I ran into this on Facebook, or Twitter, or some site or another. It’s been making the rounds, I guess.

“It’s pretty amazing that our society has reached a point where the effort necessary to extract oil from the ground, ship it to a refinery, turn it into plastic, shape it appropriately, truck it to a store, buy it, and bring it home is considered to be less effort than what it takes to just wash the spoon when you’re done with it.”

Of course, with a healthy dose of skepticism, the first thing I did was to research how much was involved in getting a plastic spoon to my dining room table, compared to what was involved in doing the dishes. A plastic spoon costs about 2¢. Washing a steel spoon, even if I paid someone to do it, is still cheaper.

(I’m sure that’s one reason why most people use plastic spoons only on rare occasions. The other reason is that plastic spoons are chintzy, and break in two pieces, and feel funny in your mouth, and generally just kinda suck.)

But 2¢ is still pretty damn amazing. Think about that for a moment, how many steps and how much transportation goes into producing plastic spoon and getting it to your table. And all of that for less than the price of two serious thoughts. Sheesh! It pays for half of itself just by me thinking about it!

Think about the implications!

The kind of stories we read matters, because reading can affect who we are.

Although scientific research in this area is still young, I believe reading constructive, life-expanding fiction is an important component in a healthy lifestyle. That why when I write a story, I try to integrate 5 characteristics of life-expanding stories, which I believe promote 5 healthy reactions when you read them:

My soul is weary with sorrow;
strengthen me according to your word. (Psalm 119:28)

Flashlight in hand, I progress slowly down each step, toward the dungeon in which I keep my soul. Repeating drops of condensation drip, drip, drip and echo off the cold, dead walls. The scent of urine and defecation permeates the air, and intermingles with a poison must.

I loathe this place, which reeks of hell and depression.

I approach the cage. My keys rattle against the thick, steel slats, as I wrestle with the heavy padlock.

I’m preempting my usual “Friday Fun” column, because this past week was a crappy week, crappy enough to justify a little mourning.

Tuesday afternoon, as you know, a catastrophic earthquake hit Haiti, killing tens of thousands—maybe even 100,000. That number represents one out of every 95-or-so people in that small country.

Shortly thereafter, we received news of the passing of my mother-in-law.

Shorty after that, a friend received news of the passing of his grandfather.

(This series of events also explains why I haven’t been blogging this week.)

So instead of my usual humorous, lighthearted Friday sketch, today I’d like to talk about some of the thoughts that have occurred to me this week.

Stories teach, not just raw data, but wisdom. Ever since man gained the ability of thought 35 millennia ago, he has told stories. And modern research continues to reveal the constructive power of storytelling.

However, not all stories edify. Like psychotherapy, stories can comfort us or distress us. They can make us better people and better thinkers, or they can cause us to close off our minds and our thoughts. Stories can either educate or indoctrinate.

The stories I write are designed to do more than just entertain. They’re designed to help us grow, to expand our minds, to enhance the way we look at and lead our lives, and thereby to make our lives better. To accomplish this, I use a five-factor process for all my stories, based on the latest psychological insights.