Saturday, August 1, 2020

Hippie Hygiene Revolution

COVID-19 and the absurd Bizarro© nightmare shopping for toilet paper became during the first couple months, has finally inspired me to give up TP altogether. This was no decision born out of whimsy, however; I've been entertaining the notion for a few years — I probably would have gotten around to it sometime within a year or two, definitely if I'd have moved out of housing into a van or RV. You see, for years I've grown increasingly interested both in eco-stewardship and the Spartan minimalism that life as a modern mechanized Mongol would necessitate, so it was inevitable that I'd make significant changes in my consumption patterns.

First off, I feel compelled to rebut squeamish people who would whine "Ewwwww!" Fred Flintstone didn't squeeze the Charmin™ back in Bedrock — TP is an historically recent phenomenon, and even today most of the world doesn't use it. Frankly, I think widespread adoption of toilet paper use is an early example of how opportunistic capitalism can artificially manufacture both a consumer need and a culture centered around it. Sounds crazy? If you’re reading this whilst drinking coffee, you’ll be interested to know that the coffee market was also crazy talk back in the seventeenth century, and it didn't gain acceptance until people started attaching bogus medicinal claims to its ingestion.

So, what do I use instead? Not a bidet, though I'm not repulsed by them like many Americans seem to be. I use a terry cloth rag stored in an open jar filled with water and vinegar, which I refresh every morning. Yes, I spend a lot more time looking at and handling my doodie, but I'm not deforesting my beautiful Pacific Northwest — though I'm still wasting water every time I flush, something I may never work around. Additionally, the handling of the rag forces me to wash my hands every time I use the bathroom (except to pee), which is a sort of hygienic lifehack that avoids the modern solution of allowing myself to become further infantilized by reliance on tech that I usually end up ignoring or silencing anyway.

Alas, water is where my conservation performance is weakest. I'm great at minimizing use of electricity, by doing things like eschewing air conditioning, only heating my bedroom during winter, and avoiding using both my computer monitor and my TV at the same time. I recycle rabidly diligently, especially now that it's once again my sole source of income; I refurbish older computers and rebuild older bicycles; I furnish my apartment with stuff I find or cobble together, and I’m not so posh as to insist on California king-sized mattresses and Czech crystal chandeliers. I don't drive, and if I did I'd be riding a motorcycle or living in a van I don't drive much. I'm not bragging, though, because much of why I have a small carbon footprint is because I'm simply too poor to be a consumer who has bleeding-edge smartphones and smart TVs, lives in a smart home, and drives one of those damn SUVs.

One way I've managed to cut down some of my wasteful water use is by switching to a regimen where I take a shallow oatmeal bath twice a week and sponge-bathe with vinegar and water on the other days. I realize aerated shower heads result in pretty efficient water use, but the apartment I live in has low water pressure and I'm not about to bathe AND shower throughout the week — sponge bathing is simply how I make up for the exorbitant use of water all baths ultimately are. No need to thank me, Mother Earth; the best anyone could ever do will never be enough, not compared to the titanic waste production capabaility of megacorporations.