It's weird. I've started referring to my online persona in the third person: as in "The Kraut thinks" or "The Kraut will talk about that..." when stating what I'm going to write about to my girls (my wife, daughter and puppy: yes, I talk to my dog about weblogs.)
But it's amazing to think about how you can compartmentalize some of your thinking processes into a seperate entity. In the dream I detailed here I really did introduce myself as Raging Kraut and not by my real first name.
So that leaves me with three distinct personalities-
Ray- the guy in the real world
Raging Kraut - the wannabe witty guy writing this blog
and Helmut - the insane German chef that inhabits the kitchen and harasses passers-by with profanities and silly accents.
Of course many of my friends would say that I already had several personality disorders from long long ago...
In the dream I am getting on an elevator at the top of the world. As The WHO would say, "I can see for Miles and Miles" but in this case it's thousands and thousands of miles...
The earth hangs below me filling the lower half of existence. I am viewing the night side of the globe with all the cities lit up, burning the night with their yellow glow...I can make out Paris, London, Berlin. On the edge of the globe I can see the East Coast of North America, where the sun would be going down, bathed in the golden glow of the end of the day...
I think to myself that I must be dreaming, because how could I breathe? Wouldn't I be frozen by now? What about weightlessness? The rational part of my mind shuts off and then forgets that I'm dreaming...I'm fully in it now after that brief glimpse of reality.
The doors close and I look at the panel: Floor 27,652.
Oh by the way, did I mention the elevator is transparent? I stare at the floor and realize to my shock and horror that the floor is transparent and the elevator shaft (also transparent, to a degree) appears to end in the ocean just east of the African Continent.
The doors close. I stare around trying not to look at my fellow passengers, but can't help but notice that one of them has a dog's head and is reading Tolstoy's War and Peace. Apart from the dog's head, he would've been an ordinary looking guy in a business suit...
The dog man stares at me and offers me a human hand...
"Anubis, at your service" it says in a clipped upper-class Brit accent. "Always better to introduce yourself at the beginning of a descent. Makes it a more comfortable 27 hours."
"27 hours??" I exclaim. And then I remember my manners. "Raging Kraut, at your service. We're in here for 27 hours?"
"Long way to the ground, my boy, long way. Otherwise the acceleration would kill you quicker than I will." He's staring at a spot on my neck and licking his lips before he buries himself in his book.
The doors close behind me and the elevator starts moving silently downward.
I silently contemplate being trapped in an elevator for 27 hours with an Egyptian God of the Underworld.
Several minutes pass.
"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Anubis?" I ask tentatively.
"Yes, dear boy?"
"Um, that bit about killing me, could you maybe elaborate?"
"Certainly, dear chap. You see, I need to feed, and you are food."
"Wouldn't you rather have a pizza?"
"No. I have this nice chianti and some fava beans." To my horror he's pointing at a table in the corner that's set for a formal dinner for one. At seeing my shock he laughs: "Sorry, but that's my favourite line from the movie."
"Pizza would go well with the chianti..."
"No, I'd rather eat your liver. It's been soaking in whiskey for quite some time now..."
He smiles and I can see that this dog has blood in its teeth.
Just then there's a large CRACK! from above and it's one of those comic Warner Bros. moments when Anubis and I hang motionless while the cables that until now had been supporting us fall towards the earth and catch fire as they burn throught the atmosphere...
The panel reads floor 23,592.
Anubis smiles at me. "That's what I get for choosing the lowest bid. I knew it was too good to be true..."
The elevator plummets to the ground. My stomach is now in my forehead as the acceleration grows stronger and stronger...
The panel reads floor 17,733.
"You know..." I scream at Anubis. "...that one about the guy that was trapped in the falling elevator...and at the last moment before he hits...he jumps with all his strength?"
"Yes, I've heard that one." He appears to be going back to his book.
The panel reads floor 8,042.
"Do you think he would die?"
The panel reads floor 4,932
"Oh yes, instantly." He tosses the book away. "Just as well. Long, boring, depressing book. I don't know why I didn't just buy the Coles Notes version."
The panel reads floor 1,342.
"I'm trying it!" I scream as I crouch down to leap.
"Good luck, old boy. If you make it we can eat his liver instead." He points to a man cowering in the corner. It's Ben Affleck.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I scream.
"Running away from my wife. Took the wrong elevator." he cried. "I don't care if you eat my liver! It's better than where I was. You don't know what she's like!"
Floor 321.
Floor 122.
Floor 53.
I leap up with all my strength...
...and of course this is where I wake up... « less
You are a Dragon! You love to eat lambs, cattle, and most of all you have a taste for Humans. You don't like any color in particular, and you are very solitary, choosing to live inside mountains and atop cliffs. You love to fly, and to breathe flame. Spells are another talent of yours. Dragons are immortal and cannot die unless they are slain. You are quite the magician, since spells simply bounce off your protective armor. You also hate anything you cant eat.
Waiting around for a baby to show up can be nerve-racking...
There are only so many chores around the house you can do before you start to lose concentration. I can't even find stuff in the news to get angry about these days because my whole focus is on when this little procrastinator will finally crawl out of my wife...
I'm getting the urge to do yardwork. YARDWORK! What sort of insanity is this?
Today I suffered the worst allergy headache I've had this year. My head felt like it was three times the width of the door. Not even the pot of coffee I drank this morning (yes, I'm back on the stuff) could relieve the pressure behind my eyes. I don't even know what I'm allergic to, but from April to June of every year I'm beset with coughing, dry eyes and blinding headaches...
I drifted in and out of coherence at work; luckily my cubicle is buried deep in the administration department, where trolls be found...I wasn't bothered all day in my sensory deprivation chamber.
Princess Boo-Boo, our 19 month-old first-born and thus victim of our experimental parenting techniques has taken to singing at the highest volume possible. I felt my corneas beginning to shatter as she reached an impossibly high pitch and volume as I changed her. Soon she will start toilet-training and then this diaper thing will be history...
So my wife and I are having a conversation over dinner:
Kraut's wife: blah blah big, blah blah baby, blah blah cramps nausea get it out of me!!!
Kraut: blah blah fuckin' job, blah blah BORING
PRINCESS BOO-BOO:
SHUTTUP!!
Silence.
Princess Boo-Boo goes back to disassembling the piece of pound cake she has been smearing all over her body as "food camouflage." The royal dog appreciates this...
Kraut and Kraut's wife look at each other.
Kraut: Did you teach her that?
Kraut's Wife: No. Did you?
Kraut: No. And so begins the terrible twos, five months early...
And eighteen months later we get to go through it again with the second one, if he or she ever decides to show up. It's going to be the greatest thing ever all over again...
-- Well at least one of my entries has to be sappy/happy
Considering no one really reads this blog I thought I'd purloin the comments from the Toronto Star on the DNA collection process that the Toronto Police Department is conducting. I find it disturbing that so many people are willing to throw away their rights and freedoms just so they think they can be a little "safer".
As usual (compare the Bernardo case), the police have no ideas except the wrong ones. By forcing people to give DNA samples, they make those who resist appear to incriminate themselves, while any real criminal would be long gone from the area in question.
[Name Removed], Toronto, May 22
I agree with this guy. The Toronto Police have no clue who the real killer(s) is/are so they're appealing to this so-called "process" in the hopes that a blind shot might pull their asses out of the fire.
They are desperate. They have been desperate every since that "one phone call away" speech about how close they were to breaking the case. By definition "any" case, no matter how cold the trail, could be broken open with the right phone call being made. To hint that an arrest was close was a misjudgement that will haunt them politically later.
The most innocent and vulnerable members of our society must be protected. This common good must override the individual rights issue raised by the mass DNA screening, provided the data collected is subsequently destroyed.
[Name Removed], Thornhill, May 22
The common good does not flow from everyone being pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered. DNA screening will not find the monster that did this unless he is stupid enough to actually volunteer for the screening. And national databases are hungry for information...A good database is like gold. You don't throw away gold. Besides, it might help them in "other" unsolved investigations in the area.
If this will help in the finding of the monster who did this to Holly, then guys, suck it up. What's the big deal?
[Name Removed], Victoria Harbour, May 22
Sure, Melanie. It's because us guys are all "wimps" that we don't want our personal details fed into some giant database that may be used against us at some future time. I object to an intrusion of the state into my personal details because ooooooooooh! I'm not "macho" enough.
I think DNA samples should be taken from all people entering this country who wish to stay. Also, when a child is born, they fingerprint and footprint them, they should also take DNA prints too. The rest of us, well the next time you have your yearly check-up, provide a sample for DNA recording.
[Name Removed], Tottenham, May 22
...and of course, if genetic undesireables try to enter the country we can have them sterilized or trucked off in vans and trains to be "relocated east." Seig heil you nazi freak!
Why not take DNA samples from the entire national population? Let me guess, innocent males have nothing to fear. A police force that was supposedly only a "phone call away" from catching this killer now seems to be scrambling. Doesn't leave one with much confidence.
[Name Removed], Toronto, May 22
They were scrambling from the start. The police can only do so much and always after the fact. If the tracks have been covered it will be difficult to do much of anything now unless some luck comes the cops way. Victims' families don't like hearing the word "luck" being used when it comes to catching the twisted fucks that do these things.
I would be first in line. If it would cast suspicion away from me as a male living in the area and if it would help narrow down the search and/or flush out suspicious people, I'd gladly do my part.
[Name Removed], Mississauga, May 22
You sound guilty.
Maybe the state should check your financial records.
And your health records.
And your sexual history.
Put you under surveillance.
Lean on your friends and employers to "come clean" about you...
Or else we'll check their financial records.
And their health records...
We should all want to give our DNA. Every person. It would sure make people think twice before committing a crime.
[Name Removed], Toronto, May 22
Sure I want to give out my DNA...It's called sex and it's very enjoyable. Giving the police access to my DNA when they HAVE NO OTHER EVIDENCE. No thank you.
I personally don't understand why someone would not provide their DNA especially in a case as devastating as this one.
[Name Removed], Concord, May 22
There is such a thing as right to privacy. It's not something that should be thrown away with such a cavalier disregard. If the police said that the suspect was a white guy of heavy build in his thirties with red hair who lived in my neighbourhood, then I'd say they had a reason to suspect me and that DNA testing should be mandatory (yes: I said mandatory. I have no bleeding heart if probable cause has been demonstrated.)
But if they said "oh we suspect half the fucking population of the neighbourhood. Let's DNA test them all to see what happens..." I'd have two words for the cops at my door: "Good" and "Bye"
Those who refuse to give DNA samples are only running away from the truth and should be considered a suspect.
[Name Removed], Maple, May 22
You'd be an asset to any police state/fascist dictatorship you'd like to relocate to. I'm sure you could clean up informing on your neighbours.
All I have to say to the people who are refusing to give DNA sample is if it were your mother, daughter, niece, sister, friend, you would want the public to assist in any way possible.
[Name Removed], Etobicoke, May 22
That's a nice appeal to emotion, but it doesn't make logical sense. This exercise is not about doing your civic duty to help catch a heinous killer. We are all morally-bound to help the police in whatever way we can within the bounds of the law. That means being a witness, or helping with evidence when we find it, or reporting suspicious people when we see them.
It does not mean sacrificing our rights to the creation of a database that will not help in this case. It's really easy to trample on individual rights when confronted by the horror of this crime.
Those who sacrifice freedom for safety deserves neither.
-- Thomas Jefferson (unconfirmed)
It's disturbing how many of us are eager to make that questionable trade.
Today is the day that my second child is expected to enter the world...
It's amazing that my first child (Princess Boo-Boo is her full nick-name, thank you very much. Mustn't forget her royal title!) is now almost nineteen months old. And she's out to prove that her head is as hard as mine by headbutting me at every opportunity and then laughing insanely when she manages to do damage to my nose, mouth, eye etc. The apple really DOESN'T fall far from the tree...
It's funny when I compare my edginess-level with the first birth experience. To actually see a little person pulled out of my wife (Oh My God! There actually was a BABY in there!) for the first time was an incredible thing to witness, as well as to do the debrief about the experience afterward.
There are plenty of internet resources to explain it better than me, but let me just say that medicalized child-birth is treated by the hospital system as if it were an illness: the patient is immobilized and hooked up to machines and IV tubes and monitored by the nurse at a remote station. Whatever birthplan that you and your lovely wife decided on during the initial consultation gets thrown out the window, especially if you show up at 3 AM and the night-duty nurse is annoyed that she actually has to do something...(before any RN's flame me over this, my wife is an RN and knows how to scope a ward she's on, as nurse or patient...)
MR. PYCROFT: Oh, very impressive. Very impressive. And what are you doing this morning? [music stops]
OBSTETRICIAN: It's a birth.
MR. PYCROFT: Aahh. What sort of thing is that?
DOCTOR SPENSER: Well, that's when we take a new baby out of a lady's tummy.
MR. PYCROFT: Wonderful what we can do nowadays. [ping] Aah! I see you have the machine that goes 'ping'. This is my favourite. You see, we lease this back from the company we sold it to, and that way, it comes under the monthly current budget and not the capital account.
[applause]
Thank you. Thank you. We try to do our best. Well, do carry on.
NURSE #1: Ooh, the vulva's dilating, doctor.
OBSTETRICIAN: Oh, yes, there's the head. Yes, four centimetres. Five-- Six centimetres.
OBSTETRICIAN: Show it to the mother. That's enough.
DOCTOR SPENSER: Right! Sedate her!
OBSTETRICIAN: Number the child.
DOCTOR SPENSER: Measure it, blood type it, and isolate it! [whump]
NURSE #1: Okay. [clap clap] Show's over.
OBSTETRICIAN: Jolly good.
RANDOM: [mumbling] ...everyone.
OBSTETRICIAN: Jolly good.
MRS. MOORE: Is it a boy or a girl?
OBSTETRICIAN: Now, I think it's a little early to start imposing roles on it, don't you? Now, a word of advice. You may find that you suffer for some time a totally irrational feeling of depression: 'P.N.D.', as we doctors call it. So, it's lots of happy pills for you, and you can find out all about the birth when you get home. It's available on Betamax, VHS, and Super Eight.
OK, so it wasn't that bad...
However, this time we're going through midwives and we're having the birth at home. Nothing takes the edge off of labour better than a DVD Godfather marathon, or so my wife hopes...
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It's sad and tragic what happened to little Holly Jones, but I find myself a little uneasy about a "general DNA sampling."
Police are canvassing the neighbourhood where Holly Jones vanished last week, asking all male residents and workers over the age of 16 to volunteer a DNA sample.
So if I'm male, and I live in the area, and I'm over 16 I'm a suspect?
'We cannot leave anything to chance. We have to do every piece of police work that's necessary.'
-- Sergeant Jim Muscat
In other words, they have no leads and are resorting to creating a database of DNA samples without narrowing the focus of who they suspect of committing the crime. Do they have evidence that the killer lived in the area? There are about 8 million people in the Greater Toronto Area that are highly mobile. Anybody with a car can get there easily. Why 16? Why not over 21? Or over 10? Let's remember the little freaks who killed Jamie Bolger in England...
"There's only been a handful of people that have refused. This is all voluntary," Muscat told reporters outside the police command post set up at Church of the First Born.
...voluntary with the prejudice of the following...
"If people are willing to voluntarily give their DNA, then we will take a sample," he said. "If they refuse, then we will document that." [emphasis mine]
...and the neighbours will be eyeing you funny until they catch (hopefully kill) the vermin that killed poor Holly Jones.
Don't get me wrong: I'm no bleeding heart when it comes to the so-called "rights" of pedophiles and sex offenders. They should have no choice when DNA samples are demanded of them. And I've also been fingerprinted twice as a condition of employment. But that's because I was in a specific situation that required I be identifiable.
In this case the general public (males over 16 is pretty damn general in my opinion) in a specific geographic area will be documented if they don't submit DNA samples?
WTF?!
What happens to this DNA database when the killer is found? Is it destroyed? Or is it used to go on a fishing expedition through other unsolved crimes? Could someone be prosecuted on a totally unrelated charge (say breaking and entering) and the DNA sample supplied for the Jones investigation trotted out by the prosecutor as "exhibit A?"
Or what happens if the killer is NEVER found? Will this database ALWAYS be there? And what of the men who don't submit? What if they face investigation for something later:
Good Cop (generic NYPD Blue pretty-boy): Listen, be reasonable. We just want to know the truth...
Bad Cop (Sipowicz): You little fuck! We know you're up to no good. What about the time you didn't give a DNA sample for the Jones case? Only someone guilty would refuse to give evidence!
If I lived in the area and refused to give the sample out of principal, what kind of grief am I buying myself in the long run? How long would my neighbours stare at me with suspicion?
The judgement of a society is to observe how that society deals with an unthinkable test: this unthinkable crime is surely testing our society...
You know, it'd make it real easy for the cops to do their job if every baby born now was DNA-sampled at birth, and then their details fed into a giant database. That way, within a generation the police wouldn't have to deal with those silly things like "probable cause" or "individual rights."
Of course many will read that last paragraph without the sarcasm that it was written with. And that's where we get tempted to throw away the individual rights fought for with the blood of centuries so that we can sleep a little safer in our beds...
[Rue] on 01/24/07 11:09 : With bated breath I await your return to blogging. [go]
[Rue] on 01/24/07 11:09 : With bated breath I await your return to blogging. [go]
[Rue] on 01/24/07 11:09 : With bated breath I await your return to blogging. [go]
[Rue] on 01/24/07 11:09 : With bated breath I await your return to blogging. [go]
[Rue] on 01/24/07 11:09 : With bated breath I await your return to blogging. [go]
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