Guinea Piggery

I see with relief, that down south, a killer whale collection program by an entertainment company that puts on shows for money, is quitting the gathering (?) of that creature. They used to do it, they say, in the name of studying the animal. "For science" they said. Science? That's like a scientific study of the egg using an omelet as the model. Those of us who have been fortunate to see the real killer whale, Orca, in the wild, amongst its pod, know that a blueish pool with cute trainers microphoning the next whale trick by Oggy or Iggy, before an applauding audience, are not amused and certainly amazed that such goings-on ever began. This company retains another large number of whales that they will continue to use for entertainment until the poor slaves, die on the job. What is so astounding is that people who know better, take their children to such cruel nonsense and make it look like fun. It's not fun, it is the opposite. I am not a bleeding heart vegan but I do love truth and common sense. Zoos and animal shows are nothing but primitive insensitivity to the very animals we are supposed to be protecting. They are nothing but bigotry and greed. It's bad enough that we breed dogs and cats into specimens that contain genetically horrific problems merely for our comfort and amusement: show gigs and and pricey spoiled companions for the rich and unthinking. Birds, even wild ones, fall into this category, too. I can see the placement of cameras into the woods and forests to observe the habits of wild creatures but when, for the sake of "science", animals are caught and surgically inserted with various electronic devices, goes too far. This is science that is un-science. First, the creature is subjected to having its body and environment invaded by those whose brains should tell them this is no way to study anything. It is not natural to shock and expose lives of unwitting and unwilling animals for so-called studies. The second you interfere with your presence and equipment, the natural events in this small innocent creature's life, negate what you set out to do. The study is no longer "natural". It is akin to allowing a space alien to insert a study device in you after frightening you half to death, and thinking that it is okay because you just have to carry on and everything is fine. I don't think so. Bears and lions and all sorts of other animals including very small ones such as birds and even butterflies, believe it or not, are going about with junk on them for the sake of "science". What kind of science is that? The first word that comes to me is "lazy". Get out and Goodall if you must. Go and sit and watch and study, but stay out of sight and for goodness sake, let's leave nature as it is for as long as it can survive us, our tourism, breeding foibles and "science"!

Diamonds Are A GBF

Back In The Day, when you got a ring from your man, it meant something other than finally, after co-habiting for three years to afford it, the wedding and the diamond. That tiny "rock" once meant
romance and promise. It announced to all of your friends and relatives that you and your boyfriend were "getting married and setting up home and family". Shouts of joy resounded and speculations ensued. Where were you going to live, when would you perhaps have children (if one wasn't already on the way) and where were you going for your honeymoon? It's just not the same these days and no judgments, please. The diamond's size or style was not in question. You likely spent the money previously to pay for the education to get the job where you would spend the rest of your working years until retirement rolled around. No one stressed about how big the diamond was. Seems that these days, size is what matters. Big everything: education, appearance, house, car, furniture, jewelry, holidays, wardrobes and certainly, egos. The bigger and more expensive, the more oohs and ahhs of the surrounding populace. And does it all end bigger and better? Afraid not! There is more crime, divorce and poverty than ever. What some see on the big and small screens is desired and sought after without regard for morality.  Diamonds don't matter much, nor do many of the values that we once cared about and are now material for stand-up comedy. But all is not lost. While there are big weddings, they have become celebrations of the promise to stick with the partner of your choice: someone you can walk beside into a life that presents huge challenges. The diamond is an investment in that future and perhaps if necessary, it could be the difference between putting food on the table or not, while in the meantime, you look at it and feel rich even if you aren't. All we can do is look at that ancient sparkle and hold on to the hope that, in this time, we can make it a better, brighter world.

Words Worth

Philosophy is a heady matter and recently being in a group of highly intelligent, well-educated and widely experienced people, I found my mundane mind somewhat overwhelmed. But it was also stimulated along with overjoy-ment to be listening to something it had to reach for and strain to understand. What else is a lonely, hungry mind for? We follow a book by an author who spends his life writing and exploring his subject. It is deep and difficult. It categorizes all that Man has been and is and could be. It goes where I have never been and it astounds me. At times it humbles me to wonder what I am doing in such a pool of academics. But when I get a grip on those negative thoughts, I know that this stretching of the mind, without having to believe everything I am learning about, is okay. It's like the pain in your side when you run too far and too fast but are hyped by the  pheromones that tell you it was a good thing for you. The folk sitting about the circle of those listening to a kindly and patient and very sincere professor who gains not a cent from what he is doing other than the satisfaction of presenting to his followers what he believes in so strongly, and hoping it makes our lives as rich as his, intellectually. There were times when I feel drowned in the terminology and science and spiritualism of it all, but like pretty poison, I can't stop partaking. Yes, among the experienced people in the mixture, there are certainly those who are in love with their grasp of the subject and make to enlighten the rest, but there are also those of us, who don't swallow the entire lecture in one gulp, but rather,  nibble around the edges to find something to take away that will lend benefit to our own lives. I suppose that's what being educated really is. It's not spouting the memorization of the creations of others, but absorbing them, without words having to be strewn, to fit our every-day personal needs. And as all education, it doesn't end after institution learning, it continues, and this is simply another opportunity to jump on that continuum.

Just A Smile

Where I live, there is a beautiful woman who has never smiled. At least not that I have seen. She has a delightful husband who makes everyone smile, therefore, I entertained the thought that perhaps he used up all the smiles in the family and there were none left for her. Or perhaps she has had a terrible tragedy and lost the need to smile. It is a mystery to me. Smiling is so very easy and accessible. It speaks no language. Everyone can understand what it says. I have been warned to watch out for creatures who smile only to hide dangerous thoughts behind the smile. I shudder at this and then I remember the polar bear and the crocodile. People with bad intentions do sometimes smile but most of us can see beyond those sorts of smiles. We have clues in the words that go with them or the actions. We know the sales pitch and the false  expressions that are pasted on those folks. But we tolerate the smiles of the advantage-takers and those with Junoesque personalities. We know that the latter have a smile on one side of their face and a sneer on the other. We think perhaps our smiles will outshine the advantage-takers and in some way change them? Ah, and then perhaps not. But smilers don't stop their shining work. There are so many good things to enjoy. It's known that even those incarcerated for years in miserable conditions, never give up hope but find something, perhaps only deep in their minds, that saves them. Perhaps it is what lies outside in the sky or fields or forest or the smallest of creatures that are usually ignored by those who are free. The woman of whom I speak is well-off, she has everything anyone could possibly want but she never smiles. Perhaps she is not unhappy. Perhaps she has simply forgotten how to smile through disuse of that ability. Smiling is so easy and it also feels good especially when you receive a smile back. I don't mean going about with a fool's grin all the time but merely to find something that is easy to smile at. It's in the looking that there is great benefit. Sure, there are horrific news reports to mull over and bills and miseries in the world abroad but no matter how bad, there must be something to smile about. The search is worth the effort. Out walking to the post box the other day, I passed a sign someone had ripped down, one that told there would be yet another development coming to the street. Down would come the trees forever but today, today beneath those trees, there were the most delightful tiny plants emerging in Spring bloom. Most were little more than a quarter of an inch in diameter but there they were, never giving up: blues and purples and white tiny blossoms amongst the greenest of humble greens. No one planted them; they simply grew because that's all they knew. Their innocent promise, made me smile.

Fur, A Good Reason?

On line browsing can be interesting and recently, there was a series of mag cover photos showing naked famous people protesting NYC horse carriages. I agree, certainly, that there is no place for horses on a city street. While they may be cute conveyances to some, the very idea of carriage clip clopping down a street with smelly cars plying by, just is not romantic even when engagements are ensuing or you're heading to a wedding. These carriages belong in a park where cars don't go so that those inside this kind of vehicle, can enjoy a leafy place at a slow pace. The magazine also berated those who wear fur by showing pictures of torsos dressed in "ink" or tattoos rather than pelts. "Ink, not mink". The mags did get the message across: to stop the ridiculous killing of wild animals for the cruel pleasure of those who insist upon that kind of warped display in their attire. Furs these days are better synthetic than the actual. Of course, it isn't the real thing but it's the better thing. It's abhorrent to me, to think of someone setting a vicious trap to kill a living creature that is innocently going about doing the only thing it knows: survival and procreation. Is that what human intelligence has come to? Paying to don oneself in cruelty? Human skin lampshades, one of the horrific wartime souvenirs, was considered outrageous, but isn't there a similarity in wearing furs for fun. Trapping animals is no longer necessary, nor should it be. It seems to me that anyone who kills fellow inhabitants of this earth other than for sustenance not obtainable in any other way, is not thinking well. We speak out one side of our mouths that we want to protect every living thing that inhabits the earth, and then put on a mink coat. Sorry, but I don't see even mink farms as true agriculture just as I dislike buffalo or deer meat farms.  And please don't try the "do you kill mosquitoes?" approach. First of all, mosquito wrigglers do provide a basic diet for ducklings and other birds and second of all, there are substances that repel those pests rather than the horrific electric zapper things that no one with a sense of logic would responsibly use. Left alone to do their thing, nature usually finds a balance in time. The argument about human consumption of chicken, beef, pork and other kinds of farming is questionable depending upon how the animals are treated during production. Respect of earthly gifts for our survival is a matter of appreciation and I laud the aborigines who of long-standing, took only what was needed and were grateful for it and ceremoniously showed it. Wild animals, on the other hand, don't enjoy today, the same privilege apparently. Strange people still take guns out into the woods and call hunting "fun". We continue to fight also  pathetic folk who pay because they think, for some backward reason, that certain animal parts improve their lacking or flagging reproductive facilities. There continues to be mega meat producers in the world who treat the killing of animals in their factories in the most pitiless way. Let us not forget that other living creatures have the equal right to dwell here just as we do.

Dying

Dying is hard to do and too many people I love are doing or did, just that. It's hard to watch, too, from any angle. And even though it's going to happen to everyone, it isn't a subject we like to think about or deal with but it does enter our minds often. Someone I loved, a dear, dear close friend I knew since youth,  just died. Yes, he died; he didn't pass or fade away, or go somewhere that I know of, he simply died. But what does that mean? It's not a kind word, "die". It means that someone or something is no more. It was a life that came to its end. Most lives come to an end in old age and of a disease or trauma, and for some reason we are supposed to accept that as being natural and in a way, okay. It doesn't feel "okay" ever; it feels awful. It hurts and makes us empty and sad and grieving just as much as when someone at a younger age, dies. There are no rules in death. There are those who make a rationale for  grief. "oh well, he was --- age and it was timely" or  "she's out of her misery now" or " we all expected it" or "well, you have all those good memories to go on" and many other placatory remarks. No, dear people. It doesn't work that way. Death of a loved one, hurts badly. Death causes wounds that don't disappear quickly. It leaves scars and for most people, the scars don't go away even though death's sting eases somewhat in time. And it goes without saying,  nor should ever be said to the grieving, move on. Move on? We have to. Time drags us on, thank you very much and if I have to move on, I will do it my way, not because you tell me to "move on". I recall a dear friend of mine whose husband died and she wore his sweaters to the griever's sessions. A well-meaning person who was also insensitive, told her it wasn't right that she wore her husband's sweaters and that she should "move on". She was horrified and damaged by that remark, innocently said, I presume. She needed to grieve her way and the sweater she snuggled into, offered her that comfort. We are all different as the saying goes, but for some reason it is not always remembered. Death is a certainty and it is hugely complex for those doing it and those standing by. Rules are made up as we go along. Those who are not directly affected have a hard time with it, too. They don't know what to say or do because there are no rules to follow. I guess the most useful advice is simply to do what feels best and take your chances.