PETA Police

The story is more than a little warped to say the least.  The person that is involved thinking up the “business” is more than a little warped too.  At least in my thinking.  But it is a good “cold day” buzz to relieve this cold weather “shut-in-it is” that some are feeling now.

 

But giving an opinion on this will likely have P.E.T.A. reading my blog at some point. There are PETA Police searching the Internet all the time from the look of it.

 

It seems that Holly Crawford brought down the wrath of PETA by doing a rather ridiculous thing – making a stray cat go through a series of Piercings.  The kittens found in Holly’s possession had ear piercings, a nape piercing, and one kitten had a tail docked.

 

Daphna Nachminovitch, a VP at PETA, called the piercings barbaric.  They had been discovered by the PETA Police.  Holly was providing a service to the world now, at least Holly’s world, to do piercings for other people’s kitties. Holly used the Internet and her Web Site to tell locals what she was able to do for their kittens.

 

The language used is important.  Kitten – not cat.  Barbaric, Cruel, Suffer… all must be in the text of dumb PETA people.  Now watch it Murray – you can hear the hoof beat of PETA Coppers coming… they ride COWs not Hogs.

 

I am more convinced that PETA People have never gone to a farm where the most tough creatures are the Cats that live outside.  The murderous little beasts live near their supper all the time… and breakfast and snacks. It is nothing to see her majesty Matilda the cat walking home with a squealing mouse in her mouth… at least he squeals for a short time as she readies him for supper.

 

Sometimes Matilda will be kind of full when she snaps up little fury Barry the field mouse. So she simply snatches him with a little nip. Holds him for a small time and then lets him go… about one foot… then hammers him again and again.  It is where we get the famous phrase from, “He was with like a cat with a mouse.”

 

I bet PETA People don’t use that expression much – even when they talk about Holly and the local SPCA folk that they goaded on to press charges against Holly and her boy friend.  You need to note only Holly did the Piercing – her boyfriend answered the telephone – that was enough to PETA to react like a “Bear woken in her den”.  You don’t wake up a Bear from its deep winter sleep – unless you intend to place a well planned bullet in its noggin and take it home for meat and the pelt.

 

Oops… I wrote about what a friend of mine did here in our area.  He is a licensed hunter.  He was hunting. He stopped for a rest by a tree, taking in the beautiful scene around and the fact that his area has never ever seen a PETA person.  He felt something move on his foot as he stood by the tree.  He looked down thinking that it was a squirrel or something startled by his quiet presence.  Nope – not a silly squirrel.  It was a 450 pound bear that had just crept out of his lair for a stretch and laid his head down on the hunter’s foot… sniffing him.

 

Needless to say there wasn’t any pain inflicted.  It was over in a humane instant… and the pelt is so soft… the meat was good (someone told me) and everyone was happy.  Mr. Bear had torn a few cottages apart in getting to his 450 pounds.  He liked people food and people places.

 

Like any writer I would rather die than reveal my sources… so hoof beats or not – I told the story.

 

Remember the farm.  Well on the farms that I stayed on and attended often and even worked on… animals remained animals.  They didn’t live in the house with you.

 

Only in one case did I see a fruit loop run a farm. She was a little strange though. She used a home made diaper for calves that she started out by taking them into her kitchen pen.  You know – she used a baby minder kind of across the door as a barrier and the dumb calf stayed their in the warm house wearing a diaper because it tended to mess the floors up.  The diaper was easily removed and shaken outside in the garden… and you could easily tell when it was full.

 

Later she would place the calf in a pig pen with one pig.  The pig in turn taught the calf to only poop in one place in the pen – because that is what pigs do.  The calf was cruelly forced by that pig to mess in only one spot.

 

Talk about unnatural what this woman did.  Again she is protected by my own confidentiality rules.

 

PETA watch your COW machines… this “farmer lady” was a former Nun that had left the convent to become a farmer and that is all that I can tell you.

 

But back on the farm the dumb dog is trained to keep the intruders out. And should PETA Cops arrive on their varoom machines, Fido will kick up such a stink that they will be very careful to dismount. In fact anything hanging down off the PETA Police’s COW will be bitten.  Fido likes to bite.

 

Fido likes to roam too.  He will be in a neighbor’s yard in a heart beat when their dog is in heat.  But that is another thing about farms… what comes naturally is done easily without rules.  So they chain up Fido when the girl down the road is calling him to come over.  Kind of like Samson and Delilah.

 

PETA IS POWERFUL… and you don’t dare mess with a PETA Police Person.

 

In our home we are good… meaning we are safe. The tropical Siamese fighting fish is looked after well, fed each day, given clean water often and lives easily like all dumb fish should.  He has only tried to jump out on the counter top once when I tried to clean him.  And to my knowledge there are no PETF police yet... but there could be.

 

And the Lord help us and my Chinese friends that run their market stalls selling the live fish for supper.

 

Did I ever tell you the one about Matilda catching the song birds in the yard.  She was good and she looked so funny with the tiny black feather sticking from the side of her mouth… kind of made her grin wider and more evil… naughty little cat.

 

Summation – I live in a completely nutso world where things are kind of upside down.  And it is Cold OUTISIDE… brrrrr!

 

~ Murray Lincoln ~

 

Sources:

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/O/ODD_PIERCED_KITTENS?SITE=AP&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT&CTIME=2009-01-22-20-18-05

http://www.peta.org/

 

Differences of Dealing With Death

Warning – this may be too morbid to read at this time!

Most people do not see death the way that I do. Most people are not drawn to death the way that I am. Most people in my city have not been to as many funerals as I have – except my son-in-law Bruce and all his coworkers as funeral directors.

Most people attend few funerals but never go out of their way to do so.

At no place more than a funeral do you learn the great differences that exist in our world over the years and even today. We all bury our dead differently.

In my own family and some others around me – I have witnessed very different customs. One that unnerves me is the taking of photos of the corpse to preserve what they look like. Yes – really it happens. We have done this in our family.

Our custom and comfort with that may come from the Wild West days that some of our family came through – Great Grandfathers etc. When some one was bad and was shot to death… he was placed in a coffin… stood up/propped up for townspeople to have their photo taken beside him.

My… how we have changed. Today we just shoot the corpse with a camera… but the camera tends to take away the makeup and artistry of the embalmer – leaving a too real shot of a dead person.

In our western world we do almost anything to make death nicer and easier to deal with. One comical thing that has often happened is… the person in the coffin looks better than they have for years after the artistic embalmer completed his tasks. (Bruce has assured me he can take off 20 years when I finally go…)

My first contrasts in the death experience happened right here in Canada. From one province to the next we have different customs of dealing with the death. In the west and within certain cultural groups there are at least two church services – on the night before and one the day of the burial.

In certain cultural groups before the body is removed from the church or chapel the audience parades around the waiting corpse and each person kisses the dead loved one – one last time. (Yes – that is Canada… and I didn’t even know the dead person so I exited the church.)

Our life in Hong Kong included many shocks for me.

Nowhere did I feel the greater cultural difference than that of the funeral scene.

The one funeral business that I attended with a friend was a multi storied building – maybe seven floors with elevator accessing each floor. Each floor had about five or six chapels – big and small. Exiting the elevator you found your chapel either left or right. It was like looking for a conference room at a large hotel.

The day we attended our first funeral there was likely more than 30 funerals happening at the same time in the same building. Mourners wore white not black as in Canada – close family members in particular. Upon entrance to the chapel you were given a clean cloth that was damp to wipe your face and a candy to place in your mouth. Following that you walked down a long red carpet to approach the casket and stand quietly, then bow reverently – perhaps kowtowing three times (bowing of the head three times). Next you greeted the seated relatives to your left.

The westerners that read this will see the difference immediately – where we parade by the casket to standing relatives waiting to greet us then talk quietly with each other… a kind of reception so odd to the oriental mind set of Hong Kong.

No place did the contrast happen in a greater way than the place of burial. In Hong Kong most of the graves of people were used for a short 7 years at which time the bones were exhumed, cleaned, counted and placed in a bone bottle.

On one our hikes across an island we walked through the huge graveyard that is primary real-estate on the island. There sitting with a small blue baby bath tub in front of him was a worker wearing, black shorts, a T shirt, black rubber boots, and pink rubber gloves. He was concentrating on his work was he held what I thought was a femur of the deceased person. He was pulling the excess from the bone and washing it clean. His back was towards us and behind him was a pile of bones, ribs, arms, and on top of it was a grinning skull – smiling at us as we passed.

(Sorry for that one – I did warn you earlier.)

I vowed at that moment – just after I snapped a photo – that I would never, ever complain about my job again. Nothing could be a heavier task to accomplish that cleaning a departed person’s bones. And in the Hong Kong way – you were messing with the dude so don’t get it wrong. And wrong could be just leaving some of the bones behind – so yes – they were counted – all of them.

Why take them out of the grave? Well that grave was needed by someone else – starting that afternoon or morning. Think of it as a very busy motel – room service does it task around lunch time and the fresh bed is ready for the afternoon arrival. Which makes sense… most funerals took place in the morning.

Now this whole thread today was started in me after reading the new edition of National Geographic this week. I discovered another very strange culture through this edition. I also discovered why I like being a minister in CANADA and not Palermo, Italy.

Ministers in this area of Italy and in one church in particular featured in the article have to tend to former priest and church related people all the time. In fact today the present clergy sits at the entrance to this special place to collect the entrance fees from tourists that come to look and take photos.

Now – pause for a moment. In Canada the very best that we do in some churches is to have an honor wall where former ministers are hung for all to see. Sorry… that is their photos are hung up for all to see.

Not so in Palermo, Italy. The former ministers, some dating back as far as the 1500s are placed in a gallery kind of area entitled a catacomb – where they rest in peace by standing, hanging from hooks, sitting in boxes, laying in boxes that are open. The photos looking out of the National Geographic are pretty revealing to say the least.

In all of the churches that I pastored except one – I have followed other ministers. In some cases the previous guy was greatly loved and respected. In other cases they were not so loved as they left rather quickly.

But in none of the places I have been have I ever had to deal with the bones let alone the whole body of the previous ministers of that church.

Can you imagine the kind of mentality that thinks keeping the body in all the various stages it goes through until the very end… and looking after it?

Well some of these dear folk couldn’t imagine what we do in dealing with and in our death practices either.

In 2007 I witnessed the way that Kenya deals with death in the city of Nairobi… which is a relatively new city filled with millions of people… that when they die will have to be transported many, many miles back to a rural and isolated village that they originally came from. And that doesn’t take place until the family raises enough money to retrieve the body from the large city morgue(weeks or maybe years)… then purchase a casket and the bus to take the mourners and family 8 to 10 hours away… where the body may be buried sitting up with the head protruding from the ground… with designated family members sitting with the dead love one…. days, weeks… until the loved ones buries them selves slowly in the ground.

(Sorry again… I warned you…)

You can now see how we are so different across our very different worlds.

Yep – I dreamed of all this again this week. Last night there was this odd, older minister grinning down at me when I woke up in my dream. Oh boy. I told the dude that I was retired and his reply was… “Really?”

Sorry I warned you.

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources:
http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2009/02/sicily-crypts/musi-photography

Now why didn’t I think of that!

Now why didn’t I think of that!

I love wood and can make almost anything. But this is one thing that I couldn’t imagine. A Table and Chair that stand over 30 feet high. Wow.

Yes it is real. It was installed in Hampstead Heath, England during the summer of 2005. The artist is Giancarlo Neri from Italy.

The next one came to me via an email sent from a friend. This Italian Artist/ wood carver does the most unusual things in wood. The scope of his work is simply staggering. His name is Livio de Marchi another Italian. Go figure!
His work is absolutely amazing to a fellow wood carver.

But one nagging question - Now why didn’t I think of that!

There is something amazing about a new idea. It is usually triggered by another idea… then time to ruminate on or with that idea… a place to do it in or carry it out… and then the big jump to do it.

Architects do this all the time. The House Builders do a modification of it when they build a house and make the changes to satisfy the home buyer. And a wood carver does it all the time.

Even the wood carver that is just beginning makes that wonderful step from the known to the unknown, from the ordinary to the extra ordinary… when he makes a mistake.

Some of my simple art philosophies I have adopted state…
* Art is a quiet place for a loud idea…
* Art is an idea with a line around it…
* Art is tasting with your eyes, seeing with your hands, feeling with your heart and expressing with your soul…
* Art is a big jump…
… and finally…
* Art is one mistake covering another mistake with enough nerve to charge for it…

Now what is the difference between the artists that I have shared here and me? Not sure exactly except maybe TIME and APPLICATION of one’s life. Add a little “I can do that…”, mixed with “Why not..!” and it is possible.

Now starting 2009 – what have you always dreamed of doing? What is it that you have tucked away for “some day”? Is there anything that just might be if you were to give it a try?

The saddest thing for me is regret. Regret is filled with a whole stack of “what if”, “some day”, “maybe”, “I wish I could” and a million other thoughts that simply died or were shelved for NEVER… IMPOSSIBLE… NOT ME I COULDN’T.

That may be the saddest thing that I have ever witnessed.

Not long ago I conducted a funeral for man I never knew. Yet as I stopped by his home to visit his family I saw the man. He was there by what he did… or had done.

There in his garage was a partially restored antique automobile. He had taken the paint off and repaired the dents and bad spots on the ancient vehicle. It was ready for painting soon.

The son told me that his dad had spent hours on that old thing. He had poured his time and energy into getting this done. But now he was gone.

As we looked at the old vehicle I asked the son what would happen to it. He told me that they had contacted one his dad’s friends who would take it away. Then he said, “None of us as his kids have any inertest in doing anything. We never got what dad had – that “will” to do something out of the ordinary. Dad was one of a kind.”

I couldn’t fathom not passing on what you love to do. Yet that had not happened in this case. None of the kids were interested in anything but their own small world. It may be the most extreme situation that I have ever witnessed.

My question is what happened to creativity? What happened to genius? What happened to “what if?”

I am working on a series of answers with three more planned sculptures. The basis of one is a couple watching a TV forever. That is their Hell. They sit on a couch, stare blandly at a forever screen with nothing on it. Expressions must be nothing – that is the hard part that I am dealing with.

Will it happen? Yes it will. I have six sculptures done so far – only six more to do before the gallery is notified.

I have run out of space. I am struggling with time. But I have not lost the will.

So to answer my own question… “Now why didn’t I think of that?” – I did… and I will… and I am going to… and it will be now!

Today is the start of the rest of my life! And I am gonna… so help me I am just gonna do it! You just watch and see… just watch and see…

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources:
http://www.artnet.de/event/74214/the-writer-giancarlo-neri.html
http://www.craftsmanshipmuseum.com/demarchi.htm

IDIOT AWARDS FOR 2008

This post is not original. A Google Search produced a number of sources – all a little different. I have no way to substantiate the source. Offered here as a source of humour for today. I can do no better … and I think it is down right perfect for a winter’s day in Canada!

~ Murray Lincoln ~

IDIOT AWARDS FOR 2008......
Idiot Number One of 2008

I am a medical student currently doing a rotation in toxicology at the poison control center. Today, this woman called in very upset because she caught her little daughter eating ants. I quickly reassured her that the ants are not harmful and there would be no need to bring her daughter into the hospital. She calmed down and at the end of the conversation happened to mention that she gave her daughter some ant poison to eat in order to kill the ants. I told her that she better bring her daughter into the emergency room right away. Here's your sign, lady. Wear it with pride.

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Idiot Number Two of 2008

Earlier this year, some Boeing employees on the airfield decided to steal a life raft from one of the 747s. They were successful in getting it out of the plane and home. Shortly after they took it for a float on the river, they noticed a Coast Guard helicopter coming towards them.It turned out that the chopper was homing in on the emergency locator beacon that activated when the raft was inflated. They are no longer employed at Boeing. Here's your sign, guys. Don't get it wet; the paint might run.

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Idiot Number Three of 2008

A man, wanting to rob a downtown Bank of America, walked into the Branch and wrote this, 'Put all your muny in this bag.' While standing in line, waiting to give his note to the teller, he began to worry that someone had seen him write the note and might call the police before he reached the teller's window. So he left the Bank of America and crossed the street to the Wells Fargo Bank. After waiting a few minutes in line, he handed his note to the Wells Fargo teller. She read it and, surmising from his spelling errors that he wasn't the brightest light in the harbor, told him that she could not accept his stickup note because it was written on a Bank of America deposit slip and that he would either have to fill out a Wells Fargo deposit slip or go back to Bank of America. Looking somewhat defeated, the man said, 'OK' and left. He was arrested a few minutes later, as he was waiting in line back at Bank of America. Don't bother with this guy's sign. He probably couldn't read it anyway.

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Idiot Number Four of 2008

A motorist was unknowingly caught in an automated speed trap that; measured his speed using radar and photographed his car. He later received in the mail a ticket for $ 40 and a photo of his car. Instead of payment, he sent the police department a photograph of $40.Several days later, he received a letter from the police that contained another picture, this time of handcuffs. He immediately mailed in his $40. Wise guy........ But you still get a sign

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Idiot Number Five of 2008

A guy walked into a little corner store with a shotgun and demanded all of the cash from the cash drawer. After the cashier put the cash in a bag, the robber saw a bottle of Scotch that he wanted behind the counter on the shelf. He told the cashier to put it in the bag as well, but the cashier refused and said, 'Because I don't believe you are over 21.'The robber said he was, but the clerk still refused to give it to him because she didn't believe him. At this point, the robber took his driver's license out of his wallet and gave it to the clerk. The clerk looked it over and agreed that the man was in fact over 21 and she put the Scotch in the bag. The robber then ran from the store with his loot.The cashier promptly called the police and gave the name and address of the robber that he got off the license. They arrested the robber two hours later. This guy definitely needs a sign.

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Idiot Number Six of 2008

A pair of Michigan robbers entered a record shop nervously waving revolvers. The first one shouted, ' Nobody move!' When his partner moved, the startled first bandit shot him. This guy doesn't even deserve a sign

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Idiot Number Seven of 2008

Arkansas: Seems this guy wanted some beer pretty badly. He decided that he'd just throw a cinder block through a liquor store window, grab some booze, and run. So he lifted the cinder block and heaved it over his head at the window. The cinder block bounced back knocking him unconscious. It seems the liquor store window was made of Plexi-Glass. The whole event was caught on videotape. Yep, here's your sign

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Idiot Number Eight of 2008

I live in a semi-rural area. (Weyauwega, Wisconsin) We recently had a new neighbor call the local township administrative office to request the removal of the Deer Crossing sign on our road. The reason: 'Too many deer are being hit by cars out here! - I don't think this is a good place for them to be crossing anymore.'

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(Please note that all of the above people are allowed to vote)

STAY ALERT!They walk among us.

Blue Hairs

The guy on the scooter should have known better. When the car turned into his pathway on that street – he should have been wary of what was going down.

In one terrible moment he was launched from his scooter through the air. He flew a few feet and then landed with a thud on the windshield of the automobile. But it wasn’t over. He either slid off or tried to crawl off the hood of the automobile as it continued to move. His departure from the hood of the car gave him further injury as he rolled to the street.

Bruised, dazed and hurting badly he sat on the pavement a while to recover. The vehicle behind slowed and stopped to see if he was okay.

His scooter was a mess and wouldn’t be taking him anywhere. Police and ambulance were called by the people that were looking on.

With a description of the hit and run driver and a brief description of the vehicle that included some physical damage with denting on the hood and a possible windshield broken the car should have been easy to find.

It was. The police found the silver Toyota at a hairdresser’s shop when the woman driving came out after her hair appointment.

You see the silver Toyota was driven by a 77 year old woman that had a hair appointment. And there was nothing, come hell or high water, that would stop her from keeping that appointment. She nearly killed a man that got in the way of her getting there on time. She should have stopped… but that hair appointment could not be missed. Even committing a hit and run, major offense, was not to get in the way of the precious hair appointment.

“Blue Hairs”, my sister calls them, are a breed all of their own. The “he” has a bright silver hair or maybe none. “She” has a carefully manicured head covered with silvery blue hair that has been sculpt by a wonderful hair dresser back home.

My sister is a nurse practitioner in the Yukon. She sees “Blur Hairs” rolling through their town in their large motor homes. The little silver or blue haired folk are diminutive behind the steering wheels and in contrast to the mega windshield that they look out front. She is amazed that they are allowed to still drive these moving monsters so far north. Truckers are on the watch for them all the time.

But there is something that you cannot deny. A moving senior is something to be contended with and watched out for. There is nothing that is more important than them getting to where they need to be. It is an internal, nuclear force that says, “Get out of my %@&& way!”

Though the story that I read didn’t tell all that happened in Boynton Beach, Florida that day I can guess the rest. As the police herded the 77 year old lady out from her car and into the back of theirs, they were careful not to touch her hair. The jingle of her bangles and bracelets could be heard before they closed the back door of the cruiser.

Too funny… the two burly cops pulling away with their catch in the back. “Where do you boys live? I live over near the beach. My sons are going to be so upset with me. What have I done? Oh my…”

You will never find a silver haired man missing his hair appointment. He just never makes one. Whoever heard of such a stupid thing… book an appointment for a hair cut? Sheesh! That is not a thing that a man would do – plain and simple! If he did he would miss all the news and the lingering ambience in the local barber shop… all the banter that goes on and the jokes that are told as he waits for his turn in the chair.

His wife on the other hand has fussed and fumed for hours. Ever since she got up in the morning getting ready for her hair appointment things have been – well - different. He has driven her to that precious appointment for 44 years, once a week – to the same hairdresser’s shop for the exact same hair do.

And he NEVER gets a hair cut on THAT DAY!

At the end of our street…
There is a hairdresser at the end of our street that performs these ongoing, forever hairdos. She is the daughter of the lady that once owned the shop. Their clientele does go back for more than four decades. Every day there are “regulars” that come in for their “weekly”. Every week there are faithful men dropping off “Blue Hairs”(not totally accurate – some are pinkish, some are silver, some are a fake light brown and very thin) that are getting done over and over and over and over… then ready for their shopping trip that day.

The question is simple really. When did this insanity of hair dressing take over people’s lives?

I mean it is not a “man thing” to do. Men would never do that. Real men wait for their turn. And if it is busy they simply tell the barber that they will come back later. No big deal.

I think it happens in a panicky and horrible moment very early the day of their wedding. The hairdresser is more important than GOD… and all the guests. But you better NOT BE LATE FOR THAT APPOINTMENT on THAT DAY. Three or six or ten beauties come in there duds and are made super beautiful for one day. Then from that time on – that cotton picking hairdresser has control over every woman! It must be when it happens. I can’t find any other reason that has that hold on a woman.

But… get in the way of a 77 year old woman that is scheduled for a hair appointment and watch out – your life could be in jeopardy. Ask the dude sitting off the scooter and on the pavement if that aint so.

I have two women in our house that both go to the hairdresser at the end of the street. One of these women must have a bath and get all prettied up before she goes for her appointment the next day. Too funny – but don’t get in the way. Just don’t get in the way!

Hey scooter dude – I feel for you and have great sympathy. I really do!

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090117/ap_on_fe_st/odd_hair_appointment_crash

President Ronald Reagan has Lost His Brain

“President Regan has lost his brain!” In the following scenes you would see a rubber brain moving along the floor…hiding under the couch, slipping from room to room. The President kept working and talking as usual – but definitely without a brain.

So do you remember that scene? Do you remember what TV program developed the idea that the President had no brain or had lost his brain? Do you remember the irreverence that this TV program treated everything?

Do you remember what country was the most picked on beside that of Ronald Reagan’s? Do you remember any of this?

No?

Do you remember what you had for supper last night? Do you remember what the news was last Monday – one week ago today?

No?

Then there is a strong indication that you have mild to severe dementia of some sort.

Really? Yep… sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news… but you may well be in trouble with your memory.

A little more testing… what was the name of the President that lost his brain? What country did that TV program originate in? What did the president lose?

Over the years I have heard of dozens of reasons that people have dementia. What is dementia? You don’t know?

One of the first reasons that were given during my days of Gerontology Studies was aluminum. Aluminum was found in everything at that stage. All of our pots and pans were made of some form of Aluminum. We wrapped our food in it. Our deodorants had a strong form of Aluminum in them and many were absolutely convinced they would rather smell bad than have no memory.

Beside the environmental causes which were many, there was the “lack of stimulation” cause that was offered. You know “use it or lose it” idea. People that sat in front of TVs too much were likely the ones that had lost their brains. People that had less education lost theirs. People that had too much education lost their’s faster. And anyone that had acted on TV or Movies – definitely had lost their brains… i.e. Ronald Regan.

The date when Ronald Reagan lost his brain was between 1984 to 1996. Does that help? Now that dating is outside the normal short term memory – and we are getting into mid to long term memory… are you okay? Why are you shaking?

Back to dementia…
“Everyone has some form of it” – was another comforting statement that was “mediaized” not long ago. If you cannot find your keys, lost something and then can’t remember what you were doing when you lost that something – you are likely dementia bound.

The latest – today I read it – published on January 16, 2009 – so it is right up to date… and the title of the report article states…
“Coffee Strong Enough to Ward Off Dementia?”
Moderate Coffee Drinking Reduces Risk of Dementia and Alzheimer’s by 65% in Study

Imagine – middle age people were studied and it was found that…
Those who drank three to five cups of coffee per day in midlife were much less likely to have developed dementia or Alzheimer's in follow-up checks two decades or more later, the researchers say in the January issue of the Journal of Alzheimer's Disease.

The study was conducted in Finland and Sweden… somewhere along ways from here… that I don’t know about… so therefore it must be true…

One study indicated that in Canada – in 1991 the prevalence of Dementia was 250 in 1000 – in 2009 it is now 425 and by 2031 it could be 800 in 1000. The suggested group is people over 65 years of age.

Sobering thoughts on the short term.

What was that President’s name? Why am I thinking of a President now in this article? What did we eat for supper on Saturday night? Why am I sweating so profusely? Someone said something about a brain… was that about a brain tumor… or a brain stroke… what was that about a brain?

Imagine someone said that if you drink coffee – probably STRONG COFFEE it will help your memory…. Or something about forgetting… I think that is what was said.

Imagine… or think about it… in 2009 according to the study 425 people out every 1000 have memory issues… that is like four people sitting in a restaurant eating together and one for sure cannot remember where he parked his car… and the second one cannot remember where his keys are – which pocket… or what he ate for supper last night… the other two are making notes all the time to remind themselves of what they are to do today…. and one carries a notebook so he can flip back to yesterday to let you know what he had for supper….

All of them now are drinking coffee – two cups at each meal, one for coffee break in the morning and two in the afternoon coffee break. Three cups with the evening meal and one before bedtime. Then they all have sleep issues that they need medication for… But none of them can remember why the girl that served them at the counter remembers their names so well. Is she someone’s daughter that we should know?

Tomorrow they will install a new President in the USA. The last one has lost his Brain. That is what this report is all about that I just read. I am sure of it.

What do you mean that this article is rambling and not making sense?

Well my friend – let me tell you a thing or two… that rubber brain was part of one of the best TV shows ever out of Britain – it was called Spitting Image – and had Adolf Hitler living next door to Margaret Thatcher – he lived at Number 9 Downing Street and she at Number 10 – his name “Herr Jeremy”… and Margaret Thatcher’s character stood up to use the urinal… and was very bossy… and the politicians that followed Margaret were simply not that funny to make fun of – and the show died…

Hey have a great day… remembering….

Take a look at http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=a1jQdY3vfkc (this is Part 1 of 7 videos too funny)

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources:
http://www.webmd.com/alzheimers/news/20090116/coffee-strong-enough-to-ward-off-dementia
http://www.emedicinehealth.com/dementia_overview/page2_em.htm#Dementia%20Causes
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spitting_Image
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/studies-etudes/82-003/archive/1996/2826-eng.pdf

The Turkmenian Markhor is Dead

Okay Okay – I think I am ready for this one.

The zoo enclosure cage is empty. The Turkmenian Markhor is dead. How will I deal with it?

The encyclopedia states that… this largest goat…
Capra falconeri, found in the rugged mountains of central Asia, from S Russia to the W Himalayas. Largest of the goats, the male may stand over 40 in. (100 cm) at the shoulder and weigh over 200 lb (90 kg). The coat is short and reddish brown in summer; in winter it is long, silky, and gray. Males have long, thick beards. The distinctive corkscrew-shaped horns are extremely thick and heavy. Markhors live in small herds of between 4 and 30 individuals, grazing up to the snow line.

For me – the Goat is the one that has the gnarly head set on… the males likely have my hunting friends wishing they had them on the wall.

The fact that I know about the Turkmenian Markhor being dead happened because another animal rights group based in based in California is upset about it. It was reported in the Calgary Herald that the group is upset that the Turkmenian Markhor died in the Calgary Zoo.

Catherine Doyle, from this “in defense of animals group”, made the comment that they are happy that the Turkmenian Markhor had a toy to play with in its pen. Actually the wording was – she -
“commended the zoo for using play toys that provide enrichment, but noted there is tubing and hosing available to cover ropes and prevent such accidents.”

I am sorry… but this is Canada. It is cold. It is not California. It is Calgary where it happened and that is in Canada… and it is cold here! Maybe the Turkmenian Markhor committed suicide.

No – the reports show that it some how was strangled with a toy in its pen. Some how it fell down and died.

Now they are having an autopsy – called a post mortem – to determine its death.

This is a sure footed goat that walks on mountains and rocks and stuff… and it died from a fall? Come on it is C-O-L-D in Canada and even goats get cabin fever. Maybe it couldn’t take it anymore?

Can you see where I am going with this? It is a dumb story. And even in Calgary with its winter season being almost as cold as the rest of us – they are bored too.

Goats are bored. Reporters are bored. So are people that live in Canada….

I watched an American TV program that was advertising its normal amount of stuff to entice people in between the show’s program pieces. Up on to the screen pops an advertisement to come to Calgary, for winter sports and stuff… then it showed the wonderful mountains and the stuff that you could do in Calgary!!! Wahoooo!

But Calgary’s Turkmenian Markhor is dead for Pete’s sake.

I come from rural roots. I come from a FARM HERITAGE and I am proud of it. But with that heritage comes the knowledge of the farm. Two things were true on the farm – you lived or you died. The animals lived or they died.

Yes the farm did love their animals and take care of them. But the animals didn’t need toys to play with. They were animals… not like your kids… they didn’t get a Christmas Present at Christmastime… they were fed that day – that was necessary.

Have you noticed in the grocery store that there are two whole aisles dedicated to Pet Food and Pet Stuff. No kidding about 25% of a normal grocery store is dedicated to animal’s welfare. Check the prices out someday. It is wild.

We as humans are really strange. We fixate on strange stuff.

Oddly enough as I was checking the news out today… the new president of the USA will be installed on Tuesday… they love him today – but as the 4 years and then the possible 8 years goes by they – the press and the people will hate his guts – just like Bush.

Across the page from the report about the Turkmenian Markhor – the Israelis have stopped their attacks on the Gaza for now – but the rockets are still flying across the fences.

There are strikes for more money… people being arrested for murder… suspicious fires… too many winter fires…lots of lives lost… and on and on…

And a Turkmenian Markhor is dead.

The Turkmenian Markhor is dead – so get another Turkmenian Markhor…if you need one. Don’t make such a big deal out of nothing. This is Canada… it is cold… it is winter and it is long. Let’s get on with it.

Wahoo I killed a mouse in my garage. He came looking for and smelling the peanut butter in the trap. Nope – I don’t feel one bit guilty. But did the News Media pick that one up…? Nope The Turkmenian Markhor is dead.

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources:
http://www.encyclopedia.com/topic/markhor.aspx
http://www.canada.com/calgaryherald/news/story.html?id=f6d66257-a24f-4fe5-ba04-1694521c8bab