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The Best Advice I’m Not Giving

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It’s that time of the year again. As has become a tradition much maligned anticipated in our neighborhood, moiself  is hosting a different Partridge, every week, in my front yard’s pear tree.   [1]

Can you identify this week’s guest Partridge?

 

*   *   *

A belated Happy Winter Solstice to all.  And to my fellow yogis, if this tradition is in your practice, I hope you had a memorable 108 Sun Salutations.

 

 

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Department Of Year End Lists

As seems to be the plague custom at this time of every year, The Posting Of the Lists ®   is in full swing.  From movies to concerts to podcast episodes to soup recipes, the critics and pundits scurry to list their best (or worst)  _____ of the year.

Moiself  has but one entry to contribute in the best of ____category.  Unfortunately, I’d love to give attribution but can’t recall where I saw this.  So, to whomever came up with this phrase     [2]    to define social media’s power to make users feel left out,    [3]    I nominate you for  Best Description of The Downside Tech’s Effect on Our Collective Psyches – a very competitive category this year:

“Inventing a new way to feel miserable.”

 

 

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Department Of But If You Do Have To Read At Least One
Best Of/Worst Of List….

…It might as well be the one excerpted here:

“If you are on the Internet long enough, there comes a year when you will be forced to rank something. Now it is my time. So I am taking the liberty of going through the 100 holiday songs being foisted upon us everywhere and ranking them from Most Especially Heinous to Best….

100. ‘Little Drummer Boy.’ My hatred for this song is well-documented. I think it is because the song takes approximately 18 years to sing and does not rhyme. The concept of the song is bad. The execution of the song is bad. There is not even an actual drum in the dang song, there is just someone saying PA-RUM-PA-PUM-PUM, which, frankly, is not a good onomatopoeia and probably is an insult to those fluent in Drum. I cannot stand it. Nothing will fix it, even the application of David Bowie to it. Every year I say, ‘I hate this song,’ and every year people say, ‘Have you heard David Bowie’s version?’ Yes. Yes, I have. It is still an abomination.

101. ‘Do You Hear What I Hear?’ A better name for this song would be ‘I Assume You Cannot Hear Anything I Am Saying and so I Am Going to Repeat All the Words Twice.’ This contains things that in another, better song, would be welcome: A star! A star! A shepherd boy! Rhetorical questions! But the problem with this song is the problem that arises any time you are forced to repeat something you said because someone didn’t hear it properly: namely, that you didn’t phrase the thing very well in the first place and having to say it again just makes you more painfully aware of how awkward your wording was. “WITH A VOICE AS BIG AS THE SEA.” What? “WITH A VOICE AS BIG AS THE SEA,” you shout, regretting that you ever thought it was a good idea to introduce a simile here.

( A ranking of 100 — yes, 100 — Christmas songs, Alexandra Petri,
Washington Post, 12-24-24 )

Whaddya waiting for – follow the link for just 98 more.

 

 

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Department Of This In Between Time

This week, the one between Christmas and New Year’s, is one of moiself’s  favorite weeks of the year.  I thought it should have its own name, and as it turns out, others thought the same:

“ ‘Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings,’ says Zuzu Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. But that incessant chiming you hear might also be the ping of emails bouncing back with out-of-office notifications as the year — and our motivation to work — grinds to a halt. Welcome to Twixmas, aka Dead Week, or Feral Week: that stretch between Christmas and New Year’s Eve when we get the urge to take off and tune out, and our outstanding projects, deadlines and other responsibilities become 2025 You’s problem. Whether they’ve actually gone on vacation or have just mentally checked out, many people see it as a time to (hopefully) rest and do less.”

( excerpt from “Some call it Twixmas. Others call it Feral Week. The period between
Christmas and New Year’s Eve is the perfect time to do nothing — and experts say we need it.”
yahoolife.com  )

That article, and the Dead/Feral Week moniker, is mostly about what happens in and to one’s business life, or work life, during this in-between week.  I prefer the Twixmas label.  The effects of this week, whether positive or negative – or a combination of both or just plain…weird – are arguably most acute outside of the workplace. 

 

 

Twixmas feels both charmed and bizarre for several reasons, some if not most of which can be attributed to the simple disruption of routine, as you take a break from your regular schedule (many people travel or take vacation days; kids are out of school; some businesses close).  Other reasons include the fact that no matter how much you may anticipate the holidays, the genuine positive feelings they can bring exist alongside the cultural pressure to celebrate, feel joyful and grateful, or reflect upon the past year and anticipate resolutions for the coming year….  And then there is the letdown, when the great buildup seems to be all over.  Or, you may feel guilty when you don’t feel like celebrating with your family, or you may experience buyers and eaters remorse ( Yikes, I overspent on gifts/over-indulged on all the sugar treats).

But, if you can manage it, Twixmas can be a wonderful and even rejuvenating limbo time.  Get yourself to set aside the what-ifs and what-is-to-comes: relax in the Now, and treat yourself to whatever twinkles *your* star, or just take a walk around the block to enjoy (read: make fun of) your neighbor’s holiday light displays.

 

 

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Department Of One More Thing About Lists

One of these days I’ll get around to sharing my list of Best Advice Given And/Or Received.   [4]

When it comes to giving advice, those most in need of such guidance are often the least likely to heed it (and certainly are not prone to soliciting it).  Nevertheless, moiself  shall fling this into the ether, with best hopes for even a shred of enlightenment for the kind of  Young Men Working With The Public Who Either Have An Ocular Impediment Which Renders Them Unable To See Women Over The Age of Forty Or Whose Attitude Makes Them Treat Such Women As If They Were Invisible. ®  

Specifically, this advice goes out to a certain morose, indifferent, drug store clerk:

Do not pivot from ignoring to flirting with the middle-aged woman
in your checkout line after you notice she’s buying a personal lubricant.

 

 

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [5]

 

 

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought To Hold For The New Year

“The best explanation for ‘the good old days’ is a bad memory.
When we take an objective look at how the country is doing and which way it has been going, we see that American life is not a hellscape of carnage and decline.  What stands out is a resilient democracy that tends to recover from setbacks and make halting progress.”
( Harvard professor, author, and FFRF honorary President Steven Pinker, in his column,
“Trump says the country is ‘dying.’ The data says otherwise”  )

*   *   *

May you have fun composing your own year-end lists;
May you stop inventing ways to make yourself miserable;
May  you have an enjoyable Twixmas;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] Specifically, in the pear tree daughter Belle purchased and (with the help of MH) planted many years ago

[2] I’m thinking, a writer for The Atlantic?

[3] As in running across pictures of/reading about family/friend/neighbor/coworker activities that didn’t include us.

[4] Which means that one of these days I’ll have to do a better job of compiling that list.

[5] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.   No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org

The Best Question I’m Not Asking

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It’s that time of the year again.  As has become a tradition much maligned anticipated in our neighborhood, moiself  is hosting a different Partridge, every week, in my front yard’s pear tree.   [1]

Can you identify this week’s guest Partridge?

 

 

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Department Of Creative Metaphors I’m Going To Regret

Dateline: my birthday, earlier this week.  We did our main celebrating the previous day, inviting friends and our offspring to join us for lunch and a couple of hours perusing the Portland Art Museum’s two current, well-presented, special exhibitions:

* Paul McCartney Photographs 1963–64: Eyes of the Storm.     [2]

* Psychedelic Rock Posters and Fashion of the 1960s   [3]

 

 

On my bday itself moiself  just wanted a quiet evening at home.  After the proverbial comedy of errors re what we would order (takeout) for my bday dinner,    [4]   MH returned from his quest with za from Pizza Schmizza;   [5]   specifically, five slices of two (of their seven available) veggie options: Margherita and Extreme Veggie.  The latter’s toppings included black olive slices, which MH loathes.    [6]

MH and I sat in our respective chairs in the family room, enjoying our za and watching a recording of the most recent SNL episode. Our elderly cat, Nova, assumed her customary, après-diner  position (on MH’s lap).

 

Keeping it warm for her favorite human.

 

I glanced over at MH, and saw Nova investigating what was left of MH’s dinner.  His plate was empty save for a pile of  ~12 olive slices (each with a smidge of cheese clinging to them) that he had meticulously removed from his Extreme Veggie slice.

For some reason (other than knowing of MH’s antipathy toward olives?), I began wondering aloud, “Hmm, what must that pile look like, to you or other olive haters?”   As soon as the answer left my mouth, I realized I was in danger of regretting it:

“Satan’s assholes?”

 

Bet ya can’t eat just one.

 

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Department Of Only  Sometimes?

Sometimes I loathe certain members of my species.  Like the asshat driver who delayed Belle’s train this past weekend AND sent one of the train employees to the hospital.

Belle was coming down for a quick/overnight visit, via Amtrak from Washington, to join MH and I and friends in celebrating my birthday at the above-mentioned art museum.  She didn’t have much time in her weekend schedule, but went to the trouble to get train tickets, which I greatly appreciated.  Ten minutes after she boarded the train to Portland we got a text from her, alerting us that the train had stopped.  The train passengers were told at first that the delay was due to a “track obstruction,” an explanation which was later expanded into, “debris coming into contact with train equipment.”  As the time passed Belle sent further clarifications:

“Okay, apparently at a crossing someone in a car hit the railguard and broke it because  they didn’t want to wait, and then our train ran into the broken guard and it smashed out the driver/engineer’s windows.
We’re going to a rail yard about a mile away to turn the train around and use the other (unbroken) engine at the other end instead.
They said the driver is okay. The train driver that is.”
   [7]

Two hours later:

“Trail stillllllll hasn’t turned around.  Waiting for freight trains to get out of the way.”

An hour after that:

“Oof, apparently it took extra long because they did actually have to
take the engineer to the hospital.”

The train arrived in Portland three hours late.   No word on the condition of the engineer.

 

 

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Department Of A Succinct Review Of A Holiday Release Movie
( Sub-Department Of:  Filler Alert )

The musical Wicked had a running time of two hours forty-five minutes (three hours total, including the 15 minute intermission between Act 1 and Act 2).    [8]

The movie Wicked has a run time of 2 hours forty minutes…three hours total, including the previews of coming attractions…and only covers Act 1 of the play ( “The adaptation was split into two parts to avoid cutting plot points and expand the characters’ journeys and relationships.” ).

 

“Remember to schedule a pee break – pass it on.”

 

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Department Of What Is The Best Question?

The best question…to?  For?  About what?

Yep, the question itself is almost totally subjective and context dependent.  But moiself  woke up Wednesday morning with that question in mind, and I’d love to hear other’s opinions.

Here’s a sample of best questions that sprung to my mind:

* May I give you a foot rub?

* Would you like to hold your grandbaby?

* May we help you practice your acceptance speech?

* Paper or plastic?

* Where shall we take our honeymoon?

* How would you like to celebrate your promotion?

*Where shall we park the new Porsche?

* Would you like fries with that?

*  Would you like conscious sedation or general anesthesia
during your colonoscopy?

* Vaccinations are up-to-date – would you like to take your new kitten home this afternoon?

* Would you like a complimentary upgrade to first class?

* Indoor or outdoor court for your pickleball lesson with Ryan Gosling?

* May I send you a picture of a pajama-wearing baby sloth?

 

 

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [9]

 

 

*   *   *

May you never think your time is so important that you must smash through a railroad crossing guardrail;
May you have no culinary loathing equivalent to Satan’s assholes;
May someone ask you *your* best question;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

 

*   *   *

[1] Specifically, in the pear tree daughter Belle purchased and (with the help of MH) planted many years ago

[2] More than 250 “recently rediscovered photographs from Paul McCartney’s personal archives,” taken by McCartney during a pivotal period as The Beatles grew from British faves to international stars.

[3] Featuring more than 200 iconic rock posters, of a specific style first designed by graphic artists in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury neighborhood.  The posters’ instantly recognizable patterns – a combination of seemingly pulsating neon colors, unique lettering, and witty (and sometimes sexually and/or pharmaceutically suggestive) design – quickly spread around the nation as other poster artists used this new, psychedelic graphic language to promote rock concerts.   The exhibition also showcased the eclectic fashions of the psychedelic clothing styles.

[4] Our favorite downtown pizza restaurant forgot to turn off their online ordering; they were closed for their holiday party…someone noticed our order and called MH back to say, oops.

[5] A local chain, started in Hillsboro some 20+ years ago by two expat New Yawk bros, now with 20+pub ‘n grub style places in Oregon (and one in Washington).

[6] Black; Green; Kalamata, Nicoise; Castelvetrano….you name the olive, MH dislikes it.  Which is great for me as if we’re dining out and the salad or pasta has kalamatas, as then I get his.

[7] As you might imagine, few passengers were holding charitable thoughts about the okay-ness of the car’s driver.

[8] I saw the play, when it was touring.  I highly recommend it – you’ll never look at The Wizard of Oz story in the same way.

[9] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.  No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org

The Elephant I’m Not Freeing

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It’s that time of the year again. As has become a tradition much maligned anticipated in our neighborhood, moiself  is hosting a different Partridge, every week, in my front yard’s pear tree.   [1]

Can you identify this week’s guest Partridge?

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Questions With No Answers

Two almost identical exclamations, used to express disappointment/anger and/or disgust with a less-than-optimum situation.  Both involve euphemisms for feces; both can engender differing reactions from the exclamation over-hearers.

“Oh, crap!”
(responses include outright agreement, sympathetic clucks,
knowing nods, maybe a slight grimace)

“Oh, shit!”
(responses include silent disapproval, maybe a sympathetic nod, cringing, mouthing
anguage, please, or Don’t cuss in front of Grandma! )

Is it just the fact, due to the continuing evolution of acceptable usage, that the former expression has gained wide acceptance while the latter is considered crude (or even at the level of cursing)?

Just wondering.

 

 

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Department Of Just As Important As Having Your Heart In The Right Place
Is Having Your Head In The Right Place

You’d have to put a gun to my head to force me to watch a SeaWorld orca show, an animal-act circus or other “entertainment” events which use (read: abuse and exploit) animals.  I do support the educational and conservation work done by AZA accredited zoos, aquariums, and animal rescue organizations.  MH and I are longtime Oregon Zoo members, and I think that our offsprings’ participation in the ZooTeens program  [2]  was partly responsible for nurturing their interests in science in general and biology in particular.

The Oregon Zoo Foundation is one of several charities to which MH and I regularly donate.  This week we received the foundation’s end-of-year update for donors, including the announcement that Rose-Tu, a member of the zoo’s family of Asian elephants, is pregnant.  This will be the first elephant born at the Oregon Zoo in ten years, and during those past ten years the zoo’s elephant habitat has undergone a massive expansion/makeover ( “Elephant Lands” ).   [3]

The announcement re Rose-Tu brought to mind the Free Packy Lady, ® whom I encountered outside the zoo, some 15+ years ago.  But first, some context.

 

 

The late great Asian elephant Packy (1962 – 2017) was a beloved, long-time resident of the Oregon Zoo.  Born at the Seattle Woodland Park zoo to wild-born parents, Packy had several claims to fame, including having been the first elephant born in the Western Hemisphere in 44 years, and growing up to be one of the tallest Asian elephants in the USA (and perhaps the world).  Packy was arguably the most famous zoo resident of his time (LIFE magazine did an 11-page article on him in their 5-11-62 issue) and was considered a “star” in and beyond the zoo and animal conservation worlds, as his birth and subsequent life were closely monitored and studied and had a huge impact on Asian elephant care and breeding programs worldwide.   [4]

I visited the zoo weekly when son K and daughter Belle were young; when they were in school, I’d occasionally visit on my own.  One day, during one of my solo visits, one of Packy’s keepers noticed me playing a game of “hide ‘n seek” with Packy.  It was a slow day; moiself  was the only visitor at the elephant habitat.  I’d noticed Packy watching me as I stood by the fence in an area where he was playing with a pile of greenery (you’re never too old to play with your food).  To test whether he was actually watching moiself,  I moved to a spot behind a structure where he couldn’t see me, then peeked out from the other side of the structure.  Packy began following my movements and anticipating where I would appear next…or at least, that’s what it seemed like to me.  Maybe I was just imagining his attention?  Packy’s keeper approached me, introduced himself, and confirmed that yes, Packy was in fact playing a game with me.  The keeper shared this fun fact:  Packy had a “fixation” on hats; specifically, on women wearing hats (I was wearing a red rain hat).  As in, in that keeper’s interpretation/opinion, Packy didn’t like certain kinds of hats, and if Packy had been able to get close enough to me he likely would have snatched the hat right off of my head.

 

 

Once again, I digress….

Today, the vast majority of US zoo elephants are native-born, via breeding programs monitored by the AZA [Association of Zoos and Aquariums] as part of their endangered species survival plan.  Some zoos obtain wild-born elephants who are “rescued” from captive tourist and/or work camps in Asia and/or Africa, or from the danger of being culled (read: executed) due to humans expanding into elephant territory.

But capturing wild elephants was the unfortunate standard practice for zoos, private wildlife “collections,” and circuses, up until the 1980s, when a combination of animal rights/conservation awareness and shrinking wild populations led to most countries outlawing the practice. 

Today’s zoos focus on conservation and education, and often host a population of rescued and endangered species who are cared for on site but not on display to zoo visitors, as part of species survival and repopulation programs.  Many if not all zoos have had their dark histories, but those who decry their continued existence don’t seem to understand the world all of us animals currently inhabit, which includes the sad fact that the only way some species may survive   [5]    is because of zoo care/breeding programs and educational efforts.  Human population is exploding; thus, the world for wild animals is shrinking – that ship has sailed when it comes to the idea that all animals should live in their native habitats, when those habitats are increasingly being invaded and altered (read: destroyed) by humans.

 

 

“Zoos serve as vital conservation facilities supporting the most endangered
species. 
Indeed, zoos have built a successful track record with breeding and
reintroduction programs aimed at repopulating extinct animals.
Far too many species are at risk of extinction due to habitat loss, hunting,
and ecological threats. As scientists warn we are in a “Sixth Mass Extinction,”
the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species estimates there are over 42,100 species
‘threatened with extinction.’ By maintaining populations of these endangered
species,
zoos can provide a safety net against the specter of extinction in the wild.”
( Center for the Environment &Welfare,
The Benefits of Zoos for Conservation and Education “)

Still, the mere existence of any kind of zoo/wildlife park/reserve is controversial to some people.  There are animal rights groups, e.g., Free Oregon Zoo Elephants, which work to stop all zoo breeding programs and advocate shipping existing zoo elephants to sanctuaries to live out the remainder of their lives “…in peace and freedom.”   [6]

So…yes…the Free Packy Lady.  I encountered her when she was demonstrating outside of the zoo’s main entrance, one afternoon when I’d come to visit daughter Belle during her zoo volunteer shift.  I couldn’t tell, from the hand-written sign FPL held (which read “FREE PACKY”), if FPL was associated with a group or was there on her own, but she had a friendly face and I was in a curious mood.  I approached her, introduced myself, and asked if she would tell me why, as her sign indicated, she was advocating for Packy to be “free,” and what that term (“free”) meant to her?

 

 

FPL:
“It means Packy will be freed from life at the zoo.”

Moiself:
  “Okay.  So, freed *from* the zoo means…what?  Where would he live?”

FPL:
“There’s an elephant sanctuary in California (she probably meant this one),
and one in Tennessee.”

Moiself:
  “Oh, that would be The Hohenwald Sanctuary.”  [7]

FPL (gushing, eyes brightening):

“You know about the Howenwald sanctuary!?”

Moiself:
“I read their newsletter cover to cover.
I’ve been a monthly donor   [8]  for several years….”

Obviously thinking me to be a kindred spirit in the cause of elephant liberation, FPL began to dig into a large satchel she carried that was crammed with papers and pamphlets.

FPL:
“There’s a list of people you can call, to ask them to support the movement
to free Packy, and the other….”

Moiself (cutting her off, as politely as possible):
“Thank you, but I’m not going to do that.  Elephants are highly social creatures,
forming deep interpersonal bonds….”

FPL’s visage dulled.  I’m not sure how to describe it; it’s as if that translucent eyelid that some birds and reptiles have (a nictitating membrane ) lowered across her eyes.

 

 

Moiself:
  “…I think that removing Packy from his family
would be cruel and, I believe, misguided.  What do you think about alternative….”

FPL abruptly turned away from me and headed for a family with two toddler daughters who were approaching the zoo entry booth.

I rarely engage with petitioners and/or demonstrators, outside the zoo or elsewhere. In my experience their mentality is that of religious solicitors: they are there to proselytize, and don’t really want to engage you in actual give-and-take conversation.  Although I did engage another, free-Packy-the-elephant demonstrator ® at the zoo, a month or so later, again by the zoo entrance as I was leaving.  This demonstrator was there with a group, but stepped aside from the group to engage in an affable discussion with me.  We bonded over our mutual, lifelong interest in and love of elephants, and both acknowledged that the real danger facing Asian and African elephants is habitat destruction.  We had a good ten minute chat, and parted with a handshake as she agreed with my supposition that time and money might be better spent investing in ways to stop human elephant poaching and habitat encroaching rather than to work to “free” a USA-born elephant from the only home and family he has ever known.

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [9]

“A sharp distinction between humans and ‘animals’ is essential if we are to bend them to our will, make them work for us, wear them, eat them — without any disquieting tinges of guilt or regret. It is unseemly of us, who often behave so unfeelingly toward other animals, to contend that only humans can suffer. The behavior of other animals renders such pretensions specious.  They are just too much like us.”
Carl Sagan

 

 

*   *   *

May you strive to *not* talk shit in front of Granny;
May you appreciate the rareness that is a genuine conversation with a demonstrator;
May you realize it’s never too late to develop a lifelong love of elephants;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] Specifically, in the pear tree daughter Belle purchased and (with the help of MH) planted many years ago.

[2] Now defunct; it has morphed into ZAP, Zoo Apprenticeship Program.

[3] )….which they now realize will need modifications to ensure that a baby elephant will not be able to, say, squeeze under or between structures that would safely contain a juvenile or adult elephant.  Thus – surprise! – the announcement included a solicitation for donations for the retrofitting/improvements.

[4] “Twenty-eight calves have been born at the zoo since 1962, and the facility has become a leader in understanding the care, enrichment, and captive breeding of Asian elephants.”  (Oregon Encyclopedia: Packy the elephant. )

[5] Tacoma’s Pt Defiance Zoo is part of the Red Wolf Recovery program.  Red wolves are the most endangered mammal in the USA (less than 20 survive in the wild) and will only be repopulated due to the success of captive recovery programs.   Three species of rhino (black, Javan, and Sumatran) are critically endangered; the Oregon Zoo participates in the AZA’s breeding program for Black Rhinos, as the species is being decimated by poaching and habitat destruction.

[6] Packy was euthanized in 2017 due to a recurrence of drug-resistant tuberculosis.

[7] Now simply known as The Elephant Sanctuary.

[8] Still am.

[9] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.  No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org

The Month I’m Not Mourning

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It’s that time of the year again. As has become a tradition much maligned anticipated in our neighborhood, moiself  is hosting a different Partridge, every week, in my front yard’s pear tree.   [1]

Can you identify this week’s guest Partridge?

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Maybe Next Year….

As in, maybe next year November will return to being one of my favorite months.  But for now, good riddance.

 

 

November was a trying month, in many ways and for many reasons.  Its devastations included the death of a friend, a lovely, the-world-was-a-better-place-with-him-in-it  person, followed by the election of a the-world-will-be-a-wretched-place-with-him-and-his-henchmen-in power, despicable excuse for an arrangement of DNA.  The latter event contributed to my continuing disenchantment with the apparent values, cognitive abilities and perceptions of a good deal of my fellow Americans.

Still, there are good people still willing to fight the good fights, and there are Santa hats on the flamingoes.  What were those wise words of…who was it, Epicurus?  Paul McCartney?  Obladi; obladah; life goes on, brah.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Overheard Foolishness

I thought moiself  was done for the year, when it comes to explaining the holiday season to those whose certainty about their religion being the reason for the season is directly proportional to their ignorance of the historical facts behind what came to be known as Christmas.  But, nooooooooo, I had to overhear a couple of  Happy Holidays-Hating Halfwits carping about the subject at a grocery store.   [2]

 

 

The HHHH most likely don’t read my blog (poor deprived dears).  If they did, they’d know that I run moiself’s  annual blog post re the winter/fall holiday season origins on the Friday before Halloween, which was October 25 this year.  On the chance you have even a mosquito’s bunion’s amount of interest in being prepared should you encounter a HHHH, you can refresh (or repulse, or another re- reaction) yourself, here ( “The Holiday War I’m (Still) Not Declaring” ).  Or, for another rational take on the subject, treat yourself to journalist/religious studies graduate/author David G. McAfee’s entertaining and informative article on the subject – teasers to follow.

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [3]

“Contrary to what you might believe if you’ve been fed a steady diet of right wing
propaganda
over the last few decades, atheists don’t spend the holiday season
eagerly waiting for someone to wish them a “Merry Christmas!” so that they can
pounce on them insult their faith or file a lawsuit.
In other words, there is no “war on Christmas“….
… I and many other atheists enjoy celebrating as much as anyone else does
on December 25.  We might visit family, exchange gifts, overeat and do all the
other Christmas things…
In fact, a Pew Research Center study from 2013 showed that more than 80%
of non-Christians in the U.S. also celebrated Christmas….
So…why do atheists and other non-Christians want to celebrate
the birth of Jesus Christ, whom they don’t believe is divine?
The quick answer is that we don’t.

 

 

The fact is that the date of December 25 has about as much to do with Jesus as any
other date on the calendar, and that date is most certainly not the actual birthdate
of Jesus of Nazareth.   [4]

So, if the source isn’t biblical, how was December 25 first linked to Jesus’ birth?

Prior to the existence of Christmas…Romans already had multiple celebrations
around that same time of the year, as did many others around the world….
First, there was Saturnalia, which included feasting and gift exchange and
preceded a December 25 celebration of Sol Invictus, a Roman sun god.
December 25 also became associated with the god Mithra….

During the fourth century, during emperor Constantine’s reign, it was the
Catholic Church that decided to make Jesus’ birthday a formal holiday and set
that date for December 25, centuries after Jesus was said to have lived….

In modern times, Christmas is often treated as the sole December 25 holiday,
with some Christiansrefusing to acknowledge those that came prior to their holy
celebration – or that some Christian groups mark Christmas on a different date,
such as January 6, 7 or 19.”

( read the rest of the article here:
“Atheists aren’t fighting a ‘war on Christmas’ – many of us even celebrate it.
Christians don’t own the idea of a winter celebration.”

By David G. McAfee, Salon, 12- 2022 )

  

 

*   *   *

Department Of A Blast From The Past

What turned out to be the most convincing reason a  YOU-of-all-people-should-write-a-blog-why-aren’t-you-writing-a-blog?!?!?!   [5]   friend gave me (was it really over a dozen years ago?) for writing a blog was that the blog would serve as a journal of sorts for my life.  As in, I would have a record, or at least a random sampling, of what was on my mind during a certain period of time.  And now, that’s what I have.

 

 

I was feeling curious this week, about what was on my mind a year ago, early December.  Here is a sample from my blog of 12-8-23 ( The Oracles I’m Not Consulting ):

Department Am I So Lucky To Have Raised A Science *And* Film Nerd?

Dateline: last Saturday, circa 8:50 am.  The following IM message chat ensued between daughter Belle and moiself, after she’d IM’d me the previous evening to let me know she was going to see the new Godzilla movie.

Belle:
Okay Godzilla Minus One was AWESOME….
I know I recommend a lot of movies but I RECOMMEND this one.

Moiself:
I will see it for sure…We’ll see if I can drag MH to it.   

Belle:
It’s a pretty low budget film, but the combination of practical and special effects is really well done, and the story is really solid.
I also really like the Godzilla design.

Moiself :
He doesn’t have a peewee head, I hope.
In some past ones his head was out of proportion to his body, IMO.

Belle:
Sorry, his head is tiny haha.

Moiself:
😵‍💫

Belle:
… the tiny head had never really bothered me. It makes sense for a lizard that lives in land and water. It’s an aerodynamic shape; and, I think the canon is that he feeds off of radiation, so he technically doesn’t need a big mouth to eat anything

Moiself:
This conversation is so going in my next blog post.

You are right, of course. I think I’m reacting to having been imprinted on the original Godzilla, in which he had a much bigger head, more like a T-rex, but your commentary on the design makes sense.

Belle:
Because of course the anatomy of a giant radiation-consuming lizard has to make evolutionary sense!

Moiself:
Doesn’t the radiation trump evolution here?

Belle:
Exactly lol, I’m saying it’s kinda silly to assume the small head is because he doesn’t need to eat things when it’s a totally made-up monster.
But I like the case of evolution gone totally haywire.  That’s more fun.

 

*   *   *

May you enjoy serious discussions re the size of a movie monster’s head
with someone you love;
May you be the good people still willing to fight the good fights;
May you convert to pacifism anyone foolish enough to declare
that people are declaring a war on any holiday;

…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] Specifically, in the pear tree daughter Belle purchased and (with the help of MH) planted many years ago.

[2] Commiserating over being wished “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.”

[3] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.  No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org

[4]  “In fact, according to Luke 2:8, there were “shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night” on the date of Jesus’ birth, which would indicate a day more closely tied to springtime (due to weather conditions), according to the story. Other clues, including the biblical description of the alignment of the stars on the night that Jesus was born, back up that Jesus was likely born sometime in the spring, not winter.”

[5] I was adamant about not writing a blog…thus, the title of the blog I eventually decided to write.