Monday, December 31, 2007

Egypt Pics

My photos will have to wait until I get back to Canada. (I was gonna say "civilization" for ironic effect, 'cause Egypt is the cradle of civilization and Canada isn't even though our dollar is stronger and... oh never mind. Shut up). But if you can't wait, Andrew is uploading his pics as we go. You can see his pics here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/andrewcurrie/sets/72157603590575829/

And don't forget the dueling blogs! Andrew's Egypt insights are here:

http://acurrie.wordpress.com

Next post: my traditional look back on 2007.

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Two Geezers At Giza

Let's recap, shall we? Ray hurt his back 2 weeks ago. Massage,
chiropractic treatment and drugs allowed Ray to get on a plane to Egypt.
This morning, Ray felt well enough to join Andrew in the hotel gym for
Ray's first workout in weeks. Ray felt great! His back was flexible and
pain free. Happy at last, Ray enjoyed a shave and shower... Then he
sneezed and promptly re-injured his back.

The timing was particularly bad because today was to be the culmination of
a lifelong dream... to see and touch the Great Pyramids of Giza, towering
structures of fame, mystery and foreboding, and the pinacle technological
achievement of humanity's first true civilization. Few landmarks have
elicited such imagination, fantasy and anticipation.

But the back ache gave us the excuse to do the tourist thing and rent
camels. Yes, we were bilked. But whatever. The fact remains that we rode
camels --named Michael Jackson and Bill Clinton (Clinton had diarrhea)--
through part of the Sahara desert, arriving upon the Giza plateau to behold
mankind's most ancient physical achievement.

So many things in life fail to live up to their expectations. The pyramids
are not among them. Considering when they were built, they are gargantuan.
Their blocks are gargantuan. They were built, no doubt, by giants: men
whose imaginations, power and will dwarf those of we pathetic modern
mortals.

And there is every indication that the pyramids were built by mortal,
fragile humans, however colossal their dreams and achievements. The
pyramids are imperfect, and one can almost smell the blood and sweat
spilled in their backbreaking construction. The lesser tombs of the
workers are visible in the great tombs' shadows, as are the ornate
underground tombs of the architects.

And it is there, in the lesser tombs, that the disappointment of modern
Egypt arises; for despite necessary restrictions on the use of cameras (in
order to preserve these fast fading treasures of humanity), every minor
official offers tourists the chance to snap a photo in exchange for a
piddling bribe of a couple of US dollars. Even I enjoyed a priceless
scamper up the side of one of the great pyramids, in defiance of reasonable
law, and in exchange for pocket change.

The decline of the greatness of Man is measured in nickles and dimes.

And yet I do not regret my transgression. The pyramids were meant to be
touched, just as they were meant to scrape heaven.

Tonight is New Years Eve. Andrew and I will attempt to return to the
plateau to welcome 2008 by beholding the profiles of antiquity, cut out
from the backdrop of Egyptian winter stars.

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Sunday, December 30, 2007

Wow. Wow. Wow.

After suffering through 6 hours of agony on a plane, enduring a bad back,
then crouching next to the only free AC outlet in Heathrow airport in order
to recharge my PDA, I boarded an uneventful flight to Cairo...

...That is, until we flew over the pyramids. The only words that issued
from my lips were, "Wow. Wow. Wow." If the plane had turned around then,
I would have been content, having seen the last standing wonder of the
ancient world with my own eyes.

But it did not turn around. I am in the Meridien hotel in Cairo, literally
across the street from the Great Pyramids of Giza. They fill the bedroom
window.

The pyramids are history's greatest and most profound architectural
achievement. The big one stood as the highest manmade structure for
millennia, finally overtaken by the Eiffel Tower in only the 19th century.
To sleep in their shadow is literally a dream come true.

And so now I shall dream... Of pharaohs, belly dancers and kebabs. The
ancient wealth of Egypt awaits in the waking morn.

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Saturday, December 29, 2007

Nearly e-Jipped

Droogies, I am minutes from boarding a flight to Egypt. My back has been spasming all week. It was almost at the point where I'd be forced to cancel my trip, as I was almost in tears a couple of days ago, lugging a light backpack on the subway in downtown Toronto; downtown Cairo would have killed me! But the miracle of chiropractic "science" has stepped in to win me some pain-free reprieve, and I am sufficienly recovered to chance this voyage to one of the finest destinations on the planet. A crap-load of cheap booze helps, too.

I've travelled many places in the world, but, like many, I've always held a secret fascination for Egypt. Not only for its storied pharaohnic history, but for its rich Islamic traditions and modern geopolitical intrigues. Yes, the pyramids capture my fancy, but I'm also excited to possibly view the tomb of Saladin, and maybe (though unlikely) climb Mt Sinai itself, and view the land of Moses stretch out to the horizon.

More likely, Andrew and I will spend every evening drunk and tempted by the local entertainment:



Well, boarding time is nearing, and the free port that I'm sucking back in the executive lounge is starting to sour. So I will end with some wry political commentary:

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Thursday, December 27, 2007

She's Dead, Jim

"She's dead, Jim."



Benazir Bhutto has been murdered. This is a dark day for the world, as, most probably, extremist religious forces have managed to silence one of the brightest hopes for secular democracy --however corrupt-- in the pivotal but troubled land of Pakistan. It seems likely that a militant group with ties to the Pakistani Taliban or even Al Qaeda was responsible, but there's not getting around the fact that Parvez Musharraf is the one who most immediately benefits from this event. And it is certainly not unlike him to take such drastic and ill-conceived action to cling to power.

In coming days, watch for Western powers (notably the USA and UK) to push for the Pakistani elections to continue on time, despite disarray among Bhutto's opposition PPP party --who were perhaps favoured to win power-- in order to provide the legal illusion of Musharraf's administration's legitimacy.


In Other News...

Here's a list of myths from Men's Health magazine:

1. What if I did that thing I'm not supposed to...

2. Better ways to lift weights...

3. Nutritional myths...


On The Personal Front...

This year Xmas is tainted with a bit of tragedy. Heartfelt condolences are expressed to my cousin and his wife for the loss in their family.

And, wouldn't you know it, I threw my back out last week! I've been barely mobile ever since. In fact, at this very moment I'm stoned on Robax (oh, that stuff is sweeeeet) and am awaiting my long-craved chiropractic appointment.

On Saturday, I head to Egypt with good buddy Andrew Currie. That's right, folks: dueling blogs!


And lastly...

Here are some funny cat photos that I stole from the Internet:


Thursday, December 20, 2007

Gasp...! Nostalgia...

Back in the 1970s and early 80s, we didn't have 24 hour music television, like MTV or Canada's version, MuchMusic. In fact, music media wasn't well developed at all. We all know how important refining one's musical tastes is to the evolution of an adolescent's identity, so back then the quest for "alternative" music was a serious one, indeed. No internet, no music television, no magazines, no cool friends.... most were doomed to absorb the fashion, ethic and outlook of the dominant artistic culture which, back then, meant classic rock, mullets, and over-tight jeans.

For sensitive, fey and poetic young wusses like me, this was emotional death. Luckily, those of us in Toronto had access to a very special TV show, called The New Music (see Wikipedia entry here), hosted by future media icons Jeanne Beker (eventually made world famous as the creator and host of Fashion Television) and John "J.D." Roberts (eventually made famous as an American news anchor).

For many of us "alternative before there was a name for alternative" kids, The New Music was a life-saving show, giving form to a certain longing for music, fashion and outlook that had an emotional resonance apart from the jeans & denim staple of the time. Only now, in the era of YouTube, have I been able to revisit some of the old videos shown on that show, which would have otherwise been lost to history.

Let's begin with a song that has haunted me for decades, though its video is embarrassing by today's standards. It's "A New Day" by Killing Joke, an was supposedly inspired by the band's sojourn in rural Iceland, where witchcraft and mysticism are said to be prevalent. Here's the video:




Next up is a forgotten classic by Mike Oldfield, he of the Tubular Bells fame. It's called "Five Miles Out":



Last up is one of my favourite songs of the era, a tight synthopop classic by OMD called, "The Maid of Orleans", about, of course, Joan of Arc. I was so impressed by this song that it inspired me to try to build my own synthesizer. I know, that sounds laughable in today's climate of cheap electronics and programmable personal computer sound. But no such thing existed for the masses back in the early 80s. All of this was quite new. (For the curious, my design didn't allow for changes in octave. Oh well.) Here's the video:

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Look What I Pulled Out Of My Icehole

Remember this post? Apropos of that...

OK, let's begin...

1. The Top Ten Teacher Sex Scandals of 2007. Thank Zod someone is keeping track of this stuff!

2. The greatest, stupidest, teen movie of the 80s, Real Genius, is finally getting a sequel. Too bad, 22 years later, Val Kilmer is too fat to play a convincing sex symbol:


Wait a second.... that's my bod!

3. Speaking of celebrities being less than they could, check out this gallery of celebs, before and after Photoshop! Mind you, the future ex-Mrs-Dr Deonandan, aka Naomi Watts, looks quite fine sans augmentation.


4. Animal activists are up in arms (and fins) over these photos of Beluga whales being adorned with Santa hats at a Japanese aquarium. Mind you, given a choice between looking foolish in a hat or being served as sushi....well....


5. In continuing proof that England is actually a fictitious country existing only in storybooks and Dr Who episodes, comes this story about an innocent couple being forced to host the house arrest of a convicted criminal, because the criminal wrote down their address as his home! Oh those wacky Brits. According to the article, the miscreant said, "I'm staying here until the tag's off. There's f**k all you can do about it. The courts have told me to."

Well, in the words of one Fark.com commenter, "Yeah sport, there IS fark all I can do about it. I can beat your dumb ass and toss you out. Alternatively, I could beat your dumb ass and toss you out. WTF is wrong with these people?"

6. Also from Fark.com comes this story about a woman being (rightly) thrown in jail for continuously verbally abusing her gay neighbour, who works as a "drag artist". Two reasons for linking to this story: (a) check out the photo; is that the woman or the "drag artist"? And (b) "drag artist"? WTF? Since when is wearing gaudy makeup and second-hand women's clothing an art?

7. Chinese ladies like it in the ice hole. It's true.

8. According to this ridiculous story, Britons (those residents of that fictitious land referenced above) are less healthy that their medieval forebears. Right. Well, to quote another Fark.com regular, I'd rather live a long life of obesity and cholesterol poisoning than die at 22 of tooth decay.

9. Well, we all saw this coming. Or at least Pat Robertson and Rick Santorum did. Sure, normalize homosexuality and the next thing you'll see is people boinking animals! Well, as the rigorous studies on this blog have shown, ain't nothing too rare about that 'neither. So where does that leave us? What can possibly outrage we last few remaining decent law-abiding, Jesus-loving, Nixon voters? Today's Daily Perv Link (TM) features a fellow who has discovered the joys of pavement love. Yep. Pavement love.

10. Let's end on a serious note, shall we? Eco-warrior George Monbiot takes exception to the Bali Deal, and has no kind words for Al Gore.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Professor Politician


There is a tradition of academics entering politics, or politicians entering academia. It's a rarity, but a tradition nonetheless. I guess the logic has been that those who've spent their careers studying public issues are well equipped to legislate upon those issues, as well, and vice versa.

So a quick scan of RateMyProfessors.com finds us a couple of Canada's top politicians and former politicians. I could not find Bob Rae or Ed Broadbent (both successful university teachers), but I did manage to find one Pierre E. Trudeau lecturing at Harvard. Mind you, it's not the P.E.T., hero of my youth and perhaps the finest leader this country has known in the modern era. You can tell because this P.E.T. is a language teacher and is, um, still alive. But the character resemblance is uncanny, based upon this one student review:
"If you have a flat chest like me don't take this class because you will de disappointed with outcome at the end of the semester!"
I managed, as well, to find one of my favourite Canadan academics, the University of Toronto's Mark Kingwell, a philosophy professor whom I've always found inspiring for his ability to straddle the worlds of both serious academia and pop culture relevance. But this post is about politicans in academia, and Kingwell does not qualify...yet.

The big score was in finding student reviews of Michael Ignatieff. For those of you outside Canada, Ignatieff (whose niece I went to high school with) is essentially our "king in waiting". He is the number two man in the Liberal party, which is set to probably assume power in the next election. I've formerly written about Ignatieff here and here.

While the actual leader, Stephane Dion, tries to establish some kind of national profile, it's Ignatieff who fights the battles in the House of Commons, and whom many of the other politicos view as the real leadership threat. The photo above is telling. It has Ignatieff in the foreground, with Dion silently watching in the back, a tad out of focus.

Ignatieff has an image problem in this country, because he is seen as our version of a neocon, however repentant. He is known in some circles for his apologetic stances on torture, and his comparatively accepting views on the projection of US military power. Yet he is managing to rehabilitate himself somewhat well. Here is a comment from one of his students, from the site:
"Very sexy. Lets TAs do all the grading. Extremely popular with mid-careers, so classes always oversubscribed. Doesn't particularly care about his students unless they are former political prisoners or attractive coeds"
In addition to Iggy, I found a review of another Harvard professor, one Kim Campbell, Canada's former (and first female) Prime Minister. Campbell was the lamest of ducks and perhaps the most unpopular PM in my lifetime. But, post-politics, she's managed to create an image of herself as distanced, self-mocking, easygoing pointy-head.... which is a good thing.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

666


Since the infamous "Raywat Deonandan's Bulletin" morphed into Deonandia back in 2005, and migrated to this blog format, hosted by Blogger.com, there have been 665 posts. This, my droogies, is number 666.

All hail our dark lord, Lord Wat!

I'd planned a long cerebral post on the nature of pataphysics, inspired by having watched the thought-provoking film, No Country For Old Men. But I find myself tired and lazy, having just scrubbed my filthy apartment and sadly eyeing a big pile of backlogged paperwork. Sigh. So the pataphysics post will have to wait.

Instead, you get the following:

1. The Top 10 Animals You Didn't Know Were Poisonous

2. Fifteen Taboo-Breaking Moments on TV

Speaking of TV, I've made no secret of my love for Survivor. This season's entry, Survivor: China, the 15th installment, has proven to be among the most strategic. (I've been particularly enjoying the Survivor "gaycaps", available here.)

One thing I can't tolerate on the show, though, is how they keep casting hot, young white chicks who, despite their visual allure, are so freaking dumb that they can barely string sentences together. Seriously, I have to change the channel each time they attempt to having something resembling a conversation, lest I get all dumbified by exposure.

The beauty of Survivor, though, is not its strategy, its game or its scantily clad hotties. It's in watching the fragility of ego. In the history of the game, it's a precious handful who've managed to retain the appropriate perspective: that it's a game for $1 million, nothing more. Within a few weeks, the majority get sucked into their microcosmic relationships and forget that their competitors aren't friends or family, but obstacles. Hence the guilt and indignance following the necessary misdirection that the game encourages. It's a fascinating study on the nature of human relationships, really.

Have I fully rationalized my TV watching practices now? Good. See you tomorrow for..... number 667!

Friday, December 14, 2007

Frack! I Mean, Fark!

A quick scan of Fark.com brings us some delightful stories...

We begin with the story of a drunken man in Vietnam sticking his willy through a fence in order to relieve himself. Unbeknownst to him, there was a playful puppy on the other side of the fence, who saw his appearing willy as a new chew toy. From the Fark message board, this fellow is wanted for questioning:



Now, how many of you believe this story? Seems more likely that this was a potential Daily Perv Link (TM) gone thankfully awry.

Apropos of this blog is this story listing the best science fiction books for people who don't think they like science fiction. The Fark readers respond with their own lists here.

Lastly, as I will be spending New Years in Egypt with my buddy (um, platonic, heterosexual buddy, that is) Andrew Currie, I found this photo to be particularly interesting. It's from a 2005 National Geographic cover. Look at it, then read the caption, then look at it again:

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The "Get A Grip" Category

Got some random stuff for you today, so let's begin...



In the "get a grip" category, we have this story, about an idiot Connecticut high school teacher who heard the school's teenaged custodian singing Guns'N'Roses' Welcome To The Jungle over the public address system... and immediately called the cops because she thought the teen was threatening her. Sheesh.

Also in the "get a grip" category is this story about a park official in England who prevented a couple from photographing their own fully clothed daughter sitting on a swing, citing concerns over paedophilia. One MP quipped something to the extent that now they should be legislating "Common Sense". Egads, England, what has become of ye?

The MP was Phil Woolas and his actual quote was, "We are in danger of becoming so adverse to risk we will lose sight of common sense." This sentiment can be extended to other modern practices beyond just photographing one's child. Um....War on Terror, anyone?

Continuing in the "get a grip" theme, we have this story about the Swedish military removing the penis from the lion on their heraldic insignia. Apparently it was "offending" the female soldiers. I mean, really. Do the boobs on Lady Justice offend male lawyers? Oh yeah, I guess they do.

Removing the penis from the lion on the coat of arms. Sigh. As one Fark.com commenter put it it, "That's the perfect metaphor for the state of Old Europe's armed forces."

And before someone dares draw a hypocritical parallel between the changing meaning of the lion penis symbol and the changing meaning of the red poppy (discussed yesterday), there's a qualitative difference between the two issues. The lion penis has not been co-opted by political forces to sway public support for a political agenda; its disappearance is simply the result of a vocal, moralistic minority being irrationally offended by anatomy.

Speaking of animal bits, I've made no secret of my carnivorous ways. I have also made no secret of my vegetarian tendencies. See, I love meat. And given my muscle-based fitness approach, my body craves animal protein. However, I still feel that a vegetarian lifestyle is morally superior in a number of ways. Thus, I've been on the slow crawl toward adopting that lifestyle in its entirety for several years now. I'll probably get there just before I die. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it's the thing that ends up killing me! And indeed, I am a strict vegetarian, once removed: I only eat animals who themselves were vegetarians. See how that works?

In any case, in honour of our vegetarian brethren, I thought I'd share with you the results of GoVeg.com's Sexiest Vegetarians Next Door contest, from both 2006 and 2007. The female winner from 2006 was none other than Toronto's own Stephanie McColl, pictured below:



And this year, the female winner was South Carolina's goth-tastic Jessica Comolli, pictured below:



See what I mean? Cornbread and tofu can do wonders with a little help from genetics, Estee Lauder, the local gym and our friends from Photoshop.

What's that you say? The men? Who cares? Go look 'em up yourselves.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Poppy Shmoppy?


Adam S. sends us this astonishing video of men actually flying, courtesy of the wing suit. Click on the video. You won't be disappointed.

Kathy T. sends us the Freerice.com site. Test your knowledge of English words while donating rice to the hungry of the world. Go. Now.

Nasty Nicky B. has been asking me about classic science fiction stories. Spurred by his questions, I recalled one of my childhood favourites, written by one of my boyhood heroes, Isaac Asimov, before the microcomputing revolution. The story is called The Last Question and you can read it in its entirety here.

By the way, for a safe and comfortable introduction to "hard" sci-fi, I recommend any of Asimov's short story collections from the so-called Golden Era of the 1950s. I believe those books contributed significantly to the evolution of my own thinking and philosophy.

Now today's Controversial Topic of the Day (TM) comes from Brother Bhash, who sends us this story about a Judge chastising a police officer for wearing a red poppy into his courtroom. The judge's argument was that the poppy is a political statement that has no place in a court of law.

For those of you outside this country, the red poppy has, since the end of WWI, been a symbol of remembrance of war veterans in Canada, and indeed across most of the Commonwealth. It is typically worn around the time of Remembrance Day, which is Nov 11th of each year, and its symbolism is the result of a poem by Canadian battlefield physician John McCrae.

For generations, we have worn the poppy to remember the war fallen. I was taught in school that we wear the poppy to remind us of the horror and sacrifice of war, lest we repeat those mistakes. All of this is a good and fine sentiment. Here's a nice story about the wearing of poppies.

But a funny thing has happened in very recent years. Much like the "Support The Troops" meme, much discussed in this blog here and here, many people now feel that the red poppy's symbolism has been co-opted by the pro-war set.

This article summarizes that argument, though I think a little irrationally at times. The deeper philosophical thrust of the argument, however, is in this excerpt:
"Sadly, the poppy acts more as a rallying cry to support military solutions to the world's problems, instead of a heart-felt and genuine plea for an end to the suffering of war."
How does it do this? Pro-war politicians use Remembrance Day as an opportunity to sing paeans to the current military efforts, and to more vociferously deny anti-war voices. The result is that pro-war faces are always seen brandishing poppies, while anyone opposed to the war must remain silent, lest they be (illogically) seen as not honouring the sacrifices of soldiers.

In times of war, a large number of people would rather rally around their soldiers than to look at the policies that have put their soldiers in harm's way in the first place. A more cynical view is that discussion of the current war around the time of Remembrance Day intentionally conflates the heroic sacrifices of WWI and WWII fallen --killed in defensive struggles-- with the sacrifices in Afghanistan and Iraq, which are less defensible conflicts. A sacrifice is a sacrifice, true. But the result is a blurring of moralities, a calculated attempt to enhance the ethical platform of the war in Afghanistan by painting it in the colours of the great defensive and defensible struggles of the previous generations.

The result, sadly, is that for a growing number of people, the poppy is becoming a symbol of militarism, not of peace. Of course, this statement will make many of you angry. I fully expect the regular stream of hate mail to accelerate briefly, along the lines of, "These soldiers died for your right to have your f*cking blog. How dare you say that remembering them is wrong..." Blah blah, yadda yadda.

So I remind you: I am not saying anything. I'm merely reporting on what a growing proportion of the population is expressing. I ma continue to wear a poppy, or I may not. I don't know. But I do know that a symbol means only what the people agree that it means. And meanings change over time. Just ask the poor Hindu shmuck who invented the swastika.

The greater tragedy here is that Remembrance Day is not serving its purpose. It should be a time when we intestinally appreciate the horror and idiocy of war, when we cast angry glances at politicians for playing with men's lives as if they were cards dealt on a playing field. On such days, support for war efforts should decline as people come to their senses. Instead, often folks find seasonal "resolve" and learn the wrong lesson: that soldiers dying and killing made the world a better place back then, so soldiers dying and killing should have the same effect today.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Come On Baby, Light My Ass


Further to an earlier post about online dating, check out this email sent to a female friend from a random suitor on an unnamed dating site:
"hi my nameis paul and i seen you on her and you are breth taking butefall im very happey all the time and my age is 33 i would like to ment sumone that likes to light ass much as i do and has the saminchrests ass me hop you will e mial me back."
Well, aren't we all looking to find someone who likes to "light ass" as much as we do?

Monday, December 10, 2007

That Tool From Tool

Maynard James Keenan is formerly of the band Tool, now with the band Puscifer. I think the cover art for their new album, V Is For Vagina, is just brilliant. Unsurprisingly, a lot of US stores --including Walmart-- are refusing to carry the product, due to the "offensiveness" of the image. Give me a freakin' break. I've seen more offensive images on the mainstream magazine racks, the sides of the boxes for kids' toys, and on the directions for various products in the pharmaceutical aisle:

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Deep

Courtesy of Nasty Nick:

Friday, December 07, 2007

Danglies


It's been a busy few days for me, compounded by my new emergency get-in-shape-and-lose-fat plan, instituted before this season's Big Travel. It's also exam time, and I've been pulling out my hair setting exams for my two classes, International Health Theory and Health Research Methods. I'd had an exam already set for the latter, but lost my USB key containing it. Since I couldn't risk that a student had found the key, I had to expend yet another sleepless night creating a brand new exam from scratch. Grrr.

In any case, instead of pithy observation today, you get weird factoids. "About what?" you ask. Well, wait and see, my droogies. Wait and see....

Did you know that castrated men can still have sex? This is especially true if castration took place before puberty, in which case th adrenal gland may increase its moderate production of testosterone, making up for the absent testicular shortfall. In fact, the castrati of Europe's latter Renaissance age (16th-18th centuries, give or take) were often sought for their sexual services by married upper-class women. They were considered ideal because their husbands typically weren't threatened by a man with no 'nads, and because a castrato cannot impregnate anyone.

As most know, eunuchs were common in the Chinese imperial court, again because there was no fear of them impregnating women of the royal line. They evolved into a powerful class who, because they could not produce progeny, nonetheless accumulated wealth and power for themselves that eventually rivaled that of the royal house.

The office of eunuch became so envied that some adult men --mostly out of financial desperation-- would volunteer to undergo castration for social advancement. The process involved sitting on a chair with a hole cut through it, with your boys dangling through. Well, you can imagine the rest. A fair proportion did not survive the procedure.

Some Chinese eunuchs acquired transcendant wealth and power. Among the most famous was the Admiral Zheng He, who some modern scholars believe may have mapped the entire globe decades before Columbus sailed three rickety old ships to the Caribbean!

In India, eunuchs are not common, but some of the "third sex" --or hijra-- who are typically either male transvestites and/or homosexuals choose to undergo ritual castration.

Speaking of India and dangling one's gonads through a hole, if you ever look in the back of the Kama Sutra, there are spells and potions. One of them is concoction (there's no "k" in "concoction") on how to make one's penis bigger. You're supposed to prepare a salve of robin's egg, ghee and some other ingredients, mix it under a half moon, then slather it over your member. Then you're supposed to cut a hole in your hammock, thread willy through the hole, and lie on your stomach throughout the night.

Of course, by morning Old Doc' Johnson is engorged with blood and seemingly larger, so I guess in that sense the potion works. But think about it.... the Kama Sutra was written for medieval pre-industrial Indians. If Mr Happy is covered in egg and butter and hanging from a hammock overnight, don't you think some hungry mongoose is going to wander in and take a bite?

Maybe it was actually an early attempt at Indian population control.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

One Laptop Per Child

Greetings, my droogies. Let us begin with my death-defying tale of traffic horror! Okay, it's more like a sad little story about a 2-stroke car and an icy road, but whatever. I was driving back to Ottawa yesterday morning in the wake of Ontario's biggest snowstorm in years, being my usual speedy, confident self. I was on the 416, 20 minutes from the exit on to the 417 and Ottawa, and making good time for teaching my Global Health class at noon.

But I was suddenly and incomprehensibly overtaken by a wave of responsibility. "Lord Wat", I said to myself, "Maybe we should pull over and fill up withe windshield wiper fluid." See, the fluid had just run out and the windshield was getting a tad foggy.

"Fine advice, Wee Mortal," Lord Wat said unto me. And we slowed to a crawl and gingerly inched onto the highway shoulder, intending to pull far from the traffic and thence re-stock the fluid from my supply in the trunk.

But noooooo. The little rented putt-putt rolled over a patch of slippery packed snow and suddenly spun out of control, spinning about 200 degrees across both lanes of traffic. Had there been an oncoming vehicle, I would have been toast. But I had deliberately chosen that moment to pull over because there were no vehicles coming. The car careened into the centre median, becoming lodged in a snowy ditch, facing toward the oncoming traffic. My biggest fear was that it would also topple over, but luckily that didn't happen. The only thing bruised between me and the car was my fragile ego.

I called for a tow and sat there for about an hour, blinkers on and hood flipped open. It was an opportunity to study the altruistic nature of my fellow Ontarians. In that hour, a hundred vehicles must have gone by. One on my side slowed enough to signal to me; I waved him on. But on the other side of the highway, a commuter stopped his car and trudged across 40 feet of mucky, knee-high snow, perhaps ruining his suit and shoes, to check on my welfare. I was verily moved by his concern and thanked him profusely for his efforts, however unneeded they might have been. And lastly, one of Ontario's finest eventually rolled up alongside me to check things out. Let me say, I was very impressed by the OPP officer's concern for my well-being. He needed several reassurances that I had heat, water and a phone before he, too, drove on.

Sitting in a ditched car on the side of a highway in the middle of a snowstorm, with my trusty Treo and 5 CDs of The Ongoing History of New Music for company, I was actually able to get a lot of work done, even confirming that my TA and another professor would take my class. The tow was quick, however, and quite a learning experience. I was able to make it to my class 15 minutes late, trundling in, wet and muddy, to be met by the giggling faces of my no-doubt bemused students.

The lesson: had I just continued on at my break-neck pace without stopping to re-fill with wiper fluid, I would have been completely fine.

In Other News...

Mischa sends us this story about a high school science teacher who has managed to explain the decision making process around Climate Change. I have long argued that the issue boils down to a risk management exercise. But this fellow explains it much better than I ever could. Here he is:



Lastly, I have just this second purchased a One Laptop Per Child laptop. This is a development initiative intended to provide a robust, usable laptop computer for every child in the world, especially those denied a standard education. For every one that an American or Canadian buys, one is bought for a poor child in the Developing World. Or you can just choose to buy one for the child. There are criticisms of the development model, but there's no denying the purity of intent or the quality of the product. Cheap, robust laptops like this one --as a direct result of this humanitarian project-- will become the industry norm. Before that happens, I want this project to get a true opportunity to work, so I'm putting my money where my mouth is.

To read about the project and to buy a laptop yourself, visit the OLPC site. Here she is; ain't she a beaut?

Sunday, December 02, 2007

What We've Learned From AIDS


Today (or, more precisely, yesterday) was World AIDS Day, whose intent and focus is fairly self-evident. To mark the day, activist and educational events took place the world over, including at the University of Ottawa. Several of my international health students organized and took part in such events, many of which took place over the week leading up to World AIDS Day. I must say, the few student run events that I was able to observe really impressed me. I am extremely proud of these young women and men; teaching them is a joy --though sometimes also a pain in the ass. But mostly a joy.

HIV/AIDS is, of course, the great scourge of our time. Malaria kills more people. Diarrhea kills more children. Tuberculosis has a greater global burden. Mental illness has a greater global disability burden. But HIV/AIDS is a particularly insidious disease that cripples economies and eradicates whole societies. In some communities in sub-Saharan Africa, society has been decapitated by the disease, with only small children left to exist in a world devoid of adults. A generation of dispossessed orphans results, with the economic, political and moral impact that such a phenomenon represents.

Yet, at one of the World AIDS Day events, my friend and colleague Dr. Paul MacPherson mentioned that, in some ways, AIDS has had a positive impact on the world. His statement has inspired me to list some of the ways in which HIV/AIDS has changed us for the better:

  • We now have an undertanding of immunology light years beyond what we knew before the epidemic.
  • Nations have been forced to come together and forge agreements --such as TRIPS-- around the licensing of generic drugs and other such emergency measures which will come into play in future epidemics.
  • Many societies have been forced to consider the civil rights of homosexuals.
  • Heretofore powerful and seemingly selfish individuals, like Bill Gates, have stepped up to create organizations dedicated to the public good.
  • Issues like debt relief and other forms of large scale international development have reached the mainstream agenda.
  • We have developed educational and administrative controls over blood products and sexual behaviours which can be employed by public health forces to address other diseases, like hepatitis and STIs.
  • Common citizens, politicians and businessmen have been forced to learn more science.
  • The plight of Africa has inched ever so closer to the front page.
  • Entire new industries, focused on international health and development, have arisen.
  • The epidemic has inspired art, activism, organization and engagement in circles that otherwise might have remained apathetic.

Got any more?