The Olympics has become as much a cliche as it has become obsolete and above all, decadent. Manufacturing and giving 60,000 ponchos to the stadium crowd to enable projecting images onto the audience seems on the face of it to be vibrantly non-green. If they were made of corn plastic, it would’ve been naturally plastered all over the internet! And the creation of a Woodstock of plenty to celebrate athletes who practice sports that invoke permanent damage to their very human anatomy through simple routine boggles my mind. So what if the marathon used to kill the runners. That was then, this is now. I have a pretty firm belief that knees shouldn’t be sacrificed during normal pursuit of a sport.
The pull of the Olympics is as straightforward as it is hidden. One of the fundamental ideas of the Olympics as a peaceful celebration of the power of human beings from the world’s countries is a very appealing and an extremely honourable one. Coupled with the fact that the four year cycle makes it rare and ephemeral makes the Olympics very hard to ignore for most people with a TV and a pulse.
It is the Olympics’ very rarity that has elevated it into an event that triggers ancient and deeply embedded cues that prompt awe and wonder, albeit on a rather low frequency. The call of ritual and tradition are an inherent part of the human brain’s makeup. That’s why people like the idea of Christmas, Easter, or Canada Day -so much so that they implemented them in the first place. Stonehenge – they sure knew what they were doing, and it wasn’t just crop insurance. On the loom of life, ritual gives pattern to the fabric.
Our parents have answered the siren song of the Olympics, and as children we watch and learn and then follow in their well-modeled footsteps. Organized religion is no slouch at maximizing the operating systems that we humans have and our preference for rituals and memes, and people rarely veer from their parents choice of religion (if they continue to adhere to the one they were raised with, that is!). The Olympics are rather more like a religion, one that glorifies ‘amateurs’ who wear down parts of their very human bodies in their single minded pursuit of ‘excellence’ in sport. The irony is of the painfully delicious variety. The Olympics has become a genuine Greek tragedy.
Its worth debating how worthwhile the Olympics are.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Nurturing your nature
When I was growing up, the big bang theory – the 1970’s version to be sure – was certainly talked about. And even though I was a member of a church going catholic family, I was not hidden from these scientific discussions. I remember seriously thinking about the ‘big bang’ and getting my head into a knot as I tried to comprehend what was BEFORE the big bang and everything that followed. My tiny noggin was just not up to the task of comprehending nothingness that wasn’t even space – heck, I still can’t! I’ve just learned to take it as fact without trying to force myself to recreate it or imagine it within the extremely finite cubic centimeters of gray matter that is my brain. As a child, I just didn’t know it wasn’t possible. Trying to create a mental construct of the pre big bang is probably where I first made my acquaintance with alpha waves, and it rather hurt my head.
How did someone who was probably about 8 or 10 years old get a good initial dose of the big bang theory? I think it stems from my father’s interests. He enjoyed a variety of scientific endeavours, such as astronomy, paleontology and anthropology. He also very much enjoyed sharing his interests, so I don’t doubt the big bang theory might have been discussed in the house with my (much) older siblings and I caught wind of it. I remember being taken out to see a lunar eclipse. My memory is of my Dad taking me and my brother for a drive down to Miller’s Field with a stop at a local grocery store – and this is the part that truly captures my father’s genius - for an oreo cookie package. We spent the summer evening watching the moon turn dusky red and back again and munching on the cookies of the gods. I also remember being taught about the constellations – the few that are so very easy to spot, anyway - and still enjoy the return of certain constellations as the old friends that they are, even when they are the harbinger of a return to winter.
The lessons my father imparted were many and some quite easily memorable. Never stop learning, See the world, Life is for the living, Try hard to be good, Walk in like you own the place. … just a sampling of his easy-to-rattle-off one-liners. They work well as mantras when you need them, and I think my father found them to work the same way. I find I enjoy learning and wondering and discovering many of the things that he did enjoy as well – if not exactly, then on a fundamental level. The chances are good that as one of his children, my (and all of my siblings) brain categorizes and works and learns in a similar way to my father – or my mother. Perhaps even a mix?
There is something to learn from the pattern of our parents, even if it is things that didn’t work for them. While we are ultimately our own selves we have a personality, intelligence and desires that are an offshoot of all those that have gone before. It shouldn’t betray our individuality to recognize the living and learning that our own kin has gone through, in fact, it should be said that it’s smart to not have to learn something the hard way.
All that being said, it’s a terrible thing that we never admit “mom was right” until we’re moms or dad ourselves.
"So we are all reincarnations -- though short-lived ones. When we die, our atoms will disassemble and move off to find new uses elsewhere - as part of a leaf or other human being or drop a dew. In short, on an atomic level, we all live forever."
-A Short History of Nearly Everything
-Bill Bryson-
How did someone who was probably about 8 or 10 years old get a good initial dose of the big bang theory? I think it stems from my father’s interests. He enjoyed a variety of scientific endeavours, such as astronomy, paleontology and anthropology. He also very much enjoyed sharing his interests, so I don’t doubt the big bang theory might have been discussed in the house with my (much) older siblings and I caught wind of it. I remember being taken out to see a lunar eclipse. My memory is of my Dad taking me and my brother for a drive down to Miller’s Field with a stop at a local grocery store – and this is the part that truly captures my father’s genius - for an oreo cookie package. We spent the summer evening watching the moon turn dusky red and back again and munching on the cookies of the gods. I also remember being taught about the constellations – the few that are so very easy to spot, anyway - and still enjoy the return of certain constellations as the old friends that they are, even when they are the harbinger of a return to winter.
The lessons my father imparted were many and some quite easily memorable. Never stop learning, See the world, Life is for the living, Try hard to be good, Walk in like you own the place. … just a sampling of his easy-to-rattle-off one-liners. They work well as mantras when you need them, and I think my father found them to work the same way. I find I enjoy learning and wondering and discovering many of the things that he did enjoy as well – if not exactly, then on a fundamental level. The chances are good that as one of his children, my (and all of my siblings) brain categorizes and works and learns in a similar way to my father – or my mother. Perhaps even a mix?
There is something to learn from the pattern of our parents, even if it is things that didn’t work for them. While we are ultimately our own selves we have a personality, intelligence and desires that are an offshoot of all those that have gone before. It shouldn’t betray our individuality to recognize the living and learning that our own kin has gone through, in fact, it should be said that it’s smart to not have to learn something the hard way.
All that being said, it’s a terrible thing that we never admit “mom was right” until we’re moms or dad ourselves.
"So we are all reincarnations -- though short-lived ones. When we die, our atoms will disassemble and move off to find new uses elsewhere - as part of a leaf or other human being or drop a dew. In short, on an atomic level, we all live forever."
-A Short History of Nearly Everything
-Bill Bryson-
Friday, January 15, 2010
It can make your skin crawl...
It was a different world back then. Right now, all I can think is the odds of someone on that plane being a perve is pretty freakin' high. Enjoy this refreshing taste of wierdness as I get a decent blog post finished over the next few days...
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Proroguing and the Pull Out Method
Our weasel-faced Prime Minister asked - and ultimately received permission - to prorogue parliament, effectively tossing most bills and various commitees that had been in progress this past fall into the recycle box. It appears on the weaselly face of it, that will allow more time for prepping a new economic action plan (can you say “bribe the public”?) and other new bills, as if he was doing us all a favour ending the parliamentary session early so he could hold his head up high at the Olympics. Politicians aren’t the most earnest type no matter their camoflage, and whatever his stated reasoning for proroguing Parliament prematurely is, it isn’t the real truth. It’s the cover that his staff thinks Canadians will swallow.
Proroguing parliament a year ago was the only way – low though it was – to stop the bells tolling for him and his time as Prime Minister. Not only getting away with the ploy, he turned it into a positive and lambasted the other political parties that had tried to forge such an undemocratic arrangement as a coalition. Certainly enough people parroted that “they hadn’t voted for a coalition” – astoundingly forgetting that they don’t even vote for a Prime Minister, only their local member of parliament. Duh? This ain’t America!
To recap, a year ago, people had to be told what proroguing parliament meant as the last time it had been used was by Sir John A. Macdonald in 1873. And now, a year later, our current PM is using such a little known and undeniably low, historically speaking, method to avoid political issues for a second time. I don’t think he fully appreciates the pull out method isn’t without its dangers and risks. I await the birth of an election call with his spin doctors in attendance.
Proroguing parliament a year ago was the only way – low though it was – to stop the bells tolling for him and his time as Prime Minister. Not only getting away with the ploy, he turned it into a positive and lambasted the other political parties that had tried to forge such an undemocratic arrangement as a coalition. Certainly enough people parroted that “they hadn’t voted for a coalition” – astoundingly forgetting that they don’t even vote for a Prime Minister, only their local member of parliament. Duh? This ain’t America!
To recap, a year ago, people had to be told what proroguing parliament meant as the last time it had been used was by Sir John A. Macdonald in 1873. And now, a year later, our current PM is using such a little known and undeniably low, historically speaking, method to avoid political issues for a second time. I don’t think he fully appreciates the pull out method isn’t without its dangers and risks. I await the birth of an election call with his spin doctors in attendance.
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