A Blast from the Past

Back in 1995, a vet stole a Patton tank from a local armoury in San Diego. He crushed 40 or so cars in an hour long chase, finally getting caught on a concrete median and shot to death by police.

Imagine a commuter that day.

"Hey honey. How was your day?"

"Well, I almost got ran over by a tank. But otherwise not bad."

Another One About Stars

It's hard to imagine in our little smog infested, light polluted corner of the world, the multitude of stars that are visible to the naked eye in the night time sky. But imagine if you will a scene 4000 years ago in an already ancient desert with the sand at your feet and the cool of night creeping across your skin, smooth and refreshing after the day's heat. In the fathomless darkness overhead rest thousands of lights. Each one a god or goddess or dearly departed soul. It's easy to see how a mere mortal could lose count and think that each dead relative took to blinking in the sky after life. Each new star an old soul. Not a great leap to see how Christianity might interpret the skies above as heaven.

That was 4000 years ago in an already well established society with kings and theology and language and lore. They had architecture and medicine and an understanding of the place of Earth within the solar system. Imagine then the history of those nomadic tribes that must have wandered north in search of peace and plentitude and what they must have thought upon reaching the desert and what made them stay there. Imagine what those nomads must have done to get there, possibly following a star on the northern horizon that never moved. Imagine the importance that star must have had years later when it came time to create a new mythology for a new group of nomads.

And we think on those clear nights on the edge of town or driving home through the country side, "look at all the pretty lights," and wonder what might be out there.

Sen. Flaherty tries to implement knife registration

AP - Senator Horation Flaherty of Wyoming announced yesterday that he is going to propose a new knife registration initiative, similar to proposed ideas of a gun registry. Flaherty, a former District Attornery first came up with the idea in 2001 when trying a defendant for murder. The defendant had used a knife to murder his neighbour during a dispute over a lawnmower. Jake Fibrisi had a history of violence, including three counts of assault using a knife.

“Out here in the Midwest,” says Flaherty, “guns are harder to come by. Knifes [sic] are the weapon of choice for many people. Think about it. Any eight year old can walk into a Bed, Bath and Beyond and pick up a fourteen inch blade with no questions asked. Are we living in the middle ages that anyone can walk the streets baring a sword?”

Flaherty’s proposition has drawn flak from the right. Opponents say it infringes on their God-given right to bear arms. “This is ridiculous,” claims Sen. Jim Reeves of Texas. “Knives are perfectly legal. How are our sportsmen supposed to hunt and fish without their knives? How is my wife supposed to make dinner? How are American families who can’t afford guns supposed to defend their homes?”

Sen. David Mulroney agrees with Reeves, saying that, “Flaherty of all people – a former DA – should know that this knife ban will never hold up in court. Furthermore, knives are an integral part of American society. From time to time they may be used in crimes but studies have shown that by and far these crimes were perpetrated by foreigners and homosexuals. Americans rely on knives to protect themselves from these evil-doers.”

Flaherty’s proposed ban would stop anyone with a criminal record from buying knives of any kind. Only those of age 21 or older with valid ID would be able to purchase knives and would be placed on a seven day waiting list during which time background checks could be performed. Holders would be required to submit their fingerprints to be kept in a database with the Federal Bureau of Investigation as well as being issued a permit. A few experts agree that countless lives could be saved if the knife population could be controlled.

But others argue that controlling knives would be a greater challenge than the cost warrants. “A knife registry accomplishes nothing. It would cost an estimated $48 million (US) to implement. If it goes through, only law-abiding people will abide by it. Criminals will simply buy black market knives from the street, stolen from homes and smuggled in from other countries. When knives are outlawed, only outlaws will have knives,” says Timothy Vasquez of the University of Wisconsin’s criminology department.

Flaherty shoots back that “that’s the point. Catch them red-handed without a permit and you can throw the book at them.” Flaherty also wants to increase the sentencing for knife related crimes. Under his proposition, carrying a knife without a permit could result in a minimum 5 years jail time. Armed assault with a knife could be as heavy as 20 years.

The story goes deeper. Flaherty’s grandson, who cannot be identified due to the fact that he is only 16, was recently caught with a knife at school. “He was only trying to cut his meatloaf, is tough as bricks, it is,” claims Bonita the lunch lady, a foreigner. Still, school security apprehended the youth and he was charged with possession of a deadly weapon. Flaherty is “deeply distraught by this turn of events” and laments that something was not done sooner. “Surely he felt threatened by some other children – children who probably had baseball bats or hardcover books or heavy boots. But the law is the law. If he had had a permit, this would never have happened. I’m sure, however, that he will be exonerated.”

When asked if Sen. Flaherty was behind the gun control registration, he replied, “Good God, no. There are nuts out there with knives. How am I supposed to defend myself with deadly force if knives are banned?”

The preceeding story is complete bullshit. Sounds kind of true, though, doesn't it?

Random Thought #3

Comso is just porno for women.

Business Ethics

Currently there is a commercial running for Biore [?] which begs the reader whether they are "too old for zits? Too young for wrinkles? Then you've been overlooked. You need this brand new product for people who have perfect skin."

All the keys at work are locked in a box which requires a key to open. The box is behind a self-locking door.

Nunc cognosco ex parte

I stood dumbly in the crowd looking around to find a friendly face. None presented themselves though I saw a few I vaguely recognized as people I'd seen on campus or been in large classes with. The marshals ushered us into lines and organized and reorganized us as late comers appeared, double file, alphabetically with higher ranked names to the left.

It was a beautiful spring day - 14 degrees and rising to 20, baby blue skies with tapering wisps of fluffy white cloud hanging overhead as we marched leisurely along the path, up the ramp, across the handi-capable bridge, down the stairs and up the stairs to the podium to take our seats with a few people scampering off to hug relatives and wave to friends before hustling back into line. Sit and stand in honour of our sacred professors looking like clowns in their multicoloured robes and hats and sashes and hoods and belts. Clowns or some silly sacred secret society out to take over the world and sacrifice parakeets to the gods of knowledge. I felt pretty smart in my own green robe and white trimmed hood. Breezy and comfortable but a little heavy and lacking pockets. There were no mortarboard hats for the graduates. Mortarboards used to be for scholars so that they could still be useful members of society.

I couldn't see my family or much of anything else for that matter from my seat in one of the back rows. I could see the trees to my right, the library to my left and the national flags of two dozen countries hanging from the wall of the building opposite me. The flags of Canada, Ontario and the university fluttered in a good breeze over the entrance arch. The girl seated to my right kept texting someone during the two hour ceremony.

The honourary graduate received her diploma and make a twenty minute speech about reducing the use of plastic water bottles - hence our free reusable stainless steel water bottles. [Isn't plastic recyclable? Isn't steel a non-renewable resource? Weren't the plastic cups used to serve lemonade to guests made of plastic? Weren't they making a mockery of the good people sitting at the "green pledge" table?].

I waited as row after row of students stood up and lined up and walked across the stage gladhanding glad hands all the wealthier for the business we had imparted them. My row was called. I stood up and lined up and handed the card with my name on it the guy saying the names, walked up the guy who told me to walk up to the chancellor, walked up to the chancellor, shook her hand and accepted her quick congratulations, posed for a quick photo from both sides, walked on to someone else's quick congratulations and glad hands, past the professors - one of whom bent forward to offer his quick congratulations and glad hand (one I didn't recognize or remember ever having seen) - and filed back into my seat followed by the E's. In the span of fifteen seconds I had gone from young fumbling fool to highly educated scholar and walked into my future. A few more speeches by people I didn't know and didn't care about and a few songs and I was done.

And for all the pomp and circumstance... Well, all the rhetoric they spout behind that podium upon that stage is just that - rhetoric. There's no brave new world out there. I haven't breached the horizon or crossed the threshold of time and space. It's the same world and the same time and place [because it's always here and now]. I'll begrudgingly admit maybe I learned a thing or two in my four years inside those walls [but not the practical kind of knowledge you might learn inside less reputable walls]. But after thirty thousand dollars, I walked away from that school with a few distant friends, a piece of paper, a stainless steel water bottle, a free yearbook and convocation program and a lifetime membership to the OED online. And I can't help but feel a little jilted. Wasn't there supposed to be more to this?

Having actually graduated a year ago and only going through the ceremony this summer, I can safely say I'm not leaping to the head of the pack in leading the world to a better tomorrow. Which is not to say I lack talent. Don't worry, I'm still arrogant in that department... and few others. But it's not like you get a piece of paper and they're hanging on your coattails waiting for you to drop the next bon mot. They aren't banging on your door offering you a job saving the world. It's a tough, grueling world of job hunting to find even menial labour researching documents and entering data let alone become president of the country. Quite frankly it is frustrating that they build up post secondary education as the be all end all of society only to find that when you finish that race, you're just starting a cross country marathon with far more competitors vying for first place and the gold medal.

I have achieved something that less than 1% of the world's population achieves. But then considerably small portion of the population has clean drinking water, too. Still, for all the setbacks and build ups and let downs, I'm not giving up on the dream of sitting on my ass for large amounts of money while my secretary does most of the work. If Bush can do it, so can I.