Providence House Think Tank: The 24 Hours of Earth Day

We know that every 7 minutes that we don't post, we lose 284 followers. Our blogposts are read less often than people watch Barney reruns from the 90's. So, we have put fingers to keyboard to distill for you the essence of the vast amount of raw thinking that goes on in Providence House Think Tank.
First, we shall begin with a joke:

Knock knock.
Who's There?
No one.
No one who?
No one reads your blog!

And now, for breaking news.

As you know, we are all great lovers of the earth here at Providence House. While some of you restrict Earth Day to April 22, we celebrate it year round by returning a wealth of slimy, decomposing vegetables, coffee grounds, and all manner of foods so furry as to be unrecognizable to the earth in a daily ritual. This is the Circle of Life. And it had been going on uninterruptedly for some time until Earth Day observed, when it was rudely disturbed. On this day, which happened to be the day when Slithy Tove was home alone, S.T. looked out of the window and saw a gang of children running around in the side yard. At first, feelings of indignation against trespassing urchins reigned. They were picking up the trash that, thanks to the strong Lindsay winds, collects in that area. Suddenly, with cries of disgust, they stood aghast beneath the kitchen window. S.T. drew closer to see what had caused this consternation, and saw that they were gathered around the compost heap. Apparently, they had never seen real recycling. In their confusion, they attempted to remove the offending matter, which they identified as "trash," so that it could be taken away to a landfill. While they were in the midst of stealing our precious compost (one man's trash is another man's treasure) a teacher pointed out their mistake. Meanwhile, Slithy Tove attempted to keep out of sight while laughing. It would seem that we are too earthy for Earth Day.

And now for a confession (collective sigh of remorse):

Once upon a time, Slithy Tove, Jub Jub, and Mome Rath, (and occasionally Beamish Boy) sat themselves on the couch for an idle hour of vegetating. Through no fault of their own, they were sucked into a time vortex and emerged 24 hours later with 20% fewer brain cells and a haunting fear of counting down digital clocks. Like millions of other Americans, they had suffered through Season 1 of the show "24". It was the longest day of their lives.

The premise in a nut shell:

My name is Jack Bauer (cue action music), terrorists are plotting to assassinate a presidential candidate. My wife and daughter have been kidnapped, and people I work with may be involved in both. In the next twenty four hours my voice will get extremely annoying because it's dry, my wife and daughter will act like complete ditzes, the writers will debate how to wrap up loose ends, and the day will come to a completely dissatisfying conclusion.

And yet, as frustrating as the show was (Jub Jub and Slithy Tove became Delphic Oracles of each character development), the ticking clock ending each episode seemed to draw them on inexorably to the next. As the show heaved its last melodramatic sigh, JJ, MR, and ST were left in complete exasperation...