Food Circulatory System

Once upon a time Earth had no @$$holes. Well of course that’s true before life began on Earth. But it’s also true after multi cellular life had started on Earth. That time has gone now (obviously). What was responsible for this golden age? Why, the food circulatory system, of course, was literally responsible for there being no @$$holes.

That’s right. Food was circulated inside early life and eventually left again, out of the same mouth that took it in. I am unsure whether it just went straight down and sort of left by a “puking” mechanism, or if the digestive system went in a circle with the end of the circle being the same mouth that had eaten the food.

Anyhow it took life a long time to evolve the @$$hole from the food circulatory system so there was a golden age without @$$holes.

I bet you’re thinking that mmm mmm, creatures with the food circulatory system got to taste their food at the start and the end of the digestive process. Okay, perhaps this was a problem. You would need taste buds in your mouth to discern good food from poisonous food. Perhaps you could find a food whose taste was palatable on the way in and the way out. The only thing I can think of is very hot, spicy food. You know, the kind of pepper that burns on the way in and on the way out. And that would have been the diet of those with a food circulatory system.

But evolution just changes things. Sometimes these changes make the creatures more competitive. But other times it didn’t. There is nothing that says the food circulatory system was inferior. So aliens may never have changed from the food circulatory system. So they might call us the @$$holes from sector 8G. For both the insults we hurl at each other and the reality of our present digestive system.

Indeed these aliens may be inspecting the earth right now. In some circles it is well known that aliens like to do a lot of anal probing. Now we know why. They are most curious of those parts of the body they don’t have. Maybe they consider it a superior digestive system and wish to genetically engineer their own @$$holes just to compete with humans. Or maybe they are just curious.

Maybe they watch us and see how we kill off so much life that we don’t care about. Or maybe they see us stretching our biosphere to the max with climate change. Maybe they see how we still kill each other for war, imagined slights, or whatever reason. Maybe they think we are @$$holes by our own definition. A whole planet of @$$holes. Maybe they will ban contact because of this. Of course they don’t want to give us superior technology because we’ve found too many ways to kill with the technology we already have. Maybe we have become that planet of @$$holes.

And as with any @$$holes there might be quite a mess to clean up.

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More Pain, More Gain?

We’ve all heard the expression “no pain, no gain”. This is especially thrown around by weightlifters who like a little pain with their workouts as it usually means they will gain some muscle when their body can repair things.

But does more pain mean more gain? Well, aging means encountering more pain. And generally the oldest have encountered the most pain. In another general way, aging usually means that more wisdom is encountered along the way and that the older you are, the wiser you are. So more pain might mean more gain.

What about childbirth? That is supposed to be a universally painful experience for women. Do women become smarter than men because of it? That doesn’t have an obvious answer. Maybe they become more emotionally intelligent because of the birth. I’ve heard it said that women bond more with their children than men do. This might be their newfound emotional intelligence at work.

Childbirth also brings up painkillers. Do women that use an epidural for childbirth, become less emotionally intelligent than their sisters who had a more natural childbirth? That doesn’t seem to be the case, but it is interesting to think about.

And really doesn’t too much pain mean less gain? I’m talking about the nasty effects that go under the name post traumatic stress disorder. Much therapy is needed whenever PTSD comes into play. And all this therapy manages at best is to come close to your original baseline. So there is such a thing as too much pain for gain.

This might explain why those who seek pain aren’t necessarily doing the best. We’ve all heard of S&M play and this might explain why the participants are not doing better than the rest of us. So again there is a disconnect when there is too much pain involved.

But is it possible to endure just enough pain, on a regular basis, to keep on improving?

I would like to offer up James Bond as an example. Like all spies, the risk of torture is always around. And Bond has been captured a lot. Which means he has been tortured a lot for the information he holds. Since this pain hasn’t led to obvious PTSD, I think he can be held out as an example. But what has been the gain for Bond?

It’s obvious that he has become almost superhuman. He has endured ridiculous chases and fights that would defeat a lesser man and yet he still keeps going. He has figured out ways to bring down the most carefully hatched plans of the greatest villains. Really, he is a minor superhero.

So, within reason, I think more pain means more gain.

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The Underground Railroad

“Uncle Ron,” said 7 year old Ivy, “Do you know what the Underground Railroad was?”

“You mean is. It still exists but doesn’t go by it’s formal name anymore.”

“Quit it Uncle Ron. My teacher said it no longer exists. Since they stopped slavery.”

“Oh it does exist. In many cities. Perhaps you know it by it’s slang name: the Subway.”

“You’re making things up!”

“Am not. A subway is an underground railroad. By definition.”

The Underground Railroad. For escaping slaves.”

Uncle Ron screwed up his face for a moment before beginning again.

“I see. So you think that slavery no longer exists. Can you explain to me what a farmers market is?”

“That’s where farmers sell the food they’ve grown. A farmer’s market.”

“No. I said farmers market. Without the apostrophe. That’s the place where they sell farmers. Haven’t you heard that farmers work for peanuts? Well they literally do. They grow peanuts to feed themselves and the ones that are left over are sold in grocery stores. The grocery conglomerates get the money.”

“No!” Exclaimed Ivy quite sure of herself.

“Where do you think the government goes when they’ve got a bone to pick with Vietnam or North Korea or Nazi Germany?”

“I don’t know.” said Ivy.

“They go to the general store to buy a general. And the really good generals cost a lot of money. That’s why countries usually end up in debt after a war. They spent so much money on generals.”

“I don’t think that a general store exists.” said Ivy.

“Well they used to. That’s something else your teacher could teach you. Then there’s the smallest market of all. The Flea market. Do you know what they sell there?

“They don’t sell fleas. And you can’t make fleas into slaves. They won’t understand.”

‘You’re right. They don’t sell fleas. They sell Flea. The bassist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. And they only sold him once. To his band. He was worth a lot of money. So much in fact that the owner of the Flea market went into retirement when Flea was sold.”

Ivy stood arms akimbo and then pointed at herself. “I’ve been to the flea market. A few times. It has a bunch of mini stores in a big building. No bassist.”

Uncle Ron laughed. “Well maybe I’m wrong about the flea market. But I’m right about the other two.”

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Perfect Pitch

“I want you two to hear my latest musical fave,” I said to Mr. And Mrs. Tunic.

I began playing Heat Above. Keyboards started the song. “It’s Greta Van Fleet. Their latest song. It doesn’t sound like Led Zeppelin but it’s good just the same.”

Drums came on and that led to guitars, where rather obviously, Mrs. Tunic’s face fell flat. Then she spoke, “I can’t listen to this music. It has screeching guitars.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked rather innocently.

“I have perfect pitch. Guitars are almost never tuned fully and completely. And even when they are, the strings have to be bent to change notes and that makes the notes off from perfect even further. It’s very irritating when you have perfect pitch like myself.”

Not knowing what to do with my music being insulted in this way, I just let the music play some more. I thought to myself if it’s that irritating she will just leave.

Mr Tunic spoke up. “And I have perfect time which is irritated by guitar music as well.”

“How so?” I asked, stunned that there are two afflictions that are irritated by the simple guitar.

“Guitarists seem to think that they strike the chord notes at the same time. But it’s not instantaneous. They may be correct at the first note hit, but the rest of the chord is off from the time of the song. This bothers me to no end. At least when music uses arpeggios, they bother to keep the time correct. Not so in strumming. It bothers me.”

It was at this point that I started to think about the third basic parameter of music, other than pitch and time.

“And my husband has perfect timing as well,” said Mrs, Tunic. “He knows when to back up his lady.” The pair then broke into a kiss.

I waited for them to finish then said. “And I have perfect volume.”

Mr. Tunic started, “That’s not a thi-”

“That’s where I slowly increase the volume of my music until it reaches that perfect volume that drives away pretentious A-holes.” I slowly turned up the music.

They took a minute to gauge what was going on. Then, “Fine, fine,” said the couple and left the room.

And that’s how I found the perfect volume for Heat Above. Now I only play it at that volume.

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The Ontario Whale

Take a look at this drawing of Ontario. Doesn’t it look a bit like a whale. Lake Nipigon is it’s large almost cartoonish eye. Perhaps the western part looks too angular to be a head but squint your eyes and you will see it like I do. Then Southern Ontario becomes its tail.

It mostly makes sense, too. What other beast would you use to describe Ontario which has a full one third of all Canadians? It is the massive whale of the country. And the part that propels it along is the tail. And indeed Southern Ontario has the massive population to propel this rather large beast along.

Negative Nellies in Northern Ontario might say that Southern Ontario is the $#!++!&$+ part of the province. But that only strengthens the position of Ontario being a whale.

Naysayers might postulate that Ontario is just a fish with its tail being broad in the same plane as the head. I say it is a whale, just that it is twisted and accidentally looks like a fish from this 2-D view.

What about the Southwestern Ontario elephant? Well it is still partly visible, even in this primitive sketch. Perhaps the Ontario whale swallowed this smaller beast long ago and it is now mostly in its tail region.

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Practice Makes Perfect

We’ve all heard the saying practice makes perfect. And we all mulled on it for a few seconds and thought well that makes sense. But have we elevated the saying to be the prime directive of sports? Why no we haven’t. This site believes that we should.

Let’s take 5 pin bowling. A so called perfect game is 12 strikes in a row. Only 12 shots. Whereas a person that gets no strikes or spares takes 30 shots. Obviously the person with no strikes or spares gets the most practice. If practice makes perfect, we must somehow elevate them to be the winner. We can’t have the bowler with the least practice winning the game with their show off 450 points. So I suggest we do something different.

The person that gets the most shots is ranked highest. So thirty shots with no strikes or spares is the best. After that we decide by the most points. The best you can do with thirty shots is get 150 points. So after calculating the most shots, then the closest to 150 points, wins.

The bonus of this new bowling is finally I will be able to compete with some of the best bowlers at this game. I suspect they will grandstand and throw two gutter balls each frame so the third has to be a strike. I’ll just plod along and hope I can get close to 150.

With practice makes perfect being the prime directive, games with a goalkeeper like soccer and hockey might now be decided by which team gets the most shots on net. That ought to change things up. In fact they might as well get rid of their goalies. A warning though. The scores may now be almost as high as a basketball game. This has the added bonus of making soccer fun to watch.

Most racing will have to change. For example the fastest car in most races spends the least time on the track. In other words it gets the least practice. So races will have to change to winning by distance. Like Le Mans, the winner will be the car that goes the furthest in a set amount of time. In the case of Le Mans that is 24 hours.

The fastest sprinter in track and field might now measure the distance they run in 10 seconds. The high jump is one of the few sports that would not have to change much. You’d get 3 tries at each height regardless of succeeding. But you would only move on to a higher jump if you were successful in one of your three tries. The highest jumper would have more turns than any other.

Golf would have to do something similar. They would be given a set amount of shots and the player who got through the most holes would be the winner. This way not every golf course in the world would have 18 holes. Par for the course might be set at par for 18 holes. The best golfers might get 21 or 22 holes.

Obviously we have made a world where practice doesn’t make perfect. But if we elevate practice makes perfect to a prime directive of sports, things will change. Some changes will be for the better, like me being able to compete with the best bowlers. Some changes will just be weird.

But, if you’re sick of the same old games with the same outcomes, this new prime directive ought to keep even old pros on their toes.

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The Ontario-Wide Financial Paradox

Ontario-Wide Financial has been advertising on television quite often lately. Their ad doesn’t apply to me so mostly I tried to ignore it. But then I accidentally watched it with discernment one day.

They declare in the voice-over that they are not a bank. On the screen it says, “Ontario-Wide Financial isn’t a bank.” Then a line strokes out “isn’t a bank”. Which means that Ontario-Wide Financial is a bank. But the voice-over said they weren’t a bank.

Normally I would just have fun with this. I might say it is a modern day paradox whether Ontario-Wide Financial is a bank or not. Or that it is like Schrodinger’s cat which is simultaneously alive or dead until you collapse the wave function by opening the box. Or I might finally end with: usually a verbal agreement (you believing the voice-over) is superseded by the written contract (what you saw written out in front of you), so Ontario-Wide Financial is indeed a bank.

But this is Canada where there are specific laws for the rights and obligations of banks. For instance, when Toronto Dominion Bank bought out Canada Trust years ago, Canada Trust had a large real estate arm. TD Bank was obligated to sell this arm because banks, in Canada, aren’t allowed to own property. Indeed this goes so far that the brick and mortar branches of banks are leased from real estate companies.

Anyhow, Ontario-Wide Financial should have some explaining to do to the regulator of banks. Claiming they are a bank when in fact they will not act like one, is a serious offense. They should be advised to clear up this misunderstanding immediately. Maybe it was just a mistake by their marketing division. If so, I would expect a retraction of the ad posthaste. Or a new version without the strike through of “isn’t a bank”.

And maybe just maybe, if they don’t clean up the confusion of the ad, I could hire a lawyer and perhaps make some pocket change from them in court. Maybe their ad does apply to me after all. And it’s not a paradox at all – just a money making scheme for me.

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Tan and Other Racial Things I Didn’t Know Were Racial

It just came to me the other day that the colour tan is racial. I just thought it meant light brown as a colour. It never occurred to me that this name had anything to do with the concept of getting a tan. It is whites who get a light brown tan. Brown people get dark brown tans. So tan for a lot of people would be dark brown.

Then it occurred to me that band-aids are tan. In other words they are the colour of whites in the summer time. I can’t believe this racial colouring wasn’t used to sell more band-aids in the winter time, especially years ago to the white majority of the first world. They could have made a soft peach colour for these other band-aids so vain whites would have on hand twice as many band-aids.

Since band-aids have been outed as racial in colour, I think the band-aid companies should solely make colourful designs. They could become the stamps of the body with packages aimed at collectors of all stripes. People could tell each other why they chose certain band-aids. This on top of making the world more colourful.

So what am I to do now that I’ve lost the colour tan? I could call the colour camel, but is this just painting the colour of camels with one brush? Are there no other colours of camel in the world? You would think there would be if something as drastic as a hump can come singly or in a set of two. Tentatively I will use camel as my word.

I am reminded of being a kid and never having a clue of any ethnic differences or stereotypes. Yet I was unknowingly using slurs. Gypped was our word for ripped off. When you went back on a deal, you welshed on the deal. When you bartered someone down in price you chewed them down. When you loaned something and the other party said they thought you gave something forever, you were an Indian giver if you said you wanted it back.

These are all ethnic slurs and notice that they all have something to do with money. Don’t use these slurs. I have managed to avoid these for decades because first of all I did know all were slang and just stopped using slang at a certain point. Now I will knowingly avoid these words.

Here I happened to be reading a Far Side collection from 1989 called Wildlife Preserves. On page 93 Gary Larson uses the word gyp. I’m not sure if he realized it was a slur – the big clue that it is racist is the spelling.

I can just see certain members of the right wing saying “Don’t cancel Far Side for one slur.” In fact, some of these people might search out Wildlife Preserves in order to “save” it.

I just think it telling that the whitest of the white used to name negative transactions after ethnic groups. Usually when whites had more money. Were they like Trump, trying to take the little money that group had away so they could swim in it?

By the way, the spellchecker I am using to write this recognized “welshed” as a verb and not welched as I originally spelled it. It also recognized gypped. Are spellcheckers racist? They have some power in this regard and I would say, yes, they are racist.

Regardless, those words have more or less fallen into disuse. Progress may be slow in racial matters but it is progressing.

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Superman Clothes Under Clark Kent’s Suit

How many times have I seen Clark Kent start to leap into action by pulling back his suit on his chest revealing the Superman S? Many times is the answer. I bet you’ve seen this before, too, dear reader. I never questioned it until recently.

Does Clark Kent wear this double suit home from the office during heat waves? That would be brutal. And before someone says that he has an alien physiology, remember this alien has been posing as human for decades with no one being any wiser. Surely Clark Kent has had many opportunities to sweat. I bet Superman can sweat and might have to sweat in order to avoid overheating.

Even if he doesn’t sweat, his body would become overheated in the heat. Surely Lois would have noticed this in the hundreds of times Superman has picked her up while rescuing her. She would have said something like “Superman, you’re so hot!”

Maybe the Superman suit has advanced technology to prevent the wearer from overheating. But could it cool under the conditions portrayed in all the Superman stories? Air conditioning creates more heat than cooling. The reason air conditioners work is because the heat is made outside the volume to be cooled. That suit stuck inside another suit is not going to provide any cooling. It’s waste heat would be trapped by Clark’s business suit.

So Superman would likely cook if he wears a double suit. I think we have enough knowledge now to call BS on the idea of Superman wearing his suit under a suit.

Even if we couldn’t, there is the little problem of wrinkling. If he is wearing a superman suit under a business suit the question is how does the cape fit in? The answer is that it doesn’t fit neatly inside. Instead it must be getting wrinkled in some obvious way. Obvious enough so people would notice.

The people around might start making jokes. “Superman’s good but he’s no Ironman.” Or “He’s like Dorian Gray. He’s been around since 1938 but all the wrinkles that should be on him are on his cape instead!” Or if a case is taking a long time to solve, “This case is going slow because of all the new wrinkles Superman finds.”

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Scourge of the Twenties

I guess I should have known that no good would happen when I let off some long pent up steam in one of my posts years ago. That post, Scourge of the Nineties, aimed to show modern people the problem with living in the nineties. That’s because car alarms weren’t installed properly and would go off at inopportune times. I naively thought this had been fixed everywhere simply because I hadn’t heard one for years.

Then someone moved in to the building next door with an improperly installed car alarm. I am well aware of this because my apartment overlooks their parking lot. I have heard it many, many times. And the owner can’t be bothered to get to it right away so it goes on for a couple minutes every single time.

I’ve racked my brain for a solution but haven’t been able to come up with a good one easily. First of all, I thought of assassination. But with the owner dead, that car alarm is going to just go off for an ungodly amount of time before someone figures out how to stop those horrible noises it makes.

My second idea would be to break in and disable the car alarm itself. What an ironic response to a car alarm. I was thinking of wrecking the alarm and leaving the car alone. It’s just that I don’t know that much about cars or car alarms. So even though the owner takes a long response time, undoubtedly they’d be on time to see me and my wrench working away on the car. I’d have to run to avoid being caught.

Remember I wanted to leave the car alone. But the irresponsible owner has painted me into a corner. I have to get the word out on the street that despite the car alarm it will be an easy to steal car in that parking lot. Yes, it has an alarm but everyone who might be able to stop the act of theft will not, as per usual, act. You see at this point, the car alarm is like white noise to the listeners, since they have heard it so frequently.

Anyhow a professional car thief will be able to turn off the car alarm and drive away with their prize. Long before Mr. I’ll Turn My Car Alarm Off When I’m Good And Ready gets to the scene.

I just hope the car thief doesn’t leave the car alarm installed in the car and leave my problem to a new neighbourhood. One where the paranoid, alarm loving owner buys hot automobiles (more irony). But hey, the problem will be out of my neighbourhood.

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