Who else will?

A co-worker recently asked me a question while we were making idle small-talk. I rarely have very serious conversations at work, partly because I don't care to deepen my work relationships too far out of my comfort zone, and partly because I don't believe that many of the people I work with have similar enough tastes in subject matter for me to believe the conversation meaningful and worthwhile. Anyway, we were discussing weekend plans, and I mentioned that I would be spending a day volunteering at Best Friends, a no-kill animal shelter located outside Zion National Park. My co-worker was slightly taken aback by how I was going to spend my Saturday, and he almost immediately asked "Why would you spend your time helping animals when there are so many people that need help?"

I was shocked that he'd even asked. So much so that I couldn't even articulate a good answer. I think I mumbled something about liking animals and that was the end of our conversation. I suppose that his question might be considered a fair one, especially when one takes into account the enormity of human suffering around the world. The current economic crisis is causing many people to lose their homes, some parents to choose between necessities like paying for gas to get to work in order to provide for their families, or buying food for their children to eat or paying for health care they desperately need. People are dying by the thousands all over the world: the genocide in Darfur, natural disasters such as the earthquake in Italy or typhoons in Southeast Asia. The plight of women in countries like Pakistan or Somalia, to name just a few. There is no doubt in my mind that there is plenty of human suffering to be found almost anywhere one cares to look. So why help animals, who after all are "lower forms of being"? Why spend time on creatures that aren't even sentient? Why donate money or even time to help ease the suffering of animals that we esteem so little as to experiment on them, raise them in huge numbers only to slaughter and eat them, or destroy their natural habitats to the extent of their inevitable extinction?

If we're going to debate the relative value of these issues, then why not compare other causes? Why raise money to research infertility and its causes when there are millions of homeless or foster children who need and deserve loving homes? Why fight to preserve the opportunity for students to learn not only language arts and mathematics, but also science, history, and the arts when the latter subjects are not life "essentials"? Why bother raising money for research into cures for diseases when the world is facing overpopulation problems?

The point that I'm trying to make is that comparing different causes is as useless as comparing apples and oranges. I could go insane trying to analyze the comparative value of many worthy efforts. And why would I want to restrict myself to contributing in only one way? The fact is that if it is only permissible to care for animals after all human suffering has been eradicated all over the world, or even in any single country, then it never will be permissible. I am realistic. There is not much that I can do to help all of the people who need it, and truth be told, in general I like animals much more than I like people. I feel comfortable around them because they make so much more sense than people do. They never try to deny their true natures. They don't play the cruel mind-games that humans practice without even thinking. When they offer love and affection, it is complete and unconditional. How many of us can say the same? And perhaps most important, they may not be "sentient" in the ways that humans have decreed that they must be in order to be considered a higher life form, but just because animals don't adhere to our standards doesn't mean that there's nothing there. Animals feel pain, sadness, happiness, love. The question is not "Can animals think?" but "Can animals suffer?", and I believe that the answer is yes. They're voiceless, however. They cannot fight for their rights in human society. They cannot understand when their people abandon them because of a stupid homeowner's association rule, or the fact that their people did not plan for how big they would get, or that their people simply don't want to take care of them anymore. Who will help them, if not me? As stupid as it may sound to some people, I care about them. I care about them in groups, I care about them as individuals. It breaks my heart that 150 dogs were euthanized without any evaluation in Indiana, simply because they were seized from a dog-fighting ring. Many of them were just puppies, who had not yet been trained to fight. It breaks my heart that millions of animals are euthanized every year because they were abandoned, and no one cared enough to adopt them. It breaks my heart that I am not able to take all of these needy animals and care for them, protect them. All I can do is what I can do.

I know the animals at Best Friends, well, the cats, mostly. It's more relaxing to work with the cats. The dogs are a little too high-energy for me. I know them the way their handlers know them: as individuals. I don't know them as well, but I appreciate the time that I am able to give them, and I like to think that they appreciate it, too. Visit the Best Friends website - www.bestfriends.org - to get an idea of what this sanctuary is like. Take a look at the animals that I have come to know and care for:

This is Gimble. He and his brother Ty were born with a neurological disorder that makes them lurch and wobble when they walk, as if they're drunk. They can eat out of their food bowls, drink from their water dishes, and use their litter boxes, but they will probably never be adopted, just because they're a little different.

This is Peepers. She's completely blind, but she still gets around fairly easily. She tends to stay on the ground because she can't judge the height or length of tables or chairs, but she's very sweet. If she senses that someone is near enough to pet her, she'll rear up on her hind legs and reach for them with her front paws. She will probably never be adopted, because it's always a challenge to take on animals with disabilities. They become ousted from society, just like humans with disabilities are sometimes. The difference is that a disabled human is not likely to be euthanized because of it.

This is Vante. She is a beautiful cat with very affectionate personality. She loves to ride on people's shoulders and purr against the back of their heads. She seems like a creature of the air, staying mostly on shelves and table tops and only venturing to the floor for food. She has been adopted several times, and returned to Best Friends every single time. Why? Because she has a digestive disorder that involves incontinence, and she cannot always make it to her litter box in time. She will probably never find a forever home, because for most people her loving nature does not outweigh the messes she can't help but make.

This is Peanut (above) and Bubba Lou (below). They are both paralyzed in their hind legs. Peanut was shot, and lost the use of her hind legs. She is able to get around by scooting around on her front legs. Bubba Lou was rescued by Best Friends during one of their special trips to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. He had been hit by a car, leaving his hind legs mangled and broken, but thankfully pain-free. He has now had both of them removed, in order to improve his mobility. It's probable that neither of these cats will be adopted. Their paralysis has also made them incontinent, and as I said before, it's difficult to take in animals with disabilities.

So why do I waste my time helping animals rather than humans? Because if I don't, who else will?

A Little Light Reading

I was inspired by a friend's blog posting to update any interested parties on my current reading (she always has such good ideas). I love to read. As mentioned in a previous posting of mine, books are my drug of choice. There are few things that I can do for hours at a time without needing to break for trivial things like food, sleep, etc. Reading is one of them. When I take some new purchase home from the bookstore (especially if I've been anticipating it), only my training, instilled in me by my mother in her hope that I would function like a normal human being, prevents me from cutting myself off from the outside world completely. The very real possibility exists that I could end up in a hermit-like state, only venturing out to replenish my supply of food, darting furtively through crowds of outsiders at the grocery store and only relaxing when I return home, victorious. A few things prevent me from doing this: 1) I have no income, other than my job, that would sustain this lifestyle - I can't pay the rent without money, and I don't have a place to keep my books without an apartment. 2) Contrary to popular belief, I do not loathe all human contact - just most of it. I suppose there would be a point, eventually, when I would want to interact with another person, even if it's only the clerk at the bookstore. To my mother's relief, my addiction to the written word does not quite surpass the requirement of living and working in society (as long as I can get my "fixes").

For those who haven't yet quit reading this post to go on to more interesting things, here is a brief overview of my recent and immediate future reading:

Coming out April 14 (FINALLY!): Bloodhound, by Tamora Pierce

The second installment of Pierce's Beka Cooper series, Bloodhound promises to be just as good, if not better, than Terrier. By now Beka has finished her year in training to be a Provost's Guardswoman, and will soon be a junior partner to a senior Guard (we'll see how well this turns out - she was good with Tunstall and Goodwin, but Beka's got her own way of doing things). My guess (soon to be proved wrong, I'm sure) is that she'll tackle an illegal slave-trading operation, probably made complicated by her sort of love-interest, Rosto the Piper. At the end of Terrier, Rosto had secured his claim to the title of "Rogue", the king of the criminals. This should prove to be interesting!

Coming out sometime in May: The Last Olympian, by Rick Riordan

This is the fifth and probably final installment of Riordan's wonderful series Percy Jackson and the Olympians. For those of you who may be ignorant of this series, let me encourage you to at least read the first book, The Lightning Thief. In this book, Percy Jackson realizes that he is the half-mortal son of Posiedon, and that the gods and goddesses of Ancient Greece have adapted and hidden themselves to survive in modern culture. In The Last Olympian, Percy will come up against the Titan Kronos yet again, and finally understand the meaning of the prophecy that could change the world, and his life, forever. Riordan's engaging narrative and intricate plots are worth reading, no matter what your age.

Just finished reading this week: Lies My Teacher Told Me, by James Loewen

Lies My Teacher Told Me is an astute analysis of the way U.S. history is being taught in public schools, based primarily on a review of the most popular textbooks for said classes. Loewen barely skims the surface of the most glaring incongruities between our history and what is taught from the textbooks. His topics range from the truth about the first Thanksgiving to the treatment and analysis of events in the 2000s. I guarantee that you will learn something, and you will probably be shocked.

Just finished reading a few months ago: The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett

On the suface, a wonderful and exciting story about a street-wise cat and his partners in crime, a band of intelligent rats. Maurice (the cat) and the rats move from town to town, giving the people a "plague" of rats and then cashing in by having a piper (who is in on the scam) lure them away. All of that changes when they come to a town called Bath. For those of you who are brave enough to dig deeper, it is a deep exploration of themes like societal structure, ethics, and death. It is much more than it appears to be, trust me.

Currently reading: Cynicism from Diogenes to Dilbert, by Ian Cutler

I was inspired to order this book after reading a newspaper article about Cynicism as philosophical thought. I learned about one of the founders of Cynicism, the Greek philosopher Diogenes. Most of what is taught of and about Diogenes is anecdotal, as writing down the tenets of Cynicism would be completely contrary to its intention. Diogenes lived in a barrel, rolling it wherever he wished to go. According to lore he walked through the streets with a lit lantern in full daylight, and when people asked him what he was doing, he replied "Looking for an honest man." Alexander the Great was purportedly an admirer of Diogenes, and upon finding the philosopher lying on the ground and basking in the sun, introduced himself. Alexander offered to do him any favor he wished, and Diogenes, after some thought, asked him to move out of the way of his sunlight. Though Cynicism is widely believed to be something negative, the orginal thought behind it is not. Cynics strove to disabuse society of any illusions that it may have about itself. Animals were to be admired for their lack of self-denial. They never pretended to be anything other than what they were, and that was something to be emulated. Cynicism has evolved over the years as a way for people to protect themselves when they believe that society has become unbearable. In other words, it's my kind of philosophy!

So that's a small taste of what I have been reading, and hope to in the future. Let me know if you have any suggestions, or if you have any questions about these!

Happiest place on Earth?

Disneyland bills itself as "the happiest place on Earth." Why does Disney think that it can make this claim? Is it because after you wait in line to buy an entrance ticket, then wait in line to enter, you are magically transported back into a state of childlike wonder once you make it past the body-counters at the gate? Or is it because when you pose with a beloved Disney character (after waiting in line), smiling wide enough to break your face, you still know at the back of your mind that underneath the guise of the happy, waving character beside you is a sweaty underpaid actor who couldn't care less about posing with you - all they can think about is the long line of people behind you and how many more damn pictures they have to pose for before the end of their shift. Perhaps the happiness comes from ten-dollar chili dogs accompanied by a three-dollar Coke, which you are able to acquire after waiting in line. Maybe the happiness spills over from the many small children, who signify their happiness by screaming and throwing hugely impressive tantrums.

Don't get me wrong - there are a few things that I really love about Disneyland. I love Space Mountain, Pirates of the Caribbean, and the Haunted Mansion. I love the theatre of the place - all of the amazing set dressing and costuming. I love the structures - the buildings, the rides, all of it. That said, one day at Disneyland every few years is plenty of the experience for me. My love of the craft of Disneyland is outweighed by my intense dislike of people (in general). Especially lots and lots of people in cramped circumstances. It's amazing, isn't it, that Disneyland (the happiest place on Earth, in case you forgot) is a lot like a Communist state - the few who can afford it receive special treatment, and everyone else gets to wait in line. What's even more amazing is that people pay lots of money for the privilege to do so.

If Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth, then I have little hope for happiness. If it isn't the happiest place on Earth, is it instead the place "where dreams come true"? What kind of dreams are people having if that's true? Their dream is to herd their unhappy children through a sweltering maze of people, subject them to being held by large, frightening creatures and whirled through the air in strange machines? What sadistic people we are. Why aren't we dreaming about world peace or saving endangered species of plants and animals?

The fact is that Disneyland, while it can make for a good time, should not be an example of "the happiest place on Earth" or a place "where dreams come true." What it should be is a fun-house mirror - a distorted reflection of ourselves. Perhaps to some of us, this reflection has made us look taller, slimmer - something that we want to obtain. To others, the result of this false happiness is ugly and twisted. It may be wonderful on the surface, but the distortion, the unnaturalness of it always lurks beneath. Keep an eye to the true heart of a thing, if you want to know what it actually is.

Geekiness

Recently a friend of mine posted a new blog entry about the definition of "cool". This friend had expressed some annoyance that a person she knew had characterized an obnoxious acquaintance of hers as "cool". This led her to wonder what truly makes someone "cool" - is "coolness" based on inclusive or exclusive criteria? My friend's blog entry made me think about "cool" as well - is there only one kind of "cool"? I suppose it depends on who you ask. If you look at it a certain way, there are as many types of "cool" as there are hobbies, genres, fan clubs, skills, etc. I might think that a certain pastime is complete waste of time, while someone else might devote large amounts of time and income in pursuit of it. Does this mean that this other person is not as "cool" as I am? If you ask me, the answer is yes. Not that I'm an expert, but here are a few different types of "cool." See if you can guess which "cool" category I might belong to (don't let the title of this blog entry give it away):

"Teen-cool": "Teen-cool" is a very exclusive kind of cool, although its only requirement is to be within the ages of thirteen and nineteen. Kids who are younger than thirteen can't wait to be teens - that's when the world will start to take you seriously. That's when you get to start doing the really grown-up things, like taking a driver's ed class or going on dates. That's when you're finally out from under your parents' thumb, with the freedom you know that you deserve. Those of you who are in your post-teen years are no doubt wiping away tears of involuntary laughter. Life is never what you expect it to be, especially when you try to pin it down with arbitrary deadlines - "Once I reach this age, life will be so much simpler, etc." Teens deal with the disappointment of their teenage years by trying to be "cool". "Teen-cool" is really nothing more than trying desperately to impress your peers instead of your parents. It is the height of embarrassment to have a sibling (older or younger) acknowledge you at school - God forbid one of your parents shows up! The only way to stay "teen-cool" is to disavow any connection with anyone who isn't a teenager - unless they happen to be really cool in a different way.

"Athletic-cool": There is a very common name for someone who is "athletic-cool". Anyone? That's right - jock. These are the people who can do almost anything that requires physical dexterity. These are the people who, in your high school gym class, no matter which sport the class happened to be "studying" at the time, somehow played the games as if generation upon generation of their family had been painstakingly cultivated and bred down to produce the perfect athlete. These are the people whose veins run with a combination of maximum-capacity oxygen-carrying red blood cells and Gatorade (with some steroids thrown in for good measure). These are the people who are born knowing the rules of football, or baseball, or basketball (and every method to circumvent those rules when the referee isn't watching). These were the people who passed U.S. History by showing up three times and having their finals graded on a curve.

"Geek-cool": This kind of "cool" is very rarely recognized by anyone outside it. "Geek-cool" is characterized by an excessive devotion to something with no practical physical value. This could be almost anything: stamps, comic books, video games, movies, computers, books, etc. This type of "cool" has its own exclusivity - not that people are beating down the door to join in. "Geek-cool" is based on knowledge. Whether or not this knowledge is considered useless by the rest of the world is irrelevant. It takes time to learn both of the Elvish alphabets and the Dwarvish alphabet and become fluent/literate in these made-up languages. It takes time to memorize the call-sign of every Imperial Storm-trooper in all six of the Star Wars movies (though technically in Episodes 1-3 the Storm-troopers were still part of a Republic). It takes time to go through the trailer of the next big comic book movie frame-by-frame to make sure that they're staying as true as possible to the original story. People who are "geek-cool" suffer the derision of almost all other types of cool - hence the lack of recognition. Geeks suffer for their coolness. They not only put in the time to learn the useless things that they know, they also have to put up with the endless torment inflicted upon them by - to pick a group at random - people who are "athletic-cool".

I'm not saying that any of these types of "cool" are necessarily better than the others. Some are just smarter.

It's Coming...

One of the advantages to living in the area that I do is that winter comes in late and leaves early. I have always been slightly skeptical of people who claim that they suffer from SAD, a clever little acronym made up of the following words: Seasonal Affective Disorder. This "disorder" is basically just cabin fever; the frustration and depression that people feel during the winter months. The days are shorter and darker, the weather is cold and unforgiving, and people tend to gain weight because there's nothing to do but sit curled up in a blanket with some comfort food. Married couples also tend to have a lot of children with birthdays in the fall.

Lots of people go through this, myself included. I know that it happens, but in my opinion, claiming to have an actual disorder is just going to perpetuate the depression - "I'm so sad and depressed that I must have a disorder, which makes me even sadder and more depressed." The people who don't claim to have this "disorder" are either winter people (who I really don't understand), or people like me. I get through the winter by thinking about what always comes after it: spring. Summer is my favorite season, but spring is the season that makes you believe in summer. Once the days start getting longer, once the weather starts to turn, I can believe that summer is coming. Not only that, but spring is a pleasant in-between season. The plants start to wake up and remember that they're alive and they're supposed to flower and be green. Spring is a season of recovery. The natural cycle of life is visible everywhere - animals are having their babies, fruit trees blossom - a brief sort of spring formal for them.

The days are warming up. It was sixty-two degrees yesterday, and today it might get up to seventy. The sun doesn't seem so cold and distant anymore. The dreaded winter coat takes up long-term residence in the closet. Scraping ice from the windows of your car becomes a memory, as does shivering in the driver's seat while waiting for the hot air to come out of the heater. Wearing sandals becomes possible. Leaving home with a light jacket or no jacket at all - a thing of beauty. Anticipating the re-opening of the apartment swimming pool. The sublime experience of lingering outside, motionless, eyes closed and basking in the sun. This is the kind of season that gives me hope for the future. However dismal things may seem during the winter, the simple yet subtle boost that warmer weather gives me is amazing. For any of you who may still be trapped in the seasonal depression known more commonly as "winter," feel free to breeze on down. We can enjoy it together.

Game of Inches

Recent events have reminded me about the fragile nature of life. It's something that I usually don't think about until I'm faced with death. Death is the reason that people are religious, why religion came about in the first place. Whatever it is about humanity's "higher consciousness" caused people to ask questions: Why do people die? Is that it? Are they gone forever - at least, the part of them that is uniquely "them"? If they're not gone forever, then where is it that they go? What happens to them when they get there? Somehow, people came up with answers for these questions, because the alternative - no answers at all - was too horrifying for people to live with. It's all a matter of comfort. It is comforting to believe that death isn't simply the end of someone - of everyone. It is comforting to believe that death isn't simply random sequences of events, that there might be some greater purpose behind it all. I suppose that it might be comforting, regardless of any "heaven" or "hell" that a person may end up in after they die, to know that they still exist.

I'm not saying that all religion is meaningless and that there is no God (or whoever). I just believe that if there is an omniscient being (beings?) keeping tabs on us, then I think it very presumptuous of us to believe that we know how this being works, thinks, or exercises whatever supreme power it might possess. I cannot make a definitive statement either way (and who would accept it if I did? I'm not an authority on the subject). I think that people (over very long periods of time) have projected human characteristics on this being because they want to think that they know this being, or at least that it knows them (and I'm not saying that it doesn't - it's impossible to know).

A discussion on religion and the existence is God was not really the course that I wanted this posting to take. I haven't been thinking so much about religion and death, but rather about life. A gun barrel tilted just a few degrees to the right or the left would have missed the femoral artery completely. The same barrel turned 180 degress would have seriously wounded or killed another person I know. A car five more miles to the east would have been closer to the hospital. The same car five miles to the west wouldn't have had a chance of getting to the hospital in time. How many times a day are we inches away from death without even realizing it? Leaving 30 minutes early from work would have put a car right in the middle of a deadly freeway accident. If a person had been looking in a different direction at a certain moment, they would have stepped into the path of a vehicle. Life is a game of inches, and we don't even know when we're playing for our lives.

Observations

The littlest things are the most interesting. It's all about noticing things. That's what stand-up comics do for a living. The reason why the really good comics are so funny is because they are speaking the truth - or at least a part of it, anyway. It's a fact that the things that make you feel the most - the angriest, the happiest, the saddest - are the things you know are true. Here are some small observations that I have found to be true:

There is an inverse relationship between penis/brain size and how "pimped" his ride is.

No matter how weird you think your family is, they can always get weirder.

Futons may sound like a good idea, but your butt wears out long before you get your money's worth. In a related observation, leather or vinyl furniture is never a good idea! They are cold to the touch during the winter, and act like an adhesive during the summer.

Time is relative. An entire lunch hour may seem to go by in 20 minutes, while the span of time between 4:40 pm and 5:00 pm seems like an hour.

A car is not a cloak of invisibility. Even though you may be alone in your car, people can still see you when you pick your nose.

Hot dogs are not food. If you don't know for sure what it's made of, DON'T EAT IT! (Neither is baloney.) (You may know what Sloppy Joes are made of, but don't eat them either. They're just gross.)

There is never a good time to do laundry.

Always chew tortilla chips thoroughly. They have sharp edges.

There is nothing amusing about people bringing out the worst in themselves and others. I'm looking at you, reality TV!

Nothing looks so appetizing as when you tell yourself you can't have it.

At 3:00 am, the Wonder Broom really is amazing.

There is always something that you don't know. Never assume anything.

Speaking loudly will not help a non-English speaker to understand you. Saying "el" and adding "-o" to the end of every word does not mean you're speaking Spanish.

So those are some random observations. I invite you to make your own - why are things the way they are? Find out!