So I got up this morning, and was fumbling around for breakfast in the dark. I would normally make oatmeal in this situation, but I thought I needed to eat my loaf of bread before it turned bad, because it expired a week ago.
(In my defense, a month ago I had a loaf of bread that was two weeks expired, and it was still good. And last year on the island, the freshest eggs you could buy in the store were 1 month expired, you could find 3 months expired, and we only had one bad egg all year. So there.)
I slopped some peanut butter on a piece of bread, and began eating my sandwich, and noticed an odd mint flavour in the bread. I didn't remember flavouring the bread or the peanut butter, so I simply considered it a pleasant surprise.
But after I got a third of the way into the sandwich, I started thinking, "Hmmm... this doesn't quite taste like mint... I think it's something else, but I'm not sure what..." Curiosity stroked, I ate a few more bites, and then it hit me: "I know what the taste is: it's mold!"
I couldn't see any mold. Then I turned on the desk lamp, and saw small green spots on the crust, but not on the inner part of the loaf. That probably had something to do with the peanut butter spread over it. I briefly considered ripping the crust off and finishing the sandwich; but then tossed the whole thing. I then reached in the bag for another slice of bread, only to discover more green; so I tossed the whole thing. What a shame.
What lessons do I learn from this? Well, first of all, that mold tastes like mint. A good thing, really, because if I was a starving child in Africa, I could have eaten that sandwich.
Which brings me to the second part: mold really isn't that bad. I hear it's rather nourishing. Besides, I haven't suffered any ill effects yet.
And third, that Walmart sucks. You see, I purchased that loaf that went 2 weeks past without harm at Andy's market, an independently owned and managed supermarket. I purchased the moldy bread at Walmart. Therefore, Walmart sucks.
Life teaches us so much of value!
"You expected bread and you have got a stone: break your teeth on it, and don't shriek because the nerves are martyrised... the stone will digest... For the whole remnant of your life, if you survive the test--some, it is said, die under it--you will be stronger, wiser, less sensitve." (Charlotte Bronte, Shirley)
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
A Cricket Tale
I don't know how many of you have been following the Bob Woolmer story (I presume none), so I'll give a brief synopsis.
Bob Woolmer is the coach of Pakistan's cricket team. Er, was. You see, Pakistan was the defending champion of the World Cup of Cricket, having won when it was last held in 2003. As such, in 2007 they were the favourites to repeat. Their first match resulted in a loss to West Indies, which overall wasn't how they wanted to start, but as the tournament was being held in the West Indies this year, it could be dismissed as the Windies were basically playing a home game; and they were certainly one of the better teams in the tournament. The next loss, to Ireland, was more devastating. Ireland barely plays cricket; they usually lose in the qualifying rounds. With a win over Pakistan, they secured qualification for the second round--and Pakistan's elimination.
The fans in Pakistan were in an uproar. People were literally burning effigies of the players and their coach. The entire executive of Pakistan cricket turned in their resignation. It was assumed the coach would too, but he had one game to go before the players would fly home. If I was the coach, I wouldn't have flown to Pakistan, out of fears of being shot at the airport--this is, after all, Pakistan's biggest sport.
Then, Woolmer was found dead in his hotel room. At first, it was thought that he had died from diabetes complications--he was a fairly old man, after all. The players rallied and in their next game, against Zimbabwe (a fairly good cricket nation), they scored the 3rd highest total ever in World Cup history, and the highest total that Pakistan had ever scored in the Cup. The fans showed up dressed in black and mourning for their coach.
Shortly thereafter, the autopsy results came out, showing that Woolmer had been murdered by suffocation. Currently, as it stands, the entire country is in mourning--flags at half-mast, the entire population wearing black; and the president announced that Woolmer would posthumously receive the Star of Excellence, one of the nation's highest honours.
Here's my thoughts: exactly why, and how, did this happen? Not the murder, but the sudden change in reaction by the public. At first, most of the population was ready to tear him from limb to limb; and now they're about to bestow upon him the country's highest honour. The only thing that happened was he died. At first, the populace wanted to kill him, then one of them actually did, and now he's being honoured? The irony that he died for the same reason that the country wanted him dead--a terrible job as coach--never ceases to amaze me.
In the court of public opinion, he was guilty, and so he served his sentence--a death sentence. Obviously, the sentence was too harsh--it's just sports, after all. Perhaps the public believes that by honoring him, they're making up for the mistrial?
Poor performance = lost job.
Poor performance + death = honour?
If this is the way it works, then what does death by itself equal? Because I know lots of miserable people out there who toil in miserable lives that eventually result in a miserable death. They sure don't get national honours; many of them don't get a funeral. Where is the honour and respect for these people? Where is justice, in a world where the amount of honour you receive is directly related to how well a person is known?
True honour belongs to Everyman; to the people who do their job without thanks or good wages. True honour belongs to the people who live through a miserable life, and yet don't throw in the towel and commit suicide. True honour belongs to the people who mine jewels of joy and happiness out of a barren life, and share them with others.
But if that isn't the way that honour works, then why on earth is it worth pursuing?
"And so the Lord says, 'These people say they are mine. They honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far away. And their worship of me amounts to nothing more than human laws learned by rote.'" (Isaiah 29:13)
Bob Woolmer is the coach of Pakistan's cricket team. Er, was. You see, Pakistan was the defending champion of the World Cup of Cricket, having won when it was last held in 2003. As such, in 2007 they were the favourites to repeat. Their first match resulted in a loss to West Indies, which overall wasn't how they wanted to start, but as the tournament was being held in the West Indies this year, it could be dismissed as the Windies were basically playing a home game; and they were certainly one of the better teams in the tournament. The next loss, to Ireland, was more devastating. Ireland barely plays cricket; they usually lose in the qualifying rounds. With a win over Pakistan, they secured qualification for the second round--and Pakistan's elimination.
The fans in Pakistan were in an uproar. People were literally burning effigies of the players and their coach. The entire executive of Pakistan cricket turned in their resignation. It was assumed the coach would too, but he had one game to go before the players would fly home. If I was the coach, I wouldn't have flown to Pakistan, out of fears of being shot at the airport--this is, after all, Pakistan's biggest sport.
Then, Woolmer was found dead in his hotel room. At first, it was thought that he had died from diabetes complications--he was a fairly old man, after all. The players rallied and in their next game, against Zimbabwe (a fairly good cricket nation), they scored the 3rd highest total ever in World Cup history, and the highest total that Pakistan had ever scored in the Cup. The fans showed up dressed in black and mourning for their coach.
Shortly thereafter, the autopsy results came out, showing that Woolmer had been murdered by suffocation. Currently, as it stands, the entire country is in mourning--flags at half-mast, the entire population wearing black; and the president announced that Woolmer would posthumously receive the Star of Excellence, one of the nation's highest honours.
Here's my thoughts: exactly why, and how, did this happen? Not the murder, but the sudden change in reaction by the public. At first, most of the population was ready to tear him from limb to limb; and now they're about to bestow upon him the country's highest honour. The only thing that happened was he died. At first, the populace wanted to kill him, then one of them actually did, and now he's being honoured? The irony that he died for the same reason that the country wanted him dead--a terrible job as coach--never ceases to amaze me.
In the court of public opinion, he was guilty, and so he served his sentence--a death sentence. Obviously, the sentence was too harsh--it's just sports, after all. Perhaps the public believes that by honoring him, they're making up for the mistrial?
Poor performance = lost job.
Poor performance + death = honour?
If this is the way it works, then what does death by itself equal? Because I know lots of miserable people out there who toil in miserable lives that eventually result in a miserable death. They sure don't get national honours; many of them don't get a funeral. Where is the honour and respect for these people? Where is justice, in a world where the amount of honour you receive is directly related to how well a person is known?
True honour belongs to Everyman; to the people who do their job without thanks or good wages. True honour belongs to the people who live through a miserable life, and yet don't throw in the towel and commit suicide. True honour belongs to the people who mine jewels of joy and happiness out of a barren life, and share them with others.
But if that isn't the way that honour works, then why on earth is it worth pursuing?
"And so the Lord says, 'These people say they are mine. They honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far away. And their worship of me amounts to nothing more than human laws learned by rote.'" (Isaiah 29:13)
Monday, March 26, 2007
I'm Suing The Weather
That's right. I've decided to sue to weather. After experiencing wonderfully warm weather for the last half of March break, up in the 70s and 80s, this morning I woke up freezing in my room, with the temperature outside at 38F.
I'm suing for emotional damages. After watching my GPA drop every winter quarter, I'm presuming I have seasonal-affective disorder. This has caused me great pain, duress, and depression, and I want $23,000 in compensation (the amount I spent on college during said winter quarters).
The weather has brought me cursed luck. This winter, I had not one, but two oboes crack on me. Presumed cause was cold weather, causing the wood to contract when the oboes were taken outside, back and forth between the church and music building. Said oboes were rentals, and so these events have caused me loss of reputation--the dealer doesn't trust me with a wooden oboe any more. Since only wooden oboes sound the best, it causes the repute of my playing ability to fall as well, causing me future harm to my career of soloing with orchestras around the world. I want $15,000 to cover the cost of the broken oboes; $25,000 to cover the cost of tuition for this school year, rendered ineffective by the instrumental situation; and $5,000,000 to cover lost profits from said future career.
I'd also like to sue for the humiliation suffered this morning, as I woke up, and violently shivered for half an hour in the cold room. The window had been left open all night, on the assumption that it was 70F outside. The violent shivering in above freezing temperatures caused me to lose face as a Canadian, and brought great emotional distress. I want $10,000,000 for the damage suffered to the name of Canada as a result of this morning.
Finally, I'd like to sue for punitive damages to prevent the weather from ever acting up like this again. The weather has shown very little remorse for previous bad action, such as destroying Florida, followed by destroying New Orleans. A heavy fine must be placed to make the weather take it's responsibility to humanity seriously, and I suggest an award of $10,000,000,000 would do just that.
Therefore, I'm suing the weather for $10 billion dollars. I'm open to making this a class-action lawsuit. A court date will be announced at a later time.
"If any man sue thee for thy coat, let him have thy cloak, too, for if thy adversary have it not, thine advocate will." (John Donne)
I'm suing for emotional damages. After watching my GPA drop every winter quarter, I'm presuming I have seasonal-affective disorder. This has caused me great pain, duress, and depression, and I want $23,000 in compensation (the amount I spent on college during said winter quarters).
The weather has brought me cursed luck. This winter, I had not one, but two oboes crack on me. Presumed cause was cold weather, causing the wood to contract when the oboes were taken outside, back and forth between the church and music building. Said oboes were rentals, and so these events have caused me loss of reputation--the dealer doesn't trust me with a wooden oboe any more. Since only wooden oboes sound the best, it causes the repute of my playing ability to fall as well, causing me future harm to my career of soloing with orchestras around the world. I want $15,000 to cover the cost of the broken oboes; $25,000 to cover the cost of tuition for this school year, rendered ineffective by the instrumental situation; and $5,000,000 to cover lost profits from said future career.
I'd also like to sue for the humiliation suffered this morning, as I woke up, and violently shivered for half an hour in the cold room. The window had been left open all night, on the assumption that it was 70F outside. The violent shivering in above freezing temperatures caused me to lose face as a Canadian, and brought great emotional distress. I want $10,000,000 for the damage suffered to the name of Canada as a result of this morning.
Finally, I'd like to sue for punitive damages to prevent the weather from ever acting up like this again. The weather has shown very little remorse for previous bad action, such as destroying Florida, followed by destroying New Orleans. A heavy fine must be placed to make the weather take it's responsibility to humanity seriously, and I suggest an award of $10,000,000,000 would do just that.
Therefore, I'm suing the weather for $10 billion dollars. I'm open to making this a class-action lawsuit. A court date will be announced at a later time.
"If any man sue thee for thy coat, let him have thy cloak, too, for if thy adversary have it not, thine advocate will." (John Donne)
Sunday, March 25, 2007
So It Begins...
Ever wonder about a world where everyone told the truth, all the time? And no one would ever get offended by it?
Take the classic, "Honey, am I fat?" question. If you reply yes, the message sent is not "Yes, you are fat," but "Yes, you are and I despise you for it." You didn't say it; but the other person assumes it anyways. Why? Because it's usually the truth. Even in the case of "Yes, but I still love you," it's implied "you owe me for that."
There just isn't enough love in the world. It's certainly possible to tell the truth and be loving at the same time. Surely "Yes, but I love you enough to overlook that. And no, you don't owe me anything." would be an ideal answer.
So why can't we start today? Because you can't unilaterally start telling the truth with love, because people would misunderstand you. Unless the hearer knows you are telling the truth with love, they will assume you're insulting them, because that's what it amounts to without love; and people are generally pessimistic these days, so they assume the worst. And in communication it is a requirement that you speak to people who don't know you very well. As such, unilaterally effecting social change of that order might not be the greatest of ideas.
Therefore, we must remain in this lower form of implied battles and insults. Humanity disturbs me.
"Be the change you want to see in the world." (Mahatma Gandhi)
Take the classic, "Honey, am I fat?" question. If you reply yes, the message sent is not "Yes, you are fat," but "Yes, you are and I despise you for it." You didn't say it; but the other person assumes it anyways. Why? Because it's usually the truth. Even in the case of "Yes, but I still love you," it's implied "you owe me for that."
There just isn't enough love in the world. It's certainly possible to tell the truth and be loving at the same time. Surely "Yes, but I love you enough to overlook that. And no, you don't owe me anything." would be an ideal answer.
So why can't we start today? Because you can't unilaterally start telling the truth with love, because people would misunderstand you. Unless the hearer knows you are telling the truth with love, they will assume you're insulting them, because that's what it amounts to without love; and people are generally pessimistic these days, so they assume the worst. And in communication it is a requirement that you speak to people who don't know you very well. As such, unilaterally effecting social change of that order might not be the greatest of ideas.
Therefore, we must remain in this lower form of implied battles and insults. Humanity disturbs me.
"Be the change you want to see in the world." (Mahatma Gandhi)
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