Whose BRIGHT idea was
MY KARMA DROVE OVER MY DOGMA?

For some background info check out:
http://the-brights.net/ what do you think?
& here is some funny stuff & some harsh mean spirited crap @
http://evolvefish.com/index.html which sort of fits in with the conundrum of getting labelled and now without further ado....

I recently came across a new term, a bright, which is being tossed about for people whose worldview is naturalistic and free of supernatural and mystical elements. Just as homosexuals captured the term GAY to integrate and evade the ugly monikers that were attached to them (that only they can use now),now atheist, naturalist, rationalist, humanist, agnostic, objectivist and free thinkers are given the opportunity to have a new improved label to avoid the societal stigmata of the former. bright.

My initial reaction was mixed, is it too Politically Correct and I thought that bright sounded a bit too conceited a term although not all GAY people are well, gay!
I also worried that adding another label to homo escapeons was not very constructive.
My original goal on this Blog was to promote a naturalistic view that we are all biologically the same and that all of the stigma attached with the human inventions or add ons like race, religion and politics have kept us from advancing.

Well however Polly Anna that sounds it is the lament of many who hope for John Lennon's lyrics from Imagine to come to pass. Unfortunately we are hardwired to make millisecond appraisals of strangers with our 5F meter.

The 5Fs are those initial snap decisions;
friend?, fight?, flight?, f**k?, or forget?
Millenia of civilization cannot seem to erase this out of our genetic code as we walk down on a busy street of strangers. We love (or can't get rid of) simple instantaneous information about people so that we can label them and rsolve any further investigation. People wear disguises and costumes so that it's easier for us to label them according to their appearance. Some are genuine and some are purposefully deceptive.

Thankfully we can override our instincts, develop friendships, and train ourselves to be colour blind, compassionate and forgiving and that IS our saving grace.
Hopefully love and reason will save the day despite what you see hear and read in the daily news!!!

As a skeptic it just kills me to be that hopeful but the alternative is very DARK!

Getting back to being bright I had several concerns after I signed up. First I have no problemo allowing scientific reasoning to explain HOW, WHEN and WHERE we came from. I'm fine with Evolution, Mitochondrial Eve and everything else all the way back to the nanosecond before the Big Bang.
I also think that some of us, regretfully, are prone to embellish and mislead others about our proprietary relationships with deities in order to manipulate others for personal gain. Power is power.

Therefore the WHO and WHY we are here poses the great question and just because or infinity isn't much to go on so I honestly believe that it is simply impossible, with these brains anyway, to understand the entire picture, hence the sign on my door AGNOSTIC.

The second concern and the real fly in the ointment is that I adore all of the mystical serenity and artsy introspective individuals and their respective Blogs that I have discovered out here. Our creative side is quite restricted without the ethereal license of the imagination. I consider the world of myth, magic, symbolism and cosmic flow to be essentialin order to soar high above the human/manimal condition.

Creative license is the cool part of having evolved to this level of self awareness..cogito ergo sum et al.

So I'm stuck in the middle somewhere even though I am satisfied with naturalistic reasoning I love it when it is explored, expressed and enveloped in mystical terms be it christian, buddhist, new age or whatever.

Maybe I'm just not that bright?

Worldviews aren't very easily gift wrapped and tied up with a bow.
We homo escapeons are fairly lazy and like to have everything about our world pre-packaged so that we can switch on the 5F meter, walk out the door, and get on with our daily survival duties.

HO MY GADD!

Glam Rocker In'Nam Slammer

Yesterday's post on the child molester who evaded serving time in a Nebraskan prison because he was too SHORT reminded me of this child molester from a few months back. All that glitters is not gold.

Paul Francis Gadd aka GARY GLITTER (Rock and Roll Part 2) was sentenced to 3 years in prison for apparently 'teaching English' (his version of events) to the private parts of Vietnamese girls.

Pictured here on the right, Glitter's desperate court room tactics included, in what can only be described as the shrewdest of career moves, an obvious make-over attempt to resemble
the Vietnamese Revolutionary Hero
HO CHI MINH...........DHO!.
(Rock and Roll RRRock!...Rock and Roll..)
Hope you like DDDuck!..with your egg roll...

DICK GETS DICK!
Cheyenne County Court,
Nebraska,USA

Richard Thompson (5'1"), I'll call him DICK, although I 've never figured out how you get dick from richard or bob from robert, was sentenced to 10 years probation because Judge Kristine Cecava (?' ?") felt that he was too short to safely serve a prison term! The Judge felt that this DICK would face dangers in prison because of his height?????

DICK was convicted for sexually assaulting a 12 year old girl.

Oh but don't worry,
DICK will be electronically monitored for the entire first 4 months of his probation! (oooh that's harsh) and
DICK can't date or live with a woman with children under 18 (lucky gal)
and
DICK can't be alone with anyone under the age of 18 (oh whew!).

Joe Mangano (5'4") of NOSSA,
the National Organization of Short Statured Adults (just rolls off the tip of the tongue don't it) said that
"it's good to see somebody looking out for someone who is a short person."

The decision, that baffled even the ACLU, is being appealed.

I don't know where to start...the betrayal of theVICTIM...and the next child on his list...the sheer lunacy of the sentence..the 99% recidivism of child molesters.....the pretzel logic concerning heightism....Political Correctness ......the abscence of common sense...the inequality of the sexes.....just exactly how LOW can society go???????

Prison is the only place where Predators, like DICK,
actually get what they deserve..

but this DICK got DICK!

THE PENIS OR THE EGG ?

The Emu attack on our tour guide witnessed by my son and his classmates the other day on a field trip sparked a dream about dinosaurs last night. Just before the incident, our guide was in the process of explaining that Emus (all birds) are the direct descendents of the Dinosaurs. Then the world's second largest bird made her move.

With a hiss the female Emu lunged her long neck over a chickenwire barrier and sent the can of goodies flying into the air. EEEK the children, parents, and tour guide screamed.

Dismissing the event and trying to restore his credibility, the young teenaged host bent over to retrieve the now emptied can . Hissss BANG!
Siezing the opportunity, the Emu leapt and lunged a huge clawed dino leg at the fence in an attempt to disembowel the lad who was obviously too frickin' close to the fence! HELLO!

The Emu was only inches away from the top of the fence before the force of her kick sent her reeling backwards over the water trough and onto her fellow inmates in the pen. All hell broke loose when she landed beside the rooster, chickens, ducks and geese that were minding their own business at the watering station.

I remember thinking that I would dive on top of my son to protect him and hope that the Emu would be satisfied with killing the guide. Hopefully the kill would give the rest of us the opportunity to slowly back away as the Emu ripped the lad from limb to limb and devoured him in an orgy of blood and entrails.

Dinosaur descendent my ass, that Emu is as dangerous as a bloody Velociraptor! It was quite a spectacle and only the miracle of the four minute attention spans on the four year olds enabled the screams to evaporate into nervous laughter and finally disinterest within ..you guessed it..about four minutes.

Anyway, last night in my dream, Clint Eastwood asked me (who knows?) which came first the chicken or the egg. "I'm glad you asked me that Clint Eastwood," I replied.

"You see Clint, the Calcium Carbonate shelled egg is a miracle of evolution. Water tight but permeable enough to allow oxygen in and carbon dioxide out, it allowed the reptiles to conquer the land some 300 million years ago.

Mother Nature finally had to invent the first penis for the reptiles for fertilising the egg because it forms the shell inside the female. This left the penisless amphibians in the evolutionary dust, because they had to get it on 'dry humping' on top of the female in the water. This reproductive advantage gave rise to all of us la-di-da land lubbin' vertebrates.

It may also shed some light on why 300 million years later certain bipedal creatures with penises, male homo escapeons, still seem so reptilian at times. Eerily mirroring the evolutionary timetable, we modern penis centered bipeds begin our reproductive journey by 'dry humping' things like amphibians do. The various objects of our attention can best be described as basically anything that doesn't run away. Eventually we progress to the next level of gettin' busy, our reptilian stage, which ain't much prettier.
Isn't that fascinating."


I'm not sure, because I woke up before Clint had the chance to respond, but I think that I made his day.

MR PERPETRATOR HEAD

Is it my imagination or is there an unmistakable interchangeability about the propagandized faces of evil? Spin Doctors definitely prefer facial hair on our villains. These guys are right out of Central Casting aren't they? You can just add features to the faces, like kids do with Mr Potato Head.

Don't ever forget that these men were(are) supported by millions of people at one time or another. Many of these supporters acted out of fear and at gunpoint, some of their own volition.

What does this say about our perceived free will? Are our lives entirely dictated by our geography and the reigning zeitgeist of day? Is our fate sealed by Time and Chance?

"The evil of the world is made possible by nothing but the sanction you give it." Ayn Rand

Good to know.

WE'RE ON THE MOOOOVE!

This morning Sir Ridley and I, along with his classmates from Nursery School, are off on a field trip.

Today these dazzling urbanites are to experience firsthand the unbridled ecstasy of farm living.
This is my fourth child and possibly the final sojourn into the barnyard. I can only hope that the grey sky retains it's moisture and that Nature takes it's course once we arrive.

You see the sights and smells of the farm can only be truly appreciated when watching the faces of bewildered four year olds witnessing a wide eyed bull mounting a less than receptive cow who stares back at the children while idly chewing her cud as she begrudgingly accepts his less than amorous endeavours.

Yes only here on the farm can a slight toss of the head and a quick lick at the salt block be considered foreplay...er...maybe not?

Full report to follow...


later that day..

OMG made it back from the excursion and turned on the airconditioning. Hot, humid and stinky can best describe the event.

STAGE ONE: an outhouse break followed by a snails paced towing behind a tractor through a scrub and pasture wasteland of cow manure in a wagon laden with allergens that must be sponsored by the Canadian Chiropractic Association.

STAGE TWO: an outhouse break followed by a brief parade of a impossibly matted sheep, llama, alpaca and a goat while suffocating in a barn full of dive bombing barn swallows and terrified four year olds.

STAGE THREE: an outhouse break followed by aquick game of hide and seek in a labyrinth of straw bales in the loft made even more interesting by a different batch of kamikaze barn swallows...EEEK!

STAGE FOUR: an outhouse break followed by a horseback ride memorable only for the astonished look on the faces of the volunteer Moms as Jackson the steed confidently flexed his three foot appendage about in the warm spring air.

STAGE FOUR: an outhouse break followed by the cacaphony of 100 four year olds chomping through the sweets and desserts before tossing the healthy items into large receptacles while intermittently staring at the kid in my group who continuosly excavated her nostrils and chewed on her boogers every ten minutes UGH!

STAGE FIVE: an outhouse break followed by forced confinement in a shed completely void of Oxygen to stroke kittens, rabbits and puppies for as long as you remained conscious...gasp...must save..others.......

STAGE SIX: an outhouse break followed by a near death experience for our severely hung-over teenage tour guide as a psychotic emu attacked him as he explained that emus are the direct descendents of dinosaurs (HHHIISSSS) reminiscent of a scene from Jurrasic Park ..AAIIEEEHH!

After a brief outhouse break it was back on the bus where a savy driver sold alcoholic beverages to the parents at exhorbitant prices...and worth every cent I might add.

The DaVinci Code IS LIKE A BOX OF CHOCOLATES...

My good lady wife and I ventured off to the multiplex to see the DaVinci Code starring Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks) and that adorable, mon dieu les yeux, Amelie (Audrey Tautou).

First the good news;
Gandalf (McKellen) was fabulous and I was thrilled to watch how Opie (Director Ron Howard) brilliantly presented the power of symbols, like the swastika that the nazis stole, and the background flashbacks of historical events. The fervent madness at the Council of Nicea was my favorite scene.

However, the most disturbing part of the film was the fact that I had forgotten so much of the actual plot due to all of the accompanying controversy surrounding the book.
When you think about it the notion that Jesus and Mary had a daughter named Sarah is hardly shocking in this day and age.
But watch out, it would be pure folly to speculate upon such matters in the wrong company.

One part of the novel is absolutely true.
Any chink in the armor, any doubt whatsoever regarding the authenticity of the Bible, or any disconnect to the absolute authority of the hierarchy of the faith industry, will always be met with fierce resistence by God's Spin Doctors.
Throughout it's bloody history (pun intended) the Church has gone to hell and back in order to maintain it's power over the hearts and minds of the great unwashed.

Fortunately the Vatican officials can relax, the mirepresentation that Peter Benchley attached to Great White Sharks in Jaws will not be duplicated here on the Catholic Church by Dan Brown. These blockbusters are both purely fictional and people have very short attention spans.

Besides, I came away from the film more distressed about whether Hank's hairdo was age appropriate or not. He lost a lot of weight. That is really weird because those who know me well understand that I cherish the opportunity to debate (ad nauseum) the historical authenticity of everything from Genesii to Revelations or any other sacred texts for that matter.

Oh well, I guess that I'm just satisfied that atleast this movie gives people a chance to question what they actually know about history and religion.
Everybody believes what they want to and they always seem to get all weird about it.
I believe that most people aren't mature enough to discuss it without completely overeacting ..it's so bizarre..so personal...so irrational!
So, let sleeping dogs lie.

Sadly, I shall not enter that arena of debate, where angels fear to tread and fools rush in..not today anyway...I'm too busy trying to decide if I should grow my hair a little longer, just like Forrest er Robert Langdon.
By the way I actually liked the film (McKellen gets the Oscar nod) but I preferred the zippy novel, couldn't put it down!

I guess that the DaVinci Code phenomenon is sort of like a box of chocolates...You never know what you're going to get out of it.

HE"S LATE, HE'S LATE..
FOR A VERY IMPORTANT DATE

This is not a pretty picture.

If you look closely at this photo you will notice something other than the oxidized gas lines at my Mom's residence.
There, in a cruel twist of fate, portrude the two unluckiest rabbit feet in the world.
Having sought refuge under the deck, this rabbit managed to wedge not one, but both of it's feet between the deck boards.


Call it fate, natural selection, or just a dumb bunny, whatever you will, millions of freak accidents like this occur everyday to creatures both great and small.

Perhaps some predator from the wild was pursuing this rabbit and it panicked? Maybe it was just bad luck.
Perhaps this is a metaphor for us to ponder about our uneasy coexistence with nature?
My guess is that this rabbit probably went under the deck all of the time because there is a huge, verdant garden just around the corner.

In any event happenstance found this creature's gift, those feet that let it run for it's life, and turned them into it's Achilles Heel.

My stepfather made the gruesome discovery in the morning and was further astonished to find that aside from the rigor mortis, something(s) had already begun recycling the remains of the rabbit below the deck. eew! Repulsive but essentially 100% natural.

For the rest of us, the show is over and we will merrily hop along with our lives. Time and chance happen to all creatures great and small.
Life goes on.......

UNTITLED?

I did this about 20 years ago

but never gave it a title or enough afterthought for that matter. Could you?

or should it evolve to this #2? or this#3?OK ..I'll start you off:
I adhere to the theory of evolution..
am not a racist..
doubt that extraterrestrials have visited us..
and don't think that we'll make it to the next stage..

6 hours later...

Anyone..anyone..buhler...buhler...buhler...

OK ....well then... what about this one?

maybe this one?

or this one?

Dear Miss Ann Throappe,
final redux Apr'06
My darling how I long to embrace your untethered rejection of those tedious tribal creatures. Your general disdain for the crooked timber of humanity sends waves of pleasure deep in my synapsic regions. The way you mock their enslavement to the unfinished thoughts of others is sheer ecstasy. My dearest Miss Ann Throappe, you had me from COME ON!

Alas, my darling Ann, I fear that we shall never truly consumate our relationship. My heart belongs to the gentle whispers of Miss O. Mizm.
That nagging opti mizm will surely be my downfall!

You see, despite my attention arousal, I am truly torn between what I understand and what I think that I should understand. I fear that our relationship is doomed because I cannot fully discern the lovely truth from the lusty fact. There is, my sweet, sweet Ann, simply too much conflicting information available.

You must understand that I am tormented and deeply challenged to find meaning in this earthly life. Unfortunately my punishment for such folly is a severe pain in the arse. It is a life sentence, shackled to infinite questions that all begin with WHY! I am helplessly, nay, needlessly wasting my selective attention on the unanswerable questions in life.

My Darling Ann, if only I could form a proper schema of things. How I crave for a legible schematic of whats-all-this-then. Where oh where is that damn G-spot of Life? That sweet trigger of bliss hidden from the prying minds of the great unwashed. Alas, it awaits my caress, carefully concealed and mysteriously nestled somewhere between the sensuous curves of data and beyond the silky layers of knowledge. Aye, there is the rub!

My sweet, sweet Ann, I cannot abandon the challenge of finding a reason for suffering through this veil of tears. I nietzsche,(ouch!) but I can't have ya!

Perhaps in time, your sirenic summons will release me to mock again. Oh joy! Oh rapture!
I shall never forget the nihilistic nirvana that we once shared! Farewell.

P.S.
Please convey my warmest regards to your lovely cousins, Miss O'Ginny and Miss Ann Dree. Oh how they tease the others so with their antipathy and prejudice.

DAMNED IF YOU DO AND VICE VERSA

If I am in a crowd of holier than thou-ers I like to lure them into state of self satisfied superiority before I drop my A-Bomb of apostasy and agnosticism.

If I am in a crowd of brights and they start picking on a nice little guy or gal with the fish logo on their car (not the darwin mudskipper) then I rush to defend their right to adhere to an unprovable but satisfying point of view.

Why is religion always zero sum gain with so many people? Are we really that insecure? There is afterall usually 3 sides to every story;
your side/their side and the truth somewhere in the middle.
I honestly don't feel wishy washy being a theistic agnostic but I certainly get accused of fence sitting from both sides.

Where's the real difference between being a know-it-all and just a guy with a pretty good hunch if nobody can prove either of you to be completely wrong or right?. I go insane trying to figure out the middle way but I'll be damned if I don't stop trying.

...cogito ergo sum ..or..summa ergo cogito..
...ike-lay whatever-yay

DESIGNING DESPERATION
NEWSFLASH; MALES really are MUTANTS
redux/Feb'06

There is an excellent explanation as to why Mother Nature designs desperate females..males! The unalterable fact that all vertebrates are formed as female can mean only one thing; males really are mutants.

Homo Escapeons (modern humans) of either gender have been designed with desperate measures to counter balance each other's arsenal of weapons in the reproductive tug of war to design better offspring.

I freely admit to openly wishing for the global equality of the sexes to prevail and I am not saluting the superiority of females, (however tempting that may be) but to my way of thinking, female escapeons are the faint hope clause for the continuation of Human Life On Earth.

If females eventually reach a superior level of equality on Earth, the males will simply be forced to postpone their current mandate of killing each other off.



Have you ever noticed that the male dominated, warring, nomadic tribes of the dessert, and their inventions of Monotheism and regarding Life as a zero sum gain for one...

seems diametrically opposed to some of the Earth Mother/Goddess inventions of more fertile environments elsewhere on the planet?


For obvious reasons asexuality is an inferior method of reproduction for multicellulars like ourselves and so waiting for chance mutations was eventually pushed aside to allow for a built-in supply;
we call them Males.

That being said, it's always bewildering to look at the list of monogamous species on our planet.
A mere handful of the 4,000 different types of mammals such as Beavers make the list.
For all of the fowl admirers, an estimated 92% of birds make monogamy their reproductive nest egg.
Humans genetically speaking, their cultural pair bonding efforts aside, are naturally excluded, unless you count them as serial monogamists.

Unfortunately, we now realise that monogamy is an inferior system in reproductive terms. That's exactly why homo escapeons developed some sneaky tricks to hide up in their genes (genes).

For instance, female humans naturally disguise the 'best before date' or exact period of fertility, and this allows them to secretly gain access to other males. Not that it is very hard to fool males about anything.

The classic pre-historical example is the Neolthic female who is trapped in the chief's harem but who secretly hooks up with another dude in the clan. While she has achieved the status and security of being with the chief for raising her offspring but he just ain't ringin' her bell. That's why mother nature has provided a clever escape clause.


Our female subject, can get impregnated and create more desirable offspring with the handsome and charming other dude who is a friend with genetic benefits!

Apparently when the female reaches a climax during a clandestine sexual encounter with the other dude, the cervix can dip into the vagina to ensure a greater quantity of the dude's swimmers. Therefore if the other dude read the first edition of Cave Cosmo and gets it right, he has the best chance of actually fertilising her egg. WOOHOO!

The chief's only recourse for such mischief, not to put too fine a point on it, is to keep her over-supplied with his genetic material. Eeew!

This is all further complicated by the fact that males produce three kinds of sperm; the guards and killers to block and eliminate other sperm, (leggo my eggo)
and the lonely egg getters, lucky sperm, which actually fertilise.
Taken at face value there is a lot of genetic hanky panky built into our reproductive system.

Our species desperately needs the 'kinder-gentler' adaptive features and benefits of a universal female influence in the grand scheme of things,
such as C-O-M-M-U-N-I-C-A-T-I-N-G, on the world stage.

Not surprisingly, it is within our predominantly male oriented societies that the inhabitants rampage incessantly against each other like ants. Real meaningful progress in the modern world is and will only continue to be possible where and when the non-mutant (51%) female segment of the population exercises more than their fair share of power.

This may seem to be a shameless exhibition of self castration for the amusement of my wife, daughters,and female viewers, but you're wrong. Before you write me off as spineless dishrag sycophant, let me point out that females can be equally viscious, as in their assessment of the shoes of their own sex.

That being said, even desperate females don't design wars just because somebody else has better shoes.
OK bad example but you know what I mean. Females have more equity in rearing their offspring because they are allotted a finite number of eggs to develop every year..
while men on the other hand are designed with millions and millions of genetic packets that they can broadcast for over 6 decades.

You Are Sunrise

You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be. *they forgot to add.. And the morning wood, is the hardest to chop!

What Time Of Day Are You?

http://www.blogthings.com/whattimeofdayareyouquiz/

OMG!
My daughter Mishee Mish saw LUKE WILSON having lunch today. He is in Whateverpeg shooting another romcom no doubt.
I didn't make a big enough to-do about it so here I go..
NO WAY!
SHUT-UP!
OH MY GAWD HE IS SOOO CUTE!

VITRIOLICS ANONYMOUS
Thank you Jerry frickin' Springer, Fear Factor and possibly That's So Raven, for lowering the pop culture bar so far down that it has passed through hell (which actually is at the center of the Earth) and is now well into Chinese soil! The direct effects of exposing the sheer hopelessness of being trapped on the lowest rung of the social ladder in an age of ubernarccissim and pseudolebrity has been cathartic for those watching in horror.

The mad scientists who discovered and presented the disturbing subspecies of Homo Escapeons;Springervolk man, have killed morning TV once and for all. These culture vultures, having picked clean what was left of the rotting carcass that was Daytime Americana, have inadvertently driven everyone with an IQ near or above room temperature, off of the idiot box (TV) and on to the Internet (or out for a walk?).

Seriously, this is ground zero for entertainment! Is it even possible to watch those bad actors, employed as down&outters by the Jerry Springer Show,...
A. waste all 15 Warholian minutes of their pseudofame by exposing sorry, weather beaten breasts that only light sensitive inmates released from months of solitary confinement would gawk at...or
B. portray trailor trash He-males engaging in fisticuffs and chair fights over a wayward toothless half ton Ho... or
C. add nuance upon nuance in their faux homosexual act as they cat scratch the bejezus out of each other (you bitch!)and mock each other's taste in footwear...

and all of the above at 8 o'clock in the mornin'! Those aren't real people are they? It would be pure folly, moot point really, to even discuss such televisual feasts such as Fear Factor or possibly That's So Raven, after having those images of Springervolk still loitering in your headspace...

Anyway,now people can turn off the tube, sit down with a cup of Joe, and start Bloggin and usin' their Noggin'. Ordinary human beings are free to expose, ridicule, cajole, exchange and celebrate ideas, ideals, dreams and ideologies in a self administered polite forum of cyber conversation.

Fran Leibowitz astutely pointed out that "the opposite of talking is not listening..it's waiting!" Unlike other forms of media, here in Blogville you cannot be interrupted or get a chair flung at you..thank goodness. You are forced to actually pay attention (atleast take a reasonable guess) as to what the others person is saying. You also have the opportunity to digest and evaluate the content before you shoot from the lip. You can even do a little research or even... gulp....change your mind about something (WHAT) before you launch your vitriolic scud-like response to defend your hubris.

Then again, you are free to launch at will, but you do so at your own risk. Be warned that you may suffer the stigma of being completely scorched (not pretty) in the after party atomosphere of the comment section. So do your homework! If you are a complete nuisance and a tedious idiot you will be dismissed, deleted and shunned by the host of the post.

Speaking of vitriol and hubris, this humble, open minded newbie can state without fear of contradiction, that he is delighted to have stumbled upon this venue to help others, just like you, combat vitriol and hubris. Besides, there's always the real world to fall back on if you get bored or deleted or shunned.

Let's face it, Homo escapeons(modern man) have two small ears, two little eyes and one huge mouth. The proper 2:1 operating ratio of those orifices requires no explanation.

Reductio ad ab_______surdumb!
My______ Postings are tedi_____us
because they are too____long!

Verbiage; the use of more ______words than are_____needed
Brevity; conciseness of _______speech or ______writing
Commensal; a relation between orga_____nisms in which one de____rives benefits without ____ harming or bene____fitting the others______marginal curiousity
Essential; some____thing that one cannot ____do without

In____fact even this_____post took too _____long to_____read.
Well ex____cuse me! _____! that's all I _____have to_____say.....

there my infan_____tile K_____vetching is now com_____pleted....
the point well ______taken.....

UNCLE SAM or GRANDMA ELIZABETH?
This post concludes this weeks exploration of our Canadian Identity Crisis. I have established that our Bi-Polarism (Brit/Yank) is still holding us Canucks back from really coming into our own. I have conceeded that the Aussies, with half the population, are miles ahead of us in the Brand department thanks to their geographic isolation. We're stuck with a few things, number one is the proximity to the USofA. During the last Century the American Empire ascended to the throne at the expense of the British Empire. We are a young country but it's been a bit of an extended childhood. So why the arrested development?

Metaphorically, Canada is like an orphaned family of young adults.

"We were like born in England but moved over here after our parents died to live with our rich uncle who is a handsome American businessman . We like totally love living here and I would personally love to stay in University for like ever and ever. My friends and I can like speak to each other en Francais sometimes which is awesome. We are like totally into living in a wealthy, modern, suburban, like lifestyle. HELLO! We could have like moved back to live with our grandmother in England, which would be like so cool, but why give up the pool, cars, and our American uncle like totally gives us like miles of rope to pretty much do as we please, like seriously. The weird part is that we like don't abuse our freedom as much as we could and that's like totally freakin' cool."

"Like a lot of young people these days we're extremely well educated but like not quite sure what we like totally want to do or like who we are. We probably should have moved out a few years ago but we're like sooo laid back, seriously. We are like very mature for our age and very responsible and people aound the world seem to like us and that is like way cool. People in other countries are always like totally surprised that we're so polite and courteous. They expect us to be like totally spoiled f*ckin brats, like seriously because our uncle and our grandmother are like so totally rich. They like totally forget that our British manners like seriously balances out our American spirit. I guess I like sound more American but not really....it's like totally weird but I actually like pronounce things inbetween the like two different styles of English. Whatev!"

"Oh yeah.. people from like other countries think we're like Mounties or like only into Hockey that is so DUH! We Rock! We like have a British Parliament but we like really only have sort of two partys that are just like the American Democrats and Republicans and oh yeah I forgot we have a party from like Quebec that wants to have like it's own freakin' country but like still use our money! That like totally freaks out everybody aaahhh..and we like have the Queen of England on our money but its value is like totally connected to like the American Dollar. But it's like way cooler 'cause we like have all sorts of like cool colours and pictures on our money and like the Americans have like this totally boring money..seriously! We listen to American music and like totally watch American movies and TV but we have like Trailor Park Boys on TV and like really cool Canadian bands of our own..like the Guess Who and Neil Young were totally from Whateverpeg...no seriously dude...and like Bryan Adams, Bare Naked Ladies, Tragically Hip, Frozen Ghost, Michel Pagliaro..actually those were like bands that my dad's generation used to listen to...but we like totally have our own cool music scene in Canada.....OK I actually don't really listen to much music 'cause I'm like totally into Games!"

please cue the narrator;
You see their Grandmother, Britain, is lovely, well mannered and well intentioned but she lives a little too far away. She has their best interests at heart but she's a little old fashioned and has some notions that would cramp their style. She lives in a crowded, older, neighbourhood and the kids are use to wide open spaces of uberburbia now. They love her dearly and visit her during the holidays, but they're not her little grandchildren anymore.

Their Uncle, the US, is handsome, rich, and powerful, a little too conceited and has a bizarre fascination with guns and automobiles. They have a close, convenient relationship but it's not quite the same as having the parents that they grew up with. However he is still a very cool guy and they get a huge allowance and the kids can pretty much do whatever they want. There is one problem though, the uncle has a new girlfriend, Mexico, and it's starting to get serious. The writing is on the wall and hopefully the kids will finish their degrees before she moves in with all of her kids. I'm sure that their new blended family will be OK. Mexico's children are all still young and the older kids will be moving out soon, so it's not really a competition.

They (Canadians, remember) should do well because they've like had every advantage in life and still maitained a modicum of humility about their wealthy background. We'll see....whatev.

OH CANADASTAN,
THEY STAND ON GUARD FOR YOU!

I need to clarify my personal position on living next door to the USofA so that the Canadian Secret Intelligence Service (CSIS) can modify my dossier and ensure that my passport is not shredded.

My genetic composition is a unique blend of Belgian, Prussian and Swedish ovum and spermatozoa. Three quarters of my DNA, the (50%) Belgian Coppens /1930s and (25%) Prussian Fast /1880s families moved directly to Humanitoba. The other 25%, the Swedish Simonsons, farmed in Minnesota and North Dakota before migrating into relative obscurity way the hell up here in 1926. My Grandparents (Simonson) eventually forayed back and forth into the States for many years on custom combining expeditions and one of my uncles actually moved to Texas. My Mom is a snowbird who migrates annually to the warm Southern States every winter.

For many Whateverpeggers there is a time honored tradition of hopping across the US border to shop in Grand Forks, North Dakota, to take advantage of the American 'economy of scale' pricing on shoes and whatnots. As a matter of fact I did exactly that a couple of months ago.

It's easy for armchair philosophers and uninformed protesters in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Canadastan, Iraqistan or any other stan country to dump all Americans into some huge vat and taint them all as selfish reckless imperialist Bush luvin' warmongers.

However living 1 hour away from the US border offers a clearer insight into the American psyche. I find these half-truths to be self evident...The USA is the third most populated country in the world and it is comprised of millions of unique individuals whose opinions concerning other countries are as varied as they are seemingly uninformed. This troubling gross generalisation would be almost laughable were it not for their unique ability to vaporise the planet in a last ditch attempt to prohibit China from emerging as the next World Empire. That's ridiculous.

That being said, as far as other Americans are concerned, North Dakota might as well be in Sweden. The thought that humans, even American humans, can inhabit and keep their genitals warm enough to reproduce that close to the tree line is bewildering to Californians and Floridians. What really put North Dakota on the map wasn't the glacial reproductive rates of frozen farmers, no it was the Nuclear Missile silos. That's right NUKES, right on our doorstep.

These Cold War relics (ICBMs/ 1 firestorm away from my house) were ready to give the Ruskies a decent asskickin' due to the tactical proximity of NoDak to the now defunct USS-CZAR. During the 70's, when one bothered to discuss such matters, my schoolfriends and I generally agreed that if WW3 ever did get goin' we'd be goners so Carpe Diem Woo Hoo!

The prevelent scenario was that the Ruskies would certainly nuke Grand Forks back to the stone age and all of us here in Whateverpeg would either be incinerated or mutate into George Romero Zombies stumbling about the frozen rubble looking for three headed rats to gnaw on.

Since Mr. Gorbachov tore down that wall that scenario is now highly unlikely. In the post 911 world (nine one one what is YOUR emergency?) living way the hell up here is arguably the safest place to be. We Canadastanis understand and appreciate the significance of being protected by the American Armed Forces (by osmosis) because most of us live within 100 miles of the US border. So we have a weird relationship that we struggle with from time to time. Our similarities vastly outnumber our differences and as the world becomes a more unstable violent place (nine one one what is YOUR emergency?) I am quite certain that we will one day become more than kissing cousins.

Now if you will excuse me for one second.....
To the incredibly handsome/beautiful bureaucratic lifestyle snoop in charge of my CSIS dossier I would like to emphatically proclaim my allegiance and unwavering support to the Queen or no the Flag and the Constitution ..no I mean the Queen, no the Constitution..DOH!

Believe it or not we actually have Air-Conditioning here to survive our HOT Summers but today...sigh... it is snowing outside.

JOLLY GOOD SHOW!

In the summer of 1977, during an overnight in London whilst on tour of Europe, my sister and I escaped the prying eyes of the rents and spent a hazy night in some cavernous dance hall near Picadilly Circus. I think?

My predetermined idea of England was filled to the brim with a hodgepodge of contradictory images courtesy of; the outrageous antics of Monty Python and the exquisite benchmark reporting of the BBC, and the Kinks fantastic Schoolboys in Disgrace album and the heartbreaking Browning Version. England, to me, was indeed a juxtaposition wrapped in an enigma. On the streets of London the Punker Spikes were as prevelent as Bowlers and Turbans. I was right.

Like our cousins in Australia, Canadians were tremendously advantaged to have been influenced by the British and not just the American Entertainment juggernaut. Maybe that's why Mike Myers is currently the most successful/funniest guy in the film world. Actually many of Hollywood's better comedic performers and directors are Canucks, probably because we (presumptuous!) have a more balanced assortment of humour to digest. The potty type of humour (swear & curse about lavatorial & reproductive functions) that is exported by the USofA fails miserably when measured against the highbrow larfs of the Brits.

I must add that thanks to their geographic isolation the Aussies have done a much better job of forging a unique national identity. We Canucks are geographically joined at the hip with the Yanks and it's utterly impossible to ignore sleeping next to an elephant.

Today I fear that my children's world has been completely overwhelmed by the vapid American Entertainment Industry and that really is a shame. EnterPAINment Tonight..AARGH!!! During my formative years I regarded the work of British Comedians as self effacing highbrow humour (oh sure I haven't forgotten the Carry Ons) as opposed to the Yanks who, with few exceptions, Newhart, Carlin, Brooks, Allen, enjoyed more pedestrian, lowbrow yuks.

Perhaps for the Yanks, this is a rebellion against their Puritan undercurrent. I suppose that the Americans Cultural war is a shade more rustic and homespun in nature while the Class Warfare of the Brits is more available to ridicule. Clearly both resent the oppressive religious & cultural intolerance of both the great hypocratic institutions Puritanism and Victorian prudery.

Brit example..."For all of those fine young men who died to keep China British." a meaning of life Cleesian Classic.
Yank example..Foxworthy's "You might be a redneck if.." See the dif?

No, you're right, they both have the upscale and lowbrow. Woody Allen's intellectual, neurotic, urban, Jewish angst and Jeff Foxworthy's shucks y'all jibberish...I should have thought this through before I started this stream of consciousness blather. OK you're right. I know what I'm trying to say, I have been more impressed and influenced by the Brits in the HaHa department due to our Commonwealth connections.

Off on a tangent alert! OK wrap this up fast......
Before I return to my story I should mention that probably 60% of my music library is Brit and another 20% is Aussie. This Commonwealth phenomenon continues for obvious reasons I suppose. That being said I simply find music from the Motherland and Down Under easier to relate to, and vastly more intelligent and creative than the current HipHopGangsterHoCrap that rules the US. C'est moi.

Anyway back in where ever we were, Sis and I were overwhelmed by the outrageous liberties taken by the hundreds of patrons at the dance hall. Aside from the free flowing gigantic pitchers of ale the music was awesome. Dig this...a daring DJ set of oldies and newies blasted it's way inbetween one cool band that performed a wild, eccentric rock show and then the stage would revolve to reveal a different band that played an equally intriguing collection of covers and original material. Far Out!

It was almost interesting enough to avoid staring at the several couples throughout the establishment draped over and under their tables in various stages of flagrante delecto! I kid you not! The most amazing thing to me was that the others at those tables were content to gaze at the performers on stage! HUH! Back in the Victorian pubs of Whateverpeg such events were verboten. Incredible as it seems I too eventually began to ignore the lusty sideshow and thanks to the miracle of alcohol I really got into the music. Bier Macht Frei!

I finally went and danced by myself, which upon inspection wasn't considered bizarre, (cue Billy Idol) and within an hour I was tripping the light fantastic with several groovy birds for the rest of the evening. After closing the place down at some incomprehensible hour Sis and I hopped in a car with some Oriental Gentlemen posing as cabbies. Upon arriving at the Hotel I threw some change at them (much to their chagrin) and crawled into bed.

I say..Jolly Good Show!

POPE and CIRCUMSTANCE
Today I'm sprinting into a place where angels fear to tread and (obviously) fools rush in. I am excited about The Da Vinci Code hitting the big screen next month. I loved the book because the short chapters and brisk pacing were perfect for someone like me who is blessed with the attention span of a gnat.

I have concerns about Forrest Gump playing the lead but I have to trust Opie's judgement on this one. What I really want to see are the historical re-enactments visually presented for my viewing pleasure. Cool! However all of the hub-bub about the Holy Roman Catholic Church Universal and it's plans to douse the party with holy water has my shorts in a knot.

Maybe it's just me but the Vaticanistas should just lighten up a little. The more controversy they raise about the film the more free publicity (no bad publicity in Hollywood & remember The Last Temptation?) they give them will automatically increase ticket sales. I'm not sure that the Vaticanistas have any idea of how little most homo escapeons (OK 5/6ths of the world) care about what they think about anything. Now I should preface this by stating for the record that my paternal grandparents represented the very best in human beings and they were old world Catholics. They were kind, generous and absolutely adorable.

As a small Protestant Anglo child living in a predominantly French Catholic town I can honestly say the Catholicism looked more palatable. Hey weekly absolution, few restrictions on the lifestyle side, ornate churches and costumes, C'Mon! My little clapboard Lutheran church on the bald Prairie stood forlorn and naked against the barren landscape. The pseudo Gothic Catholic Cathedral next door to my Grandparents house in town looked like Versaille or Notre Dame in comparison. It also seemed to me that the two congregations matched their churches.

The easy going Catholics revelled in their freedom to smoke and drink and let a few F sharps fly every now and then. Perhaps the biggest eye opener was the weekly card game with the Priest (who also lived next door) at my Catholic Grandparents house. He could smoke and drink and tell jokes just like a regular human being? He didn't have a wife so he could play cards whenever he wanted to. My shame bombing Lutheran Pastor may have had the Reformation on his side but all I understood was that, even though I was only 6 years old, I was a real SOB and pretty much guaranteed to burn in Hell for all of Eternity if I didn't live like a Puritan!! On the decor side the Catholics had their masterpiece renditions of Christ as a chubby little baby in his Mama's arms or suffering on the cross (always with the cross) and the Protestants had the pasty, white dude (probably British) carrying a lamb in his arms, who for some reason looked like a Hippy? Hey Man, it was the 60s!

One of my favorite memories of being the token Protestant at Ecole Fannystelle was that I was recused from Catechism studies in the morning and was allowed to quietly (secretly) read the comic books that I hid in my text books. Sweet! While the other kids cowered as Mother Superior (great title on a business card) swooped down the halls looking like Darth Vader with her pitch, black cape flowing behind her, I just smiled and said hello. She didn't have a light sabre, but her pointer was always in plain view, ready to correct the tiny, sensitive hands or threadbare butt of any misbehaving child with blinding speed and incredible precision. Except for moi of course. Whether it was in the Geneva Convention or not I do not know, but for whatever reason I had diplomatic immunity somehow. That and the fact that I was concerned that under the right circumstances my diplomatic immunity could be rescinded by the Vatican. Hey, what 6 year old isn't completely terrified of le frap dans le mains et sur le ass OUCH!
Maybe I instinctively kept my nose clean.

So much for my dissection of the Papist Worldview (Perpetual Virginity etc.)
I guess that now I realise how fascinating and easy Catholicism was from the outside ie. sugarcoated of course. As I slogged through the Lutheran confirmation years I daydreamed about the ease of my prereformationist friends; no digging and memorizing through chapter and verse from Genesii to Revelations, no theological dogmatics on fallen angels in the garden handing out apples. Nope. It was simply listen to your Mama (just like Jesus does) and Papa (the one in the Parish) on why you should vote Liberal in the next Election. But the best part was all of the Pope and Circumstance, you know, the costumes, statues, incense and candles WOW! Versaille/Notre Dame 8.5..Little Church On The Prairie 6.5.

PS. I will never, ever forget how all of the Nuns wept throughout the entire day back in '63 when John Kennedy was assassinated. I can still picture that day as if it were yesterday.