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Miffed Cats Devour Blogger

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New Brighton, MN – July 10, 2012

In yet another startling example of the threat to personal health and safety posed by careless posting of half-baked opinion and so-called “humor” on the internet, a Minnesota blogger was devoured by a group of angry house cats early Tuesday morning.

Dale Connelly, author of the not-as-popular-as-he-thinks “Trail Baboon” blog, published an entry on Monday that included some disparaging remarks about felines. The entry in the six-days-a-week blog revolved around an earlier story that appeared in mainstream media regarding research that indicates over-exposure to cat litter could lead some people (but especially Danish women), to attempt suicide.

Connelly mocked the research by treating it as a serious threat in the voice of an invented, safety-obsessed character, Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty.

At one point in his under-researched, overlong, 500 word plus screed, Connelly said:

” … some canine lovers will say it’s the other way around – that a person’s willingness to live with cats is a clear sign of a pre-existing tendency toward self-destruction.”

This was apparently the final insult for local cats, many of whom are notably unimpressed by wordy, obtuse attempts at humor. Witnesses say literally hundreds of quietly purring death-dealers gathered at the Connelly house and ambushed the 56 year old community radio news director as he was dragging his family’s garbage to the curb in the early darkness.

Trash haulers, notably a hardy bunch, were being treated for shock and despair after finding smeared remains of the lifelong government-subsidy addict spread casually around the front yard of his New Brighton home.

Blog readers wondered throughout the day what might have happened to Connelly, who is notoriously reliable in posting his unremarkable thoughts at roughly 6 am Monday through Saturday. Online concern about Connelly’s fate turned to alarm, shock, grief, acceptance and finally, disinterest by late afternoon.

“So much of what he wrote was tongue-in-cheek,” said one reader. “Little did he guess the last tongue to taste his cheek would have the texture of sandpaper.”

If you suddenly disappeared, who would complain, and why?  

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Mad Cat Disease

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This just in from Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty:

At ease, civillians!

And when I say “at ease”, I mean you should assume a state of awareness in the moderate-bordering-on-high alert range. That, to me, is the most relaxed anyone should ever be. If things get tense and alarming, we will quickly move into and through the several stages of panic. I know this much – the heat of these summer months has dulled everyone’s senses and has made us inattentive. How many of you have taken more naps recently? I know I have. That’s a good strategy for dealing with extremes.

But often when a person takes a nap, a family pet will come and nap nearby. In some cases that animal even gets into the bed with you!

I find this alarming, especially in light of recent studies about certain cat parasites that appear to slightly increase the risk of suicide in Danish women. That’s right – your cat may carry a parasite that could lead you to make a foolish decision about ending your life!

Especially if you are a Danish Woman!

Who knew? Puff could be a hazard to your mental health!

Is Puff Possessed?

Of course, some canine lovers will say it’s the other way around – that a person’s willingness to live with cats is a clear sign of a pre-existing tendency toward self-destruction. But I don’t want to get into that toxic argument. Here’s my point –

The parasite is transmitted through feces, so changing the cat litter is something that should be done every day, and by the most expendable member of the family. This is key. I realize it may be a difficult decision for any family – to choose the one member we could most easily do without – but it’s crucial that any exposure to toxoplasma gondii be limited limited.

In rats, the parasite creates lesions on the brain in the areas affecting behavior. Infected lab rats have been observed losing their fear of cats all together and even feeling an attraction to the odor of cat urine.

One theory about this clearly suicidal change in rat judgment is earth shaking!

Some researchers suppose that the parasite, which can sexually reproduce ONLY IN THE INTESTINES OF A CAT, changes the behavior of an infected animal in order to promote that animal getting eaten by kitty! If this is true it means nature is even more underhanded and nefarious than I imagined!

And it also means we must keep a careful watch on whoever in our family is responsible for feeding the cat. The repeated begging and pleading for Puff to “just take a little taste” of whatever smelly abomination has just been dumped into the bowl could quickly lead to a crazed person chopping up much more than mere fish heads at dinner time. Gruesome, I know, but it’s absolutely essential that we count their fingers before and after each meal. They won’t know why they’re doing it, so it’s up to us to remember that the fingertip is connected to the elbow, and the elbow is connected to the torso.

Yes, Puff looks hungry, but we must set limits. And although it will hurt family morale, we must make certain whoever cleans the boxes is closely watched and completely expendable. You might consider hiring someone else to do the job. But please, no Danish women!

Yours in Paranoia,

BSOR

Who does the most dangerous jobs at your house?

The Baboon Congress

The Screen Porch

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Today’s guest post is by Barbara in Robbinsdale .

The past week has been unbearably hot, and no doubt there’s more to come before summer is finished. Already the screen porch feels like a wise investment.

We had talked for years about adding something off the back of the house. There was already a long narrow “utility porch” (maybe 5’ x 10’) with 3 windows facing east. Last fall we started dreaming in earnest. A screen porch:

1) wouldn’t require a full foundation so wouldn’t cost all that much;
2) could make use of the lumber that’s been sitting in the back of the garage for the ten years since we to replaced the old garage;
3) would be in the shade by mid-afternoon (whereas our front porch on the west side becomes unusable by then) – we could eat out there on hot evenings, AND more to the point;
4) we could sleep there on a futon on hot, hot nights.

Enlisting the help of our neighbor, a contractor, we started in May. By the time I got the camera out:

The foundation was in place.

Next, the flooring was laid, and the room was framed!

The middle window
became…

…the doorway!

The knee wall was installed, outside and in.

The roof was finished, screening and the screen door were attached, the extra staircase was built, and the latticework was completed. Here she is in the half moon light.

So by the end of June, instead of installing the bedroom’s window air conditioner, I tried sleeping out on the screen porch. Made up the futon, locked the screen door… heaven. A little breeze wafted through almost immediately. I read by “book light” (no lamps out there yet) for a bit, and fell asleep before I knew it.

When has something turned out just as you planned it?

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Love at the Five and Dime

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Today is singer/songwriter Nanci Griffith‘s birthday. She’s 59.

A commercial broadcaster once told me that he appreciated a public radio show I worked on because we played Nanci’s music. I guess she wasn’t commercial enough to be featured on his station very often, but we had the freedom to embrace good music that was not going to make a lot of money.

At least one Nanci Griffith song did become a top 5 country hit – as done by Kathy Mattea. But Nanci’s is the version we played.

She has ardently promoted reading and featured books on many of her album covers, back when album covers mattered. Those looking for political statements in the poetry would find a distinct leftward tilt.

With her latest recording, Nanci has become more openly political and expressed unabashed support for the Occupy movement. Apparently this is not a topic that can be addressed with a pretty ballad, though I hope the hand-clapping Hell’s Angel boys are optional.

Things certainly do change.

One criticism of political songs is that they don’t have much staying power. Things happen. Conditions change. The topic shifts. Before long people can’t remember what it was you were talking about in your musical commentary.

But nothing is immune to change, and the fog of time obscures everything, eventually.

In addition to those suffering personal economic distress in the form of foreclosures and job loss, the “I’m not all right” assessment in that second song could certainly apply to Woolworth’s, featured prominently and innocently in the first song. The company closed all its five-and-dimes and retired its well-known name in the late 90’s to focus on a new retail strategy through a string of mall outlets called “Foot Locker”.

Yup, that’s all that’s left of Woolworth’s. Somehow I don’t think that lovely Five and Dime song would sound the same with the line “… she made the Foot Locker counter shine.”

Good thing Nanci Griffith was there to write the song at a time when people still knew what Woolworth’s was all about.

Name a favorite song, poem, book or work of art about something that is no longer around.

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Ask Dr. Babooner

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

This is something like the fifth day in a row that it’s been unbearably hot and humid and my nerves are beginning to fray.

And I don’t even have to suffer in the weather!

I’m lucky enough to have enough money to live the kind of life that protects me from discomfort on 100 degree days. In fact, I feel trapped inside all my air-conditioned spaces. My home, my car and my office all provide plentiful false, frigid comfort.

The outside seems very remote.

Even the health club is air-conditioned. While I’m flailing away on the elliptical trainer I think about the huge coal burning power plants that worsen global warming in order to make electricity so huge fans can blow cold air into a giant room so people will have to do intense workouts to break a sweat while they could just as easily get totally soaked merely waiting for a bus.

The desk attendant says “stay cool”, as I leave. Everybody says that when you’re about to head out into the weather during a heat wave. Whenever someone tells me to “stay cool”, I want to lose mine. What’s wrong with feeling the heat? Why are we so afraid of what’s really happening in the weather? How did people survive before we figured out how to refrigerate our spaces? Didn’t they wear heavy wool clothes then? We’ve become sissies. The world is insane.

Would I feel less mad if I tried living without air conditioning?

Quizzically,
Seething Over Summer

I told S.O.S. he (she?) would not find relief in a world without air conditioning, but rather a different kind of madness. Though you may feel cooped up and isolated from reality in your cool, dry bubble, those who have no choice but to endure the sauna also feel enclosed and unable to escape. How did people survive without air-conditioning? A lot of them didn’t. So stop whining and enjoy your good fortune!

Sorry about my tone, but the weather has made me short tempered and intolerant.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

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R.I.P. Andy Griffith

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The actor Andy Griffith died yesterday at the age of 86. He is best known for his portrayal of a quintessential and relentlessly likable American character.

As Sheriff Andy Taylor, Griffith was one of the last adult males to appear in a TV comedy who wasn’t painted as a nerd, a numbskull, a no-goodnik, or a nut job. His “brand” was quiet wisdom and abiding decency – try that in a major series today and see how well it goes over.

There will be tributes, of course. Many will indulge in the popular assumption that Andy Griffith and Andy Taylor were the same. Maybe they were, though some of the most thoughtful obits say Griffith was infinitely more complex.

But it is so easy to think of Griffith as Andy Taylor personified. Why shouldn’t he be? Somebody should! There was a tidbit in the excellent New York Times obit that shed some light on Griffith’s more nuanced personality when it described him doing something, I think it’s fair to say, most of us simply could not do – surrender control.

“Mr. Griffith’s fans may have imagined him as a happy bumpkin, but he enjoyed life in Hollywood and knew his way around a wine list. His career was controlled by a personal manager, Richard O. Linke, who forbade Mr. Griffith to solicit advice from anyone else, even his wife.

‘If there is ever a question about something, I will do what he wants me to do,” Mr. Griffith said in an interview with The New York Times Magazine in 1970. “Had it not been for him, I would have gone down the toilet.’”

The Times article says Griffith and Linke got together after Linke, who worked for Capitol Records, heard a recording of the then 27 year old actor giving a humorous talk to a convention at Standard Life Insurance Company in Greensboro. The bit became a hit on local radio – that’s how Linke heard it. One can fairly assume that without this bit of whimsey, none of the rest would have followed. What a fortunate convergence! You’ll note in this recording that Griffith’s voice goes a might heavy on the southern syrup.

Hard to believe something so innocuous launched Andy Griffith’s memorable career. Even if Sheriff Andy Taylor did not reflect Griffith’s true personality, it led to lots of laughs and many pleasant memories for hundreds of millions.

What sort of TV character are you best suited to play?

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Particles Beget Articles

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Just in time for the 4th of July, the particle physicists at CERN are hinting that they will unleash the baddest boom since the Big Bang with an announcement that they have found the Higgs Boson, the elusive subatomic particle that, if proven to exist, would go a long way towards explaining why all the other particles act the way they do.

OK, well, not actually “found”.

The researchers are hedging because science is a field where definite statements that are presented as fact require some kind of supporting proof – unlike politics, where people can just say stuff because they’d like it to be true.

So they’re hedging. If the things scientists are saying about the Higgs Boson were said about the car keys I lost the other day, it would sound something like this:

“I’ve found something which may have qualities that are consistent with my car keys. If the keys were wedged into the pocket of the pants I never wear because they’re too tight, you could say that I have seen something like the outline of a shape that could represent them. But because I was looking into a mirror and the pants are painfully small, the image has been erased from my memory and may never be re-created. Please don’t ask me to describe it.”

They Were In My Shoe All This Time

How’s that for certainty?

It’s possible that two days after issuing this tortured explanation of why I can’t find them, I might locate my missing keys at the bottom of the coat closet, in my shoe. But for now, we’re nowhere close to being able to start the car. But we feel like we’re getting nearer. Sound like news? On the Fourth of July, traditionally a slow day for headlines, it will be!

And this sort of half-announcement should come as no surprise. In the search for Higgs’ Boson, we heard rumors of something that was just shy of a “discovery” last December, and we have talked about it here before.

Not only does this elusive boson magically give other objects mass, it makes wild suppositions and breathless news articles happen! If Rupert Murdoch could harness the power of the boson, surely he would use it to have his tabloids write themselves.

What are you looking for that you can now report you might have almost found?

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The Tragedy of Lonesome George

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When I read about the death of the Pinta Island Tortoise Lonesome George and the species unfortunate extinction, I thought “what a tragedy.”

When I saw his picture, I thought “ … by Shakespeare”.

Not only does George wind up dead at the end of the tale (a major requirement in any downer by the Bard), but he’s probably misunderstood and totally delusional. After all, wouldn’t you be?

Imagine – everyone around George hesitates to put it into words, but they look at him with a profound sense of pity. He is, after all, the last of his kind. They try to make his sad predicament more bearable by providing the company of one or more Lady Tortoises, but George feigns a lack of interest. He is actually quite randy, as old tortoises go, but he is waiting. Only another Pinta Island Tortoise can win his love.

Although there is this ONE she-tortoise, Gregarious Jane, who looks pretty good … great, in fact. But George cannot allow himself to fall in love because his responsibility is to the ages.

It breaks his heart, but he must remain available in case another Pinta Island Tortoise comes along. What are the chances? Almost nil, and yet …

Meanwhile, the Lady Jane confides to her (hilarious) Reptile-in-Waiting MeShell that she IS, in fact, a certified, pedigreed P.I.T., but she forbids anyone to mention it to George because she does not want to be loved only as a means to forestall extinction. If he can’t love her for who she is without regard for the effect it might have on posterity, well … maybe it’s better that the species disappears forever.

Lovers always think the world revolves around them!

Hmmm. Now that I consider it, there could be some silly hijinks, a bit of cross-dressing and a little mistaken identity back-and-forth with various characters hiding in their shells while other tortoises parade across the stage and talk as if no one else is in the room … and it could wind up as a comedy after all.

But George and Jane would have to realize their true identities and see that they are, in fact, right for one another.

But no. He dies. So alas, it’s a tragedy. Unless you have a better idea.

What ho! Supply a character, a line, or some story element for your version of Shakespeare’s “The Tragedy (or Comedy) of Lonesome George”.

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Taunting the Tomatoes

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Today’s post comes from Dr. Larry Kyle, the founder and produce manager at Genway, a supermarket that creates and sells nothing but genetically modified foods.

I was surprised to discover how casually people will pile on the scorn when it comes to disrespecting grocery store tomatoes.

They don’t have any flavor!
They have thick skins!
They’re only made to look good and taste be damned!

Please! These are delicate fruits.
Can’t you just be nice?

There was a time when tomatoes were thrown by the general public to insult performers who did not entertain. Now entertainers are throwing insults at tomatoes as some kind of performance for the general public. I’m discouraged by this strange turnaround.

This latest attack comes from Science Magazine and the New York Times, who blindly publish so-called research that begins with a questionable assumption – that grocery store tomatoes are a disappointment.

The argument is that we’ve fed ourselves fruits that were developed to serve large corporate interests by being easy to pick, ship and display. Critics say Americans are so dumb, we’d rather buy something that looks good rather than eat tasty foods.

I say – “So?”

Anyone who has spent five minutes trying to market anything at all understands the irresistible power of a Pretty Thing. That’s why we developed this summer’s produce special at Genway – The Lightning Bug Tomato!

By combining last year’s shockingly red Bloodbath Tomato with DNA taken from the ordinary firefly, we’ve created a piece of produce that has a pulsing, crimson glow. How successful is it? People line up and pay a fee to come into our store after closing when the lights have been turned out, just to stand by the tomato bin and bathe in the random flickering of piles and piles of ruby red orbs. It’s a splendid cross between languishing in an erotically charged boudoir, and hanging out at a crime scene.

We sell these Lighting Bug Tomatoes by the cart load, and so far no one has complained about the taste. It may be that no one has ever eaten one! I know quite a few will be launched from homemade catapults this Fourth of July. But I’m a businessman. As long as people pay on the way out, I don’t care what they do with the fruit once they get it home.

Maybe someday someone will find a way to market a tomato based on flavor alone. Good luck with that. In the meantime, don’t be cruel, be cool! And keep an eye on the sky. There’s something up there that’s very bright and very red. It glows like a tiny, throbbing sun, and it’s headed directly at you!

Dr. Larry Kyle
Produce Manager and Founder
Genway

What’s in your garden this summer?

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Tax Attacks

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Clearly the summer is off to a slow start for perennial Sophomore Bubby Spamden, a boy with too much time on his hands.

Hey Mr. C.,

I’ve got a question for you.

What is it with you old people anyway? You’re supposed to be easy to figure out, but me and my friends have been kinda stumped. We’re not been getting the attention we expect … and DESERVE … from the geezer contingent in our town. Part of being young in summertime is to go out at night and have lots of loud fun in public places – fun that makes wrinkly folks mad.

We’ve been trying and trying, hanging out on streets downtown and in parks and even at the mall, laughing and messing with each other and acting goofy, but nobody even looked at us! So we upped the ante and started cursing loudly, because that’s always been a good way to get a rise out of cranky oldsters. We waited until a little clump of creaky blue hairs walked by and then my buddy Doug let rip with some #$%’s, and a few *&#!’s, and even a *#&*@!#-#%*$. I was expecting a lot of finger wagging and lecturing, but nobody said anything. At first I thought their hearing aids were turned off, but I finally decided they just didn’t care! What’s wrong with our society that it’s so hard to shock people?

Finally I asked my dad and he said “there’s been a cultural shift in language that started with Lenny Bruce and now has reached its full fruition with the Internet and the current level of discourse.” (He talks like that all the time – it’s boring).

His argument – there are no more dirty four letter words left in the language that have the power to shock large numbers of people – except one.

And he says that word is “Taxes”.

He said if we go around shouting about raising taxes and drop the word into every sentence we can at every chance we get, it would sound taxing brilliant and every old person within earshot will go out of their taxing minds telling us to shut up and then we can tell them it’s too taxing bad and they can just tax off because this is the way we taxing talk, and then we can feel like real honest-to-tax teenagers again.

I’m thinking it might work. Or he might be messing with us. Which is it?

Your friend,

Bubby

It shouldn’t be so hard for a young person to draw a little scorn from older people in the summertime, but I tend to think Bubby’s dad is taking him for a ride on this one. Old folks are just tired, and in a world that demands so much disapproval, one has to be careful where one chooses to spend it. Even so, I’d watch my mouth in public. You don’t want to get caught tossing the “T” word around.

What did you do to make the old folks angry?