FALLING BACK INTO THE GROVE

Anyone who has indulged in the practice of bringing back sand and sea water from that idyllic winter vacation spot and made the mistake of opening that bottle of water has discovered that our oceans are alive. Arguing about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin pales beside the thousands of microscopic creatures that live in even a drop of water from our oceans. What seems even more counter-intuitive is the fact that water under our arctic ice pack is even more productive than that beautiful clear blue water we see at the equator. Although we keep hearing about how many species are becoming extinct in our rain forests before they are even discovered; we are now learning that our oceans are home to creatures in an order of magnitude thousands greater than those known on land.

An undercover police officer had his vehicle stolen in Hamilton this week; along with his hand cuffs, bullet-proof vest, his baton, his ammunition, his revolver. No word on what he was doing while the carjackers were busy but nevertheless he has some splaining to do.

As anyone with access to Google Earth can now discover the US Navy built a barracks in San Diego in the shape of a swastika—proving the old nug, nug, wink, wink joke about military intelligence. Discovering that one “L” shaped wing worked well they decided to add three more but apparently no one bothered to draw a site plan.

On Nov. 10 Neo-Nazis have applied to march in protest of the war in Iraq through the Prague Jewish Quarter. That date just happens to be the anniversary of Kristallnacht. In the newly democratic Czech Republic they have that right but is it possible they have more provocative motives? Do we have the right to pervert democracy in this manner? We’re talking the equivalent of an Orange March through a Catholic neighbourhood.

It would seem it’s been some time since I drove west along the 401 to Kitchener Ontario. That route is now six lanes all the way to highway 8. Mind you, to prove that we build highways at least a decade after they are needed yesterday morning the east-bound traffic was bumper to bumper most of the way.

The iconic Mime Marcel Marceau died in Paris at age 84. I fear I had no idea he had still been alive. Artist Ken Danby has joined the likes of Tom Thomson by dying while canoeing in Algonquin Park. It would seem he succumbed to a heart attack at age 67. For those who revel in ultra realist painting the value of his art works just increased at least ten-fold.

Autumnal Equinox

You couldn’t tell it by sticking your nose outside but Fall arrives tomorrow. For the next year each change of season will have special significance in my life as it will be the last of my working life at Canada Post. As of time of writing I have 340 days, twelve hours and fifty minutes until retirement. With holiday time I’ll be working my last day a month earlier than that. In preparation for that event I’ve been doing a powerful amount of thinking and just a little planning. Braved the rigours of traffic on the 401 across the top of Toronto to check out an RV in Whitby this week—I believe I’m serious about attempting a peripatetic lifestyle for a while after I retire. Switching from a two-storey apartment condo with three bedrooms and two baths to a living arrangement smaller than my bedroom will be an adjustment. It has occurred to me that with a two-burner propane stove I’ll be able to find a use for the wok and cast iron griddle I had to retire when I bought my smooth top stove. With the amount of cooking gear in my kitchen I won’t have to buy anything to set up my ‘cottage on wheels.’

Being old enough to remember a time when the Canadian Dollar was worth more than its American counterpart it is with some interest I note that the events of the last week saw it rise to parity. I wonder how long the prices on items such as books will continue to gouge the buyer by as much as 40¢ on the dollar. The second event I read this morning; the dime novel will never be quite the same again. Tor Star; the holding company that owns Harlequin Romances has announced that forthwith all 120 novels it markets monthly will be available online as downloads. What will lovelorn maidens do with their sweaty palms? Will they short out their laptops?

Wish I could point to a list of accomplishments but alas that hasn’t happened. I haven’t even managed a blog in the last week.

Not With It

"Education is a method whereby one acquires a higher grade of prejudices."

-- Laurence J. Peter

 

I’m truly vacationing at this point.  This morning I couldn’t remember what day it is.  Or then it could be the drug I took last night.  It took the sinus headache I awoke with yesterday to finally persuade me that I had to break down and take an anti-histamine last night.  My system had become so inflamed I was itching allover and my stomach was upset.  Last night I took Benedryl, anti-histamine in its purist form.  It took almost four hours for the effect to kick in; I realize I should have taken it earlier in the evening; but when it did, sleep followed rather quickly. 

 

Slept in until nearly 7:00 AM and awoke with what feels like a hangover….  Without the headache…. Or the upset stomach…. Or the hypersensitive hearing….  Maybe it isn’t like a hangover at all; I’ve never really had one of those.  Whatever I have the world is happening in slo mo around me this morning.  Thought processes slowed way down, head feels heavy along with the rest of me; it’s like being only half awake without the possibility of actually rousing oneself.  Far from heeding the warning about not handling mechanized devices I don’t feel capable of it in the first place.  In the kitchen this morning I handled everything with very precise delicate care.  Decided I needed my first coffee to be sufficiently alert to operate the toothbrush—well, it is an electric toothbrush.

 

Having successfully survived the toothbrush I decided it might be safe to assay shaving—well, it is an electric shaver.  The shaver survived but I managed to miss the head with my spray lubricant.  Suppose another coffee may be in order before I attempt breakfast, or brunch as it may more properly be called by the time I get to making it.  I’d like to resume reading but fear that would be a prescription for napping at this point, perhaps I’ll watch a DVD instead, that way it’s easier to find where I left off when I fall asleep than if I dropped a book without a bookmark in place. 

 

It’s election time again in Ontario and the mudslinging and lawn signs are out in full force.  The local Liberal Candidate had his up the next day—I suppose prior warning helps.  The party in power, the Liberals, are making all kinds of promises about how they’ll spend our tax dollars.  The Tories, under John Tory, are busy complaining about all the broken promises from the last election; what do they take us for, do they actually believe anyone was naïve enough the last time round to actually expect any politician to keep any promise he’d made once he got in power.  This from the party of Brian Mulroney, who promised he wouldn’t implement a GST. Speaking of the devil his own mudsling opus, masquerading as his memoirs, has just hit the book stands.  A bio of his wife was so popular it didn’t even sell as a bargain book; hence it was sent back to be pulped—a fate to which I’d consign those memoirs—but I digress.  Last election the voters finally turfed the Harris/Eves Tories—I never understood who voted for them in the first place or was stupid enough to re-elect them, how many times?  Most people I know didn’t admit to it in public.  The electorate didn’t so much vote for the Liberals but against the Tories.  What will happen this time is up for grabs—is the Rhinoceros Party fielding a candidate?  

Happiness: A Thing to be Gained?

After reading a few dozen poets I’m attempting to arrive at a conclusion here.  Is there such a thing as a happy childhood?  Does it take an unhappy childhood to create a good writer or are the only authors who write about their childhoods those who had an unhappy one?  Enquiring minds would like to know. 

 

When you are born your parents are issued a birth certificate; the church gives a baptismal certificate—the lack of one or the other makes collecting old age pension later in life problematic.  To drive a car one must pass an exam and obtain a driver’s license.  Marriage requires a license but cohabiting for a sufficient period of time seems to involve the same rights and duties.  Dying triggers issuance of a death certificate though with or without one the target remains inert.  The sex act and procreation, on the other hand, can be and are performed by hormonal teens on the back seat of parked cars or the living room couch without any by your leave. 

 

Young adults the world over embark upon the most important enterprise of their lives totally unprepared.  Oh, they get Sex Ed in health class and if they are lucky that talk about the birds and the bees from a guardian—nudge, nudge; wink, wink—but precious little training about how to be good parents.  Judging by the number of people who inveigh about their terrible childhoods they certainly don’t learn from parental example—unless in reaction to that experience.  Schools teach the importance of showing up on time, working within a structured environment, and if we’re lucky how to read and add—in other words how to be good factory workers; but when it comes to the practical matters of how to budget, eat nutritiously, choose recreational activities, and raise a family, education is sadly lacking. 

 

The educational system has become extremely efficient about separating religious experience from education—God forbid anyone be offended by the observance of Christmas or Easter; but we’ll take the holidays thank you, was Santa good to you, did the Easter Bunny leave you chocolate Eggs?  Unfortunately when it comes to practical matters such as health, the arts, and home economics; phys ed, music programmes, and cooking classes are the first things to get the axe when budgets get tight.  The objective of most academic programs is preparation for a university education and those who do not aspire to those lofty ideals are looked down on as second-class mortals.  This model ignores the fact that college is not the right or best goal for a large proportion of school populations.  Adherence to this model has led to a shortage of skilled trades people throughout North America.  Apprenticeship programmes go unfilled everywhere.  Have you tried to hire a plumber or electrician lately? 

 

If you look at the drop out rate between first and second year at any university you will know just how inappropriate the experience is for so many students—it is now an extremely expensive experiment as well.  Somehow, at some point hopefully sooner than later we must arrive at a model that sees the goal of education as being preparation for a satisfying and fulfilled adult life.  Promoting students who have inadequate literacy skills within an academic programme just because failing is bad for them serves to set them up for failure in later life.  We need to learn to do more than fill out forms for government programmes, unemployment insurance, and welfare.  What this model seems to ignore is that by the time a doctor or lawyer has graduated with a half-million dollar debt-load a plumber or electrician has already earned his first half million.   We need to rediscover the value of honest toil. 

Rainy Day Feeling

"I think that God in creating Man somewhat overestimated his ability."

n      Oscar Wilde

 

For first time in memory my “In Box” is totally empty.  In part because no one is writing me but also because I’ve had enough time on my hands to work my way through the entire file.  Outside it’s raining again and I’ve put off grocery shopping for yet another day.  Sooner or later I’ll have to replenish my larder but I’m not starving yet.  The weather seems to have been granting me ample excuse in the past few months to curl up in front of a good movie or in the rocker with a good book; alas it’s been to hot to curl up by a fire. 

 

I’ve already written about Supernatural but after watching over half the first season I’m moved to wonder how they avoid speeding tickets as they power that Impala across the landscape with the tail pipes roaring.  We see them fill it up but it would seem Dean does his own maintenance as we never see them stop for an oil change or repairs.  With the traveling they do major overhauls would seem to be in order.   It would be an interesting exercise to plot their travels.  Season 2 comes to DVD next week and the third season is opening on TV. 

 

Reading my blogs you might come to the conclusion that I spend most of my time watching DVD’s but I need to spend some time writing about the books I’ve read and the music to which I’m listening.  My music collection is an eclectic mix of Opera, Orchestral, Solo Piano, Guitar, Violin, Pipe Organ, Canadian Pop, Folk and Roots.  Just received by mail a copy of the latest Bacon Brothers effort and will have to write a review once I’ve audited it.  I wouldn’t attempt to classify Mike and Kevin’s music; in fact I find most music categories artificial—to me music is either well written and well performed, or it sucks.  I’ve also been neglecting to write about my library; in particular the poets in my collection. 

 

Spent my day reading, listening to music and writing blogs and E-mail.  Walked across the road for some Greek Cuisine.  Baked a cake.   Now it’s time I relaxed from doing nothing. 

Doubt is Healthy

Remarkable how often I see items germane to my most recent discussions:

One of the more dramatic recent revelations was the letters of Mother Teresa. Apparently all those people who express shock that the dear woman had doubts never heard of St. Thomas. Rather than bring down her stock in my opinion these discoveries serve to further increase my regard for her. A bit of self-doubt and self-examination never hurt anyone. Some of the most frightening people in history lacked self-doubt—take Hitler for example. What makes these release of Mother Teresa’s private correspondence impress me is the fact that despite her private misgivings she soldiered on and achieved and inspired others to achieve great things. These disclosures serve to reveal her humanity and rather than denigrate her reputation reveal her as an ordinary mortal whose actions may be emulated by the rest of us. Taking the Saint off her pedestal doesn’t make her any less a saint, it just serves to increase our responsibility to emulate her service by removing the excuse that we couldn’t do what she did because she was in some way super-human.

To return to my own demons let’s get back to the discussion of poverty. Remember these are discussion points; not policies I necessarily advocate.

In the animal kingdom overpopulation results in starvation, sickness and death. For moral and philosophical reasons we choose to attempt to prevent this from happening among the human population. However even modern science has its limits in terms of how much food can be produced and if population growth continues unchecked a breaking point will be reached if it hasn’t already. When creatures live in too densely packed numbers environmental degradation is inevitable. As horrific as Ebola, Aids, and an impending Bird Flu epidemic, (caused by too intimate contact between fowl and humans), may be; they could also be seen as the environment’s natural means of dealing with over-population. Indeed a Pandemic of an entirely new strain of influenza has the potential to wipe out hundreds of millions of people world-wide and in particular the young and healthy individuals of child bearing age who will have the least built-up immunity through past exposure.

Eugenics has a chequered past however let’s play devil’s advocate. Without invoking the debate over Creationism vs. Evolutionary theory it is hard to deny that selective breeding when applied to the food we eat has made it possible to vastly increase agricultural productivity. When we start thinking of survival of the fittest in human terms moral, social, and ethical considerations come into play. We know that Nineteenth Century American Slave Owners practised it and what effect that practise had upon the modern crop of elite athletes is an extremely touchy subject. In the animal kingdom predators pick off the week and diseased and the females of the species select the males they breed with for their superior abilities as providers. It has been argued that modern medicine has allowed those with genetic weaknesses and abnormalities to survive to breeding age. While the compulsory sterilization of the mentally deficient is socially and morally repugnant; ultra-sound scans of the unborn has led parents to agonize over the termination of pregnancies. The same technology has led to less savoury decisions when male progeny are prized; and in vitro fertilization has led to sperm banking and attempts to breed “super-kids”. Put in simpler terms science has out-stripped theology, philosophy and law when it comes to forming policies to deal with it. Cloning, Stem-Cell research, and cryogenics are just a few examples.

To get back to issues of poverty it is a truism to say that no one should have to go hungry or die of thirst. How we deal with the political, societal, and environmental causes are quite another question. Tied up with this are issues of prejudice, ethnic cleansing, human greed, tribal infighting, and war. While I don’t advocate hand-ringing; I do claim that international geo-political action is necessary in many cases. Even in the case of purely natural disasters response times are pitiful. Take the American response to flooding in New Orleans. Or Canada’s Disaster Response Unit that takes six months to deploy if we can find someone to get it there as our military lacks the resources to do it themselves. Even when people are dying of hunger, thirst, and exposure parochial considerations rear their ugly heads. One can think of numerous examples in Africa, the Tamils in Sri Lanka, the East Timorese; all of whom have claimed that central governments have acted to prevent aid in reaching them. When do humanitarian issues trump political sovereignty and who gets to make those decisions? The United Nations General Assembly moves to slowly to take effective action and the permanent members of the Security Council have been at loggerheads over the issue for decades.
What to do? We need education but even that has its limits. Teaching a man to fish may feed him for the future but if too many fish the resource will be depleted and collapse—just ask Newfoundlanders about that one. In the end it still boils down to over-population. Forcing people not to have more babies may be morally repugnant; but the alternative is providing effective education and means that will lead people to choose to make these decisions for themselves. Unfortunately this will take time; time we may not have. We are already confronted with the spectre of malaria borne infections and Aids; and the struggle to make economical drugs available to fight them. When the next influenza pandemic strikes the only effective treatments are going to be immunization and antiviral drugs. Vaccine production takes time and a viral agent to react against, deploying sufficient stores of that vaccine and waiting for resistance to become effective takes even longer; millions will die in the meantime. Antiviral drugs are extremely expensive and have a short shelf life; therefore only the rich and socially advantaged will be able to access them. Need I say more?
As my discussion serves to illustrate finding effective, morally supportable solutions takes a great deal of delving as well as soul searching. Throwing money at the problem simply to assuage our guilt is not guaranteed to provide the result we would want. There are hundreds of agencies out there that capitalize on our guilt but serve only to employ themselves while providing minimal aid to the needy. Finding volunteer organizations that provide practical assistance to relieve poverty takes some digging. We need to work at finding what the root causes of the problem are, decide what action needs to be taken to alleviate it, and work to influence governments worldwide to recognize that action needs to be taken. If this means shaming governments into taking effective action so be it. Sometimes it takes losing face to force governments to ‘face up’ to social issues. Finding the will to fight poverty at home as well as abroad would seem to be the first step; finding effective means to that end will take longer but come only after we’ve made that first step. That I have doubts that this is possible does not mean that I give up all hope that the goal may be attained.

Charitable Donations

I appended as a comment to my essay on Poverty the indignant reply I received from Brian of the popular music group WHY, in Winnipeg. 

 

Long-winded, EH!  Actually I thought I gave the topic rather short shrift.  I’m not an instant messenger kind of guy.  Certainly I exude a great deal of cynicism.  I actually delivered mail to the guy who ran the Wheel Chair Basketball Racket.  His deal with the actual charity guarantees them a set amount yearly and he pockets everything else, even though the donors get charitable donation receipts for their gifts.  Have you checked the percentage of the funds raised that is eaten up by overhead and management fees?  I informed the Salvation Army, another delivery customer of mine that I would deduct $25.00 from next year’s donation for every time they wasted my funds by attempting to get more money out of me. 

 

I didn’t intend my dissertation to be condescending, insulting or a put down; though I did detect a great deal of righteous indignation in your reply.  You might say that I, along with many others, suffer from charity fatigue.  One rule I have is never to make a charitable donation by mail.  For every cheque you send by mail you will get yourself on 30 to 50 other mailing lists.  When you handle those mailings in bulk as I do you develop more than cynicism. 

 

There may well be many effective charities out there but it takes a great deal of research to ferret them out.  Too much well-intentioned “do-goodism” does more harm than good.  Although their lifestyles may seem harsh and primitive by our standards the bushmen of the Kalahari and the Yanomami of the Brazilian Rainforest would benefit most by being totally ignored; if only we could encourage the rest of the world to do the same.  Look at what our incursions into Northern Canada has done to the traditional Inuit way of life.  Too many of our modern day efforts are necessary because of missionary work and the traders who followed them in the past. 

 

You live in the Winnipeg area, have you spent a lot of time in local Native Areas?  Just by arriving on this continent European settlers wiped out over 90% of the indigenous population with their diseases even before they made first contact.  Without delving into the sins of the past at the present rate of progress land claim settlement negotiations will stretch on into the next millennium.  The courts are still bogged down in native residential schools reparations.  The average Band Member on a reserve lives in substandard housing without running water or indoor plumbing.  Sure, the Indian Affairs Ministry spends millions but too much of that money disappears before it actually helps a First Nations Person. 

Coffee Making

Witnessing a quarter-mile line-up at Tim Hortons take-out window makes me shake my head.  Hard to believe there are so many people out there who are so rushed (?), or so lacking in culinary skills that they can’t load a coffee-maker at home without burning water?  Just imagine their lives had they lived a century ago!  To go out for coffee would have entailed getting the horse saddled if you were riding or getting out the carriage and hitching the horse to it with all the harness that entailed and going to town.  Not exactly a spontaneous act. 

 

Back on the home front in a turn of the last century kitchen making coffee wasn’t a spur of the moment decision—it took planning and preparation.  Since you probably got up before dawn finding a match in the dark and lighting a candle or lamp would have been the first task.  When you consider how fumble-fingered we are upon arising it’s a wonder more homes didn’t burn to the ground. 

 

Having made it to the kitchen the first task would have been making a fire.  Making fire in a kitchen range begins the night before in the wood shed with an axe selecting dry wood from the special kindling pile to make finger-sized splinters.  These would be laid out in a corner of the wood box in the kitchen on a bed of newspaper or birch bark, which would be used as tinder to ignite it.  [If you’ve camped you may remember that even wet birch bark will burn like gasoline once you pull its layers apart.]  Another alternative is pine cones. 

 

Back in the kitchen having opened the stove box the first task is to rake away the ashes from the previous day’s fire.  If there is still a bed of live coals remaining you may not need tinder but otherwise having cleared the fire-box and opened the chimney and stove drafts to ensure a good draw of air tinder is laid—the paper gets crumpled or torn in thin strips—and the kindling laid on top.  Now one finds a match or lights a splinter from the candle.  Once the kindling ignites larger pieces of wood are placed on top to sustain the fire.  When it is burning lively it is safe to close the chimney damper.  If you burn soft wood like pine you will hear the exploding pockets of resin in the wood—the characteristic crackling of a fire—and over time there will be a build up of creosote in the chimney so to keep the heat in your kitchen range and prevent the ignition of that creosote by overheating the chimney you damp down the chimney. 

 

Next task would be to take the pail and go to the well for fresh cold water.  Don’t worry, there’s no hurry, it will take time for the stove to heat up.  Lucky people had a hand pump in the kitchen but if a careless child left the lever in the wrong position they would lose prime and a trip to the well would still be in order. 

 

Coffee beans would be next and they would have to be ground with a hand grinder.  Now to find the percolator, rinse it out and fill it with fresh cold water, fill the basket with grounds and place it on the hottest point on top of the stove.  When the pot stops singing and the watch-glass on top shows that first sign of bubbling water or that perking sound is heard the pot could be moved further back on the stove—one wouldn’t want to burn the coffee. 

 

Now it’s time to check the clock to time that percolation—six minutes for medium, eight minutes for strong—and while we’re at it we’ll probably wind that clock as well.  If you want cream in that coffee a trip to creamer in the small well in the corner of the basement is in order to scoop off some cream.  By now it’s probably time to stoke that fire in the stove and damp down the stove draft.  When the coffee has perked long enough it’s time to remove the basket and its grounds—if they’re left in the coffee gets bitter.  Remember that coffeepot in the jail on Gunsmoke? 

 

Now to draw the rocking chair up close to the fire and enjoy that first cup with one’s slippered feet up on a footstool.  My father made coffee this way with one exception; once I came along we got electric lights and a refrigerator for the milk and cream. 

Do Something!

Or: Lies, Dame Lies, and....

I've done my morning browse and read the comics; I've even had my coffee. Now I should bestir myself to do some housework. Brought my cooler down with a view to emptying my fridge to allow it to defrost and get it thoroughly cleaned. It's a frost-free but there are corners that the auto-system doesn't get to. I should also take out my recyclables but the damp prospect out my balcony window doesn't make that seem an appealing task. I really should get out my bicycle, pump up the tires and go for a ride but again the damp weather is off-putting. Excuses, excuses....

I've been spending too much time at the console of this computer but it is beguiling. In spite of all the browsing, music, reading, photos, and videos I've been neglecting my E-mail and my podcasts continue to accumulate on iTunes. At the moment I'm sitting here watching my internet connection show that my computer is downloading something off the net--trouble is I've no clue what programme is doing it or what's being downloaded. It's likely to be a Windows Update Background Download but even so I'd prefer knowing. I realize a firewall would provide that information but to date I've found them more trouble than they're worth.

I'm still having trouble remaining alert and awake while I attempt to read; the bloom seems to have gone off watching DVDs. Everywhere I look there are papers to be sorted, read and filed--if only in the circular file. Magazines, books and mail to be read and put away. Paper, cardboard, and bottles to be taken to the recycling bins or for refunds. Household chores to be completed--dusting everywhere, vacuuming, washing, paint to be retouched, repairs to be made, windows to be cleaned, laundry, clothes that need mending; even in bachelor's hall a woman's work is never done.

I've got my refrigerator turned off, the contents of the freezer safely stowed in the deep freeze and the frig section placed in Coleman Coolers. The remaining usable bits I'm using to make dinner and the rest will make a trip down the garbage chute. To prove my point the door of my freezer section is busy dripping all over my floor. Up next is the washing of the shelves and drawers; then it's just a waiting game until I'm satisfied the appliance has dried out so that I can turn it back on and put everything back in an organized fashion. Tomorrow I'll be going shopping to recharge my supplies.

Made it to the local Brewer's Retail later in the day Wednesday to return my empties. Of course it's now The Beer Store and for reasons I didn't ask it's been converted back from self-serve since I was last there over eighteen months ago. And they're now accepting LCBO wine and liquor bottles. I certainly have noticed that a 20 Oz. draft of beer costs $ 6.00 at my local eatery but it wasn't til I just did the math--actually my keyboard's built-in calculator did it--that I realized a 12 Oz. bottle of my favourite tipple costs $ 2.25. And to think that I can remember when the boys at the Legion were in shock because a tap glass of ale went up from 10 ¢ to 15--of course their spirits are Excise and Tax Free. I haven't priced it lately mind you.

Poverty

With the jaundiced and cynical eyes of a 58-year-old I see poverty not as a condition but as a state of mind.  When I see families who have lived on welfare for generations spending 10% of their welfare cheque to cash it at a Money Mart rather than set up a bank account I shake my head.  Poverty is about the distribution of wealth, educating the poor, and politics.  A “friend request” on the web site “My Space” from the Winnipeg band Why sparked this polemic as a result of their anti-poverty campaign.  Not sure that I appreciate their taste in music but I’m moved to comment at length about their cause.

 

The Government of Canada spends millions in foreign aid yearly; we should probably be spending more but unfortunately much of what we do allocate supports Canadian industry and Agriculture sending inappropriate food stuffs and technology to Third World Countries.  Our cash infusions tend to line the pockets of corrupt officials in these same countries.  Do you remember the disastrous earthquake of nearly a decade ago in Italy and the millions donated to rebuild housing for the homeless?  Until recently most of those people still lived in tents because all of that money disappeared before it reached them.  Unless the aid organizations proffering help follow the money and work in situ to ensure their help benefits those in need the likelihood is that those in need will never benefit from it.  The corollary that follows is that when this does happen those aid organizations are going to need military protection from those who see their assets diminished by this intervention.  Hence even Doctors without Borders and pacifist organizations such as Mennonite Relief are targeted by so-called terrorists. 

 

In many parts of the world it is not the lack of money that causes poverty but its concentration in the hands of a few.  Take Nigeria for example.  The oil resources there are being exploited in part by Canadian Companies but the riches they create; rather then benefit the ordinary citizen; have been a bane to their existence because they have been forced off their traditional lands by oil exploration.  The profits have been concentrated in the hands of a few who employ armies to protect their interests.  How do we effect change without being seen to interfere in the affairs of a sovereign nation? 

 

Even our most noble efforts tend to work against us.  We have introduced safe drinking water, nutrition, and basic medical care to most parts of the world; but in many countries the only means of ensuring support in senior years is to have large families so that enough offspring survive to provide eldercare.  Therefore, although we have reduced child mortality; we have contributed to an unprecedented population explosion as couples still insist on having large families to ensure their future support.  We have all read about the Chinese government’s legislated efforts to curb population explosion.  Even the most recent pope in Rome still insists that birth control is a sin—poverty and hunger aren’t?  Mankind is in danger of destroying the ecology of the planet that supports them by their very numbers. 

 

World Health and ecology are directly interlinked.  Although the use of DDT has been banned in Canada for decades it is still manufactured in vast quantities here for export to tropical nations fighting malaria and hence still a threat to our songbirds and environment.  Malaria still infects millions worldwide.  By digging wells to give drinking water to nomadic people we have contributed to the desertification of Africa by concentrating these people in one place.  In Africa a staggering proportion of the adult population suffers from HIV infection but religious and sexual practice still serve as catalyst to its spread.  The number of children who will become orphaned as a result of AIDs related death is frightening.  Global warming threatens the inundation of millions of square miles of low-lying countries by rising sea levels while First-World Countries argue their economies cannot sustain the measures necessary to fight it and Third-World Countries contend the curtailment of fossil-fuel use would cripple their growing economies.

 

In summary, if we don’t curtail population growth; malnutrition and disease will do it for us.  Future wars are going to be fought over drinking water, not wealth.  Even though modern communication has made of the world a global village and our humanitarian needs have made of us one people; tribal infighting and petty parochial ethnic groups threaten to tear us further and further asunder.  I repeat—poverty is about ideas, not wealth. 

 

 

 

 

 

Attention Muggles

Attention Muggles: Major Plot Spoilers Ahead!

 

Last night I finally finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.  Remarkably despite the tension that builds in this book I did not find it as dark as some of its predecessors.  This is the kind of book it really would be preferable to sit down and read uninterrupted over a long weekend when one has nothing else to do—as a child could do.  In reading it over two months one tends to lose track of the many plot twists.  My hat’s off to J. K. Rowling; this final book in the series proves just how masterful a story teller she really is.  In this book she ties together plot threads that began in Book one of the series along with those added along the way.  Let’s get the salient one out of the way first.  I predicted during the hoopla leading up to the publishing of this book that Harry had to die and I was right.  But that declaration ignores the fact that Harry is the “boy who lived.”  Therefore, even though he is killed in the final chapter of this book—he ends up living after all.  This is a tale with talking pictures of dead people after all. 

 

Book six left me deeply dissatisfied on many levels and now that I’ve finished the series I understand that on many levels it sets the groundwork for book seven.  Book seven makes book six whole.  Why did Dumbledore die and is Professor Snape the villain he appears to be?  I don’t envy the writers who have to script a movie based on this book that will leave those who paid good money to watch it satisfied when they come out of the theatre. 

 

As this series progressed much is made of the fact that Harry is growing up as it unfolds.  Yes he hits puberty and hormones kick in but the more important growth is spiritual and philosophical.  This is an orphan whose adopted parents force him to live in a broom closet under the stairs.  When he comes to Hogwarts he finally does come home and its Headmaster becomes a father figure who is idolized.  As with all children parents progress from ultimate law-givers who can do no wrong to ordinary fallible mortal beings.  It is this realization that can fuel teenage rebellion.  How those teens come out of this experience depends as much on the teen as on the parent who must accept his/her new status in their eyes.  In this final book Harry comes face to face with the dilemma of confronting the fact that even his hero has deep flaws.  The test comes in accepting the fact that parents are ordinary flawed individuals while learning to love and respect them despite their imperfections.  In so doing you must accept that you too are a flawed being.  It is bringing Harry to this realization that is one of facets of this story that helps give this book such satisfying closure. 

Summer's Almost Gone

Every now and then I date myself in unfavourable ways.  That last sentence proves I grew up at a time when Canadians had still not succumbed to the American usage which drops the “u” from words such as honour.  Then there are the myriad expressions that were in common usage during my formative years that are no longer considered politically correct or have gotten distinctly negative connotations.  Anyone who lives in the Southern US is well aware of songs that it is no longer cool to sing and words, in particular the “N word” that white Americans may not utter.  Among the expressions that use that word are “ ‘N’ in the woodpile” and the one I let slip yesterday in a moment of relaxed vigilance “free ‘N’” to express the fact that for the next month I’m on vacation.  I grew up in an age when mentally unstable people were still crazy, the mentally challenged were retarded and Afro-Americans were Negros.  This last term is no longer included in the MS Word dictionary and the ethnic group to which it refers seems to find whatever terminology white Americans become accustomed to using offensive to the point that I’ve lost touch with what the current politically correct expression might be.  Please, I’m not intending to cause anyone offense, I’m just the product of my upbringing and some habits are hard to repress. 

 

This morning dawned brilliantly sunny.  In fact I actually managed to sleep in long enough to see daylight when I got out of bed.  Finally, for the last long weekend of the summer season we are promised sunshine—you may remember that last weekend was an absolute washout.  It has also dawned on me that this is the first day of September; my calendars are in need of attention.  I made the mistake of listening to the news this morning on CBC at seven and learned that an American Senator has committed political suicide by getting caught in a gay sex sting operation and an arrest has been made in the letter bomb case in Toronto.  The latter story is, of course, of particular interest to one who handles mail for a living but except for his lack of discretion I believe the senator should be left alone.  His wife may have issues but the rest of the world should just butt—pun not intended—out and mind its own business. 

 

Wish I could point to a list of exciting things I plan to do during my time off work but to this point the plan was just to survive until.  It normally takes at least a week to unwind.  Certainly given the traffic on our highways this long weekend and the carnage that will inevitably ensue I find it meet to stay safely at home.  I’m down to the last 40 pages of the final Harry Potter and plan to finish it this weekend once I manage to stay alert long enough to read it.  I have at least a thousand books stacked up to keep me busy in its wake.  I’ve managed to get through 14 so far this year so I’m still adding to my shelves faster than I can actually read.  I’ve been dividing my TV watching between several DVD sets of TV series notably Supernatural, Picket Fences, Gunsmoke, and Buffy.  Recently Future Shop has offered irresistible deals on the latter and X-Files so I’ve a considerable shelf of unwatched DVD’s to keep me busy.  I have a stack of CD’s I have yet to audition but at the moment I’m listening to web radio.  And since I’ve entered the 21^st Century I also have iTunes Music I’ve yet to try out and 11 day’s worth of podcasts to catch up on.  Right now I should finish reading today’s comics before I go any further so I’ll post this and write later.