Large Fierce Mammal

WARNING: This article contains graphic and disturbing images of animal abuse that SHOULD make you angry. Please keep reading.

We live in a shrill world wherein people burn themselves out attacking others over the holding of beliefs and the expression of personal philosophies that they should really have the good manners to stay the hell out of. So deafening is the din arising from this that too many are losing sight of the fact that there are sound reasons for launching a justifiably ferocious attack,  but those are becoming confused and diluted in a sea of bullshit. To find innumerable examples of this phenomenon one need look no further than facebook, the web based manifestation of an organization that can’t even bring itself to capitalize its own name.

The internet is brimming with all the good and promise that one would expect to result from the intermingling of minds. These speak their truth in the light. The internet is also full of spite and hate spread by bullies and other bottom feeders who get their daily dose of jollies from sewing their particular brand of poison, all from the darkness of perceived anonymity they believe will prevent anyone from ever finding out what rock they’re hiding under. It is to this latter group that I will be directing the attention of the first group today.

Some of these are expressions of immaturity put out by people who’ve grown up in a consequence free world. These believe they are entitled to say or post anything, no matter how depraved, and that others will simply have to put up with it because, hey – it’s legal motherfucker! I call this group the “wee shits”. Spawn of egg and sperm doners who have left it to the rest of us to retroactively deliver the short, sharp, scruff shaking corrections that are supposed to come from parenting. These will get a slap down one day and learn their lesson. Some won’t survive it. Which outcome is no concern of mine.

Still others actually are depraved, and seek to spread their depravity for similar reasons to those of the wee shits, but they need more. Their recipe demands an additional seasoning of evil, for true depravity has a voracious appetite that always needs more of itself, and this appetite will build until it is met with a reason to stop. Permanently. (more…)

I first learned about GlobeIn from this article posted last Saturday to George Stroumboulopoulos Tonight. I’ll start with letting GlobeIn explain themselves in their own words:

This is the lamest sales pitch for a fundamentally flawed and self-serving idea I’ve heard in hours. Let’s look at why I feel that way.

To begin, you may have already read my 12 September 2012 article in this series, Wordly Wisdom Wednesday – The Word of the Day is “Swadeshi”. If you haven’t, click the link and read it now. If you have, read it again. Absorb what it says before proceeding here. (more…)

Here I am on a canoe trip with My People. I like being with My People, finding stuff, adventuring in the woods, canoeing, and swimming (when the water’s nice). Do I look like I’m having fun? That’s because I AM, and THAT’S because My People know what I like, and that it isn’t always the same as what they like! Click the picture and you’ll see more of how cute I am, but don’t fucking hug me unless you’re on the list.

I’ve been hearing a lot of bullshit about hugging Dogs lately. Digging around, I turned up this piece of crap that includes so much bad advice for clueless people that I don’t know who to bite first. There’s this:

April 10th is a day dedicated to something you probably do multiple times within every 24-hour span: hug your dog. According to a new survey of U.S. dog owners, 68% of respondents actually hug their pups more often than the people in their lives.

How much do we love grabbing onto our furry friends? 30 percent of those surveyed said they hug their dogs more than their relatives — and 26 percent said that the hug their dogs more than their best friends.

And this:

Most dogs will appreciate your hugs — but who is most likely to reciprocate your affection?

Unless your definition of “reciprocate” includes a trip to the emergency room, how about just assuming the answer to that last part is NOBODY, and adjust your own behaviour to match that? I don’t get why so many people understand where to draw the touchy feely line with other people but think every Dog is just waiting to be man handled at every opportunity. I hear My People swear all the time about how it’s too often said that a “good Dog” is one you can “do anything to”, but they haven’t yet shown me who’s saying that so I don’t know who to bite. I’m biding my time for the great day when we’re out for a walk and that one shows up. I’ll give them a love tap of my own they’ll never forget.

Speaking for myself, I don’t like surprises, especially from people I don’t know. And the broom that lives in the pantry. I won’t trust that fucking thing as far as I can toss it. I do like to snuggle with and kiss My People; non stop given a chance; but I only do that when they give me the right signals, and they do the same for me. Other people should try that model on for size, and best of all, teach your own two legged puppies the same thing. We Dogs don’t let our own babies fuck around while we pretend it’s OK, and you shouldn’t either!

I know Beneful isn’t the only bunch out there promoting this nonsense, but they’re the ones I’m glaring at right now because I’m an ACD and that’s how we roll. We’re focusy like that. I give this whole “hug your Dog day” five out of five bights in the ass, and suggest that instead of encouraging people to risk their Dog’s life posing cutesy pictures of their toddler latching onto its head so they can post them on facebook, you encourage instead pictures of people and their Dogs doing things they all enjoy together, in safety, mutual understanding, and respect. And while you’re at it, don’t just stick it to one day out of the year. We only live so long you know!

If you don’t get that last part, write to me. My advice column, Ask Bitey, is coming soon. Write to me and I’ll tune you the fuck in. Use my official “Ask Bitey” Contact form here. I’ll answer you in April when the feature starts. That’s right – April. In the mean time, I’ve got shit to do.

And that fucking broom to watch.

My dear and most honoured Friend Ryszard,

Wherever you are, I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. As always, and without further delay, let me express to you my undying gratitude for everything good that is in my life, as personified by Diana.

When last we spoke, damn but it’s hard to believe that was nearly two years ago, the glorious news that you are soon going to be a Grandfather for the second time was a long way from even being suspected. While I haven’t seen your Eagle spirit manifest yet this year, Diana has as recently as three days ago right outside our office window, and I have no doubt that it will make its presence known more often as that magickal August date approaches.

You once told me that you had heard we lived in a large house, and that if I ever hurt Diana, you would haunt that house. I feel safe in saying, after all these years, that I never have in the way you meant, nor have you in the way I take your meaning, but this hiding things now and then just for shits and giggles gets a little tiresome when we’re as busy as we are right now, and if you don’t mind, I would ask that you tone it down a notch, at least until October. We expect things like that around then.

We’ll know the sex our your new Grandchild next month, although I suspect you already do. I have also taken on the most honourable task of compiling, with Diana’s help, tales from your life as well as from that of my own Father, Lawrence Whynacht, so our baby can know you both insofar as is possible under the circumstances. I wish you two had met, but he had to leave long before you. He would have loved Diana, and too was a musician and a guitarist. Diana and I often speak of how wonderful it would be to host the two of you together by our fireside. Some day I will write a poem about that.

Kejimkujik Park will be reopening again soon after an ill advised winter closing for the first time since ever, and we will be sending you another nose full of your beloved Birch smoke then. We’re hoping your beloved Izabella will be there when it happens.

Until we speak again my Friend,

And if I may be so bold, your honoured Son,

Randy

Written words are visual guides to the making of sounds that, when uttered aloud, convey meaning. An example is the word “label”.

A label can be a physical object that, when applied to another object, conveys important information about it. What it is, who made it, what it’s made of, how to use it, how long it may be kept, and the best means of storage before use or consumption. Things like that. These sorts of labels abound in today’s world and are vital to navigating the perils and pitfalls of acquiring and using the commodities we take for granted to feed ourselves and our families, clean our homes, ourselves, and possessions, and maintain our surroundings. To wipe our bums and blow our noses. Cure a headache.

And then there’s the other kind of label. This kind also abounds in today’s world, but less as a means of conveying important information than as a short cut around understanding. Understanding requires a desire for knowledge, and a willingness to be observant. To study, think, and draw conclusions. Unlike labels of any description, these attributes are not common in the world. If this type of label is applied to a controversial thing – a firearm for example – or worse yet, a person, the label alone comes to replace the true substance of that to which it’s applied. That’s how we get terms like “gun violence” for example, flying in the face of the fact that violence doesn’t come in flavours, and notwithstanding the implement that is used to bring it about, there is only violence, and it springs exclusively from the mind of its perpetrator

Similarly, there is no “gay love” or “straight love”, there is only love. There is no “gay marriage” or “mixed marriage”, there is only marriage. There are no “women’s rights” or “gay rights”, there are only rights. In not one of these examples is there justification for tagging violence, love, marriage, or rights with a qualifying label branding it as something different from every other expression of it. The term “racial hatred” doesn’t define a special brand of hatred. There is only hatred, and “racial” is the excuse for its existence – a label. The same goes for “religious intolerance”.

Today’s installment of WWW was inspired by my friend Sparky who recently posted a simple question directed to a specific portion of those who know her through facebook:

I have a question for my straight male friends: When you think the word “lesbian” what kinds of images or thoughts come up? Write a word or phrase as a comment. I’m interested in your thoughts for an upcoming article. Go. 🙂

An excellent question. In my experience, the dictionary definition of “lesbian” is not the go to place for many because, alas, “lesbian” has become a label.

Only as used by one for whom the word “lesbian” defines their sexual way of being can the word be relied on to mean what it is meant to mean, but what it means has come to be usurped by what it shouldn’t mean. Sexual preference, for example. What bullshit! People do not “prefer” to be sexually attracted to one another. They simply are. I Love my Wife with every fibre of my being, but not because I prefer to, and nobody is owed an explanation that justifies it. Not even me.

As I’ve gone through life, I have encountered a disappointingly large number of “men” – alas far too often nothing more than another label that usually means little beyond “able to grow pubic hair adjacent to a penis” – who would quickly take violent umbrage were they to be the recipient of sexual advances from another man, but lack the understanding to realize that an unwanted sexual advance is an unwanted sexual advance regardless of the sex or level of attractiveness of the source, and the level of politeness inherent in one’s approach to declining or accepting it must be entirely dictated by the manners and respect expressed by the other person. There is a time to tell someone to fuck off or else, but their sex should never have anything to do with it.

It must also be understood that when a woman declines the advances of a man, for him to declare the only possible reason for the occurrence to be that she is a lesbian renders him deserving of another label that I think you can probably guess.

It’s all too often said that ménage à trois is every man’s fantasy. More bullshit. I once had a conversation with a “man” who expressed a similar sentiment, and naturally his libido drew him toward the presumption that the scenario would include him in the company of two women. Bastard that I am, I encouraged him to elaborate on what he found exciting in the whole thing and the upshot was that,“… watching two women going at it is hot!”

So I asked, ” OK, you have this fantasy and your woman agrees to help it come to pass. A pretty big gift I would say. Then, in all fairness she asks for the opposite arrangement from your side. I think that if you’re prepared to ask for one, you should be just as ready to offer the other, don’t you?”

That brought about a very quick end to the conversation, and also to what the word “lesbian” brought to my mind when Sparky asked.

I could go on but you asked for just a few words me darlin’, and I hope these help you with your article.

No beard back then, but I do have beer. I believe this was taken the day beer was invented. It was green due to chlorophyll content, and when exposed to sunlight it made more beer! Alas, the recipe has been lost. (click to enbiggen)

It’s all about the booze and the music today. I can’t pour you a dram through the internet, ‘though you all know I would if I could, but at least I can share a little LFM musical preference.

This Dennis Leary classic should need no big fanfare of introduction. Have a listen!

My Friend Peter Thompson has my assurance that I will honour his request to sing this over the corpse at his wake. If the corpse is his, well then all the better, but I’m not fussy. Come to think of it, he first asked me to do this a couple years ago, and I’m starting to doubt his sincerity about dying. So much so that I’ve suggested a practice wake … kind of like a wedding rehearsal for the living dead. Listen to this while you think on that.

Your new columnist, Bitey McBighterson. Click the picture to enbiggen his glory!

In human reference, “al dente” is a word used to describe a cooked state of food, typically pasta, in which it is still firm when bitten. But to an Australian Cattle Dog, al dente isn’t about food. It’s about everything! To them, it describes a state of mind and a way of being! In the original Italian, al dente literally means “to the tooth“, and now yer talkin’!

Long heralded and now about to become reality, let this stand as official announcement of a new and semi-irregular LFM feature – Al Dente – With Bitey McBighterson! Beginning Saturday, 30 March 2013 and appearing whenever he gives a shit, Bitey will give you his unbridled, well gnawed interpretation of current events. After all, what better source to bring order out of chaos than a herding Dog who’s not afraid to deliver a nip if he thinks it’s necessary?

Saturday, 30 March 2013 – keep the date open!

With all due respect sisters, I’ll prefer a good Dog watching my back any day.

Inspired by impending Fatherhood I find myself thinking more and more of the lullabies and bedtime stories that have been crafted over the centuries to sooth the mind and calm the fears of a counterproductively sleepy child. A recurring theme is the monster under the bed and how to deal with it.

Any Parent worthy of the name knows the value of a well timed sword thrust under the mattress or the dramatically thunderous emptying of a revolver into the dark hidey hole of the bedroom closet to cleanse it of the insensate evil lurking there, but most will acknowledge that in such cases, a simple and uplifting story can be the equal of a thousand rounds expended, is one hell of a lot cheaper, and doesn’t leave you with a gun to clean after the child is asleep.

Members of the LFM Canine Household Cavalry figure prominently in what follows. A few ended up being left out, and this had nothing to do with any intentional snub. Just that, as you will see, Gunner ate the monster before they had a chance to get involved. Bed time comes an hour early tonight, and I think this is as good a time as any to present …

The Monster Under the Bed

An LFM sleepy time story

You cannot let a monster lie
That lurks beneath the bed.
Never leave them there unless
You want to wake up dead.

But you’ll be safe, my little one
From monsters night and day.
What happened to the last one
Makes the rest stay far away.

For you live midst a Pack of Dogs,
Stout guardians, one and all!
Who sleeps within their watchful sphere
No evil will befall.

Good Milo who is black as night
No monster will abide,
For when his nose has caught its scent
There’s nowhere it can hide.

And so it was, a year ago
That Milo caught the smell
Of something hiding in the house
From blackest pits of Hell.

Whate’er the monster had in mind
Would never come to pass.
No option did it have but RUN,
Good Milo on its ass!

The monster screamed as Milo raised
His baying hue and cry,
And hearing him his brethren came
To help the monster die.

Red Robbie from Down Under
Was the next into the fray.
He headed off the hellish thing
And tore its nose away.

A rusty, furry cannon ball
No quarter did he give.
No monster dare face Cattle Dog
That has a hope to live.

A Min Pin’s made for killing Rats
And things that don’t belong.
When something must be driven out
It ne’er takes Minnie long.

And though she may seem miniscule,
No thing to conjure fear,
All fourteen pounds of Min Pin
Latched upon the monster’s ear.

The beset and frantic Monster
Broke straight through the kitchen door,
But instead of gaining safety
It was worse off than before.

For Gunner grabbed it by the scruff,
And shook that thing so hard,
Its arms and legs all flew straight off
And rolled across the yard.

It’s known that German Shepherd Dogs
Won’t leave a job half done.
Gunner rounded up the parts
And ate them, every one.

So never fear, my little one,
No evil can betide
Who sleeps in perfect safety with
A Dog on every side.

Sixteen weeks as of yesterday, and the SFM is ticking along like a little but fast growing clock. As I meditate on life with whoever has the honour of bestowing the treasured Title of Mother on Mrs. LFM, and Father upon me, I’m honing my repertoire of musical talents against the day when they will need to be deployed in that mode. Thanks to this tutorial courtesy of Farmer Hogget, I’m getting this classic down, and loving the choreography!

Man is a social animal, and a fundamental departure from the Way of the Wild as it is meant to express itself in Man occurs when the value of individual contribution becomes subjugated to serving the role of cog in the machine. Treated as a mere tool, quick and cheap to create and all too easily thrown away when broken or worn out, the Spirit of Man languishes in miserable solitude even in the midst of a throng of his kind, ever immersed in the message that the value of each human is measured by his or her ability to consume.

In his splendid article, Gandhi’s Swadeshi – The Economics of Permanence, Mr. Kumar reveals lessons of incalculable and timeless value from the philosophy of a man who once grappled with restoring economic potency and independence to a population that had long languished in servitude to greater powers – Mahatma Gandhi. In his words you’ll hear echos of the battle cry that right now stirs the building realization of the threat to the Earth that is represented by big government in the service of big money, and moves a growing percentage of the population toward a smaller focus –  support of local Craftsmen as a first choice, buying meat and produce directly from Farms or Farmer’s markets, and seafood directly from Fishermen. Toward self-sufficiency on a community level by taking steps toward eliminating the intrinsic vulnerability that comes of absolute dependence on a centralized source of essential supplies, with its own agendas and priorities …. ~ Worldly Wisdom Wednesday – The Word of the Day is “Swadeshi”

I heard echoes, most particularly of the last sentence of the excerpt quoted above, in a CBC News article posted yesterday bearing the headline Power executives pulled bigger paycheques in 2012, and the subtitle Four executives broke the $1M-mark, with one exec receiving a 25 per cent increase. This was in reference to executives of the Nova Scotia Power Corporation (NSPC), the outfit that, unless you live off the grid, sells you the electricity that drives every Nova Scotian coffee maker. The same outfit that comes back to the Public Utilities Commission every year for permission to put rate increases into effect because they just can’t get by on what they’re making.

Living in Canada it’s easy to become acutely aware of just what a high value commodity energy is. Governments espouse programmes to foster development of “renewable” and “sustainable” energy sources while at the same time taking credit for a steady march of “economic growth” driven by unbridled consumption. These are fish that cannot coexist forever in the same pond.

Today we have some interesting terms entering the lexicon. One is “energy poverty”, and it means exactly what it says – the heat and light version of the age old truth that, if you can’t afford something, you can’t have it. But this is obvious, and entirely old school. The NSPC is a corporation with responsibility to its share holders, and they naturally expect return on their investment. Their firm produces and sells a commodity that is absolutely essential to mainstream Nova Scotian life because like the rest of Canada, the growing concentration of urban dwellers and technology dependent industries can’t function without it. Until alternative technologies can play a meaningful role in their lives, moves, “Toward self-sufficiency on a community level by taking steps toward eliminating the intrinsic vulnerability that comes of absolute dependence on a centralized source of essential supplies, with its own agendas and priorities,” will be slow at best. So we have a situation as old as life itself – that of the “haves” and the “have nots”. But what of the “needs” and the “need nots“? Consider the impact of this for a moment.

Methods of generating and conserving  energy on a local, or even individual level, are enjoying more development and marketing than ever before. Techniques and technologies that once were cutting edge, and deployable only by those with advanced engineering expertise are rapidly becoming affordable, “off the shelf”, “plug and play” options. As prices drop, comfort and interest spreads in the marketplace, driving more research and further product development. What happens if this phenomenon begins to spread faster than the old school, heavy duty centralized infrastructure can adjust to it? If suddenly, due to a combination of user level energy generation, efficient heat capture from “free” and Natural sources, introduction of new devices that do the same job on a fraction of the energy required before, and hyper efficient storage and insulation methods engenders, in the space of a very few years, an energy marketplace populated by precipitously fewer “needs” – those dependent on the old way of doing things – and a growing one of those who no longer require its involvement in their lives – the “need nots”.

When governments consider national or provincial “energy strategy”, it would be my advice to them that they keep this unavoidable scenario in mind, and not stand in its way.