Word: trashings
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...rule, don't respond, but that long-lost friend you caught up with at a recent wedding probably will. You can create a separate mailbox to receive e-mail notices from online stores; if spammers get hold of that mailbox (and they eventually will), you can simply trash it and make a new one. This lets you register for e-commerce sites without broadcasting your personal address. If only you could do that with your real-world mailbox...
...decades, India has been the final destination for much of the world's trash: rusty cargo ships, plastic scraps, rags and used engine oil. Even thousands of tons of rubble from the World Trade Center were shipped to India for disposal. Taking refuse for a fee is a basic trade, but it provides satisfactory profits for recyclers...
...ALCHEMY GOES, THIS ISN'T THE most glamorous of experiments. No one is turning straw into gold here or even water into wine. But David Emery is on a mission to convert the poultry industry's trash--feathers, basically--into heavy-duty cash. Every so often a few tons of wet, filthy feathers are delivered to the abandoned factory Emery bought in Wheaton, Mo. (pop. 712). Emery, an industry veteran who specialized in removing meat from bone, sends the glop through a maze of machinery he cobbled together to clean, dry and position the feathers for slicing. Finally, a giant...
...with it. Then there was the futon, and the mini-fridge. And of course the brand-new color-coordinated bedding ensemble--pink sheets, pink pillows, pink comforter--which matched the pink shag rug and halogen lamp with the pink shade. The storage crates were solid pink; the trash can was decorated with hearts colored--you guessed it--pink. And who could forget the tiki lights every frosh needs? Not Monson. She remembered to pack those too. All told, the 18-year-old figures she spent about $3,000--half of it money she earned working summers and half...
...wake of the ambush, the Marines are making their move. Peeling off the main road, the vehicles roar through dirt and trash toward Market Street, kicking up a thick liquid that sprays troops in the trucks. "Please tell me that wasn't sewage," says one, though the smell leaves no doubt. Gunnery Sergeant Michael Miller's Humvee turns south and stops near the casualties - one hit in the arm, the other in the leg - who are loaded into an ambulance as squad mates aim rifles down the alley from which they took fire...