Pro life?

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Christmas balls

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Life and Death

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My life philosophy

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Are you feeling lucky?

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What is the world coming to?

I happened to catch the following promo for a show on a specialty channel called Slice. I guess it's the channel formerly known as The Life Network (slice of life?) Anyway, the show is called Shear Genius and is about hair stylists competing for who knows what--perhaps a shot at fame an fortune like most of the other "reality" shows.

I'm no prude--I've been around the block more times than most people, but something in the commercial took me by surprise--so much so, that I wasn't sure I heard it right. I jumped up and went to YouTube to see if I could find it.

As it turns out, my hearing seems to be fine, but I take little pleasure in learning this. I find the spot in the ad disgusting and in my opinion, not appropriate for general consumption. Civility is dead, it would seem. I would have liked to have attended the funeral--I was a big fan of it for a very long time. Listen to the commercial and tell me what you think about the bit at about 24 seconds in.




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Life in the fast lane

I glanced over at the magazine rack at the supermarket, yesterday, and on the cover of the latest issue of Cosmo, is the following:

Sex that brings you closer:
These moves will light a bonfire in his pants...and in his heart.

And:

What guys want after sex.

My reaction to the first storyline is that I'm getting a sense of why young people seem more confused than at any time in history about the difference between love and sex. I am by no stretch of the imagination a prude--never have been, but in my humble opinion, sex, no matter how great, can never have the lasting and cementing effect that love can on two souls. In fact, I would go so far as to say that spectacular sex early in a relationship seems to have the opposite effect. I'm not sure why--I've never thought to analyze it, but my personal and friends' experiences seem to bear this out.

You've probably heard someone say "All we have in common is great sex." It's doubtful you've ever heard anyone complain "All we have in common is a tremendous love for one another."

This is not to say that you can't have both, but great sex more often follows falling in love than the other way around. Just to clarify, if someone is after no-strings great sex, that's their business. What I'm saying is that I believe magazines like Cosmo are leading naive people into believing that the quickest way to a man's heart is through his pants. I think following such advice will only lead to eventual heartache and pain...even if there are a few mind-blowing orgasms along the way.

As far as the second storyline goes, I thought it was pretty clear to just about everyone over 16 what guys want after sex: to get away from the girl as quickly and as far as possible. Of course, I didn't open the magazine to read the article, but if it contradicts this in any way, it's B.S. There is one caveat to this rule, however. Girls, if you offer to make him a sandwich, he might stay a while. Especially if you tell him he can eat it off your ass.

They had one thing in common, they were good in bed
She'd say, 'Faster, faster--the lights are turnin' red."
Life in the fast lane. Surely make you lose your mind.

Caught in a web

I spotted what appeared to be a dead housefly on the floor beside my
dresser. As I bent down to have a look, I saw that it was caught in a
web with lines so thin, they were virtually invisible. Nearby, a very
tiny spider sat patiently. The fly struggled to free itself, but it was
in vain. After a few moments, the spider moved in. The fly was about
100 times the size of the spider. Nonetheless, he grappled with the
fly for a while and suddenly the fly was still.

Surprisingly, that minuscule arachnid managed to drag the fly away
behind the dresser. I stood up and tried to think what I should do. My
first inclination would be to move the dresser, and sweep up the web,
fly and spider, not necessarily in that order, and dump the mess in
the garbage can. That was about a week ago. In the meantime, I looked
in on my house guests several times by moving the dresser slightly,
and though it is too dark to see spider or web, the fly remains.

I feel powerless to make a difference even to a dead fly, a
microscopic spider and the web and dust that is collecting back there.
I don't want to kill the spider or remove his source of food, even
though I cannot tell if he is even still there. The crazy thing is
that this inconvenience to me, a clean freak, weighs on me. For another
reason. It seems this spider has more influence in the universe than
I do. After all, he took down a monster 100 times his size and I can't
seem to take down a speck which is him that is one billionth the size
of me.

A thought suddenly strikes me: How much "humanitarian" currency am I earning for this?
How much did I earn when I made a sizable donation to the Southeast
Asia Tsunami relief fund when it was I who was in need of funds? How
much did I earn when I gave to The hospital For Sick Children in
Toronto when it was I who was in need of care? How much did I earn
when I walked 30 miles for The United Way charity while I now walk alone? Like my
existence in this world, the answers don't make a lick of difference.
The truth is, whatever good I have done, and admittedly, it wasn't
enough, I would do it and more, again, regardless of the outcomes. I
just reserve the right to bitch about it. For you see, it is I who is caught in a web.

Memories of Sam

We had always thought our cat Sam to be stupid. I'm not sure how he rated compared to other felines since we never had another cat and have never known any others intimately. He just seemed pretty dumb. However, he did have flashes of brilliance. Many years ago, we found that if we hung a rubber band over a (toggle type) light switch, he would jump up and pull it down, and in the process, the light turned off. It was impressive to our guests when we demonstrated this trick as I shouted "Turn off the light, Sam", especially if they didn't notice the rubber band I had placed there ahead of time.

Another thing he did, was close the cupboard door by pushing it with his head after I had poured his food and then put the food bag back in the cupboard. He would only do this if I poured the food into his dish on the counter. If I tried the operation on the floor, a tank couldn't keep him from getting at the food in the dish. He just started doing it all by himself. Occasionally, he didn't do it but if I moved the cupboard door, he'd get the idea and push it closed with his head.

Not long before I had to put him down for health reasons (his not mine), I taught him something else. He used to try and get at his food dish so fast as I was placing it on the floor that sometimes he caused me to spill water onto the floor. To avoid this, I would push down on his back, forcing him to lay down about 18 inches from his "dining area" and I shouted "Stay!". He would usually stay there until I placed the dish down and gave him the order and motioned to "Go!". It sounds sick and cruel, but sometimes, just for fun, I made him stay there for 20 seconds or longer, repeating "Stay!" whenever he started to make a move for the dish. :)

In the end, I got much too used to him. He was such a long-time and close friend that it was like he was human. Once, while on the computer (me, not him), there came a noise from another room. He was laying behind me on the bed where he usually was when I was at the keyboard. I turned to look at him and without thinking, I said "Go and see what that noise is".

More evidence of my lunacy: I put water on the burner and came back to my PC while it was heating up. I suddenly realized that I had left it too long and as I made a dash for the kitchen, I noticed him laying in the hall. As I stepped over him, I angrily said "Why didn't you remind me I had water on the burner?".

RIP, Sam.

On extreme capitalism

I just came across something I posted to a message board a couple of years ago and I like it so much I'm posting it here:

America was founded by people tired of being "oppressed" by others. A nation founded on the principle of freedom. However, with freedom comes competition. And with competition comes great winners and great losers. Those who find ways to win at all costs often destroy weaker competitors, even if only by circumstance. And the strong who acquire power and status are able to circumvent the few rules/laws meant to protect the weak by hiring fast-talking, Harvard-educated, charismatic executives and lawyers. The weak, in desperation, turn to crime or end up on the streets or both. In a dog eat dog world, this polarization is inevitable.

The ultimate example of freedom is nature. And we can learn a lot from observing it. Animals are free to do whatever they please, so long as they are bigger, stronger, have sharper teeth--whatever gives them an advantage over other animals. And what do we see in nature? We see packs of vicious animals preying on the weak, old, young and infirm. And then, even in the winning group, the stronger ones eat first and the most. Pecking order dictates that those most in need, often end up dying.

I contend that while freedom to succeed is a good strategy to promote discovery and invention and therefore a better life for all overall, it does not hold that more freedom means even more success. I believe there is a point that when crossed, it puts people closer to the realm of animal behaviour than we should want. That point is when profit is put ahead of human life.

When pollution is allowed on a scale that causes human illness or death, when water or food supplies are insufficiently tested that threatens human health, when competition is so fierce that the stress causes great numbers to either take meds for life, give up or be unable to find adequate employment, when crime is seen as a viable alternative to the rat race, when landlords have the right to maintain unlivable conditions, when corporations produce defective products that can harm or kill people and do so because lawsuits may be cheaper to settle than the cost of a recall, that point has been crossed. We are behaving like animals.

At the track

I went to my local thoroughbred racing track this past Saturday. I had my usual luck when betting a horse trained by one of the better trainers there. For one reason or another, I have lost every bet save for one that I have ever made on his horses. I always seem to bet the right horse at the wrong time. Horses with proven records never seem to win when I bet on them.

Anyway, on this occasion, a new way was found for the horse I bet on to lose. The horse started out fine around the middle of the pack. By about one third of the length of the race, he had worked himself up to first. Suddenly he pulled up very quickly and went out of camera range, all the horses advancing well past him--not a good sign. A thought popped into my mind of how appropriate the horse's name was given these circumstances--Payday Peril.

At that point I got up from my chair where I had been watching the race on a big-screen monitor and went outside to see what the matter was. Somehow, the horse had managed to make his way almost a half mile further along the track and was right in front of me where I exited the grandstand. I thought maybe there was hope for the horse since he had gone that far after sustaining whatever ailed him.

He was surrounded by 5-6 people, including his trainer which I recognized. While a couple of men consoled the horse, a couple more were checking out his front legs. My view was slightly obstructed, so I couldn't see exactly what was going on. Just then, the horse reared up and then immediately laid down and suddenly there was no movement. I tried as best I could to look for any signs of breathing. I could not detect any. The horse was very eerily still and I concluded they had euthanized him.

It broke my heart. It made me realize how insignificant my wager on this horse was. This horse who had worked his heart out in perhaps ten races or more, having won three of his last six, including his last two, had earned a small fortune for his connections and had the promise of even more success. I can only hope that he had received the affection and fine treatment he deserved.

They placed a large screen between the horse and onlookers (too late, I thought) and prepared to load the poor creature into the horse ambulance. I retreated back to my seat and remarked to those sitting near me "I think they euthanized that horse". My comment was greeted with stone silence of indifference.

Anyone who has ever entered a horse racing establishment would have immediately noticed how unsavoury many of the patrons are. They are loud, boisterous, rowdy, unkempt, of poor breeding and generally lack proper hygiene. But that day, I found yet another adjective to add to the list: heartless.

Late that night, I googled the horse's name and to my surprise and dismay, I couldn't find a single item relating to the horse's death (or less likely, his condition). I even checked the race track's own website to no avail. The fine career and promise of this horse, and his painful and sad passing had gone by without so much as a footnote.

As I was writing this today, Monday, I checked again for an item on the horse and am glad to see that a few sentences were written in a blog by Jennifer Morrison to mark the gelding's life and death. Jennifer Morrison is the track odds-maker. Kudos to her. The horse racing sport needs more like her.

Here is Jen's blog.