Really!
For once, the evening’s news mentioned nothing of Ukraine or Gaza or any of the horrific trouble spots elsewhere on the planet. A fresh sizzle sells. Off we go in a new direction.
The container ship ‘Dali’ hit a bridge in Baltimore. A yet unknown number of people are dead ( I hope I’m wrong, but 6 seems very low) and critical transportation systems are crippled for years. That’s all we know. We won’t have a final toll until all the debris is cleared up. Although most of the media doesn’t even know port from starboard it is determined to analyse what went wrong and speculate about what “they” should have done better. All this uninformed opinion, as usual, is being pedaled as news and sadly the masses buy it. I have a background in the commercial marine industry and I refuse to speculate. We just don’t know, so let’s just stay focused on reality.
One wide-eyed reporter stood in from of the camera and declared that the ship was going too fast which is why its steering was lost. What? How can anyone have the temerity to come up with raw lies like that when they don’t even know what they don’t know? Surely they understand that! Loss of propulsion means a loss of steering and loss of power also means no hydraulics to operate anything. Stop the bullshit, you simply do not know. I’m curious about how the vessel lost both the main engine and the generators. These are two different systems, for very good reason. Keep a questioning mind as the media spews out its uninformed opinions.
Why, within hours of the collision, was the media researching previous incidents the ship had endured? It is beyond dismal and unforgivable. What the hell does that have to do with the business at hand? When you see an image of the vessel imbedded in the ruins of the bridge, bear in mind that the ship is one third of a kilometre long. It takes a huge amount of energy to move a mass that size at any speed or trying to stop it . yoiu can’y stop a mass the size of an aircraft carrier instantly.
A week has passed. The bridge story has subsided into an account of various points of human interest. Work is underway to reopen the port’s main shipping lane. It’s tedious work and the media will fade off to other interests.
At home, Easter has passed with a healthy increase in carbon tax, but that’s not news. There will come a time when folks will swarm over our parliament buildings in rage. Not many own chainsaws, shovels or pitchforks anymore but I’m almost ready to build a guillotine. Unfortunately our expectations exceed our sense of reality. Until we are living in burned-out basement shells, cold and hungry, listening to the anguished wails of our starving children, will we get pissed off enough to demonstrate a serious anger. Wandering down a street, chanting and waving silly signs doesn’t do anything and that’s what our most militant do. Our comfort zone is too wide and deep. Let’s enjoy it while we can. If you don’t think we’re spoiled, let me sell you an all-inclusive weekend in Gaza. Bring your own water.
Our country, long known as an agricultural leader now imports a very large part of its food from somewhere else on the planet. Think of all the carbon fuels burned to accomplish that. Carbon tax? Yeah right. Even this old sailor knows that the ability to feed yourself is a cornerstone of economic security. It’s thin rhetoric when all we really want to do is talk.
There are many signs of spring. One in our town is the annual heaping of household junk out on the curb.There is a provision for an annual pickup of things folks want to dispose of. There are appliances of all sizes, electric tools, mattresses, toilets, bits of building material, baby equipment, the wealth of it all is amazing. I find it embarassing. With all the wailing about tough finances and thinking green, look at this decadence. Folks whom I’ll call alley pirates go about retreiving items they can re-use or even sell. I’ve always had enough dignity to dispose of my own spoils, party because when it leaves my possession it is truly thrashed. Clearly none of us truly understand poverty. The final grind is that we expect the common tax payer to foot the bill of it all. If you could pay a shiny price and manage to tote it all home, you also have the means to take it to our beautiful muti-million dollar disposal and recycling center.
Meanwhile, guys like me drive the streets, slowing at each pile of redundant box store furniture, home gym sets, and other wtf’s-that?
ondering what we might be able to McGiver and astonish the world. I remind myself that I didn’t need it until I saw it. Drive on old man.
Well you can tell how long this blog has sat on the back of the stove. I use a process sometimes which I called ‘fermenting’. I mull things around in my head until those wonderful “Aha” moments which come in the middle of the night. You know, usually when you’re up to have a pee. (Which is why we call it the golden age.) I’ve had no ‘ahas’ lately and the fermentation process more closely becomes one of rotting. Let’s call it composting, it’s that time of year.
“Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once.” —Lillian Dickson
