Areas of Unrest

QOTD: "Hollywood is the kind of town where they stick a knife in your backand then arrest you for carrying a concealed weapon." - Raymond Chandler

Reading: James Yaffe, Mom Doth Murder Sleep

Listening to: Eric Bogle, Voices In the Wilderness

Decluttering accomplishments: finished the desk drawer, filed a bunch of papers, caught up on household paperwork, did laundry, cleaned the stove

17 February 2002 - Copy Cat

In case you missed it, here's a picture of the top newsmaker of the week:

That's cc:, the cloned kitty, lending new meaning to the word "copycat." Now, I happen to like cats and I admit that cc: is cute enough. But the notion that people would have their pets cloned when there are perfectly good strays begging for homes appalls me. I'd like to think there isn't really a market for this and that it's just a rationalization on the part of people who know they're doing something that's questionable. I know one cat is not just as good as another, having been subjected to some truly weird ones in my life, but there are plenty of acceptable ones out there. Just because we can do something, doesn't mean that we should.

The same applies, by the way, to purple ketchup and pink and blue squeeze margarine. I cannot imagine what the possible market for these is. I can imagine what the market is for cloned cats, unfortunately, and they're exactly the sort of people who ought not to be permitted to keep pets.

Incidentally, the cloning news came out on Valentine's Day, which happens to be Cat Day in Belgium. It's also Ferris Wheel Day, as I mentioned to Robert, adding that he lifts my spirits and makes my head spin. There was a small turnout at storytelling, but it was fun anyway. Katy brought along valentines for everyone and had us read them out loud. The one I got was a definite classic. "With more power than an elephant's fart, I've been struck by Cupid's dart."

As for the rest of the week, I'm still swamped at work. The stress level is not helped by the threatened United strike. The one diversion of the work week was a going away luncheon for one of our more colorful Air Force officers. Part of his new job involves dealing with "recoloring" money (i.e. moving it from one account to another) and we got him a "funds management kit." It consisted of play money, Rit color remover, a set of crayons which I labeled with the number codes for different colors of money, and a "learn to juggle" kit. Mary Joan and I had a lot of fun coming up with the idea and several people commented on how clever it was.

I was particularly glad for my Friday off, which involved a lot of errand running. The weather was nice and nothing I had to do was more than a mile and a half away, so I did everything on foot. The only catch was that the yarn that I'd ordered just barely fit in my backpack. I still stopped at the video store and picked up a couple of movies on the way home. Hedwig and the Angry Inch had a reasonably good rock score, but too minimal a plot line to be very absorbing. The real find was an obscure Chinese movie called Shower. It's a warm and witty slice of life, set in a bath house. I was particularly amused by the antics of the men who raised fighting crickets. And the main story - involving the relationship of a young man with his father (the bath house owner) and his retarded brother - was poignant without becoming overly sentimental. I know a lot of people will never see something like this because the market for anything with subtitles is so limited, but it is worth seeking out.

The weekend was filled with housework, alternating with reading and watching bits and pieces of the Olympics. From the limited amount of live coverage we get, you'd never know that Salt Lake City is just one time zone away. Tonight's ice dancing was particularly odd to have taped, since people should easily be able to watch live coverage at any odd hour during the weekend. The most interesting part of that to me is the musical choices the dancers make. "The Cell Block Tango" (used by the Canadian couple) seemed especially strange For those who don't know, it's from the musical, Chicago, and has to do with a bunch of women defending themselves for murder. I'm still puzzling over what sort of message that was meant to send.