Rechargeable Batteries and My New Desk Chair

Yesterday I went to Staples to get a new desk chair [note the the three comfort customization levers; sure, I wish there were a couple more, but the price was right...] and I picked up some batteries and pens as well, and I fear that my actions will offend those among you who fear the impending destruction of the planet as we know it by the reckless pollution, consumption of resources, and the general tomfoolery of the post-industrialized world.

Desk Chair:
The chair I bought was made in China, so chances are the materials were harvested and shipped all around the world using non-sustainable, petro-chemical dependent systems and so on before they ever got to me. As I assembled it (I put it together myself, thank you very much), my apartment filled with the stench of nasty, fake, plastic-tasting chemicals. They wreaked so strongly in fact, I actually opened all of the windows out of fear that I might suffocate to death or inhale carcinogens that could one day metastasize and kill me, and of course when assembling such products, one is forced to confront the ever present threat of friction induced chemical fire and/or explosion.

I went with every intention of buying rechargeable batteries. I already have a charger, and I use rechargeables for almost all of my small electronics (wireless computing and gaming peripherals). When I looked for batteries though, I found that four rechargeables cost $12, whereas twenty, yes TWENTY, regular batteries cost $10 (in both cases Duracell). Also, two of the batteries in the twenty-pack are "ULTRA ADVANCED". I don't know what that means yet, but I do know that the four rechargeables said nothing about being either ULTRA or ADVANCED. The only words they had in all-caps were "DURACELL" and "RECHARGEABLE". Eighteen regular batteries plus two ULTRA ADVANCED batteries for $10 equals SOLD.

EARTH:     0
ME:     1

I'm writing to tell you what I've done, and to say that I'm not sorry. The fumes from my toxic chair will fade as they dissolve in our mutual atmosphere, and when my twenty, yes TWENTY, regular batteries run out of juice, I'll drive a few miles outside of the city and throw them into a river and buy some more. If you sense bitterness, it's because somewhere along the way I got tricked into buying a battery charger, and batteries that cost six times more than regular ones. Lame.