No Global Warming?

George Bush may question the authenticity of Global Warning but world events might give him pause to think about the definite possibility that it exists. I, for one need no convincing. A symbol of the Canadian Arctic that loaned its outline to North-West Territories license plates, the polar bear, may become extinct for lack of ice floes to enable it to hunt seals. The ice bridges that enabled trucking to northern communities in winter can no longer be trusted. Inuit in the High Arctic can no longer trust sea ice for transportation and hunting. Diseases, funguses, and moulds that were formerly unknown in Canada are managing to survive in our soil and crops over-winter and now threaten our health. For the second year in a row there will be no ice wine harvest in Canada as temperatures are not cold enough to support its harvest. And for the same reason I will not be able to store the contents of my deep freeze on my balcony while I defrost it this weekend.

In other news we learn of the hanging of a Koran-clutching Saddan Hussein. The dispatch with which this sentence was carried out by Islamic Justice seems remarkable considering that the appeal process in America would have delayed his execution by five to seven years. Methinks the Yankee Infidel may well live to rue the creation of such a martyr to the cause.

Twas the Week Before Christmas

Here it is Christmas Eve, ready or not. At least I got away without having to work this weekend. Last Sunday morning I went in to work for four hours and assisted Linda, a fellow employee, in sorting nearly 2000 Christmas Parcels. The good news is that I didn't have to deliver them. Indulged myself afterward with a Buffet Brunch at the Golden Griddle. When I got home learned that a friend had died and sort of felt like I'd had the stuffing knocked out of me. Any plans I'd had to get chores done fell by the wayside and the Euro-Christmas Broadcast--Joy to the World--lost all its lustre.

Even though we'd handled 25 monos of parcels Sunday Morning there were 30 more waiting to be sorted Monday Morning. I didn't have to work on those thank goodness. The ordinary pre-sorted mail and householders have slowed to a trickle so I spent my day doing odd jobs such as cleaning up the stock room. Enjoyed my afternoon nap and a quiet evening in front of the TV.

Tuesday was a light day in my department, but everything else went haywire. First I had to dig out the new microwave that had arrived months earlier and install it against the arrival of the Regional Director who we were warned would expect to see it in place. Getting the older heavy model out of the way was the bigger task--especially cleaning under it to which the janitor obviously doesn't attend. Then followed a generalized clean-up to ensure he wouldn't see anything he shouldn't see. While we were in the middle of that operation 4 new desks arrived for the office which required cleaning out the old ones and moving all their contents. In the middle of that chaos the Director and Area Manager arrived. Just as the furniture movers were cleaning up the technicians arrived with a new scissor lift they intended to install after removing the old one. They had a 2 hour window to complete the job before the next truck arrived. Must say I was thankful to get out of there and go home. Must admit it took some time after all that excitement to unwind, particularly since my Christmas Cheer is still at the LCBO.

Another quiet day in the mail staging department but I managed to find plenty of other chores to keep me busy, including streeting mail. There was a great deal of stir over the deficiencies of the new dock system. Luckily I don't have a great deal to do with it but I did agree that there were some bugs and that Christmas Time was a curious period to be making such major changes. Before I got to go home drove over to the Main Office and spent an hour and a half teaching one of my superiors how to do the Suburban Service Route Update Process. When I finally got there I felt I'd earned my afternoon nap.

Thursday. My actual assigned job was light. Spent some time topping up the rechargeable batteries on my equipment. They are emphatically not service free batteries--one takes a litre of water a week. Spent an hour and a half doing a superior's travel expenses--an entire year's worth! On the way home yesterday finally picked up the photo of my fellow workers I'd printed and had sent out for framing. Showed it around the office and when I finally got out of there took it to Milton to present it to Wendy Hammond. Met people who had formerly worked in Oakville over the years and nosed around the office--that doesn't take long. Sat in the shoe-box sized supervisor's office and presented Wendy with her gift. She appears to be content working there. From Milton I drove down Trafalgar Rd, via Derry all the way to Lakeshore and went over to the Korpriva-Turner Funeral Home for the visitation for Donald Bedard's Mother Betty. There being ten children in the family, 1000's of former students and fellow teachers and friends from church the place was rather busy. There are family members I barely recognized or have only met in passing but the feeling was warm and friendly. I was glad I went but too exhausted mentally and emotionally to sleep when I got home.

Friday. Began the day by making coffee. Then set to work at organizing Community Mailbox Keys for about a dozen sites. Helped set up the Christmas Goodies compliments of Canada Post. Spent only a brief time actually handling mail. Before I got out of there spent some time prompting another expense claim. Drove over to St. Dominic's in driving rain which started shortly after I arrived at work at 4:00 AM. Found the parking lot filled to over-flowing and followed the cars to alternate parking. Made it to the entrance just as the hearse arrived. The service was highly personal and the lengthy sermon was delivered as the priest walked among the congregation asking for audience participation. The coffin was sprinkled and incensed and the crowd dispersed. After the spread at work I had no room for the repast laid out in the parish room but I did pay my respects to the mourners before going home. Dropped back at the office in time to clean up after the guys who'd arrived to retrofit the new dock. It does work better now but will take some adjusting. Last Friday night was the Office Christmas Party which took place in Burlington at Skyway Plaza. When I made it home this Friday I collapsed in front of the TV and read my books. After the repast at work I didn't need to do any cooking.

Woke early and checked my E-mail, then went back to bed. When I did get up lacked any ambition. Spent the day catching up on and answering my E-mail, browsing the Web, listening to music and looking at online Boxing Day sales. Mid-afternoon, the sky being almost as black as night I went up and settled in to watch DVD's. Went to bed early and was awake again by midnight.

Spent a couple hours cleaning up my E-mail and reading electronic magazines. Then went back to bed. Woke in time to make it to Longos by 7:00 AM. Apparently others had the same idea. Somehow I managed to get most of my needs though I did forget salad greens. I've finally managed to wash up the dishes the dishwasher can't handle and will run the machine. Then, if I'm to have clean clothes to wear tomorrow I should run my washing machine. For breakfast I baked the Cheese and Spinach Pasta Rolls I picked up at Longos--their house brand. Good, but definitely not diet food. In cleaning up I discovered one bit of good news. I've done something right in the last nine months. My ovens needed only a brief cleaning with a wet dish cloth; I'll not need to run the cleaning cycle. And for those who know me this isn't for want of use.

The sun is putting in a watery visit today though we are promised a rainy Christmas. At least I won't have to skate over to my Danish Friend's Brunch. I should walk over to the other end of the building and check to see if anyone sent the Grinch a card by what others call snail mail. Actually I've heard many stories of next day delivery of late though it's impossible to please everyone, in particular the gal who claimed yesterday that Workman's Comp had told her that her cheque was in the mail--of course it is--in their mail room. I actually went and looked but my efforts would have been equally fruitful had I just gone for a coffee before telling her there was no mail in the office. Whatever, it's great to have four days to recover. I really should make the effort to attend Christmas Eve services tonight, though before I attempt to sit in a closely packed, overly warm, candlelit room I should have a lengthy afternoon nap.

To those who have made the effort to get this far:

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Things Today's Teens Couldn't Handle!

Dirt roads
Thirty-Party Lines- 3 ring 11 and operator-dialed calls. Rotary dial phones.
Mechanical Adding Machines and mental arithmetic.
Typewriters
Making Fire
Oil Lamps
Winding the Alarm Clock
Licking Stamps
Winding up the Victrola
No TV
Twenty chocolate bars for a dollar
Standard Transmissions
Hand pumps
Outhouses
Shovelling Snow without a snow-blower
Waiting a week for a letter to be answered
No street lights
No airplanes
Silence!
Slates and Graphite Pencils
Fountain Pens and Ink wells and quills
Carbon Paper
Cutting Stencils to make copy
Single-speed bikes

The Rule of Law

The past week has raised two issues with regard to law enforcement in Canada.

In the first one we learned this week that Canada's Chief Constable admitted to perjuring himself under oath before a Parliamentary Committee and subsequently was forced to resign. As a Canadian I'm embarrassed. What kind of image are we presenting to the world?

As the week ended we learned that the Robert Picton trial has reached the jury selection phase for a projected year-long trial. The spectre of anyone being forced to put their life on hold for more than a year to listen daily to the kind of gruesome details this trial is likely to reveal to my way of thinking is more than anyone's civic duty should obligate them to do. Should there be some limits placed on the right of trial by jury in such cases. Long before this trial is completed more than a few jurors are going to wish that this accused had died in a hail of bullets resisting arrest. The rest of us can be thankful that we are safe from the possibility of being convicted to such servitude as this man's peers.

A Word to the Wise

For anyone who does a lot of domestic mailing through Canada Post now is the time to stock up on stamps. Canada Post has finally recognized that it is cheaper to accept 51¢ stamps next year after the rate increases to 52¢ than to print 1¢ stamps or go to the expense of returning short-paid letters. Therefore 51¢ stamps will be accepted after the increase takes effect next January and the latest issue lacks a denomination but rather bears a "P" indicating that these stamps will be accepted as basic first class postage in perpetuity. About time!

On Saints and Martyrs

Yes, I'm still here!

I've been reading E. J. Pratt's poetic account of the missionaries who manned St. Marie among the Hurons. Yes, I've been to Martyr's Shrine near Midland, Ontario and visited the rebuilt mission there but can't say I was moved to revere the relics. No one could contest the sense of mission these men had but in light of historic perspective the efficacy of their efforts has a new cast.

The politicians of the day in Paris and New France supported this mission primarily as a means of pacifying the natives. But whether or not these First Nations people needed Christ is open to question. Certainly from a cultural and environmental perspective they had no context with which to approach the Gospel that was being presented to them. What all first contact peoples did receive, even in advance of their coming, were the endemic European diseases—small pox, whooping cough, measles, chicken pox, polio, mumps, etc. These scourges were responsible for decimating entire populations. Perhaps the Mohawks were not entirely incorrect in declaring that these priests brought evil with them. What followed on the heels of the Missionaries were displacement by settlers, loss of livelihood, residential schools, and all the abuses that have so occupied the news in the last decade. Most First Nations are still lost in endless land claim negotiations. Their reserves are beset by sub-standard housing and sanitation, alcoholism, diabetes, obesity and chronic unemployment.

While no human should have to endure the cruelties visited upon these priests; I would question the zealotry that repeatedly sent these men back to almost certain death. Whether these men were Saints or miss-guided fanatics depends on your point of view. From today's First Nations People's viewpoint they did not need to be discovered, did not benefit from the suppression of their native heritage and language, and would prefer a viable living to government hand-outs.

Excercising My Civic Duty

I’m just back from exercising my civic right to vote.  This being a municipal election at least this time round the election placards out-numbered the for sale signs—especially with five people running for mayor.  Not living in Ward 2 I didn’t have the opportunity to place two pigs at the trough—a Stoate and a Hogg.  I can only hope that the incoming mayor is given a council less fractious than the previous one. 

 

Did some shopping after the voting machine read my ballot and discovered the perfect Christmas gift at the Bulk Barn—Chocolate lumps of Coal!  Aside from the election the day has been marked with the sound of sirens roaring up and down Trafalgar Rd.  The fact that the day is overcast and moisture laden is probably not helping.  With all this rain we should expect to see a bumper crop of cones on the conifers, shrubs laden with blossom, and green lawns next spring.  Unless the weather changes I may not need to get my humidifier going at all this year. 

 

This being a contractual holiday for uncivil servants I believe I’ll go up and fall asleep in front of the TV.   

More Microsoft Woes

You may remember that legal documents are written in such bloated circuitous terms because clerks were paid for the documents they wrote by the word, hence they used as many words as possible when they wrote their judgments; the resulting parchments were rolled and tied with red ribbons hence their works became red tape.  It would seem that Bill Gates pays his code writers by the same principle—hence using 1 MB of code to accomplish a task will not do if one can find 100 MB that will do the same job. Recently I downloaded and installed Windows Media Player 11; it does a nice job, as long as you don’t wish to do anything else with your computer while it’s running.  That’s fine if it’s a movie you’re watching; but listening to a CD or Web Radio while you’re working on a Word Document such as I’m doing at present or browsing the Web and reading E-mail—especially if you use MS Outlook--is out of the question. 

 

I made the mistake of “upgrading” (?) to Internet Explorer 7—I should know better by now!  Not since I was on a dial-up Internet Connection have I experienced web pages that opened at such glacial speeds.  Not only that but until the pages open my browser and even my computer itself are often frozen.  Not since I used Windows ME has my browser crashed as often as it has lately.  Couldn’t comment as to whether this new edition is more secure but it certainly isn’t more stable.  Again this is yet another programme exhibiting needless bloat. 

 

If these two programmes are exemplars of what is to come with Windows Vista; no wonder a computer will require 1 Gigabyte of memory just to run the Operating System.  Whatever buildings this new system is able to leap with a single bound or however bullet-proof it may be I ask you, “Is it really worth it?”

 

 

Government

The Government—I heard about the Government and I went out to find it.  I said I would look closely at it when I saw it.

Then I saw a policeman dragging a drunken man to the calaboose.  It was the Government in action.

I saw a ward alderman slip into an office one morning and talk with a judge. Later in the day the judge dismissed a case against a pickpocket who was a live ward worker for the alderman.  Again I saw this was the Government, doing things.

I saw militiamen level their rifles at a crowd of workingmen who were trying to get other workingmen to stay away from a shop where there was a strike on.  Government in action.

 

Everywhere I saw the Government is a thing made of men, that Government has blood and bones, it is many mouths whispering into many ears, sending telegrams, aiming rifles, writing orders, saying “yes” and “no”.

 

Government dies as the men who form it die and are laid away in their graves and the new Government that comes after is human, made of heartbeats of blood, ambitions, lusts, and money running through it all, money paid and money taken, and money covered up and spoken of with hushed voices.

A Government is just as secret and mysterious and sensitive as any human sinner carrying a load of germs, traditions and corpuscles handed down from fathers and mothers away back.

 

--Carl Sandburg

Where have all the flowers gone?

Not much has changed in the century since the lines above were written; somehow I don’t expect Sandburg would be overly surprised.  Government has just gotten better at shredding paper and paper trails and wiping hard drives.  We have two paper shredders in the office in which I work—I ordered them. 

 

Just got back from buying $200.00-worth of groceries.  A lot for one person but I’ve only shopped once in the last two months.  Possible when one makes one’s own bread, uses frozen juice concentrate and is satisfied with powdered coffee-white; and has a deep freeze full of frozen meals.  In my travels I’ve been amused to see that there are two pigs running for office in Oakville—a stoat and a hogg.  Snickered when I noted it was deemed obligatory to note on my container of pre-washed mixed salad greens that they contained no spinach. 

 

I should apologize for neglecting my few readers.  First I went back to work the first of October; then I caught the virus my fellow workers’ kids brought home from school and their parents were kind enough to share around the office.  Life has been hand to mouth for the last month.  Where did summer go?  We had a few flurries flying in the air around noon on Thursday, the 2^nd, but it melted on contact—nothing to match the permanent cover just north of the Niagara Escarpment or the accumulation already present in places like Calgary.  We have, however, had two vicious storms with wind-driven rain gusting to 100 Km/Hr and more rain during daylight hours than I’ve seen in over a decade.  Miserable weather to be a letter carrier. 

 

I’ve just finished reading Carl Sandburg and will move on to the simplicity of E. J. Pratt.  When I read I tend to suffer from the heavy-eyelid phenomena.  I’ve been struggling to keep up with my iTunes podcasts lest the downloads eat up all the space on my hard drive.  I’ve been languidly picking away at housecleaning—at least bachelors can always feel a sense of accomplishment when they clean those forgotten corners.  I’m still ignoring live TV programming in favour of recorded DVD’s.  At the moment my computer is playing Luke Doucet’s Broken (and other rogue states). 

Just How Broken Is Windows?

At the risk of being boring I’m going to revisit an old rant.  Over an hour ago I innocently opened my E-mail and read a cyber-alert regarding a necessary Windows Update.  When I ran Windows Update I discovered that my system required 28 MB of updates.  In effect, I’ve just installed an entirely new version of Windows.  If I’m not mistaken the entire Windows 98 operating system wasn’t much bigger than that!  No wonder Bill’s Boys in Redmond are so far behind in writing Windows Vista; they’re too busy writing repairs to keep the present OS limping along.  Make two guesses as to how fast Windows XP gets retired permanently once Vista comes out? 

 

If Windows gets much more bloated my present system will be inadequate to operate it much less do anything else.  As it is I had to hack into the system to disable all the new unnecessary services the new updates enabled by default.  If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have had any memory left to open Word.  Now that I’ve done all that and gotten that rant out of the way I’ll got back to the tasks I intended to get to an hour ago. 

Moral Outrage

Beware; I’m in one of “those” moods tonight.  Just read in the trivia section of an Internet Movie Database entry a listing of the number of times the word, “fuck”, is used in a particular movie.  While I may decry censorship I see no reason why the arts should be used as a vehicle to inure the public to that which is considered crude in polite society.  I also fail to see why it is necessary to portray on screen, acts that are by their very nature considered private.  Okay, maybe I’m prudish about these things but so is society.  On the one hand we graphically portray violence, sex, and cruelty in movies and on the other we “X” Rate them, meaning that everyone who attends them must pay an adult entrance fee.  Psychiatrists treat the witnessing of the “primal scene” by children as a traumatic event in Western Society while the 80 % of the world that lives in one-room huts goes on producing babies somehow.   

 

It matters not whether a disembodied voice thundered the Ten Commandments from Mount Sinai or incised them in tablets with a laser-like hand; they were enshrined in the Bible because they made good sense.  They made such good sense that rabbinical scholars wrote 600 closely-packed pages of interpretations called the Talmud.  The spread of Sexually Transmitted Diseases tends to prove that intimate relations outside of a committed relationship are not good for one.  How many are treated for premature ejaculation because their first sexual experience was learned in the back seat of a car or in a family room attempting to evade detection?  The fellow worker who espoused the “3 W’s”—whip it in, whip it out, wipe it off—is presently without spouse. 

 

The most important improvements to overall health were not made in 12-hour open-heart surgeries but in basic sanitation, clean drinking water, and proper nutrition; in fact the death rate actually decreases when doctors go on strike.  The present generation now reaching maturity will be the first in a century that will have a shorter life-expectancy than their parents.  This is almost totally due to lack of exercise and obesity; both eminently preventable conditions.  We need to stop visiting our doctors for a pharmalogical cure to all our ills and start taking responsibility for our own health.  The same can be said for our mental, spiritual, and moral health. 

 

While I’m not going to say that everyone should attend church on Sunday it is no coincidence that suicide among people who regularly went to confession was virtually unknown.  I’m not out to convert the world to my particular brand of Christianity; but I do believe that everyone needs a sense of self-worth, their place in the world, and a feeling that their life has meaning.  It is when people can only define their sense of their own importance in terms of the people to whom they feel superior that prejudice and injustice become acceptable.  What I find objectionable about the increasing use of foul language, violence, sexual predation, and obscenities in movies, TV, video games, music, and everyday life is the fact that increased exposure tends to make the average person find them increasingly acceptable.  That’s the same slippery slope that had the Romans watching the games at the Coliseum while the Huns invaded the hinterland and eventually sacked Rome. 

 

Back to Work Blues

Suddenly I’m feeling old. I’ve had a month’s vacation to unwind—or try to; practice the fine art of doing nothing; watch movies—job accomplished; read books—if only I could stay awake when I curl up with one; clean the apartment—headway made but still a work in progress; and clean out my larder. I’ve spent a month attempting to cocoon and live without my watch, alarm clock, and the calendar.

Today I finally had to go shopping to replenish my fridge. I did manage to get it cleaned out mind you. Went to my local green grocer—Longos. The first thing that hit me when I walked in was the loud obnoxious background music they were playing—it’s supposed to be background I’d have thought and I’d never paid it any attention before; I was told it was the oldies of the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s—somehow it missed me. The other jarring notes were the price tags—everything seems to have increased in price by 50¢ to a dollar. I’m going to have to make a trip up-country to find some fresh corn. I suppose grocers feel the need to supply the public what they want but the public who feel the need to get their corn pre-shucked in a plastic wrapped tray are woefully ignorant of the science of plant biology.

Not everything has increased in price mind you. The price of gasoline has gone from the high of 109.9¢ a litre to 79.9—don’t pretend to understand that one but I’m not fighting it.

There’s got to be a sadistic side to some of my acquaintances. No less than three people have felt it necessary in the last few days to remind me that I have to go back to work tomorrow. What is this fascination with my return to servitude? When I retire they’ll have to find something else to write about. Let’s get rid of the other major conversation topic—the weather. September has been a cold, thunderstorm prone, overcast, rainy month. To mark my return to work the sun is scheduled to put in an appearance tomorrow, though rain will arrive by evening. Mind you at the hour I start it will be dark when I arrive at work.

Re-assembled my year 2000-vintage Netvista IBM computer and wiped the hard disc to see if installing Windows 98 SE would work better than the Me OS that came installed on it. Sadly during the install process the registry became corrupted—I was unable to open Windows Explorer. Something definitely rotten in the State of Denmark there, that computer was definitely a lemon destined for the scrap pile of history. My friend Ernie Caron is shaking his finger at me from Heaven—having coached me through my early days of computer literacy he’ll be reminding me that computers are definitely a great means to waste time. Given the money I’d invested in that machine I just had to make one more attempt to see if it was good for anything. Remarkably the IBM website still has the drivers available online for that computer but given its performance I have no trouble understanding why IBM is no longer in the PC Business.

Made the politically incorrect purchase of some Schneider’s Bacon when I was out shopping so now it’s time I had my bacon, eggs, toast and coffee brunch. At least I won't be toasting my bread in bacon fat as I once watched a Scotish friend do. Hope you have a good day as well.

Still Life

Discovered this still life in the course of browsing the web; actually, I kind of like it. The artist’s name was Adolph and unfortunately his teachers thought he lacked talent and discouraged him from pursuing a career in art. Thirty Million people may wish they’d been less critical—yes, he was that Adolph. Today people buy his art for reasons that have nothing to do with artistic merit.

On the Existence of God

A friend got into a discussion with me on the nature of faith and the existence of God.  Having had a week to cogitate on the matter I’ll write a few words.

 

I can think of few better places to begin than the Gospel of John:

 

John 1:1-5  In the beginning, the Word existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God.  (2)  He existed in the beginning with God.  (3)  Through him all things were made, and apart from him nothing was made that has been made.  (4)  In him was life, and that life brought light to humanity.  (5)  And the light shines on in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out.

 

“Word” is a good starting place as to talk of this or any other topic we must use words.  Word or in Greek logos is the force that creates and sustains the universe.  It can be said that God’s Word is Law but Word in this sense is beyond Law.  The Word or God wills, thinks or says a thing and it is so.  God then is The Word that expresses the force that creates and sustains the universe.  We believe or have faith in the existence of God because as part of this universe we acknowledge the existence of some over-arching force that not only lead to its creation but continues to hold it together.  The fact that science can in some way explain how these processes work in no way diminishes God; in fact the more we learn the more we come to understand just how complicated the universe is and reinforce the belief that there must be some ultimate power behind it all.  That churches and religious authorities throughout the ages have laid claim to the Word and attempted to harness and dispense it, often to their own advantage and in perversion of the true Word, and perpetrated abuses in so doing in no way detracts from the power of God. 

 

In a world that claims to be atheistic and Godless man’s quest for purpose and meaning remains stronger than ever—we just seek it outside the doors of organized religion.  The universe and the matter of which it is made exist, it is neither good nor bad; but when it is used for ill we call that act sin and the results of that act evil.  Sin and evil have the effect of separating us from the life force; some would quantify this state as a place called Hell and posit an opposing force for evil personified as Satan or the Devil.  The Christian Church has personified the force that makes those who have ‘sinned’ right with the universe in the person of God the Son, or Jesus the Christ.  We may no longer believe in casting out demons to heal people, but no one can deny the restorative power of being made right with the world—whether it be by losing those 40 extra pounds, an addiction to smoking or drugs, a long-held grudge, or enmity with the world at large. 

 

The search for meaning has led man, as a sentient being to believe in a life force that animates the flesh and molecules of which he is made.  Many have called this presence man’s soul and the means by which it communicates with the ultimate being the spirit.  Whether they would admit it or not human beings are creatures of habit and in order to become at one with their inner being or soul participate in ritualistic practices.  Whether this be meditation, chanting mantras or group exercises the objective is the same.  In the Christian Tradition fellow believers gather for corporate worship involving chants, prayers, and music; and since the sense of smell is our most primal and the last we lose in death, incense.  Prayer is an expression of our soul’s two-way communication with the divine spirit—the power behind the universe.  Whether or not it is efficacious depends on the faith of the believer. 

 

In the Christian tradition these three aspects of the ultimate power or divine being have been expressed as the Triune God—God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit or Ghost.  In spite of these three expressions of this ultimate being Christianity claims to be a monotheistic religion that believes in a single God whose dealings with mortals are expressed in different ways.  Faith is a sense of a Spiritual presence that can’t be seen or touched, if one does not believe nothing can prove that it exists.  Whether faith be superstition depends on the belief of the individual making the decision; however superstition connotes ignorance and most religious faith is undergirded by centuries of wisdom.  As with every human endeavour religion can be used for good and evil—more wars have been fought in the name of religion than any other cause.  A comic recently stated that since both sides always claim to have God on their side, God always wins; I don’t have a sense that either human side ever wins.  The fact that religion can and has been used to motivate or control people in ways that are deleterious to their own good is a reality; however religion as an expression of man’s search for meaning remains a necessity for most thinking beings. 

 

That the writer’s approach comes from a Christian, indeed Lutheran, tradition is obvious.  I would, however, in solidarity with Alan Jones, Dean of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco state that Christianity to me is an approach to living and the questions it poses; not a set of dogma that a practitioner must believe and follow.  I believe it an expression of the strength of my own faith that I can encounter those who take differing points of view without feeling forced to convert them to mine and indeed defend their right to hold them; recognizing that their system of beliefs is founded in the sum total of their own life experience and culture.  I only ask that they accord me the same respect. 

How I spent my September Vacation 2006

As I sit here contemplating the last few days of a month’s vacation time I’m wondering what happened to all the things I wanted to get done. Take iTunes Podcasts for example. Like a child in a candy shop I’d collected more than I’d time to watch or audition. Well, I’ve spent hours listening to podcasts but, with time on my hands I’ve found more that interest me so I still have a backlog of 56 hours of listening to catch up on and that stockpile keeps growing daily each time I refresh it.

The other day I reassembled my first computer that has sat dormant since September 2002 and booted it up. After three attempts it actually worked. Having been bought in the year 2000 it sports the dreaded Windows Me operating system—it hasn’t improved with age. The old IBM clunker was retired because of unreliability so I haven’t entrusted anything of importance to it; I just wanted to see if it would still work for curiosity’s sake and to engage in a stroll down memory lane. Four years in computer terms and the life of the World Wide Web is two lifetimes. Has anyone heard of the Lycos Browser—it was IBM’s proprietary browser which integrated E-mail, Browsing, Net Clubs and Downloads; one feature I did appreciate was its built-in popup blocker. Alas, we know what happened to IBM and this browser is no longer supported. There are a few games and pieces of software that XP won’t run that I can still enjoy on the old system.

I have managed to catch up on an entire year’s worth of Canadian Geographical Magazines—mainly while I waited for web pages to open or Blogs to upload; though I shudder to think of the depth of the unread back issues, at this point I suppose one could call them history. When I find them, I have copies of MacLean’s Magazine that predate 9/11—not that is history! I never seem to get as many books read as I’d like to but I did finish the Iliad at last and I’m half way through Harry Potter. I’ve watched a number of movies but I’m still behind on the TV series I’ve picked up. At least I won’t be running out of original material to watch anytime soon. I’ve started the 2005-6 Season of Smallville and just picked up One Tree Hill. Managed to work my way through the entire Wagner Ring Cycle but there are still CD’s in my collection that have never been auditioned. Five years ago had someone told me I’d listen to most of my music by means of a computer I’d never have credited it. Online Commercial-Free Radio is a marvel. Being able to stream Pipedreams on American Public Radio and other programmes that are either hard to tune in or broadcast at inconvenient times is a marvel.

I have managed to get caught up on my E-mail and for those of you who visit this Blog you know that I’ve added considerably to its archives. Summer has mellowed into fall outside and air is filled with the calls of blue jays and fog. Nights are getting quite cool and the cloud cover continues to predominate. Trees here near Lake Ontario are just thinking about turning but the cooler temperatures are finally resulting in less swamp water smell from my taps. Now it’s time I go visit my banker and see to financial matters. Guess it’s a pleasant problem to have. At work they joke about raiding the cache under my mattress.

Spending a Rainy Weekend

Time was when the well-to-do took the train, a bus, and a boat to a summer retreat and spent a couple months there.  Most working stiffs cannot afford such luxuries and the indolent lifestyle having servants to keep house made possible.  I count myself lucky to have a job that affords me the extravagance of taking the entire month of September off.  It’s pleasant to have an opportunity to unwind, catch up on my reading, peck away at household chores as the mood strikes me, do some shopping, wander Southern Ontario, watch some movies, and forget what time, indeed what day it is.  Mind you I may have overdone it in the unwinding department as I’m finding it difficult some days to come up with much to write about in my journal.      

 

This morning I was moved to reassemble my first computer that has sat collecting dust for over 4 years and see if I could get it to boot.  At this point the only hardware I’m still using from that original set-up is the speakers.  Not surprising for a system that has sat unused for 4 years it took three attempts to get it to start.  The first time the hard drive didn’t start, the second time produced a system fault, but on the third attempt it actually booted.  Windows Me remains the charming programme it’s always been with its propensity to freeze and lock up the computer.  With the benefit of experience I’ve just spent the last few hours getting rid of useless software and trail ware I’d installed at the time and at present have Windows performing maintenance on the drive.  For example I now know that having two firewalls installed at once can lead to system instability.  I don’t have network access with this computer but I do find it a trip down memory lane to see what I had installed at the time, the way programmes looked 4 years ago and the material I had stored on the drive.  Just what I plan to do with a second computer I haven’t quite decided but for the moment it’s an interesting reminiscence.  At the moment the old system appears to be remarkably stable, mind you I haven’t attempted to run any specific programmes on it yet. 

 

For one who began blogging with some reticence last May I appear to have embraced it with unbridled enthusiasm, branching out from this original blog which is now approaching 90 entries to scribblings in search of a book and today a foray into movie reviews, nothing new really, just a dedicated blog for my opinions.  If I continue to maintain my enthusiasm I expect the next foray will be a book review blog. 

 

The last week has been cool here around Southern Ontario and I’ve had to turn my heat on.  This past weekend I looked out at the scudding clouds and wind-driven rain and decided that although visiting Queen St in Toronto to see Word on the Street might be pleasant, I didn’t want to get caught there in the rain. 

Smallville

We all need our guilty pleasures don’t we. I’ve begun watching the fifth season of Smallville. Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, the producers of this series, seem to miss no opportunity to have fun with both the Superman tradition and the acting pasts of their actors. Making Annette O’Toole, of Beach Blanket Bingo fame Clark’s very straight-laced Mother, if nothing else, shows that even pinup girls grow up some day. That John Schneider, half the law-breaking good old boy team of Dukes of Hazard fame, is Clark’s rock solid, upstanding Father is just plain irony.

Last night, however in Episode 6 entitled, “Exposed” Tom Wopat, John’s partner in the Dukes, makes a guest appearance as a US Senator. Neither is the sexy hunk they were in those days of youthful delinquency, but Wopat is barely recognizable; except for the souped up hotrod in which he arrives in a four-wheel skid. Gone is the horn that played “Dixie” but in a bow to their past Tom somehow manages to maneuver his ample creaking frame into the passenger seat through the open window.

This series may be about the young man who would be Superman played by the achingly handsome former model Tom Welling and his school mates; but the adults who surround him are no mere props--their characters are fully developed. It is with some bemusement that I admit that occasionally a series I admire manages to survive and in this case is entering its sixth season.

Annapolis

Annapolis is set in the Naval Academy of that name in Maryland. As with the images in the promotional poster above the characters are so air-brushed that they are barely recognizable as the people they represent. It was Jake’s Mother who instilled in him the motivation to assay an appointment to the academy—since this relationship was so instrumental in driving the plot I’d have liked to have met this lady in flash-back. Seeing Jake share a smoke with her as he sits beside her gravestone doesn’t seem enough. I’d have also liked to have seen a bit more interaction between Jake and his union-boss father and older brother.

As with most movies involving military training I get hung up on the brutality, degradation, racism, and verbal and physical abuse that still appear to be part of it. Apparently it’s contrary to his human rights to refuse entry to a grossly overweight plebe but it’s alright to demean and humiliate him because of his lack of physical fitness. As I’ve said before, if this is how the military treats its own; is it any wonder that atrocities get perpetrated against the enemy. Again we run into the honour code and are shown how any law can be perverted to serve the ends of those who manipulate it.

One way or another boxing occupies a majority of this film. As a metaphor for character building I find it a stretch—that learning the discipline to succeed in the ring will carry over into a military career seems overly hopeful to me. But then so does breaking down a man’s dignity to mould him into a member of the unit. Finally, no matter how many candy bars he consumed, Jake doesn’t appear to be in the same class as the massively muscled behemoth he meets in the ring. On the other hand, the buff physique that James Franco displays in this film is almost enough to make one go out and hire a personal trainer. Somehow I don’t think he gained it by eating sugary treats.

Brick

I watched two movies yesterday, the first being the illusive Brick. The brick of the title is compacted white powder—cocaine? The target audience for this movie does not include the writer of this commentary; all the characters are either just about to get out of high school or just did so with the exception of a couple high school authority figures—no matter, adults are incidental to this plot anyway. Not being an expert on the film noir I can’t comment on how this movie riffs on the genre; what I can say is that storyline is definitely not linear and plot elements are suggested, not made clear. We are give cryptic glimpses that puts one in mind of attempting to put together a picture puzzle without knowing what scene one is trying to assemble; being given disconnected pieces one at a time. The sparse dialogue which gets spattered at us in often throw-away lines is so au courant that it was probably passé even before the movie was released on screen in California.

There are no good guys here; our guide through this maze has a past as a drug peddler and slouches through most of the scenes as if he hadn’t quite come down from the previous evening’s high. Even though Brendan seems thoroughly familiar with the drug scene in his community; he meddles in it and shakes it up as if he personally were invulnerable. He allows himself to be used as a punching bag on numerous occasions but when the ‘muscle’ is finished he just picks himself up and walks away—the lad seems to be able to take a punch; and when he wants to, he takes out one notable bully with a single punch.

The movie ends with cross-piles of bodies of Shakespearian proportions but I’m left wondering what the point was. The dead girl we are shown as the movie begins was once Brendan’s girlfriend and may or may not have died three months pregnant with his child; but he displays no outward expression of that attachment beyond the investigation into the circumstances of her death that drives this movie. There is no one in this movie I can identify with or would want to meet and I was not sufficiently engaged that I would want to spend the time watching it again in an attempt to unravel the plot elements.

A Bruce Trail Trek

Every Expedition begins with preparation. Hiking the Bruce Trail means one either arranges for the return trip or does the return journey afoot. We opted to return by bike so that meant checking out the bike and pumping up the tires. Then there's the pack, camera, binos, lunch, water bottle, rain clothes, and boots.

After the drive are the logistics of finding safe drop-off locations for the bikes and parking spot for the car. Finally we got underway at Decew Falls. The care exercised in restoring the mill is quite evident.






















The falls are largely hidden by the trees but one can certainly hear them.



















One of the many joys of a walk in the Fall Woods are sightings such as this fruiting Jack-In-The-Pulpit.



















The yellows of the goldenrod contrast with violet asters under scudding clouds.

Bruce Trail Continued

The marsh is preparing for colder climes.



















Cloudy with sunny patches. A tree about to turn colours is caught in the spotlight.



















Broad-leaved Goldenrod along the trail.



















Artist's Fungus high up a tree.



















Fellow travelers preparing for migration.

Editing Movies

Having time on my hands, I’ve been looking for new challenges.  For the last couple days I’ve been experimenting with video editing.  I’ve come to understand that certain videos will only play on their default software but I’d never really stopped to consider just how many video formats there are. 

 

Within formats there are video and audio compression codices, bit rates, screen sizes and ratios, frames per second, resolution…  So far I’ve just been playing with the software but if I get serious I’m going to have to read the directions!  So far I’ve figured out that as with most things there are no rights and wrongs; just decisions as to which compromises you want to choose.  If you want to produce a movie with no compression you’d better have terabytes of disc space. 

 

I have the software provided by ULead, Nero Vision, and Windows Movie Maker—if the latter is as user-friendly as other Microsoft products I’ll pass.  Guess I should have gotten Adobe’s Video programme when I bought Photoshop Elements 4.  Any advice out there?

 

 

Eight Below

It would seem that I’ve been selling Paul Walker short all these years. In all his movies he’s come across as a soft-spoken huggable teddy bear; not the six-foot-three-inch grandson of a pro boxer who could plausibly be a physical threat to Vin Diesel. Which brings me to Eight Below. Until I did my research the idea of Paul surviving in the brutal Antarctic cold seemed laughable.

But then this is a Walt Disney Movie, (which probably explains the over-inflated price), shot in British Columbia, Greenland, and Norway, written by Japanese authors, and costumed with the latest in hi-tech name-brand arctic-wear in the most brilliant of never-dirty colours. Homage to Paul Walker aside, this movie is about the eight dogs of the title and the devotion they bring forth in their owner—who interestingly is named Shepherd.

These are working dogs, not pets; that sleep outdoors even in Antarctica; must be approached with extreme caution; and run like the wind. Unlike their human masters they don’t wear hi-tech designer ware and they don’t use makeup—they may get their fur coats brushed mind you. In many ways this movie reminds one of March of the Penguins in it’s portrayal of the brutal reality of life on an ice sheet.

Although there is a happy ending here this is not a cuddly bedtime story for children. Some of the heroes die and some are severely injured. The movie makes a point of showing that this is not a hospitable environment and that even with the best that science has to offer—“if you have anything you don’t want to freeze, take it to bed with you.” Even with the latest in hi-tech gadgetry there are times when this place is inaccessible; or even when it is, going back to basics is the best policy. One is reminded of Scott who starved to death because, unlike Amundson who used dogs, he could not eat his gas-powered sleds.

Grand Neice Eva

This entry is about my first Grand Niece. This morning I’m feeling extremely avuncular.

Eva was born Sunday, September 17 at 12:42 AM—Liverpool England time I’m assuming. She weighed 8 pounds and 4 ounces. The proud Grandparents are about to go winging across the pond. When I’ve finished my other chores I have some E-mail to write.

The Ten Commandments

I’ve just finished watching the president of the NRA play Moses in the Ten Commandments. I suppose there was at least one commandment he didn’t honour as highly as some of the others.

Laying that issue aside, this is movie-making of another era, when movies began with Entrance Music, had Intermission Music and Exit Music. GONE WITH THE WIND and Doctor Zhivago come to mind. Just as the music that accompanies it the action proceeds at a majestic pace, the cast of thousands is costumed in brilliant colours, and the screen is filled with people. It makes one think what it would cost to produce such a spectacle today. Of course, the crowd scenes would be computer generated.

Among the more spectacular special effects is the parting of the Reed Sea. Some of the other scenes such as the burning bush, the pillar of flame and the mist of death are not cheesy but make one wander how they would have been handled with CGI. I will say that the audio people did a fantastic job of restoring the sound track and the colour is brilliant throughout.

Who'll Stop the Rain ?

It would seem the hurricane stalled off the east coast is responsible for our weather. What was supposed to have been a sunny day has remained overcast, with mist and fog.

I’m still working my way through the Iliad and have encountered two sections not included in the latter-day Brad Pitt opus. Something about Achilles battling with a river which appears to have a mind and consciousness of its own. More particularly the encounter between Achilles and Hector begins with the latter being chased three times around the walls of Troy. Considering the size of that city it’s a mystery to me how those men had any energy left to fight one another after running that many miles.

I’ve also made some progress reading Harry Potter—the Half-Blood Prince. The innocence is gone. The difference is like onto that between Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience in William Blake. It’s not so much that the world has changed and people and places that were present of old are gone; it’s the loss of positive outlook on events on the part of the teenagers whose lives we are following. There’s a feeling of foreboding and menace that encircles these young people to such a degree that even they can’t slough it off. That the book begins with a revelation that we’ve suspected for the previous 5 books but is only now made known to us and the disclosure that one of his classmates may be out to destroy Harry adds little comfort to the reader. Hanging over all is the prophesy revealed in that last book that ultimately Harry and “he who must not be named” cannot both survive. Taken overall this read is more nightmare than fairytale.

Spending Time with Wagner

Having spent 15 hours with Richard Wagner’s Ring Cycle I feel compelled to write about it.  The challenge mind you is not finding subject matter but attempting to be succinct and focused—not qualities to which Wagner aspired.  First off the comparisons between Wagner and JRR Tolkien.  Reading the synopsis of the Wagner’s Ring one can clearly see how it influenced Tolkien who also spent a good portion of his life working on an equally monumental work.  Both contain a ring of power, creatures obsessed with it, a cast of thousands, wars, great journeys, dragons, monumental battles and death. 

 

Whatever your opinion of his operas even a brief look at his biography makes it clear that Wilhelm Richard Wagner was not a very nice person.  Holding views that half a century later endeared him to the Nazi Party; he was also self-indulgent—running off with his best friend’s wife; and a control freak.  Despite these flaws in his moral fibre the genius of his operas attracted deep-pocketed, influencial patrons who were willing to aid him in his meglomaniac schemes. 

 

When I say that Wagner was a control freak see the following as evidence that this is an understatement.  The creation of Der Ring des Nibelungen took him over twenty-five years.  Not only did he compose the score for over 15 hours of opera but also wrote his own libretto.  To meet the sonic demands of his score he created three new brass instruments for the orchestra that played his music.  Recognizing the strain placed upon singers forced to project their voices over his massive orchestra for up to five hours he decided that nothing would suit but that he build a Festspielhaus specially designed to meet the demands of his plays.  Thus at Bayreuth was built a house whose design was adapted by Wagner himself and built under his direct supervision.  Both to direct the sound of his orchestra toward his singers first before it reached the audience and to ensure that this audience found nothing to distract them from the action on stage he place a hood over the orchestra pit that guaranteed the audience not see them.  To this day the town of Bayreuth and its Festspielhaus play host to performances of Wagner’s Ring Cycle most summers. 

 

There are some who find it impossible to ignore Wagner’s human failings when they approach his music but I can’t resist being drawn into those soaring melodies, whatever I might think of the man who composed them.  I don’t have to condone his lifestyle to enjoy his music.  Some final comparisons.  When Peter Jackson spent three quarters of a billion dollars creating his movie interpretation of Tolkien’s Ring—the prequel, the Hobbit is yet to come—he hired Howard Shore to create the musical score.  That Shore has studied Wagner is obvious.  His use of melodies associated with every major character—leit motifs; styles of music and singing for each region or group of creatures; unique orchestration and instrumentation for each ‘national’ grouping; and unique instruments to represent certain charcters or groups—all are operetic devices.  Finally it is no co-incidence that movie director, Francis Ford Coppola uses the Ride of the Walküres in Apocalypse Now.  The similarities between Wagner and Coppola seem obvious.