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Archive for April, 2009

I am so completely awash with thoughts as I start this post that finding a jumping-of point is gluing my fingers to my keyboard as my brain attempts to sort out a beginning, a middle and an end.

Ah … screw it … Dive, dive …

First, an admission: I have never seen an “Idol” show. Not since Arthur Godfrey’s Amateur Hour have I watched hopeful performers set themselves up on television to take the hits that standing metaphorically naked in front of the world can bring. I know who Simon Cowell is only because I own the Shrek DVD that has him as a special feature, but have no idea who others are who sit in judgement.

So …

I’m confused.

Postings on facebook today included many people linking to a vid from a program called “Britains Got Talent” … is there supposed to be an apostrophe there somewhere? … that shows a woman singing.

The “hook” here seems to be that she’s not a babe. Susan Boyle is a 47-year-old rather plain looking person from Scotland who has obviously managed to avoid being styled. She has bushy eyebrows, a double chin and a bit of extra weight under her matronly dress. Her hair is thinning, her accent billboards her roots, and her manner, although confident enough considering the cameras and the crowd, hints of self-deprication.

Since this is a program featuring talent, not a beauty pageant, I am having a hard time understanding why eyes are rolling in the audience and judges barely cover smirks as she introduces herself … much less the stunned reaction when she opens her mouth and belts out a perfect version of the difficult “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Miserables.

Since when did someone have to look pretty … in some canned-for-mass- consumption sort of way … to sing beautifully?

Since the advent of music vids, perhaps? Are we no longer able to hear the magic without seeing the performer, and the explanation of just exactly what it is we’re listening to?

Many are referring to this moment in British TV as inspirational. Why? Because a dowdy lass of some years can sing?

Sorry, but I just find the shock and awe of it all disturbing.

Congratulations, Susan Boyle. You were beautiful before you opened your mouth.

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_45664954_singer_wiki226iYou’ve got to hand it to people who come up with scams and hoaxes … they truly grasp the human condition, then run with it, frequently all the way to the bank.

Imagination is essential, of course, as coming up with some of the ideas that end up flying takes a mind unfettered by the limits of reality and common sense, and to someone like me who writes fiction when time allows that’s bloody impressive.

Here’s a recent example of the creativity of scam artists at work, this time in Saudi Arabia:

Saudi police say they are investigating a hoax that has seen people rushing to buy old-fashioned sewing machines for up to $50,000.

The Singer sewing machines are said to contain traces of red mercury, a substance that may not exist.

But it is widely thought that it can be used to find treasure, ward off evil spirits or even make nuclear bombs.

Brilliant, heh?

I mean, really, this has it all … greed, ease of access, a bit of voodoo, even nuclear holocaust fercryinoutloud … and has not only cleared the way for the need to purchase new sewing machines, it’s even spawned a rash of thefts of these sturdy old war horses, thereby adding an element of high drama to the tale.

One of my favorite touches to this hoax has people in Madina, ” … holding mobile phones up to the machines, due to the belief that they could be used to detect the presence of red mercury, ” thereby allowing suckers to feel as though they have the inside track on the dupe loop.

Imagining the process that led up to this flurry of trade in sewing machines sets my mind racing like a basting stitch at full throttle … Hey, we just happen to have a few old Singers in the back room might have been a spark. Ignite that with a bit of red mercury and a bit of spin and Viola!, a hoax is born.

We had one going around these islands a few years ago that was astounding in its simplicity. Large wads of plain brown paper were being sold for big bucks on the promise that a mysterious liquid would be provided soon afterward that would reveal the useless piles to actually consist of … ta daaaa! … real US dollars!

None too few folks lined up to trade their Seychelles Rupees for piles of what was essentially wrapping paper for very small items.

How many of these wonders of creativity and gullibility occur in the world on a regular basis is unknown, as word only ever leaks out when the truth is revealed and people have to admit that they’ve been hoodwinked, and when the international press picks up the story they must feel, well, dumb as hell.

There are, of course, some scams of such magnitude and complexity that they fly for years and years, involving millions of dollars and billions of people. The UN comes to mind, as does one of my favorite books … “Another Roadside Attraction”.

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Back before Amazon was synonymous with online shopping, the word meant Girl Power writ big … please forego the temptation to put “shopping” and “girl power” together … where more than one breast was superfluous to need and women ran the show.

Turns out that on a tiny level this is still the case.

As this from today’s news reports, Amazonian ants have figured out that they don’t need any representatives of the male gender in their world.

No opposite sex, no sex.

There are advantages to life without sex, as Dr Himler explained.

“It avoids the energetic cost of producing males, and doubles the number of reproductive females produced each generation from 50% to 100% of the offspring.”

Don’t get me wrong here … I adore men, and sex is in the top one of my favorite recreational pastimes, but … lordy, lordy! … is there an “energetic cost”.

At the moment, I am up so steeped in male-induced drama and trauma from every direction … mine and that of so many friends … that the thought of an Amazonian world has some appeal.

There does seem to be a shift in this direction outside of antdom, as well, with songs like “I Kissed a Girl And I Liked It” sounding almost anthem-like as more women I know follow a trend to throw their hands up in horror at the thought of plighting their trough alongside that of some dude.

Our biological imperative may keep dangling an engorged carrot in front of us, but ending up with the shit end of the stick has taken a toll, so the lifestyle of Mycocepurus smithii … female ants cultivating asexually produced fungi farms … has a certain symmetry to it.

Imagining a world without men does make me sad when I think of missing out on all the guitar I get these days, that whiff of testosterone on the breeze I find so refreshing, the silhouette of shoulders, beefy hugs and such, but if I could take all the energy I have put into keeping those of the male gender in my life either happy or unhappy, depending on the agenda, and put it to other uses I could have cranked out as many novels as Tom Clancy, built a palace out of popsicle sticks, hiked the Atlas Mountains and cured the common cold.

What the hell, though. I have to admit to myself that ant Amazona is not my Utopia. I could no more live without men than I could survive on mushrooms.

Doomed. Doomed, I say …

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Filed under the “If I were in the USA” list of events I would absolutely NOT miss …

The Adoption Institute’s annual “Taste of Spring” benefit, set for the 14th of May in New York City.

Not only does the Institute provide vital resources, research every aspect of the adoption world and experience, throw their mighty support behind valiant efforts for reform and education and work tirelessly for a better world for children and families therefore earning my eager support, I would give a whole heck of a lot to share space with their director, my personal hero and … dare I say it? … good friend, the amazing Adam Pertman.

Oh, yeah … and Hugh Jackman will be there, too.

The event itself will be a culinary delight, with some of the best restaurants in Manhattan participating.

So … make me jealous as hell and go!

You can download the invite here.

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Way back when, when my big kids were little, I opted out of the whole Bunny thing at Easter. The late-night visitor at our house ladened with chocolate was, instead, the Easter Ape.

Working as I did at the time with various non-human primates that charmed me daily … and even being peed at and threatened repeatedly by one perpetually pissed off Golden Bellied Mangaby (RIP, Pinot) didn’t tarnish the experience … certainly put the color in my jellybeans, so the substitution made perfect sense.

After all, an orang utan nest looks much more like the contents of an Easter basket than anything a rabbit would leave behind.

Imagine my delight, then, when this story popped up at the tail end of my Easter weekend!

A hitherto unknown population of orangutans numbering perhaps 1-2,000 has been found on the island of Borneo, conservation researchers say.

What a gift!

Not that 1,200 individuals will be enough to resurrect an entire species from the threat of extinction, but if this population is genetically diverse, it sure won’t hurt.

Finding more than 200 night nests in a few kilometers of forest has researchers speculating that this might be, ” … a kind of orangutan refugee camp – with several groups moving into the same area following widespread forest fires.”

That is not only worrying, but extremely interesting, as orangs are solitary living beings by nature and any version of communal congregating is very unusual outside the captive population that is forced to adjust to constant proximity of others.

This says a lot about the adaptability of these great apes. If, indeed, it is the case that in times of habitat loss and the tremendous stress that creates orang utans are able to forgo their reclusive wanderings, gather together and coexist in a self-made “community” without artificial prompts like reintroduction of captives into the population or feeding stations, their resourcefulness should be noted and admired.

Now, if the humans around will just leave them alone, stop destroying the forests for the environmental and eventual economic nightmare of monoculture and develop at least a fraction of the good sense the apes have … well, I for one will be happy to leave Easter to the rabbits.

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Happy Easter

Happy Easter!!!!

Happy Easter!!!!

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This story from the BBC about eyes caught mine today.

Partially sighted and registered blind people can be taught to read and see faces again using the undamaged parts of their eyes, say experts.

Very interesting, especially to me since every eye examination I have reveals to yet another eye guy that I have a “blind spot” in my macula.

This isn’t anything I notice on a day-to-day basis, but under the conditions of the examination it becomes glaringly apparent … a honkin’ big hole in the screen on which my vision is projected.

No idea if I was born this way or sustained some injury I don’t recall, but I have, apparently, lived with this defect for a very long time.

As the BBC article points out, compensation occurs … the brain fills in the gap to the point that I perceive nothing of what I don’t see, or, as the title puts it: Eye ‘compensates for blind spot’.

Now … if this could just translate from literal blind spots to those more figurative.

I know I have a few, and although I’m happy enough with the blind spots I have when it comes to my kids, I could use some blending of the edges in other areas.
How convenient would it be if my brain could fill in the gaps I don’t quite grasp?

Math has always been an issue for me no matter how much time and effort I’ve focused toward getting a handle on formulas and equations and such, and it would be a big help if the bit of my head that doesn’t see the connections could have some other bit take up the slack.

Taking this a step further, I’m thinking the world would be a better place if, as with vision, compassion deficits … blind spots in tolerance … got the same treatment.

Imagine if this amazing biology we’re evolving were to develop a capacity to fill emptiness with empathy and apathy with appreciation.

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With thanks to all who filled in the PP survey, and who asked for more about my kids here … here’s a vid I put together in tribute to the beauty and sweetness of Cj … my youngest, my baby, my darling little girl.

Enjoy!

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Please click here to fill out a few little boxes that may lead me out of some of my cluelessness …

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Throw a girl a bone … ?

Anyone in doubt about the close relationship between chimpanzees and humans need only take a look at this bit of the BBC.

Chimpanzees enter into “deals” whereby they exchange meat for sex, according to researchers.

“By sharing [meat], the males increase the number of times they mate, and the females increase their intake of calories,” said Dr Gomes.

“What’s amazing is that if a male shares with a particular female, he doubles the number of times he copulates with her, which is likely to increase the probability of fertilising that female.”

Having observed chimps up close and personal for years, this comes as no surprise to me.

Many behaviors, including what could be called dating rituals, run obvious parallels between humans and chimps, so offerings akin to “Wanna join me for dinner, Babe?” are no less expected than clever innovations that make life easier or rival gang warfare.

For all our self-aggrandizment, our inclination to think ourselves smooth and sophisticated, lofty, above the baser instincts of “lesser” animals, when it comes down to it, we, too, are all about sex.

Not that we’re any more aware of what drives us than are the chimps … after all they, too, may attribute more to their motivation than a simple poke in the bush … but when push comes to shove, so much of our need to be loved, our desire for the perfect partner, even our facebook flirting facryinoutloud, arises from ancient genetic coding that hardwires us.

Basically it boils down to males needing to pass along their genetic material and females needing get something out of the deal that will allow them to reproduce; the rest is fluff.

Hail to the fluff, though, heh? A glass of Merlot is a nice touch …

By the way, the average copulation time for a male chimp is around 29 seconds, so the premature ejaculation issue I wrote about yesterday doesn’t seem to translate species to species. (Females are known to go 40 to 50 times a day, though, but they do save it up all month … )

Male orang utans, however, copulate much longer, even up to an hour or more. An aside: orang utans are only one of two primates that rape; humans being the other.

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