Monday 13 May 2013

Spring is in the air, get excited about something


I sit now at a desk in a quiet room and even wonder what words will roll from my fingertips to the page you will see on your monitor. Will I bore you? Will you find me an arrogant hack and never come back again? Over 800 readers that appear now and again according to whoever is keeping score for me. Few respondents and once again, am I too judgemental am I too much of a know it all? Or are people just disinterested. I believe there is a lot of disinterest in all things in Canada that involve social, economic, and political issues. I once worked to raise awareness among young people and encourage that they could make change happen. Leadership! Carpe diem! Some I hope have taken a firm grasp on the things that I and others demonstrated to them and do show more of an interest in the things that matter to them on various  political levels. But some of them, too, put paid to the old adage "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing" Perhaps they want to ring in change, but they are ships with sextant or compass on a cloudy night. they have no polestar to guide them Still others have found a tried and true way for at least moving their own agenda forward, pick a smaller pond, determine if it's worth it to you and stage a coup. As bloodless as possible of course, but power never really is shared, it's always taken. In those few situations, one has to wonder how the perpetrators of the coup manage to work together with trust afterward. I once used to share an expression with people in an office where individuals gossiping had become quite a problem. "If a person will gossip with you, they will gossip about you" Does no one else see that statement extrapolates to the person who will cut your throat (metaphorically...at least thus far) or destroy your reputation? I wish those who use this level of avarice to push forward their own greed based agendas all the luck in the world. In time, they'll need it. That has always been my opinion of people who move ahead thus, they are blindered by short range vision. My advice to them is see Reservoir Dogs.

My mood as a sit sipping my tea and enjoy the quiet of the house is one of a bit of melancholia. I have joined a couple of online presences to hopefully find that lively debate I sought. As I entered into a realm where the participants are obviously a little more gifted with use of the language and engaged in looking at some of the larger concepts in life, I was quite happy. I thought I had moved away from the vitriol, anger and bitterness of some of the news sites where people go immediately on the attack with insults instead of offering compelling or thoughtful counter-arguments. I found instead they just use a much higher level of insult. People too often seem incapable of rising up above their own pettiness and bruised egos to consider that someone might challenge how they feel about pretty much anything. Rather like, all opinions are welcomed as long as they agree with mine. some of the threads I've found are simply astonishing. Over 500 comments on the difference between a good leader and a good strategy and what is more important of the two. Well, I've got an answer for what works for neither of the two: having to go through 500 redundant and superfluous responses to make a decision.

A piece of news that I received last week is what got me thinking about all these things. Leadership and the ever reaching tentacles of apathy. It's always interesting to see people scrambling to prove to their constituents that what they are doing is noteworthy and not wasted, that the apathy is not deserved. It all called to mind some of the things that I have drawn upon in leadership discussions in the past. Julius Caesar was one of my all time favorites as a leader and I have drawn upon his statesmanship often, but things did end badly for Julius. I am given to recalling that Shakespearean scene where Marc Antony pokes his finger through the blood drenched hole in Caesar's robe and quotes 'and Brutus, as we know, was Caesar's angel.' Don't it always seem to go.....So, anyway, I've always also been a bit of a fan of General MacArthur, he made a comeback in WW2 and beat the Japanese all the way back to Japan, never got credit for it because his bosses decided to use Japan to test out their new atomic toys. MacArthur was often referred to as the American Caesar, there was an excellent movie made about his life in 1977 with Gregory Peck in the title role. Here's a wee clip from the and of the movie, when Eisenhower gets elected US President; I find the scene at home with his wife most poignant:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UommQEnknQg

Thursday 9 May 2013

I was busy

So, I'm back. I watched a television series recently wherein Kevin Spacey plays an extremely manipulative and power hungry senator. I hope there are more than the original thirteen episodes, I thought it was quite good. A close friend who lives in another community watched part of it also and she commented to me that, after watching the various power plays and the manner in which these DC power chasers each play one another so underhandedly, that she had a better understanding of some of the things I've had to deal with in one of my previous careers. I actually got to take away from one episode a lesson about my friends. Spacey does a brief soliloquy on those who work in the capitol whether politicos or lobbyists or whoever pursuing money to those who pursue real power. He compares the money chasers to the ten year old mansions one sees around the city that are already starting to crack and their finishes peel, whereas those pursuing real power he compares to the two hundred year old estates around the outskirts of the city whose houses are as strong and breathtaking beautiful as when they were built. I ran into a situation just recently where I had to reach out to someone for some personal help. I went to some of my dearest friends in Portage and they gave me a hand getting out of the problem at the time, without question. It led me to think how many of what I thought were friendships were like those ten year old cheap façade mansions and how few like the grand old estate. How many relationships built with so called friends have their foundations in shifting sands? The sands of self-interest, greed, fear, or hypocrisy. How few are the friendships based on a foundation built on bedrock. I know about bedrock I grew up on the surface of the Precambrian shield.
There are certainly a lot more in that class of friends who, well let's just say are of the shifting sand variety and there is certainly a variety of responses when I bump into them I am certain several wish that I would pack up and leave town and some act accordingly. How about a media representative who used to call me every second day for quotes and now doesn't have the time of day? How about a high level bureaucrat who pretends he doesn't see me coming  and studies cheap pink electric guitars on the display wall at Walmart so he doesn't have to talk. Better still are the person  who races up with a big, fat bouncy smile to say hello and tell me how bad the kids miss me. Should have thought of that before you engineered how to get rid of me, but c'est la vie. I don't think a person in that position qualifies for having hurt feelings because all I gave were the most perfunctory of responses. Funny old world, my Dad used to say and then he'd chuckle just to prove his point. Anyway, these are just a few observations I've had around town. I feel fairly certain that if people had their own agendas to implement in any of the organisations for which I used to serve, their work is done now and they can get back to business.

In other news, I had to the distinct pleasure of dining with a couple who are probably around eighteen on nineteen. Nice, clean cut, fairly bright Canadian kids. A conversation started up about the rights of First Nations people as recently as the sixties and even the early seventies. they had no idea of the history of Canada and the abuses that Native people have had to tolerate and I didn't even get started on residential school. I sort of turned their minds toward politics and PM Harper for a few minutes and challenged them with the question of how far is Harper, with his treatment of native leaders and his policies toward native communities from the man who was his mentor (Preston Manning's dad) who's policy was 'assimilate or die" Now we have Harper trying to incorporate native communities and make them into town. Sounds kind of assimilated to me.  My conversation with the young couple turned to the other tow national options. I spent a few minutes going over what attack ads are and how effectively the CONs employed them last time. From the response I got, I don't think Harper running early attacked ads on JT will do him a lot of good. Nice to get some stuff out there, I hope a few of you drop me a line, (not literally, literally dropping a line is fishing, it's not like that here.

Monday 25 February 2013

As Canadian as Maple Syrup

A woman was shot in her home and exsanguinated while a RCMP officer sat in his car and did nothing. His rationale? The neighborhood looked ok to him. His punishment? Docked one day's pay. Women's groups continue to harangue and plague federal and urban police services over their lack of interest in missing and murdered women. The most common response I've seen from my 'fellow Canadians'? Oh well, just a bunch of bitching Indians. The women's groups I mentioned try to represent all murdered and missing women, but mainstream Canada doesn't want to hear it.

Our federal government has an economic action plan. If you've missed out on hearing about it, you must have been hibernating. From what I've seen of it personally, it's a pretty good plan and they've managed to channel some stimulus dollars into some very worthwhile projects. It could be a lot better, but having said that, it's better than anything I've seen the US come up with lately. So, what's my bitch? If it's a government program, then good, that's what you were elected to do. Stop using our tax dollars to campaign with. Period. What are Canadians doing about it every time these ads show up on their televisions? Probably just changing channels. Your tax dollars at work.

What's as Canadian as maple syrup? Apathy. As soon as I get a chance at looking at some more local stuff, I'll get on it. For those of you happy with the status quo, hang in there, everything's going according to plan.

Saturday 2 February 2013

COMING SOON

TO THIS BLOG SITE!!! LIVE WEB CAMS FEATURING....GIRL! GIRLS! GIRLS!

HOT YOUNG MODELS LEARNING THE REALITIES OF LIFE THE 'HARD' WAY!!

GROUP ORGIES ON REAL TIME LIVE STREAMING....


No, not really. I would never do that, I really just wanted to get attention and thought I'd try this out. I hear it works pretty well for other sites and it is kind of what I want to write about. I have a question. Are people really, seriously that taken with the absolute lowest and basest levels of so-called 'entertainment' or for that matter 'news' that the media outlets of the world feel compelled to keep pandering to them? I'm not just referring to web porn either here sports fans, quick show of hands, how many people saw all the Freddie/Nightmare on Elm Street movies? Ok, ok,...now quick, name three plays by O. Henry. Hmmm, numbers dropped a little. Why is the novel Ulysses considered by many to be the greatest novel ever written? No one? That's depressing, how many out there can name the star of "Deep Throat" Ah ha, I have my audience back

HOT YOUNG VIRGINS CAUGHT ON CAMERA!!!

Sorry about that,  didn't want to lose your attention just yet...thanks for hanging in there. The reason I bring these things up is because when I have a question, it generally leads to other questions. For instance, can anyone guess why shows like Maury and Springer and Dr. Phil even get huge ratings? Do you know who's watching them? The same people who are watching Intervention and I better stop I'm going to get sued. People who want to see other people whose lives are worse than theirs. It isn't the pot calling the kettle black so much as the pot watching the kettle burning on the fire. I can feel better about having stepped in you know what if I can point at you and say you fell in it. No need for me to get better. That same level of thought process makes people want to a) know everything they're dishing about celebs, b) pick up just the goriest details on the news, and c) imagine that those porn stars are enjoying themselves and that they could have a sex life just like that if only whoever is parked beside them on the couch would sober up and lose 30 pounds.

I know, I've addressed some of these thing in previous articles, but it's late and I'm tired and kind of bored and I never promised anyone creativity on here. I just asked people to respond with intelligent opinions, that may have been a mistake but I digress. What, asks the enraged public minded citizen can we do to change this? Well, for a---I'm just really happy when I see those trade magazines at retail outlets or those gossip sites on the Internet and I have no idea who the featured attraction is, for b---I'll get back to you on that, and for c--it isn't going to happen so go review your wedding vows and remember what you loved about them back then. Those porn stars are all stoned by the way.

As for b...my next question. Do you know who Ted Bundy was? Of course, right?  You can even find 'rare death photos' of him on the web. He's a celebrity just as much as LiLo. He's a real life Freddy Krueger, wow. Can you name any of his victims off the top of your head? Me neither. It's something you ...and you....and you...I can see your silhoutted heads bobbing up and down out there...can do something about. Serial killers are apparently all around us. Police forces have an abyssmal record of catching them Canadian police forces would probably have a better record if they actually tried.  Do you remember the names of Picton's victims? What do you remember? That the media focused over and over and over again on the fact that they almost all worked 'in the sex trade'. They're dead, why is that still relevant? To make the good cleancut girls feel safe? Nobody in history has ever looked at her parents with wonderously wide innocent eyes at the age of eight and said "I want to be a whore when I grow up" Here's what you can do, and you, and you...yeah. Write a letter, or an email, to your member of Parliament or legislative assembly. Tell them. DO NOT allow these creeps names to be publicized. Ever. There is no need. And often, way too often, it's what they wanted in the first place. When, in the rare instances that they actually get caught, one these creeps is, all the public needs to know really, is that we're safe from at least that one. Try them in closed court, don't let the press or the public have access and then drop them down the deepest hole you have. There's no reason not to. What will the response be if MP's across the country all started getting that same demand? A whole bunch of MP's racing to be the first to write that bill. Where's our tough on crime Prime Minister going to take this? I don't know, but I do know this, if the public doesn't demand it, no one will do anything. Tell your friends. Get involved, get others involved. If you really want to continue accessing the lower forms of entertainment and news, there will be plenty of other outlets still available. Stop the glorification of perverse violence. Do something. I dare you.

Thursday 24 January 2013

Oh my goodness, what a shocker

I should clear something up. I'm not a cynic, if you want to learn what a cynic is, go study philosophy. Nor am I a pessimist, I don't automatically think things are going to always turn out for the worst. I'm nost a 'glass is half empty' kind of guy. I'm a sceptic. Some people would say I'm a skeptic, but they never learned how to spell. People then think I am by nature suspicious of everything in the world around me. Again, untrue. I am fearful for the lack of use of the human intellect and I question why those conditions exist. For instance, ...here's my chance to say I told you so. I recently wrote an article (scroll down, you'll find it) being all of the above about online dating. Yes, I was, sceptical, cynical and pessimistic. Suspicioius and fearful. All of those things, yep, I should be embarrassed. But then, I see this:

http://ca.news.yahoo.com/video/report-match-com-sued-10-135313269.html

Please feel free to take time to check it out and get back to me. I find particularly poignant the creepy guy's quote "I wasn't there to hurt her, I was there to kill her." How very reassuring for the victim..."this won't hurt a bit" Yeah, that's what dentists tell me too, and they're always lying. I also recently saw a story where a man told his two pre-pubescent daughters who wanted a dog that they could have one if they could get over a million response hits on FaceBook supporting them. They did. This is wonderful, I thought to myself, remember the day when  a support phone call from Grandpa and Grandma would have done the trick? A million people contacting tow children who haven't even reached puberty, what a smart Dad. I hope the dog he got them is an attack dog for when wicked Uncle Ernie shows up from Peoria to harvest their kidneys. Think about it Dad, try hugging your laptop, now try hugging a puppy. Yeah, and you want your kids to spend more time on social media. Drive carefully, sir.

So, I digressed a bit. That shouldn't surprise anyone who's ever read anything I've written. Back to the cyber-date from hell. She's suing Match.com for $10 million. She's a real estate agent. She can broker seven and eight digit deals and make sure all the t's are crossed and i's dotted and that the deed is signed over and the money properaly escrowed and the provenance is duly noted on the land, but she doesn't have the sense to get a background check on some guy she met online. Lawyers know private investigators, realtors work with lawyers all the time. I wonder if she's disassociative like that because her parents wouldn't get her a puppy when she was seven. Oh well. That's not what's important.

Here's what's important. All the people out there who lapse automatically into that strange zone of thinking that has probably gotten more people killed, injured and pregnant in life than any other. That wonderful little unconscious thought "it won't happen to me" OK, except it wasn't going to happen to her either, but it did. Over thirty....that could be a response to an age question on a dating site or it could be the number of killings both Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy are credited with, you choose. Ted raped his victims. Hey, Geoffrey Dalmer ate his. If he was too full to finish, he pickled their remains. To Mr. Dalmer, if you weren't part of the problem, you were part of the solution.  It wasn't going to happen to any of those people either. Here's another highlight, Gacy, Dalmer and Bundy and many of their ilk have something else in common. They didn't have access to dating sites to help them search out victims. We don't put adults pictures on the backs of milk cartons, do we?

You realize with a $10 million dollar lawsuit they're now facing, the dating site would have been better of if he'd succeeded?

But it's never going to happen to you, right? So hey, put on your sexiest outfit and your hottest looking contacts or glasses and clean up or get on your best make up or whatever it is you need to do, and get out there. Plenty of people out there that aren't perving around to eviscerate folks. I always wondered if once people have published profiles they can't find each other. Something a little murky on the screen? Get out there and strut your online stuff, make 'em match this dotcom. Be the flashiest little fishy in the pond. Remember, no one wants to hurt you.....

Friday 4 January 2013

Dear friends

If you leave a comment just to say 'hello' leave an email address and I can respond, your addresses don't show up with your comments and if your comments aren't about the article I''m not publishing them Of course I will never publish anyone else's information.

Wednesday 26 December 2012

More holiday season disappointments

Ah, the sweet blessings of anasthesia. I had to go for a surgical procedure on the 20th and spent most of the next two days meandering in and out of oblivion, clutching lightly to the coattails of beloved Euphoria as she flitted twixt and fro, finally depositing me back with ever so light a clunk into reality in the wee small hours of the 22nd. Some people suggest that I don't handle anasthetics well at all. I suggest quite the opposite, but this time-- I immediately knew that danger was afoot.

The world ended on the 21st. Those miscreant misanthrope Mayans promised!

As I stared up into the darkened room a ghastly and pallid figure suddenly loomed over me in my bed. I leapt into action, ripping the ridiculous faux wood top off of that stupid thing they always have beside your hospital bed that is too small to use as a table and too big to not be in the way. I swung with all my might, clearing the brain-sucking zombie's head off of it's shoulders with one gruesome bloody swipe. Advantage Alcorn, you cadaverous fiends. Or so it seemed to me; to the nurse checking my blood pressure I probably looked like some feeble weakling groping helplessly for a Kleenex. No zombies. No zombocalypse. Quelle disappointement! (I don't think that was really French, but it looked cool there)

By dawn, I had come to realize that it was true, I was just another guy stuck in post-op and the world was chugging along as usual. I became bombarded several time a day with insistent whiny demands that I: get out of bed, go for a walk, sit in an armchair, live on jello and sit in an armchair. They were big on the armchair. These demands were foisted upon me by usually rather attractive (in that cookie cutter vacuous stare kind of attractive way) young women who apparently had received post-secondary educations that included learning to speak to your patients like your working at BP's or TGIF's or Appleby's (Hi! I'm Kandra, I'm going to be your nurse this morning! Isn't that great? Would you like a couple of minutes to look over the....no, wait, that's the other job...) Converssations tended to go like this:

"OK, let's get you off that bed and sitting in the chair"
"Uh, sitting really hurts, how about if I get off the bed and just stand around?"
"Great! then after that, maybe we can get you sitting in the chair!"

That was pretty much the level of conversation across the board. Try getting solid food out of such folk when somebody wrote liquid diet on your chart 2 days before. "But that was two days ago, I'm really hungry"..."Great, maybe we can get you to go sit in the chair!" I actually got to hear a physiotherapist telling a man who was close to 60 to do his breathing exercises by ....brace yourselves..."Smell the flowers, blow out the birthday candles" Like asking him to inhale through his nose and exhale out his mouth was going to be too hard for him to understand. It made me yearn for the zombies.

But all's well that ends well and after four days that felt like a month I escaped the clutches of those ham fisted poltroons which are the best and the brightest of socialist medical care and was escorted home by a friend, well, acquaintance. Please don't get me wrong. This fellow did me a huge favor and I am sincerely grateful. The drive home, however, should have been prefaced with a couple extra shots of morphine so that I could have really enjoyed the nuances of the conversation. Is it just me or has anyone else noticed the the end-of-the-worlders, New World Order alarmists, and general conspiracy theoristas all seem to fit under one big happy down filled blanket together? I got to listen to "well turns out the Mayans had it wrong this time,...." I'm not kidding. It's the EMP that's going to get us, he's been studying Nostradamus' predictions. He's also convinced himself that his 99 Caddy is one of the few cars that can repel the giant EMP when the rest of the world is blacking out or frying or whatever is going to happen. I asked him what good that would do him with everyone else dropping dead behind the wheel at 70mph simultaneously. It stumped him long enough to get him restarted on North Korea starting the next global conflagration. The only thing missing is the tinfoil hat. But it also made me think, this guy seems happiest when he's got the end of the world to worry about. I'm pretty sure he's not alone. We can rail and shake our fists at the sky and curse our lack of political leadership over the wrongs of our world. We can shed true and sincere tears for those who fall for no apparent reason in harm's way and legislators turn a blind eye to the real problems behind the symptoms. We can feel nauseated by the hatred and discrimination, racism, sexism, blundering bureacracies (health care!) but the end of the world?  Hey, whattya gonna do?

After having had a couple of days to sleep off my usual caste of cynicism and my decidely jaundiced view of the world, I realized something else. We are learning more and more every day to be desensitized to real world ending events. The news beats us down with mass shootings, with children being murdered, with some nut job shooting at firemen, with serial rapists and murderers romping around willynilly.  Why? Why is a culture of violence not only tolerated, but celebrated? When I was a child John Wayne was going to save us, he didn't but Clint and Charlie and Bruce and Sly and Arnie all stood in line to take his place and whoever is the matinee idol now. So we celebrate violence as a way of life. Want to stop the shooters? Shoot them! Utah school teachers are being offered weapons training. Have we really come to this?  When I was a child I was taught that my father's generation stopped evil and used violence to do it. Maybe that ingrained the notion in our minds, but then something much smaller in scale, but perhaps not scope happened and I think it influenced a world's thinking and that impact is still felt. Novemeber 22, 1963, Dealey Plaza, Dallas Texas. If someone can kill the President, then it's ok to kill..... Maybe the world did end, we're just the last twitching nerves. Certainly, if anyone reading this believes that we were created by some manner of Supreme Being, what we are today cannot be what that Being envisioned.

On a somewhat lighter note, what is up with those stupid little rolling bedside table things in hospital rooms? All of my life, except from changing the tops from an ugly puke green metal to an ugly fake woodgrain metal, they've never changed. Do you think somebody that...like..makes things could go...hey, these tables are too  narrow to be good for anything and start making them a few inches wider? Seriously, this could be a big business if somebody just got on it. You could even recylce the old ones to make new ones out of the parts, eco-friendly. Where are all the budding entrepreneurs out there?