In short, just about everything we touch from the moment we get out of bed is plastic, including, in some cases, the bed as well.
Worse, microplastics and synthetic microfibers (polyester) exist in our carpets and roughly 60 percent of our clothing. Where microfibers spew out of our dryer vents by the billions, become air- and water-borne, and find their way into fish and other seafood, into honey, beer, meat, and now, it appears, by various ways into human bloodstreams, actually making us part plastic. Worse, this plastic will be around long after I’m gone, long after I am reincarnated as a ball-point pen.
As a child, my favorite superhero was Plastic Man, one of the first to incorporate humor into mainstream action storytelling. This character was able to shape-shift into just about any object to infiltrate and then capture evil-doers. He could become an ashtray, a door stop, a lamp shade, a hat-rack, even a sex toy, I think. And no criminals ever noticed, because, in fact, everything is plastic.
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