Posts Tagged ‘lesson

11
May
22

Mistakes That Cannot Teach

***

When I was younger, I was seemingly raised to be a tense and worrisome perfectionist. I grew up worrying about every little scrape I might get and every red mark on a piece of homework and test. It didn’t occur to me until my teens that my family was trouble for my otherwise carefree soul.

I read about the “scarlet letter” and thought that was only something that happened to people from another time and place or when you did something so scandalous that people thought it was a sin. But, not every “scarlet letter” comes from sin. It can come from more common peer pressure, just for being different. And, it can be placed upon yourself when you feel like something you did wrong cannot be undone.

I’ve heard more than once that it’s okay to make mistakes because you are supposed to learn from them. But, how do you learn from a mistake that cannot be amended?

If you fail to do something at a once-in-a-lifetime moment, how can you learn anything? If there is such a thing as reincarnation, odds are you won’t remember the mistake you made–if the opportunity reappears for some strange repeating-life reason–unless you get hit with deja vu in time to spare the repeat mistake.

If there is only one of something in a game or your world, and you miss, break or lose it, it’s gone. If it’s “only a game,” there’s a chance you MIGHT be able to start over, retrace your steps and get that rare opportunity, again. But, it’s not guaranteed in every game. Especially with modern video-gaming, there are times when an opportunity cannot be reset, when an event or brief chance to get something comes and goes away. You didn’t see the notice? You didn’t participate in the week-long event? It’s gone. You missed it…and all that came with the opportunity.

What do you learn from that? If you came across another one-of-a-kind person, item or other opportunity, how would you know it’s that rare or precious until it’s gone? Would losing one one-of-a-kind something enforce you to grab everything and everyone that comes into your life from the moment you know you missed one? Wouldn’t that just as likely make you excessively tense and greedy and lead to hoarding? You could end up with a home full of stuff and a social life full of people you don’t need just because you felt a need to secure each and every one/thing that came within reach.

Some would say forget calling the incident a mistake. So, what then DO you call it? A…MISSED OPPORTUNITY? Is that any better? Do those two words sound better than the previous one? I missed an opportunity; let it go. I made a mistake; let it go. Is there a difference?

It might seem tolerable to make such a mistake when it doesn’t affect your body and/or soul. But, what if it does? What if that once-in-a-lifetime mistake costs you a part of your body and/or leaves you handicapped? What if your mistake resulted in making you a monster or doomed you to an afterlife of torture? Or, what if it leaves you penniless and…soon enough…homeless? Sure, some who wind up homeless find a way back to “riches,” if Hollywood and professional-sport survival stories are true. But, that’s not a guarantee (for everyone).

Just out of curiosity, would you say Adam and Eve ate the forbidden apple (from the tree of knowledge in the Garden of Eden) because they were told it was a rare (and forbidden) opportunity or simply because they were hungry? The story seems to suggest they were curious about the forbidden tree or made curious by the serpent (not to mention God, who supposedly told them about the tree and warned them to avoid it) which ultimately coerces them to eat the apple.

Gee. They missed an opportunity to preserve their innocence and lost their paradise by eating some apple. Lesson learned. Right? MMmmm…I don’t know.

Surely, there were a number of apples in that tree. Was there only one moment in which Adam and Eve were safe to reach the tree? Could getting an apple have been like robbing a bank at which there is only a brief period when no security guard, camera and/or seal is protecting the loot? Was the tree or its apples going anywhere? Did the tree wither away or get up and leave the garden if Adam and Eve hesitated?

When Adam and Eve ate the apple, they “learned” about nudity and humility and were made to believe they had committed a terrible sin; the guilt-filled thoughts were put into their heads. When they left Eden, they had to learn how to survive, a second time/way. But, how could they learn from their biggest mistake if it never reappeared? It’s not like God was the sort of father who said, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” And, after that verbal bit, he just lets Adam and Eve back into the house. Adam and Eve didn’t get temporarily put in a corner or sent to bed without supper for one night.

Is there a second story about meeting a serpent in which Adam and Eve turned their noses and refused to be fooled, again?

There is a way to put all of this out of mind and attempt to return to that innocence Adam and Eve once knew. There is a saying. Life goes on…until it doesn’t…until it ceases, whether you did wrong or right.

Adam and Eve’s “mistake” did not end their lives but it took away their home in Eden. Life went on, bringing them a couple of crazy kids who couldn’t live together for long. And, many years later, here we are.

Is anything worth calling a mistake or missed opportunity? We have SOME control. Yet, even that remains uncertain. We can avoid things that do harm. But, we cannot guarantee avoiding one thing won’t cause another.

Maybe, the next time you do something “wrong,” whether it’s in a one-time-only video game or something closer to home/your precious life, you could dismiss the thought of guilt with three simple words.

Life goes on.

Well, not every life story ends like Disney’s Frozen. Does it? The people we hurt don’t always forgive and/or survive the harm we cause. Spirits of the fallen don’t magically reappear in visible (blue) form to smile and forgive us (even if some of us are fortunate enough to have visions). Some “ice” doesn’t seem to melt. Can we all just…let it go?

If only putting these “little stumbles” out of mind was easier. But, if it was…easier…we might become exceedingly careless and ruin everything for everyone even quicker than we already seem to be doing.

Now, you might be wondering what prompted me to write all of this at this time. Or, I just made you curious, like the serpent in Eden. Well…it’s a video game I (foolishly) played. I made a mistake. [Some would say it was a mistake to even start the game, like Jumanji.] And, the only way to undo that mistake would be to erase all the saved data and start over…which would cost me countless hours of retracing my steps. At least, there is that chance. But, is it worth the time and effort? Still, I awoke this morning, thinking what a mistake I had made, and I couldn’t let it go.

I have made other mistakes, in video games and life, mistakes I cannot undo/fix, and it seems impossible to learn from them. I’m not going to have “another opportunity” unless I repeat this life…and I surely don’t want that, even if people in TV shows and movies say “I would do it all over and wouldn’t change a thing.” No. I cannot imagine reaching the end of this life and being okay with reliving it unless the end was so miraculously blissful that the value of the prize was worth the torment. Instead, as much as I try to forget the mistakes, they remain with me. And, maybe that’s a mistake, too. But, it’s what I do.

Tell me it’s a mistake, and I’ll add your complaint to the pile. Or, help me to forget the troubles and to find a happier path through what remains of this life.

Some days, I find myself looking at other animals in nature and wondering how much simpler life would be if I was one of them. How simply wonderful and carefree it must be to live life as a squirrel, hunting nuts and seeds, building nests and chasing mates. Then…I start to wonder if they don’t say the same thing about us humans. And, what if the life we think is simpler is just as vexing as our own?

Ain’t humanity grand? We are all just so darn grand special with our abundance of thoughts. Thanks, mom and dad, for eating that apple. [Happy parents’ day. Ka-runch.]

02
Jun
21

How Many Memorials Do You Need to Cover a Planet?

*****

That is my essential question.

If you watch enough TV, you see plenty of stories about REMEMBERING, preserving memories and erecting memorials to EVERY tragedy under the sun, big or small.  Someone died?  Make me a memorial.  A ton of people died?  Make  another memorial.  Someone did something really bad somewhere and trashed the place?  Make a memorial.  WE CANNOT FORGET WHAT HORROR HAPPENED HERE…OR ANYWHERE.

What sparked this focus?  Well, let me tell you a story…a rather long story.  So, you might want to get comfortable…

I found a weathered antique that I thought must be valuable…because it’s an antique…and people made a whole “Roadshow” about finding value in such things…sometimes values in the hundreds and thousands. It turns out the item is part of a terrible time in human history, a time when my ethnicity was dragged through the mud of ridicule and stereotypical abuse. [Then again…that sort of talk is STILL happening.] It gets a low auction rating/value, according to an appraiser. But, I’m told to display the item as if it were in a museum, to never forget that horrible time in history….

[Disclaimer:  The above story is true but not about myself.  It is my perspective on something I saw on TV.]

WHAT IS WRONG WITH HUMANKIND?!?!

BURN IT! BURY IT! DESTROY IT! DON’T PUT IT IN A GLASS BOX!

You know what typically happens in the movies when people put horrible things in glass boxes or on pedestals. Some dumb archaeologist or thief decides to take it and causes a catastrophe.

I’d ask the rhetorical question. Are you nuts? But, clearly, many if not all of us are if keeping the worst of the past alive to remind us all of the horrors is considered–by anyone–a good idea. So many damn memorials to tragedies, disasters and deaths of large quantities of people. How does anyone expect to see the sunny side of life if we are surrounded by and bombarded with tragedy and horror?

Where are the memorials of the good humans have done? Is the best example of good just the religious statues of supposed gods, saints and prophets? People we, who are currently living, probably never knew or can clearly say existed, yet we pray to and believe in them; we cherish them like a kid with his favorite stuffed animal. Where are the memorials of triumph and survival? Not trophies from sporting events where lots of money is passed around by those with greater resources while the athletes risk their lives on display. Not monuments made to men in high offices who may or may not have served their country well. Some…signs of good human nature and values. I cannot even name one, right now. Is there such a thing? Are they all hogwash, now?

I have a disfigurement that may or may not be associated with my parents’ neglect. I do not preserve it as a badge of honor or something to show people when I want to tell–one more time–how I no longer respect my parents the way I did as the “good little boy” I once was trying so hard to be. The only reason I haven’t had it fixed is a combination of sheer terror at the diagnosis I was given and some twisted self-therapy notion that I hope people will accept me for my personality and not be so concerned with my tragically flawed physique. Heck. I was flawed at birth because my parents let some doctor tell them I had to be born NOW, not later. And then, that same doctor said I should have surgery on my skull to prevent brain damage…damage he caused by pulling me out in haste.

I don’t want to show of my disfigurement and recant the painful stories of my youth over and over and over again. I’m sure as heck not going to stand naked on YouTube and talk about the horrors of my past. And, if there was a better way to fix the “problem” (than what I have been told and the cost I anticipate), I’d get it done.

But, I get it. Those who want this hot mess are angry and upset and sticking it to those who caused the hardship and those who turn a blind eye to crime and other troubles.

Yet, there are probably just as many who would like to live their lives in peace who had nothing to do with the trouble and are not so well off that they are trampling the victims of the past. Just because someone is “white” doesn’t make them a supporter of slavery or racial abuse.

As much as I might like to shake a furious finger at my parents and hope others share my scorn, that attitude is not going to help me get on with my life. I’m not going to be a better person by harboring resentment and toting the painful memory. Nor am I going to feel better 20, 30 or even 50 years from now, looking at that history in a book or museum. I’m not going to see that horror and say, “Mmm. That was tragic. It’s good I preserved the memory. Now, the world can relive my pain.”

Sure; it might be good to know if you were a “fan” and wanted to know the intimates of my life. But, who can predict the existence of such historians? And, who preserves every bad thing that happened in their life so future generations can learn about it?…considering, among those generations, there will be plenty of “bad eggs” who would misuse the information. History certainly shows how people can twist a story and use it for evil. Ask anyone who is skeptical about the history of popular holidays.

I think back to my school days. I had teachers trying to cram tons of–well–useless information into my young brain when what I really needed to learn was how to function in the modern world, how to take care of myself and fit in with people both younger and older than me. Instead, I received a diploma in all sorts of historical matters that might be good to replay in a museum if I was giving a tour…but otherwise are just skewed stories on rotting paper.

I am a fairly religious guy and give adequate respect to religious texts and places of worship. But, even I can tell the Catholic/Christian Bible is not a documentary on ancient Christian people. Many of the stories are more like fables than diary entries. Yet, the Bible is one of the most talked about and preserved books in human history. WHY? [Maybe people just looove storytelling.]

Now, imagine what is happening right now or even all the stories we’ve heard about things that happened in the 1960s…a few thousand years from now…being recanted in schools and museums. Do you really think any of this will matter? What if history repeats itself? What if humans continue to be ignorant and learn nothing from the abundance of history they are provided?

People today are not learning from the history I was force-fed. They aren’t much wiser. The weapons just get more destructive and sophisticated. Heck, the planet pays every day from past use of radioactive materials and chemistry that harms the environment. No museum necessary.

WHY WASTE THE TIME AND ENERGY ON PAINFUL HISTORY?!

[In April of 1986, the Chernobyl disaster happened, and, to some extent, it’s still there, still tragic.  In June of 1987, Peter Parker married Mary Jane Watson in Shea Stadium.  Yes!  There was a live staging of this blessed moment in comic-book history!  And, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a footnote in some book or on some website about it.  [I faintly remember seeing a blip on some morning news program about the wedding, as a kid who was just starting to like comic books.]  Is there a statue of Peter and Mary Jane anywhere near that stadium?  Does anyone talk about the wedding?  Probably not as much as they will talk about countless disasters and memorials to them.  You hear more about the tragic end of Princess Diana’s life than you hear about Pete and MJ.  Sure, go ahead and criticize me for favoring fictional characters.  😛 ]

We don’t have to glorify the fools of the present, either. But, we sure don’t need to carry all the horror behind us. If you were struggling to travel across a hot desert and could only carry so much on your back, would you take the pain you and your “family” experienced or just the essentials you’d need to survive the trip?

You’re alive. You made it through. If your family and friends were impacted, I’m not saying forget they suffered. But, don’t erect a statue for every person who died. And, even if you experienced tragedy, don’t let it stop you from living a good life. Don’t shove it in the faces of others who may not properly process the information, either.

Not everyone will respect your sorrow or understand. Eventually, the planet WILL run out of surface space. Even graveyards get run over by new generations and new developments. Did anyone erect a memorial for my favorite dinosaur when the meteor hit Earth? I don’t think so. And, as far as I know, no one’s working on a park exhibit to bring “her” back to life and protect the endangered species. I’d really freak out if anyone tried; and not in a good way.

So…I’m watching this episode of that “Roadshow” and seeing a famous person talk about a collection of historical items which are not doing any good for anyone and probably should not be discussed or displayed anywhere. If you knew nothing about the pieces, you might say, “Oh. Those are unique ethnic figurines.” But, once you hear the story behind them–if you have a conscience, at all–you might wince and wish to look away.

WHY do we need to preserve every bad thing or bad incident for future generations to replay? Is all of that really going to make a good impact on “kids” so they make smarter decisions? With the way the world is sinking into an abyss of technological distractions and everything coded under the silicon sun, who are we expecting to take a look at all of this painful history and make good on it?

What good is expected from preserving these nightmares and bad days in our history? More museum ticket purchases? Yes, please, take my money and let me stare for hours at tragedy and horror. Show me more people dying, suffering and being mistreated so I never forget.

I think my days in school with ancient history about the barbaric practices was quite enough to know humans can and have been quite horrible and probably should never cross paths with life from other planets, unless those lifeforms are as bad or worse. And, if they are worse, then we are all screwed, anyway.

SCREW YOU WHO FAVOR MEMORIALS OF EVERYTHING TRAGIC AND HORRID! You want to weep? Then weep and make peace with what happened before moving on with LIFE. Otherwise, you can spend eternity carrying a boulder up a slope before it pushes you back down to start the climb, again.

It happened. But, the rest of the world doesn’t need to relive it or review it the rest of their lives. And, Heaven forbid someone tamper with the evidence so the history becomes skewed. Oh no…humans would never alter history to make it appear different in future school books. [Can you detect my sarcasm?]

Stop preserving every little piece of painful history you find and LIVE your life or be buried and rotted with your STUFF you refuse to let go. A hundred years from now, what you value or refuse to leave behind won’t matter to anyone but the few descendants born with either miraculous memory or the acursed desire to hoard your past. If you feel the need to tell stories, you don’t need models and charts. That’s school and courtroom bullshit.

But, I get it. Ultimately, “to each their own.” I just don’t want to be bombarded with the horrors of mankind the way these rampant drug ads with horrific side effects keep dominating my TV time. Just because I know mosquitoes can be deadly doesn’t mean I need to hear it every day or year. Teach me how to protect myself, truthfully, don’t just tell me how horrible they are and what I should buy to feel safer (as if). Bring back those remotely charming “mascots” of commercial history and retire those F’n toilet-paper bears, already.

I’m not Andy Rooney, but, if you’ve read everything I have to say, you’ve probably been here 60 minutes, give or take.

Who’s Andy Rooney?

I dunno. Google it, maybe?

Tick, tick, tick, tick…….

19
Jul
20

Bud Light, Family Insight; It’s SO Me!

***

There’s a new Bud Light beer commercial that does a great job of giving others a glimpse of what it’s like to be me in this world…or, rather, inside my head, faced with numerous people telling me how I do things is wrong and, consequentially (though that bit is not covered in the commercial), being uneasy about trying to do various things for fear of people correcting me and adding to my despair/frustration.

The commercial features a guy preparing for a party with his family. He attempts to fill a cooler with drinks and ice, only to have members of the family (and a rooftop repairman?) tell him how to do the simple task (better). His last resort is to turn to his father for emotional support. Dad replies with, “You need to crush the ice, son.” And, that’s the last straw; that sends him out of the picture.

And, that is essentially how I feel most days. When I let my guard down, someone will likely appear to tell me what I am doing wrong. And, I will, once more, bristle and come to the conclusions 1) I cannot do anything right…or please everyone and/or 2) I will just have to go on doing things the “wrong” way because that is how I manage to do those things without feeling caged/manipulated.

02
Apr
19

Writingbolt’s Foreign Scribble Breakdown #1: Love

****

Providing you with the kindness of my own personal explanation of foreign language symbols.  I’m not exactly learning or teaching anything passed down/on to me.  This is more of a fun exercise in using my imagination.  But, it may be of some amusement and benefit to your understanding.

Today’s lesson is about LOVE.  [More lessons will follow.  More if there is any genuine interest from an audience.]

love-kanji-explanation_writingbolt-wordpress-humor-13002350-1

 

28
Dec
17

The Trials of Old PC Software and New PCs

*****

I should have learned my lesson by now.  And, hopefully, I never repeat this in the future.  I never was a big fan of PC gaming.  But, I did come across a few games I thought might be fun.  Alas, I am not the best at comparing requirements and thus have made more than enough mistakes.  I’ve invested in now useless disks that might as well be turned into modern art.  I’m just here, telling anyone who cares to read into it, how my experience with installing older games on a new PC has gone.  I had asked around, but no source seemed to grab me with useful information.  No one I know seems PC smart enough to know what will or won’t work.  Thus I was left to take the risks all by myself.

In short, the lesson I learned:  DO NOT try installing older PC games on a new PC.  [And, my previous computer lesson:  DO NOT try modifying a computer with alternate parts like memory strips and hard drives.  If the PC does not come the way you want it with all of its parts already in place, look for another model.]

I have a rather new Windows 10 model laptop.  It should be able to handle just about any game you throw at it, minus those really intensive 3D and first-person games you see for the hardcore gamers which require a gaming PC.  You would think any old 3D game would work on a new PC even if it’s not a gaming PC.  After all, the technology has advanced a fair amount since Win Vista.  But, no.

I got lucky with 3 older games:  Paradise, AGON and Mysteryville 2.  All of which said they worked with PC as long as you met some rather low requirements (in new PC standards) and had, at least, Win XP, maybe Vista.  Nothing about being good for older PCs; I have no idea how Win 98 could have handled some of the stuff these games put out.  But, surprisingly, of about the 10 games I tried to install, these three worked.  Most of the others were kicked out right away without installing; the PC told me they would not work.  And, the uninstall bit was fairly easy.

The good news (if you get the chance or care to play these):

PARARISE:   It’s a bit of a shoddy short story about a young woman (I’d guess 21-25 years old and very shapely, for whatever reason…) who is flying to visit her father in some odd part of Africa when her plane is shot down, causing her to forget everything before she is taken in by a harem prince.  You would think your mission is to restore your memory and reunite with your dad.  But, it’s not that simple.  And, the ending is…not great.  But, this is a beautifully rendered game with a nice soundtrack and puzzle system.  If you like those Resident Evil type games, this one is decent without the horrors.  You can save as many slots as you like to replay certain parts.  You can view the cut-away scenes separately, once you acquire them.  You get to play certain stages as a panther, which aren’t very long or impressive…but you get to play as a panther.

AGON:  This is just one part of a larger story, though I am not sure if this is part 1, part 2 or parts 1-3 of what is supposed to be a 12-14 part story.  It’s based on some games and other story/stories found somewhere.  I got the game as part of a collection of PC games, not knowing what to expect but having low expectations.  I was greatly surprised how nice this game actually turned out to be!  It’s a MAJOR brain challenge for which you’ll likely want a walkthrough found online.  I just didn’t have the time/brainpower to figure out the very puzzling puzzles.  And, there are way too many books to go through within the game.  Yet, those books are like a digital library of information that could potentially be used in other projects, if you write that sort of thing.  You can find alphabets from other languages, for example.  Like Paradise, this is a very decent 3D perspective, exploring game with both mind and physical puzzles to complete in various lands.  There’s a beautiful isolated island beach stage and a refreshing–though bleak–snowy winter stage.  You are collecting ancient board games and stones which combine to unlock some greater secret yet to be understood.  You play a sort of stocky Sherlock Holmes who is corresponding with his research assistant Watson back home as you travel the world.   When I completed this one, again, it felt a bit underwhelming as this is just a segment of a larger story.  But, just exploring the various worlds/stages is a treat.

Mysteryville 2:  I wanted to get Mysteryville 1, but it said it was for older PCs; so I passed.  Now I wonder if it would work.  This is a sequel to a mystery about missing cats and a major test of eyesight as you search various places for hidden items and put together jumbled slide puzzles to solve a mystery about an art show that may not be what it seems and a missing “friend” who may not be who he seems.  I poured myself intensely into this one and completed it in a few days because I kept wanting to get to the bottom of it.  When all was solved, I wasn’t sure what to think or do.  I think I liked the music best, very Twin Peaks mysterious.  I have gone back to replay a few of the puzzles, now and then.  It’s better, in some ways, than another hidden item game I had on my last PC, one about fairy crystals and a missing husband (which still doesn’t make total sense with me).

If any reader has more information on these games, like where to get others in the series (if there is a series) and/or if they work on new PCs, let me know.

Now, to the ugly business of erroneous installations.

What prompted me to write this piece was a good-looking game from 2002 called Freedom Force in which you can design superheroes and complete about 20 missions against all sorts of premade comic villains.  It all sounded good, and the requirements didn’t seem out of my range.  It installed beautifully!  If it wasn’t going to work, why did I get treated to all sorts of images?  It asked to install Direct Play which I accepted but turned down Game Spy Arcade as I thought that was some additional game or online option I did not figure would be any good anymore.  After all, chat rooms aren’t what they used to be, and plenty of sites close shop in a handful of years.  After installation, I could not get it to play.  It said I had to log in as administrator and try again.  I see no way to do just that, so what was I to do?  I checked my requirements and found my PC was an NT?  Not fit for XP software?  And, my processor is not up to speed?  I doubt that.  Anyway, so, with the game not working, I figured I might as well uninstall.  At least the software has that option…OR DOES IT?!  Apparently, this game is so special that when I tried to uninstall it, I got “catastrophic failure.”  Missing component?  What the?  Sooo…  I’m sitting with this dud stuck in my computer.  I tried to system restore to a previous date and only caused the computer more grief!  Registry errors.  I couldn’t open image files.  I couldn’t run certain programs.  What gives?  Talk about a nightmare.

I’m currently, nervously working on the problem.  But, it scares the crap out of me and makes me feel stupid.  I should have just listened to my younger self who said he wasn’t going to dabble in PC games.  It’s just a shame more aren’t as fortunate as the ones I DID manage to install and complete.  I really wanted to play The Movies, among others.

If you have any info on these or related games, I appreciate any input you can provide.

13
Jan
15

Violence Over Free Speech, You Say? Here’s My Response

As the TV peppers me with echoes of what’s been happening in Paris, France, I found this rhyme forming in my brain.  You may have heard it somewhere.

THIS IS MY RIFLE!

my-rifle-mouth_male-portrait-looksabitlikeme_silhouette-60prcnt-1J my-rifle-mouth_male-portrait-looksabitlikeme_silhouette-60prcnt-3JTHESE ARE MY GUNS!

my-guns-fist-n-footprint_440-fist-up-left-angle-pump_silhouette-1JTHESE ARE FOR FIGHTING!

these-R-4-fighting-fst-ft-n-mouth_440-fist-up-left-angle-pump_silhouette-1JTHESE ARE FOR FUN!

teamwritingbolt_business-people-silhouette-our-team_50percent-international-group-8J

Now, all you maggots creating such a stir over free speech, you take responsibility for what you say and realize when a choice of words might stir a hornet’s nest.  This Paris incident isn’t about creativity repressed by the artists’ own nation.  No.  It’s about foreigners not approving what they find in the local media/newspapers.  You wouldn’t want someone making crude or cruel jokes about your family, nationality or religion.  Would you?  So, why is it this one incident makes people rally in support of those who didn’t take the first warning to knock it off?  No, lethal violence wasn’t necessary.  But, how often does the boy have to cry wolf before the wolf goes postal?  There’s no Tootsie roll at the center of this dilemma, kids.

08
Dec
14

Welcome to the Food Chain, the Danger of a Vegetarian Mankind

Stop me if you’ve heard/read this one, before.

A strangely funny thought came to me today as I thought about my diet and all the people pushing for mankind to go “vegan” or vegetarian.

What if we humans DID all go vegetarian?

Think of prehistoric times. Wouldn’t the food supply suffer? Wouldn’t competition over food grow not just between humans but with all of the other creatures that eat plants? Wouldn’t more starve and die when they can’t get their fill?

And, here’s the real “kicker,” folks.

Did ya ever stop to think the only reason there aren’t too many predators attacking humans is because they are too afraid of what people eat?

Who wants to ingest a man packed with so many trans-fats and chemicals that put him at risk of a dozen medical mishaps and/or diseases? Forget germs. Humans pollute themselves with what they ingest (whether it’s medicinal or gastronomical). Why risk a lion’s life with that when the big cat can sink its teeth into a grass-fed antelope?

Just think…

If every human becomes an “organic” vegetarian, won’t all those predators–who still like to hunt and eat meat just fine, by the way–start adjusting their menu?

Hmm. I was going to have the corn-fed pig. But, that salad-filled human sounds good. I think I will go with that.

Very good, sir. Excellent choice.

Welcome to the food chain, ye who shun meat.

28
Jul
14

The Art of Excess

 

On a milestone birthday in the depths of space, a budding artist (with a face full of bubbling, molten craters) opened her eyes and marveled at the new tools provided by her parents. The intense, singeing light of her father and the softer, enchanting glow of her mother came together to wish their daughter well in pursuit of happy growth and enhancement. Vowing to make them proud, the young orb took a deep breath and went to work.

Her early efforts produced a multitude of lifeforms both stationary and mobile. The former consistently worshipped her parents while the latter were free to experiment, giving all who watched a source of amusement. Father and mother were indeed pleased. Their smiles burst with a brilliant energy which could be seen from galaxies away.
“Go on, my child!” said the father. “Create more! It gives your mother and I such joy to see you paint your surface with these colors! One day you shall be the crown jewel of our domain!”

So, the child continued to create and age. But, every now and then, her father and mother would drift apart, leaving her in the cold of deep space to wonder if what she created was still worthy of praise. In a fit of sadness and frustration, she struck herself with a large rock, hoping to free some promising ideas from her already cracked skull. Instead, it erased her vision temporarily, wiping a large portion of the art from her surface. When her parents returned, a new motif had taken over their daughter.

“What’s this?!” gasped the father. “Such a drastic change! What has made you tear down what you already made and replace it with something new?!”

“Father, each time I turned around, you and Mother left me alone,” said the young artist with a sigh. “I did not feel your warmth at my back. I thought you no longer approved of my work.”

“Look how they behave differently when I draw closer in your father’s absence,” said Mother with her cheeks aglow as she separated from her mate. “You honor us with your talents, daughter. Go on. Continue creating. You are just beginning to grow.”

Despite her concern and flickering confidence, the artist did as she was told. Nothing she made gave her the joy she had seen in her parents’ faces. Again and again, she changed her canvas while expending her vital energy (which, at the time of her youth, seemed infinite), each time hoping the next visit of her parents would be happier than the last.

When they did return for her birthday, she had yet another surprise waiting for them. Gazing upon the new creation, Father blew flames to the far reaches of space and withdrew. His color paled from an ardent red-orange to a weaker yellow. “What in the great cosmos are those?! And, what are they doing to each other?!”

Tilting her head ever so slightly, his daughter said, “I have not decided what to call them, yet, as they keep changing on me. I am leaning toward naming them Humanity. What do you think, Mother?”

Though her mate was dismayed, mildly cross and tempted to scorch the young artist’s hide, Mother, impressed with the new lifeforms (which could adapt themselves more readily than any other), showed enthusiasm. “They are certainly unique and interactive.” She paused to look away when one fierce band of the fleshy rebels destroyed another, leaving a gruesome stain on the daughter’s cheek. Refraining from preaching about cleanliness, Mother added, “Keep at it, my child. But, do not be so hasty to destroy what you have made. Let it mature with you. You continue to grow in wisdom though experience. Some day, you will shine as bright as your mother or–maybe–your father.”

With those encouraging words, the still youthful artist returned to her labors, working with her latest creation to “enhance” her appearance. [Meanwhile, her parents ventured off in mounting disagreement.] As the years rolled by, the ever-mutable clay of “Humanity” grew in quantity and violence, gradually wiping away portions of her previous work. Just when it seemed like the restless, pale and balding creatures might destroy themselves and everything remaining with them, a new crop would appear to start a revolution. But, the lifeless remnants of the previous batch never seemed to fully disappear. The cosmic strength to absorb injury and clear away the messes made diminished. Eventually, after several expansive conflicts, the bewildering competition amassed heaps of debris on the heavenly creator’s face.

At the dawn of her next birthday, her parents displayed looks of horror. Lakes of toxic sludge and smoking mountains of heavy filth nearly covered every inch of their daughter’s skin. They could barely see her worrisome expression and hear her trailing voice as she pleaded, “Father! Mother! Help me! I have lost control! I am falling apart from within! Help me!”

But, they could do nothing short of wiping her from the cosmos. Reflecting upon her own potentially misguided wisdom, Mother wept. Father slapped himself for being so hasty and persistent in the pursuit of pride. In search of other worlds to litter and ravage, some of the daughter’s tiny parasites ventured deep into space with the ships she provided. Following the errant paths of the wasteful machines over their shoulders, the parents retraced the eons of their previous attempts at raising children and wondered how their neighbors, the Andromeda family, fared so well. [What did they truly know about their neighbors? And, did they need to snoop?]

                                                                           *******

“Surprise!” cheered her parents, stirring the young artist from her slumber. The latter rubbed her eyes and followed the visual cues of the former along the curves of her weathered frame. Though she had found herself drowning in darkness and despair only a moment ago, she was now glowing with a renewed sense of peace and a vigor. Gone were the mounds of death and destruction. Those tiny pests she had created were now working together as one happy community, no longer fighting over materials or each other. And, the older forms once thought doomed to extinction were now given their fair share of space to live as Humanity did.

“Happy birthday, my daughter,” said Mother with an earnest smile. “Just look at you, now. So grown-up. So mature. And, to think, a few eons ago, you were ready to throw yourself into the black hole because of some hideous eruption on your face.”

Her father, showing his age with the faintest tint of red in his thinning cheeks and forehead, added, “You have never looked lovelier than you do today, my child. You honor us both. And, look, our neighbors have brought you presents.”

The woozy artist squinted over her parents’ shoulders to see the handful of colorful visitors in the distance, each with tiny surprises headed her way. Neglecting to mention the former identity of the rock chosen as a meeting place, Mother and Father cleared the asteroid field to welcome the guests. Everyone had such a joyous time at the birthday party…

…Except for one tiny solar-powered ship carrying a lone green explorer who steered clear of all the commotion. He didn’t dare venture closer to those he could not yet understand. Instead, he continued his journey through space, watching the universe drift by as he decided what to do with the rest of his life.

 

 

~Writingbolt, 7-26-2014

14
Jul
14

Lesson Learned: Don’t Mix Mulberries with Mango

The result is like a potent laxative with all of the awful flavor and none of the bowel-moving side effects. ‘Tastes like prune juice. Bleh! Looks pretty, though. Try dripping a splash of the orange mango pulp/juice on top of the purple mulberry juice.

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25
Sep
13

Do It Right or Not At All

This comic strip (sent to me by an acquaintance) sums up my childhood, growing up with perfectionist parents who couldn’t teach us kids how to be responsible without making us feel completely hopeless. If we couldn’t do it THEIR way, we couldn’t do anything. If we tried to copy them, we were never right. If the task was deemed too dangerous, we were made to fear it. Eventually, none of us did any chores or earned any allowance. We were just poor fools.

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