10th Anniversary of This Blog – That’s a Lot of Ranting

The true anniversary of this blog is on December 20th. My admittedly poor memory thought it was after Christmas in 2009 when I started but it was really before. So it is actually 10 years and a week old.

First I will dredge up my favourite 6 posts from this year and tomorrow I will link to my favourite 10 posts of the decade. This decade I like to call the teens.

In January, I finally got to vocalize a long held belief – that Stevie Nicks bleats like a sheep. In March I had an idea for a lucrative business for plastic surgeons. May had the mind bending title: This is a Work of Fiction.

August had Lovecats and the machinations of Robert Smith. October saw a way to ruin the learning time of more students.

November opened up a new superhero duo that I intend to write more of in the new year. Visitor wise the superhero bits don’t do as well. It’s just that it is a new avenue for me with many ideas to come. The fact that this December and last December I wrote 2 posts about the same use of the words scrooge and grinch. I need to use what ever new avenues I can find or else I will stagnate.

Till tomorrow, then.

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Don’t Scrooge the Grinch or Grinch Scrooge

The people in charge of our words look like they don’t know the story of How the Grinch Stole Christmas or The Christmas Carol. The biggest take away from these two stories is that the Grinch is now one of the most avid celebrators of Christmas, as is Scrooge.

Their names, if they must be used as words, should mean a person (or creature) who celebrates Christmas fervently. “You scrooge so well, Brenda that you won the lighting contest for our city. I don’t know how you came up with the money for your electrical bill!” Or, “Way to grinch the charity, John, by donating so many, many toys to the needy.”

There are other words in English that can mostly get at what scrooge or grinch mean. “He’s a Christmas miser!” Or “she tries to steal the fun of Christmas!” But no we have to go to the grinch and scrooge untruths.

Perhaps we can say we mean the proto scrooge or the early grinch. Let’s try them out. “You are a proto scrooge for not getting me tons of stuff for Christmas!” Or “You early grinch for not giving to the Christmas charity that once helped you, now that you can give back!”

But proto sounds like the speaker means way back to a fetus or even a parent. And the early grinch sounds like he gets the worm. We are going to have to be even more precise.

So you might have quite the time spitting out “You dishonour Christmas with your early scrooge philosophy on life.“ Yes, that has the ring of truth about it. Or “You are as the proto grinch with your illegal anti Christmas actions.”

Finally the current Scrooge and the current Grinch will enter their proper places in our vernacular. It will be a third Christmas miracle!

OOPS! I wrote this topic last year! See the differences.

Here I was going to celebrate next post as my 10th anniversary of blogging. This dampens that a little. Live. Learn.

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BC Has the Lowest Per Capita Marijuana Retail Sales in Canada

British Columbians have a reputation in Canada as being the biggest pot smokers in the country. This reputation was built over the last few decades at least. It was no surprise to Canadians that gold medal winning snowboarder, Ross Rebagliati tested positive for THC from marijuana at the Nagano Olympics and he is a native British Columbian.

His excuse was classic. The positive drug result was from him inhaling second hand smoke at a party where friends were smoking marijuana. Whether he did or didn’t smoke up, he kept the gold medal because marijuana wasn’t a banned substance for Olympian performance, yet. It is banned, now, but at higher concentrations than the reading at Nagano.

Whether Ross’s story is true or not I will leave up to you but he has been financially involved with medical marijuana companies since that test.

That aside, ask a Canadian to give qualities of a British Columbian. I bet “stoner” or the equivalent is in the top 5.

So the title of this post is funny. It’s just that it is also true. So what’s going on here?

Obviously British Columbians are staying with their pushers. Perhaps it was such a common pastime and pot pushing was so common that the price on the black market is as low as possible already. Or the local pusher is closer than the nearest pot store.

The pushers have the market saturated and the only retail customers that the pot stores attract are those that are trying it for the first time and lack a pusher.

Regardless, if the British Columbian government wants to get rid of the black market, they are going to have to try harder. After all, they have quite possibly the biggest per capita market to tax. I see dollar signs appearing in the government’s eyes. Perhaps they will realize the mistakes they’ve made and become more competitive.

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Superhero Hunt

Mother Earth had seen and “heard” what had gone on in Tail’s attempt to snag Varmint, but Tail had only ended up losing his guns. Mother Earth was very worried that this was the end of Tail.

But Varmint kept his nose pointed in the air and Mother earth saw him say, “Because of you inviting me to join you with our noses pointing up, I am going to give you a thirty second head start before I hunt you.”

Tail said nothing and ran toward a house that had a woods out back. Mother Earth timed Tail and he took 20 seconds to have the building between him and any shots from Varmint. Varmint remained still until he counted out the full thirty seconds.

Now Mother Earth had a choice. She could follow Tail or Varmint with the scope. She had planned out that she would follow Varmint. Varmint was slower than Tail; it’s just that he had that amazing endurance and would easily catch Tail at the end of the day.

She told the spy satellite to change to infrared as Varmint came up to the woods. This enabled her to track him. She knew her tracking would be okay as long as he didn’t go into a building. Confident of her abilities she began thinking ahead.

She got a Russian translating app off of the Pentagon computers. She then went into the Kremlin’s computer system. It took less than a second to get in.

She had actually used that brag to Tail. She had said she could get into any computer system in less than a second. But really, it was less a brag and more an assertion of ability.

The translating slowed her down a bit but eventually she found the link up to all the submarines at Russia’s disposal. She had hoped for one in Hudson’s Bay but was happy to find one even closer – in James Bay off Moosonee. She gave the order and it rose to the surface.

There were various missiles it could launch but she was happier to find a long range drone on board. She took over it’s electronics and then launched it. At the pace it was going she estimated that it would get to Varmint in two hours.

So she bided her time following Varmint. Who in turn was following Tail. On the other side of the woods, Varmint broke into a house that Tail must have broken into earlier. This worried Mother Earth for a few moments as she could not see Varmint. But he came out a different door sneezing. Mother Earth decided Tail had put pepper on his scent trail and Varmint didn’t realize it until too late.

In the two hours, Varmint passed at least 5 cars. Since Tail hadn’t hotwired any of these she realized that’s a skill that he probably didn’t have. If he ever got out of this alive, that lack of skills would need to be addressed.

Finally the two hours were up and Mother Earth could also see Varmint through the drone’s camera. She came in low with it and began shooting.

Varmint started doing the “dance of death” as every bullet made his body twitch a bit. He could still move because of his bullet proof outfit. He ran immediately to a house as he figured out that the bullets were coming from the sky. The drone circled and circled and Mother Earth guessed that Varmint wasn’t coming out for any reason. At first Mother Earth hoped that Varmint would come close to a window so she could snuff him out with the whole drone crashing into him. Wherever in the house Varmint was, he wasn’t near a window.

There was, however, a propane tank in a barbecue right beside the house. Mother Earth tried shooting at it until she was out of bullets. She was desperate now and launched the full drone into the barbecue and wall.

From high up she could see the explosion. The house burnt up in minutes. There was no sign of Varmint leaving. She watched until the volunteer fire department showed up. They sprayed water on it from a tanker truck but really it was too late for the house.

That night Mother Earth still hadn’t heard from Tail. But still she couldn’t say he was safe, anyway.

The next day the fire department had found the body of an adult male burnt to death. Mother Earth breathed a sigh of relief. Still, where was Tail? He was still on the run. Perhaps he had run out on the whole idea of being a hero. Mother Earth needed a superhero to be a superhero herself. Maybe she would have to look elsewhere.

THE END (for now!)

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Are Superheroes Snobs?

The current Tail mobile stopped just outside of its destination of Punkeydoodle Corners. The flashing blinkers came on while the vehicle reversed on the shoulder of the road. After half a minute of reversing it came to a stop.

Inside the car, Tail asked, “Can you hear me now?” to his car’s dash that contained his smart phone.

“Yes,” said the female image for Mother Earth but Tail had never met her in person so he was not sure that was the actual Mother Earth’s image.

“Good, it’s still a half hour before I have to meet Varmint. Do you still think that I am going off half cocked with only my tail, rifle and handgun to meet him?”

“You know the risks and what you’re capable of. But if I might lose you, could I at least watch your demise?”

“You’re sick, Mother Earth.”

“I think Varmint might go after me once you’re gone. It’s self preservation, I assure you.”

“How are you going to watch with smartphones not working?”

“I’ve been all in the Pentagon’s computer systems for the last few hours. And I think I can link to visuals from one of their spy satellites.”

“Surely that can’t see Varmint and myself.”

“They would never let it get public but the largest space telescope is pointed down and it has adaptive optics. That’s where they use lasers to measure all the perturbations in the atmosphere and adapt the optics of the spy satellite’s scope to change for optimal seeing. I’m in, right now. Wave out the car window so I can confirm it’s you.”

Tail did just that.

“Perfect. Of course I would like to “hear” what you’re saying and the scope is almost straight up from Punkeydoodle Corners. Could you lift your face while you talk so I can use a program to read your lips?”

“But then I either give away that I’m being tracked or I look like I’m being a snob to Varmint.”

“You’re worried about looking like a snob? He’s trying to kill you.”

It was about time so Tail drove into the hamlet and pulled up to the corner he was to get the coordinates from. He glanced at his watch as it was almost noon. Then he got out of the car and wondered how he would get coordinates when his smartphone wouldn’t work out here. He stood at the corner. There were only 5 houses visible so he eyed them one by one.

Suddenly his eye caught motion. One of the house’s blinds came down and on it were coordinates.

Instead of writing them down, Tail ran toward the house and got to it’s back exit. Varmint was leaving it and froze when he saw Tail.

“I’m not as slow as you must have thought,” said Tail, as much to the sky as to Varmint.

“It figures,” said Varmint. “You would have your nose in the air just to be snobbish around me.”

“You’ve got me all wrong, Varmint. Put your nose in the air, too. I’m not offended and it’s not a special club.”

Varmint stuck his nose in the air tentatively. “That’s not so bad. I see you have a rifle and handgun, too.”

“Yes, I wanted to meet you on–” Tail’s tail had gone between his legs and Varmint’s as well and had started up Varmint’s back when there was a ‘Clang!’ This was followed by a whimper from Tail.

“I thought you might try a rear attack with that tail of yours. How do you like a leg hold trap?”

It was hurting Tail so much that he diverted his attention and hands to take it off. Varmint scooped up Tail’s rifle and handgun.

Tail was relieved physically while now being taxed mentally with the danger of losing his life. Still he couldn’t resist saying, “So you use the guns and traps that kill other varmints!”

TO BE CONTINUED

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Can a Superhero Be Inbred?

Soon after the reveal of his mysterious partner, Mother Earth, Tail was challenged on much of social media by a terrifying new supervillain.

“That’s right, Tail, I am Varmint and I am hunting you,” started the various messages. “Now I am American by choice but I think I had better get you before you’re called in to get me. So I am traveling up there to meet you. I plan to be in the area of Punkeydoodle Corners. It will be outside of the hamlet so you can’t set a trap for me. I will send you precise coordinates next Tuesday at noon.

“Why have I picked such a lonely, out of the way location for our meeting? Well I am trying to trap you in my web, of course. And I think that you may be comfortable in a place that’s so remote and inbred. After all, I bet your mighty, super strong tail has come about by the power of heavy inbreeding. I intend to defeat you by using your inbred features against you.

“If you don’t show up I will hunt down your sorry tail while I am up here in your neck of the woods. Be afraid, Tail, be very afraid. Do not bring your mysterious crime fighting partner, Mother Earth. I am coming alone so I expect you to be alone as well. Varmint out.”

When Tail finally saw this invitation he was first dismayed that he couldn’t bring Mother Earth. Then he did some searches to find out what this Varmint was really all about. The information was all sketchy – no one source knew everything at all but tail gleaned that Varmint was styling himself after a wolf.

Varmint was supposed to have the great smelling and hearing of a wolf (which is also attributable to dogs). He had rigged up an exoskeleton that made him have the endurance to go 150 kilometers in a day.

But Varmint realized the one very major setback of a wolf. They never shoot guns. Thus Varmint outfitted himself with a rifle and a handgun. As well he wore bullet proof clothing.

Now the bullet proof clothing would likely leave a welt or worse if it were actually shot on that area. So Varmint had a large bulletproof helmet made of more solid material that would deflect most shots. He had a smaller and not see through cup for between his legs.

Tail made a social media reply. “I will be ready for you, Varmint. I’ll be on the corner of Punkeydoodle Corners on Tuesday at noon, awaiting the coordinates where we are to meet.

“And must I remind you that esteemed lords, ladies, kings and queens are also inbred. Tail out.”

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New Superhero Duo

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen of the press. I am Tail so I am sure that most of you will recognize me and my super power.”

One reporter raised his hand and asked, “What super power? You just look like a masked man.”

Another said, “Ewwwww! Is that monkey like thing your tail?”

“Yes. That is my super power. The back of me is just as strong as the front of me only it’s all concentrated into the tail form. I am the equivalent of at least two strong men with amazing agility and climbing powers, too! You can see my stories here, here and here.”

A third reporter said, “We were told there would be a superhero duo. Where is your partner? And are they as grossed out about your tail as the rest of us?”

“She will be revealed in a moment, but I must remind you reporters that my tail is a part of me and you should not give negative value judgements about it.”

“We don’t believe you actually have a partner. Unless she is going to make a surprise appearance showing off her super powers?”

“She has been here all along. Underneath the blanket beside me.”

“Is she super small? A shape shifter? Still alive after being flattened?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you…” Tail lifted and threw the blanket away revealing grass. “…Mother Earth!”

There were groans from all that had gathered.

“Don’t you want to hear what her super powers are?”

“Okay,” said one game reporter.

“Her super powers are the USA, Russia and China!”

There was a second bigger groan from the reporters.

“Are you going to really groan when some supervillain is facing down an intercontinental nuclear warhead? Or being chased by a missile invisible to radar?”

Realizing there was not much left to say, the assembled reporters milled about for a moment before dispersing and realizing they might not have a publishable story. Tail was long gone, annoyed again by the usual reaction to his tail.

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If Sports Fans Actually Motivate Players Then…

An unfortunate new payment center in my city’s buses, has slowed cash paying customers and expedited all the various card using passengers.

The old cash system involved an electronic reader that could count multiple coins at the same time. With the new reader you have to insert each coin one at a time. This is time consuming when the passenger has all quarters because the fare is $3.25.

If needed, in the old system, the driver would just hand you a transfer ripped off the stack with the rip showing the time down to 15 minute intervals. With the new system it takes half a minute to print up your transfer. Maybe it’s the slowness of the printer or maybe it needs a few precious seconds for the ink to dry. Either way it’s annoying to everyone.

Now, clearly it’s the payment center’s fault that cash transactions are so slow. Still, in the name of speed I would like it if everyone could convince the cash payers to switch payment methods. Knowing the power of cheering on the home team, I intend to cheer every time a new bus passenger swipes their various cards.

Of course I’ll have to also boo the people using cash. I can boo for as long as it takes for the cash paying person to finally be free of the payment center at the front of the bus.

I know, some of you are thinking this is too harsh. But think about it. When a bunch of passengers are all trying to get on the bus as fast as possible and it’s pouring rain, that minute the cash paying person is using means that the rest of us get wet for that length of time. They could be noble and say “No, you go first – I’m paying cash,” and wave all of us card paying people first. But they never do so I am going to try the booing gambit.

This cheering/booing thing might work in stores, too. Here, paying with cash or cards seem to take about the same time. So I suggest you cheer on either one or both as that may make them even faster (Hey! Every second counts.)

The ones I want you to boo are the price matchers. You know the people who have looked at sales items all across town but only shop at this closest store. For every single item they get they must show the cashier each one and the cashier has to put it in and give the better price. I suggest we boo them into submission. So much so that they never price match again.

“What’s that? You paid how much for those items? It is such a good deal that you hear cheering in your head that is much louder than the external boos that we are making for you?

“Maybe I ought to try price matching.” The other booers might try it, too. So if you find that every line at every store takes a long time to go through, just remember all the money we’re saving. We’re actually okay with using our time to pay for our savings.

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Why I’d Make a Poor Superman

The header of this blog is me from about Hallowe’en in 1975ish in a Superman costume. I was puzzled when my mother, taking pictures of me outside in the costume, told me to pose like I was flying. But I knew I couldn’t fly or fake it well which was why I was puzzled. A few years ago, my sister Laurel made the header and using photo alteration software made it look like I was flying up in the sky. Finally my Superman flying destiny was fulfilled.

But now I think that the dream of being just like Superman has died.

You see, this Hallowe’en I went bowling with friends. I had a mask that fit neatly in my pocket while getting there. Once inside the bowling alley, I put it on. It was a full head mask with horrific looking growths starting on one side of my slitted eyes and continuing on the other side. The mouth wouldn’t open for eating and only had a couple holes to breathe through. I had decided to make do. I was gruesome and it was beautiful.

Then the game started. I knew I couldn’t bowl through those slitted eyes so I took the mask off to bowl. Then I sat down again and put on the mask. It went like this: First I’d take my glasses off. Then I would pull the mask over my head. Then I would slide the mask around a bit until I had half decent vision through the eye slits. Then I would put my glasses back on, over the slits. Finally, I would push the arm hooks of the glasses against my head over my ears so they would stay on.

With the mask on, I would watch the rest of the bowlers until it was my turn. I then took my glasses off, then the mask and then put my glasses on my naked head. I did this for a couple frames and finally said “nuts” and just left my head unfettered for the rest of the game.

I was too lazy to keep honouring the day of costumes. What would I do if I were the real Superman?

I would work at the Daily Planet (as Clark Kent), until a teletype told me of some dangerous emergency. Then I would quickly don my Superman costume and save some lives. Then I would go back to the Daily Planet till the next emergency. Then I would change again and save more lives. Then I would head back and if there were a third emergency, I would yell “ The H-E- double hockey sticks with this!” and then I would fly out as Clark Kent and save the day and lose my secret identity.

And that is if i only have the good type of laziness. Otherwise by the end of the day I’d be saying, “Humans, you’ve got to start saving yourselves.” Then I would leave them to their own devices. The casualty total might be high but at least they might start pulling themselves up by their bootstraps.

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Oh No! Alberta and Saskatchewan Might Separate!

Billboards have appeared in Alberta and Saskatchewan promoting separation from the rest of Canada. I think this is supposed to strike fear in the heart of all Canadians. I don’t think it is working.

What seems to piss off these two prairie provinces the most is inaction on building pipelines to get their oil out to the rest of the world and the carbon tax.

The carbon tax puts a higher price on oil and gas. Maybe some of the prairie economy comes from oil and gas. But like everything you have to weigh the benefits and risks. Not putting a higher price on oil and gas not only puts us behind the rest of the world, but it risks making our earth uninhabitable. Just so some people in Alberta and Saskatchewan can have a higher standard of living for a few years. Indeed, it is my hope that we get a prime minister who is tough enough to say all that oil and gas is going to stay in the ground.

The carbon tax is starting out low. So your economies have time to adjust, Alberta and Saskatchewan. We are trying to look out for your well being to some degree. Appreciate that.

As for the pipelines, do you really think that separation is the right threat? Let’s follow that line of thinking all the way through. Do you really think that other provinces are going to allow your pipelines through their jurisdictions after separation? Good luck with that.

Only this time the rest of Canada is likely to get petty. How about no rail car oil tankers through the rest of Canada? Or no truck oil tankers on our highways. No one is going to allow airplane tankers. Think about it Alberta and Saskatchewan. Do you really want to play the separation game?

The rest of Canada also bought your provinces a long time ago from the Hudson’s Bay Company. If you leave it will come at a price.

Have you seriously thought about separation? I don’t think that is the high card you want to lay down. Maybe the one that should act more accommodatingly is you, Alberta and Saskatchewan.

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