Note: This blog entry is more a miniature essay than a blog entry. If you want to skip the pessimism and get right to the optimism, click here.
Once more, around to me on the natural wheel comes the realization that the human conceptual system is deeply metaphorical. From early human to surviving human, evolving to aging, life makes more sense the more we think about how simple it is. On my recent drive from FL to PA, I entered a deep state of highway thought somewhere in the Carolinas. In a numb state of one-directional travel, I realized I wasn’t following the road and ignoring the trees so much as the road was leading me on to distract me from the trees. It’s a simple realization, but one reached in deep thought. In 150 years of industrial revolution, life seems to have become less simple, but really life has gotten more complicated because we've made it more complicated. Like me driving the car, we're ones driving the industrial revolution, but like the road, the industrial revolution is showing us a straight-forward path and we're not thinking much about anything but. The complications of the industrial revolution sure make modern life easier day to day, but these ways just might kill us, and I think we are refusing to admit it. We’re stuck in the same old industrial revolution, except now it controls us. But what happens when the gas indicator light comes on and illuminates our need to worry? Will we have trouble admitting it then?
In this blog entry, I’ve decided to ignore altogether the debate over global climate change. There are folks who believe global climate change is a hoax perpetrated by the modern-day Chicken Little conglomerate. Chicken Littles that they are, the other side believes the sky is… not so much falling as getting a whole lot more dangerous to live under. The angry bickering of media hand puppets over whether or not GCC is a hoax only distracts us. Instead of trying to decide what damage fossil fuels are doing to our earth, could we possibly cut right to something more immediate?
I saw a film recently called Crude Impact that does just this by examining the effect we create with our demand for fossil fuels? From the film’s website: Peak oil is the point in time when the quantity of oil extracted from the earth begins to irreversibly decline. The United States reached peak oil in the early 1970s. Predictions vary, but global peak oil is anticipated as early as the year 2007. What do oil suppliers know that they’re keeping from us? Where are we in relation to global peak oil? Could it explain the current trend in oil prices that has now begun bleeding seriously into more than prices at the pump? Supply and demand says rising prices mean increasing demand and decreasing supply. This would fit the scenario of peak oil, and the current trend in prices.
One eventual outcome of passing peak oil is eventual war for resources. If/when we pass peak oil, nations that depend on oil will start eyeing up what's left. The U.S. will bump chests with other nations over oil. Like Crude Impact suggests, I strongly believe it will be China vs. the U.S. Both sides will take the sides of other countries in scrambles for remaning oil. Sounds a lot like World War III to me. Considering modern methods for warfare, I’d rather not see that.
What I appreciate most about Crude Impact is its honesty. Yes, oil companies share the blame for capitalizing on hyper-consumption (and other things), and yes, certain nations share the blame for hogging world oil, but where the film quite clearly points the finger of blame is at us, the mega-consumers. We can’t blame more powerful forces because we’re the ones supporting them. We’re the mega-consumers. The products we consume share so many ties to oil that if a product doesn’t contain oil, it probably sees oil somewhere along the way: operation, manufacture, and/or shipping. One great outcome of the bitter debates over GCC is that people have begun discussing plastic, nylon, pesticides, paint, vinyl, and most every other thing around us at this moment. Who’s to blame for supporting these products steeped in oil? Point an accusative finger at us, the U.S. With 5% of the world population, we the people of the United States are the leading global consumer: 25% of yearly oil consumed.
I’ll admit previous generations had little reason to question the industrial revolution making life easy. I’m sure they loved it. Gone were the humble days of surviving when oil emerged to keep them comfortably numb. Now we have the four basic needs all covered in oil use: food whenever we want it, temperature-controlled shelter wherever we go, more clothing than we actually wear, and water in disposable plastic containers. Add in the luxuries and time-saving devices, and you see how our demand for oil keeps growing, and growing, and growing. Nothing outlasts a hyper-energized nation, except maybe the half-life of plastic.
More so than mass consumption, inefficiency is the kicker. Food companies expend an average of ten calories to supply consumers with one food calorie. Crude Impact puts this inefficient energy transfer in deeply simple perspective. In Nature, when creatures make a habit of expending ten calories in order to eat one calorie, they turn into dead creatures. Virtually no creature in Nature self-destructs on purpose, but humans are doing a pretty good job.
Over the course of compiling this blog entry, I surfed the film’s website and e-mailed a contact address with questions about alternative energy sources. The director, James Jandak Wood, replied the next day. He made efficiency a clear theme in his reply: I believe the message you heard from several of the speakers - that the need is to reduce energy use, not replace our current use - is the right message. Dr. Bill Rees said in the movie that all of the alternative fuels in the aggregate can't possibly replace fossil fuels. This is a controversial statement, but I think the possibility that this is true should drive us toward reduction. I think reduction of energy will also help the wealth imbalance, create greater peace and justice in the world and much more. Sounds like a big statement, but I believe it to be true.
I respect Mr. Wood’s “better safe than sorry” mode of thought, and his focus on improved efficiency, but as one interviewee notes in the film, a major problem with the way environmentalists promote conservation is as I paraphrase here: If you ask someone to make a sacrifice for the environment, they won’t. This is problematic, because consumers constitute the majority of oil consumption. Sure, we can make energy-efficient cars, but what happens when the gas indicator light comes on? We can slow down to a more gas-efficient speed and we can coast down hills, but we’re still delaying the inevitable. At what point do we choose between self-sacrifice and global self-destruction?
In other words, I disagree somewhat with Mr. Wood’s e-mail reply. I think he asks too little of the American people. We’re the ones over-consuming, so we should be the ones to make sacrifices as well, and this simply will not happen fast enough. Companies should still provide more efficient appliances, cars, etc., but Americans probably won't take these efficient tools and become more responsible with them. Call me pessimistic, but I just don’t have faith in Americans to suddenly turn hard-core environmental, because we are overlooking the every day addictions of Americans. Most addictions are only troublesome when the addictive substance is taken away. As a culture today, we are addicted to—among many other things—electricity, packaged foods, television, and automobiles. As long as these are readily available, we don’t notice our addiction. If one—or all—were taken away, we would immediately exhibit the classic symptoms of addictive withdrawal. (See the next entry for this quote's source.) Humans no longer live the brute animal life, but we certainly retain our animal-like selfishness, which just happens to go hand in hand with addiction. Using fossil fuels more efficiently will not save us from the refusals of people who do not wish to “devolve” their lives.
I am the opposing hand puppet to Mr. Wood’s optimism, but I’m not all downer. I promise. I know natural energy will get us somewhere sustainable. I believe in wind, solar, and some forms of water power, because they are in constant supply. However, these energy sources still require conduits (wind turbines, solar panels, and hydro-structures), which require fossil fuels to make. The wind, solar, and water power technology then allows further efficiency, but the foundational ingredient is still the same: fossil fuels.
Ethanol, a natural alternative of a different sort, seems smart in theory. Corn renews itself faster than trees, and much faster than fossil fuels, but as one fellow Blogspot-er recently expressed, ethanol is, in practice, a waste of time, space, money, and hope. Ethanol is the right idea, but corn’s best use is still to “get in my bellyyyy.”
For the good news, please continue with the next post (>>>).
04 July 2008
Deconstructive Spoiler Alert! (>>>) Declaration Oil Alert! - The good news
By far the greatest alternative energy source I’ve learned of to date is industrial hemp, which has the potential to spark an energy revolution--if only a fear-filled public can consider the benefits of a plant that, in recent decades, has only had its drawbacks magnified in the spotlight. The Reason [Foundation’s] study says the Drug Enforcement Administration's inability to distinguish between industrial hemp and marijuana is irrational and ignores scientific fact. The report states, ‘Marijuana cultivated for drug value contains between 3 and 10 percent of the active ingredient, tetrahydrocannabinol, or THC. Industrial hemp typically contains 0.3 percent or less of this active ingredient-as a result, it has no value as a drug.’ (taken from U.S. Hemp Ban Hurts Environment, Economy). While it cannot become the sole substitute for our energy needs, combined with intelligent use of efficient technologies (i.e. hybrid cars, solar/wind/hydroelectric energy), if our stubborn government can humble itself enough to at least give back industrial hemp, then I believe Mr. Wood's sense of optimism (detailed in the previous post) would have an excellent chance of becoming an oil reality. I am certain as never before with alternative resources that industrial hemp could make a HUGE impact, for all nations (including the poor ones we don't pay attention to).
In the previous post, I quote Peter McWilliams as follows regarding unrecognized addiction to everyday things: Most addictions are only troublesome when the addictive substance is taken away. As a culture today, we are addicted to—among many other things—electricity, packaged foods, television, and automobiles. As long as these are readily available, we don’t notice our addiction. If one—or all—were taken away, we would immediately exhibit the classic symptoms of addictive withdrawal. It is from McWilliams's book that I received most of my education on industrial hemp: Ain’t Nobody’s Business If You Do: The Absurdity of Consensual Crimes in Our Free Country, by Peter McWilliams. If you’re interested, the entire text is available online. The book quotes part of an ABC radio presentation by Hugh Downs: The reasons the pro-marijuana lobby wants marijuana legal have little to do with getting high, and a great deal to do with fighting oil giants like Saddam Hussein, Exxon, and Iran. The pro-marijuana groups claim that hemp is such a versatile raw material that its products not only compete with petroleum, but with coal, natural gas, nuclear energy, pharmaceutical, timber, and textile companies. It is estimated that methane and methanol production alone from hemp grown as bio-mass could replace 90% of the world’s energy needs. If they’re right, this is not good news for oil interests, and could account for the continuation of marijuana prohibition. The broadcast was recorded early in the 1990s, so the 90% statistic may no longer be accurate (considering the exponential consumption increase since then), but shit, even if it’s down to 70%, or 60%, that’s huge.
There’s a reason I post this entry today, America’s Independence Day. Not only were early drafts of the Declaration of Independence written on hemp paper, but our nation has a long history of hemp that, curiously enough, we seem to have forgotten. I remember learning in fifth grade about tobacco trade in the early colonies, but I don't remember hearing any of this before:
- Marijuana was one of the primary agricultural products in this country for more than 250 years;
- George Washington and Thomas Jefferson grew cannabis on their plantations;
- Marijuana was one of the few painkillers in colonial America. George Washington, who had dental problems his entire life, writes of its medicinal use in his journal;
- Benjamin Franklin started one of America’s first paper mills with cannabis. This allows America to have a free colonial press without having to beg or justify paper and books from England;
- Cannabis hemp was legal tender in most of the Americas from 1631 until the early 1800s;
- You could pay your taxes with cannabis hemp throughout America for over 200 years;
- You could even be jailed in America for not growing cannabis during several periods of shortage, e.g. in Virginia between 1763 and 1767.
Lately, W. and others have been going on and on about establishing independence from foreign oil. I ask you, what supports more independence than plants? If a nation has soil and the right climate, industrial hemp would establish some sense of energy independence for that country. Industrial hemp would also establish some sense of energy independence for any persons that have the climate to grow it on their own land. For this reason, the fight to reverse hemp prohibition will be very difficult. Big business will want a piece of the pie. They've played middle man for citizens’ energy needs for a long time. Why would they stop for the sake of reason? As two major players did in the 1930s, today's mega-corps will jump in to ensure continued hemp prohibition. More on the shameful origins of hemp prohibition in a future blog entry. I've gone on too long as is, and I haven't even mentioned the amazing benefits of industrial hemp.
Some of my favorite reasons for making a switch:
Highly renewable – Whereas trees take decades to renew, hemp renews itself each growing season. In warmer climates, hemp can even see three harvests per year. And in addition to growing quickly, it grows almost anywhere. There’s a reason they call it weed, you know.
Clean – As a plant, hemp would help offset the greenhouse gases released by its use, unlike fossil fuels, which already did their share of respiration millions and millions of years ago.
Versatile – In addition to making paper, clothing, and medicines, we could also use industrial hemp to make some pretty surprising things: plastics, paint, varnish, even dynamite. We could even run our cars on hemp.
Our fucking cars! From the Hugh Downs broadcast: When Rudolph Diesel produced his famous engine in 1896, he assumed that the diesel engine would be powered by a variety of fuels, especially vegetable and seed oils. Rudolph Diesel, like most engineers then, believed vegetable fuels were superior to petroleum. Hemp is the most efficient vegetable. [...] By volume, 30% of the hemp seed contains oil suitable for high-grade diesel fuel, as well as aircraft engine and precision machine oil. Henry Ford’s experiments with methanol promised cheap, readily-renewable fuel. And, if you think methanol means compromise, you should know that many modern race cars run on methanol. An efficient vegetable indeed....
After hearing every non-oil energy source slammed in the media, this proclamation of industrial hemp probably sounds too good to be true. I know every other alternative energy source I’ve learned about has fizzled out in one way or another. They all reach a point where “too good to be true” becomes “there’s just one thing.” But what if industrial hemp really is a viable possibility? I say, why not enter “better safe than sorry” mode and just think deeply for a moment about the simplicity of it all: a versatile plant that grows wild to abate some of its own greenhouse emissions, all while replacing so many of our everyday needs. It sounds like the beauty of Nature to me. If you still don’t believe the benefits of industrial hemp, at least check in for my next blog entry, when I unravel the drug tangle and follow money trail that led to the prohibition of industrial hemp. That ought to feed your cynicism.
I for one really believe in the possibility of industrial hemp, more than I’ve believed in any other cause for quite some time. Knowing what I’ve learned in just a few days, I plan to make awareness of industrial hemp a common priority in my life. I’ll be doing as much research as my spare time allows, so that I can know the drawbacks and dispel the myths. Ladies and gents, I tell you I’m extracted, revved up, and ready to go in circles on methanol power. And this time, I won’t mind if the resource leads me.
In the previous post, I quote Peter McWilliams as follows regarding unrecognized addiction to everyday things: Most addictions are only troublesome when the addictive substance is taken away. As a culture today, we are addicted to—among many other things—electricity, packaged foods, television, and automobiles. As long as these are readily available, we don’t notice our addiction. If one—or all—were taken away, we would immediately exhibit the classic symptoms of addictive withdrawal. It is from McWilliams's book that I received most of my education on industrial hemp: Ain’t Nobody’s Business If You Do: The Absurdity of Consensual Crimes in Our Free Country, by Peter McWilliams. If you’re interested, the entire text is available online. The book quotes part of an ABC radio presentation by Hugh Downs: The reasons the pro-marijuana lobby wants marijuana legal have little to do with getting high, and a great deal to do with fighting oil giants like Saddam Hussein, Exxon, and Iran. The pro-marijuana groups claim that hemp is such a versatile raw material that its products not only compete with petroleum, but with coal, natural gas, nuclear energy, pharmaceutical, timber, and textile companies. It is estimated that methane and methanol production alone from hemp grown as bio-mass could replace 90% of the world’s energy needs. If they’re right, this is not good news for oil interests, and could account for the continuation of marijuana prohibition. The broadcast was recorded early in the 1990s, so the 90% statistic may no longer be accurate (considering the exponential consumption increase since then), but shit, even if it’s down to 70%, or 60%, that’s huge.
There’s a reason I post this entry today, America’s Independence Day. Not only were early drafts of the Declaration of Independence written on hemp paper, but our nation has a long history of hemp that, curiously enough, we seem to have forgotten. I remember learning in fifth grade about tobacco trade in the early colonies, but I don't remember hearing any of this before:
- Marijuana was one of the primary agricultural products in this country for more than 250 years;
- George Washington and Thomas Jefferson grew cannabis on their plantations;
- Marijuana was one of the few painkillers in colonial America. George Washington, who had dental problems his entire life, writes of its medicinal use in his journal;
- Benjamin Franklin started one of America’s first paper mills with cannabis. This allows America to have a free colonial press without having to beg or justify paper and books from England;
- Cannabis hemp was legal tender in most of the Americas from 1631 until the early 1800s;
- You could pay your taxes with cannabis hemp throughout America for over 200 years;
- You could even be jailed in America for not growing cannabis during several periods of shortage, e.g. in Virginia between 1763 and 1767.
Lately, W. and others have been going on and on about establishing independence from foreign oil. I ask you, what supports more independence than plants? If a nation has soil and the right climate, industrial hemp would establish some sense of energy independence for that country. Industrial hemp would also establish some sense of energy independence for any persons that have the climate to grow it on their own land. For this reason, the fight to reverse hemp prohibition will be very difficult. Big business will want a piece of the pie. They've played middle man for citizens’ energy needs for a long time. Why would they stop for the sake of reason? As two major players did in the 1930s, today's mega-corps will jump in to ensure continued hemp prohibition. More on the shameful origins of hemp prohibition in a future blog entry. I've gone on too long as is, and I haven't even mentioned the amazing benefits of industrial hemp.
Some of my favorite reasons for making a switch:
Highly renewable – Whereas trees take decades to renew, hemp renews itself each growing season. In warmer climates, hemp can even see three harvests per year. And in addition to growing quickly, it grows almost anywhere. There’s a reason they call it weed, you know.
Clean – As a plant, hemp would help offset the greenhouse gases released by its use, unlike fossil fuels, which already did their share of respiration millions and millions of years ago.
Versatile – In addition to making paper, clothing, and medicines, we could also use industrial hemp to make some pretty surprising things: plastics, paint, varnish, even dynamite. We could even run our cars on hemp.
Our fucking cars! From the Hugh Downs broadcast: When Rudolph Diesel produced his famous engine in 1896, he assumed that the diesel engine would be powered by a variety of fuels, especially vegetable and seed oils. Rudolph Diesel, like most engineers then, believed vegetable fuels were superior to petroleum. Hemp is the most efficient vegetable. [...] By volume, 30% of the hemp seed contains oil suitable for high-grade diesel fuel, as well as aircraft engine and precision machine oil. Henry Ford’s experiments with methanol promised cheap, readily-renewable fuel. And, if you think methanol means compromise, you should know that many modern race cars run on methanol. An efficient vegetable indeed....
After hearing every non-oil energy source slammed in the media, this proclamation of industrial hemp probably sounds too good to be true. I know every other alternative energy source I’ve learned about has fizzled out in one way or another. They all reach a point where “too good to be true” becomes “there’s just one thing.” But what if industrial hemp really is a viable possibility? I say, why not enter “better safe than sorry” mode and just think deeply for a moment about the simplicity of it all: a versatile plant that grows wild to abate some of its own greenhouse emissions, all while replacing so many of our everyday needs. It sounds like the beauty of Nature to me. If you still don’t believe the benefits of industrial hemp, at least check in for my next blog entry, when I unravel the drug tangle and follow money trail that led to the prohibition of industrial hemp. That ought to feed your cynicism.
I for one really believe in the possibility of industrial hemp, more than I’ve believed in any other cause for quite some time. Knowing what I’ve learned in just a few days, I plan to make awareness of industrial hemp a common priority in my life. I’ll be doing as much research as my spare time allows, so that I can know the drawbacks and dispel the myths. Ladies and gents, I tell you I’m extracted, revved up, and ready to go in circles on methanol power. And this time, I won’t mind if the resource leads me.
Oil company footnote
Crude Impact taught me that the Exxon Valdez clusterfuck (usually considered a major oil disaster) was hardly the beginning. Now I’ve taken a different stance on Valdez. At least it was an accident. The film offers video documentation of the cost-saving “disposal” methods Texaco used during an extraction project in Ecuador. For what they made a conscious effort to do—because there were no laws to prevent them, never again will I fill my gas tank at a Texaco station. Shell Oil gets called out pretty hard too for doing nothing to stop Nigerian executions that benefited operations in the Niger Delta. Shell Oil representatives literally sat watching as Ken Saro-Wiwa and other Ogoni activists were tried, convicted, and executed… so Shell Oil’s extraction project could “proceed smoothly.” I think those were the words in the memo. I greatly appreciated the film’s education on these matters. Somehow I never heard about this before. (Sshhhh. Don’t make too much noise. I think the media is sleeeeeepinggg.)
27 June 2008
Quote by Bertrand Russell
"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt."
Ergo, the zimdog asks you,
Have you questioned yourself today?
Ergo, the zimdog asks you,
Have you questioned yourself today?
20 June 2008
The Surprises of Cat
Those of you who know Dr. Dalloway Muffintop Snatchworth Riff-Raff von Kittenheimer are those of you who knew the coolest cat of the modern era. She had a great sense of humor...
...whether she wanted to or not. This still is my favorite thing about her. She loved me unconditionally, despite the silly dress-ups or her reluctant adventures as Spider-Cat. Despite her vehicle, she was pretty much a dog in cat form.
Well, yesterday, the cat I knew threw some pretty enormous surprises my way.
Surprise #1
Her was a him, but regardless what the vet said, I decided after the fact that he'll always be a she to me.
Surprise #2
She was a very sick cat.
Now resting in peace, free from my antics...
After the comprehensive exam, the vet told me cats hide their illness well. Kitty is proof of this. While visually emaciated, the weight loss came on slowly enough over the past few months that, too busy with all my human bullshit, I hardly noticed she was living off her body fat. Even in her anemic, frail form, she managed to hide a mass the size of a key lime. There it was, right next to the tangle in her intestinal tract where the vet thinks she was bleeding out. I never thought any different of her health. Her ingestion and out-gestion showed little change from usual. I seriously thought I was just taking my cat in for yearly vaccines. An hour later, I left the vet's office without Kitty.
The vet offered me some options. Even the optimistic options were not promising (not to mention being well beyond my financial means), but I still asked for a few minutes to think it all over. The unmanly crying commenced as soon as the vet and his assistant shut the door. As I sat there in catharsis, hanging out with Kitty, I gave her the usual routine: some quick-shine shoulder blade rubbing; cradling her on her back while I rubbed her face; and holding her up by the armpits, dangling her above my head. The last one she always seemed neutral on, but that one was for me because it always made me laugh. And of course she put up with it, because I was her favorite human.
When the vet returned, I asked him to put my cat out of her misery. Prior, I was one to consider euthanasia unnecessary. Even minutes before making a decision, I wondered why shouldn't I just let her die naturally. Euthanasia is always selfish with pets, for no animal would choose death over life, but using my unique human perspective in the moment, I made a decision for Kitty. I figured she'd want her last minutes to be good ones spent with me. After the fact, I still felt my decision was right, and surprisingly, I was relieved when the anesthesia overdose struck her. She tightened, died with her eyes open, turned soft, and like that, my sadness was gone. I'm no expert biologist or philosopher, but this seems to me like evidence of unseen, unconscious chemical communication between life forces: feeling relief from relief.
The vet asked me if I wanted to feel the mass. Once I had a sense for it, he tried to explain why he asked if I wanted to feel it. I don't remember his reasoning, but I remember my stupid reply: "I have some biology background, so it's interesting for me." God, what an idiot I turn into around death. I become as distracted as I am humble. There is something to this though. When I arrived at Emily's house after her grandmother died, that was the first thing Emily's mom asked: Did I want to touch Grandma Millie's hand? Maybe it's knowing the rest of the being has moved on, and it's only a physical vehicle left in front of me, or maybe it's just to confirm what denial tries to avoid. Either way, being alive and touching the dead brings some sense of comfort I'll have to consider more.
I wanted to blog about this last night, but I was fighting a headache. Today, the house seems that much emptier, so perhaps doing this now provides therapy when I need it more. I already miss her retarded meow, and the way she'd follow me around the house for minutes at a time. She certainly leaves a bigger void than the 5 pounds of mass no longer here.
This one's for you, Kitty:
...whether she wanted to or not. This still is my favorite thing about her. She loved me unconditionally, despite the silly dress-ups or her reluctant adventures as Spider-Cat. Despite her vehicle, she was pretty much a dog in cat form.
Well, yesterday, the cat I knew threw some pretty enormous surprises my way.
Surprise #1
Her was a him, but regardless what the vet said, I decided after the fact that he'll always be a she to me.
Surprise #2
She was a very sick cat.
Now resting in peace, free from my antics...
Dr. Dalloway Muffintop Snatchworth Riff-Raff von Kittenheimer, or Kitty
(????-2008)
(????-2008)
After the comprehensive exam, the vet told me cats hide their illness well. Kitty is proof of this. While visually emaciated, the weight loss came on slowly enough over the past few months that, too busy with all my human bullshit, I hardly noticed she was living off her body fat. Even in her anemic, frail form, she managed to hide a mass the size of a key lime. There it was, right next to the tangle in her intestinal tract where the vet thinks she was bleeding out. I never thought any different of her health. Her ingestion and out-gestion showed little change from usual. I seriously thought I was just taking my cat in for yearly vaccines. An hour later, I left the vet's office without Kitty.
The vet offered me some options. Even the optimistic options were not promising (not to mention being well beyond my financial means), but I still asked for a few minutes to think it all over. The unmanly crying commenced as soon as the vet and his assistant shut the door. As I sat there in catharsis, hanging out with Kitty, I gave her the usual routine: some quick-shine shoulder blade rubbing; cradling her on her back while I rubbed her face; and holding her up by the armpits, dangling her above my head. The last one she always seemed neutral on, but that one was for me because it always made me laugh. And of course she put up with it, because I was her favorite human.
When the vet returned, I asked him to put my cat out of her misery. Prior, I was one to consider euthanasia unnecessary. Even minutes before making a decision, I wondered why shouldn't I just let her die naturally. Euthanasia is always selfish with pets, for no animal would choose death over life, but using my unique human perspective in the moment, I made a decision for Kitty. I figured she'd want her last minutes to be good ones spent with me. After the fact, I still felt my decision was right, and surprisingly, I was relieved when the anesthesia overdose struck her. She tightened, died with her eyes open, turned soft, and like that, my sadness was gone. I'm no expert biologist or philosopher, but this seems to me like evidence of unseen, unconscious chemical communication between life forces: feeling relief from relief.
The vet asked me if I wanted to feel the mass. Once I had a sense for it, he tried to explain why he asked if I wanted to feel it. I don't remember his reasoning, but I remember my stupid reply: "I have some biology background, so it's interesting for me." God, what an idiot I turn into around death. I become as distracted as I am humble. There is something to this though. When I arrived at Emily's house after her grandmother died, that was the first thing Emily's mom asked: Did I want to touch Grandma Millie's hand? Maybe it's knowing the rest of the being has moved on, and it's only a physical vehicle left in front of me, or maybe it's just to confirm what denial tries to avoid. Either way, being alive and touching the dead brings some sense of comfort I'll have to consider more.
I wanted to blog about this last night, but I was fighting a headache. Today, the house seems that much emptier, so perhaps doing this now provides therapy when I need it more. I already miss her retarded meow, and the way she'd follow me around the house for minutes at a time. She certainly leaves a bigger void than the 5 pounds of mass no longer here.
This one's for you, Kitty:
MMRRRAOWH! MRRH.
03 June 2008
Dogs on Dixie
A couple weeks ago, I got pulled over by one rather large waste of money in a uniform. Speed traps are not only insulting to drivers. They also reduce the policemen working them to traffic machines. Were I not one of only five cars on Dixie Highway at the time, I might agree that they were doing something to benefit other drivers. Clearly, the event was more a fundraiser for the city than a declaration of road safety. Unfortunately for me, I was the guy paying more attention to the road and less attention to my speedometer; as a result, I am penalized for...accelerating to pass another car.
It's a funny thing about Dixie Hwy. Going north, the speed limit is 35. Going south, it's 40. Guess which way I was going. Yep, 52 in the 35. Like I said, I wasn't on constant speedometer watch (because I prefer to watch the road, you know, that direction my car is headed). I can't honestly say whether I hit 52 or not. I probably did. What I refuse to believe, however, is that 35 is a reasonable speed limit for Dixie Hwy. The wide, grassy median sports a north-south train track while industries and establishments line the road sides. Where's the residentiality that would warrant 35, or even 40mph going the other way?
Traffic cops know where to put the speed traps. They put them where the speed limit seems inappropriately under-set. Then they suck in their stomachs against the shaded side of a building and wait for the fastest of the few to come along. I was only trying to go somewhere and be productive. I'm not against policing Florida drivers. I'm just curious why the traffic police can't focus their authority on the drivers like the ones cutting me off with a fist in the air or the ones tailgating me with a phone in their ear? It is counter-logic to only penalize someone for driving over a certain speed. Seems to me, it's not necessarily how fast I drive; it's how I drive. I don't think radar guns can detect when I have both hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road.
Did you know it is illegal to refuse signing a traffic ticket? When the issuing cop handed me the ticket for my signature, I was fuming fucking mad, so I took the clipboard and drew a fast line as my signature. He informed me I was required by law to sign as it appears on my license. I told him it didn't matter if I did, like it doesn't really matter what you do on a credit card line. In excited motion, he opened my door and ordered me out of the car, threatening me with arrest. I think I actually saw semen seeping through his pants.
I knew anything that followed would not proceed my way if I got out of the car. Fighting hollow citations is far more effective than fighting power-hungry humans.The badge on his shirt gives him the power to do almost anything he wants. If he saw me as angry (which I was), he has the authority to tase me, shoot me, beat me, or do whatever he deems necessary. And then he'll charge me for "resisting arrest" and whatever official name they give "not signing a traffic citation." If I'm lucky he will forget about the "unlawful speeding" offense. I don't agree with this fact of law, but I recognize its unfortunate presence. so in an amazing moment of sudden humility, I told him, "Fine. Give it here. I'll sign your bullshit."
Most everyone I know is nice to the police who pull them over, but I'm telling you, you are making a mistake. Think about the long run. Any courtesy you show them only adds to the power they feel. And they are not just doing their jobs. I'm vomitingly tired of hearing that line. If someone doesn't want to feel the wrath of the people, then that person should not take a relatively comfy job in public service. They work for us, so they should be able to listen to our heart-felt criticism without retreating behind their authority.
Nuff said. Obviously this is a sore subject for me. I had to get the good news out about baby z before I could handle these emotions. In closing, I'd just like to say to traffic cops all over the land...
Get a job, buddy. What you're doing now is not work. It's robot-ing for an organization that steals the other kids' lunch money. Now, if you get out there and focus solely on dangerous drivers, then you will have earned my respect.
29 May 2008
zimdog's z-word series: zygote
the zimpuppy that formed from my birds getting busy with Emily's bees
Here's a picture of our l'il zimdog(ette). Look on the right edge of the dark spot. It's the weird clump of stuff that looks like a black-eyed pea. The zimpuppy is not a total surprise to us. As a married couple, we have God's permission to... you know, do that thing where I move my index finger in and out of a tunnel Emily makes with her hand. Maybe this is God's way of rewarding us for finally trying that missionary-style.
From the moment I knew I had helped make something so cool, it was pretty much the most exciting thing that had happened all month... or maybe a little longer than that. Let me tell you, everything changed when the baby doctor stuck a magic wand up my wife's vagina, and I got to see a six-week-old heart beating. I'm hooked.
I can't really top this z-word, so zygote may very well be the last in the series. Oh, and I'm a lazy blogger. From here on, expect more blogs about zimdog's zimpuppy series instead. Also, visit Emily's page for regular updates: Story of a girl...or boy
Here's a picture of our l'il zimdog(ette). Look on the right edge of the dark spot. It's the weird clump of stuff that looks like a black-eyed pea. The zimpuppy is not a total surprise to us. As a married couple, we have God's permission to... you know, do that thing where I move my index finger in and out of a tunnel Emily makes with her hand. Maybe this is God's way of rewarding us for finally trying that missionary-style.
From the moment I knew I had helped make something so cool, it was pretty much the most exciting thing that had happened all month... or maybe a little longer than that. Let me tell you, everything changed when the baby doctor stuck a magic wand up my wife's vagina, and I got to see a six-week-old heart beating. I'm hooked.
I can't really top this z-word, so zygote may very well be the last in the series. Oh, and I'm a lazy blogger. From here on, expect more blogs about zimdog's zimpuppy series instead. Also, visit Emily's page for regular updates: Story of a girl...or boy
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