Remember

Could they have known?  Those 19 crazed, homicidal humans, drunk on religion and righteousness, could they have know just how much they'd change the world?  I doubt it, though I suspect they hoped as much.

I'm not naive, nor am I unaware of the world outside North America.  People all over the world lived with fear and uncertainty long before that that one day in September where just how violent a world we live in was driven home .  Hell, there are even plenty of people, the destitute and desperate poor of North America, who knew this fact long before that day. The ability to turn groups of humans into the "other", into less than you are, is all that's needed to commit atrocities. Once you've done that, the rest is just planning and logistics.

I wish to live in a world where the only requirements to be ingroup is to have human DNA and act as if all people are of equal worth.  I don't even care that everyone actually believes that we're all equal, just that they act as if we are.  And isn't it a condemnation of the society in which I live that I feel the need to define what "all people" means?

To this end, I beg you, the next time you find yourself using the word "they", stop.  Stop and think about the group you're talking about.  Think about why you've grouped them together.  Take a moment to remember that no matter how different you think they are, they're all still human.  They had a mother and a father, they eat and sleep and desire.  They are most likely more similar to you than they are different.  And yes, I did this when I thought about the 911 hijackers.  Remembering that they are human too does not excuse what they did.  Remembering their humanity reminds me that I too can make people into the "other".  It reminds me that I have to better than that.

That's the lesson of 911 for me.  I will remember.

Craziness Update

I forgot to post this when it happened.  The crazy commenter who first showed up here, and again here, this time with a death threat, was arrested and is now in psych evaluation.  Despite being a little flippant about him initially, I sincerely hope he's now going to get the help he needs.  And I do think that though I was never worried about his death threats, those who lived nearer to him were right to be concerned.

No More Lies

I don't know.
No, really.
I don't know.

Three little words.
No. Contraction.
Four little words.

How much misery?
No, seriously.
How much pain?

Made up stories.
No truth.
Couldn't say them.

Those four little words:

I do not know.

Hooray!

Well, my mother's condition, while still serious, has now entered the realm of comedy.  When I called her this morning I didn't get an answer.  After a couple of tries I called the nurse's station.  A rather abashed nurse told me that the overhead lift device that's used to get her in and out of bed had jammed and they were in the process of extracting her.

My brother had also showed up just as they were preparing to get her out and then the phone began ringing over and over again.  Those poor nurses.  Anyway, all was sorted.  Mum's on her third type of antibiotic and it seems to be working.  The blood infection she had has been cured and slowly the extra fluid they made her retain to raise her blood pressure is draining.  Not a moment too soon because it was exacerbating the pneumonia.  Cautious optimism is the order of the day.

One serendipitous thing was that my niece was there too.  I haven't talked to her in a couple of years I think.  She's now in grade 11 and of course I had to ask what she was planning for after graduation.  I loved how ready she was for that question.  I remember how it was for me, it got so I could recite my plans without actually thinking about it.   Plus ca change..

But there's a big difference between my plan, such as it was, and hers.  She's planning on becoming a teacher and has figured out all she has to do to achieve that.  Fan-fucking-tastic!  I almost said that out loud to her and I'm afraid I did exclaim and babble a bit.  Ah well, I am the strange uncle with the ungodly ideas who lives overseas.  I do have a reputation to uphold after all.

I was honestly happy though.  You see, there is nothing more important than education to the future of humanity.  Nothing has ever been improved on this planet of ours by a lack of education. And Canada, and much of the western world come to that, needs all the teachers it can get.  And even better, in this case we're going to be getting someone who's not only focused, and I believe capable the kind of dedication that job requires, but we're getting one who's really, really smart.

My niece and nephew are a couple of the brightest kids I know.  Sure I'm biased, but I also value my honesty enough to not let that get in the way too much.  Besides, all the stuff I've learned about critical thinking over the last few years keeps me very aware of my cognitive biases.

I pay a lot of attention when I'm around my brother's kids because I see them so seldom.  The questions they ask, and don't ask, the way they ask them and how they understand the answers leads me to believe that those two are pretty bloody bright.

So, hooray for humanity.  If she goes through with it, it'll be one small but oh so important step forward in our progress as a species.  And hell, even if she doesn't I'm pretty sure no matter what path she choses it will be one that will benefit greatly from her being on it.

Universal Daughter

The bed is too small for all three of us now.
Mum sits on the floor while I read.
You love your stories, "Daddy!  Not like that!"
Except when I try a little voice acting.

The bed is warm but the wall chills my spine.
Mum's toasty in front of the heater.
You look at me, nose inches from mine.
Except for misty eyes no one would know:

I gaze upon a universe of potential and it fills me utterly.

Joy is too small a word.

Silly

My daughter likes to smile, squint one eye in an attempt at a wink, hold out a big thumbs up and roll her stomach muscles.  Seriously.  Picture a four year old girl with pig tails, a dimple and this expression:

Subtract the pointing and add some seriously flexible stomach contortions.

She taught herself the tummy roll after watching Sesame Street where apparently some guest did it, the rest is a bit of a mystery.  She always asks "Why are you laughing Daddy?"  Which of course makes me laugh more.  How the hell can I answer that question?

I've made an effort to always be as complete and honest with her as I can when she asks me questions.  She has a basic understanding of sex for instance.  Not the act, but only because it hasn't come up yet.  It might never, we do live on a farm after all.  But she does know that she grew in Mummy's tummy and that she started out as an egg from Mummy combined with a seed from Daddy.  She also knows when our rooster is doing that to a hen he's trying to give his seed to her.  I guess we will have to have a sex talk at some point, just to make sure that she understands that human sex isn't usually that quick, violent or one sided.  :)

When she asks what things are called I also strive to use the real word even if it's polysyllabic.  You'd be surprised at how fast she picks up even the most complex words.  A four year old's brain has huge portions of it dedicated to language acquisition, might as well take advantage of that while it lasts.

But I am at a loss to explain to her why I find that particular performance so hilarious.  I mean it just IS.  Sometimes the only honest answer is "I don't know."  Of course, it's tricky getting that out when you're snorting soy milk out your nose.