Be sure and come back later with your popcorn and pie because today is Saturday at the Roxy.
Ps. Asia and Roy, I had insanely over-buttered popcorn last night instead, although Mr. Lee was willing to do an emergency pie run at 8 pm. I am happy to report that the magic worked! This morning I'm brimming over with love again; well at least for today all the idiots get a pass. After all, it's Saturday. Pie for everybody.
Warning. I'm on a rant, talking into the gale here. I'm sick of nursing this leg. It hurts. Yes, it's getting better. Yes, I was the star at the gym again today but it's getting old. I want my leg back. I'm sick of hobbling around on the cane and crutches. I'm sick of being in the house all the time. I'm sick of being grateful because I'm not in war zone. What kind of touchstone is that anyway? Just be glad I'm not beating you today? Fuck that. And yes, I'm sick of the wars that the crazy, wingnut, authoritarian, fundamentalists are waging upon us all. Who cares what label they give themselves, christian, muslim, jew, conservative or whathefuckever, I'm sick of em all.
And no, I don't feel better for ranting. I sick of humans in general. All this talk about human rights, humankind, humanity, human life. I'm sick of humans taking the center stage on every fucking thing. Human history, human needs, human achievements, human casualties. I’m sick of human exploitation of all the other sentient beings residing on this planet. I’m sick of the gut wrenching cruelty inflicted on animals round the clock, year in and year out. I’m sick of so-called decent people turning a blind eye to the exploitation, torture and murder of peaceful species for food, for clothing, for medicine. For fun. For the hell of it. Because they can. On and on and on ... all humans all the time. Religions that are strictly about humans and god, humans and their fucking fantasies of salvation. And that's another thing. Salvation is a crock a shit. It rubberstamps more atrocious behavior than everything else combined. Do it for Jesus. Praise Allah. They all make me sick. You all make me sick. Piss off. Your gods suck. They are war masks. Nothing more. There may be a god, but it ain’t what you think, mother fuckers.
It's 3:30 pm in Alaska now and the grizzlies and sea gulls are finally out in force while a volcanic cinder cone steams and glows in the distance. I just watched a video of a huge, battle scarred bear snag a giant fish out the rapids and carry it to shore as another bear moved quickly out of the way. Rules of the game. But watching the doomed fish struggle for life reminded me that the bear is enjoying more than a sushi and caviar lunch. It's a blunt look at life in the food chain. We're all food for somebody and I don't fault the bear for his way of life but as a human I abhor the cruelty our of farm factory system and haven't eaten meat for decades. I fall short of my own goal though. I do eat fish, eggs and dairy and kind of hate myself for it. We did switch to cage-free eggs a couple of years ago, but I'm not strict about it. I eat in restaurants and I know they don't include compassion in their bottom line.
But it was another good day for the bears and most of the fish swimming upstream to spawn their young and die.
I was the star of the gym at physical therapy yesterday. I better well be. I did my exercises at home, pushed into the pain, and want the damn credit even if it was done in fear of Dave the Therapist JUMPING on my knee if it doesn't improve pronto. It's not exactly pronto, but my knee is improving.
I just checked the Alaska bear cam but they are no where to be seen. The sea gulls aren't even up yet. The cam operates from 5am to 11pm Alaska Standard Time but the website notes that the best time to watch the bears fish is between 1 and 5. I've gotten kind of hooked on bear watching. I guess it's something of a replacement for my cockroaches as it's another floating world that doesn't know or give a damn about us oh-so-complicated humans and our hel-bent-rush towards, not only self-destruction, but global undoing. Watching the bears fish as they have always done temporarily soothes my feverish mind and aching soul.
The Bird Park is all abuzz today over the Thursday Special, crumbled saltines. I found a few stale crackers tucked away in a bag this morning and put them out. Big hit!
I've had a long standing working idea of the word "chicken hawk" but never read a definition of the term until today when I stumbled on Glenn Greenwald's (Unclamed Territory) article ,"What makes someone a chicken hawk"? It's a much used and often misunderstood term but, even if you already, positively know exactly what it means, I think the article is still worth a read. I've included a couple of paragraphs below and found a nice image at to help illustrate the idea.
GEORGE BUSH - CHICKENSHIT LIAR LYING US INTO AN UNWINNABLE WAR photo: FireDogLake
"A "chicken hawk" is one who strikes the pose of a warrior, who imputes the personal courage of a soldier in combat to themselves by virtue of the fact that they are in favor of sending that soldier off to war, or who parades around with the pretense of personal courage and resolve while assuming none of the risks. And a "chicken hawk" will, conversely, attempt to depict those who oppose such wars as being weak, spineless and cowardly even though the war opponents are not seeking to avoid any personal risk to themselves, but instead, are arguing against subjecting their fellow citizens to what they perceive are unnecessary dangers." ~ Glenn Greenwald
I've got the National Geographic grizzly cam open in another window and the headphones on so my head if filled with the roar of a wild Alaskan river and from the corner of my right eye I can see giant bears fishing its rapids. As usual there are plenty of seagulls hanging around on clean-up detail. It kind of surprises me that the bears don't swipe at them, especially when the birds crowd within inches while they strip a freshly killed fish, but I guess it's ancient bear wisdom that seagulls are quick and not worth the effort. A bald eagle is also on the river today and that does seem to bother the bears. No doubt the rap on eagles is that they are pushy bastards you have to keep an eye on. The grizzlies will be at the river all day, just like yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and how many more years and centuries of yesterdays before that, deep in ice water, amid the swirling gulls, eyes trained on the rapids, occasionally lunging into the swill and coming up with a fish.
In the corner of my left eye it's another scene, the Bird Park. Mr. Lee put the off-road trailer out there, the one he got in Idaho a couple of weeks ago and the birds here have claimed its shadow for themselves. They are there for hours nibbling in the grass, taking quick forays into the high desert sun for a drink or a dip in one of the baths. Periodically someone arches their wings to get a little air under their feathers. I'm sure it's hot in those down vests. I scattered bits of goodies in the weeds and the few birds not chilling in the hot shade are hopping through the bramble looking for them. The house special today was a left over fish stick from last night's dinner. Yum!
Oops, a bear just grabbed a huge fish and is casually stripping it as a crow looks on longingly. He hops towards the bear, then jumps away but can't get his eyes off the feast. The bear is huge with a big, sagging belly. The crow is getting bolder and, at the same time defending his territory, running at sea gulls that land nearby but you can see all this yourself, that is if it's between 1 and 5 pm Alaska time during the salmon run.
I graduated to a crutch the other day and started physical therapy for my knee. My god! Until now, I have completely pampered it but the therapist showed no mercy. He gave me one week to straighten it out myself. After that, he promised to straighten it for me. Shit. The first day and I was already yelling in pain. He is a nice guy though in spite of the torture but you can believe I'm doing the exercises he gave me. I don't want my poor knee straightened for me. Plus, I've got to get it straight or I'll walk with a damn limp the rest of my life.
A magpie who was here this morning just showed up again, this time with a friend. I recognize him because of the distinguishing little patch of gray feathers on his shoulders, but faster than I can write it, they're gone. It's slim pickings around here in the afternoon.
YouTube: Bird Park Afternoon - 00:06 seconds
So that's it. A lazy afternoon rambling. Nothing more. It's a quiet day here in Nevada. The quail will be by soon. They prefer visiting in the afternoon but, although I'm sure Bush has done plenty of things since I last checked that I could rage about, I just had a lovely baked potato with soy sour cream and salad and am feeling pretty mellow, like a bear after a good day at the river. At the moment, the webcam is doing a close-up of that same bear with the sagging belly. She has another fish. Before that they did a close-up of a grizzly snoozing on the rive bank. Seems the bears have had a good day too.
I did just finish an excellent book, Crashing the Gates, but I'll save the details for another time. It's worth a post of its own.
I've got the National Geographic grizzly cam open in another window and the headphones on so my head if filled with the roar of a wild Alaskan river and from the corner of my right eye I can see giant bears fishing its rapids. As usual there are plenty of seagulls hanging around on clean-up detail. It kind of surprises me that the bears don't swipe at them, especially when the birds crowd within inches while they strip a freshly killed fish, but I guess it's ancient bear wisdom that seagulls are quick and not worth the effort. A bald eagle is also on the river today and that does seem to bother the bears. No doubt the rap on eagles is that they are pushy bastards you have to keep an eye on. The grizzlies will be at the river all day, just like yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and how many more years and centuries of yesterdays before that, deep in ice water, amid the swirling gulls, eyes trained on the rapids, occasionally lunging into the swill and coming up with a fish.
