My Dog Eats Poo: A Disgusting Allegorical Tale

Culture, Politics, Politics & Culture, , , , ,

Our current oldest dog, Elsie, is a sweetie; she’s the princess of our little doggie family. She’s an English Springer Spaniel which, for my money, is one of the most beautiful breeds of dog. She is also probably the smartest dog we have. Now, at thirteen, she’s almost blind, and pretty much deaf (although the deafness seems to come and go a little bit, depending on what you’re saying to her), and fairly constantly confused. She spends most of her days napping on the couch, although, due to her arthritis, she frequently needs help getting up there. Even though she’s not the cute little puppy she used to be, everybody still loves Elsie. There’s just one problem: she eats poo. She seems to like it best when the weather is cold (poocicles!), the colder the better (crunchy poo!), although she doesn’t turn up her nose at it when the weather is warm either (gummy poo!).

Elsie, the Princess of our little doggie family

There’s nothing like seeing this beautiful little dog wandering around the yard, and then she looks up at you, and she looks like she’s doing an imitation of Winston Churchill, with a big ol’ poo stogie hanging out of her mouth as she enthusiastically gnaws on it. It’s kind of funny, but disgusting, and no matter how we try to keep the yard clean, with four dogs, there’s always some out there. It also doesn’t help that two of the four are big dogs with consistently impressive output. At least she’s not a big licker; trust me, nobody wants puppy kisses from Elsie.

The weird thing is that she’s a picky eater, and getting pickier every day. We’ve got her on special dog food formulated for older dogs, and she ate it for a while, and then just stopped. For a couple of days, we just couldn’t get her to eat. Finally, my wife, the beautiful and compassionate Jess, started mixing canned dog food in with Elsie’s kibble, and she started eating again.

She’s the same way with her medicine; she just pretty much refuses to take it. She’s on two different types of pills, and wants nothing to do with either of them. She would take them from Jess (well who wouldn’t?), so it was no big deal for a while, but when Jess went back to work, I had to give them to her, and she wasn’t having any of it. For a while, I could stuff the pills into chunks of hot dog, but she got wise to that; she’d chew up the hot dog, spit the pills out, and then swallow the hot dog.

This caused numerous problems because, for one thing, at this point, the pills smelled like hot dog, so I had to get to them before the other dogs (who seem to believe they are perpetually being starved) scarfed them down, and secondly, now, the pills were all slimy and hard to get hold of, but by the time I caught Elsie (who knew what was coming, and still moves pretty fast for an old dog), they had become spit-glued to my hand, so when I finally got her jaws pried open, the damned pills wouldn’t come off of my fingers. So there I was, having the thumb I was using to keep her mouth open gnawed through, while trying to scrape the pills off my finger with her teeth, without dropping them out of her mouth. It was a traumatic experience for both of us, and there were some days when she just didn’t get her pills.

Meatloaf seemed to solve the problem, at least until the leftovers ran out, but to be honest, I kind of resented having to save the meatloaf leftovers to pack her pills in (I love her, but I also love cold meatloaf sandwiches), and cooking an entire meatloaf just for her seemed like going just too far. I tried just mixing her pills in with her food, but she would eat around them. Trying to keep her comfortable and alive is no easy task.

For now, we’ve solved the problem with peanut butter; we stick the pills in a big glob of it, and stick it to the side of her food bowl. That’s worked for a couple of weeks, but this morning, when she’d finished breakfast, sure enough, there were the pills, spit-glued to the bowl, licked clean of peanut butter. I don’t know what we’ll do if the peanut butter stops working. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve actually thought of going out to the yard, and sticking them into some poo. Hopefully it won’t come to that. Also, I’m not sure she wouldn’t just eat the poo and spit the pills out. It’s really kind of disturbing. She sees the yard as one great big smorgasbord, greedily scarfing down all the recycled dog food she can find, but the stuff she needs, the stuff that will keep her alive and relatively healthy, she will go to any length to avoid.

It seems to me that she approaches food with the same attitude that we humans approach reality. More and more, we seem to seek out the reality we want, the reality that tastes good to us, no matter how shitty it might actually be (and a lot of that poo is really shitty).

For at least a year now, we, as a nation, have been gorging ourselves on an all-you-can-stomach poo buffet, with no sign of slowing down, much less stopping. We schlerp it up on the Facebook and Twitter, on the radio and TV, even go hunting for wilder and more rarified varieties in the untamed jungles of the internet. We just can’t get enough, or at least not enough with our packaging preference (after all, poo is just poo. A dog turd is a dog turd, whether it’s dressed up to suit the purposes of the right or the left). Plus, with electronic poo, with brain poo, there’s always plenty to go around, so we can not only share our favorite poo with all our friends, we can also inflict it on our enemies (’cause that’ll show ’em!). Besides, you know how they say we only use like 5% of our brains (although personally, I think that’s a high estimate for much of the world’s population), so we clearly have lots of poo storage available. Let’s shovel some more in!

Most of the time, it’s not even specific poo, it’s just broad, generic, generalized poo. So much of it is “liberals all do this” or “Conservatives all think that” or “all protesters want to destroy America” or “all politicians are corrupt” (actually, this is one of my own favorites. That’s why I keep using the term “we”).

Granted, sometimes it’s kind of funny – every time I see one of those “shares” that says “Watch Bill O’Reilly DESTROY Obama!” or “Rachel Maddow CRUSHES Mitch McConnell with this argument!”, I get a visual in my head of the allegedly “DEMOLISHED” party exploding, or melting like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz, which is kinda fun, except it never really happens. They’re never even slowed down, much less destroyed or demolished (That’s one of the problems with the Facebook & Twitter: It gets used by a lot of people who either don’t know what words mean, or just don’t care).

But really, what are our options? Oh sure, there are books we could read, books by great thinkers and writers, who’ve really studied the world & what it means to be human, what it means to be a citizen of the nation or the world, who’ve spent a lot of time trying to answer the big questions, and of course, reading those books might make us wiser and smarter, but isn’t it just easier, more efficient, and just tastier to our brains to just trust the makers of memes read that stuff, digest it, and poop out the important parts? It’s really like being on a diet. Reading Thomas Carlyle or Thomas Paine or Voltaire is just going to turn us into fatheads (especially Carlyle – that guy never used one word when ten would do); it’s just too much. Besides, reading books might make us think, and dammit, we’re Americans! Thinking didn’t make this country great! Getting out and doing stuff made this country what it is today (granted, genocide, slavery, exploitation of immigrants, women, and minorities are some of the things we got out and did, but you’ve gotta take the good with the bad, right?)!

Stuffing ourselves on pre-digested, pre-packaged, intellectual poo leaves lots of brain-room for remembering sports, movie, or book trivia, or to remember all the passwords to our accounts on the Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Reddit, and all the rest (because if we can’t remember our passwords, how are we going to get our yummy intellectual excrement).

Reading and thinking is really just too much like taking our medication or eating healthy; yes, we all know it’s probably better for us, but who has the time? We’ve gotta get out and do stuff – although “getting out and doing stuff” seems to involve a lot more video games, Netflix, and watching other people doing stuff on TV, but why argue semantics? The point is: We’re Americans! We eat Poo! It doesn’t matter whether it’s greasy fast food for our bodies, or intentional misinformation for our brains, we’re apparently not gonna stop.

So there!

 

 

 

Now What?

All About Me, Arts, Books and Literature, Culture, Politics, Politics & Culture, , , , , , , , , , ,

I’m freeeeeee! Finally, at the age of 51, I’ve graduated from college. Yay me. I’ve spent the last 3 1/2 years busting my butt, studying, reading, thinking, and writing, and it’s come down to this: I got an email the other day saying that they’ve checked, and yep, I’ve completed all the requirements for a Bachelor of Arts (B.A.) degree in English with a concentration in Creative Writing (I do have to admit to some disappointment that its a B.A., and not a B.S. degree, although, as some have pointed out, I’ve had a degree in BS for decades. Still, it would be nice for it to be official).

The last semester was particularly hard. It’s difficult to concentrate on Frances Burney’s Evelina, or, The History of a Young Lady’s Entrance into the World, first published in 1778, when the whole world seems to be losing its shit. Seriously. In the (sur)real world, we had Donald Trump, whose chief accomplishment seems to be losing money on casinos (and in fairness, even I would find that difficult) vs. Hillary Clinton, who is most famous for being the only politician on earth who has spent her entire existence under congressional investigation (and inconclusive investigation at that).

On top of that, we had dozens of examples of malfeasance by both parties, the campaign was virtually issue-free (why waste time talking about the future of the country, when you can just get on TV and sling shit at your opponent? It’s like the whole thing was held in a monkey house full of incontinent chimpanzees). Finally, Trump won, despite losing the popular vote (by almost 3 million votes), and all of a sudden, it seems like everyone is talking revolution; lefties are gearing up to stop Trump no matter what (although honestly, if they couldn’t get their shit together enough to beat Trump during the election, it seems fairly naive to think they’ll get it together now), and the rightest of the right wing are proposing armed revolt if Trump turns out to be a disappointment to them (it’s like cognitive dissonance has become viral).

So like I was saying, it was really hard to concentrate in school. All the time I was supposed to be writing papers, and reading books, I just couldn’t help thinking about all the stuff I wanted to write for Moonsthoughts. Every conversation would turn to politics, and I’d think, “Ooooh, that’d make a good post,” and “Hey, I have thoughts on that subject too!” I have to admit, I wasn’t really doing my best work there at the end.

And now, 2-3 weeks later, I’m free to write whatever I want . . . and I’ve got nothing. I’ve started several posts, and given up on them all. Part of it may just be ennui, after straining my brain for school, but I’m more afraid that it’s just . . . well . . . despair? resignation? depression? I thought that things would change after the election. I thought that, no matter who won, everybody would calm down, lay off the panic buttons, and maybe start talking to each other again (what can I say; I’m an optimist). Sadly, that doesn’t seem to be the case. All the craziness and hyperbole (on both sides) just seems to keep getting worse.

Most people seem to just want it to be over, to forget about it, to get back to their lives. I’ve had at least two conversations in the last couple of weeks, with intelligent, reasonable, compassionate people who just want to stop talking about all this stuff. This is the wrong approach to take, I think. There’s way too much of just sticking our heads in the sand in that response. Of course, I think it’s also because we were all white, straight, married, Christian, several-generation American, lower-middle-class to middle-class people. The only thing we really have to worry too much about is our own slow slide into poverty (which does seem increasingly likely). Nobody wants to register us, or deport us, or revoke any of our rights, so we’ll probably be okay with our heads in the sand for at least a few more years. Yay us!

The only way I see things getting any better, is if we (and I mean all of us), pull our heads out of the sand (or wherever else they may currently be inserted), and talk to each other about the issues, about the ideas, about our fears, about what direction the country should take. We need to get off the talking points, stop talking about the politicians, and stop talking about what they want us to talk about.

One of the things I learned in college is that you don’t learn a whole lot from people you agree with. We need to talk to people we don’t agree with; to find out why they feel the way they do, to let them know why we feel the way we do. Of course, in order to do that, we’ll have to learn to stop communicating in memes, to stop parroting the misinformation machine that feeds both sides a steady diet of Bullshit.

On the Facebook, I’ve got a lot of pretty hard-core, right-wing friends. I’ve also got a lot of hard-core, left-wing friends. If I’m honest, I have to admit that I find the left’s bullshit much more palatable, but that’s why I don’t unfriend or unfollow my right-wing friends. I don’t want to live in an echo chamber. I know a lot of people who voted for Trump; some who did so proudly, and some reluctantly, but I have no problem with anyone, based on who they voted for. Whether I like it or not, I can understand the reasoning (or at least most of it), to some point, anyway. I think they’re wrong, but being wrong doesn’t make them bad people (to paraphrase a famous guy I used to know).

We’ve got to see past the generalizations. I’m soooooo tired of seeing right-wing propaganda that refers to all liberals as “libtards” or worse, and I’m just as tired of left-wing propaganda that refers to all conservatives as fascists. It’s bad enough in the memes, but when people I know start slinging that kind of crap around, I really get kind of angry, because, (I’m gonna let you all in on a little secret here) I’m a conservative – more on that later.

It’s not just counterproductive, it’s stupid. I don’t know anybody whose entire existence can be summed up by one word. Like I said before, I know a lot of folks on the right, and even though I disagree with almost everything they say, I know that they are not fascist, racist, gay-bashing, Troglodytes consumed by hatred for anything that doesn’t look or act like them (at least not the ones I know). I also know a lot of folks on the left, and none of them hate America, or want to invalidate your religion, or to take any of your stuff away and give it to anybody else. Pretty much all of the folks I know, left and right, just want to live their lives according to their own lights. None of them wishes harm to anyone else. None of them want to hurt anybody, or rule over anybody. They just want to do their jobs, support their families, and live in peace.

We like things simple; we like the idea that there are good guys and bad guys, absolute right and absolute wrong, and we all, left or right, like to think that we’re on the side of the Angels (or the side of Right, anyway). That way we don’t have to think. We really hate to think. We really, really hate to think that we might not be absolutely, completely, 100% right on everything (although ironically, we do like to post about how flawed and imperfect we are on the Facebook, especially us Christians). We need to talk, and more importantly, to listen to people who think differently than us because, the chances are that on any given subject, neither of us are really, completely, 100% right on anything.

We’ve got to talk about this stuff; capitalism, socialism, gay rights, racism, abortion, women’s rights, freedom of religion/freedom from religion, guns, immigration, all of it, among ourselves. We’ve got to take the power out of the hands of the politicians, and back into our hands, where it should be. The powers that be don’t want us to come together; it’s much easier for them to get what they want if we’re too busy fighting with each other to look at them. Our loss is their gain.

We’ve all got to do whatever we can do to contribute to the conversation, but first we’ve got to start that conversation; what we’ve got right now is essentially a nation of incontinent chimps flinging shitty memes at each other, thinking “that’ll show ’em.”

I know I’ve got to keep on writing; not to convince, not to convert, or to preach, but to present what I think, and why I think this way (and yes, I was dropped on my head as a child. Several times). It’s the only way I know to try to fix things.

What can you do?

 

Pine Ridge Indian Reservation: A Largely Unknown Known

Culture, Politics, Politics & Culture, Religion, Travel

For those of you who are interested in Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, here’s a link to a paper I wrote for Napenasi.com, a blog I write for Nape Na Si, a mission organization that works on Pine Ridge:

Shaking Up the Blissful Ignorance:

I hope you’ll take the time to read it, and then more time to think about it, especially during this holiday season.

I’ll be writing more on this soon.

Enjoy, and, as always, thanks for reading!

Doctor, Doctor

All About Me, Religion

Here’s a link to my latest article for The Odyssey:

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the (good) News

It’s kind of a follow-up to last week’s That Certain Friend (also available on The Odyssey Online, and here, in last week’s moonsthoughts post, although it certainly stands on its own. I hope you enjoy it, and, as always, thanks for reading!

Free Advice on College, and Writing! Remember, You Get What You Pay For.

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To whom it may concern: Here are links to a couple new(ish) articles I’ve written for The Odyssey. The first is a little advice for those just starting school, from one about to finish, and the second is essentially a guide to happily writing unsuccessfully (something I’m really starting to get the hang of!). Anyway, enjoy, and thanks for reading!

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/dont-panic-freshmen

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/embrace-the-obscurity

Two New Articles By Your Humble(ish) Moonsthoughts Guy

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Here are a pair of articles (unrelated to each other) that I’ve written recently: One link is to an article I wrote for NapeNaSi.com, the website/blog of a mission group I’m part of, and the other is an article for theodysseyonline about zombie movies, us, and social media. I hope you’ll take the time to read them, that you enjoy them, and that they at least make you think. Cheers, and, as always, thanks for reading!

If Not Me, Then Who?

 

The Typing Dead

Dear David: An Open Letter To My Little Brother

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Dear David,

Since you recently had a birthday, and now get to stare down the barrel of the big Five-Oh for a year, I thought I’d take a moment on the occasion of my 51st birthday to pass on a few words of wisdom regarding what is arguably the most horrific of all birthdays.

First of all, it’s really not all that bad. In fact, it’s actually pretty stinkin’ good. I know, I know, that doesn’t make any sense, but it’s true. I was having a little trouble figuring it out, when I came across some research that really cleared it up, and what it comes down to is this: It’s never gonna get any better.

Apparently, we peak pretty early in life: physically in our mid-30’s, creatively in our late 30’s, mentally in our early 40’s, and wisdomly(?) in our late 40’s. I’ve seen other research that says we also hit our peak earning potential in our mid-40’s.

That means (and I’ll just speak for myself here, your mileage may vary) I’m never going to be any stronger, prettier, sexier, smarter, wiser, or more creative than I am today, and my best earning days are just a speck in the rear-view mirror.

Do you realize what this means? It means ALL THE PRESSURE’S OFF!!!!! It’s all just one long downhill slope to the end from here, little brother. We can just take our feet off the pedals, enjoy the ride, and coast all the way to the finish line!

No more worries for me about trying to become a rich and famous writer. At this point, even if I do manage to write the Great American Novel, nobody will notice until after I’m dead, and fat lot of good it’ll do me then. Of course, the readers of moonsthoughts will have the opportunity to crow about how they’ve known about the lyric magic of my prose and my rapier-like wit for years, so that’s some consolation (and, by the way, you’re all very welcome, and thanks for reading). I can just concentrate on being a good writer, and writing about stuff that matters, and stop worrying about ambitions.

I can also stop worrying about inconveniences like diet and exercise (not that I ever worried that much about them anyway). I had pretty much shelved all that nonsense a few years ago, you remember, when I lost over 40 pounds, was looking and feeling really good, and then had a heart attack! I mean seriously, at this point, what’s the point?

Yes, I know that they say that stuff can add years to your life, and that smoking and drinking take years off, but as someone once said, those are years at the other end of your life, and those are shitty years anyway. Now, I’ll grant you, proper diet and exercise probably can’t hurt, and that you, with your abnormally moderate nature, will have a longer, gentler (or less meteoric) downhill trajectory than me, but we’ll end up at the same finish line (and you know how I always loved to go fast).

Don’t get me wrong, I’m in no hurry, I’m just saying it’s time to relax a little (or a lot!). After all, who, by worrying can add one extra day to his life? I’m pretty sure I read that somewhere.

It’s time to maybe try some new things: apparently, I started school long after my mental peak, but it’s worked out pretty well. Although I’m not getting any smarter, every “A” I get represents a pretty significant triumph.

Of course I’ve always been a pretty smart guy (at least I like to think so, so don’t burst my bubble. Disappointment doesn’t get any easier to deal with), but that’s never stopped me from doing a lot of phenomenally stupid things, usually when I was trying to be smart.

No more worries about that though. Now I can relax and just accept the fact that I’m an idiot; that I don’t know shit from shinola, and I’m probably getting dumber every day. In fact statistically, I’ll never be as smart again as I am right now. On the up side, I’m waaaaaaay smarter than I will be next year, so yay me!

Nope, little brother, the big accomplishments are behind us. It’s time to start celebrating the little triumphs, like remembering where you parked, successfully hooking up a new piece of video equipment, or sneezing without shitting yourself (if you’re not there yet, trust me, you will be).

A little more free advise (and remember, you get what you pay for):

Try to spend more time naked, for a number of reasons:

First, you’re not going to ever look better naked than you do today, so enjoy it!

Second, it’s good for the environment, what with saving water on laundry and all.

Third, you’ve finally gotten your kids out of the house. Make the most of it! Think of all those times you’ve wished you were naked, but no, you had to think about the kids, so you had to put on pants just to go get something to drink.

Fourth, it keeps unwanted visitors away. There are two approaches to this: you can warn people, as I did about “No Pants” Fridays, or you can just answer the door au naturale a couple of times, and just let word-of-mouth do the rest. Dealer’s choice, really.

Enjoy yourself. Watch more westerns. Read (or, in your case, play more golf). Have more sex, if you can (no one, at least no one in a long-term, monogamous relationship, on their deathbed ever said, “I wish I’d had less sex”). That is another up side to spending more time naked. If you can get Robin to go along with it, that is. Good luck.

Worry as little as possible, about everything. To paraphrase the line from above, who by worrying can actually influence an election, keep the economy from tanking, or stop their adult children from doing stupid shit that you’ve already warned them about numerous times?

Really, life is a lot like playing football for Northeastern* back in our day. We’re going to lose. We’re probably going to get the living shit beaten out of us while we lose. It’s not going to be pretty. It’s going to be ugly, and embarrassing, and we’ll never live it down, but we might as well play as hard as we can anyway, and try to enjoy it as much as possible. At least we’ll get some good stories out of it.

 

Well, I guess that’s about it, little brother. I hope as your next birthday looms ever larger, with its twin barrels of Age and Infirmity looking more like railroad tunnels every day, you’ll be able to remember, er, look this letter up again, to remind yourself that it’s only going to get worse, so enjoy today! At least you’ll always be younger than me.

Cheers!

Your Big Brother Lloyd.

 

*For those of you unfamiliar with the glory days of our high school football careers, the Northeastern Wayne High School football team set the state record for most consecutive games lost. We lost one game 83-0. An average game we’d lose 49-0. I was the team captain my senior year, the third straight season without a single win.

 

 

On Lost Friends and Heroes – Part Three

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Hey all, I’m posting a link to my latest article in the Odyssey. It’s the third (and final) part of my “On Lost Friends and Heroes” series. I hope you’ll take the time to check it out. If you like it, or it makes you think, please think about sharing it. As always, thanks for reading!

Here’s the link: On Lost Friends and Heroes Part Three