Sure Sign Of Success: When Strangers Hate You

There are only three businesses doing well in America today -- undertakers, Campbell's Soup and me. How do I know my freelance business is doing well? Strangers hate me. Some days, they aren't even subtle about it. One day, I got a comment from a "Jason Nevins" for my 451 Press blog, Dealing With Headaches to read this:

I hate you.

And that pretty much sums up 2008 for me. I have more work than I can handle, I'm discovering that snark sells and I get emails from trolls. Among other work that has gone out on the web this year that I'll highlight for no particular reason:

* Have Animal Rights Gone Too Far?
* Why The EPA Sucks
* Defending Yourself From a Zombie Army With Angel Music Boxes
* How To Talk Like William Shatner
* Animals That Are Smarter Than Humans

Back to work.

Obama Wins Shelter Cat Vote

It's the dawn of a new time for America. Those who have been denied a voice in the political arena now get to participate in the democratic process. Four shelter cats led the nation's first "Kitty Caucus" where they voted for McCain or Obama by means of how often they used a red (McCain) litter box or blue (Obama) cat box. Obama won by one "vote". This was a promotional stunt by the Capital Area Humane Society in Columbus, Ohio. But, who knows? First we take the shelter, next we take Washington.

Why Animal Rights Supporters Should Vote For Obama

Not that my endorsement is going to make or break the 2008 Presidential election, but if you are concerned about animal rights, like I am, then Obama is the only candidate for you. Here's why:

The Economy

Obama's economic plan saves little ol' me about $3000. That's just me with an extra $3000 to help support animal charities and maybe (just maybe) adopt a dog that needs a home. (My dog Pony needs a dog). Without the average person getting some financial breaks, there won't be any money for animals.

The Environment

Obama is for investing in alternative energy solutions, not the incredbily polluting use of fossil fuels. Whenever the environment suffers, animals always suffer more than people.

Stem Cell Research

Obama is for stem cell research and other in vitro forms of experimentation. This will stop the use of lab animals.

In contrast, McCain and Palin are for sport hunting and cutting endangered species from the endangered species list. Also, Palin does not believe that global warming is real. McCain has also voted many times to reduce EPA standards and for off-shore drilling in a big way, even though that could lead to an environmental disatster.

But even if you don't agree with me, please vote. Then I'll shut up.

Animal Rights Being Ignored This Election

There are very few issues being discussed by the candidates for this Presidential election thing happening. I do prick my ears up whenever they mention health care, but other than that, they seem to only be talking to the rich, not to people like me. The financial and environmental crisis we are in is due to greed and selfishness whwn people think only of themselves.

Interacting with animals help you lessen your greed and selfishness. You begin to emphasize with others and wonder what they are going through (since animals can't talk). You can't care about your fellow countryman until you can care about all of the species in this country. That's why I think animal rights should be a priority in America. How you treat animals is going to be at the base of how you treat everthing else.

I wonder who the animals would voite for if they had the opportunity?

Since I started to write this, I'm happy to report that my home state of Pennsylvania has passed a huge revamp to the dog care laws, which will hopefully help to shut down all puppy mills in my state. Thank you, Govenor Ed Rendell and my Representative, Nick Micozzie.

Peter Gabriel at PeaceOneDay, Sept 2008

My heart has been broken so many times, I don't think I had anything left to break. Then I saw this and I felt my heart break again. It was recorded at the PeaceOneDay event on 21 September. Enjoy.

I'm Thinking of Getting a Gun

If John McCain and Sarah Palin win the Presidential election in November, I'm getting a gun. It's not because I feel as if it's my God-given right to own a gun or that I like blowing things to hell. It's strictly for survival. If these two are elected, sometime in the next ten years, American civilization will go belly up. And then I want to be armed with, at the very least, a flaming crossbow and a Louiville Slugger.

Am I Being Paranoid?

Well, let's see. Republican VP candidate Sarah Palin is from a Pentacostal Christain church called the Assembly of God. They believe in speaking in tongues, faith healing, banning books, teaching Creationism and the literal interpetation fo the Bible. On ABC News, Palin's former pastor said of his Church:

"Christianity has gotten too cerebral."

If there's anything Americans hate in their religion, it's having to think about it.

The Good News

So, what's the silver lining to this oncoming Republican cloud? It sure makes Paganism look good, doesn't it?

Given Another Chance

Believe it or not, this is NOT a picture of my late lamented model horse collection, but it looks pretty close. The photo here is just part of FAS Sue's collection. (Sue Sudekum is one of the world's prominant model horse collectors and has a great sense of humor). In the mid 1990's, I stopped counting at how many model horses I had because I was pushing 1,000, with well over 500 Breyers (my favorite brand of model horses).

Love Bites

When I fell in love with a homeless man in England, I sold a couple hundred of the collection and then abandoned the rest. (Well, I took five with me, but two had to be traded for food money and the other three died in the fire). My Mom took in two Breyers and three strange but cute toy horses, knowing that someday I would be back. I heard my ex-boyfriend got a hold of them and sold them, buying a truck and a down payment on a house with the money.

I shoulda stuck with the model horses. They were far more loyal than any boyfriend. I did come back to Mom, with pretty much nothing but the clothes on my back, my passport and my dog Pony. Some of those models I had since I was 5 years old. I still think of them as being alive. I assume they'd be ticked off at me for abandoning them.

I Thought Wrong

Imaginary friends, spirits, Breyers, whatever -- they never really die. They just migrate from object to object. This happens with many things like books, record albums and heirlooms. If they are meant to come back to you, they find a way.

I can't go crazy trying to replace all of my favorite model horses, because I don't have the money or the storage space. That and I do have a business to run. I came back to America in September of 2005 and only have been able to afford to replace five models. (Just my luck -- they cost $5 in 1980 and now cost around $50 today). Number six is currently on the way to me this week.

But it feels like they've forgiven me, since I know have a little spending money, so that's all I care about. I've been given another chance. I don't get a second chance at many things at life, so I'll take any chance I can get.

Birthday and Deathday

Today is Pony's 4th birthday. The world has been blessed with four full years of Pony. Perhaps you can tell your children where you were on the day Pony was born. We are planning to have a party today at my father's.

However, one of my goldfish died this morning, Ghost Fish (ala Twin Comet). All I found of him was half a spine and part of a skull stuck to the filter intake valve. He was the only fish of the lot that didn't grow. He originally was the largest fish of the bunch -- then he was the smallest. He lived with me two days shy of ten months. I don't know why he died. He didn't look sick.

I keep looking at the other four suspisciously. Did they kill him and eat him or only ate him after he died? There's a happy topic for Pony's party later today. On that note, this would be a good time to announce that I've been hired to write yet another blog, Depression Talk.

I'm Burnt Out

I apologize to the two readers of this blog for not updating it in a while. I've been so busy working that I haven't had time to blog about my work. For the last year or so, I've been working and average of ten hours a day seven days a week. Although I love writing, I think the job is getting to me. That and the new medication I'm on to prevent migraines (verapamil).

There are days when my body just gives out. It's hard for me to take a day off, as I'm still not used to the concept of freelancing to be the job I'll do for the rest of my life. I keep having nightmares that I have to go back to work at Kmart. So, I'm trying to get the most I can, I suppose.

I now make myself watch television two nights a week. That's my "holiday". I watch Star Trek: The Next Generation on Monday nights and Greatest American Dog on Thursday nights. And I feel guilty doing it, too. I'm such a rebel.

In PG News: The latest Gabriel was born on July 5 and was named Luc. This is Peter's fourth child and second son.

George Carlin: Truthteller

Generally, I don't give a flying fart about the welfare of other people. I pretend to, because it's socially required of me. But on the whole, I hope the human race commits suicide en mass by tomorrow morning. No, wait -- I have a package from Amazon.com coming in the mail. The human race can drop dead next week.

But one of the very few people I would save from a burning building was George Carlin. He was one of my heroes, up there with Peter Gabriel. Granted, if both George and Peter were in a burning building and I could only save one, I'd grab Peter first. George is from New York. Negotiating burning buildings should be daily fare for him.

However, that scenario is moot because George died on June 22. America has lost its last great famous truthteller. We're left without a moral compass now. I didn;t like everything George did (especailly his second book) but I heard enough to know that George often had the same questions I did and came up with very original and articulate answers.

I didn't think George's death would upset me so much. After all, he was 71, so it wasn't a total shock. But I'm seeing him everywhere now -- even on the New Zealand environmentalist blog I write for. When I read a book or medicine instructions, it's his voice in my head.

Critics of George said he was cyncical. He wasn't -- almost everything he said was absolutely true. It shows you how bad things are -- and yet we can still find the humor in it. That may be our species' only saving grace.

I Want To Donate My Breasts To Charity

Now that Peter Gabriel is having his fourth child with his second wife, it's become painfully obvious to me that my breasts no longer serve any purpose of luring Peter over to The Dark Side.

I'm really getting sick of my breasts. The serve no useful purpose now that I've been celibate for nearly 4 years. Now all they do is get zits and point to opposite ends of the compass. They used to be men-magnets -- now all they'll probably ever attract is cancer.

There must be some way I can get rid of my breasts and help make the world a better place at the same time. My breasts keep changing in size. Surely, some breat deprived person needs a breat donation of some kind. There must be some poor soul in the Make A Wish foundation who's final wish is "Get my tits back."

I wonder how much the IRS would reimburse me for donating my breats to charity? Perhaps Peter could use them to auction off for one of his charities.

There I go again.

Odds and Sods

Suddenly, I'm the popular web content writer and have been so busy I need to turn down work. So, here's a quick round up of some news items in my life and updates on stories previously mentioned in previous posts.

Congratulations to Peter Gabriel and his latest wife. She's expecting what will be Peter's fourth child. He's revealed that they already know that it's a boy. He does not reveal when the latest Gabriel is due. This will make the Gabriel kids equalled at two girls and two boys. I think Samuel would be a good name.

I have a new job as one of the two bloggers for WebbleYou Blog Network's Animal Lover. It makes a great change of pace writing about animals. However, I don't know how long this job will last, as I have yet to have a reader make a comment on the blog.

Joe Paterno (who has been coaching Penn State's football team probably before football was even invented) gave us all a scare by being briefly hospitalized, but checked himself out. He tells reporters that it was "no big deal". We've heard that before.

Congress is to hold a hearing on the Thoroughbred horse racing industry June 19 (yes, THIS June 19). I don't think it will help the horses at all, but at least it puts the sillness and cruelty of the "sport" into public light.

I have another new job at eHow. As a joke, I proposed to do How To Live Like Howard Hughes, and they bought it.

My hard-working carpenter father has finally retired at the age of 67. Congrats, Dad! Time to party.

Until next time, remember to keep on taking the painkillers.

Note: The Latest Gabriel is due June 27...yes, THIS June 27.

Did the Mormons Plot to Kill Howard Hughes?

Usually, I blame Tom Cruise for everything, but he wasn't even born when the events that happened to Howard Hughes transpired. Besides, Tom is a Scientologist, not a Mormon. (Yes -- there is a difference).

Anyways, during the last twenty years or so of his indiosyncratic life, billionaire paranoid Aviator extraordinare Howard Hughes had a whole army of aids, security guards, suerveliance crew and drivers that were all Mormon. The legend goes that Hughes was talking on the phone to some Hot Shot's PA on New year's Eve and realizes he was talking to someone who was stone cold sober. "I'm Mormon, so I don't drink or smoke," was the answer.

So, Hughes hired a Mormon. Somehow, this Mormon managed to push out all other employees and have them all replaced by Mormons. It won't be any shocking news to know that Hughes spent his last yeatrs in a drugged stupor, where he was easily maniupulated to giving away his fortune to the "Mormon Mafia" (as his aids were called).

You wonder why the Mormons bothered. Perhaps it was the money. Perhaps it was a shitload of money. Then again, I wonder if the original Mormon employee thought, "I could really make this sinner's life a living hell. And it would serve him right, because I'd be doing God's work."

After all, Hughes was not exactly a poster boy for morality (mainstream, Christian or Mormon). He held hundreds of people's lives in the palms of his hands and really couldn't care less what heppened to them (not through bad morals -- but through the at least head injuries he sustained in his lifetime).

I bet you most of the Mormons who mistreated and robbed Hughes felt perfectly justified in what they were doing.

And if we think we are better than those Mormon aids, then we really don't know ourselves very well.

Todays' Sad Git Is Racehorse Trainer Larry Jones

When you want to absolve yourself of all responsiblity, what do you do? Blame someone else, that's what. Usually, God is the one that gets the blame. Racehorse trainer Larry Jones, trainer of Eight Belles (euthanized on the track at this year's Kentucky Derby) is not blaming greed, inbreeding of Thoroughbreds or the media for the on-camera death of his filly.

Jones said that two nights after the Derby he spent time reading his Bible and trying to understand why he lost Eight Belles. A strong thunder-and-lightning storm hit Delaware Park at the time, which Jones said he took as a sign from above.

"He [God] let me know it wasn't my horse. It was his horse long before I ever knew who she was," the trainer said. "This was her purpose, and he did not let her suffer."

Way to completely confuse the issue of cruelty in horse racing, Mr. Jones, by pointing the finger to invisible powers. Must've learned that tacatic from George Bush.

We don't even know what the person nect to us on the bus is thinking, and yet Larry Jones know all about what's God's thinking. It's always dangerous to interpert the Will of God, for any reason. One day, He may sue for libel.

When Wishes Are Horses

Sorry, not feeling funny today. Another nationally-televised unnecessary death due to horse racing in yesterday's Kentucky Derby. This post from last January is just as relevant now as then. Just the name has been changed. There is NO difference between dog fighting and horse racing. It's all cruelty in the name of human entertainment. Here's the original post:

Barbaro died today. I am glad his owners tried to save him -- that's what a racehorse owner should do but rarely does. But I think the American public is hypocitical. Thousands of race horses die every year, in far worse situations than Barabaro's. Even being a Kentucky Derby winner can't guarantee that the horse won't be slaughtered for meat.

Racing Thoroughbreds are magnificent, fragile babies that can barely support their own weight, let alone that of a jockey's. They run until they literally implode, because we ask them to. The entire gene pool is derived from just three stallions. Funny how no one wonders about what that might do to generations of animals.

These animals are bred for speed, not to survive. What are we DOING? Winning a trophy should not be so high up on our priorities that we condem millions of horses to misery. I've got a feeling if the situations were reversed, the horses wouldn't do it to people. They're not that greedy.

I used to worship horse racing. Football fanatics had nothing on me. I knew statistics, bloodlines; collected books, movies and artwork about racehorses. As a kid, I'd daydream about having my own racehorse.

Then, as I got older, I grew up. Seeing Charismatic being overtrained for the 1999 Triple Crown made me afraid to watch a race he was in, for I knew it was only a matter of time before he'd go down. And he did. And no one said boo. All they wanted to know was "Who do you like in the next race?"

It appalled me. I'd wasted years of my life on a sport that cared not one whit for the very animals it needs. I shocked my family and friends when I no longer watched races and wanted nothing to do with them. But I love horses more than what I looked like to others.

And I've never regretted it. I learned about other things, like paganism. The money, land and tracks of the racing industry can be used for better things, like building homes for the homeless, sheltering abandoned animals or becoming halfway homes for suddenly unemployed racehorses.

And the Thoroughbreds won't even mind if their breed goes extinct. The only ones who would mind are people.

Dogs Have The Right To Live With People

During the past month, I haven't had many spiritual epiphanies but did get a couple more clients. One is writing for a New Zealand-based enviornmental blog called Celsias. I did one of my usual cute yet sarcastic posts about what dog owners may have to do in the future when their aren't any more free plastic carrier bags around to clean up doggy doo-doo.

Some of the comments were, quite frankly, appalling. More than one wrote that pet dogs should be banned for the sake of the health of human children. And they seemed to be serious.

I'm not sure what happened in these poor posters' lives to make them so anti-dog, but banning dogs is not the answer to our enviornmental problems. I'm sure Big Oil and Dow Chemical would love to make dogs' butts the scapegoats for global warming, but I don't think this conspiracy theory is gonna last too long.

We need dogs in our lives far more than we need other people. Animals don't pollute like people, they don't complain like people and they don't post nasty comments on blogs about banning humans from dog kennels. Dogs are just as sentient as we are -- perhaps even more so becuase of their abilities to forgive and accept -- and it is only because of them that many people have become more than just selfish consumers with opposable thumbs.

Pet dogs save their owners' lives every day. What's a bit of poo between friends?

Deities, Guns and Money

I love my job as a freelance writer. It's amazing the things you can learn. Just the other day, I discovered that God is a card-carrying member of the group Armed Females of America. The group doesn't go on to mention just what gender God is. Perhpas a male God would be given honorary female status if wanting to join the AFOA.

The mission statement reads that carrying guns is "A GOD GIVEN RIGHT" (their capitals) and that "WITH GOD'S BLESSING, and our diligence, we aim to remain free!" (By looking down the barrell of an elephant rifle, presumably).

I did not realize that the All Mighty needed a gun. I just kind of assumed that omnipotent thing excluded the need to stockpile weapons in an underground bunker.

Does anyone really need to invoke God's will in your desire to blow someone off the effing map? We all have a certain degree of paranoia and would like to always be able to defend ourselves. Especially those of us who have been victims of multiple physical assaults and robberies (such as I have).

However, I've also been shot at by people who mistook me for a deer, despite the fact that I have no physical resemblence to the animal. I look more like one of those flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. These are the Einsteins in Pennslyvannia that presumably have the right to own a lethal weapon as given by God. I guess God just shoved the guns in one hand and the beer in another.

After going through a lot of soul searching, I have come upon the illumination (with a lot of heavenly trumpet blasts and eardrums ringing) that it's NOT my God given right to own a gun (especailly since I don't know how to use one).

It's my GOD GIVEN RIGHT to own a machete.

When I lived in the woods in England, did I bother getting a gun? (And I easily could have). Naah. Just whip out a decent machete and let out a scream that could strip paint off the walls a mile away and suddenly you are suprizingly free of willing combatants.

I guess I could start the God's Chosen Machete Alliance and Freelancers Association of America. I could make some enough money to pay off my medical insurance premiums. Although it's my GOD GIVEN RIGHT to own a lethal weapon, it's not my God GIVEN RIGHT to get any life saving medical treatment after being wounded by my GOD GIVEN RIGHT.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Yes, silly me made a wish to get more clients and more work. I had a good reason for the wish, though. Medicare, in it's infinate lack of wisdom, dropped all of my health insurance despite me being classified in the "poverty" level of the national tax bracket. I need to double what I made last year in order to pay for my health insurance. So twice the work and it will be all spent -- on health insurance.

So I made my little wish to the universe.

And, of course, I'm now up to my seventh chakra in assignments. In one sense, it's nice to be busy. It keeps me from going postal over the cost of health insurance. But on the other hand, it means I can't do fun things like rant on here much anymore. Or sleep, for that matter.

In better news, I had two stories published in one week. Cataclysm Class is currently being ignored over at The Lorelei Signal and A Hero For Bobo is pissing people off over at Every Day Fiction.

Back to work. It's good for my health.

Free Tibet (or at least, put it on sale)

Quite a while ago, on 12/22/06, I made a few jokes about the Tibet situation. Since Tibet is trying to make a last stand all by their lonesome, I thought I'd wish them well by reposting that original blog post. Call it "classic Perfect Blog Title". Call it writer's block. Whatever. Good luck, guys. You're gonna need it.


As a gift to the world, I will tell you what I wonder about. Maybe it'll be good for a laugh or soul-search or both. No, I don't bother with those piddling questions like "Where did we come from?" and "Is there life after death?" Those just aren't too practical. I want to know how to find dry sticks to light a fire when I'm caught in a rianstorm in Somerset. Other things I wonder about:

• Is God/dess laughing His/Her/Its Ass off at us?"


• Are the penguins trying to take over the world? And if so, what can I do to hurry them up a bit?


• Right. Suppose the Dalai Lama one day wakes up and snaps and yells "Bugger the Karma!" and blows all the Chinese in Tibet away, despite that this would go against all he'd been saying all of lives, would anyone really blame him?


• Speaking of the Dalai Lama, how many times in his life has someone come up to him and said, "Hello, Dalai!"?


• About 20 years ago, comedian George Carlin came up with the idea for a feminine hygene spray called Sprunt ("Well, you'd never forget the name, wouldja?")? I'd like that stuff. How come this never was made?


• Wouldn't it be great if dog shit was edible?


• And, most importantly, When the bloody 'ell is Peter Gabriel gonna put another albumn out???

One Dream Dying

...or, at least, still hooked up to life support and smiling after the morphine injections. Yes, I'm in a GEAT mood today. I've had one piece of bad news after another the last couple of weeks and I still don't feel like writing about it here. (That's why I write it on blogs that pay me, instead. See how my mad little mind works?)But at least I thought I could get one very small dream to materialize into reality.

Now, the big dreams (getting a horse, enjoying a torrid relationship with Peter Gabriel, world peace through marijuana ice cream) have been packed away in the toy chest a long ling time ago. In my thirties, I've learned to dream a lot smaller. As the old bumper sticker goes: "When all else fails -- lower your expectations."

But I thought at least this dream would happen.

The dream that I could find all of my ghostwritten online articles and have them nicely organized into an electronic portfolio (accompanied by Peter Gabriel images). I passed the 1000th article ages ago and haven't a clue as to how many are out there. I give up. I'll hunt these articles down when I darn well feeel like it.

Hey, I copuld be complaining about the current ugly presidential election race. Which would you prefer to read?

Scale of Change

"Where are you going?" Mom recently asked me when i took a break from my office (which is in the house).

"I'm going to go have a cup of tea and watch my fish change color."

"Oh, okay."

My five goldfish aren't changing so dramatically that you can spot the differnce after one cup of tea, but I still marvel at their changes, nonetheless. That Napoleon, the smallest fish, has actually GROWN let alone change his dorsal fin color, is truly miraculous. Napoleon now has a trnasparant black spoton his dorsal fin. It's not a sickness -- it's just part of the fin is now black.

Twin Comet, once a metallic bronze, now has turned disctinctly silver. He has also grown jowels. That's one reason why I assume he's a he.

Twin Common, also once the exact same shade of mettalic bronze, is going through the most dramamtic transformation. S/he is getting a very dark dorsal stripe with a golden-yellow belly. Every couple of days, the yellow spreads up to the face. The base of the tail is now pinkish.

We humans should go through such changes in our lifetimes -- and not just our hair color. We should be born one color and then, when the mid-life crisis is about to set in, our skins suddenly switch colors overnight. Wouldn't that be fun? One month, you're a card-carrying member of the KKK, next month you are black.

Wouldn't that help us all get to know what our fellow humans have to go through?

Nahh, probably not. We'd just find something else about the neightbors to bitch about.

Well, back to watch the fish change some more.

The Aged of Aquarius

This is Betty from Ontario, who is a heck of a lot cuter than another photo of me. Also, she has more rhythm. This image was nicked from Cute With Chris. I thought a cute kitten shakin' her groove thang would help ease the reader into this particular blog post.

Lots of good stuff and bad stuff have been happening in my life, as perhaps for everyone else in the world. I got dropped by Medicaid due to a paperwork error, but hopefully that can soon be resolved. Although I'd love to be able to vountarily drop Medicaid, I don't make enough money at my freelancing career yet.

Also, this has happened at an incredibly inconvienient time. Two of the very few people I really love in this world have their birthdays in early February. Fortunately for my memory, they have them on consecutive days. My Mom's birthday is today, February 12 and Peter Gabriel's is tomorrow (February 13). That makes them both under the sun sign of Aquarius. And both are sterotypical Aquariuses, too. Trying to get them presents has been horrible.

Last year, I sent Peter a rant, but I've mellowed with age and this year sent him a copy of "Peter & Sid".

Last year, I was able to get Mom her favorite Crabtree & Evelyn soaps -- this year I could in no way manage the soaps. Besides, she would be expecting them. So, I got her a canister of mixed nuts and a donation in her name to help take care of seal lions in California.

I'll probably never know how Peter liked his gift, but Mom's gift went over really well.

But now I can't rest -- I have to get my act in gear to give the IRS their present on April 15.

So Scary It Could Cure Hiccups

Yes, that's actually a photo of me this time around, instead of a cute animal or birdie avatar. It was taken when I was in line for soup and sarnies being given out to the homeless in the Bath Hilton parking lot on Monday nights. Ahh, the memories.

I've decided that both my writing career and my spiritual life would greatly benefit from a catch phrase. I've decided on "So scary, it could cure hiccups", because I came up with it myself (sadly, all of the other clever catch phrases had been taken). I wonder how long this will take before it goes viral. I think it's a much more accurate description of 2007 than "Woot". It's also a frankly accurrate description of my writing career, physical appearance and spiritual life.

As proof that wonders never cease, I have been interviewed for my writing (not for a police interview, thankfully) by Every Day Fiction. It turns out, my flash fiction Peter & Sid was the most read story on the website in the month of December. To reward me, I was interviewed.

Also, I just got notice that one of my wacky articles made it to the home page of Helium for the week of January 21. Hopefully, those hiccups are all gone now.

This Is Pony

Can you resit the cuteness? Bow down before the might of Pony, you mere mortals!

Yes, I have finally been able to get onto the web a photo of my beloved English Mongrel who has saved my life more times than I care to admit. I promise I won't turn this blog which is suppossed to be about my spiritual life into a slide show of my dog. Pony is my guru, so she deserves some space on the blog.

This Christmas, I finally got a scanner. Be prepared for The Many Ears Of Pony (which I might develop into its own blog. Just show Pony with her ears in a different position for each day of the year. Well, if Chris Leavins can do it...)

What Will Happen When The Dalai Lama Dies?

EDIT:  If you want to see a better-written, more thought out version of this article, please check out my Yahoo! Voices version.  Thanks!

Yeah, I'm opening the new year with a heavy thought. This was originally a blog about my spiritual journey. and I've strayed from that a wee bit. In the last few years, my spiritual journey has been heavily influenced by the teachings and the life of the Dalai Lama, one of my personal heroes.

The Dalai Lama is considered the soul of Tibet. The Statue of Liberty has nothing on the Dalai Lama as being the major symbol of a nation. However, Tibet as a country really no longer exists since the Chinese did whatever they are calling their forcefully taking over of a country now. However, being a Tibetan is more than just living in Tibet. The Dalai Lama is perhaps the most quintessential Tibetan and he hasn't set foot inside Tibet since 1959. It is theorised that when he dies (and he is currently 72), that with him will die any hope of a free Tibet.

The current Dalia Lama is considered the fourteenth incarnation of the God of Compassion. Wouldn't the Dalai Lama just come back in another life? Possibly, but the odds are this Dalai Lama would be killed by the Chinese if discovered. Also, since the troublesome Tibetans revere the Dalai Lama so, the Chinese are sure to present a new and Chinese-friendly 15th Dalai Lama.

However, we've seen this before haven't we? We have with the nation of Israel. Perhaps today's Tibetans are the new Jews...I guess that didn't sound right. But the Jewish people lost their homeland and were persecuted for thousands of years (still are, arguably) but finally got their own nation back.

How did the Jews survive for thousands of years? Tradition and a unique spiritual life.
Perhaps this can serve as inspiration for those displaced and exiled Tibetans living today. We can also extrapolate this into other areas of our lives, even if we are not Tibetan, Chinese, Jewish or Buddhist.

Right. Back to the usual silliness next time.