A Reason to Visit Georgia

Statement of Principles

I am, by nature, a cynic, a critic, and an iconoclast. I use this blog as a creative outlet to purge my soul of the negative streams inherent in iconoclasm, criticism, and cynicism.

As such, this blog partially reflects my philosophy, my personality, and my preoccupations.

If you judge me harshly because of my occasional harsh denunciations, recall Hamlet:

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Here, let me get the tab . . .

Beware the motivation of a monkey who buys you dinner.

Oh, those scheming monkeys!

Animal Nature

We will never escape our animal nature. As such, our demons — aggression, murder, starvation, disease — will always be with us. We needn’t wait for the apocalypse, needn’t wait for the hoofbeats of the dread horsemen to realize this truth.

We will never escape our animal nature. As such, our noblest impulses — love and compassion — will never desert us. For the beauty of God breathes within the souls of beasts:

In 2003, police in Warwickshire, England, opened a garden shed and found a whimpering, cowering dog. It had been locked in the shed and abandoned. It was dirty and malnourished, and had clearly been abused.

In an act of kindness, the police took the dog, which was a greyhound female, to the nearby Nuneaton and Warwickshire Wildlife Sanctuary, run by a man named Geoff Grewcock and known as a willing haven for animals abandoned, orphaned or otherwise in need.

Geoff Grewcock and the other sanctuary staff went to work with two aims: to restore the dog to full health, and to win her trust. It took several weeks, but eventually both goals were achieved.

They named her Jasmine, and they started to think about finding her an adoptive home.

The dog had other ideas. No-one remembers now how it began, but Jasmine started welcoming all animal arrivals at the sanctuary. It wouldn’t matter if it was a puppy, a fox cub, a rabbit or, probably, a rhinoceros, Jasmine would peer into the box or cage and, where possible, deliver a welcoming lick.

Geoff Grewcock relates one of the early incidents. “We had two puppies that had been abandoned by a nearby railway line. One was a Lakeland Terrier cross and another was a Jack Russell Doberman cross. They were tiny when they arrived at the centre and Jasmine approached them and grabbed one by the scruff of the neck in her mouth and put him on the settee. Then she fetched the other one and sat down with them, cuddling them.”

“But she is like that with all of our animals, even the rabbits. She takes all the stress out of them and it helps them to not only feel close to her but to settle into their new surroundings.

“She has done the same with the fox and badger cubs, she licks the rabbits and guinea pigs and even lets the birds perch on the bridge of her nose.”

Jasmine, the timid, abused, deserted waif, became the animal sanctuary’s resident surrogate mother, a role for which she might have been born. The list of orphaned and abandoned youngsters she has cared for comprises five fox cubs, four badger cubs, 15 chicks, eight guinea pigs, two stray puppies and 15 rabbits.

And one roe deer fawn. Tiny Bramble, 11 weeks old, was found semi-conscious in a field. Upon arrival at the sanctuary, Jasmine cuddled up to her to keep her warm, and then went into the full foster mum role. Jasmine the greyhound showers Bramble the roe deer with affection and makes sure nothing is matted in her fur.

“They are inseparable,” says Geoff Grewcock. “Bramble walks between her legs and they keep kissing each other. They walk together round the sanctuary. It’s a real treat to see them.”

Jasmine will continue to care for Bramble until she is old enough to be returned to woodland life. When that happens, Jasmine will not be lonely. She will be too busy showering love and affection on the next orphan or victim of abuse. (Source)

The Eye of God

Beautiful, isn’t it?

It is also known as The Helix Nebula.

Now I look forward to the discovery of the Asshole of God. Oh, right:

(File this observation under the heading Anthropomorphism and its Discontents.)

He who is without sin

[His stone gathering behavior] implies that [chimps] have a highly developed consciousness, including life-like mental simulations of potential events. They most probably have an ‘inner world’ like we have when reviewing past episodes of our lives or thinking of days to come

Notes to MS “engineers”:

Computers are machines
 
Machines are used by people
 
People are not machines

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∴ Design software for people

Apotheosis of Servility

“God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next…. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connexion between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do His work; I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep His commandments and serve Him in my calling.

Therefore I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us. He does nothing in vain; He may prolong my life, He may shorten it; He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers, He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me –still He knows what He is about.”

John Henry Newman, Meditations and Devotions (Source)

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One of the things that I hate most is the arrogance of our species. To religious types, humans are the sine qua non, the being without which the universe would be meaningless.

(To patriotic types, America is the sine qua non, the country without which the world would be meaningless.)

Such stupidity and such arrogance surely spring from infinite wells of insecurity and fear. Oh, irony! That the so-called “wise ape” needs servility blankets: patriotism and God.

The Infinite Absurdity of Hinduism

Hindus worship cows. I love how they taste.

Via Der Spiegel, I discovered that some enterprising hindus are bringing a soft drink based on cow urine to market.

Cow urine, from indian cows, apparently also has marvellous curative powers. And how does cow urine acquire these powers? Apparently from its hump, which “serves as a pyramid and absorbs cosmic rays from the universe.”

Unfortunately, we humans lack the holy hump, so our urine is only good for fertilizer. And golden showers.

In the Shadow of Joy

The feeling I have when surrounded by Obamaphiles reminds me of my adolescent experience in a pentecostal church: discomforting. Long ago I realized that Barack Obama is a salesman peddling a product: Barack Obama. Naturally, this makes me a pariah — an alien sensation! — among many.

Enthusiasm and euphoria, especially of a religious nature, is immune to inquiry and analysis. Being high is justification enough. So because I am loathe to ruin their buzz, among Obamaphiles I smile and remain silent.

When I want to voice my opinion, I remind myself of the Taoist maxim: Spare speech and let things be. And I comfort myself with In Tenebris #2 by Thomas Hardy.

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WHEN the clouds’ swoln bosoms echo back the shouts of the many and strong
That things are all as they best may be, save a few to be right ere long,
And my eyes have not the vision in them to discern what to these is so clear,
The blot seems straightway in me alone; one better he were not here.

The stout upstanders say, All’s well with us; ruers have nought to rue!
And what the potent say so oft, can it fail to be somewhat true?
Breezily go they, breezily come; their dust smokes around their career,
Till I think I am one born out of due time, who has no calling here.

Their dawns bring lusty joys, it seems; their evenings all that is sweet;
Our times are blessed times, they cry: Life shapes it as is most meet,
And nothing is much the matter; there are many smiles to a tear;
Then what is the matter is I, I say. Why should such a one be here?…

Let him in whose ears the low-voiced Best is killed by the clash of the First,
Who holds that if way to the Better there be, it exacts a full look at the Worst,
Who feels that delight is a delicate growth cramped by crookedness, custom and fear,
Get him up and be gone as one shaped awry; he disturbs the order here.

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Cynics and gadflys have always been pariahs and outcasts.

Hmm. Maybe I should start a commune.