20 CENTS

20 cents.  That’s the cost of a single 9mm bullet if bought in bulk.  Is this truly the cost of a life today?  On Boxing Day (December 26th) a single bullet ended the life of Jane Crebra, 15, on Yonge Street in downtown Toronto.
 
Creba and her sister were out shopping for bargains when rival gangmembers opened fire on the crowded street.  Shots flew and, when the smoke cleared, young Jane was dead and six others were wounded.
 
What posesses people to put such a low cost on something as precious as a human life?  Do we blame the economy, our proximity to the US where handguns are easily obtained or society in general?  It’s easy to point at the number of socially disadvantaged single parent homes and prevelance of violence on TV, in films and in video games but somewhere along the way it appears that an entire generation lost the most basic of human values.  The value of life.
 
Everyone from church and youth leaders to politicians is crying that we have to do something to stem the worsening gun violence on our streets.  Do what?  Ban handguns, say some.  If someone wants a handgun, they’ll get one.  Tighten the laws?  I don’t think that someone who is willing to spend 20 cents to kill someone really cares all that much about themselves.  Certainly the courts could do a better job by applying the sentences we already have on the books but, again, I really don’t think that will scare some of these people off.  The problem is – they just don’t care.  How do we change that? 
 
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TRAGEDY, SORROW AND THE BLOGOSPHERE

Over at Lifehacker, someone asked the question – Is a blog a suitable vehicle for sharing information about a serious illness or death in the family? I don’t know what others think but I was glad that I had this outlet when my sister passed away a few months ago. The news came suddenly and a fast trip to England was necessary. We were separated from the rest of our family by an ocean and 5 time zones.

Keeping people up to date was a way for me to channel some of my grief and I heard from a number of relatives, friends and strangers who appreciated the updates and left comforting comments. This blog doesn’t really have a theme but quite a few of my posts have dealt with personal matters. Posting is sometimes hard, especially when the subject is difficult, but in general I find the experience of committing my thoughts to the web to be cathartic.

THE HORRORS OF SEAT 29E

Presented here in its glorious technicolour goodness, an actual complaint letter sent to Continental Airlines by a passenger seated near the toilet on one of their flights.  The veracity of the letter has been confirmed by the fact checkers over at Snopes.  You can also view the original PDF document (complete with pictures) here.
 Dear Continental Airlines,

I am disgusted as I write this note to you about the miserable experience I am having sitting in seat 29E on one of your aircrafts. As you may know, this seat is situated directly across from the lavatory, so close that I can reach out my left am and touch the door.

All my senses are being tortured simultaneously. It’s difficult to say what the worst part about sitting in 29E really is? Is it the stench of the sanitation fluid that’s blown all over my body every 60 seconds when the door opens? Is it the wooosh of the constant flushing? Or is it the passengers asses that seem to fit into my personal space like a pornographic jig-saw puzzel?

I constructed a stink-shield by shoving one end of a blanket into the overhead compartment — while effective in blocking at least some of the smell, and offering a small bit of privacy, the ass-on-my-body factor has increased, as without my evil glare, passengers feel free to lean up against what they think is some kind of blanketed wall. The next ass that touches my shoulder will be the last!

I am picturing a board room full of executives giving props to the young promising engineer that figured out how to squeeze an additional row of seats onto this plane by putting them next to the LAV. I would like to flush his head in the toilet that I am close enough to touch, and taste, from my seat.

Putting a seat here was a very bad idea. I just heard a man groan in there! This sucks!

Worse yet, is I’ve paid over $400.00 for the honor of sitting in this seat!

Does your company give refunds? I’d like to go back where I came from and start over. Seat 29E could only be worse if it was located inside the bathroom.

I wonder if my clothing will retain the sanitizing odor . . . what about my hair! I feel like I’m bathing in a toilet bowl of blue liquid, and there is no man in a little boat to save me.

I am filled with a deep hatred for your plane designer and a general dis-ease that may last for hours.

We are finally decending, and soon I will be able to tear down the stink-shield, but the scars will remain.

I suggest that you initiate immediate removal of this seat from all of your crafts. Just remove it, and leave the smouldering brown hole empty, a good place for sturdy/non-absorbing luggage maybe, but not human cargo.
I have had the “pleasure” of being seated near the lavatory on a number of flights and I feel this person’s pain.  My most memorable experience was at the back of a Lufthansa 747 flying back from Frankfurt.  About 2 hours into the flight, the flight attendants had to close the lavatory closest to me and it was allowed to stew for the rest of the flight.  Not much food was consumed in my section.
 
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OFF THE FLOOR

Well I just spent my last night sleeping on Alan’s floor.  We’re off to a hotel near Heathrow airport for a few days.  My back will enjoy the luxury of a real bed.
 
Yesterday, the girls took the ferry across to Southampton while Alan and I generally took things easy and he cleaned up some of the administrative work that comes with a time like this.  Spent half the day looking for an internet connection that would let me VPN into the corporate system but couldn’t get one that would allow it.   Hopefully I’ll have better luck in the hotel.
 
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THE MORNING AFTER

Well we all survived the ceremony yesterday.  I nearly lost it when I was reading my pieces in the church. Everything was fine until I looked at my mother and her grief and pain tore my heart.  
 
The service was beautiful.  We were met at the front of the church by a Scottish piper.  Susan’s coffin was draped in a Canadian flag; 2 nice touches.  The church, which was built in 1843, seemed to have everyone from the entire village in attendance with lots of friends and relatives as well.  
 
The ride to the crematorium was long due to traffic but the ceremony there was brief.  Then it was back to the Pilgrim’s Inn for a celebration for Susan.  I met lots of people (whos’ names I unfortunately immediately forgot), we had a few drinks and a little nibble and everyone generally had a fine time remembering Susan’s humor, warmth and love.
 
All in all, a wonderful but very emotional day.
 
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HOW AMERICAN ARE YOU?

Tourist
You scored 24 Patriotic, 29 Lazy, 8 Power Hungry, and 75 General Knowledge!
Congrats!
You know a lot about America, without actually possessing the personal
stereotypical American characteristics. Perhaps you are an American who
simply doesn’t act as lazy and power hungry as most of the others. Or
perhaps you googled a few questions to get some answers..or maybe you
just paid attention in class?


My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
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You scored higher than 7% on Patriotic
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You scored higher than 50% on Lazy
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You scored higher than 50% on Power Hungry
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You scored higher than 7% on Gen Knowledge

Link: The Just How American Are You? Test written by g_nome on Ok Cupid

THE FAILURE OF HUMANITY

Product Image: Shake Hands With The Devil
My rating: 5 out of 5

Just finished this book by Canadian General Romeo Dallaire who led the United Nations peackeeping force in the early 90′s during the genocidal civil war in Rawanda.

Dallaire returned to Canada a broken man haunted by the images of hundreds of thousands of murdered men, women and especially the children. Suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, he attempted suicide before finally confronting the demons and returning to the war torn country. This book is his testament to the horrors and the heroism that marked the futile attempt by a small band of dedicated soldiers to maintain the peace in a country gone mad.

Dallaire was just appointed to the Canadian Senate where he promises to be a vocal proponent for human rights.

SLEEPING NEXT TO THE ELEPHANT

Maybe it’s the books I’ve been reading. More than likely it’s the daily news. I find myself getting more and more uneasy as I cast my eye south of the border.

Courts have upheld the ban on the importing of Canadian beef into the US and our ranchers are suffering. The Canuck farm in general is in a bad way as evidenced by a rolling protest into downtown Toronto by tractors to rail against the perceived failure of Provinical and Federal governments to protect those who put the food on our tables.

At the same time, Prime Minister Martin’s decision to opt out of the Missle Shield lunacy is threatening our already shaky relations with Washington and the “unbiased” American media delights as portraying us as defenseless igloo dwellers who will be sorry when they don’t have Uncle Sam to protect them. The chances of a defensive missle shooting down an incoming ICBM are less than 50-50 but that doesn’t stop the military industrial machine from scaring billions out of the US taxpayer to fund the most expensive skeet shoot ever imagined. Let the Boeings and Rayethons build their toys, we don’t need them.

The war in Iraq continues with another milestone reached. Last week, the 1500th American death was reported. Funny that we didn’t hear anything about the estimated 16 to 18 thousand Iraqi civilians who have died over the same period but that doesn’t appear to count for much as long as the US makes the country safe for “democracy”. Again, Canada is in the doghouse for not helping out. Just because we realized that this liberation is actually an illegal occupation as defined in the UN charter. Pax Americana must continue and, if we don’t like it, we’d better get used to keeping our cows north of the 49th.

Meanwhile, the US continues to spend money like a drunken sailor. Their deficit is massive and the power of their dollar is being rapidly overshadowed by the growth of the Euro. War is expensive and sooner than later the rest of the world will have to start pulling their investments out of an economy that is built on sand and IOUs that the American youth are going to have to pay. I have no idea how Canada will resist being sucked into the recession that will surely happen and that scares the shit out of me as I get closer to retirement.

Some say that Canada needs to move quickly to patch up our differences with the US. Certainly, we need to be on cordial terms with our neighbour but in no way does that mean that we have to kowtow. We need to broaden our trade horizons, maintain our status as a peacekeeper and continue to express our moderate views. The world needs Canada even if some American politicians and commentators try and paint us as ungrateful and weak.

TICK, TICK, TICK

The countdown is on. At 5:00 this afternoon I begin my winter vacation and don’t get back to the office until the New Year. Oh bliss!

Of course I’ll be working from home, business never stops when you’re in IT, but just being away is enough of a holiday for me. I’ll have time to do my Christmas shopping, do some things around the house and just generally goof off. Who knows, I may even find some time and energy to update this site a little more often than I have been.

Next Friday, we’re off to Maxine’s for Christmas. 3 days in the woods should do something for my spirit.