War & Peace

After wanting to read it for years, wishing I had already read it, and generally just putting it off, I'm finally reading Tolstoy's War & Peace. I'll let you know how it goes.

Somebody...

...on the west coast has severely pissed off the weather gods. I'm not sure who or how, but sacrifices may be required to set things right. First it was the torrential rains and turbidity, then the arctic front with it's snow, ice, and sub-zero temperatures. Now it's the wind. We've been hit by at least 3 windstorms this week and as far as I know there are more on the way. As I lay in bed last night listening to the wind and rain pound against my windows, I wasn't entirely sure that my home was going to make it through the night. The neighbour of a friend of mine had their skylight blown off and she herself lost her eaves. There were many downed trees this morning and plenty of other damage including 180 000 or so homes without hydro. I have two friends who are in Vietnam right now, worried about a typhoon that may or may not be touching down. Forget that. They should be happy they're not here. Too bad when they come back they are going to find that their building has blown away.

Santaweb

I was at the post office today buying stamps to mail all of my Christmas cards, when the lady in front of me in the line-up asked the clerk whether sending a letter to Santa required national or international postage. It isn't something I'd given much thought to as when I was young enough to write to Santa Claus, postage was not one of my concerns, and then when postage did become one of my concerns, I was too old to write to Santa. The answer is national which I strongly agree with as it shows Canada Post is exerting Canada's territorial claims to the arctic. But I digress. Back at the office I told my boss about it and she asked, "where do letters to Santa go?" I'm not really sure where they end up, but according to the Canada Post website they are answered by volunteer elves in a number of languages. In searching, I also found this. Santa's online now. Why bother with paper and post office when you can e-mail him direct?

Fire #2 or The Lights Are On But...

I have a friend who reads my blog but is afraid to comment on it. She is intimidated by my erudition. She told me of a comment she wanted to make on my fire entry about how a gas fire can't replace the smell of a real wood fire. Which it can't. But it got me thinking...

The gas fire place looks nice, even provides some warmth but it is a shadow of a proper wood fire place or pit. There are flames, but there isn't the smell of wood smoke, the crackle of the fire, the hiss of sap from the logs hitting the flames, the blaze of heat, the red hot coals, the smoke in your face and so on. It doesn't end with fire of course; It seems this is the direction our entire culture has been heading for quite some time now. It is the prevalence of image over substance. How many vacuous starlets traipsing their way through the tabloids, how many poorly-written, meaningless best sellers, how many drivel-filled Hollywood blockbusters, how many schmaltzy sugary sweet pop songs, how many repetitive formulaic "reality" shows, and so on and so forth, until people say enough is enough, I'd like a little meat with my gravy. I realise that there are more substantial cultural products out there and also that there is a place for escapism, but when the dominant cultural entertainments are devoid of depth how long will it be until the culture itself lacks any meaning? Or are we already there? I have been accused of snobbery before and I must say I embrace the label somewhat. Why? Because I think we can all aspire to something better.

Mary Poppins!

I always thought there was something creepy about that woman.

Lock Up Your Camels!

A Christmas party at a riding school in Ireland was postponed after a camel that was part of Santa's Magical Animal Kingdom show got out of his pen, which had been left open. While the staff were getting ready for the party, Gus, the camel, got loose, ate 200 mince pies and drank 6 cans of Guinness. By all reports, Gus is fine. And why shouldn't he be? Guinness is goodness.

Story

Fire!

I've been thinking about fire recently, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I heard a man on the radio a few weeks back talking about his inability to sleep and he suggested that perhaps it was ingrained, genetic even. His thought was that he was somehow programmed to be the guy who would stay up all night and watch the fire. My own inability to sleep made that resonate with me. Maybe I'm just not supposed to be sleeping at night; perhaps I too am the guy who should be up all night making sure the fire doesn't burn out, then when daylight comes, I go and sleep in a cave. The second reason is that I've just moved into a new home. It has a fireplace. Our ancestors survival was very much predicated on their ability to control and maintain fire...for warmth, cooking, light, protection, and so forth. This was the case well into the last century before the advent of electric or gas heating and is still the case for much of the world. But in our modern, western society, not so. Fire is now for many of us a luxury. And a luxury that doesn't even require the skill of fire building at that. In my new place, I turn the fire on by the flick of a light switch. It's all about atmosphere. Is this what has become of homo sapiens struggle for survival? I guess we won. I'm not really complaining, but I'd be lying if I said that there isn't a part of me that longs for that other way.