Category Archives: city life

City Scavenger

Walking home from the gym today I encountered the holiest of the holiest sights a human being can be a witness to. Now before I go on, I want to remove all possible doubt that I may not be an “animal sympathizer.” I am. But in this case, there is a line, and I’m willing to draw it.

Raccoons. Apparently the pregnant mother roaming the streets surrounding my establishment gave birth. Oh and what a birth it was. Spectacular would almost refuse to accept the true marvel behind this event. Six young’ins. Oh yes. Considering their growth rate, there simply isn’t enough garbage to keep these evil spirits fed, and fed well.

I can deal with immigrant marsupials, but not with homegrown raccoons. These animals are the kingpins of garbage. Literally, they traffic in garbage; consider it the narcotic of the street. A raccoon has reached such a pronounced level of efficiency, that the competition has been relegated to substandard living conditions. Welfare recipients they have become indeed.

Social safety nets aside, I never felt a stronger desire to have a car pass or drive by and somehow, by some accidental miracle, obliterate at least two baby raccoons. The mother looked old and frail, who knows, maybe giving birth was a pain after all. Why two? Why not four, or for that matter, all of them. It all comes down to mechanics. More particularly, a vehicle only has two linear or vector paths of travel. Front wheels go over two, while the back wheels finish off. Given that two is the optimized choice, we can’t ask for more; in fact, we can only hope zero is not the outcome.

Regardless of the aforementioned, zero was the outcome. Verdict? No car drove by. But that was just one scenario, who knows what might happen tomorrow.

By now you must be raging. Animal rights. Right.

Well…Wrong! If you find animals so cute, you should probably let the rats in your basement breed (and they breed like rabbits, awkwardly). Rats are animals, so rats are cute. We can’t discriminate in application; an animal is an animal. Just because a “bigger” animal takes up a bigger volume of space, or you happen to, by coincidence, find their fluffy nature ever so endearing, it does not mean that they are pets of a nuisance free type.

Oh boy. Garbage. As I was saying. Imagine you put the garbage away at night. Now imagine how it is to walk outside in the morning and find yourself a victim of the “Raccoon Garbage Stealth Attack Team” or RGSAT. Efficacy. Opulence. These beings lavish in epicurean delights. The children of “subsidized countries” only find themselves eating such delights in wild extravagant dreams. When will it stop. The hormones we pump in our food, ultimately finds its way to the “city-raccoon.”

This is a pandemic. Epidemic.

Something needs to be done, and I don’t see the end of garbage any time soon. The end of raccoons is also not about to be aggravated to such an extent that the endangered species list would need to be invoked. However, thank god for blogs and meaningless ramblings. Symbol manipulation.

Animal rights. Let’s be honest.

P.s. the point of this piece was to stir up some controversy and as such is controversy’s nature, invite comments and feedback. Speak your mind

Raccrazy
*S/He may look innocent. But. Don’t forget, either she’s pregnant or he’s a wild raccoon. Or maybe the background is just propaganda. Photoshop also works. Either way, you get the *PICTURE:* they’re EVIL!!

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Filed under cars, city life, garbage, philosophy, raccoons, rant, scavanger, Uncategorized

Inevitable black widow plus glue

My thoughts fornicate.  I reach a perplexing climax in the theoretical discussion of mean retention.  Could it all be regressive?  The intention here is not to bring in complex statistics to prove something that is completely manufactured and has as a foundation, Vlad’s mental machine.  Oh yeah, statistics are bogus, lies, creative aberrations delivered by famous individuals with pitchforks and 666 foreheads, speaking of miracles, when miracles they are not.

So what exactly is mean retention.  In the words of the lexiconically challenged, it more or less defines balance.  Notice the “more or less,” here are critical.  They are, in fact, imperative to the understanding of this dinosaur-old terminology.  Now the question I am not along in asking.  But why does it apply to me?

Ok there Miss or Mr. University of Toronto graduate.  Deflate your chest, unclench your fists, and look straight down at those salt-laden shoes.  It doesn’t apply to you.  You are the source for this theory, and furthermore, theoretical discussion.  While you sleep at night thinking you happen to be special, a creature of utmost extremes, debate and more precisely, rant, this diametrically opposed approach to life you may have equals utter nonsense.  Special you are not.  A number you indeed are.

So then what are numbers good at or for?  They follow each other in groups, multiply themselves, divide, sometimes add and sometimes subtract if you really want to get whacky and think outside the realm of possible human brain numbing thought.  Wait, first, let’s recap.  Mean reversions, or its regressive nature leads us to understand it as something of a phenomenon displayed by those who are numbers; faceless values.

Now for the :O part.  So what?  I am concerned.  Yes, there may be 6 billion of us, or wait, that should be inaccurate since we multiply like constipated bunnies, and the 10 year census is still half way between end points; but what is important here is an art that has been perfected by casualties for more than 7 centuries.  Running with the crowd, blending in, wearing skirts at below frostbite levels, staying out of trouble for the sake of confining to governing principles of dogmatic ethics or otherwise, parental consent, censorship, yada yada yada.  For the sake of not sounding like a retarded hockey mom, I end on a more mellow and gay note.

Everyone thinks they rule the world, everyone is a baron, a gold infused vehicle of wealth, a driver.  This tendency to find personal success in the following and imitating the behaviour of others, hoping to attract empty words of compliment, is…aaarghh…grrrr….uhrmm…something, something bad.

*Statistical provisions extracted from the “Forecasting Institute of Extrapolated History,” and by no means reflect the statistical nature of the author.

‘Til we meet again,
entertain the less docile part of your brain…

Mercutio, Balcony Scene

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Filed under city life, critical, ignorance, life, mass, philosophy, questions, rant, skirts, Uncategorized