The 5% solution

After the consistently, continuously crappy weather we had up until a couple of weeks ago, there was some noise on the media about overbreeding mosquitoes. And I have come up with a Most Satisfactory Answer.

Everybody should stay unspeakably drunk all the time. That way, any mosquitoes who bite people will die of alcohol poisoning before they have a chance to reproduce. If any do survive long enough to lay eggs, the larvae will be afflicted with Larval Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (LASD) and probably won't make it, since mosquitoes, lacking opposable thumbs, have never developed the technology necessary to support special-needs larvae. And if they do live, they won't be able to bite for themselves and will have to go on blood stamps.

I wouldn't be surprised if Obama or the UN is, even now, creating a new bureaucracy for this very purpose.

Death and taxes

Why, O why are we making such an overweening fuss about the HST, a perfectly sensible consumption tax, levied only on disposable income, and only at the point of disposal thereof? If you don't want to pay HST, stay away from the mall. Drive less. Buy second-hand. Grow food. Shouldn't we be doing all those things anyway?

And why, O why do we silently suck up an ever-increasing "carbon" tax, a cash cow based on fraud, junk science, and the irresistible inclination of government to take shameless advantage of the profound gullibility of a public softened up by alarmist propaganda? Since carbon is the basis of all life, those who think it's bad can eliminate their guilt by offing themselves. And the rest of us are now being TAXED FOR EXHALING. Welcome to BC. How long can you hold your breath?

"Stupid" bomb

One small carelessness or stupidity can touch off a chain reaction of untoward events, culminating in endless inconvenience and frustration. This is a trite statement, and easily dismissed, until you're actually at the frustration end of things. A small package, sent via Fedex, failed to appear at my door last week. After several emails back and forth, we discovered the shipper had incorrectly entered the address: 2149 instead of 2140. Perfectly understandable, since the two digits are side-by-side on the keyboard. However, the good folks at 2149 have denied all knowledge of said package and claim never to have received it. And the fallout: my homestay student is out several hundred dollars and doesn't have her tickets to the NBA game she was planning to see when she travels to New York on spring break.

All because somebody hit a wrong key and didn't bother to proofread.

Reminds me of an old chant in House-That-Jack-Built style:

For the want of a nail the shoe was lost,
For the want of a shoe the horse was lost,
...blah, blah, blah...the kingdom was lost,
And all for want of a horseshoe nail.

Sigh.

Photeugenic

Some people photograph well. I am not one of them. I had every intention of blowing off the new church photo directory, but the secretary called in her SWAT team and I was taken by the arm (resistance is futile, remember) and dragged over to the sign-up sheet. So I thought I'd be a good sport and go along. Mis. Take. Did my best imitation of a pleasant, friendly smile for the camera, and the result looked like Don Knotts playing an axe murderer. How any human face can succeed in resembling both a hamster and a bullfrog at the same time is beyond me. I was particularly taken aback by the maniacal eyes. Horrifying. I was, once again, forcibly reminded of the reason for my aversion to being photographed. Years ago I would have flung myself onto my bed and sobbed for hours, but having discovered that said hours of sobbing do nothing to enhance an appearance that already qualifies as objectionable, I gave that up. I did feel vaguely nauseous for a while, though. I'm grateful that none of my kids got visited by the Ugly Fairy in their cradles.

And so the challenge is once again before me, of rebuilding my shattered self-image and, to make it resilient, basing it not on what I or others see with eyes, but what God sees. And what might that be? "Beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." Not only that, but "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised."

Works for me.

Green eggs on face

Just in case you're still wondering about so-called "climate change," there's an informative recap of the whole sordid business here:

http://www.americanthinker.com/2010/02/ipcc_international_pack_of_cli.html

What's shocking to me is seeing people like Dr Suzuki, who was once a scientist and should therefore have retained some small regard for facts, still desperately clinging to the AGW story in the face of all the revelations of rank stupidity and downright fraud. He must have been making very good money off it all along. Makes me wonder who's been signing his paycheques. Could it be some of the same people who bankrolled Obama's affirmative-action career through Harvard and the US Senate to the White House? There's an eerie similarity in the passion both have for pulling a lot of wool over many eyes, not to mention their willingness to let truth fall away in the service of ideology.

A rose: such a clatter

Heard The Last Rose Of Summer on Radio Swiss Classic the other day (this being the radio station I happily discovered when the CBC acquired a permanent case of dysentery a little over a year ago). I remember being at the piano while an aging mezzo demolished that one. Renee Fleming, with orchestra, was much more palatable. However, I object strenuously to the lyrics, the gist of which is, that the poet sees a rose blooming alone on the bush after all the others are dead, and to save it from being lonely, he rips it apart and throws it down. This horrifies me. Suppose that rose wanted to bloom by itself, without any competition? Suppose it had been saving itself all summer long, waiting for just the right moment to be the final crowning glory of the blooming season - and along comes this gumbooted halfwit who trashes it, then goes and makes flimsy excuses on paper. A horrific and senseless act, justified in the mind of the perpetrator.

Come to think of it, that sounds like most of humanity.

Speculation and implications

After much careful research, including but not limited to the invention and manipulation of data, I have succeeded in reconstructing a typical day in the life of an acolyte in the Temple of Climate Change. He begins early, rising with the sun, although not paying any particular attention to it, because, after all, the sun never changes, and he knows for a fact that nothing about the sun could possibly affect climatic conditions on Earth. He gathers with other devotees before the graven image of Mike Mann nailed to a hockey stick, and they spend an hour or so chanting, "The science is settled. The science is settled." After a meal of grass and rainwater (because he believes in "eating locally" and nothing else grows here at this time of year), he sits down at his computer and plays with temperature graphs, flattening bumps and raising dips with the fervour and conviction of an Old Testament prophet ("Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low"). Having coaxed all his raw data to resemble the Divine Hockey Stick, he then forwards it to a select group of cronies for that process of dedicated and thorough rubber-stamping known as "peer review," then it's off to the useful idiots of the mainstream media, who will unquestioningly publish it with headlines including such hot-button words as "crisis," "urgent," and "emergency." Should anyone have the temerity to challenge him on the validity of his work, or to suggest - horrors! - that it may be somewhat lacking in such minutiae as truth, fact, or reality, he simply calls them nasty names and reverts to chanting his mantra: "The science is settled," along with its variants: "The evidence is overwhelming" and "Thousands of scientists agree..." - knowing that scientific fact is, of course, established by consensus.

After a long day of such arduous toil, he can relax, watch the weather forecast ("record cold") and possibly toy with his latest grant proposal, although this is a mere formality, since the Temple clearly has the UN in its back pocket, along with such credulous nincompoops as the President of the United States, as well as the tinpot dictators of sub-Saharan Africa, who don't give a flying poop about the climate, or their people; they just want our money and this seems like a remarkably easy way to get it. (Is anyone gullible enough to believe that Mugabe, for instance, is going to spend money on infrastructure? Give me a break...)

What makes me laugh, albeit sadly, is that, having thrown out God and replaced Him with science, we then foolishly expect our new idols to exhibit the same integrity and righteousness as the God of the Bible. Why should scientists be any less fallible than politicians, CEOs, cult leaders, or used-car salesmen? We routinely expect lying and cheating from these others; why are we so shocked when scientists do it, too? What happens when the academic community, the repository of vast amounts of specialized knowledge which the rest of us lack, turns to forwarding a totalitarian ideology?