December 22nd, 2009

rabbid:  underwear

Brain squeezings

I have a rumbly in my tumbly, so I'm working from home today.

(This technically means I'm not taking more of the vacation days of which I have none left.)

(Sick leave, neither.  I'm cleaned out.)

I'm also still dealing with a mean case of the insomnias; I spent last night staring at the clock, feeling uncomfortable with my tummy, my arms, and a nasty new symptom of sharp pins and needles in my right shoulder in turn, wondering if I'd be better off on the sofa, and too tired to move.  Naturally, my brain was thinking up sarcastic rants at a mile a minute.

I really should just start writing them down, since I thought that I came up with some particularly incisive and funny stuff, but I've done this before, and I know from past experience that I can never remember exactly what it was I thought was so clever, just the general subject.  Last night's was an epic rant on fast food advertising and the general insanity with which the advertising industry approaches food (best described as the kind of love/hate relationship immortalized by the Montagues and the Capulets, or maybe the Hatfields and McCoys, in that everyone loves to hate what they're fascinated by, can't live without it, and everyone dies in the end), but most of it was gone by the time I woke up properly.

Of course, my insomnia-addled brain could just be fooling me; I write symphonies in my sleep, too.  Last night I wrote a symphony, attended a Billy Joel concert, stopped some people from walking around my house because they thought it was a tourist destination, and all this was happening at the house my mother lives in in London.  It's right by a park, which is where the concert was being held.

So, you see, my brain could be thinking I'm brilliant, and what I'm really thinking up is something on the level of "so what about that advertising?  Strange, huh?  Go figure", with no actual joke at all.  I can't tell.

All I know is my tummy hurts (we both have it, whatever it is; Merry Christmas to us), and my brain has possibly turned on me.

If I wake up tomorrow and my brain has crawled out of my ear and is typing merrily away on the computer, I'll know for sure.

At least with my brain gone I'll still be able to go to work. 

Or I could send my brain in my place; slap a little mascara on, and no-one will notice the difference.

Bogart Love


So, I'm sure any of you who watch Animal Planet have seen the ads for the ASPCA (support them!) where Sarah McLachlan sings soulfully over video footage of really sad and abused animals.  I cry every time, it's shameless.  In fact, they've been so ubiquitous, that SNL and other people have been making parodies of the ads, which are actually quite funny (check out YouTube), and I don't think they do any real harm, since the kind of person who is left cold by the images of animals in pain is not going to donate (donate!) to the ASPCA (donate!  Subtle subliminal typing-type message!) anyway.

They have a new one with what I thought was another SM song, but it's actually "My Skin", by Natalie Merchant (it's on i-tunes, I just bought it this morning), and it's even more agonizingly sad than "Answer" (SM), because the words are "I've been treated so long/ I've been treated so long/ As if I'm becoming untouchable", and I dare anyone not to be even the tiniest bit moved by the dog with all-over mange as those words are sung.  It reduces me to absolute floods, but I'm easy to make tearful, thanks to the Vicodin.  I'm easy to get with animal stuff anyway, but those ads are killer.
Anyway, It was just in my mind, I've got nothing really to say about the ASPCA, except that I like what they do a lot better than the Group That Begins With A P That Shall Not Be Named, because they and the rescue groups that work with them actually try to rehabilitate the animals that come in from abusive situations.  And I'm not on board with the idea of treating animals as absolute equals to humans until we allow them to vote, work for a salary, and pay taxes.  And the ASPCA isn't violent.  I don't think the way to get people to treat animals better is to threaten them, insult them, offend them, and abuse them.

I'm just sayin'.

No group is perfect; there are always, always - no exceptions - issues with organizations run by people, because people are not perfect.  But the ASPCA tries, and for that, they get my support.  Yes, you can always make the argument that there are people in horrible situations, and why worry about animals when people are suffering, but my view is that it's all interconnected - animal abuse and people abuse go hand in hand, and all abuse is unforgiveable.  I'm not a vegetarian (though I'm not really a big meat eater), because I accept that I am an omnivore, and as a species, we eat other species (like other carnivores and omnivores - and I'm not really averse to eating insects, as long as they're cooked), but I don't think farm animals should suffer, and I'm against feed lots, battery farming, and people who abuse farm animals, because it's unnecessary and it makes the meat taste like crap.
I went off on a tangent there; sorry.

I like animals - they seem to like me most of the time.  I don't think it's appropriate to ignore animal cruelty, just like I don't think it's appropriate to ignore human cruelty - though both are ignored and glossed over every day.  I think the world changes for the better a little bit at a time, and the small stuff is the foundation for the bigger stuff. 

Um, yeah.  All that from a song I like, and a commercial that makes me weepy.

Blame it on the snow day.