Ottawa's looming graffiti crisis

Lately I've been reading overheated media coverage of Ottawa's graffiti problem. You know, Krylon Invasion, city councillors buying business constituents high pressure washers to zap offending spraybombage - like that. I've been ambivalent. I know a lot of it defaces private property, but we coyotes like certain graffiti. Some of it is really beautiful, and when I see it, it makes me happy. I speak of the true public artists. Taggers? Not so much. May their sooty black aerosol cans explode in their sweaty little mitts. I digress.

Saturday, though, I sprayed a mouthful of my customary breakfast (Piping hot crumpets, cat marmalade, steaming mug of fresh-brewed vitriol) all over my morning Petfinder. Patrick Curran, OC Transpo's business development manager, was floating a trial balloon about selling transit station names to the highest-bidding corporate sponsors. Some city councillors and the usual suspects on the editorial page seemed to like it.

The argument is that Transpo needs the money, and there's no more space for ads on the buses. Seems to me that maybe the city should just fund the service properly. But dreaming up billion dollar tunnels and harebrained 'innovations' is way more fun than making sure the existing bus system works well in the most basic ways.

Mr. Curran rather disingenuously notes that St. Laurent transit station already is named for the attached mall, and argues that opens the door to more of the same. Nice try at historical revisionism to support a thin-end-of-the-wedge propaganda technique, but, ummm, no. The mall is labelled for the rather prominent nearby boulevard that the mall promoters swiped its name from.

Ottawa is a town where, when a boneheaded fuckwit has a idea that shrieks out for rapid trashing, then tries to smoke it past us by self-diagnosing it as 'innovative', a buncha other boneheaded fuckwits will nod sagely and murmur, "Mmmm... innovative!" It's how decisions are made. But non-sequitur-ish corporate sponsorship isn't innovative. It's already been inflicted elsewhere. Yoohoo! Senators Coliseum? Which became the Corel Centre? An asshatted monument to momentary corporate hubris - and sanctioned graffiti, really. Now it's ScotiaBank Place...

Transit is about moving people efficiently. Renaming transit stations - all of which now (very handily) key on nearby geographical features - is not. We already let businesses deface the cityscape by smearing it with their kind of graffiti. We just call them 'logos', 'signs' and 'advertising'. Why let 'em further confuse a bus ride, too?

The Dark Underside of Blogging

Black and blue and squirrelly all over

I had a doctor's appointment over the lunch hour last week and, afterwards, decided to pop home for a moment.

I was distressed to find a rather large black squirrel lying quite dead in the middle of my winding driveway, just a few paces from the moat that surrounds the observatory.

Did I forget to pay the Italian taxes on ESI's global headquarters? I wondered. Is this how the good fathers of Tuscany remind Canadian residents their payments are overdue?

I fork over a lot of property taxes in this country, too.

Now is the chance, I thought, for the City of Ottawa to make up for its lacklustre, sporadic and altogether uninspired snow-removal efforts on my Centretown street.

After all, the squirrel, though on my driveway, was actually on city property, which extends several metres inward from the curb. And you can't be too careful, right? West Squirrel Virus may be running amok, infecting the downtown core.

I dialled 311 and after a little push-button menu-manoeuvring was duly assured a city roads crew would come pick up my ex-rodent friend. It was dark when I got home, so I didn't notice till the next day that someone, likely a neighbour, had simply moved the squirrel slightly to the right, atop a small stone ledge that borders my driveway.

Another call to the city. Yes, at this point I could have bagged the fluffy-tailed critter (sorry, Coyote) myself. But it was the principle of the thing. Again I was told the squirrel would be gone by day's end. No such luck.

Day Three: yet another call, and another promise. But as of suppertime Friday, my open-air squirrel cemetery was still thriving. Call four: I was told a supervisor would phone me shortly to advise when the road crew would arrive. An hour passed. Still nothing.

Finally, I walked outside with a plastic bag, grabbed a shovel and scooped the poor animal inside, then disposed of him as nobly as I could under the circumstances. Death is never pretty. And the whole thing made me a little sad.

I called the city for the fifth time. Don't bother coming, I said. It didn't seem right to make the squirrel, or me, wait any longer.

Photo: Squirrel, not exactly as illustrated.

Google Poem: Really I'm Not

* I'M NOT NARCISSISTIC BUT I KNOW I'M QUIT ATTRACTIVE AND WOULD NEVER EVER TOLERIATE THAT IN MY RELATIONSHIP THERE NEEDS TO BE EQUALITY ...

* I'm ENTp and no, I'm not narcissistic but I've always known I was different. Break The Shade.: Kissing Boys, Getting High, Drinking BeerI’m not narcissistic but I was looking hella sexy that day.

* and i'm not narcissistic, but honestly i'm not that interested in being in CE, is full of apex kids and i can't handle them.

*I'm not narcissistic, but I like to take care of myself. I'm attracted to women who are the same way. (who take care of themselves...not me, ...

* no i'm not narcissistic, but i applied for a job and the first thing they do is google applicants' names!!! i just wanted to see what came up!!!

* That's not to say that I'm not narcissistic, but this isn't evidence for it.

* I'm not narcissistic, but I do love the way I am and look and just exactly what I am.

* Me, myself, and I. I’m not narcissistic but I have to paint what comes from the inside.

* I'm not Narcissistic. But I really have to reveal this secret. I was a wonder boy when I was young.

* If you Log in you could create a "i'm not narcissistic, but i might be the one." node. If you don't already have an account, you can Create A New User. ...

* My hair, I'm not narcissistic, but my hair rocks, and it is normally the first thing people notice about me.

* I'm not narcissistic but look at me anyway.

* And no, I'm not narcissistic, but my mother was and my children's aunt is.

* I wouldn't say I'm not narcissistic, but there are times when kids get a bit self-centered.

*I'm not narcissistic, but I have lived for 19 years. I'm a little hard to impress. The secret to me, though, is that I'll be an asshole until you prove you ...

* I like to think that I'm not narcissistic, but I have a feeling that I probably am...at least a little. This list is probably a good indication that I am.

* You need to know that I'm not narcissistic, but I do know I have my charms and good qualities.

[Source]

10 Things I Hate About You *

* And yes, that means you, Sparks Street Mall

1. No trees.

2. One word: Yesterday's.

3. Wanna drive your big honkin' poison-spewing SUV down Sparks? Then park it there for hours? No problem.

4. Wanna ride your relatively unobtrusive eco-friendly bicycle down Sparks? Pay a hefty fine.

5. Constant tearing down, reinvention and overhaul -- seemingly on a whim.

6. Tacky souvenir joints.

7. Army of smokers blocking every second doorway.

8. Remote regions of Antarctica have more exciting nightlife.

9. Sadly, most distinctive Canadian feature is Tim Hortons.

10. All street, no sparks.

The rumours are all true....I have a huge crush on Milan!

I can't help it. This young man is BRILLIANT, a prolific blogger, an amazing photographer...and he's adorable! Have you checked out his c.v.? After reading his two posts of today, I can't contain myself anymore! He got me with the lemonade stand metaphor...or, was it a simile? And the "Aragorn Fallacy"... I'm speechless. I'm in love. I know, he is just a teeny bit too young for me. I think we can overcome those decades. Look at Demi and Ashton. If they can do it, anyone can!

Other Things That Larry Did Not Do This Past Week1

People are making a big fuss over the mayor wanting to erase a recording. But let's all remember, he did not actually erase it. No harm, no foul, right? And there are a lot of other bad things he did not do this week, for example, he did not:

1. Taser or threaten to taser somebody's son [* *]
   
2. Unleash emus on an unsuspecting village in Eastern Ontario [*]
   
3. Induce miscarriages as an art project after artificially inseminating himself [* *]
   
4. Give a young wife that he's never slept with 30 days to move out of her apartment. [*]
5. [there is no fifth thing]
   
6. Consistently arrive late for practices and reportedly party in nightclubs and thus lose the season for the Senators [*]
7. Kill a baby seal
   
8. Protest the hunting of baby seals [*]
   
9. Create huge fund-raising debt by appearing nude in a calendar that sold poorly [*]
10. Tow away a repossessed car with a sleeping child inside [*]
11. Cut a henchman's brake cables to distract a superhero while he commits another crime

While we're on the topic of erasing things, in the old days, we used to carry big magnets to erase audio and videotape. Magnets might not work on the new chips they use, but what about a taser?



¹ As far as we know.

Suddenly, definitively, spring

Word Cop - You probably mean "Taut"

These examples tempt me to reproach their authors "in a sarcastic, insulting, or jeering manner" for failing to express that the subject of their adjective was tight, strained or tense.

random drabble Asher/Schuldig 14 Apr 2008 by dark_avalon
Under that impossible pale skin the muscle was taunt and waiting. Schuldig continued his exploration of his lover's body. Glancing coyly up, Schuldig moved his hand lower and ran fingers over sensitive flesh. From root to tip with only

[lymphland] helping hands in the news 7 Feb 2008 by Andromeda
"The skin on his arm was taunt and there was no mobility." Through therapy, Warren Swenson has been able to regain enough mobility to do things for himself, and he has been trying to do things he used to do. ...

the on you're trying to save 5 Apr 2008 by you don't need a licence to drive a sandwich
His back is taunt muscle, pale and sinew, his spine a knobbed line, curves into and under the edge of his draws. Watch, he slowly pulls over his shirt. It’s really easy to forget, sometimes, that he’s only fifteen. ...

Kyou Kara Maou Fanfiction 14 Apr 2008 by schnickledoogr2
Waltorana, himself seemed taunt, however there was an air of superiority as he took a seat, as if he had gained the upper hand in some hidden matter. The meal that evening consisted of silence except the dinging noises of silverware on ...

On The Key to Rebecca 3 Mar 2008 by NL
Follett’s style is taunt and crisp, the action tense, but the novel is weighed down by a weak love story and the incompetence of the two main characters. Simply put, the spy and counter spy are just dumb. ...

So Dead My Lovely by Day Keene 20 Feb 2008 by Absinthe
But no matter this slim novel is taunt and tight and suspenseful and will hold the reader until the last page. Even though I had figured it out and put the pieces in the puzzle before the unveiling it is still a wonderful ...

Re: Patio awning adjustment 24 Feb 2008
When it is going out it is taunt but at the end of the stroke it goes from tight to loose at full extension. The upper arms have measurements on them and they are not even ( front one is 42 the rear reads 44, inches??). ...

There’s One in Every Crowd 13 Mar 2008 by theo
Take care to notice how the net is taunt at the beginning of the scene, but is significantly dipping at the end to account for all of the 5′7″ that is Tom Cruise and allow him to spike over the net. : ...

Fisher-Bot 31 Mar 2008 by Deth-B0y
If the line is taunt, i cannot set the hook (it would increase the line tension). If the line is slack, i can set the hook. So, a simple rule might be: "If the line tension is moderate or less (ie, 3 or less) and hook is not set above ...

Broken Sky [12] 7 Jan 2008 by your offering pleases tubby
Yang's chiseled face looked taunt with worry, and his brows were furrowed, and his face bathed in the soft glow of the candles. There was long moment before the other spoke, the flickering light casting dancing shadows on his face. ...

Return Of The Demon Chap. Three 12 Jan 2008 by hellz_happyface
Her small mouth was taunt and drawn in a hard line, her old bones becoming weaker. Her white, brittle hair was pinned high on her head, growing finer every day. But she carried herself with grace, with pride, giving anyone she met a ...

Let's talk Tasers

In the spirit of Full Service Blogging™, let's talk Tasers.

Apply Liberally is all over the latest round of the public, seemingly eternal Mayor Larry et-family-al trainwreck. Other pastures beckon. Apropos of which, I must declare my bias. My views may be coloured by puppyhood brushes with electric cattle fences: innocently skootching under a wire into a pasture and, ***BLAMMO*** I'm on my butt with my tail smokin' and my ears ringing. You figure out which side I take...

Most of us have seen the appalling video of Robert Dziekanski, and the national followup since last November. I keep seeing things that make me go "Whaaaaa...?". So many, in fact, that I only have time to hit this week's.

First: That while the CEO (Read: head salesman) of Taser International manages to get before a parliamentary committee in January to try to control the damage to his brand and pre-define the public debate (Roughly, "It's not a Taser-related death if the victim doesn't kick off while the probes are still glowing -- two minutes later and it ain't us, eh?") Dziekanski's mother didn't get a rebuttal until yesterday.

Second: That Vancouver transit cops have used these things as electric people prods on at least three people trying to do bunks after not paying their fares. The highest fare is, ummm, five bucks. Sadly, this is not isolated behaviour: there appear to be examples in many police services where 'boys with toys' have zapped (alleged) perps just because they have the damned things.

Third: That Ottawa City Police seem to feel that a Taser-mounted camera that starts rolling when the safety is turned off, stopping again when the thing is turned off after firing, addresses the problem. Ummm, I'm thinking that in any incident like this, one of the important bits is what pissed off the cop enough to thumb that safety in the first place. Not that I distrust police, but just to prove real provocation existed. Say, in a court of law.

I note with interest that spokesmen for both the Vancouver and Ottawa police took care to call the Taser "a tool", and that Taser - by its own narrow terms - labels it "non-lethal".

It's a weapon, dammit. Police may or may not need such a weapon in their arsenals. But let's not let the RCMP try to whitewash their use of Tasers. Let's not try to spin them to appear not to be weapons. Let's not let ourselves be spun. Already too many cops and quasi-cops apparently have drunk the soft soap from this heavy-duty spin cycle, and so have used these weapons where they're not warranted. And people - quite arguably - have died because of it.

Image: Siftings, Arkansas Herald

And also: love, sweet love

The world needs a new model of politics where a diverse ecosystem of providers offers a variety of institutions that evolve to serve their citizens.
Simply put, the world needs a straight-shooter like Barry Allen again.

the world needs a hero

Clearly, the world needs a massive amount of carbon-free electricity by 2050 to stabilize greenhouse gas emissions.
Iran's defense minister said last Monday the world needs a missile shield to protect against threats from Israel and the United States.
The world needs a BRAVESTARR live action movie, starring THE ROCK.
The World Needs A Good Gorilla Suit
The world needs a gadget that can transport people and things anywhere they want to go.

The World Needs a Hero

Everything in the world needs a change for the better over time.

The World Needs a Hero

The world needs a new, non-polarised, and non-contentious politic; one not made possible by those in situations that promote a left-right, black-white, capitalist-communist, believer-infidel thinking.
I Think The World Needs A Drink
The world needs a place like Biola that does not compromise, that’s rigorous in its academic programs — a place where parents can send their children, not to have their values undermined, but built up
The movie offers no solution for redemption and change but I was reminded how much the world needs a savior.
The scale of the obesity epidemic is such that the world needs a global pact on the best ways to tackle it.

The World Needs a Hero

The world needs a better mobile mail client
the world needs a lot more cloud computing choices.
The world needs a little more Robot
The World Needs A Better News Filter
I believe that the world needs a recess!
the world needs a hub.

I guess the world needs a lot more to learn...

[*]

Other Coyote Blogs

We are proud to have Coyote on the ESI team. He is a poet, a photographer, a wit, a genius, a gem. And, he is cute! We love him dearly. I decided to see what other coyotes were out there in the blogosphere. Below is what I found. Nothing, of course, rivals our coyote!

Most famous Coyote in the blogosphere: Coyote Blog. This blog is the work of libertarian, Warren Meyer, a small business owner in Phoenix. He is quite famous, apparently, and sells stuff. He has also come up with something called Coyote's Law. He thinks conspiracy theories are stupid, but I kind of like them. Like a lot of libertarians, he is a clever fellow, but really really jaded. He used to work for Exxon. I think he would think I'm stupid, but I don't care.

Most granola Coyote in the blogosphere: Clay Coyote. This blog was created by a couple of potters named Tom and Betsy. They seem really really nice. They blog about pottery, kitties! and casseroles. Sweet.

Most German Coyote in the blogsphere: Coyote Knows Best. Sprechen-Sie Deutsch? Ich spreche kein Deutch, aber die Bloggen really really seems sehr interessiert.

Most Obnoxious Coyote in the blogsphere: Quantum Coyote. He's a cyclist who, thankfully, is no longer blogging.

My most favourite Coyote blog (besides our Coyote) in the blogsphere: The Daily Coyote. This woman is really really cool. She adopted an orphan coyote and lives with him and her kitty in a one-room cabin in Wyoming. She also travelled across the country in a Vespa and wrote a gluten-free cookbook.

Ask Frank

As part of their expanding public service mandate, the ESIs are proud to offer an insightful new advice column. None other than The Chairman of the Board himself will take all manner of questions and solve vexing problems.

Q: Hey Frank, I over-contributed to my RRSP last year and now my taxes are a mess. Please help.

A: Whoa, sounds like someone had a bangup year at the craps table! Doncha worry, my friend. Sammy had the same problem with the IRS boys back in '68. Here's what ya gotta do. Go to the Canada Revenue Agency website. Download one of them T3012A forms. Fill 'er out. Now getchyer mitts on a T-1 ADJ schedule. Attach it all together and send the whole whack of stuff off to the taxman. Yeah, I know. It all sounds kinda complicated. But soon you'll be scoobydooing your way back to the roulette wheel. Got it, fella?

Confession - Part II

iamaknitter,andiplantopostaboutknitting!

Phew, that feels better.

If this had been a contest, Zoom would have won!

Confession - Part I

Woodsy has a confession to make.

Whether I have decided to confess because seeing the image of the nuns about to kiss brought up my latent catholic guilt, or because this post is my first attempt at self-referential wanking really doesn’t matter. What matters is that I have to come clean with the ESI gang.

You brought me into your group knowing that unlike the rest of you, I am not a polished writer. I classify turnips and radishes for a living after all.

You brought me into your group accepting that I often refer to myself in the 3rd person. Some of you have commented that this is odd behaviour, but obviously odd character traits are valued at ESI.

You brought me into your group with an open mind about my flirting with both sexes, and my floozy ways. Actually, some of you have already taken advantage of those qualities in me.

All that did not affect your decision.

But had you known what I will reveal in Confession Part II, would you have voted me in?

After the Flirtation: Getting some Action at the Movies

There has been some talk around here lately about flirting. Seems some of you are comfortable flirting, some of you have issues with flirting and some of you don't know you're being flirted with until someone plants a wet one on your lips.

I, of course, am an expert on flirtation, but rather than share my expertise with you people at no charge, I am holding out for a government contract. As you've no doubt heard, the government of Singapore has introduced a university course on flirtation. In a year or two, they will need someone to lead their graduate-level classes and they'll be looking to hire me. Either that, or our own government will realize that Canada is falling behind in the love-gap and bring me in to straighten things out.

Still I have some advice for you developmentally-delayed daters. Here it is:

Movies are for First Dates!

I can hear you already! "Are you crazy, Dwarf? You don't go to a movie on the first date! You can't talk at the movies. You can't learn more about the person."

I say, "exactly!" You can't talk at the movies. The more you talk with someone, the more likely you are to find out things about each other that will turn you off. There is plenty of evidence that the time you spend before the movie is more than enough time for two people to become attracted to each other and things you believe are turn-offs and turn-ons for you, probably aren't. [e.g. News or Journal].

And if you don't know each other, after the movie you will have a shared experience to talk about.

Then there's the situation where the date is with someone you know really well. Maybe for years. Had lunch together every work day for months. Helped each other buy clothes. Let's face it, if you're in this situation another opportunity for talking is not going to help you get on base. Go to a movie.

You're in the dark, you can't talk, but you can smooch. If the movie is awful, smooching will improve it; if the movie is wonderful, smooching will add to the emotion.

Tips for Action

1. Sit in the back row. So you won't feel observed.
2. Wear a shirt with buttons. If you're wearing a boy shirt, sit on the right, your date's hand will more easily slip inside; sit on the left if you're wearing a girl shirt.
3. If you're holding the popcorn, accidentally move it when your date goes for it, gently place their hand where you think it should be.
4. If your date is holding the popcorn, accidentally miss the box, let it stay there longer than necessary.
5. Ostentatiously yawn, stretch your arms, and let your arm fall over your date's shoulder. Smile to show that you're being funny and know that you're using the oldest move in the book. But leave your arm there.
6. Your hand may just happen to fallen over a breast.
7. And unconsciously squeeze at a moment of comedy, tension or drama.
8. If something scary happens, grab your date's arm or leg.
9. Or if something funny happens.
10. Allow yourself to find things funnier or scarier than you would normally.
11. You can't talk, but you can whisper.
12. Whisper things like "that outfit would look good on you" or "I bet you'd deal with a bad guy the same way".
13. While whispering, your lips might accidentally touch your date's ear. Pretend it didn't happen and keep whispering.
14. Or acknowledge that it happened and just start kissing.

If at any point in this process your move is rebuffed, just say, "sorry, I get affectionate at the movies" and go back to being just friends. If they go to a movie with you again, you'll know you are in there. If they don't, maybe you'll move on and stop wasting your time with a hopeless unrequited passion.

Other resources:

• Video: How to go on a date to the Movies
• Advice: How to See a Sexy Movie and Not Have Sex After
• Wiki: How to Kiss
• Instructable: How to Kiss
• Podcast: First Kiss Tips for Christians

Kitty Blogging on Hiatus

I thought Duncan wanted to stay. But while I was watching TV upstairs, Zoom snuck in, softly called out to him and he zipped downstairs and into her arms. I discovered them outside waiting for a taxi only because I went to get myself a ginger beer and checked the door after I found a parcel on the staircase.

I tried to be graceful about it... if you love something set it free, if it comes back to you, blah, blah, blah...

2D has made his choice. At least Zoom left me someone else to keep me company at night. 2P (Pirate Pal) was in the parcel along with a bottle of wine. He's not the same, but he won't need pedicures and regular grooming.

I'm going to drink that wine now, I think. And maybe call in sick for tomorrow.

No Time for Blogging

2D insisted we lie on the couch and watch TV tonight and now he says it's bedtime. So, no update today.

I mentioned that Zoom is feeling a tad insecure about him. I get the impression he doesn't feel bad about that.

2D is sociable

Duncan Dogcat has been making new friends here. Poor Woodsy discovered that 2D is averse to orange fur on other people. Our little nymph had to use a certain herbal product to entice 2D to stay in her lap long enough for this photo.

Aggie and our canine friend also came by this evening. As you would expect, they all got along fine. After all this trash talk between Duncan and Coyote (not to mention their supporters), when it comes down to it, they treat each other with the professional courtesy you'd expect from a pair of predators who like having their chins tickled.

2D likes to demonstrate his pouncing ability on blue string. Particularly if trailed on the floor as I walk around the house. String dangled in the air? He would rather just sleep.

Metablogging the kitty-blogging

While we are over here alienating all of Zoom's lovely knitters and cat people with all our ESI self-referential wanking, I would like to direct folks to some other local cat blogging that warrants attention.

First and foremost: Bob. Once again, Bob has written an absolutely delightful piece, this time reflecting on cats and emotions. I just love the image of sweetiepie Bob "disciplining" his out-of-control cats.

Second, check out the fabulous Jo Stockton. Her cat is guest blogger, folks. The cat speaks.

Pantsing Duncan

So as the latest round of kittyblogging proceeds down its predictably cutesy path, and the kittyblog fans settle back into a presumptuous air of unquenchable smugness, I have pressing and urgent questions. First: When is that lousy Dwarf umm, my very good friend, going to invite me over? Second: Why is that lousy Dwarf umm, my very good friend, suddenly obsessed with cat grooming? Third: why is Zoom so confident that Duncan can take me out? Fourth: what's all this euphemistic crap about his underpants? Fifth: There is no fifth thing.

I believe these issues to be not unrelated. (You're welcome, double negative fans...) Here's what I'm thinkin': Zoom seems a teensy bit overconfident about Mr Donut's ability to take me, in an altercation that assuredly will have no connection at all with the Marquis of Queensberry.

This is because she knows he's got brass knuckles concealed somewhere in that mountainous hairball he wears. Without 'em, he's lunch. Or at least mini-donuts.

Now, I've never seen any fur bearing creature wear underpants in my life, so I'm guessing this is some kind of cute kittyblogger euphemism for really major shedding. And I bet the Short Guy hasn't gone on his unprecedented furline hygiene kick for nothing. It's Spring. Cat's gonna shed all over his cave. The more seriously pantsed Duncan becomes, the fewer illicit utensils he can hide. I also welcome the Dwarf's timely action to clip Mr. Donut's usual weapons. Although I have to say I've become a little disturbed by the Mini-Me direction the whole relationship is taking, and feel a timely intervention is due. By a good friend.

It'd be sooo cool if Shorty'd just invite me over for tea and crunchies. I've dropped hints, I keep checking my answering service and inbox, but so far nuthin'. What's with that?

2D is doing well

Did you know that Duncan likes to call himself 2D? Duncan Dogcat.

The pedicure went just fine. 2D wasn't into any of the soaking solutions I offered, so we went without.

He also decided to do his own filing.

Addicting

Ms Army Pants: You are obsessed!
Woodsy: No I am addicted.

Below is a quote from the book that I am reading, In the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction, by Gabor Maté.

“There are almost as many addictions as there are people. In Brahmajala Sutta, the spiritual master Gotama identifies many pleasures as potentially addictive.

…Some ascetics and Brahmins…remain addicted to attending such shows as dancing, singing, music, displays, recitations. Hand music, cymbals and drums, fairy shows…combats with elephants, buffaloes, bulls, rams;…

Gotama, known to us as Buddha, lived and taught about twenty-five hundred years ago in what are now Nepal and northern India. Today he might also include in his sermon: sugar, caffeine, talk show, gourmet cooking, music buying, right-or left-wing politics…”

I would like to add blogging to this list. But I can’t decide if I am addicted to blogging, or if I am addicted to my blogging?

Sorry Audrey

The people appear to have spoken.

1-handed kitty 'n' meta-blogging

so i m blogging wit 1 hand. because duncan is in my lap and he gets testy when both hands are on the keyboard.

he seems to like to have his neck fur scratched and when his chin is rubbed he gets real dopey.

when he gets that way or falls asleep i've been practising at getting him used to me holding his paws. why? just as i was about to leave with him on tuesday night, zoom said, oh, he could use a manicure. would you mind?

of course not, i said.

oh, good, she said, i've never had the nerve to give him one.

but enough about the cat. how about some meta-blogging...

• have you been following evey the former la canadienne who is now in a jar? she's a high school student. so her life often sucks. except her improv team is going to the nationals! the fricking nationals! congratulations evey and her team! even duncan thinks it's impressive and i think it's great she's bringing the blogosphere along 4 the ride.

damn either duncan better get that manicure or i better put on a thicker shirt.

• over on peripheral vision Kate Wilhelm shows us how to get a controversy going on your blog: link to some artists who have opposite views on the artistic and social merit of one of their works and let them have at it.

i also need a wider lap. my right hand is supporting his head and it's going to cramp up soon. my hand. not his head.

• Reduction on Myspace is putting 50 small, pamphlet sized artworks, carefully printed by hand from one block of wood on OC Transpo buses around Ottawa. did anybody get 1?
  

he's asleep now. he's got the cutest little snore. not like mine. there are imperial marches based on my snoring. duncan's snoring would barely rate a lullaby.

Duncan the Dog Cat is Here!

You may have already seen the news on Zoom's blog. It is true. Duncan is staying with me for a week. What can I tell you? When the Celebrity Cats' bloggers leave town, the Celebrity Cats want to stay with me.

Duncan is a boy cat and I'm told he has boy parts. So the gender issues are straightforward. I am happy to report that he did not sleep on my head last night and he did not try to hop in the shower with me.

However, I am prepared for there to be some weirdness: (1) He brought a ziploc bag full of q-tips with him; and (2) Zoom said that she read somewhere on the internet that Norwegian Forest cats like Duncan "take off their long underwear in the spring." Zoom also said that she wants to be around to see this. I am encouraging Duncan to wait until Zoom is back because I don't want to see him take off his underwear. I've got the thermostat set to 15° C and I say things to him like "look at all that snow out there."

Something I don't understand is how Zoom manages to do any blogging from her house. This is the first five minutes that Duncan has allowed me since he got here. I'm either petting him or listening to him whine about me not petting him.