Bad Words and Reality Shows

 I don't watch reality shows because I don't believe in their reality.
That said, while recently channel surfing I happened upon one, then another reality show that was disappointing in its, well, reality dialogue.

An abundance of beeps highlighted the dialogue of both shows. Often the beeps outnumbered the words, so the viewer must decipher/read lips/guess the conversation.

I know a beep could have masked the A-word, the B-word, the C-word, the D-word the E-word... (well, maybe not E). However, I get the sense that the F-word won the count.

I don't completely disapprove of the F-bomb, as it's often called when used in an "oops" moment by politicians and celebrities. It's an effective word that gets to the nitty-gritty of the matter. Psychologists at a British university did a study which found the use of expletives strengthens one's endurance to pain.

Yes indeed. Stub a toe and find out how true that is.

However, I find that overuse dilutes the effectiveness of any cuss word. To me less is more. I'd rather see a show with a few bombs used in strategic--shall we say explosive--moments instead of tossed away like fluff in every other sentence.

Ditto in books. If I read a book in which a character goes overboard with the reality dialogue, it becomes a big yawn. But a judiciously placed pained/frightened/horrified/grievous/excited detonation bursts off the page and gives an effective single-word stress moment to a most dire (or alternately, most loving) event.

Disclaimer: Some fictional characters are defined by the language they use, so it's necessary to salt their dialogue in an appropriate manner. Some real people, too, have a limited vocabulary and can best express themselves by fixing on the single descriptive word they know.

That's reality for you.

~

Bad words

My five year old grandson on a recent visit learned a new bad word.

It was unintentional.

I don't know what tv show he was watching, but he said, in true five-year-old righteous fashion, "That's dickless!'

Uncle, knowing the boy's mother would never abide her child using such language, kindly took him aside and told him dickless was a bad word that should never be repeated.

Grandson looked perplexed. Could it be that other members of his family used this vulgar term?

He agreed never to say it again.

Later, Uncle told the boy's mother about the event.

She laughed and laughed. Uncle was now puzzled.

It was the boy's way of saying ridiculous.

Uncle, no doubt slapping the side of his head and calling himself a dickless wonder, had to admit to the boy he'd been mistaken about the word, it wasn't bad at all, etc.

No doubt Grandson was even more puzzled by this revelation.

He probably doesn't know any true bad words.

Give him a few years.

Learning the language is like a rite of puberty. And reality tv.

--Cat

The River God

It snowed today. Snowed!

On unseasonably cold days like today I'm reminded wistfully of the time two summers ago when I saw the River God in the (total) flesh.

Nikomekl River

There's a shortcut we take driving home over a one way bridge on the Nikomekl River, a placid little stream that flows to the sea. As this is in a tidal area, the bridge is part dam, opening and closing for flood control and to allow fish to travel up and downstream.

Until that particular day we had seen only the odd seal swimming in the lower part. One warm evening when the sun was low in the western sky, we were halfway across the bridge when "he" unexpectedly appeared.

First there were hands on the concrete wall that served as a railing. Then arms, a head, dark hair streaming rivulets of water. His muscles strained as he pulled himself up to the top of the rail. And there he stood in all his brazen glory, a handsome Adonis maybe in his mid-twenties, shaking water droplets from his hair and body, laughing, as gods might, at the stupefied expressions on the mortals' faces.

We did not stop--there were cars before and behind ours--but I can still hear the laughter floating in the golden air, both his and a split-second later that of all who'd been startled by this apparition.

Yeah, yeah, it was probably like my husband said, buff young guys playing a prank, or carrying out a dare.

I prefer to believe I saw the River God.

--Cat

Backyard Coyotes

 My husband came in last night and said he heard the neighborhood owl hooting. The owl is big and beautiful, white or gray, and has been around for some months, probably because to him this neighborhood is like a smorgasbord--all his favorite dishes can be found.

The owl's spooky who-who-who certainly invokes shivers. And we talked about the times we camped in the wilderness and at night heard owls and coyotes. Such lovely times.

Hah, my husband said, we hear owls and coyotes here all the time.

Of course, that's true. Wilderness, it seems, has come to the city.

And it's justified, right? We encroached on their lands, so they return the favor. Only they have no chance here.

Not long ago we saw two coyotes just outside our back yard, warming themselves in a sunny spot in the greenbelt. I wanted to write a poem about them, about how wrong it was for wild animals to pad along concrete streets, they should be free, yadda, yadda, yadda. I planned to write it in the style of a sonnet.

Well, there are sonneteers.
And then there's me.

But I will prevail.

Here are the first few lines I wrote:

City Coyotes

Beyond the fence, beyond the grass-banked stream,
I saw coyotes bask in morning sun.
They slept until the warming light was done,
Then wakened from their atavistic dream.
Their slitted eyes stared at encircling homes,
At fences slicing land that once was free.
Yet I believe their hearts can only be
On ranges where their untamed cousin roams.


A picture of the backyard coyotes:



-- Cat    first posted in 2007

Television nostalgia

 I originally published this on the blog in May, 2007. I smiled reading it again. So it's here!

 Note: Some people use capital letters when abbreviating the word television, but my use of small letters explains my regard, or lack thereof, of the medium.

Some years ago I read that to be a true tv snob you must watch all of the programs, or none of them.

The former being impossible for me, I chose the latter.

For a long time I watched nothing, and whenever someone said, "Did you catch X on tv last night?" I could honestly reply, in true tv snob fashion, "Oh, I don't watch television."

There were occasional inroads. My daughter, working nights at the time, watched afternoon soap operas and I began watching The Young and the Restless with her. I still watch to this day, and make no excuses for doing so.

Then there were shows like ER and NYPD Blue. I loved the tension of those early ER shows. I will always remember one episode where at the climax I burst into tears. A movie, tv show, or book that makes me cry has rare power. That episode was, for me, an "eleven." (on a scale of one to ten....)

I stopped watching ER when it became too depressing for me. NYPD Blue, though I watched, and enjoyed, from beginning to end.

At one time my desk sat in a large room that also had a tv set. For a time I shunned that tv set, though I only had to look slightly to the side to see it. Then I discovered British mystery series on A & E.

What a wonderful variety! I watched them all: Prime Suspect, A Touch of Frost, Inspector Morse, Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot, Sherlock Holmes, Lovejoy, Dalgliesh, Inspector Alleyn, Brother Cadfael, Ruth Rendel Mysteries, the gritty Cracker--my favorite. (perhaps others I've forgotten...)

Alas, we moved and things changed, my ability to view these shows while I worked at my computer came to a regrettable end.

But then came the autumn of 2000, the autumn of the Olympics in Sydney, the autumn of Who Wants to be a Millionaire, the autumn I spent several weeks in a hospital.

Almost overnight I went from tv snob to tv slob.

I watched EVERYTHING that was on. All the game shows, all the sitcoms, all the dramas: Cops shows, lawyer shows: Ally McBeal, The Practice, Family Law, scenic shows, e.g. Baywatch! on and on ad nauseam. The good, the bad, and the really ugly, it made no difference to me, I was passing time and for once in my life had not the will to read. (As if that were some sacred act not to be performed in the mundane setting of a hospital.)

My tv extravaganza came to an end when I came home. I tried to keep up with some of the better shows, but my interest soon waned. I had no patience left for silly sitcoms, though I always made time for Frasier.

Now I've come to that point where I recall important times of my life by the tv shows I watched. Who can forget the summer of 1980 when Who shot JR? was a question that held an entire continent in thrall? (This, before my tv snob days!) And how about the years I spent watching Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers with the young ones?

I remember books I've read, some the age I was when I read them The same with movies. But television goes farther than that. Because of the nature of the beast, the long running shows mark a passage of time, for some the change of an era. My son was a kid when he began watching The Simpsons in 1989. Almost 18 years later he still watches it when he can. Heavens, I aged 12 years during the course of NYPD Blue.

And now this entry, like a tv show that's been on too long, is losing it's original intent. I digress easily when it comes to this subject. I'm not qualified to criticize tv shows. I know what I like, what I find good. What others like, and watch, is their call.

I will admit there's lots that good. Even fascinating. But more that's bad. Even plain stupid. Would I miss it if it vanished?

I honestly think not.

--Cat

If Only…

 

 Yes, I like Tony Bennett.

Was listening tonight to THE ULTIMATE TONY. The lovely words to If I Ruled The World*, seem to have come from another century. Well, they ARE from another century. But then, they could just as easily apply to this century, this year.

*written in 1963 (thanks for finding the date, Gloria!)

Tony Bennett

IF I RULED THE WORLD

Words by Leslie Bricusse/Music by Cyril Ornadel, 1963

If I ruled the world, every day would be the first day of spring
Every heart would have a new song to sing
And we'd sing of the joy every morning would bring

If I ruled the world, every man would be as free as a bird,
Every voice would be a voice to be heard
Take my word we would treasure each day that occurred

My world would be a beautiful place
Where we would weave such wonderful dreams
My world would wear a smile on its face
Like the man in the moon has when the moon beams

If I ruled the world every man would say the world was his friend
There'd be happiness that no man could end
No my friend, not if I ruled the world
Every head would be held up high
There'd be sunshine in everyone's sky
If the day ever dawned when I ruled the world

~

One can always dream.

--Cat

The more life changes…

 The more t stays the same.

 [I published this in November, 2006. And now, almost 18 years later, what has changed? It's gotten worse. That's what!]

Two recent articles on the CBC News website caught my attention, simply for the absurdity of placement.

More working poor using food banks: study
November 28, 2006 | 12:05 PM ET
CBC News

BMO sets profit record despite fourth-quarter weakness
Last Updated: Tuesday, November 28, 2006 | 12:01 PM ET
CBC News

I've posted the articles below, with pictures I've found. Exaggerations, maybe. Maybe not.

The Potato Eaters, 1885
by Vincent van Gogh (1853 - 1890)

More working poor using food banks: study
November 28, 2006 | 12:05 PM ET
CBC News

More people with jobs are relying on food banks despite an 8.5 per cent drop in overall use, says the Canadian Association of Food Banks.

According to the group's HungerCount 2006 report released on Tuesday, the percentage of food bank clients who are working is 13.4 per cent, up from 13.1 per cent last year.

The survey says the "working poor" continue to comprise the second largest group of food bank clients after social assistance recipients, who account for 53.5 per cent of clients across the country.

"People like you and I, people working, can't manage to feed their families," said CAFB executive director Charles Seiden.

"Low wages may be only one of several factors contributing to the working poor phenomenon in Canada. But the fact that real wages in the country have not improved over the last several years tells us that our leaders have neglected the country's labour rights and standards."

The study also showed children account for 41 per cent of the estimated 753,458 food bank clients, although they make up only about a quarter of the country's population.
Continue Article

Seiden said food bank use has risen 99 per cent since 1989, when the first food bank study was conducted.

Government must step in: Seiden

He called on the government develop policies to strengthen income and employment security and help Canadian families with housing and day care.

The CAFB represents food banks and food distribution centres across the country, serving 90 per cent of the people who use emergency food programs in Canada.

Other findings include:

* Highest provincial per capital food bank use: Newfoundland (5.6 per cent).
* Province assisting the largest share of food bank recipients: Ontario (330,491).
* Percentage of food banks with difficulty meeting demand:34.per cent.
* Years since the federal government promised to eliminate child poverty: 17.

~In Canada, a land of plenty, people can't feed, house or clothe their families. We have a large homeless population, not just junkies and binners who like the life, but poor people who cant' find that elusive thing called a home. Rather shameful. I blame Wal-Mart.

~~

The following painting depicts US senators deciding where all the money will be spent. I think it perfectly represents our banking hierarchy deciding how to milk more dollars from the customers. A pretty painting, but not a pretty picture.

Spending Uncle Sam's Money ca. 1899
by T. Dart Walker (1869 - 1914)

BMO sets profit record despite fourth-quarter weakness
Last Updated: Tuesday, November 28, 2006 | 12:01 PM ET
CBC News

BMO Financial Group set several new records in 2006, as profits rose by 11 per cent to $2.66 billion or $5.15 a share, despite a weaker business environment in the fourth quarter.

The bank raised its quarterly dividend by three cents, or 33 per cent over the year, to 65 cents a share, giving a triumphal farewell for Tony Comper, who will retire in March after eight years as chief executive officer.

BMO three-month tradingBMO three-month trading

He will be replaced by Bill Downe, currently chief operating officer.

BMO, which trades as the Bank of Montreal, was the first of Canada's big-six chartered banks to reports its results for the 2006 fiscal year.

The 2006 fiscal year ended on Oct. 31.

Comper seemed pleased with the results, BMO's fourth consecutive year of record results.
Continue Article

"It was a good year overall," he announced Tuesday morning, noting that all three operating groups delivered a record net income for the second year in a row, while the bank met or exceeded four of its five performance targets for the year.

The bank missed one of its key targets, improvements in cash productivity, because of its continued investment in retail businesses and a change in the business mix.

The bank set the records despite a difficult operating environment. But Comper said "favourable income taxes" and low credit losses in the fourth quarter helped the bank maintain a strong financial performance.

For the fourth quarter, the bank reported net income of $696 million, up $32 million or 4.8 per cent, with a return on equity of 19.4 per cent, down from 20.0 per cent. Revenue declined by 5.9 per cent, and expenses by 0.9 per cent.

The bank was hit hard in the U.S. market in the fourth quarter, where the income of the Personal and Commercial Banking division fell by $11 million to $23 million due to a weaker U.S. dollar, the cost of integrating acquisitions and expensive technology improvements in its branches.

Income of the bank's Private Client Group rose by 12 per cent to $12 million, excluding gains on asset sales in 2005, due to higher mutual fund fees and interest revenues.

The bank expects moderate growth in the Canadian economy in 2007. The Canadian housing market is expected to slow as past increases in interest rates dampen sales and construction. But business investment is expected to remain strong, due to continued healthy gains in corporate profits.

The U.S. economy is also expected to grow moderately in 2007, boosted by a drop in energy prices. Mortgage rates will keep a damper on the housing market, but business loans are expected to grow.

Shareholders seemed unimpressed with the results. Company shares fell by $1.22 to $70.29 on the Toronto Stock Exchange by late morning.
Related
Internal Links

TSX:BMO
BMO Q3 earnings up 30 per cent

~

I don't understand why shareholders seemed unimpressed. Can they be so blasé that million dollar record profits no longer excite them? Oh, I get it -- share prices fell.

Lest anyone think otherwise, I do believe in free enterprise. I also believe in compassion. Maybe you can't have both.

--Cat

capturing dreams

[this was first published June 5, 2007 – uses for dreams]

 

We were talking about dreams, my husband and I, the kind you have when you sleep. I said it would be neat if there was a way to project the dreams onto the ceiling.  

So you could watch them, he said. No, I said. So you could watch them. (I have some very interesting dreams.)  

Taking it a step further, we could record the good ones for later viewing. One could have a whole library of dreams. Like books, like DVDs.  

Laugh all you like. Scientists may be working on this right now. We'd all become micro-movie makers. Surreal movies, for most dreams are just that. And the Academy Award for dreams goes to .... --Cat 

Magic Moment!

 Here we have another magic moment!

            2/22/2022    2:22    a.m.

--Cat

Happy New Year!

                                     Welcome 2022!

So they've learned how to dance. What's next?

Fun and kind of creepy!

 

 

--Cat

Yet Another Theory

I've been thinking… [oh-oh]

This has been a bad year. Well, that's an understatement.  I won't do details, we all know where we are.

So, this theory is that it's all in the numbers.

This is a "4" year. Most East Asian cultures [Chinese, Japanese, Korean...] believe this number is unlucky. Apparently the way they pronounce "4" is close or identical to the pronunciation of "death."

This tetraphobia is so common in China that most elevators will not include the number, nor will license plates, house numbers, phone numbers, and many other official and unofficial items.

We can't really compare such a reaction to the Western belief that "13" is an unlucky number. Although I did once work in a building on the 14th floor, then realized I was actually on the 13th floor BECAUSE the elevator did not show the number 13!

Now I don't know if I should worry or wonder – I was born in a "4" year! Has this number dictated my life? Should I be glad that I stand outside of these Asian cultures?

I turned to Western numerology, where the number 4 is considered a friendly, life affirming number, a much nicer belief, but one that doesn't quite match up to this 4 year.

Now we look forward to the year 2021, a "5" year. From what I could find, it stands for stability, curiosity, freedom, change... A better year on the horizon!

And I need to finish this now and publish it while it still is Friday the 13th!

Am I a superstitious fool? Well, coming from a family who for many years believed strongly in numerology, numbers intrigue me. Do I believe in this? That's a question for the ages.

--Cat

Goodbye, Alex

 RIP Alex Trebek

July 22, 1940 – November 8, 2020)

Miss you already!

Special effects

Enjoy these extra special effects!


 


--Cat

Musical interlude

Discovered on the Internet:

Remember Mama Mia by ABBA?
Here's a timely take on the song by a group of New Zealand singers, The Starlets:







And although I don't like to get political, this is another timely song,









A great rendition of Lean On Me by many terrific Canadians!





--Cat

Mother Earth Speaks

Okay, listen up Earth People.

Stop blaming one country or another for this latest disaster.

Seven billion of you. Yeah, I feel you stomping, running, tapping, pounding, drilling, hacking, blasting… Seeking what? My heart? My soul? No.

It's all about greed. The shiny stuff: gold, silver, diamonds, emeralds, precious metals and precious stones. And of course, Oil.

I'm so tired of it all.

And when Mother Earth gets weary, she gives back as good as she gets.

Why do you think there are Volcanoes? Earthquakes? Oil spills? Cave-ins?

[Don't ask me about hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, droughts, floods, heat waves – talk to Mother Nature about those. She has a completely different agenda.]

See what I'm getting at? I have so many people-created drill holes and mine shafts it's a wonder I don't collapse like a punctured balloon.

How many toxic dumps have been created for the excess waste?

How many once pristine lakes and rivers have been fouled?

How many people can light candles whenever they turn on a faucet?

How much plastic has entered my ocean to be ingested by sea creatures and ultimately by you people? One day you're going to bleed plastic.

How about that air? You think it was always polluted and brown?

Think about it. How many cities are seeing a clear sky for the first time in years? How many urban rivers are enjoying a resurgence of fish and other river dwellers. Some rarely seen birds have returned to the cities.

I hear more bees and butterflies have been sighted, when both have been severely depleted these last few years. And what's this about wild animals reclaiming their turf? It's about time isn't it?

Maybe these animals, birds, insects etc. are all laughing, or at least smiling because so many Earth People are in a lockup situation, not unlike the zoos, cages, and aquariums that confined them for centuries.

So, all right, Mother Earth and Mother Nature are finally taking a breath. Or two. And sharing a chuckle. After all, isn't it true that those greedy oil producers are now paying out money [instead of raking it in] to get rid of their surplus "black gold"?

Isn't it ironic?


**
 
 
 Someone speculated that a tablespoonful of tainted cosmic dust from a galaxy
far, far away swirled through space and spilled onto the earth, scattering Corona particles like a fine mist. Earthlings, having no immunity, picked up, or breathed in these particles and ran with them. Or I should say flew all over the world, scattering them to friends and enemies alike.

**

--Cat

Video discovery

I came across this video, "The Evolution of Dance." Great music and great dancing. Almost like the story of my life.




-- Cat

Jake makes a commercial!

My 15-year-old grandson Jake and some friends recently made a commercial for a school project. Maybe they all have a future in the film business? [Jake is the star of the show.]






--Cat

Another magic moment

Here it is: 12/12 12:12

Remembrance day

In Flanders Fields

BY JOHN MCCRAE

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

    That mark our place; and in the sky

    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

    The torch; be yours to hold it high.

    If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.

·         

·         

·         

·         --Cat

·         

Observations

Wonderful to see so many young people demonstrating for the world. Kudos to Greta Thunberg, the amazing sixteen-year-old Swedish girl behind this climate change activism.

Her passionate speech before the UN Assembly calls out and rightly shames the culprits, the greedy industrialists, the science deniers who refuse to stop pillaging the earth and won't stop spewing harmful emissions into the air. Our air, the one we all must breathe.

The environmental concern of global warming got everyone's attention in 2006 -- 13 years ago! -- with Al Gore's book and documentary An Inconvenient Truth. Nearly a generation has passed since then, and things have only gotten worse. You wonder what is it going to take to spur people to action.

If Al Gore couldn't wake people up, then Greta Thunberg and her generation will. I want to believe this, so that the world I knew will still be there for my grandchildren.

Makes you wonder whatever happened to the Woodstock generation, the young people who protested against the Vietnam War. Fifty years older now, they seem to have lost their determination and passion.  Aren't they worried about the future of the earth? Is it because now they're comfortable with their lives and don't want to rock the boat in case their gas and oil stocks lose value?

So the deniers, the investors, let's face it, the ignorant, would just let Doomsday happen.

Speaking of which, I was watching a repeat of Criminal Minds the other day. The team was investigating a doomsday cult, and one of the characters said  people with vision problems need to get laser surgery because, well, it was doubtful LensCrafters would be in business after the apocalypse.

And that took me back many years to an episode of The Twilight Zone, where a meek character, reading in the vault of the bank he works at, survives a nuclear war that destroys the world. He searches the ruined city and discovers a library still standing. Bookworm that he is, he's thrilled that he'll be able to read for the rest of his life. Then the other shoe drops: his thick glasses shatter. He's nearly blind without them. The end. [Sad and cruel. Eager reader that I am, this story has haunted me for years.]

Makes me think of science fiction movies of the past and how many of them foretold the future, usually a sad, cruel future.

Right now hamburger meat is being replaced by vegetable matter. Can anyone else see where this is going? Does Soylent Green ring a bell? 

And what about 1984? "Big brother is watching." Yep. It's already begun, hasn't it? We have Smart Houses. Smart TVs. Smart refrigerators. Smart phones. Wonderful conveniences that do everything for us, as they keep tabs on what we're doing and saying. Cameras on every street, in every building, in drones, etc. But what if you want privacy? 

We rely so much on technology--our houses can be wired so that we only need to say, "Alexa, turn on my light. Play my music. Call my father. Turn up the heat. Close the door, open the window, yada yada yada…

Computers with artificial intelligence will run the world. Our brains will atrophy because we won't need to use them anymore. I think I'll call my computer assistant when I finally get one, "Hal." 

Before I took this trip down TV and movie memory lane, I was applauding the girl who had the guts and brains to stand up for the future of the earth and its inhabitants. Greta Thurnberg is my kind of hero. 
.
"...and a child shall lead..." 


--Cat