This thread reminds me of a story told to me by an explosives technician. He was somewhere up in the northern part of South Africa in pristine bushveld, clearing an area for a new mine. The proposed mine was very close to a main road, and with the size of some of the trees they had to close the road temporarily in order to blast them down.
So, there he is, manning the roadblock, with great big clumps of old fever trees and mopanies and marulas and acacias and red bushwillows being shot to hell in the background, when this big Mercedes draws to a halt. The window purrs down, and this old lady starts giving him grief over the despicable destruction of all that’s green and fluffy, and when she eventually takes a breath and asks him why he is in fact doing this, he says that it is for a new mine. She then proceeds to continue her tirade, and accuses him of every capitalist crime in this corner of the universe.
Eventually she takes another breath, and asks what type of mine.
Without saying a word, he points to her left hand.