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Hi, Maria:

Just thought I’d drop you a note to acknowledge your kind offer of my Golden Predictions for 2011, along with the Biomagnetic Bracelet and Moonlight Blue Sapphire Jewelry set, for $29 including handling and first-class shipping and $1.38 GST.

Hey, the picture of the Bracelet looks really cool! I like the jewelry set too–even though I’m not sure why you included the certificate of authenticity when I haven’t even ordered the set yet.

You see, Maria, you’re right about the bad luck and money problems. I guess you saw that in my Astral Chart. I’m a big time loser in just about anything–life–love–money. Especially those damn penny stocks! And right now, I really need that bracelet, but the $29 is sort of steep.

I’m writing this because I thought maybe–just maybe–we could do a deal. You see, I’ve got this Magic Stone that was my grandmother’s. It’s not much to look at –you might even think I found it in the backyard last spring. But it was my grandmother’s–and she wore it in a special locket around her neck all her life. She lived, fit as a fiddle, to 98, and said it was the Magic Stone that accounted for her great health. First sign of the sniffles, or arthritis (Knock, knock. Who’s there? Arthur. Arthur who? Arthuritis–her favourite joke)-- out would come the Magic Stone!

A few rubs of the Magic Stone and her symptoms would disappear!

Maria, she gave me the Magic Stone on her deathbed. I know it’s magic, because, if you hold it for a few minutes, you can feel the warmth from my grandmother’s hand!

There’s only one catch. When she gave me the stone, grandma told me it wouldn’t work for me.

"Idel, my little kindershmaltzen," --that was her favourite name for me–"Idel," she said, "this won’t work for you–your Astral Chart is so f-ck-d up (Grandma was a master–or should I say mistress-- of the Obscenity Ellipsis) that bad luck and money problems will be the bane of your existence. You will lose money on penny stocks until the day you die. You were born under the sign of Taurus on the cusp of Jupiter, with a lucky number of Two–I’m sorry, my little kindershmaltzen–but basically, you’re scr-w-d."

So, Maria, you can see why I’m writing to you now. How about a straight trade: the Magic Stone for the Biomagnetic Bracelet? Send me the Bracelet, and I solemnly promise to send you the Stone. I do hope to hear from you soon.

Just one other thing, Maria–I have to confess I didn’t realize how famous you are. I sort of figured you were this gifted, slightly eccentric patrician lady–probably with links to Russian Royalty–forced by circumstance to operate a little business from the basement of her Woodbridge, Ontario home. I remember seeing the picture of that terrible smashed-up car–the crash which you miraculously survived–and imagined your determination to re-build your life, one Biomagnetic Bracelet at a time. But no! Your little business is operated world-wide, with tentacles–well–maybe branches is a better term–into the remote places of the planet!

But Maria–well I’m sure you have seen this by looking at your own Astral Chart–there are dangerous forces at work which may bring you harm. Just google your own name-- there are those who say you don’t really exist, and you are actually just a character created by a business devoted entirely to scamming the gullible public.

I know that isn’t true, Maria. I have seen your picture, and the mangled wreckage of that car. But you need the Magic Stone. I think you need it soon. There are those calling for a shutting down of the UPS mailing address in Woodbridge, and government prosecution. Write soon, Maria, write soon. God bless.

Sincerely,

Dr. Idel Dreimer

After a while, many people decide that there no Trolls under the bridge. They have looked under bridges, and not seen them. They have also concluded that a race of large ugly beings, said to turn into stone upon contact with sunlight, is unlikely to exist under bridges, in caves, or in remote mountain areas.

It all seems straightforward enough, and the matter of no real consequence, a matter eminently forgettable.

We ourselves have decided that Trolls do not exist, and would be perfectly content to let the matter rest, and never mention them again, but for the fact that intelligent people keep bringing up the matter, and profess their own passionate belief.

Take, for instance, Ian Hunter–a professor emeritus in the Faculty of Law at the University of Western Ontario. To have become a professor, he must have some considerable intelligence. The fact that he is concerned about the power of Human Rights Commissions shows that he has considerable common sense.

But, writing in the December 21 edition of the National Post, Mr. Hunter attacks agnosticism, first of all with a sort of unholy glee, with the punctilious pedantry of a man whose universe is defined not by the meaning of words, but by the precise placement of punctuation.

Citing the Oxford English Dictionary definition of agnosticism: the belief that nothing beyond material phenomena can be known–Mr. Hunter triumphantly states that "agnosticism is an oxymoron...if nothing about religion can reliably be known, then it cannot be known whether anything about religion can reliably be known. If it is impossible to decide the truth or falsity of religious claims, then it is impossible to decide whether agnosticism is a preferable claim to even the narrowest or most fanatical religious prejudice."

That will still not people from saying: I simply do not have sufficient evidence to determine whether there is, in fact, a Troll under the bridge.

Mr. Hunter’s next attack is to state that agnosticism "leaves the voyager without compass (for Christians the Bible); without a guide (for Christians, Jesus Christ); without a destination (for Christians, heaven); and without hope (for Christians, resurrection)."

There is not a word here about truth. There is no doubt that those who can believe in a comforting illusion, are comforted. Atheists and agnostics are those who remain unconvinced by imaginative stories about the nature of existence. The arguments against religion are, to us, so obvious that we have great difficulty in understanding why anyone with an I.Q. over 85 would give it a second thought. We have reluctantly concluded that the majority of people prefer a comforting illusion to an uneasy truth, and intelligence, or lack thereof has nothing to do with it. The great pity is that religious belief, because it is not subject to rational argument, can be used to justify any horror, any inhumanity. As Thomas Jefferson said: "Man once surrendering his reason, has no remaining guard against absurdities the most monstrous, and like a ship without rudder, is the sport of every wind."

We would dearly love to stop talking about Trolls under bridges. They aren’t there. But it is difficult to remain silent when so many claim to see them.

We would like to take this occasion to announce that we have received another letter from Maria Duval, propitiously, just in time for the New Year. It is heartening, indeed to hear from Maria, especially since she sees for us "many triple 777 and many quadruple 7777" and 63 chances to win in 2011.

Maria is well aware that at the moment we are suffering from "terrible bad luck and also a shortage of money." But–the Astral Chart be praised–she "sees," in January of 2011, our bank manager congratulating us–"probably on a large sum of money being deposited to [our] account [one] day."

Now, if this startling information came to us from a complete no-account stranger, we might be inclined to dismiss it with a wave of our poverty-stricken pinkies. But Maria–as she tells us herself–is a "holder of the highest honorary awards and degrees," and has behind her "more than 30 years of accurate and verifiable predictions."

Nor has her light been hidden under an Astral Bushel–her ability to predict the future is "confirmed in experiments by the greatest scientific authorities," and she is "consulted by many international celebrities." Wow! With this kind of specific and irrefutable evidence, we would be foolish not to take her seriously.

And, indeed we do.

First, we are impressed with Maria’s perseverance. You see, this is not the first time our name and address have appeared, hovering nebulously in the aura emanating from her very own Biomagnetic Bracelet. On at least three other occasions, Maria has written eight page letters from the prestigious Destiny Research Centre, and despite our never having replied–Maria won’t take no for an answer. Indeed, we have never written to reject her kind offer of a Biomagnetic Bracelet of our very own, along with her Golden Predictions for only $29.00, including handling and first-class shipping, and $1.38 G.S.T. But –Maria has persisted in her attempts to shower us with luck.

Nor, indeed, have we ever replied by midnight of "this coming Sunday" in order to claim a precious gift: "A One Full Carat genuine Sapphire Jewelry set with pendant and matching earrings." We do not know how, but we have resisted this offer, in spite of the fact that "Each one of the 3 genuine Moonlight Blue Sapphire on this set has been extracted from the Ilaka sapphire mines in Madagascar, meticulously cut into an oval shape and then has been fully faceted and delicately hand polished before being precisely mounted."

In spite of our unresponsive, obdurate nature, Maria has persisted; we are impressed.

Second–and this is a related matter–we suspect some research has recently been done on an insight of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson–one of whose characters remarked: "What I tell you three times is true." (The Bellman in The Hunting of the Snark.) We have noted that some of the e-mailed journals to which we subscribe have adopted the "Video Presentation" technique. These are impossibly long essays broken into short paragraphs; each paragraph is presented separately and consecutively on the screen, and is convincingly read aloud. The unfortunate viewer is locked into a careful reading of the material, and is gradually, relentlessly hammered into submission: Send $49.95 for this Special Half-Price offer: The Armageddon Journal on How you and your Family can Survive 2011, and Thrive in 2012.

Is it a coincidence that repetition and persistence are seen as the hallmark of successful selling?

God forbid! Has Maria hacked into our computer, and looked at our Portfolio of Penny Stocks?

This is a matter which urges immediate investigation.

Fourth, we have to confess that in spite of our well-cultivated skepticism, there is a tiny, unworthy voice within us, which urges us to send in the $29–it is refundable–we have Maria’s word on that–just to see what the Biomagnetic Bracelet might bring. And, after all, those sapphires from Madagascar may have a potency of which even Maria is unaware.

You see, it is almost impossible not to realize that human beings are two-armed, two-legged, and two-brained creatures. On the one hand, there is the carefully cultivated rational, cortical brain. On the other hand–it may be rooted in the diencephalon–there is the more powerful, more primitive superstitious brain. The superstitious brain is fed from infancy, with monsters under the bed, fairy tales, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Religion. The belief in the magical, the unseen, and the miraculous can never be fully extinguished.

How else to account for religious belief among those who have intelligence quotas significantly above the mean average temperature for a Canadian July?

The reservoir of Superstition is there; one needs only the appropriate tap.

We were horrified some time ago to see Barbara Kay, writing in the National Post refer--apparently approvingly-- to that old saw: "There are no atheists in foxholes." On reflection, we thought–no–of course not. Being in a foxhole is like surviving a car accident with no limbs, or being tortured by the Inquisition. Under sufficient duress, people will say what they think may lift the oppression.

We ourselves have been heard to utter the Lord’s Prayer while suffering from a kidney stone.

The piety of one in a foxhole, on a deathbed, or under torture, is fearful, not rational, and no indicator of truth.

And now we must cede: there are foxholes replete with Armageddon Avoidance, Lucky Triple Sevens, Biomagnetic Bracelets–and possibly Moonlight Blue Sapphires from Madagascar.

As noted in the Diary Section, the reviews of Light on Dark Waters are starting to come in. One of the first was from our Aunt Myalgia–who is–in fact–our senior by only a few years. She writes from her current residence at Shady Hollow:

Dear Boy:

Was pleased to receive the latest Lumpenbangen CD, Light on Dark Waters.

Some of it is, I think, quite beautiful, and I think Rufus has made great progress.

I do think he lacks a bit in his sense of tempo. Have you considered the purchase of a metronome? I’m sure that the Institute could well afford one!

I am a bit mystified by the last piece–it seems to have been played on an entirely different piano in order to create the effect of a Chinese instrument. Do you not think we hear more than enough about China? The new superpower, friend of North Korea, and completely in charge at Wal-Mart? It’s all a bit unsettling!

I know that after the Terror of 2008, you won’t even plow your driveway at Wind-in-the-Pines, so I realize you are not currently in a position to help with my present battles. But am I still in your will dear boy?

I am adjusting fairly well, and find I have much in common with another patient, Gladys Fumblefingers, also here on falsified psychiatric assessment.

I’m arranging with Doris to send you some of my grape jelly–one of the jars marked "extra special." I do hope you enjoy it. It was one of Harold’s favourites.

Do have a happy Christmas.

Your fond aunt,

Myalgia

An article in yesterday’s National Post outlined the case of Suresh Kapur, who was diagnosed with bleeding on the brain at hospital and given an "urgent" appointment with a neurosurgeon in three days’ time. Fortunately, Mr Kapur has a son-in-law who is a doctor in Buffalo, and was able to arrange for a second opinion in that city the same day. That opinion was that Mr. Kapur’s situation required an immediate operation. Mr. Kapur had the operation, and then applied to have the cost paid by OHIP, which refused on the grounds that it was not convinced that Mr. Kapur’s situation did, indeed, require emergency surgery.

But this month, the Health Services Appeal and Review Board ruled that OHIP should pay for the operation.

Now, it is true that there is an element of uncertainty in this situation which can never be eliminated. Was the Ontario system unduly complacent, or was the Buffalo doctor unduly alarmed? Given a choice, and the potential deadly results of delay, we think most people would prefer to err on the side of caution: if a doctor says, as did the Buffalo neurosurgeon who examined Mr. Kapur's CT scan: "I thought I was going to see someone who was dead, or about to die," we think a majority would prefer not to dither.

But our failing Health Care system provides no options. Mr. Kapur, without a fortunately situated son-in-law, would have had to wait the three days. Had he died in the meantime, his case would not be on the front page of a national newspaper. If there are others, who, at this moment, are dying in similar circumstances–we will never hear about them.

Ours is a system in which hypocrisy reigns supreme. Efficacy is sacrificed on the altar of feel-good idealism–the notion of equality. We are absolutely convinced that if Mr. Kapur bore the name of Jean Chretien–or Stephen Harper–or Margaret Atwood–he would not have been asked to wait three days for an appointment with a neurosurgeon. Indeed, did Jean Chretien not recently have a similar condition which was treated as an emergency?

It has long been our contention that it is unfair that politicians be allowed to decide that our present system be continued: they are pretty well safe. They will not die, neglected in the waiting room of an emergency ward like Therese de Repentigny (See Drivel entry for November 18 ). They, we contend, will not be asked to wait three days to see a neurosurgeon after a diagnosis of bleeding on the brain. They have no personal incentive to fix the broken system.

The hypocrisy is typical of the socialist ideal: everyone is equal and everyone will be treated equally. Human nature keeps on getting in the way, of course, so things never work in quite that way. Additionally, central planning is doomed to inefficiency. All that such systems can provide is an equality of insufficiency.

Yes, in a two tier system, there will be inequality. The middle class who can afford to buy insurance may get more rapid care, and will have greater choice of doctors. The poor will have fewer options–but they may well be better off than the majority is now–since the private system will reduce the pressure on the public.

It has been noted that Canada’s insistently socialist system is shared only by –I believe– those models of patient-centred, world-renowned, high-performance endeavour in Cuba and North Korea.

The present system in Canada does not provide for freedom of choice, for innovation, or even near optimal outcomes. It is, for a supposedly democratic country, an outrage.

We have completed our 2010 Xmas CD, and are about to mail out copies to selected recipients. We would note that each CD represents both the rare element of inspirational genius on the part of Dr. Dreimer, who conceived the melodies (with the occasional nod to existing tunes), but also the somewhat laborious process of development and actual playing by the completely untutored Rufus Allthumbs. Mr. Allthumbs has an indifferent ear, no sense of rhythm, and has significant difficulties with digital dexterity and the memorization of a piece. It is, perhaps, a Christmas miracle that the Institute was able to produce the CD at all.

We would also note that each CD is manufactured using the highest quality sleek and stylish discs obtainable at Wal-mart, and each is encased in a sleek and stylish plastic jewel case, obtainable in bulk at the same prestigious location. The title of the disc, Light on Dark Waters, is hand printed with a felt marker on the jewel case. The discs are laboriously manufactured on the sleek and stylish Roland CD-2 player: blank discs are serially inserted  by hand for the burning process, and are then removed after about ten minutes, or when white puffs of smoke appear from the machine.

The "liner notes"--which may be observed to the right--are electronically transferred to real paper, which has been inserted through a labor-intensive hand process into an HP Laser Jet P1005 Printer.

The following is the price list for this remarkable new CD:

General Public                 10.00
Friends                             20.00
Acquaintances                 15.00
Relatives, wealthy           50.00
Relatives, poor                25.00  
Aunt Myalgia                  100.00  

Warning: It has come to our attention that certain amoral individuals have been known to copy CDs for the purpose of resale or unauthorized distribution. Lumpenbangenpiano discs have been digitally altered so that any attempt at copying will have serious consequences: black puffs of smoke will appear from the copying device. If the copying persists, spontaneous conflagration will occur with a concomitant digital revocation of any existing fire insurance.  

The Lumpenbangen Piano Institute is pleased to present the 2010 Christmas CD, the fourth in a series of annual musical offerings in keeping with the traditions of the season.

It is a well established fact that the Christmas season is one of the most depressing times of the year, with much enforced jollity and hollow attempts at merry-making which are but a thin veneer to the real elements of quiet desperation and suicidal impulse brought on by gift-buying, financial stress, memories of happier Christmases, vanishing daylight and cold weather.

In a spirit of Christian charity, the Lumpenbangen Institute has once again managed to create twelve entirely new compositions of mournful music, which, we hope, may serve as appropriately enhancing and intensifying adjuncts to the deep wells of dissatisfaction and misery which are hallmarks of the season.

The melodies on this disc are titled as indicated below.  

In the age of e-mail greeting cards, the webcam, and the touchy-feely visual phone, it may be a fairly safe prediction that the era of the Christmas card–the actual paper card, sent in an envelope through a primitive system of labour-intensive pick-up and delivery–is approaching its end.

It is not quite dead. We note that Wal-Mart still has a selection of cards, and we were intrigued to see, in a busy mall, an entire booth devoted largely to these relics of another era. We are in the unhappy circumstance that our last batch of cards–circa 2006–has, at last, been exhausted. Since we are in the process of sending out the new Xmas 2010 CD–Light on Dark Waters–-- it seemed that a small card of a Christmassy and festive nature would not be an inappropriate inclusion.

Choosing a card–one that we expect to give us many years of reliable service–is not an easy matter. The face of the card is not that difficult. It does not take us long to determine whether the card falls within the bounds of acceptable good taste. We know very little about art, but we know what we like, and what we like is, by definition, in good taste.

Any overtly religious card is in bad taste. No nativity scenes, Magi, shepherds, stars, angels, or big stars over Bethlehem, thank you very much. Or figures with halos. We object to the selectivity of such portrayals. We might soften our principles for a good Inquisition Scene–a close-up of a thumbscrew, rack, or iron maiden–or a lively and engaging portrayal of a burning at the stake, a drowning of witches, or a dropping from a great height. Sentimentality over the matter of religion deserves its counterpart–a reminder of where the whole thing can end up.

For many years we were devoted to scenes of winter–pleasant landscapes, whether populated or unadorned. We recognize that our objection to selectivity does not operate in this sphere. It is undoubtedly an atheist bias.

Lately we have come to favour stylized decorative Christmassy items–as long as they are reasonably bright and cheerful.

We think it is, perhaps, a matter of striving to go beyond the conventional. Such a nice card-- goes the reasoning-- must needs have something more original, more classy than "Season’s Greetings," or "Happy Holidays."

Alas! How many an otherwise respectable card is ruined by an excess of sentimentality! How many wishes for peace, love, warmth, and goodness. How many special feelings, special times, and magic moments! And not just for the present season–sometimes the wish is that the warmth and magic moments of the special festive time continue–always–into the indefinite future.

Our least favourite word is, perhaps, "joyous." It is undoubtedly an indictment of our own crabbed, pinched, and miserable existence that we cannot conceive of the word "joyous" being used in any way except ironically. Ah yes. We had a joyous time during that last root canal. "This is a joyous moment indeed," he said, as he stumbled, tripped, and sank into the quicksand.

Our advice to the manufacturers: stick to "Season’s Greetings," "Merry Christmas," or "Happy Holidays."

Or leave the card blank, so that we can write in our own sentiments.

Bah! Humbug!

It is our custom to follow the "bullboards" which relate to our most significant stock market holdings. These boards are forums for those who own, or have some interest in a particular security. Sometimes useful information can be gleaned–reference to an analyst’s comment–the expertise of someone familiar with the industry–an analysis of a recent news release.

Because comments are made under a pseudonym, the "Mask Effect"–or the "Wizard of Oz Syndrome"-- comes into full play. We make the following observations.

1. Very few women participate in the forums.

2. This is because the forums are like boxing, the Tour de France, politics, parliamentary debate, corporate hierarchies, football, and the acquisition of anything you care to name (money, women, art, houses, stamps)–arenas for the expression of the male competitive instinct.

3. This is made abundantly clear by Agoracom, one sponsor of such bullboards, which encourages participation by classifying contributors as "mail room," "treasurer," "president," "hub leader," and so forth, according to frequency and ratings of Posts.

(a) "Over-the-top" expression using huge fonts, exclamation points, and coloured type--the unself-conscious rantings of the "naked pumper."

(b) Adverse personal comment at about the grade school level.

( c ) A variety of one-upmanship strategies: everyone wishes to let his successes be known-- be it ever so subtly, or in full braggadocio. Admissions of error or uncertainty, are rare, and are made only in the context of larger success.

(d) The absence of any correlation between apparent affluence and the ability to spell.

We ourselves, have made occasional comment on some bullboards, but our motives are pure and unsullied. While we usually include our website address, this is not for personal aggrandisement, but for the purpose of full disclosure.

The above comments are in no way to be interpreted as indicating superior insight or an elevated position with respect to ordinary human frailty; indeed, the male competitive instinct is completely foreign to our constitution, the happy result of our early upbringing on the planet of Krypton.

For the love of money is the root of all evil.. (Timothy 6:10)

When we last left Brad, he was on the horns of a dilemma. Suffering from nausea and headache after ingesting Plummet, at a preliminary trial for the drug, he is asked by Dr. Genial, one of the doctors conducting the study, how he is feeling. If he reveals his headache and nausea, he runs the risk of rendering himself ineligible for future studies–possibly even being removed from this one. If he keeps quiet, he runs the risk of damage to his health and rendering the study invalid, but he has a good chance of collecting the $2000 fee for his participation.

We are sorry to have withheld Brad’s decision from our avid readers for so long. We understand that dealing with such ethical dilemmas is not easy for anybody. But –just think for a moment.

HOLY COW! WHAT DO YOU THINK BRAD DOES? HE KEEPS HIS MOUTH SHUT!

There, there, now. We do hate to disillusion you. But sometimes you have to face the truth, even if only briefly. And don’t forget–Santa is still up there at the North Pole, getting gifts ready; the Easter Bunny is still making chocolate; and the Tooth Fairy is still buying teeth at regular market rates. So there’s a lot to be thankful for, and a lot to be comforted by.

Oh dear. You are still sobbing, aren’t you? Possibly it is best if we wait a little bit before continuing. Try to buck up a bit, and look on the bright side of things. We’ll resume our account shortly.

Next came Charybdis, who swallows the sea in a whirlpool, then spits it up again. Avoiding this we skirted the cliff where Scylla exacts her toll. Each of her six slavering maws grabbed a sailor and wolfed him down. (The Odyssey)

We have been happy to explain the little disclaimers which accompany every prescription drug which we receive from the drug store. Without such disclaimers, we might believe that the volunteers on whom the drug was tested were representative of the population at large. It would never cross our minds that the drug might, in fact, be inappropriate for an elderly white male suffering from dyspepsia, heart palpitations, and terminal skepticism.

You are quite welcome to send your thanks, with an appropriate money order, to the Lumpenbangen Facility on Dreimer Avenue in Hamilton.

But let us return to the fortunate Brad, who seems well on his way to earning $2,000 as a volunteer for the Plummet trials conducted by the friendly Nostrum, Quack, and Toxin Pharmaceutical Company.

As fate would have it, he falls into a conversation with George, another of the volunteers.

Brad: Have you done this sort of trial before?

George: (Showing Brad his arm.) You think these needle marks are from doing drugs?

Brad: Well, er, no, I guess not. So you’re a veteran of this sort of thing?

George: Well, I used to be a brain surgeon. But after reading Heart of Darkness–well it kinda sucked the enthusiasm right out of me. I quit my job, travelled the world, but when I came back, nothing had changed. So, I drive taxi, and do clinical trials. It’s enough to pay the rent and put thin gruel and remaindered bread on the table.

Brad: Wow! So you do this for a living! What’s it like?

George: The only thing you’ve got to watch out for is the side effects.

Brad: So if I start getting any symptoms, I should let Dr. Genial know right away?

Brad: Wow!

Over the next few days, as Brad ingests the tiny Plummet pill each morning, he develops a persistent headache and nausea. He is thankful that George has smuggled in some Gravol pills, which he generously sells for ten dollars apiece. After three days, Dr. Genial asks him how he is feeling.

The question puts Brad on the horns of a dilemma. He is between the Scylla of telling the truth, and running the risk of being banned from further studies-- and the Charybdis of keeping quiet, possibly running the risk of serious damage to his health, being complicit in a misleading study, but making his $2,000.

We will let the reader ponder this difficult situation. We realize it is an ethical dilemma which may cause some of our more sensitive readers (Hi, aunt Myalgia!) to experience sleepless nights, possibly accompanied by headache and nausea. May we recommend Gravol?

Next week, assuming the Gods of High Cholesterol are willing, we will reveal Brad’s decision.

"Many are called, but few are chosen." Matthew 22:14

Brad and Mandy have been accepted into the Plummet study–the one conducted by the friendly Nostrum, Quack, and Toxin Pharmaceutical Company, a division of Behemoth Incorporated-- to determine the safety of a new drug which will suck the last tiny bit of Cholesterol from the human body.

In order to be admitted to the study, Brad and Mandy have been able to show that they are non-smokers, non-drinkers, and have sex no more than twice a week. Having been brought up on the remote hills of Northern New Guinea, they have never encountered the words marijuana, cocaine, or ecstasy. They are older than 21, but not older than 42. Their blood sugar, white cell count, and cholesterol levels are within the normal range. They have never suffered from depression, grouchiness or ill-temper. They are as "normal" as one could possibly expect.

In this particular study, however, NQT Pharmaceuticals wishes to be especially careful. Don’t forget, there are literally millions of dollars at stake. If Plummet is successful in sucking the last tiny bit of cholesterol from the human body, the world-wide sales will be phenomenal. It is very important that the drug be shown to be safe. (We must ignore, for the purposes of this little fantasy, the fact that such a drug could not be safe, since it would cause instantaneous death.)

Thus, NQT has hit on the plan of subjecting the sixty volunteers to a pre-test test. In each of three consecutive weekends, each volunteer ingests one tiny Plummet pill. Brad and Mandy, in the days following the ingestion of the single pill, are subjected to a battery of tests. No known test of the blood is omitted. No telltale trace of organ discomfort is ignored. No admission of nausea, headache, or snappishness is overlooked.

As it turns out, Mandy is disqualified, and is sent away with a reduced payment. Brad, having shown no exceptional sensitivity to Plummet, is retained.

Now, we have presented this little fantasy as a public service. Possibly you, like many others have wondered why, when you get a prescription drug from your local pharmacy, the following disclaimer appears:

(Drug X) has been tested for safety on volunteers who are non-drinkers, and non-smokers, who have sex no more than twice a week. Brought up on the remote hills of Northern New Guinea, they have never encountered the words marijuana, cocaine, or ecstasy. They are older than 21, but younger than 42. Their blood sugar, white cell count, and cholesterol levels are all within the normal range. They have never suffered from depression, grouchiness or ill-temper. They have not shown any unusual sensitivity to (Drug X) in pre-test trials.

These disclaimers–which one sees everywhere–are simply an element of full disclosure, which, as a matter of principle and in accordance with FDA regulation, are a hallmark of the ethical values of the large Drug Companies.

"No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money." (Samuel Johnson, 1709-1784)

In our last episode, we presented two contrasting scenes. In the first, idealistic Bradley, given to working on dingbat projects like Green Endeavours, the McGuinty Plan for providing environmentally friendly energy at unaffordable prices, wishes to volunteer for a test of a new drug, Plummet, which is designed to suck every trace of cholesterol from the human body. He is blissfully unaware that such a drug would cause instantaneous death; he is motivated by the fact that, upon his father’s death, the attending physician, unable to divine the true cause, attributed it to "High Cholesterol."

 In the contrasting second scene, we saw Brad and Mandy, the downmarket version of Bradley and Amanda, who are under considerable financial pressure, and jump at the chance to make $2000 each, which represents a considerable alleviation of their penurious condition.

We understand that the typical Canadian reader will have much difficulty in deciding which of the two scenarios is more realistic. We will doubtless be considered cruel and heartless to suggest that Dr. Johnson had an insight into the human condition of which the average Canadian, trained to believe in the magic of socialized medicine and the efficacy of Human Rights Commissions, is blissfully unaware.

Let us look, very briefly, at another element in the subject at hand. NQT Pharmaceuticals, like Brad and Mandy, is motivated by money. This is not, of course, necessarily a bad thing. But the curious reader might wonder how it is that, from 1997 to 2001, twelve prescription drugs were withdrawn by manufacturers like NQT. Just to mention two recalled drugs: Baycol, a cholesterol lowering drug was recalled in 2001 because of the potential for muscle deterioration and renal or other organ failure. Vioxx , a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug was withdrawn in 2004 because of the increased risk of heart attack and stroke.

One would imagine that adequate testing of such drugs would result in a better safety record.

In our next segments we will try to explore some of the less-publicized elements of the prescription drug world.

The big drug companies do much research in order to find useful drugs to treat the ills of mankind. One element in this research is the holding of trials on human volunteers–initially to determine the safety of a particular drug.

It is a frequently asked question–people have often stopped us in the street, or leaned over in the elevator-- "How do drug companies find such volunteers?"

Let us deal with this question with a little imagined scene, which, we suspect will give all those avid questioners a warm comfy feeling, and will allow them to go on with their sunlit, agreeable lives.

                             *********************

The scene is a tastefully furnished condo in downtown Toronto. It is Saturday, and the morning newspapers, spread around in various locations contribute to a slight air of dishevelment. Bradley and Amanda, a fit-looking couple in their early thirties, are seated on the leather couch which faces the television screen. They seem to be engrossed in a variety of Travel Pages and Travel Brochures.

Amanda: What about Aruba? We’ve never been there before.

Bradley: Yeah, but I really liked Club Maeva in Manzanillo.

Amanda: But we’ve been there twice, already!

Bradley: True. (Looking somewhat uncomfortable) Actually, Amanda, I’ve been thinking quite a bit since Dad died. ‘Member the cause of death: High Cholesterol.

Amanda: (Immediately sympathetic, she places her hand on Brad’s arm.) Oh, I remember. He was riddled with the stuff. And when they found him, there was all that horrible goo burbling through his lips!

Bradley: Yeah. The whole thing has been bothering me more and more lately. I see here that NQT Pharmaceutical–you know the friendly Nostrum, Quack and Toxin people–they’re looking for volunteers to test a new drug called A53Q2, or Plummet, which is designed to suck every last bit of cholesterol out of the human body.

Amanda: So?

Amanda: What about Aruba?

Bradley: Well, we could do that next year.

Amanda: Look Bradley, you know I would never stand in the way of your humanitarian impulses. Sure, go ahead, volunteer. I will phone Samantha and see if she can go to Aruba.

Bradley: But they pay $2,000.

Amanda: Be my guest. (Dials. There is a pause.) Samantha? It’s Amanda...........

                                                  ****************

Our Second Scene is set in the same Condo. A similar couple are seated on the same couch, and seem to be leafing through a stack of bills. They resemble a "downmarket" version of Bradley and Amanda; their names are Brad and Mandy.

Mandy: Jesus Christ! How are we going to get out of this mess?

Brad: You know I’ve been looking. You want I should drive taxi?

Mandy: (Immediately sympathetic, she puts her hand on Brad’s arm.) Now, you know I don’t, Brad. But Aunt Marigold will be coming back from her cruise in two weeks, and we’ve got to be out of here. Where are we going to go? Where do we get the first and last?

Brad: (Looking in the paper) Hey–here’s something: NQT Pharmaceuticals is looking for volunteers to test their new drug, Plummet, which is designed to suck the last trace of cholesterol out of the human body. They’re paying $2,000!

Mandy: I don’t believe it! What’s the number? (She seizes the phone, and begins dialing.)

                                                *****************

We certainly do not wish to influence our readers, or suggest which of the above scenes is closer to reality. We realize that, for one segment, we have already provided more information than can be conveniently handled by the modern brain. Assuming that we do not succumb to High Cholesterol, we will continue with the adventures of Bradley and Amanda, and the reader will be better able to reach conclusions.

In our Diary entry of August 12, 2010, we announced the establishment of Forward News–a new Service, which, unhindered by facts and reality, would report on the News as we would wish to see it. The first of two news reports announced the discovery of 2.7 trillion dollars of unsuspected cash in an anteroom at the Federal Reserve Board Facilities in the United States; the second revealed an admission by a leading climate scientist that the whole climate change scare is complete hogwash.

We were dismayed today to see a report in the National Post that Emergency Room wait times are getting worse. Mentioned in the account, were: Therese de Repentigny, 78, who died after waiting for six hours; Shayne Hay, 34, who was suicidal, and who waited 12 hours before hanging himself; Mariette Fournier, 86, who died after spending four days in the Emergency Department corridor; and Mieczyslaw Figel, 75, who died after waiting for some hours, while his family was knocking on the triage booth window trying to catch the attention of the nurse to tell her that Mr. Figel had stopped breathing.

November 18, 2011. (Special to Forward news) Iconic Canadian author Margaret Hatwood died early this morning at St. Margaret-full-of-Mead Hospital in downtown Toronto. She had been rushed to the facility three days earlier, complaining of chest pains, but, because of the overcrowding in the Emergency Department, had yet to be seen by a doctor.

This is the second death of a prominent figure at the hospital in less than three months. On September 12, Prime Minister Stephen Kharper,  died of complications of anorexia nervosa, after a two-day wait, as his staff tried vainly to attract the attention of triage nurse, Ms. Whatsit Tooya.

Dr. William ("WTF") Theodore Frankengarben, spokesperson for the hospital, commented that while the deaths were unfortunate, he was pleased that accusations that the poor and inarticulate received care inferior to that accorded prominent persons in society could be put to rest.

"We are pleased to be able to show that the Health Care System is governed entirely by the principle of Equality. We may be astoundingly inefficient, but we are equally inefficient for all our patients, regardless of position or income. We hope that all Canadians see the matter as we do: a triumph of the principles of fairness and equality which define this great nation."

The Aztec culture in the fifteenth century held that ritual human sacrifice was  helpful in consecrating a temple. The German culture in the 1930's was marked by a belief that Aryans were a superior race, and that extermination of Jewish people would be of great benefit. The Pakistani culture of 2010 seems to believe that the death penalty is an appropriate punishment for blasphemy, and Iranians see stoning as a fitting penalty for adultery.

So, enough, already, about the wonders of multiculturalism; different cultures hold different views on matters of importance, and these views are not of equal merit or always compatible. It is time that we stopped using the feel-good notion of multiculturalism to stifle real arguments about significant issues.

In today’s National Post, three letter writers, who support the wearing of the niqab and the burka by focussing on the primacy of individual choice, seem completely to miss the point. The fact is that in our western culture–you remember–the one that has provided greater freedom and comfort for its citizens than any heretofore–it is considered an important principle that people be identifiable. A failure to observe this principle is fraught with danger–as is shown by the damage caused by masked individuals during the recent G20 Summit protests.

Beyond that, it is a custom in our society that citizens interact freely, and are able to observe faces to discern meaning, and to make judgement. Those who do not wish to observe this customary interaction are cutting themselves off from normal social discourse, and are rejecting an important aspect of the society in which they have chosen to live. It should not be surprising, then, that this insult to our culture is less than welcome.

It seems to me Canadians have been bamboozled by idealism.

The idea is, apparently, that the highest quality of healthcare can be provided for all citizens, equally, in a centrally planned system.

Canadians have been fed this line, along with the notion that such a system is, somehow, morally superior to other systems–systems in which the ordinary rules of supply and demand are allowed some reign. By and large, Canadians have swallowed the idealistic hook, the misleading line, the "sinker" of wait times and lack of choice–and have managed to convince themselves that the indigestible concoction of insidious garbage is actually palatable. This is what comes of learning to say "Oh, I’m sorry" –when someone steps on your foot.

These fanciful notions have been tried before in countries that have pursued a socialistic ideal–and they have failed miserably. The problem is, of course, human nature, and reality, keep getting in the way. It’s nice to think that everyone is equal, and it’s nice to think that economic rules can be suspended in the pursuit of a morally superior supra-human existence. But nice thinking and reality are two entirely different things.

People who would be quite capable of buying private insurance and going to the doctor of their choice, or having an investigation or procedure done within a reasonable time period, are simply not allowed to do so. In the interest of equality, they are made to wait in line, regardless of the effect on their health. The number of doctors is artificially restricted so that choice–the key element in an otherwise market economy-is virtually a forgotten concept.

We thought it only fitting to mark the first anniversary of the Lumpenbangenpiano website, which was launched in November, 2009.

Our initial impulse was to hire a hall, a band, and purchase a clutch of balloons. A small number of deterrent factors presented themselves. There are only three known readers of the site, and we might have trouble finding a facility which would provide wheelchair access for Aunt Myalgia.

Additionally, the Lumpenbangen coffers are less than robust after the stock market crash of 2008.

Finally, Dr. Dreimer is noted for his aversion to publicity, and there is some question whether he would wish to attend wearing the heavy burka which he feels necessary to avoid being identified.

And, so, instead, we wish merely to record the fact of the anniversary.

We were so taken aback by the piercing clarity of the question that we were rendered, effectively, speechless.

Only now, months later, can we state that the site is like a vast Poem, which is best approached with a neo-Aristotelian but interdisciplinary mindset such as that favoured by some of the members of the Chicago School of Literary Criticism. The point, in other words, is in the eye of the beholder. (This may account for the fact that we have so often been asked to use the rubber-tipped end of the pencil.)

Some of the notions held by some practitioners of Islam are simply intolerable to western democratic societies:

 

I remember, as a child, during the Second World War, asking my mother about the possibility that we might lose the war. I do not remember her exact reply–but the meaning was clear–the prospect of loss was not one that could even be contemplated.

Such conviction doubtless sounds odd in a later era, when wars are less unambiguous matters.

We may think we are doing the right thing in Afghanistan, but there are critics. We are not fighting for our immediate survival–as Britain was in the 1940's–and principles are worth fighting for–in principle–at least–until the cost seems to be too great.

In this context, it is encouraging to see a more open debate emerging about Islam. The initial Western response–for example--to the fatwa issued against Salman Rushdie–or the violent reaction to the publication of the Danish cartoons-- seems to have been like that of a politely timid dinner guest who recognizes the man seated across from him as a murderer featured on the previous week’s "America’s Most Wanted." He is frightened and appalled, but is too refined to make a scene.

In the course of the conversation, the murderer makes much of the unwarranted hostility of timidly polite dinner guests, implying that his apparent crimes are an entirely reasonable response to provocation. The guest starts to believe that, just perhaps, he himself is in some way responsible for the crimes featured on the television program. He leaves, in timid confusion.

In yesterday’s National Post, Lorne Gunter refers to an e-mail he received during the Danish cartoon controversy: "This is about treating Islam equally! I am a Muslim and all we want is for our religion to be treated with the same respect as other religions."

Oddly, in the same edition of the Post, a letter from a reader, responding to the claim that Islam is, at its heart, a violent religion, argues that it is no more fair to characterize Islam as violent as it is to characterize Christianity or Judaism violent on account of the Second World War or the Arab-Israeli conflict. He ends by asking for more respect for all religions, and "less haste to blame an entire faith for the sins of its members."

Three readers took issue with the letter, pointing out that the wars to which the writer refers were not fought on account of religion–and that Israel’s wars have been defensive. One reader notes that Mohammad himself was "intolerant of those who opposed him," and would more likely serve as a model for violence than Jesus. Another reader claimed his right, as a citizen of a free and democratic society, not to respect Islam.

We do see the demand for respect for Islam, the claim that it is above criticism, and that critics –or indeed apostates--are to be put to death–is a matter over which there can be no compromise.

This point must continue to be made by as many people and on as many occasions as possible. Tip-toeing around the issue is to give weight and credence to a claim that is bizarre, idiotic, and destructive. There is no evidence for any religion, and the attempt to coerce people to believe--or respect--what is, essentially, superstition-- has no place in a civilized society. This is a battle in which the prospect of a loss cannot be contemplated.

As a relevant postscript, we add here a rather old joke. It concerns a charismatic preacher who was renowned for his fiery and convincing sermons. After a particularly rousing performance, he inadvertently dropped a page of his speaking notes and left it on the stage. A member of the audience, curious to see if the page would give a clue to such inspiration and conviction, picked it up, and was intrigued to see the page was extensively annotated with comments on technique and delivery. Of particular interest was a passage marked: "Argument weak here; yell like hell."

The strange case of David Chen, who was charged for apprehending a thief, has, with a trial, come once again to our attention. We think it revealing that Mr. Chen was charged with assault, forcible confinement, carrying a dangerous weapon, and kidnapping.

This does not suggest any element of hesitation or reluctance on the part of the police. There is no hint of awareness of manifest injustice. This is "throwing the book" at a supposed unredeemable and hardened criminal. Such obvious over-reaction leads one to suspect hidden motives. The police do not wish citizens to tread on their turf. It is–perhaps–like a union jurisdiction matter.

In essence, of course, it is the power of government shown in an unseemly moment. Government is necessary to maintain order. The unfortunate truth is that a little power is never enough. The impulse of government is never to rest until citizens are completely robotized. Citizens will not discard more than one bag of garbage; they will not park more than one car in the driveway. The justification is always an irrefutable appeal to the common good.

We see a trend.

We have imagined a conversation in a grand, important, and august Chamber between an Ignorant Questioner and a panel of Learned Experts. The Learned Experts sit on a raised platform in oak chairs, elaborately carved and richly upholstered. The Ignorant Questioner is led into the Chamber. He is a slight, aging, bespectacled figure. The Experts regard him with unconcealed hostility. He is the first to speak:

I.Q.: I understand that the apprehension of a thief, except under very strict conditions, is forbidden, such apprehension being reserved for the correct authorities. Given the preoccupation of the police with parking enforcement and coffee shop monitoring, does this not imply that many thieves, possibly subject to apprehension by ordinary citizens, will go scot-free?

LEARNED POLICE REPRESENTATIVE: Yes, in the overall scheme of things thieves will go free in the context of the need to preserve the hierarchical consistency in the enforcement of justice.

I.Q.: Doesn’t it send the wrong message to render citizens powerless and let thieves go free?

LEARNED SOCIAL SCIENCES REPRESENTATIVE: We see that the Ignorant Questioner has branded himself with a barbaric way of thinking which, quite frankly, we thought had long ago been extirpated. Thieves today are not the thieves of the Middle Ages. Today’s enlightened thieves were born good but through the malign and evil forces of society, have been shifted from their chosen paths, and been forced, against their better natures, to commit anti-social acts. If a few go free, it is quite likely they will, of their own accord and through their innate natural goodness, begin to behave in a more socially acceptable manner.

I.Q. I guess the idea of punishment to change behaviour is really old-fashioned.

LEARNED PSYCHOLOGICAL REPRESENTATIVE: Not at all. In the case of those who threaten or inconvenience important personages in our society, it is thought that incarceration may have some benefits. If ordinary people are involved, a moderate reprimand is usually sufficient. We do have, as our primary mandate, the preservation of the self-esteem of all citizens, but especially those who experience difficulties in adapting to social norms.

I.Q.: This question will undoubtedly seem politically incorrect, but is there any significance to the fact that an honest, hard-working Chinese person was charged with so many offences, while the thief, a black man, was given a reduced sentence for his testimony against his captor?

LEARNED HUMAN RIGHTS COMMISSION REPRESENTATIVE: This is an outrage! The Ignorant Questioner should be well aware that any generalization based on race, when made by an ordinary citizen, is a matter for the Human Rights Commission and is subject to the severest penalties. Government racism, on the other hand, is perfectly acceptable. Some individuals are members of races which have suffered inequities in the past, and, on that account are afforded–along with other disadvantaged groups–preference in hiring and promotion, and are treated with exaggerated respect in all government offices. Without examining the particulars of this case, we cannot say whether usual government policies played a rôle. We hereby order the Ignorant Questioner to be detained at the conclusion of this session!

I.Q.: Well, I guess I knew I was on dangerous ground. Speaking of dangerous ground-- if I am ever allowed my freedom--if I were to slip on the sidewalk, or fall over the Scarborough Bluffs–what procedures should I follow?

LEARNED RESCUE REPRESENTATIVE: On no account should you pick yourself up from the sidewalk or attempt to climb up the Bluffs. You should call 911 and await the arrival of the Fire Department, the Coastguard, or other appropriate Rescue Agency, who have exclusive jurisdiction over such matters. Attempting self-rescue is fraught with danger, and could lead to serious injury.

I.Q.: Suppose my cellphone has been lost or crushed. Suppose no one finds me. Suppose I should die?

LEARNED MEDICAL REPRESENTATIVE: The Ignorant Questioner should understand that injuries sustained by amateur rescue attempts are costs that must be borne by the Health Care System, which may be considerable. In many cases, death is the least expensive outcome.

I.Q.: I see.

The Learned Human Rights Commission representative motions to two armed Security Representatives at the sides of the Chamber. They come forward, handcuff the Ignorant Questioner, and lead him, roughly, away.

They seem to be much pleased with this phenomenon–as if there is another, less desirable type of light emitted from other, less favouring windows. We can only assume the United States is plagued with a harsh, undesirable synthetic light created from recycled plastic bottles and directed, relentlessly, through any window which is of a quality inferior enough to admit it. The discovery of windows which allow for the transmission of “a lot of natural light,” is therefore, for them, a feature worthy of remark.

In Canada, we should consider ourselves indeed blessed. A solid banking system, the oil sands, and a dearth of outdoor unnatural light.
 

Hi, Marni:

I think the major shift in thinking has been away from a belief in original sin to a belief in original goodness–I call it neo-Rousseausim. Man is born noble; if he doesn’t turn out well, it’s the fault of society. The emphasis on self-esteem is a reasonable concomitant: if man is born good, he should have an appropriate self-regard.

It may happen that, before we blow ourselves up, one or two cultures may come to some reasonable accommodation between the requirements of the real and the appeals of the ideal. But it’s a tricky business!

 

We had been about to write a scathing review of a recent Wal-Mart television advertisement–one so loud, so relentlessly cheerful, and so gratuitously obnoxious that we rediscovered the “mute” button on the Remote Control Unit. The advertisement seems to have disappeared–quite possibly as Head Office began to notice declining sales coincident with the airing of the offending material.

We are left then, to deplore the recent Bell ads which, we assume, are meant to promote the sale of a visually interactive communications device–we can only imagine it is the new “touchy-feely fone.”

The ads feature brief conversations charged with the kind of mawkish sentimentality which has become so popular as the concluding note in many Crime shows. The addition is the sense of intimacy: the viewer is led to believe that he is eavesdropping on conversations in which the participants are letting their guard down–responding to one another in a manner which can only have developed over years of private interaction.

In one ad, the young lady coyly asks her partner whether he is alone. Even with that assurance, her coyness persists: “You know that 'thing' we were working on?" she asks. Smirk and giggle. Surely she doesn’t mean “baby making”? Well, sakes alive, that’s exactly what she’s on about. Why this phone is positively pornographic!

In another conversation, --I believe this is a Telus ad--a grandfather is shown his new-born “perfect” granddaughter–or at least that is his conclusion when shown a swaddled entity indistinguishable from perhaps a hundred others. He does not quite break into tears–but it’s a mighty close thing. This phone is many things–a pornograph and a paean to the cycle of life, a reflection of human awe at the eternal mysteries of existence.

The other two, if we remember correctly, involve cutesy interchanges between fathers and daughters.

We think it only fair that these advertisers portray a more complete range of human interaction.
 

Is there a Santa Claus?

About fifty years ago, there was a psychologist –we think it may have been Dr. William Blatz–who argued that children should not be taught to believe in Santa Claus, since it gave them a false perspective on life. Certainly a belief in the impossible is an enduring element in human existence: that the White Queen in Through the Looking Glass claimed to have believed six impossible things before breakfast is, we think, a shrewd commentary on the human condition.

We are not sure that refusing to tell children about Santa Claus would do much good. We think that belief in the impossible is perhaps a necessary coping mechanism which everyone employs in one form or another.

A very large proportion of the population believes in religion, despite all the obvious and convincing objections which might be made by a ten-year-old child. A fortunate coincidence is always adduced as proof, while a terrible tragedy is never seen as a refutation of the idea of a beneficent meddling creator. The buying of lottery tickets–despite the infinitesimal odds–is a well-established habit of–we can only assume–millions. In Canada, there are many intelligent people who believe that Health Care can be divorced from economic reality, and that the government can provide all remedies to all people, despite an aging population and an increasing complexity of drugs and procedures. Indeed, millions believe that the laws of human nature can be suspended, and that a socialist paradise may be obtained by voting for the NDP.

We point out all of the above, not in a spirit of smug superiority, but merely as an introduction to our own personal version of the Santa Claus Syndrome.

You see, while we think all religion is bunk, that buying lottery tickets is a waste of time, that the Health Care System will eventually succumb to reality, and that Socialism is idiotic, we have always harboured the pitiable belief that it is possible to buy stock in a small mining Company, and, despite infinitesimal odds, become disgustingly rich.

No amount of contrary experience, it appears, is able to dissuade us from this deep-seated conviction.
 

 August 22, 2010


Are you tired of mirror shock? Afflicted with facial fading or multiple mug mutations? Has your visage become vimless, invigorous, or vapid? After a couple of drinks, does it verge on virescence or viridity?

Are you frustrated with sagging skin, redundant wrinkles, or eyebags the size of carry-ons? Is your hair grey, white, thinning, receding, or completely unresponsive at roll call?

Are you daunted by the prospect of yet more cosmetic surgery, and somewhat uncertain about the expense of a complete head transplant?

A new, 'seamless' solution is now available!

Face Fitters International--now at most major centres in the U.S.A. and Canada-- can renew your old mug in less than a day! Yes, we guarantee: "In by 9-out by 5."

Or, for your convenience, a Face Fitters Mobile Unit can transform your appearance in the comfort of your own home!
 

Face fitting is not cosmetic surgery, nor does it involve the cost of a complete head transplant. Rather, it is a complex of inexpensive mobile skin-match plastic panels that fits conveniently over your existing mug.

A variety of models is available-from Brad Pitt/ Angelina Jolie to Cary Grant/ Marilyn Monroe.

Mirror shock is a clinically proven risk factor for dyspepsia, atherosclerosis, and grumpitudinal apraxia! Contact Face Fitters International today at 1-888-Facefitters or at www.facefitters.ca.


Note: Criminal background check necessary. Not suitable for niqab wearers. Small seam at neck easily concealed with scarf or custom jewellery. 2 AA batteries (not included) can be worn as pendant or discreetly inserted with patented applicator.

 

It has been our custom to dismiss Apocalypse Now as leaning on Heart of Darkness in some of its details, but rather missing the point of Conrad’s novel.

This weekend, at Wind-in-the-Pines, we had the opportunity of viewing a DVD "redux" version of the film, and re-evaluating our view. We have concluded that the works are hugely influenced by their respective media.

Heart of Darkness is a novel written to make a philosophical point: the narrative is subordinate to that aim. It is not a particularly interesting or "gripping" story. At the outset, we have no doubts about the survival of the narrator–he is alive and well, and seen to be telling the story to others at the beginning. The events are often more symbolic than meant to engage the emotions of the reader. As well–the events are narrated from a perspective which might be described as at an "ironic remove" rather than in "breathless engagement."

There is, in the narrative, a deliberate fuzziness. Kurtz`s decline is suggested through reports of others. The most vivid detail–the compound surrounded by poles bearing the shrunken heads of his victims–is not elaborated and leaves much to the reader's imagination.

Kurtz himself, when Marlow discovers him, is a spent force, virtually alone and very close to death. He is no threat to Marlow, but provides a glimpse of the "abyss" into which he has fallen.

The philosophical point of the novel is made at the end, when Marlow meets Kurtz`s  fiancée, his "Intended." She represents the civilized, idealistic Kurtz–the man who had written a treatise on the Suppression of Savage Customs. She asks what Kurtz's last words were. Throughout the novel, Marlow has made much of his detestation of lies, but, instead of responding truthfully: "The horror! The horror!"-- Marlow lies, ands says that Kurtz died with the Intended's name on his lips. Conrad's point is that, when faced with the choice between an unpleasant truth and a lie which is more consistent with human ideals, we feel forced to tell a lie–and that is the darkness at the heart of the human condition. Truth is unacceptable; civilization is founded on lies.
 

We must admit that any name containing three hyphens may be accused of a soupçon of pretentiousness. Even the single hyphens in Amanda Forsythe-Jones, or Smedley Thurgood-Winterspoon conjure the notion of a somewhat determined-- if not actually desperate-- flight from the ranks of the ordinary to the echelons of the exceptional and the privileged.

Wind-in-the-Pines is a modest nine-room secondary residence which was built to replace a small cabin--circa 1943–situated on a generous lot on an inferior lake some distance north of the Toronto megalopolis. But, in spite of the temptingly easy psychological analysis–that insecurity and compensatory aspirations are at the root of its name–we must hasten to protest such a facile application of fashionable Freudian foolishness.

The original name for the property, High Pine Point, had become unsuitable, partly because the high pine had been ignominiously felled in a windstorm. There was also the not inconsiderable difficulty that the point in question was actually on a neighbouring property.

One of our first thoughts for the name was Folly`s End –a name which had appeal because of its double meaning. The cottage could be regarded as a place of sanity, a place where folly had finally been banished–or–quite the opposite–the end result of folly--a place which served as a warning–a cautionary tale about building modest nine-room secondary residences on an inferior lakes north of megalopolises.

We did consider, briefly, Into My Own –the title of a poem by Robert Frost. In that poem, the narrator speaks of stealing away into a forest that “stretched away unto the edge of doom,” and, if overtaken by those who might miss him, he would be found, unchanged–“only more sure of all I thought was true.” Thus the cottage would be a place of affirmation–a place where one's gloomy perceptions of reality could be justified, deepened, and enhanced.

 

The very best name–Firefly–had, regrettably, already been taken–by that rascal Noel Coward–for his place in Jamaica. It surpasses in quality by a considerable margin names such as Pine Haven, or the perennially popular Rest-a-While and its Scottish counterpart Bide-a-Wee. Indeed, we cannot overstate the brilliance of the name. The firefly is a brief, evanescent glow in the surrounding dark, like the sudden glint of a jewel--momentarily struck by a shaft of sunlight--in a hidden cave, or a transitory spark of animation, perception, or intelligence in a blind, chaotic universe. A place called Firefly must always be a conjurer–drawing from the air the sad and equal notes of brevity and muted fire.

We confess we wished to replicate some of the connotations of Firefly. “Who has seen the wind?”–goes Christina Rosetti’s poem–“Neither you nor I: / But when the trees bow down their heads / The wind is passing by.” W.O. Mitchell, of course, took the title for his book about a young boy’s introduction to the mysteries of life–and death.

The cottage is surrounded by very tall pines, and the wind, while itself invisible, is audible as the trees sway. The wind has something of mystery about it–it is manifest in sight and sound–but is still elusive, like a suddenly appearing spirit, a deus behind the machina, which plays its rôle and then vanishes into stillness. The cottage, too is transitory and impermanent, but symbolic of an evanescent spirit, like the glow of fireflies, like the glint of a jewel, like the spark of animation and intelligence in an extraordinary universe.

And anyway, something --preferably with a lot of hyphens--had to be done to distinguish the place from the original primitive cabin, and the rather inferior lake on which it sits.


 

At the time, reference was made to a much earlier and similar case–I suspect it was in the 1940's–or earlier–in which public opinion was entirely sympathetic to the perpetrator.

In 1997, however, Robert Latimer was found guilty of second degree murder and sentenced to prison with no chance of parole for ten years. A poll conducted in 1999 showed that 73% of respondents believed he should have had a more lenient sentence.

In the most recent (July 20) case of Robert Semrau, the captain was found not guilty of murder in killing an already fatally wounded Taliban soldier. However, Brigadier-General Denis Thompson, commander of Task Force Kandahar at the time of the incident, has recommended Semrau be discharged from the army, and that such conduct is “completely unacceptable.”

These matters represent a clash between ideals–the perfect world we would like to have– represented by the laws we make in the expectation that they will apply to every eventuality–and the real world in which what is “right” is uncertain, and clouded by unique and difficult elements. Over time, it seems to me, we have become less forgiving, and less realistic. It is human nature, perhaps, to hold others to a higher standard than we hold ourselves. It is also, we suspect, human nature to refuse to look reality head on, and take refuge in the world of theory, no matter that the suffering of some in the Procrustean bed of the Ideal is manifestly unjust.

 

It seems, however, legitimate to question whether the benefits exceed the disadvantages. In the case of landlords, forcing them to become agents of the state may be politically popular among tenants, but not conducive to the building and maintaining of an adequate stock of rental units.
 

Finally, we would like to consider the medical profession and its view that high cholesterol is a cause of heart disease. (We can hardly refrain from mentioning also its tendency to classify lower and lower levels of cholesterol, or blood pressure, or salt intake as harmful, with the clear intent of being able to declare entire populations to be in need of medication.) Once again, if a ten-year-old child were informed that many people with high cholesterol do not suffer from heart disease, and that many who have low cholesterol do, and that studies of the elderly have shown that high cholesterol is associated with longevity, not premature mortality, it is quite likely the ten-year old would declare the medical profession’s obsession with cholesterol, and its tendency to prescribe statin drugs at every possible opportunity, to be a perfect example of nonsense. We might note the same factors are present as in the previous examples. The nonsense threatens the believer with heart disease, but holds out the hope of prevention. The message is delivered by experts in white coats. No doctor could dissent from the nonsense without becoming a pariah in his tribe, and he is genuinely convinced (by the big drug companies) that he is helping his patients by prescribing drugs for life, even though dangerous side-effects are well documented. Patients who may disagree with their doctors have an uphill battle, since they do not wish to alienate their health care providers. It’s much easier to go along with the nonsense.

There are many other forms of nonsense–extended warranties on appliances–belief that multiculturalism or human rights commissions are good things–the belief that equality of outcomes is achievable–that human beings are born good–these may all share the listed characteristics to lesser degree.

We realize that some of our readers may dispute our three main designations above. We think it only fair to inform you that The Lumpenbangen Institute has obtained a sophisticated new technology from Apple which allows us to detect your skepticism, and deliver harmful, withering lumpenrays directly to your cerebral cortex. Our team of bio-magnetic induction specialists and electro-molecular transmission neurologists is standing by to deploy these rays at a moment’s notice. We can selectively inhibit the system for a modest series of monthly payments.





 

I was most surprised to see  (Good News June 21) that Maclean's thinks that it should be the choice of a woman to shield her appearance for religious reasons--whether on the street, at work, or in dealing with civil servants. Such practice runs counter to the traditions of this country, where it is considered important to be identifiable.

You state that wisdom is not possible without a “compelling” answer to the question of why there is something instead of nothing–and for you, I assume, that is the “personal God of Abrahamic revelation whose creative love is the answer...” What is compelling for some is repelling to others. You identify God with “creative love” – but you obviously do not live on a planet on which life is only maintained at the expense of other life, a planet subject to the chaotic forces of flood, hurricane, volcano, earthquake, and meteoric intrusion, a planet of viruses, bacteria, deadly parasites and cancer, a planet on which spiders eat their mates, a planet in which the comfortable distinction between man and other living creatures has been erased, and hence, also, man’s “special place” in God’s hierarchy.

No, you live on some other planet altogether.
 

Luc Cagadoc, a seven year old Filipino student in Montreal, appealed to the Quebec Human Rights Tribunal because he was repeatedly reprimanded for disrupting other diners at his school for “eating like a pig” –apparently using a Filipino style eating technique using fork and spoon to “slurp” food into his mouth.

In its infinite Wisdom, the Tribunal awarded Luc’s family $17,000 for racial and ethnic prejudice.

This is the end result of the idealistic notion that all cultures are equal, and that those from other countries must be accommodated when their cultures conflict with Canadian culture. On such grounds, of course honour killings and female circumcision are just fine by us.
 

For some years, it has been our habit to send letters of complaint. We do this for a number of reasons. First, we usually complain when we are angry, and when we are angry, our capacity for complaining orally in a coherent fashion is dramatically diminished. Second, we think that a letter gives a certain gravitas to our complaint. We do not just pick up the phone and yell: we write out our thoughts, and mail them in. Finally, it is always interesting to get the “FO” letter in return.

We usually write to the head of the organization–we feel that writing to the lower levels is rather a waste of time. The letter may be conveniently filed in the waste bin; as well, the letter writer is not usually up to the job, and we have to write another letter to the President or CEO to complain about the incompetence of his employees. We are under no illusions that the Head Honcho will actually read our letter; but we think it likely that it will be redirected appropriately, and is unlikely to end up in the trash.

We remember once we did get a letter from a bank President, indicating that our letter had been received, and that it would be dealt with by Ms. Jenkins (sometimes it’s Ms. Peabody) of the FO department.

Now, there’s an art to the FO letter. The first thing the recipient of the complaint must do is to pretend to be delighted. Thus the Bank President referred to above is likely to say something like:

Dear Dr. Dreimer:

Thank you for taking the time to bring to our attention some of the difficulties you have been experiencing. It was certainly unfortunate that you burst into flames at our Main Street Branch while discussing our policy of selecting Sundays, Saturdays, and public holidays as due dates for Visa payments, thereby ensuring that a certain slack-jawed and woolly-minded proportion of our customer base, who rely on mailed payments will not realize there is no mail delivery on the due dates, and find their late payments are subject to outrageous penalties.

We do hope you are recovering well in the Burn Unit.

I have forwarded your letter to Ms. Jenkins, of the FO Department; she will be in touch with you shortly.

Thank you again for apprising us of your concerns.

Yours truly,


Head Honcho

The FO letter itself, must also pretend gratitude to the complainant. The successful FO letter can take a purely congratulatory but passive and completely non-committal approach. The main idea is, of course, to get the complainant to feel good, to stop complaining, and go away, allowing the bureaucratic system to function in the best interests of the bureaucrats, as it always has.

Thus, Ms. Jenkins’ letter might read as follows:

Dear Dr. Dreimer:

Mr. Honcho has forwarded your letter of April 1, 2010, to my Department.

We are certainly pleased that you have taken time from what I am sure is a very busy day, to voice your concerns. We at the International Thumbscrew, Kneecap, Savings and Loan Bank can only improve service to our loyal customers, such as yourself, if we keep attuned to their needs of the moment and attempt to anticipate their needs in the future.

(Chief Administrator, Thumbscrew and Kneecap FO Department)

P.S.: Ms. Elvira Jenkins-Smythe, the teller who had the presence of mind to access the CED (Customer Extinguishment Device) and put you out, sends her best wishes for a complete recovery. Ms. Jenkins-Smythe is a single mother of four who takes in laundry to supplement her income; she would doubtless appreciate any token of gratitude you might think appropriate.

In spite of the rhetoric, we cannot view multiculturism as a good thing; we see it as inevitably divisive. Multi-racialism, yes; multiculturism, no.

In addition to having deep-seated primitive instincts, mankind is also idealistic, and longs for purity and consistency. Because these are unattainable in the real world, man can always see himself as sinful, and guilt can be a powerful motivating force--something Jonathan Kay notes in his description of the anti-racism workshop above. The current fashion is to pretend that deep seated tribal instincts and preferences for one’s own culture can be overcome by idealistic force of will. Because it would be nice if it were true, there is an attempt to pretend that all cultures are equal–in spite of the fact that societies which offer the most freedom and convenience, the “highest standard of living” are those in which there is a separation of church and state, a scientific and economic entrepreneurial spirit, democracy, and relatively little corruption. The attempt to apologize for modern western democratic cultures and see them as unworthy and oppressive seems to be a peculiar example of modern cultural masochism.

Those who pursue the ideal of equality are particularly interesting. They seem to see it as an underlying reality: if only we could rub away all the perverse and confusing elements, there, beneath all, would be equality: burnished, shining, and pure. In reality, equality is as rare as the unicorn, as possible as the seamless reconstruction of Humpty Dumpty. Deep down, we all know this; but we are loathe to utter unpleasant truths.

Does it sound as though we are arguing for discrimination, prejudice, and inequality? Of course, we are not. We are merely pointing out the Messiness Principle.

In his Notes from Underground, (1864) Dostoyevsky noted the difficulty of schemes for the reformation of mankind:

Gentlemen, I am tormented by questions; answer them for me. You, for instance, want to cure men of all their old habits and reform their will in accordance with science and good sense. But how do you know, not only that it is possible, but also that it is desirable to reform man in that way?

Now, how is the Messiness Principle relevant? The human condition does not allow for simple fixes. One cannot be entirely opposed to the desire for equality, or for the reduction in prejudice, or culturism. On the other hand, one cannot enforce equality or banish cultural preference in a logical, consistent, idealistic manner. (It is particularly unhelpful when all the consistency and accommodation is required of only one culture.) Schemes for the betterment of mankind inevitably contain inherent inconsistencies, the stumbling block of man’s intrinsic nature. Man is NOT a piano key. He is NOT a robot to be fitted into some idealistic scheme of equality and undiscriminating behaviour. That is why Queen’s students’ apologies and task forces on Campus Racism and Human Rights Commissions, and the establishment of workplace equality (as opposed to equality of opportunity) are bound, not only to fail, but have the potential for causing more problems than they solve.

It is time for more freedom, and less political correctness-- for more flexibility, less doctrinaire certainty-- for more pride in the successes of western democratic culture-- and less guilt-ridden hand-wringing which often manifests itself in a self-destructive desire to accommodate cultural practices which are characteristic of societies far less desirable than our own.

 Observation   #38: The “Messiness Principle” suggests that all grand schemes for the improvement of human affairs, carried far enough, and consistently enough, will eventually reveal the internal contradictions which make them ineffective, unworkable, and absurd.
 

THE LETTER:

I have just returned from my 8:15 a.m. appointment at the Eye Clinic.

When I approached the clinic desk, I did indeed notice signs requesting patients with appointments to “STOP” and take a seat. The request seemed so outlandish, that I ignored it and approached the desk. As I was approaching, my temerity was rewarded with a question which ascertained that I did, indeed, have an appointment, and a request to take a seat: my name would be called.

It is certainly not true that common practice is always the best, but it seems to me that the procedure which you are attempting to implement has some significant flaws.

First, it is susceptible to human error. Suppose that I simply THINK I have an appointment for April Fools Day, at 8:15 a.m.? Suppose, in fact, in an unaccountable befuddlement I have mistaken the day, the time, or the place? I know that this next idea will strike you as extraordinarily bizarre: what if–-I hesitate to breathe the notion–the clerks behind the desk should make an error?
 

Angrily,

Dr. Idel Dreimer
 

We have concluded that religious belief is emotional in nature; it answers certain human desires–desires which may even be characterized as needs. We would like to think that existence has some sort of meaning or purpose beyond that which we can perceive or construct for ourselves in our limited journey through time.

The existence of even the tiniest bit of matter is miraculous. It has always puzzled us as to why anything should “exist” at all. We feel awe at the complexity of the universe, the construction of an atom, the sight of a sunset-- or  panoply of stars. There are undoubtedly “more things in heaven and earth....than are dreamt of in [our] philosophy.” What we object to is the weaving of such emotions into a religion, to make conclusions which, ultimately, end up in suicide bombings or Grand Inquisitions.

This is why we think that religion should be, as much as possible, a very private matter, which does not impinge upon the public sphere. We would prefer it to be slightly furtive–something like our own habit of watching Murder She Wrote re-runs rather than celebratory–an admission of irrational need in the face a daunting and impenetrable complexity.
 

 On March 18, Dr. Dreimer informed a member of the Longevity Racquets Club that googling the words “Piano Institute” would lead to a page on which the Lumpenbangen piano site would be listed at the bottom of the first page. On arriving home, Dr. Dreimer tested this instruction and discovered, to his shock and horror, that the website address was not at the bottom of the first page at all. It had been raised to the second listed site on the page.
 

The Sales Pitch (Part 1)    (February 25, 2010)

Once upon a time, when we* were very, very young, we investigated the possibility of a summer job selling encyclopedias. In order that they might acquire a better understanding of the job, potential applicants were sent to accompany salesmen on their rounds.

The salesmen would pick lower-income suburban neighbourhoods, on the cruel but not unrealistic assumption that income and intelligence were co-related. Houses were selected on evidence that children were present. The first pretense was that a “radio survey” was being conducted: had the resident encountered advertisements for the Wonderful encyclopedias on the radio? Once a conversation had been established, the lucky resident was informed that his very home had been chosen to be the neighbourhood showcase of the Wonderful brand of encyclopedia, and he would be given a FREE set.

The word “FREE” is known to have magical powers, and they were immediately evidenced: the salesman was invited in and a lengthy dissertation was made to extol the virtues of the Wonderful reference books. The seductive vision was presented: with knowledge all things were possible. Four year old Eric, currently rushing about the house pretending to be a choo-choo train, might become a calm, decisive, square-jawed captain of industry. Little Matilda, drooling in her food-splattered high chair, might well become a lecturer on Women’s Rights at the University of Toronto. Even slack-jawed Hubert, at eleven already evincing a disturbing propensity for mindless cruelty towards the dog, the cat, and his younger siblings–even he might become an important functionary in one of the as-yet-unconceived Human Rights Commissions.

 

This was our first introduction to “the sales pitch.” It impressed us then, and seems not without a certain curious power, even now.

*We –this should not be mistaken for the “royal” we; it is merely an honest attempt to warn the reader of our multiple personalities.

(To be continued...)
 

An Emergency Meeting of the Literary Policy Committee of the Lumpenbangen Piano Institute was held at the Dreimer Ave. Offices of the Institute at two o’clock today. Dr. Idel Dreimer, the Institute’s President announced that a complaint had been received from B. J. Paterson, of Toronto, to the effect that the metre and line length in many of the items on the Limerick Lane page are not in accordance with the accepted Limerick form.
Wearing the burka which he has recently adopted to thwart the complete Googlization of his person, Dr. Dreimer spoke clearly and distinctly in order to counteract the muffling effects of the heavy cloth garment:

“It was, of course, only a matter of time before our somewhat cavalier attitude towards the rigid Limerick requirements was discovered, and exposed. At the time that we embarked on the “Limerick Lane” experiment, we were aware that much of what we wished to say would not fit comfortably into the precise Limerick configuration. Once one decides to end a first line with “Abdulmutallab” –the achievement of perfection of form is hardly a serious issue.

 

We propose, therefore, to apply to the Canadian Branch of the Literary Purity Society for a special Literary License which will allow us to continue to poke fun at people of whom we disapprove in a form which can only loosely be defined as “Limerick.” We are not overly confident of success. The Purity Society is evil, petty minded, and vindictive. The character of B.J. Paterson may well be analogous. However, at this juncture the move may represent our best hope. Should this tactic fail, we may take some comfort in the fact that the preliminary discussions regarding the removal of our operations to Samoa, are proceeding well.

For the time being, we will allow the force of our humorous insights to trump our literary purity. As an additional tactic, it might be worth asking B.J. Paterson to contribute her own Limericks to our pages. Purity has often been known to succumb to Flattery; the present occasion may well be one to prove the truth of that observation."

 Hamilton, Ontario. At a Press Conference held today at the Dreimer Ave. Offices of the Lumpenbangen Piano Institute, Dr. Idel Dreimer, the President, and Chief Composer, announced that he had been discovered by Google.

Wearing a full burka, with his voice conveying considerable agitation, Dr. Dreimer revealed that, in an idle moment in the previous week, he had googled his own name, expecting the usual response: “Did you mean ‘Idle Dreamer?’–or entries referring to a widget factory in South Dakota, a German Escort Service, or a Website Design firm in South Bend, Indiana. Instead, much to his shock and amazement he found links to his recent contributions to the “atheist quotes” website, www.chrisbeach.co.uk and also to the Lumpenbangen Piano Institute.

“This is a serious development,” said Dr. Dreimer, his voice somewhat indistinct beneath the heavy cloth of the burka. “We have always zealously guarded our personal privacy by wearing an Einstein wig and novelty store nose and glasses, in order not to attract attention, whenever in public. But now, we feel that Google, with its invasive forays into the web, its omnipresent camera capacity, and its formidable resources and databases, may soon discover our true identity.

At a press conference held early today at the Dreimer Ave. Offices of the Lumpenbangen Piano Institute, today, Dr. Idel Dreimer, President and Chief Composer of the Institute, announced the Webalizer results for January, 2010. Appearing in his usual Einstein wig and novelty store nose and glasses, Dr. Dreimer seemed more than usually agitated, as he announced that January figures showed thirteen fewer visits to the Lumpenbangen site than were logged in December. “These results,” he said, “are due in part, of course, to seasonal influences-- to the somewhat milder early part of January, and the somewhat colder weather which followed. These seasonal factors may easily be linked to the disappointing results. When the weather is warmer than usual, people habitually do more walking, skating, skiing, and shopping, as opposed to logging onto obscure and sometimes incomprehensibly elitist websites filled with arcane nonsense and obscure quotations made by dead people that few people have ever heard of. Similarly, when the weather is colder, people are inclined to sit at home in a deep depression, often afflicted by unseemly and debilitating bouts of omphaloskepsis and Boobtubitis.
 

January 18, 2010

At a hastily called Press Conference this morning, the Hamilton Branch of the World Religions Council issued an Extermination Edict against Dr. Idel Dreimer, President and Chief Composer of the city’s Lumnpenbangen Piano Institute.

Speaking for the Council, Dr. Angelus dePhonie, of the Young Men’s Christian Coalition, expressed the growing concern that the Lumpenbangen Piano Institute has become a hotbed of Atheism, and through various observations and Diary entries by Dr. Dreimer, published on an obscure website, seems determined to spread its own brand of noxious nihilism and degenerate doubt to the intellectually vulnerable and emotionally insecure. “We must at all costs, maintain the commitment of our followers to the unbelievably undefinable and the undefinably unbelievable,” he said.
 

1. God is our Father. To Him we owe our being and devotion.

2. God’s wishes are conveyed to us through his priests and ministers. The Pope, of course, but think Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart, Benny Hinn, Billy Graham, Oral Roberts.

3. Hellfire awaits the Sinner.

4. Hellfire can be avoided by repentance, acceptance of God and his Ministers, and change in behaviour involving self-denial.
(a) Hairshirts and self-flagellation. (In an earlier era.)

5. There is no evidence for the statements made about God and his wishes; thus, the certainty of his ministers is fraudulent. Some of them are obvious crooks, and have been exposed as such.

1.Earth is our Mother. To Her we owe our being and devotion.

2.The Earth’s needs are conveyed to us by Al Gore, David Suzuki, Phil Jones, Michael Mann.


3.Unimaginable destruction awaits mankind.

4.Destruction can be avoided by repentance, acceptance of Suzukiism, and a change in behaviour involving self-denial.
(a) Bicycles and fluorescent bulbs.

5.The evidence for statements made about the needs of the earth is conflicting; the certainty of the ministers is fraudulent. Further, some of the ministers have made blatant attempts to suppress evidence which contradicts their theory.


 

I am efficient, and prepared.
First, the small plastic container, filled with water.
Next, the vinyl glove–
(Visions of hantavirus, other microbial malignity–and that sticky stuff!)
Then the cardboard, with mouse attached,
Carefully pulled from the leaves.

A little mammalian squeaking here–
After all–he’s just a smaller version of the cat–
Or me.

Now for the morning dip.
At first, the vigorous struggle,
The attempt to swim to the top,
Then the fading, the bubbles,
The final shit;
The eyes, dark, replete,
Then the downward folding,
Mouth open,
Acceptance at the last.

Millions of years,
Untold deaths,
In the evolution of this
Tiny, delicate marvel;
The myriad electro-chemical mechanisms
Balanced on a hair:
But when you’re out of gas,
You’re outta gas.
Over in a minute.
Seems hardly fair.

The first step in reducing such chaotic responses, in understanding confusing phenomena, is simple: classify, classify, classify. It is a well documented fact that botanists and zoologists, living in their highly classified worlds, have slower heart rates, better digestion, and superior life expectancy,  compared to the population at large. It is probably not unimportant that their language of classification is Latin, a language that has all the serenity and staticity of the undeniably dead.

We propose, therefore, to add to the sum total of human serenity, if not staticity, by classifying some of the major Driving Diseases, and note some of the underlying mental conditions. Although treatment is often difficult, because of the speed and elusiveness of the patients, and their tendency to retreat into a state of denial about their condition upon diagnosis, specialists in the field are increasingly focussed on practical remedies, some of which we will delineate below.


1. Hoggus Sinistris, the compulsive tendency to drive in the left lane of a multi-laned highway, regardless of speed, or the desire of other drivers to pass. This malady is not, perhaps, as simple as it may appear, being a general symptom with a number of possible psychological origins.

(a) It may simply be a case of Juvenis Rottensis, a fairly common condition arising from a misguided attempt by parents and educators to instill a sense of self esteem, or Arrogans Upyoursis, without the legitimizing elements of hard work and accomplishment. If the afflicted driver can be caught and confronted, a calm reprimand combined with –and this does require the assistance of an experienced nurse/practitioner–a surreptitious Deflatio ad flattissimus of the tires of the offending vehicle may prove to be effective.

(b) Particularly if the driver is driving at exactly the posted speed limit, the cause may be Prissimus Maximus, an unfortunate condition arising from the misguided notion that since the speed is governmentally mandated, any greater speed is sinful, and the use of the left lane at the posted speed is a rebuke to the amoral and godless appetites of the unblessed. In some parts of the country, particularly on the East Coast, the condition is referred to as Holius Upyoursis. Treatment of this condition is particularly difficult, as it involves conversion to Wicca, Paganism, or Zoroastrianism.
 

(c) Very occasionally, the underlying cause is simple stupidity, or mentalis vacuus, which can also give rise to some of the other maladies listed below.
 

Daddy? Daddy?