Jim Poling Sr.'s Blog, page 40
March 3, 2016
The Next Revolution
A malaise – that vague sense that something is not right – has us in its grip.
It’s not the March malaise that accompanies the weariness of winter and yearning for spring. It’s a malaise that has been growing for some time, and it is shared by others beyond our own confines, in fact throughout the western world.
This malaise is a deep uneasiness about our economy, our political systems and our way of life in general.
Feelings that something is not right with our lives are not uncommon. They are part of the tides of life, flowing and ebbing on the tragedies and triumphs of living. They usually are chased away by optimism that things can and will get better.
I hope I am wrong with this one, but I don’t believe that things will get better. At least not for a long time. There is a evidence that we are stuck in this one and only revolutionary change will begin to move us forward again.
We have lived with a stagnant economy for years, either in or skirting the edges of recession. New full-time jobs are not abundant and job security and long-employment are relics from the last century.
The growing inequality between the rich and the so-called middle class is obvious. Many of us have a harder time keeping up with costs than we did last year. More of us are working long past when we expected to be retired.
A growing number of people now believe that life for their children and grandchildren will not be better, or even as good, as theirs.
Listening to all the high-tech sales people out there you would think we are living in a life-altering revolution. We are not. The much touted information technology revolution has not changed the basics of our lives. In fact, real changes in living have been few over the past 50 years or more.
Sure, medical advances have increased life spans but almost all of our modern advances are built on discoveries and inventions made many decades ago. The only genuine new thing is the Internet.
My home today is much the same as my grandparents’ home of the late 1950s. Turn a tap and water runs. Flick a switch and lights come on. There is a TV in the living room and an automobile in the driveway. The only thing I have that they did not is a personal computer, which allows me to do things much more quickly, and unfortunately sometimes with less thought.
Shapes, colours and the general quality of our stuff have changed, but the basics have not.
Nowhere is the malaise more obvious than in the U.S. where this year’s presidential election race sees voters turning to outsiders such as Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders.
Noam Chomsky, the famed American academic, said in an interview last week that economic uncertainty and loss of social cohesion are driving more people to right wing leaders.
“People feel isolated, helpless, victim(s) of powerful forces that they do not understand and cannot influence.”
However, the political outsiders are not going to help them. Neither are the establishment insiders.
Our governments are ad agencies rolling out fantasies that life is getting better for all. Whatever you need, whatever you want they are going to get it for you because they cannot exist without your vote.
It is easy sometimes to think of our politicians as corrupt, or just plain stupid. In most cases they are not. They are just people like us, but who spend too much time in meetings convincing each other they have discovered brilliant new ways to change anything.
Our world has stalled and will stay stalled until we realize that we must change a system that demands more building, more production, more profits, and more of everything. We are going to have to learn to live happily and comfortably with less.
How we get ourselves and our politicians to realize and accept that presents a huge challenge. How we manage to achieve it after accepting it is another.
Changing our systems of living is where the next revolution lies.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
It’s not the March malaise that accompanies the weariness of winter and yearning for spring. It’s a malaise that has been growing for some time, and it is shared by others beyond our own confines, in fact throughout the western world.
This malaise is a deep uneasiness about our economy, our political systems and our way of life in general.
Feelings that something is not right with our lives are not uncommon. They are part of the tides of life, flowing and ebbing on the tragedies and triumphs of living. They usually are chased away by optimism that things can and will get better.
I hope I am wrong with this one, but I don’t believe that things will get better. At least not for a long time. There is a evidence that we are stuck in this one and only revolutionary change will begin to move us forward again.
We have lived with a stagnant economy for years, either in or skirting the edges of recession. New full-time jobs are not abundant and job security and long-employment are relics from the last century.
The growing inequality between the rich and the so-called middle class is obvious. Many of us have a harder time keeping up with costs than we did last year. More of us are working long past when we expected to be retired.
A growing number of people now believe that life for their children and grandchildren will not be better, or even as good, as theirs.
Listening to all the high-tech sales people out there you would think we are living in a life-altering revolution. We are not. The much touted information technology revolution has not changed the basics of our lives. In fact, real changes in living have been few over the past 50 years or more.
Sure, medical advances have increased life spans but almost all of our modern advances are built on discoveries and inventions made many decades ago. The only genuine new thing is the Internet.
My home today is much the same as my grandparents’ home of the late 1950s. Turn a tap and water runs. Flick a switch and lights come on. There is a TV in the living room and an automobile in the driveway. The only thing I have that they did not is a personal computer, which allows me to do things much more quickly, and unfortunately sometimes with less thought.
Shapes, colours and the general quality of our stuff have changed, but the basics have not.
Nowhere is the malaise more obvious than in the U.S. where this year’s presidential election race sees voters turning to outsiders such as Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders.
Noam Chomsky, the famed American academic, said in an interview last week that economic uncertainty and loss of social cohesion are driving more people to right wing leaders.
“People feel isolated, helpless, victim(s) of powerful forces that they do not understand and cannot influence.”
However, the political outsiders are not going to help them. Neither are the establishment insiders.
Our governments are ad agencies rolling out fantasies that life is getting better for all. Whatever you need, whatever you want they are going to get it for you because they cannot exist without your vote.
It is easy sometimes to think of our politicians as corrupt, or just plain stupid. In most cases they are not. They are just people like us, but who spend too much time in meetings convincing each other they have discovered brilliant new ways to change anything.
Our world has stalled and will stay stalled until we realize that we must change a system that demands more building, more production, more profits, and more of everything. We are going to have to learn to live happily and comfortably with less.
How we get ourselves and our politicians to realize and accept that presents a huge challenge. How we manage to achieve it after accepting it is another.
Changing our systems of living is where the next revolution lies.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
February 25, 2016
Election Tattoos and Star Wars
I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo. Thinking hard.
Getting a tattoo is no lightweight decision. What statement do I want to make? What design? On which body part? These are serious questions, so I decided to do some serious research.
Trolling the Internet I learned that arrows, roses, and birds are among those most favoured designs worldwide. Also Roman numerals and glyphs.
Everything I read about tattoos was interesting, although not necessarily helpful. Then I landed on some totally unexpected, bombshell information: Some tattoo studios in the United States are offering free Donald Trump tattoos.
You can get The Donald’s full face, complete with that pompous gray-blonde hair wave. And you can get his campaign slogan “Make America Great Again.” You can even get his face at the centre of the Stars and Stripes, in full colour. All at no charge.
Trump tattoos are showing up on people’s shoulders, necks, arms, ankles and calves.
It is another absurd twist in what has to be the most bizarre presidential election in U.S. history. It is a freak show reminiscent of the bar scenes in Star Wars.
You might recall the Mos Eisley Cantina on the planet Tatooine. The bar was a dark and seedy dive where star pilots landed for drinks, weird music called Jizz and to engage in some violent rough housing. The regular customers are some of the most villainous scumbags you hope never to encounter.
Each time I watch a presidential candidate debate on TV I feel like I have walked into the Mos Eisley Cantina. All the candidates are there. Republican and Democrats.
There’s Donald Trump, looking and sounding just like Chewbacca. (except Chewbacca has a nicer hair style). Someone asks him if as president he would nuke Mexico to stop the flow of illegal immigrants.
“Whoaa waamaa warrgth,” he answers, which I think translates as: “It’s unbelievable. They're bringing drugs, they're bringing crime, they're rapists.”
Beside him is Jeb Bush, his eyes darting side to side. He looks terrified at being there. Either that or he has Irritable Bowel Syndrome and is urgently looking for a toilet. Or, maybe he just realized that he is about to be bounced from the campaign.
Ted Cruz is there, looking calm as a jellyfish. He has a smile that gives the impression he has swallowed not just the canary, but an entire aviary.
At the far end of the bar Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders are locked in argument. Hillary thinks she is Princess Leia but is more like Leesub Sirln, alias the Weird Girl.
Bernie is doing his Obi-Wan Kenobi routine but still can’t figure out how to switch on his laser lance.
Latest word is that some Democrats are getting Bernie or Hillary tattoos. You can get a full face tattoo of Hillary or simply “HRC 2016” which fits nicely on a wrist.
Bernie fans are getting the hair-askew-on-top-of heavy-rim-glasses tattoo, some with the slogan “Feel the Bern.”
Election tattooing is not a new trend, nor solely the product of the U.S. In our federal election last fall a Montreal tattoo studio offered free election-style tattoos with a twist. It challenged the party leaders to have their election promises tattooed on their bodies and offered to do it for free.
"Because, like a tattoo, a promise is for life," the studio said in an video launching its Ink Your Promise campaign.
Those tattoo dudes are not only artists, they are smart business people. Tattoo politicians with their election promises and 100 days later they will be lined up at the door willing to pay whatever to have them erased.
Neither Justin the Good, Stephen the Evil or Tom the Whatever is believed to have taken them up on the offer.
At any rate, I’ve decided not to get a Donald Trump tattoo. If I did, however, I know where I would put it. It would adorn the very lowest reaches of my back, closest to the body part that best describes him.
Instead of that I will to get one in large letters across my forehead. It will read:
SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE AMERICA SANE AGAIN!
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
Getting a tattoo is no lightweight decision. What statement do I want to make? What design? On which body part? These are serious questions, so I decided to do some serious research.
Trolling the Internet I learned that arrows, roses, and birds are among those most favoured designs worldwide. Also Roman numerals and glyphs.
Everything I read about tattoos was interesting, although not necessarily helpful. Then I landed on some totally unexpected, bombshell information: Some tattoo studios in the United States are offering free Donald Trump tattoos.
You can get The Donald’s full face, complete with that pompous gray-blonde hair wave. And you can get his campaign slogan “Make America Great Again.” You can even get his face at the centre of the Stars and Stripes, in full colour. All at no charge.
Trump tattoos are showing up on people’s shoulders, necks, arms, ankles and calves.
It is another absurd twist in what has to be the most bizarre presidential election in U.S. history. It is a freak show reminiscent of the bar scenes in Star Wars.
You might recall the Mos Eisley Cantina on the planet Tatooine. The bar was a dark and seedy dive where star pilots landed for drinks, weird music called Jizz and to engage in some violent rough housing. The regular customers are some of the most villainous scumbags you hope never to encounter.
Each time I watch a presidential candidate debate on TV I feel like I have walked into the Mos Eisley Cantina. All the candidates are there. Republican and Democrats.
There’s Donald Trump, looking and sounding just like Chewbacca. (except Chewbacca has a nicer hair style). Someone asks him if as president he would nuke Mexico to stop the flow of illegal immigrants.
“Whoaa waamaa warrgth,” he answers, which I think translates as: “It’s unbelievable. They're bringing drugs, they're bringing crime, they're rapists.”
Beside him is Jeb Bush, his eyes darting side to side. He looks terrified at being there. Either that or he has Irritable Bowel Syndrome and is urgently looking for a toilet. Or, maybe he just realized that he is about to be bounced from the campaign.
Ted Cruz is there, looking calm as a jellyfish. He has a smile that gives the impression he has swallowed not just the canary, but an entire aviary.
At the far end of the bar Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders are locked in argument. Hillary thinks she is Princess Leia but is more like Leesub Sirln, alias the Weird Girl.
Bernie is doing his Obi-Wan Kenobi routine but still can’t figure out how to switch on his laser lance.
Latest word is that some Democrats are getting Bernie or Hillary tattoos. You can get a full face tattoo of Hillary or simply “HRC 2016” which fits nicely on a wrist.
Bernie fans are getting the hair-askew-on-top-of heavy-rim-glasses tattoo, some with the slogan “Feel the Bern.”
Election tattooing is not a new trend, nor solely the product of the U.S. In our federal election last fall a Montreal tattoo studio offered free election-style tattoos with a twist. It challenged the party leaders to have their election promises tattooed on their bodies and offered to do it for free.
"Because, like a tattoo, a promise is for life," the studio said in an video launching its Ink Your Promise campaign.
Those tattoo dudes are not only artists, they are smart business people. Tattoo politicians with their election promises and 100 days later they will be lined up at the door willing to pay whatever to have them erased.
Neither Justin the Good, Stephen the Evil or Tom the Whatever is believed to have taken them up on the offer.
At any rate, I’ve decided not to get a Donald Trump tattoo. If I did, however, I know where I would put it. It would adorn the very lowest reaches of my back, closest to the body part that best describes him.
Instead of that I will to get one in large letters across my forehead. It will read:
SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE AMERICA SANE AGAIN!
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
February 18, 2016
Little Flu. For Now
It has not only been an unusually mild winter (except for last weekend), but an unusually mild influenza season. Everyone hopes it will stay that way.
Up to Feb. 1 there had been only 421 hospitalizations for flu reported in all of Canada. Reported flu deaths were 14 country wide.
That’s a huge improvement from last flu season when 7,719 people were hospitalized with influenza and 591 died. The year previous there were 5,284 hospitalizations and 331 deaths.
Light flu seasons tend to make us forget just how dangerous influenza really is. The World Health Organization (WHO) says that each year there are three to five million cases of severe influenza worldwide. Anywhere between 250,000 to 500,000 people a year die from it.
You have to approach those big numbers with some skepticism. Flu statistics are never totally accurate. They are based on computer models and quite a bit of guesswork. For instance, if a terminally ill cancer patient comes down with a flu bug and dies, did she die from influenza?
The last serious flu outbreak was in 2009. It was the H1N1 virus that became a pandemic which WHO said killed 285,000 people worldwide. A pandemic is a worldwide outbreak as compared to an epidemic, which is when a disease affects more people than usual for a region. No matter how light a flu season might be, none of us should ever become complacent about influenza. Last fall a report to the British government identified pandemic influenza as the highest priority natural hazards risk facing humans.
We are, however, far too complacent about the danger of avian influenza - the bird flu - and the virus breeding grounds of Asia.
Some health experts believe another flu pandemic is only a matter of time. Some have for years been predicting a flu pandemic that will infect more than one-third of the world’s population and kill hundreds of thousands.
It has happened before. The 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic was a global disaster with 50 million deaths. There have been other flu pandemics since, including the 1967-68 Hong Kong flu, which I remember well because it sent me to the hospital.Many believe the next flu pandemic will begin in China, the world’s main mixing bowl for bird flu.
Avian flu bugs live harmlessly in the bodies of waterfowl, such as ducks and geese. When these birds mix with domesticated poultry, or sometimes pigs, the flu virus gets passed on and can mutate. Most of these influenza viruses do not affect humans, but some do and cause epidemics, and even pandemics.
The flu virus world is like alphabet soup. H1N1. H5N1. H7N9. The names keep changing as the viruses mutate until one comes along that is the Big One that allows easy human-to-human transmission.
China is an excellent bird flu factory because it has huge open air poultry operations where waterfowl can easily mix in. And southern China lies inside major waterfowl migration routes, so there are many opportunities for waterfowl to pass along their viruses.
Worsening the situation is the world’s increasing appetite for chicken. Chicken rapidly is becoming the world’s most popular meat. Global poultry production is said to have quadrupled in the last few decades.
Poultry consumption and production is soaring in China. More of those open air - and in many cases unsanitary - markets or production areas increase the chances for bird flu virus production.
There is not much average folks can do to reduce the chances of a serious flu outbreak. We can only hope that agencies like WHO, the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention and other public health agencies are diligent in their work.
We all should become better educated about flu. There are many misconceptions, such as cold weather being a cause of the flu. There often is more flu in colder weather but that’s only because people spend more time indoors, increasing contact and the chances of spreading germs.
Better educated and certainly more aware so we can prod our politicians. We don’t need our politicians and bureaucrats dozing like they were during the 2002-2003 SARS disaster.
Email: shaman@vianet.caProfile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
Up to Feb. 1 there had been only 421 hospitalizations for flu reported in all of Canada. Reported flu deaths were 14 country wide.
That’s a huge improvement from last flu season when 7,719 people were hospitalized with influenza and 591 died. The year previous there were 5,284 hospitalizations and 331 deaths.
Light flu seasons tend to make us forget just how dangerous influenza really is. The World Health Organization (WHO) says that each year there are three to five million cases of severe influenza worldwide. Anywhere between 250,000 to 500,000 people a year die from it.
You have to approach those big numbers with some skepticism. Flu statistics are never totally accurate. They are based on computer models and quite a bit of guesswork. For instance, if a terminally ill cancer patient comes down with a flu bug and dies, did she die from influenza?
The last serious flu outbreak was in 2009. It was the H1N1 virus that became a pandemic which WHO said killed 285,000 people worldwide. A pandemic is a worldwide outbreak as compared to an epidemic, which is when a disease affects more people than usual for a region. No matter how light a flu season might be, none of us should ever become complacent about influenza. Last fall a report to the British government identified pandemic influenza as the highest priority natural hazards risk facing humans.
We are, however, far too complacent about the danger of avian influenza - the bird flu - and the virus breeding grounds of Asia.
Some health experts believe another flu pandemic is only a matter of time. Some have for years been predicting a flu pandemic that will infect more than one-third of the world’s population and kill hundreds of thousands.
It has happened before. The 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic was a global disaster with 50 million deaths. There have been other flu pandemics since, including the 1967-68 Hong Kong flu, which I remember well because it sent me to the hospital.Many believe the next flu pandemic will begin in China, the world’s main mixing bowl for bird flu.
Avian flu bugs live harmlessly in the bodies of waterfowl, such as ducks and geese. When these birds mix with domesticated poultry, or sometimes pigs, the flu virus gets passed on and can mutate. Most of these influenza viruses do not affect humans, but some do and cause epidemics, and even pandemics.
The flu virus world is like alphabet soup. H1N1. H5N1. H7N9. The names keep changing as the viruses mutate until one comes along that is the Big One that allows easy human-to-human transmission.
China is an excellent bird flu factory because it has huge open air poultry operations where waterfowl can easily mix in. And southern China lies inside major waterfowl migration routes, so there are many opportunities for waterfowl to pass along their viruses.
Worsening the situation is the world’s increasing appetite for chicken. Chicken rapidly is becoming the world’s most popular meat. Global poultry production is said to have quadrupled in the last few decades.
Poultry consumption and production is soaring in China. More of those open air - and in many cases unsanitary - markets or production areas increase the chances for bird flu virus production.
There is not much average folks can do to reduce the chances of a serious flu outbreak. We can only hope that agencies like WHO, the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention and other public health agencies are diligent in their work.
We all should become better educated about flu. There are many misconceptions, such as cold weather being a cause of the flu. There often is more flu in colder weather but that’s only because people spend more time indoors, increasing contact and the chances of spreading germs.
Better educated and certainly more aware so we can prod our politicians. We don’t need our politicians and bureaucrats dozing like they were during the 2002-2003 SARS disaster.
Email: shaman@vianet.caProfile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
February 11, 2016
Midnight Swims without Bathing Suits?
Maybe it’s the fine winter weather. Little snow to shovel. Some ice, but I’ve spread salt and sand on the driveway only once. Never any thought of having to shovel the roof.
With few winter chores, I’ve had more time to think. When I have too much time to think, I worry.
I have many things to fret about. Like, what if Donald Trump becomes the next leader of the free world? And, why is Justin the Good still grinning and taking selfies while the economy continues to sink? Then there is that constant worry about one day having to go to downtown Toronto.
And climate change. The world is melting. When spring comes and the mosquitoes return will they be carrying not just West Nile, but Zika virus and even chikungunya? I’m not sure what that last one is, but even its spelling looks dangerous.
This week my main worry is about drones. Drones are becoming so popular that I’m thinking maybe it’s time to wear a bathing suit on those midnight swims.
The Consumer Technology Association expects that one million drones will be sold in the U.S. this year. That’s an increase of 145 per cent over 2015.
More than 181,000 people in the U.S. have registered drones under the new Federal Aviation Administration drone rules laid down Dec. 21 last year.
We don’t know how many drones are being sold in Canada, or how many are being registered with Transport Canada. And that’s another worry. How is that a country with some of the world’s heaviest taxation loads doesn’t have current statistics?
All those drones buzzing around are worrisome. What will happen if one smacks into an aircraft windshield, or gets sucked into a jet engine?
Some countries, Canada included, are making rules to help prevent serious situations involving drones. Transport Canada has regulations prohibiting drones from flying higher than 90 metres, and within nine kilometres of a forest fire, airport or built up area. They can’t be flown over prisons, military bases, crowds of people or in restricted air space.
There is also the worry about what equipment these little buzzers can carry. There is talk about using them for pizza deliveries. If a drone can carry a pizza box, it certainly can carry a camera, firearm, or even a small bomb. Or drugs.
My biggest worry about drones, however, is privacy.
I worry that one morning I’ll step out of the shower to see a camera-equipped drone hovering outside the bathroom window. Although that might be more frightening for the viewer than for me.
Worse, what if a very astute fisherman like Steve Galea used a drone with camera to follow me to my secret fishing holes. Or, cottage visitors secretly viewing from above all the places where I stash my favourite beers and wines that I don’t want them to know about.
There are many private little places where I don’t want drones hovering.
Our federal government believes it is on top of the privacy concerns. The federal privacy commissioner noted a couple years ago that checks and balances will become necessary as more people get drones. Transport Canada says it is working with the privacy commissioner’s office to make sure drone operators respect privacy laws.
That has me worried. Governments are known to say they plan to do lots of things that never get done.
My newest and greatest worry in all of this, however, is that I will succumb to the urge to buy my own drone. As a kid I flew model airplanes and loved it.
Owning a drone would open a world of new possibilities. I could fly it over my bush lot to check on intruders. Or check out deer movements for the hunting season.
When I’m on the bush lot cutting firewood I could send my drone back to the cottage with an order for beer.
Having my own drone could create other concerns, however. Would I spend too much time playing with it? Then who would cut my winter firewood? When would I find time to scope out where the deer are hiding?
I worry about these things. Maybe it would be better if there was more snow to shovel.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
With few winter chores, I’ve had more time to think. When I have too much time to think, I worry.
I have many things to fret about. Like, what if Donald Trump becomes the next leader of the free world? And, why is Justin the Good still grinning and taking selfies while the economy continues to sink? Then there is that constant worry about one day having to go to downtown Toronto.
And climate change. The world is melting. When spring comes and the mosquitoes return will they be carrying not just West Nile, but Zika virus and even chikungunya? I’m not sure what that last one is, but even its spelling looks dangerous.
This week my main worry is about drones. Drones are becoming so popular that I’m thinking maybe it’s time to wear a bathing suit on those midnight swims.
The Consumer Technology Association expects that one million drones will be sold in the U.S. this year. That’s an increase of 145 per cent over 2015.
More than 181,000 people in the U.S. have registered drones under the new Federal Aviation Administration drone rules laid down Dec. 21 last year.
We don’t know how many drones are being sold in Canada, or how many are being registered with Transport Canada. And that’s another worry. How is that a country with some of the world’s heaviest taxation loads doesn’t have current statistics?
All those drones buzzing around are worrisome. What will happen if one smacks into an aircraft windshield, or gets sucked into a jet engine?
Some countries, Canada included, are making rules to help prevent serious situations involving drones. Transport Canada has regulations prohibiting drones from flying higher than 90 metres, and within nine kilometres of a forest fire, airport or built up area. They can’t be flown over prisons, military bases, crowds of people or in restricted air space.
There is also the worry about what equipment these little buzzers can carry. There is talk about using them for pizza deliveries. If a drone can carry a pizza box, it certainly can carry a camera, firearm, or even a small bomb. Or drugs.
My biggest worry about drones, however, is privacy.
I worry that one morning I’ll step out of the shower to see a camera-equipped drone hovering outside the bathroom window. Although that might be more frightening for the viewer than for me.
Worse, what if a very astute fisherman like Steve Galea used a drone with camera to follow me to my secret fishing holes. Or, cottage visitors secretly viewing from above all the places where I stash my favourite beers and wines that I don’t want them to know about.
There are many private little places where I don’t want drones hovering.
Our federal government believes it is on top of the privacy concerns. The federal privacy commissioner noted a couple years ago that checks and balances will become necessary as more people get drones. Transport Canada says it is working with the privacy commissioner’s office to make sure drone operators respect privacy laws.
That has me worried. Governments are known to say they plan to do lots of things that never get done.
My newest and greatest worry in all of this, however, is that I will succumb to the urge to buy my own drone. As a kid I flew model airplanes and loved it.
Owning a drone would open a world of new possibilities. I could fly it over my bush lot to check on intruders. Or check out deer movements for the hunting season.
When I’m on the bush lot cutting firewood I could send my drone back to the cottage with an order for beer.
Having my own drone could create other concerns, however. Would I spend too much time playing with it? Then who would cut my winter firewood? When would I find time to scope out where the deer are hiding?
I worry about these things. Maybe it would be better if there was more snow to shovel.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
February 4, 2016
Courage in the Cold
It was just before 1 a.m. on Feb. 3, 1943 when the torpedo struck, beginning one of the most inspirational stories of the Second World War.
Most of the 904 men aboard the USAT Dorchester were in their bunks, although probably not asleep because of the rough seas and fears of a submarine attack. The Dorchester, a luxury ocean liner converted into a U.S. troop transport ship, was just off Greenland when the torpedo exploded amidships, disabling the ship and causing it to list heavily to starboard.
The torpedo was fired from U-223, a German submarine prowling the North Atlantic for ships carrying enemy troops and supplies.
Many men on the Dorchester died immediately and many others were wounded. There was chaos as men fought to get through passageways and up stairs onto decks. Four Army chaplains, a Rabbi, a Catholic priest and two Protestant ministers, helped wounded, disoriented and desperate men to get to decks where there was some chance of survival.
Those who reached the decks found that some lifeboats could not be launched because of damage and heavy ice coating their ropes. Men flung themselves into the freezing sea hoping to reach one of the few lifeboats afloat, small life rafts or pieces of debris. The ocean temperature was one degree Celsius.
On one deck, the four chaplains opened a locker and distributed life jackets. The locker emptied quickly and there were not enough life jackets for everyone. One chaplain removed his own life jacket and gave it to the next man in line. The other three chaplains immediately gave away theirs.
One survivor, John Ladd, said later: “It was the finest thing I have ever seen or hope to see this side of heaven.”
Fewer than 30 minutes after being torpedoed, the Dorchester went down. Survivors reported seeing the four chaplains on deck, arms linked, praying and singing hymns as the ship slipped beneath the icy waves.
The four chaplains were: Rev. George L. Fox, Methodist; Rabbi Alexander D. Goode; Rev. John P. Washington, Catholic; and Rev. Clark V. Poling, Reformed Church in America.
They were four of 677 men who died in the Dorchester sinking. Only 227 were rescued.
Clark Poling was the last of seven unbroken generations of clergy in his family. He was one of my family’s distant cousins.
The selfless action of the chaplains was not the only story of courage from that night.
The Dorchester was travelling in a small convoy that included the U.S. Coast Guard cutter Comanche, which set about rescuing survivors. Nine Comanche crewmen and three officers volunteered to jump overboard, tie ropes around floating survivors and help pull them from the icy waters.
One volunteer was one of the lowest ranking men on Comanche - Charles Walter David Jr., 26, an Afro-American Mess Steward. As a black man, Charles David was not allowed to eat in the same restaurants, or watch a movie in the same theatre, as white people.
He and the other Comanche volunteers risked their lives to save 93 men from the Dorchester.
One of the men David saved was the Comanche’s executive officer, another volunteer rescuer. He was succumbing to hypothermia and could not get back onto the Comanche. Mess Steward David went back into the water and dragged him up a cargo net to safety.
David, who had a wife and three-year-old son, also suffered hypothermia working in the freezing wind and water. He came down with pneumonia and died after the Comanche reached Greenland.
There is an interesting epilogue to the Dorchester story. The Four Chaplains Memorial Foundation in Philadelphia held a special anniversary ceremony in 2000 and brought in two special guests from Germany. They were German sailors who were aboard U-223 that tragic night.
The foundation’s view was that even former enemies must be included in a world of peace and brotherhood.
The courage displayed on that night on the North Atlantic 73 years ago remains a timeless example of brotherhood and service to others.
“Valor is a gift,” American writer Carl Sandburg once said. “Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes.”
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
Most of the 904 men aboard the USAT Dorchester were in their bunks, although probably not asleep because of the rough seas and fears of a submarine attack. The Dorchester, a luxury ocean liner converted into a U.S. troop transport ship, was just off Greenland when the torpedo exploded amidships, disabling the ship and causing it to list heavily to starboard.
The torpedo was fired from U-223, a German submarine prowling the North Atlantic for ships carrying enemy troops and supplies.
Many men on the Dorchester died immediately and many others were wounded. There was chaos as men fought to get through passageways and up stairs onto decks. Four Army chaplains, a Rabbi, a Catholic priest and two Protestant ministers, helped wounded, disoriented and desperate men to get to decks where there was some chance of survival.
Those who reached the decks found that some lifeboats could not be launched because of damage and heavy ice coating their ropes. Men flung themselves into the freezing sea hoping to reach one of the few lifeboats afloat, small life rafts or pieces of debris. The ocean temperature was one degree Celsius.
On one deck, the four chaplains opened a locker and distributed life jackets. The locker emptied quickly and there were not enough life jackets for everyone. One chaplain removed his own life jacket and gave it to the next man in line. The other three chaplains immediately gave away theirs.
One survivor, John Ladd, said later: “It was the finest thing I have ever seen or hope to see this side of heaven.”
Fewer than 30 minutes after being torpedoed, the Dorchester went down. Survivors reported seeing the four chaplains on deck, arms linked, praying and singing hymns as the ship slipped beneath the icy waves.
The four chaplains were: Rev. George L. Fox, Methodist; Rabbi Alexander D. Goode; Rev. John P. Washington, Catholic; and Rev. Clark V. Poling, Reformed Church in America.
They were four of 677 men who died in the Dorchester sinking. Only 227 were rescued.
Clark Poling was the last of seven unbroken generations of clergy in his family. He was one of my family’s distant cousins.
The selfless action of the chaplains was not the only story of courage from that night.
The Dorchester was travelling in a small convoy that included the U.S. Coast Guard cutter Comanche, which set about rescuing survivors. Nine Comanche crewmen and three officers volunteered to jump overboard, tie ropes around floating survivors and help pull them from the icy waters.
One volunteer was one of the lowest ranking men on Comanche - Charles Walter David Jr., 26, an Afro-American Mess Steward. As a black man, Charles David was not allowed to eat in the same restaurants, or watch a movie in the same theatre, as white people.
He and the other Comanche volunteers risked their lives to save 93 men from the Dorchester.
One of the men David saved was the Comanche’s executive officer, another volunteer rescuer. He was succumbing to hypothermia and could not get back onto the Comanche. Mess Steward David went back into the water and dragged him up a cargo net to safety.
David, who had a wife and three-year-old son, also suffered hypothermia working in the freezing wind and water. He came down with pneumonia and died after the Comanche reached Greenland.
There is an interesting epilogue to the Dorchester story. The Four Chaplains Memorial Foundation in Philadelphia held a special anniversary ceremony in 2000 and brought in two special guests from Germany. They were German sailors who were aboard U-223 that tragic night.
The foundation’s view was that even former enemies must be included in a world of peace and brotherhood.
The courage displayed on that night on the North Atlantic 73 years ago remains a timeless example of brotherhood and service to others.
“Valor is a gift,” American writer Carl Sandburg once said. “Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes.”
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
January 28, 2016
Hooked on Downton Abbey
After six seasons I’m still wondering why a guy like me became a fan of the British TV series Downton Abbey. Not just a run-of-the-mill fan – a rabid fan. I would rather miss dinner than an episode of Downton.
For the uninitiated, Downton is a period drama following the lives of the aristocratic Crawleys and their domestic servants at their magnificent old castle in the English countryside. It is set in the years running through the First World War and into the 1920s.
Downton first aired in Britain in the fall of 2010 and the sixth season, said to be the last, ran last fall. The series is aired later in North America with the sixth season now underway on American PBS, where I watch it.
The show, a sophisticated soap opera, has become wildly popular in Canada and the United States, attracting many prominent viewers. Michelle Obama is said to be an avid viewer, as are Chelsea Clinton and her parents. Other prominent fans are actors Sandra Bullock and Harrison Ford.
Boxer Mike Tyson has said he likes the show and hopes to land a role in it.
Those folks are among the estimated 120 million viewers who tune into Downton in 220 countries and territories.
For me, Downton offers relief from the constant mayhem shovelled out to North American TV audiences. It’s nice to watch drama unfold without shouting, shooting, wild smash’em up car chases, and increasingly inventive forms of physical violence. When I want to see that kind of stuff I can shut off the TV and drive to Toronto.
I also appreciate Downton Abbey because I know there is an end to it. Many North American series clunk along with hundreds of episodes over many years. They keep going long after their most interesting stories and characters have been exhausted.
Downton usually has seven or eight episodes per season. When a season ends in late February or early March, that’s it for the year. Nothing more until next January and by then you really are looking forward to its return.
Much of our North American TV fare looks and sounds like reality TV. Little is left for the imagination.
Downton is packed with subtleties. The expressions and dialogue of the characters are delicate and intelligent. The characters are no less nasty, sometimes even brutal, than those on North American TV, but it is nastiness delivered with finesse.
One of the nastier characters is Thomas Barrow, the scheming under butler. He’s not likeable, but once into the story you realize he is struggling with his homosexuality, which was a crime in the 1920s. The viewer comes to understand why he is the way he is and develops compassion for him.
As devastating as Barrow is with cutting remarks, the show’s champion zinger slinger is unquestionably Lady Grantham, the aged mother of Robert Crawley, the earl of Downton. She is played by the famous British actress Maggie Smith.
One of her classic zingers is delivered early in Downton’s history when she is told that one of her granddaughters is entitled to her opinion.
“No, she isn't until she is married--then her husband will tell her what her opinions are.”
In another scene, her granddaughter Lady Mary tells her sharply:
“How many times am I to be ordered to marry the man sitting next to me at dinner.”
“As many times as it takes,” Lady Grantham shoots back.
All the characters in Downton Abbey are complex and well fleshed out. Dislikable as some are, the more you see of them the more likeable they become, despite their faults.
Lord Grantham is an example. He is a military man of honour and conviction and an upholder of British upper class beliefs. The world he knew is falling apart and he is not sure how to handle that.
Despite this he is not a stereotypical English aristocrat bitter about his lot. He displays compassion and treats his servants almost like family.
Downton Abbey is a flashback to a time no less complicated than today, but a time when life’s problems were faced not as an unfortunate victim, but as a determined person with quiet resolve.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
For the uninitiated, Downton is a period drama following the lives of the aristocratic Crawleys and their domestic servants at their magnificent old castle in the English countryside. It is set in the years running through the First World War and into the 1920s.
Downton first aired in Britain in the fall of 2010 and the sixth season, said to be the last, ran last fall. The series is aired later in North America with the sixth season now underway on American PBS, where I watch it.
The show, a sophisticated soap opera, has become wildly popular in Canada and the United States, attracting many prominent viewers. Michelle Obama is said to be an avid viewer, as are Chelsea Clinton and her parents. Other prominent fans are actors Sandra Bullock and Harrison Ford.
Boxer Mike Tyson has said he likes the show and hopes to land a role in it.
Those folks are among the estimated 120 million viewers who tune into Downton in 220 countries and territories.
For me, Downton offers relief from the constant mayhem shovelled out to North American TV audiences. It’s nice to watch drama unfold without shouting, shooting, wild smash’em up car chases, and increasingly inventive forms of physical violence. When I want to see that kind of stuff I can shut off the TV and drive to Toronto.
I also appreciate Downton Abbey because I know there is an end to it. Many North American series clunk along with hundreds of episodes over many years. They keep going long after their most interesting stories and characters have been exhausted.
Downton usually has seven or eight episodes per season. When a season ends in late February or early March, that’s it for the year. Nothing more until next January and by then you really are looking forward to its return.
Much of our North American TV fare looks and sounds like reality TV. Little is left for the imagination.
Downton is packed with subtleties. The expressions and dialogue of the characters are delicate and intelligent. The characters are no less nasty, sometimes even brutal, than those on North American TV, but it is nastiness delivered with finesse.
One of the nastier characters is Thomas Barrow, the scheming under butler. He’s not likeable, but once into the story you realize he is struggling with his homosexuality, which was a crime in the 1920s. The viewer comes to understand why he is the way he is and develops compassion for him.
As devastating as Barrow is with cutting remarks, the show’s champion zinger slinger is unquestionably Lady Grantham, the aged mother of Robert Crawley, the earl of Downton. She is played by the famous British actress Maggie Smith.
One of her classic zingers is delivered early in Downton’s history when she is told that one of her granddaughters is entitled to her opinion.
“No, she isn't until she is married--then her husband will tell her what her opinions are.”
In another scene, her granddaughter Lady Mary tells her sharply:
“How many times am I to be ordered to marry the man sitting next to me at dinner.”
“As many times as it takes,” Lady Grantham shoots back.
All the characters in Downton Abbey are complex and well fleshed out. Dislikable as some are, the more you see of them the more likeable they become, despite their faults.
Lord Grantham is an example. He is a military man of honour and conviction and an upholder of British upper class beliefs. The world he knew is falling apart and he is not sure how to handle that.
Despite this he is not a stereotypical English aristocrat bitter about his lot. He displays compassion and treats his servants almost like family.
Downton Abbey is a flashback to a time no less complicated than today, but a time when life’s problems were faced not as an unfortunate victim, but as a determined person with quiet resolve.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
January 21, 2016
More Heat, Less Ice
St. Nora Lake has frozen over, finally. The ice was five inches thick at the start of this week. Great news for the snowmobile crowd and winter anglers.
That’s the latest freeze-up in the 30 years that I have known the lake. If this winter continues to be relatively mild, breakup could come earlier than usual. The earliest ice off was a couple of years ago when blue water appeared the last week of March.
Later freezes and earlier openings are becoming more frequent for Haliburton County lakes and raise concerns about what is happening with the world’s climate.
New research indicates that freshwater lakes are warming at twice the rate of the oceans. They get warmer as the length of winter ice cover time gets shorter.
The consequences of warmer lakes are being seen already: the decline of native fish, the arrival of invasive species, more algae and other changes that bring problems. St. Nora was a great lake trout lake when I first saw it in 1985. Today it is considered a better bass lake.
More than three in four lakes above the 40thparallel (roughly the latitude of New York) have had summer temperatures rise 2.7 degrees Fahrenheit between 1985 and 2009. Some lake temperatures have risen more than twice that.
This information comes from a the Global Lake Temperature Collaboration, a new international research group.
As of last week total ice cover on the Great Lakes was only 3.8 per cent. It was 22.5 per cent at the same time last year, 38.3 per cent in January, 2014.
The fastest warming Great Lake is Superior, which is 1,330 feet deep and holds 11 per cent of our world surface water supply. It has warmed 6.3 degrees Fahrenheit in the past 100 years. Most of the warming has occurred in the last 30 years.
Global warming non-believers say fluctuating temperatures and ice cover are normal and point to last year’s brutal winter. I remember it well – five consecutive mornings of minus 35 Celsius at St. Nora Lake. The previous year was no picnic either.
Temperatures do fluctuate but evidence continues to mount showing that the world is becoming seriously warmer.
Much the global warming focus has been on the Arctic where sea ice is becoming increasing thinner and younger. Air temperatures in the Arctic between October 2014 and September 2015 were more than three degrees above average in all seasons. The highest annual air temperature over land was plus 1.3 Celsius, the highest since 1900.
Land snow cover in the Arctic has decreased every year since 1979 and river discharges have increased during that time.
Looking at the weather forecast every day gives us an inaccurate picture of what is happening. For instance, the daily highs in Haliburton County for much of this week will be below the normal of minus five Celsius.
We consider that quite cold because the temperatures are below normal. However, that normal is based on records going back only 30 years to1985. If you looked at records going back 30 years before that, and even 30 years before 1955, you would find that the normals were much colder than now.
The world’s 20 warmest years recorded all have occurred since 1981. The 10 warmest years have occurred in the past 12 years.
The United Nations climate change conference in Paris last month agreed to do something to stop the rapid ice melt. The 196 nations at the conference accepted a 12-page document agreeing to reduce their carbon output "as soon as possible" and to do what they can to keep global warming "to well below 2 degrees C".
Don’t hold your breath. The Paris conference was all about politicians and bureaucrats.
Real change will come when citizens become alarmed by the mounting evidence, become willing to change lifestyles and demand that politicians take action.
Paris made enough noise around the world to create some hope that all that might begin to happen.
Here’s hoping. It’s nice to see St. Nora Lake open in December and March, but it’s not nice to think about the reasons why.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
That’s the latest freeze-up in the 30 years that I have known the lake. If this winter continues to be relatively mild, breakup could come earlier than usual. The earliest ice off was a couple of years ago when blue water appeared the last week of March.
Later freezes and earlier openings are becoming more frequent for Haliburton County lakes and raise concerns about what is happening with the world’s climate.
New research indicates that freshwater lakes are warming at twice the rate of the oceans. They get warmer as the length of winter ice cover time gets shorter.
The consequences of warmer lakes are being seen already: the decline of native fish, the arrival of invasive species, more algae and other changes that bring problems. St. Nora was a great lake trout lake when I first saw it in 1985. Today it is considered a better bass lake.
More than three in four lakes above the 40thparallel (roughly the latitude of New York) have had summer temperatures rise 2.7 degrees Fahrenheit between 1985 and 2009. Some lake temperatures have risen more than twice that.
This information comes from a the Global Lake Temperature Collaboration, a new international research group.
As of last week total ice cover on the Great Lakes was only 3.8 per cent. It was 22.5 per cent at the same time last year, 38.3 per cent in January, 2014.
The fastest warming Great Lake is Superior, which is 1,330 feet deep and holds 11 per cent of our world surface water supply. It has warmed 6.3 degrees Fahrenheit in the past 100 years. Most of the warming has occurred in the last 30 years.
Global warming non-believers say fluctuating temperatures and ice cover are normal and point to last year’s brutal winter. I remember it well – five consecutive mornings of minus 35 Celsius at St. Nora Lake. The previous year was no picnic either.
Temperatures do fluctuate but evidence continues to mount showing that the world is becoming seriously warmer.
Much the global warming focus has been on the Arctic where sea ice is becoming increasing thinner and younger. Air temperatures in the Arctic between October 2014 and September 2015 were more than three degrees above average in all seasons. The highest annual air temperature over land was plus 1.3 Celsius, the highest since 1900.
Land snow cover in the Arctic has decreased every year since 1979 and river discharges have increased during that time.
Looking at the weather forecast every day gives us an inaccurate picture of what is happening. For instance, the daily highs in Haliburton County for much of this week will be below the normal of minus five Celsius.
We consider that quite cold because the temperatures are below normal. However, that normal is based on records going back only 30 years to1985. If you looked at records going back 30 years before that, and even 30 years before 1955, you would find that the normals were much colder than now.
The world’s 20 warmest years recorded all have occurred since 1981. The 10 warmest years have occurred in the past 12 years.
The United Nations climate change conference in Paris last month agreed to do something to stop the rapid ice melt. The 196 nations at the conference accepted a 12-page document agreeing to reduce their carbon output "as soon as possible" and to do what they can to keep global warming "to well below 2 degrees C".
Don’t hold your breath. The Paris conference was all about politicians and bureaucrats.
Real change will come when citizens become alarmed by the mounting evidence, become willing to change lifestyles and demand that politicians take action.
Paris made enough noise around the world to create some hope that all that might begin to happen.
Here’s hoping. It’s nice to see St. Nora Lake open in December and March, but it’s not nice to think about the reasons why.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
January 14, 2016
Decoying for Ducks
I saw him from the corner of my eye. He was standing statue still, no more than 15 feet away, staring into a pile of snow-covered rocks.
He lunged forward, nose into the snow, and when he backed up, a chipmunk hung from the corner of his mouth. He ran down the trail, stopped and swallowed his meal.
That’s a real-life nature scene, I thought as I went back to what I was doing. When I lifted my head a couple of minutes later, there he was again, staring at me from a knoll not 20 feet away.
He was the most beautiful red fox I have seen in years. Young, probably born last spring, and absolutely prime. The fronts of his legs looked like he was wearing clean black stockings. His bushy tail was almost one-half his body length. His face with its long snout, pointed ears and mischievous eyes was one only his mother could love.
Most of the foxes I have seen in recent years have been emaciated – thin and weak. A couple have showed patches of bare skin where mange has taken the fur.
This one was curious and not displaying much fear. I held my hand toward him and clicked my tongue and he took a couple of cautious steps toward me. The hand was empty and I had nothing to offer so he backed off.
I wasn’t worried about being close to him. He was wildly healthy looking so I had little concern about rabies.
You have to admire foxes. They are clever hunters who always hunt alone. Their lives, which usually last only 18 to 24 months, are a perpetual search for food. And, they have clever ways of getting what they need to eat, one of the most clever of which is decoying ducks.
Ducks are difficult for foxes to catch because they usually are on the water or in the air. So foxes will cavort on a shoreline, rolling about and acting crazy. Ducks are curious critters and when they see the fox antics they paddle close to shore for a better look. When they get close enough the sly fox snags one.
Early Indians observed this and began using fox skins to attract ducks. They tied ropes to the tail and nose of the skin. Each end was taken by a hunter who hid behind a bush. The Indians would pull the rope back and forth making the skin move like a fox acting silly. When the ducks approached, the Indians would throw a net over them.
Although they prefer to burrow underground, foxes will sometimes climb trees and settle in low branches to snooze or watch for prey. They also are especially good at finding their way in the dark because they have excellent night vision, and they have whiskers on their legs that help them feel their way.
They usually are quiet animals but they have a variety of calls ranging from yips to a high-pitched scream made during the mating season.
Foxes are still hunted around the world as pests and for sport, although hopefully the days of killing a fox to put its tail on car radio aerial seem to be gone. Annual fox kills in Britain are said to be about 25,000 and a whopping 600,000 in Germany.
The British aristocracy still hasn’t been able to get past the cruel sport of running down foxes with hounds and horses. Britain banned hunting foxes with hounds in 2004 but the ban is widely ignored.
Members of the Royal family still have fox hunts, although they claim to use fox scent, not real foxes. A couple of years back people complained to police that a real fox was being chased by hounds and red jacketed horse riders during one of Prince’s Charles’ hunts.
Foxes, however, often are smarter than the hounds, horses and humans. Certainly they are more loyal parents. There was a report from England that a kit fox was caught in a trap for two weeks but survived because its mother brought it food every day.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
He lunged forward, nose into the snow, and when he backed up, a chipmunk hung from the corner of his mouth. He ran down the trail, stopped and swallowed his meal.
That’s a real-life nature scene, I thought as I went back to what I was doing. When I lifted my head a couple of minutes later, there he was again, staring at me from a knoll not 20 feet away.
He was the most beautiful red fox I have seen in years. Young, probably born last spring, and absolutely prime. The fronts of his legs looked like he was wearing clean black stockings. His bushy tail was almost one-half his body length. His face with its long snout, pointed ears and mischievous eyes was one only his mother could love.
Most of the foxes I have seen in recent years have been emaciated – thin and weak. A couple have showed patches of bare skin where mange has taken the fur.
This one was curious and not displaying much fear. I held my hand toward him and clicked my tongue and he took a couple of cautious steps toward me. The hand was empty and I had nothing to offer so he backed off.
I wasn’t worried about being close to him. He was wildly healthy looking so I had little concern about rabies.
You have to admire foxes. They are clever hunters who always hunt alone. Their lives, which usually last only 18 to 24 months, are a perpetual search for food. And, they have clever ways of getting what they need to eat, one of the most clever of which is decoying ducks.
Ducks are difficult for foxes to catch because they usually are on the water or in the air. So foxes will cavort on a shoreline, rolling about and acting crazy. Ducks are curious critters and when they see the fox antics they paddle close to shore for a better look. When they get close enough the sly fox snags one.
Early Indians observed this and began using fox skins to attract ducks. They tied ropes to the tail and nose of the skin. Each end was taken by a hunter who hid behind a bush. The Indians would pull the rope back and forth making the skin move like a fox acting silly. When the ducks approached, the Indians would throw a net over them.
Although they prefer to burrow underground, foxes will sometimes climb trees and settle in low branches to snooze or watch for prey. They also are especially good at finding their way in the dark because they have excellent night vision, and they have whiskers on their legs that help them feel their way.
They usually are quiet animals but they have a variety of calls ranging from yips to a high-pitched scream made during the mating season.
Foxes are still hunted around the world as pests and for sport, although hopefully the days of killing a fox to put its tail on car radio aerial seem to be gone. Annual fox kills in Britain are said to be about 25,000 and a whopping 600,000 in Germany.
The British aristocracy still hasn’t been able to get past the cruel sport of running down foxes with hounds and horses. Britain banned hunting foxes with hounds in 2004 but the ban is widely ignored.
Members of the Royal family still have fox hunts, although they claim to use fox scent, not real foxes. A couple of years back people complained to police that a real fox was being chased by hounds and red jacketed horse riders during one of Prince’s Charles’ hunts.
Foxes, however, often are smarter than the hounds, horses and humans. Certainly they are more loyal parents. There was a report from England that a kit fox was caught in a trap for two weeks but survived because its mother brought it food every day.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
January 7, 2016
2016: The Year of Living Differently?
That was nice. The last two months of the year filled with optimism, generated mostly by a new federal government. Lots of cooing and gushing about positive change.
And a cheery - albeit mild and snowless - Christmas season. I can still hear the echoes of Frank Sinatra crooning “Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” the tune that assures us that from now on our troubles will be out of sight.
Not quite. When we woke up New Year’s Day the world’s worries remained, looming tall and threatening. The largest is global warming, which should be obvious considering our scary December weather.
The Paris climate change summit last month left many people feeling more relaxed about the global warming threat. The summit of 196 countries agreed to slow the rate of global warming, although there were few specifics on how that might be done.
We have to be hopeful that the Paris agreement will set us on a path to saving our deteriorating planet. The odds are against us, however.
To begin with, the world relies on coal and oil for roughly two-thirds of its energy needs. There no longer is much doubt that continued uncontrolled use of both has the potential to make the earth uninhabitable.
World coal consumption declined in 2015, however many economic forecasters believe coal use will increase in coming years. Coal is abundant and far cheaper to produce power than oil or natural gas.
In 2013, the World Resources Institute estimated that 1,200 new coal-fired power plants were being planned throughout the world. The majority were in China and India, countries where economic growth is booming and demanding more power sources.
Coal is the key fuel in these two countries, and in many developing nations, and its use is expected to increase worldwide until at least 2020.
Also, the number of motor vehicles in the world surpassed one billion in 2010. Their number today is estimated at 1.2 billion and expected to double to 2.5 billion by 2050. Ninety-eight per cent of them burn gasoline or diesel.
With 2.5 billion vehicles, average fuel efficiency will have to double just to keep carbon emissions at today’s level. However, scientists suggest that we will need to cut average carbon emissions by 80 per cent to stabilize the impacts of global warming.
Coal and oil use are not the only threats to the world environment. The greatest threat is ourselves and our production-based lifestyle.
The Christmas season just passed is an example. The U.S. energy department estimates that decorative seasonal lights consume 6.6 billion kilowatt hours of electricity every year in that country. That is more than the total annual national electrical consumption of many developing countries.
This is one small example of the runaway consumerism and overproduction that our society needs to rethink. We need to talk about how we can live more simply with less.
We have made impressive advances in trying to control our pollution. Recycling, composting, solar and wind energy, automotive pollution controls are examples. But these are controls that slow, but not stop, our environmental degradation.
What we need is a change in attitude. An attitude that helps us understand that our planet does not exist only for us. It exists for everything. Everything in the world is connected and has a purpose, and everything deserves our respect.
I see lack of respect whenever I take a walk along Highway 35. The shoulders and ditches are strewn with beer and pop cans, water bottles, paper coffee cups, juice boxes, cigarettes packs and a variety of plastic containers.
On my walks I usually find one piece of garbage every 20 steps. All this is crap tossed from vehicle windows. It’s hard to imagine how we will stop global warming when people still throw garbage from carbon-emitting vehicles that are growing at an alarming rate.
Now there is talk of populating a new planet. That I guess goes with the thinking that when you fill one garbage dump you simply find another.
I like living here and don’t want to move. So instead of booking a seat on the first populating mission to Mars, I’ll try lessening my individual impacts on the world.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
And a cheery - albeit mild and snowless - Christmas season. I can still hear the echoes of Frank Sinatra crooning “Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” the tune that assures us that from now on our troubles will be out of sight.
Not quite. When we woke up New Year’s Day the world’s worries remained, looming tall and threatening. The largest is global warming, which should be obvious considering our scary December weather.
The Paris climate change summit last month left many people feeling more relaxed about the global warming threat. The summit of 196 countries agreed to slow the rate of global warming, although there were few specifics on how that might be done.
We have to be hopeful that the Paris agreement will set us on a path to saving our deteriorating planet. The odds are against us, however.
To begin with, the world relies on coal and oil for roughly two-thirds of its energy needs. There no longer is much doubt that continued uncontrolled use of both has the potential to make the earth uninhabitable.
World coal consumption declined in 2015, however many economic forecasters believe coal use will increase in coming years. Coal is abundant and far cheaper to produce power than oil or natural gas.
In 2013, the World Resources Institute estimated that 1,200 new coal-fired power plants were being planned throughout the world. The majority were in China and India, countries where economic growth is booming and demanding more power sources.
Coal is the key fuel in these two countries, and in many developing nations, and its use is expected to increase worldwide until at least 2020.
Also, the number of motor vehicles in the world surpassed one billion in 2010. Their number today is estimated at 1.2 billion and expected to double to 2.5 billion by 2050. Ninety-eight per cent of them burn gasoline or diesel.
With 2.5 billion vehicles, average fuel efficiency will have to double just to keep carbon emissions at today’s level. However, scientists suggest that we will need to cut average carbon emissions by 80 per cent to stabilize the impacts of global warming.
Coal and oil use are not the only threats to the world environment. The greatest threat is ourselves and our production-based lifestyle.
The Christmas season just passed is an example. The U.S. energy department estimates that decorative seasonal lights consume 6.6 billion kilowatt hours of electricity every year in that country. That is more than the total annual national electrical consumption of many developing countries.
This is one small example of the runaway consumerism and overproduction that our society needs to rethink. We need to talk about how we can live more simply with less.
We have made impressive advances in trying to control our pollution. Recycling, composting, solar and wind energy, automotive pollution controls are examples. But these are controls that slow, but not stop, our environmental degradation.
What we need is a change in attitude. An attitude that helps us understand that our planet does not exist only for us. It exists for everything. Everything in the world is connected and has a purpose, and everything deserves our respect.
I see lack of respect whenever I take a walk along Highway 35. The shoulders and ditches are strewn with beer and pop cans, water bottles, paper coffee cups, juice boxes, cigarettes packs and a variety of plastic containers.
On my walks I usually find one piece of garbage every 20 steps. All this is crap tossed from vehicle windows. It’s hard to imagine how we will stop global warming when people still throw garbage from carbon-emitting vehicles that are growing at an alarming rate.
Now there is talk of populating a new planet. That I guess goes with the thinking that when you fill one garbage dump you simply find another.
I like living here and don’t want to move. So instead of booking a seat on the first populating mission to Mars, I’ll try lessening my individual impacts on the world.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
December 24, 2015
The Unbreakable Spirit of Christmas Eve
Fresh-fallen snow protested beneath the crush of my gumboots breaking trail down the unploughed lane. Dry, sharp squeaks, not unlike the cries of cheap chalk cruelly scrapped against too clean a blackboard.
Skuur-eek, skuur-eek.
The boots ignored the sounds. They moved on, ribbed rubber bottoms and laced high leather tops creating a meandering wake in the ankle deep snow.
From each side of the trail, drifted snow leaned tiredly against the backsides of the bungalows, dropped there to rest by an impatient blizzard just passed through. Their crests were indistinguishable against the white stucco walls but nearly reached tufted piles of fluffy snow clinging nervously to windowsills and eavestrough lips.
The squeaks flew through the still night air, dodging fat flakes that fell heavy and straight onto my cap bill, but occasionally splashing into my face flushed warm from the walk. I could have rode back home from Christmas Eve Mass with the family, but the teenage mind always prefers independence, and it was a chance to visit friends along the way.
Faint strains of music joined the squeaking as I approached our back fence. I stopped to hear the music more clearly, now identifiable as singing voices escaping through an open window.
I shuffled forward and listened to the notes float out crisply and clearly, then mingle with smoke rising from the chimneys. Notes and smoke rose together into an icy sky illuminated by frost crystals set shimmering by thousands of stars and the frosty moon the Ojibwe called Minidoo Geezis, the little spirit moon that appears small and cold early in winter.
I held my breath to hear better and determined that the music was “O Holy Night,” and the notes came through the window in my grandmother’s room. It was open to the cold because most people smoked cigarettes back then and at gatherings cracked a window to thin the smoke.
They sang the first verse, and, when they reached the sixth line, the other voices ceased and one voice carried on alone:
“Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices! O Niiii ... iiight Diii...vine! ...” That’s the part where the notes rise higher and higher until the singer reaches an awesome note.
The solo voice belonged to my grandmother, and I knew she was hitting that high note while sitting on the edge of the bed that crippling rheumatoid arthritis had made her prison for sixteen years. She was unable to walk without assistance and had trouble holding a cigarette between her gnarled fingers.
The others had stopped singing to listen to her. The second time she hit the high notes at the words “O Night Divine,” a shiver danced on my spine. When she finished singing “O Holy Night,” the other voices started up again, this time with “Silent Night” and other favourite carols.
I went into the house and found Christmas Eve celebrants — my mom, dad, and some neighbours — crowded into the ten-by-ten bedroom that was my grandmother’s world. They sang long into the night, mostly in French because the neighbours were the Gauthiers who seldom spoke English to my grandmother and my mother.
After the singing ended my mother served tourtière, which I slathered with mustard. Then we gathered at the tree and opened our gifts.
I have long forgotten what present was under the tree for me. It doesn’t matter, because my real gift came many years later: the gift of realization that those high notes were not solely the products of the lungs. They were driven by something stronger than flesh — an unbreakable spirit. They came from strength far beyond anything that a mere body can produce.
The memory of that unbreakable spirit is the best Christmas gift that I receive every year.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
Skuur-eek, skuur-eek.
The boots ignored the sounds. They moved on, ribbed rubber bottoms and laced high leather tops creating a meandering wake in the ankle deep snow.
From each side of the trail, drifted snow leaned tiredly against the backsides of the bungalows, dropped there to rest by an impatient blizzard just passed through. Their crests were indistinguishable against the white stucco walls but nearly reached tufted piles of fluffy snow clinging nervously to windowsills and eavestrough lips.
The squeaks flew through the still night air, dodging fat flakes that fell heavy and straight onto my cap bill, but occasionally splashing into my face flushed warm from the walk. I could have rode back home from Christmas Eve Mass with the family, but the teenage mind always prefers independence, and it was a chance to visit friends along the way.
Faint strains of music joined the squeaking as I approached our back fence. I stopped to hear the music more clearly, now identifiable as singing voices escaping through an open window.
I shuffled forward and listened to the notes float out crisply and clearly, then mingle with smoke rising from the chimneys. Notes and smoke rose together into an icy sky illuminated by frost crystals set shimmering by thousands of stars and the frosty moon the Ojibwe called Minidoo Geezis, the little spirit moon that appears small and cold early in winter.
I held my breath to hear better and determined that the music was “O Holy Night,” and the notes came through the window in my grandmother’s room. It was open to the cold because most people smoked cigarettes back then and at gatherings cracked a window to thin the smoke.
They sang the first verse, and, when they reached the sixth line, the other voices ceased and one voice carried on alone:
“Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices! O Niiii ... iiight Diii...vine! ...” That’s the part where the notes rise higher and higher until the singer reaches an awesome note.
The solo voice belonged to my grandmother, and I knew she was hitting that high note while sitting on the edge of the bed that crippling rheumatoid arthritis had made her prison for sixteen years. She was unable to walk without assistance and had trouble holding a cigarette between her gnarled fingers.
The others had stopped singing to listen to her. The second time she hit the high notes at the words “O Night Divine,” a shiver danced on my spine. When she finished singing “O Holy Night,” the other voices started up again, this time with “Silent Night” and other favourite carols.
I went into the house and found Christmas Eve celebrants — my mom, dad, and some neighbours — crowded into the ten-by-ten bedroom that was my grandmother’s world. They sang long into the night, mostly in French because the neighbours were the Gauthiers who seldom spoke English to my grandmother and my mother.
After the singing ended my mother served tourtière, which I slathered with mustard. Then we gathered at the tree and opened our gifts.
I have long forgotten what present was under the tree for me. It doesn’t matter, because my real gift came many years later: the gift of realization that those high notes were not solely the products of the lungs. They were driven by something stronger than flesh — an unbreakable spirit. They came from strength far beyond anything that a mere body can produce.
The memory of that unbreakable spirit is the best Christmas gift that I receive every year.
Email: shaman@vianet.ca
Profile: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8FY3Y
