"He's brilliant!" someone whispered in my ear when I looked at him.
"Why are you brilliant?" I asked him, chin up, shoulders squared.
"Because I had the courage to oppose recycling," he said with casual cosmopolitan arrogance.
"What's wrong with recycling?" I asked. My suddenly-obviously-stupid question was met with a dozen scoffing chuckles.
Someone condescendingly gave me his brilliant book, and he was done with me. I went home in shame and read the book.
It wasn't an explanation, exactly. It was a very-near-future pseudo-science fiction dystopia, in which recycling was implemented in the most incompetent way possible, by the most corrupt people possible. A few brave protagonists were wise enough to have the same point of few as the author, and they lectured on the evils of recycling. Because they had the same point of view as the author, they were intelligent and attractive. Unpleasant and dense-minded recycling advocates argued with them by parroting unconvincing mottos and setting up perfect rhetorical replies. When the heroes convinced someone of their anti-recycling megawisdom, that someone became intelligent and attractive, too.
In the end, the story played out to prove the author's predictions, leading to a perfect awesome utopia.
It was so convincing!
I was going to go recycle, but instead I think I'll get my Jennifer Government doll and my John Galt doll and make them fight.
Sorry, I mean action figure.