Archive for June, 2011
Everyone Talks About the Weather
Especially now that we’re doing something about it.
My beau said that the other day. We had just retired to the couch to share a very tightly rolled joint (we’re positively abstemious when it comes to our pot consumption) and discuss the political and social affairs of the day as he probably didn’t imagine in his wildest wet dreams of youth that he would be doing at the peak of his manhood with a small dry woman twelve years his senior.
Well, that’s what you get for having once been a writer for the satirical press, young man. Ain’t karma a bitch. Or just a small dry woman a dozen years your senior.
But it works for me because, no matter the topic, he can deliver a punchline for it. (Because you weren’t there for the preamble the punchline was a “ta da, clang” to the pre-1990s la-di-da idea of weather as nature, not nurture.)
My apologies for explaining the joke, by the way, but, apparently, I have a tendency to assume that everybody is keeping up with the running commentary I have in my head, like a ticker tape, and I’m trying to break the habit. Not that smoking pot is helping. I keep a little notebook handy to record the profound thoughts I may have while under the influence, profound thoughts I would like to expand on via this blog when not under the influence, but it seems that the ticker tape has been running a while in my head before I manage to get pen to paper so that the next day, what I thought was the outline of a blog post was actually: “Do less with less!” or “God isn’t God if you don’t capitalize the g” or “Is green space really green space if it’s been adapted for use by people?” or “Capitalism creates a delicious inequality” (that last one was actually stolen from the webmaster of www.sooeys.com) or “Be the first person to say: My Mom’s Pussy”.
See what I mean?
So back to the weather. Remember when weather was nature, not nurture? Well, I sort of do, although there was never a time when farmers weren’t whining about it that I can recall. So, I assume none of them voted for the politicians who are down with our polluting ways, as opposed to the politicians who think we should change course, now that we know we can actually control the weather. I mean, you’d think we’d want to elect politicians who, now that we know we actually CAN do something about the weather, want to make it better, as opposed to making it worse.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the fact that we can’t even seem to elect politicians to improve the weather, now that we know we can, that took me to my environmental (but not personal) catastrophizing saturation point the other night, it was the news about the state of our oceans, those vast bodies of salty water from which we first emerged as talking, walking fish.
And, speaking of which, what’s with us being so negative about one of our left behinds finally managing to get it together and walk around on land for a bit, too. How quickly we forget, eh? Cripes, good thing we weren’t around to knock ourselves out with shovels when we first decided to go ashore.
Of course, the dying oceans story hinges on scientific data, scientific data that seems to have been collected for quite some time without anybody saying along the way, “Gee, looks like we’ve got something here”. So, really, it’s a bit much for scientists to expect anything other than, “Oh, really? So the oceans are dying, eh? Well, fuck you very much, then, assholes. Maybe you might have thought to give us a bit of a head’s up, oh, say… A LONG TIME AGO?!”
Cripes, it all reminds me of something my mom said a while ago about a local (to the Sault) scientist who received some sort of award for his lifelong study of the spruce budworm, “What the hell is he getting an award for? We’ve still got the spruce budworm.” I mean, really, we pay scientists to study the oceans for years and one day they announce, “Oh, by the way, the oceans are dying because, well, we killed them”. So yeah. Saturation point reached, scientists. You can go back to studying other galaxies and solar systems – other galaxies and solar systems that are totally none of our business, when you really stop and think about it, which, of course, if we did what would Hollywood do for stories.
And speaking of which, have you ever noticed that the good aliens dress like modest peasants and live humbly and in harmony with the land while the bad aliens are all living high off the hog and yet still plotting and scheming to take over the world? I mean, why don’t they just continue living high off the hog and leave well enough alone?
But that’s just it, isn’t it. The question isn’t, “Can We Be Good Without God?”, it’s “Can We Ever Be Satisfied?” Now, I know myself I’d be satisfied if I had enough money that I didn’t have to work for anybody, that I could just stay home and do this all day, maybe have lunch out a couple of times a week, take two or three trips a year to see for myself how the rest of the world is doing. But I’m more than halfway to a hundred and, if I wasn’t a tail end boomer, I’d see my time as winding down. Since I am a tail end boomer, however, I see my time as winding up, and feel the need to do something VERY IMPORTANT!! to account for myself and my carbon footprint. Unfortunately, what could be more important than saving the oceans, and how the hell is small and dry little old me supposed to do that when I don’t have a pension and therefore must toil away pointlessly at the office until Freedom 85 kicks in and I can retire to my cardboard box that I plan to put amongst the stray cats who live behind the Parliament Buildings?
Because if there’s one thing we can all count on, it’s that there will always be someone to feed the stray cats who live behind the Parliament Buildings.
In the meantime, my beau has recently noticed that smoking pot doesn’t exactly pay the bills. It also doesn’t lead to much in the way of doing, which, in my case, would be writing down those profound thoughts that lead to the punchlines so diligently, however, uselessly, recorded in my notebooks, which should really be destroyed lest they fall into the wrong hands and “Quiet Revolution = letting off silent but deadlies in Church” or “Phone sex with Edith Prickley” become my legacy.
So now, thanks to scientists and the oceans dying and our failure to elect politicians who will lead us on a new course, I’ve decided to ignore the fact that, even though we can control the weather, we won’t, and cut back on all those substances which my Irish Catholic friend once told me I could use more of because “they take the edge off” so that I can get some friggin’ writing done that might actually lead to something VERY IMPORTANT!! being my legacy. Or not. But at least I’ll have fulfilled my dream of being the first to put something in writing that isn’t just a contextless punchline: “Gated trailer parks” or “Unconditional Love? or Abject Dependency?”
And, also in the meantime, I’m going to send Greenpeace some money and continue on in my campaign to give a five dollar bill to anybody who asks for spare change. And note that I said “asks”. That’s because, well, let’s just say that people can react very negatively when you mistake them for being in need of $5 when it turns out they’re just waiting in line to get into a club. I mean, where’s a scientist when he can actually be of some use, eh? “Excuse me, nerd, but, in your scientific opinion, is this person too shy to ask for $5, or just waiting in line to get into a club?”
“Why Isn’t Jesus Ever Smiling From the Cross?”
Message to Bob McKenzie
If anarchists and extremists are responsible for the riots that ensued after the Vancouver Cannucks lost the Stanley Cup to the Boston Bruins, then it only stands to reason that hockey fans include a number of anarchists and extremists.
Most likely just visiting from Montreal – right?
My goodness but all you hockey sluts out there want it both ways. Face it, you cost the rest of us both coming and going and we suck it up because that’s the Canadian way – one way. If a bunch of suits are making money, it’s all good.
The rioters were young white male hockey fans whose team had just lost the Stanley Cup. Why not look to the NHL to pony up with a few pennies towards expenses, eh?
Follow the Money
Just kidding. The money has been found. It’s hidden in plain sight in the riding of the new President of Treasury Board. But I guess when Conservatives talk about smaller government they mean a handful of politicians using public money to create slush funds without the red tape of bureaucratic oversight, accountability, transparency – all that big government stuff that Conservatives seem to dislike, especially once they’re in office.
Of course, we knew about this before the election, so I can’t imagine what my point is. Hilariously, Preston Manning, of the Manning Institute, claims that Canada is becoming more Conservative. Yeah, corrupt, too. Kind of shamelessly so. Who knew Conservatives preferred politicians who use public money like it’s their own to do with whatever they want.
Anyway, once again, I’m done blogging about this stuff. The people have spoken and the people are obviously idiots, so why the hell do I care what happens to Canada. Sigh. According to the media, we should all have been worried about the NDP winning the election, topsy turvy political world in which we live. Apparently, they would have been worse than brazen thieves.
Hey, at least the money they stole would have gone towards our pensions. I can’t believe we turned down doubling our pensions so that corporations could get a tax break. Oh well, maybe we won’t live long enough to regret it.
So I’m going to do some creative blogging now. For real, this time. Honest. Tune in tomorrow and I promise I’ll have a whole new shtick: The Private Life of Citizen Sooey.
Hey, Sports Fans!
When I saw that Stephen Harper flew a government jet to the game in Boston I thought, in addition to the bad optics of that, after telling the rest of us to suck it up, budget-wise, wouldn’t it be funny if Al Queda showed up on the big screen to endorse Vancouver? I mean, c’mon, Al Queda. It’s the Stanley Cup.
But I just watched a CBC interview with a (the?) governor of Kandahar and, seriously, I almost expected it to end with him imploring to the interviewer, a somewhat shocked looking Susan Ormiston, “Ca na da been vedy vedy gud to me” ala Garrett Morris on Saturday Night Live doing a Dominican playing for the Toronto Blue Jays. You could tell, too, that he thought Canada was the sort of country that would admire a crooked hustler like him, although he was very clear on the point that “Kandahar was no Toronto”, so, like, don’t any of you Canadians watching this get any ideas about showing up to muscle in on my action.
I dunno. He seemed surprisingly candid in his reaction to the Canadian army’s somewhat dubious to my mind, exceedingly generous to his, contribution to the makeover of Afghanistan.
He likes us, he really likes us.
As a Former Patriot
I just want to say, pretty much the worst thing a society can do is allow its government to increase security, in any way, shape or form. So why anyone thinks it’s a good idea to let a guy who has very limited respect, if any, for democracy to increase government powers in terms of domestic security, is beyond this good socialist.
And I just heard Gen. Lewis Mackenzie say, “In for a penny, in for a pound”, vis as vis our foreign policy.
Oh, really? Or perhaps one could say, “good money after bad”, or “compounding an error”, or “since we don’t know what the hell we’re doing in Libya, why the hell would we commit to doing more of it – particularly when we can’t get a figure from our own fucking government on what we’re committing to in the first place!”