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The Waste I’m Not Disposing Of

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Department Of Lost In Translation

“Thank you for helping us protect the habitats and wildlife of Connemara National Park. When you enjoy responsible outdoor recreation here, you help us preserve the Connemara wilderness and everything that makes it unique.”
(Intro to the Protect Nature/Useful Tips page
of the
Connemara National Park’s website

Certainly, the Irish have a unique way of seeing the world.  Despite knowing this, while starting to research visiting Ireland’s Connemara National Park moiself  did a double take when I came upon this symbol on the park’s website, under the heading of “dispose of waste properly.”  It was only after I read the accompanying blurb that I realized it was referring to garbage and litter, rather than…uh…human…waste.

 

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Department Of Things That Never Get Old   [1]

 

 

 

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Department Of Blast From The Past
Sub-Department Of Genius, Schmenius

Perhaps I’ve told this story before;  perhaps I’ll tell it again someday.

Dateline:

 

…more like 26-ish years ago.  This memory prompt happened earlier this week, when  I drove past the turn off road that led to our offspring’s favorite preschool/day care ( the owner/teacher called it, “Kids in the Country”), which was on a farm in southwest Hillsboro.  I remembereded how enchanted I was when, one day after I picked up son K from KITC, we spent the ride home with him telling me about the life cycle of an aphid ( KITC’s  project that week had been getting the kids to look intently at plants growing in the field, and learning about the insects that lived – either symbiotically or parasitically – on and around the plants ).  Stories like that from K were plentiful; the KITC kids  spent a lot of time playing and observing “nature” in the fields surrounding the house.

One afternoon when I’d picked him up from KITC, K was unusually – as in, completely – quiet.  I glanced at him occasionally via the rear-view mirror; he seemed to be mulling over something.  Eventually, apropos of nothing, he spoke up.

K:
“Mom?”

Moiself:
Yes?”

K:
Ball  and tall  rhyme, but  ball  and  boy  illiterate.”

Moiself:
That’s correct.”

Moiself  was gob-smacked; my heart swelled with parental pride ( read: hubris ) as I thought, He’s not yet five years old, yet K knows the difference between rhyme and alliteration!  I’m raising a effin’ genius.

Before my brain completed the thought, Belle, strapped in her car seat next to K, said something which annoyed him.  He turned to face his younger sister and spouted:

“Poo-poo stinky baby butt face!”

 Mission control to Robyn; please return to earth.

OK, that’s more like it.

 

Sure, and every kid gets a trophy.

 

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Department Of Random Thoughts About Random Chance

But first, a recommendation for a podcast listen:

“ ‘ Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.’
It’s been 45 years since John Lennon sang that line, yet it’s an idea that continues to speak to an uncomfortable truth. While we all like to think we have some measure of control over how our lives will unfold, our plans are often upended by unknown events and curveballs we couldn’t have predicted. This week, we conclude our Wellness 2.0 series by talking with political scientist Brian Klaas. He studies how we respond to the random events that shape our lives….”
( excerpts from the introduction/ description of
“Wellness 2.0: The Art Of The Unknown”Hidden Brain podcast, 1-27-25 ).

I’ve often thought that the study of random chance and luck –  or just the acknowledgment of their existence – might reduce human hubris in the world.   [2]   In some religious traditions and theologies, it’s almost heresy to speak of randomness events as having significant consequences in peoples’ lives, because the acknowledgement of that truth poses a problem for the quasi-spirituality of Everything happens for a reason – a daft phrase which sugar coats a difficult truth (“I don’t know why that happened/Hey, shit happens”).

Many people, and almost all religious worldviews, do not respond well to randomness.  This is because the certitude with which they promote themselves/their theologies (“we/our god/the great spirit of the cosmos has all the answers and is in control, don’t you worry”) erodes in the face of the admission of unpredictability.  New Age, woo-woo spiritualities have this problem as well.

Personally, moiself  thinks the next person who offers me Everything happens for a reason  as a response to and/or an explanation for human tragedy should be pelted by moiself  with chains of spiky, healing crystals.  Then, when the Everything happens for a reason numbskull asks, WTF is up?!?, I will respond with something along the lines of, “Well, it’s like you said: Everything happens for a reason, and since this thing is happening to you, it is happening  for a reason…and I must have a pretty good reason to want to shove this rainbow moonstone   [3]    up your ass.”

 

More on this next week.

 

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Department Of Lost In Translation, The Pathetic Sequel

“Pope Francis sharply criticized U.S. President Donald Trump’s immigration crackdown in an unusual open letter to America’s Catholic bishops…, saying criminalising migrants and taking measures built on force ‘will end badly.’.
The pope, who last month called Trump’s plan to deport millions of migrants a ‘disgrace,’ said it was wrong to assume that all undocumented immigrants were criminals.
‘I exhort all the faithful of the Catholic Church … not to give in to narratives that discriminate against and cause unnecessary suffering to our migrant and refugee brothers and sisters,’ said the pontiff….
‘What is built on the basis of force, and not on the truth about the equal dignity of every human being, begins badly and will end badly,’ he said.

In Tuesday’s letter, Francis also appeared to respond indirectly to Vice President JD Vance’s defence of the deportations.
Vance, a Catholic, defended the crackdown in a January social media post by referring to an early Catholic theological concept known as the ‘ordo amoris,’ or ‘order of love,’ to suggest that Catholics must give priority to non-immigrants.
The pope said: ‘The true ‘ordo amoris’ that must be promoted (is) … by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.’ “

( “Pope Francis tells US bishops Trump’s immigration policy ‘will end badly’,”
Reuters, 2-11-25 )

 

 

It was inevitable.  Catholic convert and he-who-puts-the-Vice-in-Vice-President, JD Lance – if for no other reason than to counter criticism of his principles after he was compassion and theology-shamed by his pope – was gonna have to speak about love.

But Vance’s version of love, like that of the love often spoken of/taught by patriarchal religions, is hierarchal.

Just as there is a conservative Christian hierarchy of family – god, husband, wife, children – there is also in that worldview a hierarchy, a prioritization, of love. First you love  here, then you love  there; first, you love this, your god, and *then* you can love your family, and then you can love your neighbor, and then you can love your… As a circle widens you can finally drop the possessive – “your” –  and, assuming there’s some leftovers, try to love those people who have little or no personal relationship to you.

In this politically conservative-informed theology, you love your deity first, then “you love your family and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then after, you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world” as Vance told a Fox News interviewer.

Y’all who subscribe to (or used to, or don’t any more but still have some admiration for) Jesus’s all inclusive, the-well-never-runs-dry  teachings about love, might be interested in the Gospel of Vance, in which Jesus’ lessons from scripture translates thusly:

America First.

I know; a link to a Fox News interview with JD Vance.  Ick.  I had to do an industrial strength sanitization to my eyes and the ears after listening to the clip, and then my fingers and keyboards after providing the link:

 

 

 

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Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [4]

 “Since opposed principles, or ideologies, are irreconcilable, wars fought over principle will be wars of mutual annihilation. But wars fought for simple greed will be far less destructive, because the aggressor will be careful not to destroy what he is fighting to capture.
Reasonable – that is, human – men will always be capable of compromise, but men who have dehumanized themselves by becoming the blind worshipers of an idea or an ideal are fanatics whose devotion to abstractions makes them the enemies of life.”
(  Alan Watts, The Way Of Zen )

 

 

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May you cherish the memory of when you understood
the difference between rhyme and alliteration;
May you acknowledge Random Chance and her sister, Luck;
May you see the life that happens while you’re making other plans;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

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[1] At least, to ever-youthful moiself.  Welcome to yet another new feature of the new year, which may continue on the third Friday of each month.  Or…not.

[2] Particularly that of the “I Pulled Myself Up By My Own Bootstraps” variety.

[3] “Rainbow Moonstone – Infused with feminine energy, this stone promotes the wisdom to accept the rise and fall, as well as the changing cycles in creative life. Constantly forcing creative energy can actually hold us back – this potent crystal helps us to go with the ebb and flow.”  ( The World’s Most Powerful Crystals )

[4] “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 Weekends I’m Not Narrating

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In an effort to protect the privacy of friends, family and acquaintances from the torrents of attention likely to befall anyone who has the dreadful misfortune coveted windfall of being mentioned by name in this blog, I’ve been using pseudonyms and/or first and last initials instead of names. Clever moi, until attentive reader MH (my husband) pointed out that last Friday’s blog post referenced two different people who were both “initialized” as LH.

Mistakes were made.  Initial usage will be more carefully monitored, with (are you sitting down for this?) middle name initials added for clarity. Better yet, humiliating nicknames may be assigned.

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The 2012 election is history and the MR [1] whine-rate about why he lost has trickled down to about one per day. Isn’t it a relief to realize we can stop perusing the news sites for the latest political shenanigans and get back – to using the internet in ways more productive to our intellects and overall mental well-being? Yes, I refer to watching cute cat videos:

Mea kitty culpa.  Not what I’d intended as the exemplar. However.  A kitten de-fooding in time to “Wannabe” – how cute is that?

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~ Things I didn’t know until yesterday ~

 Your car’s emissions control system has something called a purge valve, a device I until now associated with snorkels and body-image-obsessed teenagers. If your bulimic automobile’s purge valve malfunctions and needs to be replaced, the service bill may make you want to, well, do a purge of your own.

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Two barfing references in a row – that was unintentional.  (Really, Mom).

As today’s title suggests, I was going to write about two recent weekend getaways MH and I had. Both were in October. Trip 1 qualifies as such only if you consider staying at a hotel a mere eleven miles from your house to be a getaway[2]. This outing was to attend the Freedom From Religion Foundation‘s annual convention, which this year was oh-so-conveniently-for-us held in Portland. Trip 2 involved a drive up to Tacoma, to visit our son, the lovely and talented K, during the University of Puget Sound‘s Homecoming/Parents weekend.

About our excursions I tried to write, but distracted I got.[3]

The past week, quelle fromage! So many award-worthy characters and incidents…I thought I was safe from such diversions, what with the election finished. Silly moi. I tried, and failed, to skim past the Yahoo/Google news headlines or the front pages of the four (yes, four) dead tree newspapers[4] to which our household subscribes. The stories I read reminded me of the plots of movies – really bad and/or surreal movies. It seemed as if an Academy Awards Ceremony of human folly was parading on a red carpet before my eyes, begging for the chance to practice their bogus heartfelt, it’s-an-honor-just-to-be-nominated speeches.

In consideration of the audience’s attention span and sanity, the Academy shall whittle down the number of awards presented, cut the opening monologue, memorial montages, nominated song performances and winners’ acceptance speeches – oh hell, we’ll skip all the nominees and go directly to the awards in three categories. The ceremony director promises to instantly cut to a SNL adult diaper commercial spoof should any of the winners attempt to thank their agents, accountants or parole officers.

~ Best/Worst Foreign Documentary ~

Asshat of the week isn’t nearly a…sufficient…moniker for those who caused the death of Savita Halappanavar.

Halappanavar, a 31-year-old, 17-weeks pregnant dentist, presented with severe back pain at Galway University Hospital in late October. After doctors confirmed she was miscarrying, Ms. Halappanavar asked for a medical termination. Savita’s husband, Praveen Halappanavar, an engineer at Boston Scientific in Galway, says his wife asked several times over a three-day period that the pregnancy be terminated, but her request was refused because the fetal heartbeat was still detected (“This is a Catholic country,”[5] Savita and Praveen were told). Savita spent a further three days “in agony” until the fetal heartbeat stopped, after which the doctors removed the dead fetus and took Savita to the intensive care unit, where she died of septicemia.

Heart-wrenching, scandalous, deplorable, merciless, primitive, callous – of the many dreadful descriptions  that can be applied to this travesty of medical “care,” surprising isn’t one of them. This is what happens, outrageously but totally predictably, when governments allow interpretations of Iron Age mythologies to influence and even dictate 21st century medical decisions.  As Irish Parliament member Clare Daly pointed out, “An unviable fetus…was given priority over a women’s life.”

And so the Academy regretfully but appropriately decrees that the Hated Abyss Foe[6] Award be shared among:

* the Galway University Hospital staff
* the entirety of RC hierarchy; the incense-huffing/pederast-protecting/mackerel-snapping swarm of Men Who Dress Like Women But Refuse to Ordain Them
* the Irish government – nay, the whole damn adult population of servile, papist-toadying citizens of the country responsible for  50% of my genetic material[7].

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~ Most Superfluous Supporting Performance in An Increasingly Silly Scandal ~

There are many deserving nominees among the dramatis personae of the General Petraeus dramedy, and the cast is increasing daily. The nominations must be closed at some point; thus, The Anthony Weiner Memorial Man Boob Award goes to Shirtless FBI Agent [8], with honorable mention to all other  XY chromosome holders who just can’t seem to help themselves when it comes to sending pictures of their amazing man parts to their (allegedly) awestruck lady friends and rent boys.

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Pardon the Academy’s digression, but if you’ve paid the slightest amount of attention to the convoluted shenanigans of General P and his wacky sidekicks (bankrupt/deadbeat mother/military-soiree-throwing socialites are the latest addition), you may understand yet another of the 200+ WhyamIdoingthis? reasons that cause me, every day of my working life, to consider taking down my Fiction Writer shingle. Nothing I could dream up would be as entertaining as the flapdoodle follies of What Goes On In Real Life. ®

Nevertheless, the Academy soldiers on. The last award category:

~ Most Pathetic Adapted or Original Screenplay ~

WhyamIdoingthis? reason # 124 is receiving a note like the following, from the lovely editor of a respected, long-established[9] university literary press. Years ago this editor reviewed stories of mine from my first book of short fiction, and asked to see more of my work when I had a second collection ready. The brevity of her gracious response to my query belies the extent of the troubles afflicting literary publishers.[10] 

Hi, Robyn—
Unfortunately, the ___ Press is out of business.  I’m sorry, because your collection sounds appealing. I wish you all the best in your search for a publisher.
Sincerely, _____

The Academy, in a rare moment of self-awareness, is rethinking its position, and admits that any award bestowed in this category could only be a blatant exercise in self-pity. The woes of writers are nowhere near as noteworthy to humanity as, say, disfiguring genital cancers, or fecaluria,[11] or the recent reminders of how Lee Atwater, the notorious GOP political strategist, refined and promoted[12] the Southern Strategy. Thus the Academy in its infinite wisdom is suspending the ceremony, and suggests for your continuing entertainment that you imagine having the cinematic ability to inflict integrity-free political strategists with disfiguring genital cancers and poo-pissing.

Hilarity ensues.  Or not.

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Smarter People than Us Said This

Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory unannounced, stray dogs that amble in, sniff around a bit and simply never leave. Our lives are measured by these.  (Susan B. Anthony)

Wishing you all a week filled with memorable, stray-dog-sniffing incidents.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!


[1] Speaking of initials, how appropriate, if not PC.

[2] Anyone with teenagers and pets knows the answer is a resounding, Yessss!

[3] “Do or do not. There is no try.” But somebody, please, DO TRY to get this Yoda voice out of my head. Help me Obi-wan; you’re my only hope.

[4] Epithet courtesy of attorney/writer/blogger SCM. Shelley, here’s your citation!

[5] Halappanavar told the hospital staff, “I am neither Irish nor Catholic,” but they said they couldn’t do anything.

[6] Scrambled acronym: Eat Shit And Die You Festering Excuse of a Sentient Human Being

[7] I’m half Irish, from both my parents. There is no escape.

[8] Makes me wonder, what are the qualifications to join our nation’s “intelligence” services?  I’m guessing when this particular agent filled out his FBI application, at the bottom of the form where it says “sign here,” he wrote, “Aquarius.”

[9] publishing works in the humanities, medicine and literary fiction since the 1930s.

[10] the editorial assistant of the press’ parent company was not even aware that the imprint had suspended operations.

[11] The passing of feces through the urethra due to an intestinal-bladder fistula.

[12] The Nation dug up an interview with infamous GOP strategist Lee Atwater, who explained how Republicans can win the vote of racists without sounding racist themselves:  “You start out in 1954 by saying, ‘Nigger, nigger, nigger.’ By 1968 you can’t say ‘nigger’ — that…backfires. So you say stuff like forced busing, states’ rights, and all that stuff, and you’re getting so abstract. Now, you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is, blacks get hurt worse than whites…. ‘We want to cut this,’ is much more abstract than even the busing thing, uh, and a hell of a lot more abstract than ‘Nigger, nigger.'”