Life of Pi, The Wild Robot, and Conclave--all excellent films

Traveling to and from the USA gives me the opportunity to catch up on my movies on the plane. On my recent flights to and from New York, I watched two excellent movies, Life of Pi from 2012, and The Wild Robot from 2024. I don't know why I didn't see Life of Pi earlier; there was a lot of hype surrounding the film when it first came out, and I often avoid films that are over-hyped because they often don't live up to all the fuss. But Life of Pi delivered. The director, Ang Lee, has made films like Brokeback Mountain, which was also excellent. He seems to be an eclectic filmmaker, which intrigues me. Life of Pi is an unusual (some would say very strange) story about a young man from India who is traveling to Canada with his parents and brother and some of their zoo animals (that are to be sold) to start a new life. They are traveling on a cargo ship that hits rough seas and capsizes, killing nearly everyone on board except Pi, a hyena, an orangutan, a zebra who has injured its leg, and a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. All of them end up in one lifeboat, with the expected consequences. The hyena kills the zebra and the orangutan, and the tiger kills the hyena, leaving Pi alone with the tiger in the boat. Pi understands that he can't stay in the boat with the tiger, so he fashions a boat out of life rafts and attaches it to the life boat. The movie is essentially about the relationship that develops/evolves between Pi and Richard Parker. It is not a comfortable relationship by any means, and Pi knows that he can never trust the tiger to not attack him. But he trains him to keep his distance, and a wary relationship between the two results. When Pi is finally rescued, he is asked to recount his survival story to the insurance company that insured the cargo ship; they want to know what happened to the ship and how he survived for over two hundred days in the Pacific Ocean. He tells them about the animals in the lifeboat and the tiger, and they do not want to believe that this was possible--that he could coexist with a Bengal tiger for so many days. He then tells them a second story--that the orangutan was his mother, the zebra was a sailor who had been friendly to him on board the cargo ship, the hyena was the odious cook on the ship, and the tiger was Pi himself, essentially saying that the cook had murdered his mother and the sailor, and that Pi had murdered the cook. The insurance company has problems with the second story, and though they do not really accept the first story, they end up using it (fewer moral implications). Pi himself tells a visitor who arrives at the beginning of the film and who has asked him to recount his strange story, that either story will suffice as an explanation for his survival. It's a film that captures your attention and draws you along for the ride. 

The Wild Robot is a beautiful animated film about an intelligent robot called Roz who ends up shipwrecked on an island inhabited by various wild animals. Roz is designed to serve human beings, but in their absence, she sets about trying to offer her services to the different animals with whom she comes into contact. They begin to flee when they see her, but she ends up befriending a fox named Fink and taking care of a little gosling that she names Brightbill, together with Fink. Along the way, she helps the animals on the island deal with surviving the winter and with showing them how important it is that everyone try to work together. I won't give away the ending, but it is very touching, as is the entire film. It's heads and shoulders above most of the drivel that passes for animated films these days, which are for the most part bland, boring and poorly-animated (perhaps generated on demand by AI programs?). I can wholeheartedly recommend The Wild Robot. It's already a classic in my book. 

And finally, Conclave. I saw it at the movie theater last night. It's an excellent film about the process of electing a new pope in the Catholic church. That might not sound so interesting, but trust me, it is, because the process encompasses the humanity, the foibles and failings, the politics, the drama, and the gossip involved. It's a riveting film with excellent performances by Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, and Isabella Rossellini, and it has one heck of a surprise ending. I think it's destined for Oscar recognition, and that would be well-deserved. 

Inconsistencies

The odd times we live in have given rise to inconsistencies that are just begging to be commented upon. 

The political party of family values, headed by two powerful and wealthy men, have fathered seventeen children between them via six different women. The same party is pushing for the birth of more children in the USA, but is not anti-divorce or anti-adultery or pro-marriage for that matter. Family values? Don't make me puke. Having more children is all well and good, but I'm assuming that if they're not pushing for polygamy in order to achieve that goal, this means that in monogamous marriages, wives should be willing to have more than one child, despite the fact that it costs a fortune at present to raise a child, buy a home, and pay monthly expenses. So is the party of family values willing to give young couples a break so that they can have large families? And do women get a say in how they want to live their lives? Just asking. This brings me to the next point.

If the party wishes to return to 1950s America, when family values were apparently sacrosanct, when women stayed home to raise children (more than one) while men as heads of the family worked to provide for their families, then I'll say to the younger men who like this philosophy, get your asses in gear. Or get off your asses. Get out there and hustle for an education and high-paying jobs. 1950s America is no place for losers. You're a loser if you don't make a good salary and provide a house for your family. And you can forget about getting any help from mommy or daddy. Men in America at that time, unless they came from truly wealthy families, did not get help from anyone. They made it on their own. So get out there and work for a living instead of living at home with mommy and daddy until you're thirty. Stop living life through your devices. Stop moaning and complaining that women aren't interested in you. They will be if you show them that you can earn money. THAT was 1950s America. It was no place for men who were losers in the job market, whiners, or complainers. And there was no safety net. 

The men who support the current political regime are the men most likely to lose under it. It is not a regime that supports losers, the poor, the uneducated. It says it does and says it will, but it won't. It will enrich the already-rich. Because most politicians at present, in both parties, have grifter tendencies. They are interested in enriching themselves. That's the world we live in, that's the world we've become. Eat or be eaten. It's about survival of the fittest. And those at the top of the food chain got there by eating those at the bottom of the food chain. Study Darwin and you'll learn all about evolution, which as much as you'd like to deny it, is a reality and a fact of life. 

And of course, along with the new regime, comes the resurgence of viewpoints about how women should behave. Women, like children, should be seen and not heard, unless they're the 'dollies' on Fox News as my friend calls them. If you look 'glam', you're acceptable to men. If not, you're invisible. The non-glam women should just know their place, in relationships and in society at large. They should acquiesce to men. When I was younger, I had a conversation with a priest friend of mine where we disagreed about the New Testament passage that talks about wives obeying (submitting) to their husbands. What is often ignored is the second part of that equation--the admonition for husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the church. I told the priest, when men can achieve that, when they can love their wives as Christ loved the church, then come talk to me about wives acquiescing to their husbands in all things. I haven't met one man who has managed that type of love, not one. The priest had no response, because he knew I was right. And while we're on the topic, why should women listen to others less intelligent than themselves about how to live and think? There are so many women I know who are far more intelligent than many men. How they think and feel about their lives is far more important to me than what some random men (read--politicians) I do not know or care about, think. 

Is the party of family values going to do something about the dying middle class? Will they continue to blame the less fortunate for their status in life? Because no matter what, a civilized society will always have to carry the less fortunate, because that is what civilized societies do. My father used to say that. Christ, who was a wise man, once said that 'the poor you will always have with you'. What kind of society blames it citizens for not being financially successful when that same society makes it impossible to for its citizens to get ahead? If you're in debt up to your ears because of high prices for everything, you have no chance. The rich blame the poor for being poor. But perhaps the truly rich should look at the advantages that they've had from birth. They are not the advantages that the poor have had, that's for sure. And trust me, if you haven't had those advantages, you can scramble and struggle an entire lifetime to achieve success and never reach the level of wealth and success that the rich enjoy. Because many of the rich inherited their wealth; they did not work or struggle for it. Average ordinary people, who belong to the middle class that I was born into, worked hard to get what they have. Most of them have achieved moderate success. Most of them are financially-comfortable. But most of them would go under if faced with staggering medical bills as a result of some illness that required expensive treatments or full-time nursing care. And most of them are careful with money, with how they spend it. That is not something the truly rich need to worry about. The current level of hypocrisy in society is appalling. Perhaps it's always been there, but I see it in its entirety now. We need to call it out at every opportunity. The time to rise up against it is now. 

Sunny and warm--welcome to south Florida in winter

This comic strip (Garfield by Jim Davis) was not our recent experience--we were there at the beach, in Florida, relaxing and enjoying the sun and warm water. 

 

 

My friends and I recently enjoyed one blessed week in south Florida--a respite from winter's darkness, snow and cold. Being in Florida is like being in another world, in the sense that it's hard to believe you can travel from bitter cold to blessed warmth by plane in the space of about three hours, within the same country. We rented a townhouse in Deerfield Beach this time around, a few blocks from the ocean; last year we spent a week in Fort Lauderdale at an apartment on the intercoastal. This year we had warm and sunny days for the entire week we were there. Balm for the body, mind and soul. We managed visits to Butterfly World in Coconut Creek (near Deerfield Beach) and Constitution Park & Arboretum, as we enjoy anything botanical and nature-related. 

At the entrance to the beach near where we lived. An hour on the beach can
also provide perspective. 

I love the plants and flowers in warm climates.

our townhouse

one of the Morpho butterflies in Butterfly World

at Butterfly World

one of the birds in the aviary at Butterfly World

another colorful bird in Butterfly World

overhanging tree branch in Constitution Park & Arboretum

a eucalyptus tree starting to shed its bark, leading to an array of colors

the ocean and the beach on a warm sunny day--there is nothing like them for relaxation

Putting things in perspective

Just what I needed today, a good laugh and a reminder that everything could be much worse......Thanks to Stephan Pastis and Pearls Before Swine......

Creating fear and outrage is the new normal

Since the beginning of January, I awake each day with a feeling of trepidation. I wonder what has happened during the night while I was asleep, because guaranteed something has happened to create fear or outrage or both. We live in strange times now, where politics has become an integral part of everyday daily life, whether you like that or not. We are surrounded by politicians screaming for our attention, the one more bizarre and outrageous than the next. Creating fear and outrage is the new normal. Making people feel insecure is the new normal. Pulling the rug out from under people’s feet is the new normal. Being confrontational, aggressive and adversarial is the new normal. Getting in your face, likewise. Where will it end? We are verbally attacking our allies overseas, causing them trepidation about whether or not they can trust the USA to be there for them if necessary. 

Creating fear and outrage is a policy tactic. Creating chaos likewise. The buckshot approach. Shoot your mouth off and watch the words spread out in all directions, no specific target in mind. The media can’t possibly focus on all directions at once, so where there is a vacuum or an oversight on the part of the media, fear and outrage move in. The public will panic and try to deal with what’s happening as best it can. Those being attacked will try to protect themselves, but after a while it’s exhausting to fight back. 

This buckshot approach may work in a business setting, but not when the setting is the governmental arena. It’s impossible to run the government as a business, no matter how many times we say that it all should work more efficiently. Downsizing the bureaucracy is not an overnight job. Even if it’s necessary to pare it down, it’s not right or ethical to dismantle it completely and throw it into chaos. People depend on functional bureaucracies for unemployment benefits, retiree benefits, health coverage, etc. The country will not function without bureaucracies. Those who attempt to downsize them should know what they’re doing, and should accept that it will take time. Let’s hope they don’t do more harm than good. 

Saying goodbye to Gunvor

My husband's aunt Gunvor died recently at the age of ninety-six. A long life, mostly a good one except for the past five years or so where she struggled with health problems--not being able to really walk and toward the end, poor blood circulation that led to the loss of toes. Through it all, she rarely complained, which I found admirable, because I doubt that would be me. I often said to her that she was a role model for how to age gracefully. She lived in a nursing home for the past seven years, and that by itself would test anyone's patience, even though they took good care of her. The family visited her often, so she was not left alone. And a family friend, Odd, who had lived next door to her when she still had her apartment on the river, was often there as well. 

I met her and her husband Åke in the early 1990s when I first moved to Norway. Both of them welcomed me into the family with open arms. We had many pleasant and memorable Christmas celebrations at their house in Fredrikstad until Åke's death in 1998, and then at our place in Oslo from then on. Odd often drove Gunvor to Oslo the day before Christmas Eve, we all had lunch together, and then Gunvor stayed with us until the day after Christmas. It was always nice to sit in the kitchen and talk about everything while we cooked on Christmas Eve. Gunvor helped with food preparation where she could. 

I also remember when my husband and I moved to San Francisco in 1993 in connection with his postdoc at the University of San Francisco. Gunvor and Åke visited us in October 1993 for three weeks, and together we explored San Francisco and the surrounding area. There was a particularly memorable trip to Napa Valley where we visited several wineries and tasted different wines. A wonderful trip. And then we visited Muir Woods with the gigantic old redwood trees, and also Alcatraz prison. And when Halloween came around, I remember that Gunvor was completely captivated by all the pumpkins in connection with Halloween festivities.

In 1999, I defended my doctoral thesis, and after the defense there was a dinner for almost forty people in one of the dining rooms at the local hospital. I was so stressed because we had to set the tables and set everything up ourselves. Gunvor and Åke helped set the tables and place flowers on the tables. They just saw that I needed help and they helped me without asking, and voila, everything was arranged.

I will always remember how hospitable and kind both of them were to me when I first came to Norway. They are forever in my heart. And I will always remember the good conversations I had with Gunvor about life and family and children (they never had any). I will miss her.

Glimpses into eternity

Sometimes when I'm looking out of my kitchen window on a particularly nice sunny day (like today), I get the feeling that I'm on the verge of understanding what life is all about. The meaning of life. I've been reflecting on that lately. It's hard to understand what the meaning of life is, really. And yet, sometimes I get 'glimpses' into another way of looking at life that disappear almost as quickly as they appear. What I do know is that there is an incredible peace associated with those 'glimpses'. Perhaps they are glimpses into eternity. All I know is that in those moments, it all makes sense to me, there is incredible peace, and what is clear is that the meaning of life has little or nothing to do with the nonsense that goes on in the world. It has mostly to do with nature that exists in parallel to the world we know and inhabit. It's hard to imagine that this planet we live on is the only one in the universe that supports life (as we know it). And yet, it seems that way. Many cosmologists think this is the case; who am I to argue with them? If that is the case, we humans are unique in the universe. We are special. But that does not mean that we can live with impunity as we proceed with our lives on this planet. The animals, birds and fish and all other life are also special. We know from the Old Testament that we were charged with taking care of the animals, birds and fish, that we have dominion over them. Dominion implies that we rule over them, however, I choose to interpret dominion as akin to the role of a shepherd. Our role is to guide and protect those over which we have dominion.  

Whenever I feel that I'm losing my bearings or my way, a brief time spent outdoors in the peace of a garden, park or forest sets me back on the right path. The right path may be different for each person. For me, it's about having a kind, orderly view of life, living life in concert with the natural world. A simple view, really, where each creature has its part to play, where each life matters. Where one does not go out of one's way to hurt or injure others. A view of life where the path is not jarred by the world's human nonsense and misery-- violence, aggression, entropy, disorder, inhumanity, cruelty. Of course I know that the world of nature can be brutal; the larger animals, birds, and fish prey on the smaller. There is cruelty in the natural world too. But because these creatures lack a conscience, they are simply living out their lives as they were created to do. They cannot feel guilt because their goal is survival. They do not kill for the sake of killing. They need to eat to survive, and as long as no one is providing food for them, they must obtain food on their own. With some few exceptions, they kill to eat. Brutal yes, but necessary. That is not the case for us. We kill with impunity in many cases--violent conflicts and wars come to mind. We lie, steal, argue and attack others and the natural world deliberately and with impunity. It's sad. It makes me wonder if any of these people have ever really reflected on the meaning of life in the context of the natural world. Do they reflect on the meaning of life, their own lives, at all? Do the politicians whose unkind, aggressive, and nasty policies and behavior ever think about the meaning of life? I wonder. I know that some do. However, in the current political climate, I'm not so sure. 

I wonder what would happen if we trusted more in God's ability to provide for us. I don't think we do that very often. It's often said that God helps those who help themselves, and while that's true, I think letting go and letting God is also a good way to live. It gives us a peace that we otherwise seem to have lost. What if we trusted God's plan more? Perhaps if we did, we'd get more glimpses into eternity, into another way of life that provides a peace unlike any other. Perhaps that would give us the strength to live correctly in the world. And perhaps there would be an end to the utter greed that is destroying us. 

Decluttering at the start of the new year

I've been doing a fair amount of sorting and decluttering since the new year started. Honestly, when you're dealing with a severe head cold and can't really spend time outdoors, there's plenty to do indoors in that respect. As in, cleaning up and getting rid of things that are no longer needed or simply taking up space. I call what I do paring down. Other people call it downsizing. Whatever you call it, it's a good thing. We all have more than we need, we all have too much. The tyranny of things. And really, what is the point of having things that sit unused in closets and hutches, gathering dust? There are plenty of people who don't have what we have, and if they can use what we give away, perfect. I usually donate most items to the local school flea markets that find place twice a year. Last year I donated at least eight bags of kitchen and house items. When you count the numbers of wine and water carafes that I've accumulated through the years, you'll understand that there's no way on God's green earth that I can use them all. So I've decided that I'm going to save those few items that I received as gifts many years ago, and give away the things to which I have no sentimental attachment. Things I may have bought on impulse that I used a few times and then put into a closet. I don't like to think of myself as an impulse shopper, but I guess I went through a period when I was. In any case, I no longer buy on impulse. And it has nothing to do with the cost of things, because at this point in my life, I can afford to buy what I want. But I want less now. Ah, the irony. 

I saw this online the other day, and read quickly through it. It may help those of you who are looking for ways to declutter. I already do many of them. 

We all know people like this 😊

Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis

Avery Corman's The Old Neighborhood

I can unequivocally recommend The Old Neighborhood by Avery Corman, published in 1980. It's one of those books that comes as close to perfect as an author can get. I imagine that when Corman wrote it, he finished it and understood that he had written a little masterpiece. Because it really is a little gem, for reasons that are almost too complex to put into words. The feelings the book engenders are those feelings that make one desperate to hang onto those aspects of life that one doesn't understand are truly important in the making of ourselves until we are much older. When we are young we are often so desperate to get away from the town and/or home where we grew up, for reasons that make sense--we need to let go of our childhood in order to become functioning adults--but at the same time we don't understand until much later how much those times formed us and even how much we miss them. 

I lived in the Bronx from 1980 until 1985, in and around the area where Corman's protagonist, Steven Robbins, grew up and eventually left. So I understand why many people did not want to stay there, even though the neighborhoods north of 200th street and the Grand Concourse were safe for the most part. I enjoyed my time there, but I would never have wanted to settle there permanently. By the time I lived there, much of the lower Bronx looked like a war zone, with decrepit and destroyed buildings and debris everywhere. It was not like that in the 1940s. But still, most young people growing up there in the 1940s and 50s wanted to leave the old neighborhood in their quest to become successful. That meant moving to Manhattan. Steven Robbins leaves his humble beginnings behind after being offered an ad-job in California. He becomes a successful advertising man, marrying a beautiful woman--Beverly--along the way, and raising two daughters with her. They live first in California, where she grew up, and then move to New York when he is offered an ad-job he can't refuse. Beverly is no slouch, and she eventually finds her niche in terms of using her art education. They both become successful after a time, but they end up growing apart as a result. It is Beverly who wants out of the marriage; Steven is perfectly willing to put the effort in to save it. But they're at different places in their lives when they divorce; after a summer apart at Beverly's request, she tells Steven that she wants only more success, whereas Steven, who has not been happy with his success in quite a long time, doesn't really know what he wants to do with his life. He just knows two things--that he doesn't want to work in advertising anymore, and that he doesn't want to lose Beverly, but he does.  

Corman writes matter-of-factly and succinctly for the most part, but there are parts that tug at your heartstrings, especially when he describes Steven's relationship with Sam the Bookie and his experiences playing basketball with the locals. Steven finds the happiness he's looking for when he returns to live in the Bronx area where he grew up after he and Beverly divorce. It draws him out of his lethargy and depression. He rediscovers himself and what matters to him. But eventually the people around him there change, die, or move on, and he faces another emotional life upheaval. He ends up moving to Manhattan and opening a collectibles/antiques store called The Old Neighborhood, where one can find items from a distant past. You can go home again or you can carry home within you, Corman says, and you can be happy. But you cannot hang onto the past anymore than you can hang onto a dead relationship or outmoded ideas. Life has a way of changing you, pushing you onward, and that is where the melancholy seeps in. Because we do change and move on, even if we sometimes think we have remained the same person no matter what. We haven't. Perhaps our values remain the same, because they were formed by the upbringing we had. But we are not the same. Even if we return to where we grew up, we cannot recapture what was. That would be the wrong reason for returning. But we can appreciate it for what it meant and means to us, for what it tells us about ourselves and why it makes us happy, we can savor the memories and relationships, and then let it go like we must let go of all things eventually. Life is about stepping out into the unknown, about taking risks, about trying and failing and trying again. Sometimes we get it right, and sometimes we don't. Corman understands that, and he has written a lovely story about a man who found himself and what mattered to him at mid-life.  Well-worth reading. 

Missing linear TV

It's strange, I never thought I'd say it, but I miss linear TV--good old regular TV--where the programs shown follow a predetermined program schedule like in the old days. For example, The X-Files was shown on Fridays of each week during the 1990s on the Fox channel if I remember correctly, so you definitely had something to look forward to each week. We own a smart TV and have subscriptions to several streaming channels, among them Netflix and MAX. But lately, I'm just plain tired of being able to watch television movies or series whenever I'd like, in whatever order I'd like. It's not so much the streaming aspect that bothers me as the overwhelming content and mediocre quality of most of it. Trying to find something to watch has become a chore. Satiation--there's too much of everything leading to that overfilled feeling--too many crime series, all with the same motifs and modus operandi. Rogue policeman or -woman stumbles onto a bizarre case, usually involving a serial killer who ends up targeting said policeman. Or there are kidnapped and missing children, pedophile rings, slave rings involving the capture and abuse of women, etc. All presented in a commonplace way, as though this kind of criminal activity goes on all the time. It doesn't. I've had enough of it. I don't want to watch this as entertainment, because it's simply not entertaining. As I said, there's too much of it. Satiation. Too much of a good thing, although I'm not sure I'd define much of the programming as 'good'. Most of it borders on junk. 

With some few exceptions, the episodes of streaming series are usually available all at one time, to be binged if one would like to. I don't like to, nor do I want to. The exceptions are to be found on MAX--My Brilliant Friend and The Gilded Age are two examples that come to mind. Upon their release, each episode is shown one at a time, one per week, and that's fine because it gives us something to look forward to. I suppose the appeal of Netflix is that you can watch as many episodes as you like all at one time; apparently younger people like to binge-watch shows. I don't want to. I'll watch an hour or so of television, and then I get restless and want to do something else. Read for example. There are so many classic books just waiting to be read, and I want to read them. 

Linear television created natural boundaries so that we didn't overdo television watching. Whether you liked it or not, you had to wait to see the next episode the following week. That's how we grew up, and I miss that. It prevented us from sitting in front of the television for hours at a time, mindlessly flipping through hundreds of channels, desperate to find something to watch. I remember my parents when we were teenagers; we maybe watched a show or movie together, and then the television was turned off and we read in the evenings. Or found something else to do. We had homework to do, so the television was never turned on before we had finished it. And we knew that, so we did our work and were rewarded. My parents understood that their time was limited, and they didn't fill their limited free time with useless television programs. Having said that, we did manage to watch a lot of the popular series of the day. So it's not that we didn't watch television, it's rather that television had its place in our lives. The television wasn't on 24/7 the way it is now in many people's lives. And that was a good thing. I miss those days. 

Rage in society

I've been thinking about rage for some time. The world is teeming with rage-filled people. Every day, there is another news story about a terrorist attack, someone being stabbed, shot, pushed in front of a subway train, terrorized by an ex-husband, murdered by an ex-husband, not to mention road rage and the inability to make a mistake in traffic without possibly losing your life over it. The list of rage-induced behaviors is long and everyone has an unfortunate story to tell. When you've been the recipient of another's rage, it's not likely that you'll forget it any time soon, if you live to tell the tale. 

What is rage? It is defined as violent uncontrollable anger. You certainly understand viscerally what rage is when you are unfortunate enough to experience it via another human being. Both men and women feel rage, but men are more likely to express their rage outwardly (acts of aggression) whereas women are less impulsive. Perhaps women weigh the consequences more, for various reasons. For women, not acting on their rage is often smarter, especially if the other person (usually a man) is likely to use violence against them in his rage outburst. It makes more sense to try to be a peacemaker in the interest of self-preservation; I would guess that is true for many women who would rather not end up bloodied and bruised at the hands of an angry man. The children of abusive parents learn that lesson very young; they learn to deflect, distract, and to dilute others' anger (and sometimes their own) in order to avoid potential abuse. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Women can say the same when dealing with violent men. 

There is such a thing as righteous anger. Righteous anger stems from a perception of injustice, that an injustice has been done to oneself, another person, another group of people. Righteous anger is not frowned upon as long as it does not lead to wanton violence and killing of those perpetrating the injustices. In our civilized societies, there are laws and courts to deal with the perpetrators of injustice. Those who hurt others out of their uncontrollable rage should pay the price--jail. We may rejoice when a perpetrator experiences karma--gets paid back for his or her transgression--but it still is best that they are dealt with under the law. We don't want vigilante justice to take hold in society. We had that once in the early days of our nation, and it was a brutal daily life for many people, especially when the vigilantes were the self-appointed 'sheriffs'. That didn't work out well. 

The anger in society is out of control. One need only witness the wars, conflicts, outward threats, veiled threats, and otherwise hostile interactions between nations, religions, leaders, etc. Aggressive rhetoric promotes aggression. Why do we elect politicians who foment hostility and aggression, even violence? Why is the world filled with angry old male politicians? Why do we want to be led by them? I'm not saying that women are necessarily better leaders, they're not. But in our civilized nations, more women should have the chance to lead countries. Nor am I saying that anger has no purpose, but continual anger lived out on a daily basis means that random acts of violent aggression, often with fatal incomes, will only increase. Is that what we want? Is that the world we want for our children and grandchildren? It is possible to identify societal problems, enforce laws, and promote peace without resorting to violence and vigilante thinking. It is possible to use anger constructively. More people should invest in anger management courses; I think they'd benefit from them. And perhaps it's time to kick the habit of watching too many violent tv series that depict murder and violence of all kinds graphically. I for one am mighty tired of all these kinds of shows and the behaviors they depict--indiscriminate use of guns and knives, stalking, murder, torture, serial killing, rape, kidnapping, home invasions, abuse of women, spousal abuse, and rage of all kinds. Why is this entertainment, day in and day out? What does it do to the minds of those who watch this as entertainment? It certainly is not entertainment. 

 

A view of January that I can agree with

Those of us who enjoy December and the Christmas season do not look forward to the month of January (this describes me, in any case). This was posted on the Happy Gardens Facebook site; I don't know who the creator is. 

Plants make it all alright

This describes me perfectly!

My wish for the new year

Wishing all my readers a very happy and healthy new year! Hopefully these words from Peggy Toney Horton will inspire you.......