The meaning of life?

Being an extrovert, I like to do my thinking out loud, in conversation with other like-minded individuals. Not having regular access to such individuals can be pretty crippling. That's what you get when you move to Hermitville. So when I have to ponder questions like the meaning of life, I have to find alternatives. This blog should do nicely...

(I should point out that I have been lost from this blog for a year now. I don't know how long this return will last, but I have some catching up to do. May as well start with a 'big' one.)


Those who are a bit closer to me, know that I have been wrestling with some pretty large philosophical and socio-economic issues of late - a 'paper' or series of essays for my own amusement on money and value systems. So I've had some lofty thoughts running around in my head.

Last week, a former colleague (now getting into the motivational coaching market) posed his new trademark question to me: "What do you think your purpose is?" I suppose the timing of the question is everything. I wondered if I could come up with an answer. I stalled by asking him his. Of course, being in the business, he had a nicely prepared and rehearsed response, involving helping others to discover their true purpose, etc. Not helpful. Taking over his laptop, I called up my web site, hoping that my mission or vision statements would help. They held him off for a while, but I was still not convinced that his question had been answered. The seed, however had definitely been planted.

What began to emerge was a more empirical, objective answer than I expected. After all, it would be easy to make up some answer that suited my personal perspective, but being only one of a few billion people, surely there must be some common thread to connect all of those purposes together.

Those of you who recall my earliest posts to this blog a year and a half ago, might also recall that I am a beekeeper (among many other things). So it was natural to simplify the question first by turning to my small winged workers: What is the purpose of a bee? Hmmm...

The purpose of a bee can have a few perspectives in the natural world. I think the easiest answer is a continuation of the species. Bees exist so that more bees can exist. It is certainly undeniable that survival and propagation are at the very core of every living being's programming. Bees have the advantage of having their daily purpose conveniently programmed for them as well. Every stage of a bee's short 1 or 2 month lifespan comes with specific duties programmed in, and their role in the hive changes every few weeks.

On a larger scale, you might say that bees exist to pollinate flowers, make honey, and participate in the overall balance of the ecosystem in which they live, but I don't think that is part of their capital-P Purpose. Being a part of the balance in the natural world is a consequence of being in it - we all impact that to some extent.

If you believe in an omniscient being (God) who created everything you see around you, then you might argue that bees were created as part of the wonder and magnificence of our world. That might be a fine 'purpose' too, but it is not something that the colony or individuals can focus on, so I don't find it a useful answer.

However, if one were to follow the evolution of bees (or any other life form for that matter), you can see that the species does not so much 'continue' as 'evolve', adapting to new conditions (if possible) and (presumably) improving as it goes. I like to think that the purpose of a bee then, is:

to continue the existence of the species and to contribute to the improvement of the species where possible, by: surviving (if appropriate from an evolutionary sense), facilitating the propagation and survival of other members of the species, and living to the best of its abilities so that natural selection will favour any subtle 'mutations' (or unique characterisitics) inherent in that individual that contribute to overall species enhancement.

Once I had that, I began to wonder if the same thing could be applied to humans. After all, on the great scale of things (such as the existence of humanity), if I'm looking for a one-size-fits-all base-line purpose to suit every individual human, then I'm looking for something simple and comprehensive. This seemed to be a good place to start.

Of course, humans are always the exception, aren't they. Many would be offended to think of a human's purpose in life as being comparable to that of a simple honeybee. To a certain extent, I agree. I don't think it too conceited to suggest that Homo sapiens is truly unique among nature's creations so far. Our abilities, knowledge, conscience, cultures, arts, achievements, etc. are truly wonders. We don't know for certain that our advanced evolution is unique in the universe, but it certainly seems to be rare.

If you next accept the proposition that nature is constantly striving to improve itself, inherently (so to speak) favouring the next best thing and weeding out the bad experiments, then perhaps we hold a certain obligation not to mess with that. Certainly when unique individuals in history have lived to their full potential, humanity has often been the better and moved forward because of it. There are also examples of individuals who might have set us back. I like to think that those ones might not have been adhering to the purpose I proposed.

If nothing else, it has given me (and now you) something to think about. It has also given me an interesting Purpose that just might help guide me through 'stuff'.

What do you think?

Techne-City II

Students were debating. Whether our over-extending, self-powered, not remotely controlled yet increasingly networked tools might someday start sending us medium-independent messages. Start blinking their lights like they’re looking right back at us. Not whether they’ll get out of hand, declare independence, take us in whatever passes for their hands and stomp us out. That particular debate never stops. Just whether, someday, our tools might have feelings. Desires. Goals.

Heated up fast, the debating. “Of course,” insisted half the students. While the other half remained completely adamant: “No way.”

“How would we even know?” I asked them. “Do animals have feelings? Do other people?”

“No, animals don’t really have feelings,” insisted some students. "Not real feelings." At which point the debating got out of control.

“Hold on,” I said. “Let me tell you a story.” And they let me.

I started out like any other kid. Torturing bugs, frogs and pretty much anything that moved. Anything that didn’t move too fast for me to cripple. Because the way things moved when missing wings, legs or whatever assorted body parts was such great fun.

“Hey, I used to do that,” said a student.

“Me too,” said another and enthused a third, fourth and fifth.

Most of them were nodding affirmative. Almost all the males and half the females.

“I still do that!” exclaimed one last.

“What?” chorused a bunch of students and I, pretty much in unison –- “What do you mean?”

“Yeah,” he said. All smug. Proud. Eyes gleaming with excitement. “My friends and I went blowing up frogs last summer.” Then his voice turned very matter-of-fact. “We’re getting hunting rifles next year.”

Silence. Except for me banging my head against the blackboard a few times. To get the images out of my mind. The images and the memories.

“Guess I’ll get back to the story,” I said. Totally ignoring the hunter in our midst and what I felt like doing to him.

My grandfather, who had pilgrimed to the Soviet Union in order to help build communism, who had wound up fettered in a Soviet chain gang and had managed escaping and surviving his cross-countries wartime return, used to kill everything I maimed. Annoyed the hell out of my three-year-old self. Wrecking my fun like that. Tromping his feet on my miniature disability parades.

One bright morning I snuck up to and cornered a sleeping cat. Guess I was maybe five by then -– no rifle yet, but moving up to bigger game anyhow. And it was really great. Best fun ever. Made terrific hissing sounds. I had this two-fisted grip on its tail and was thinking hard how to tie some tin cans to it. A friend had said how tying tin cans to tails caused cats to flee till they died of exhaustion. Anyway. One moment it was just incredible fun and games. Next, that cat turned and laid my arm open from elbow to wrist.

I ran for my grandfather. Squealing like a slashed human. Screaming all the way what the cat had done to me.

When more or less done bandaging, my grandfather asked what set the cat off.

“Cat’s crazy,” I said. “What if it goes after some little kid? We got’ta find that cat and kill it.”

“No,” replied my grandfather. “What were you doing when the cat turned on you?”

“What was I doing? What do you think I was doing? I was playing with it.”

“Ahhh,” exhaled my grandfather. “Of course you were. Well, the cat was playing with you too.”

I fell silent. Previously, I’d screamed and shouted. Now, I began to cry. “You mean.. the way I felt when it hurt me is how they feel when I play with them?”

“That’s right,” replied my grandfather. And gentle as his voice was, his face was far wearier than I’d ever perceived. Decades later I’d begin understanding why. But not then; for at that moment my world just only began tilting. That moment I understood how hurting wasn’t right when done unto others -– and wrong only when done unto self. When I understood how always wrong it was instigating hurting. When I first understood, beyond any shadow of doubting, what it meant to be a person. The day one cat taught one human to be a person too.

“Nice story -– but what does it mean?” asked a student. Puzzled.

All of them seemed puzzled. So I told them what I thought the story meant. That even should someday our tools have thoughts and feelings, we’d not likely recognize the fact. Due to how readily fooled we are into believing ought which mimics us to be intelligent. How persistently we avoid recognizing any intelligence not entirely oriented and prejudiced as our own. How insulated and engulfed by our own technecity we’ve become. How, since bursting our food chains, we’ve accelerated gnawing the trees of living unto death. How our separation from the natural and our terminally self-involved convenience means such oblivion as to entail utter ecological obliteration.

We speak so highly of self-awareness. Not so when it comes to awareness other than of our own selves. Takes our greatest sages even to suggest we ought not do unto others as we wouldn’t have them do unto us. Never mind understanding the meaning of what others do. Never mind awareness other than of self. That’s asking too much. There’s no telling when, or even if any one of us should become so aware as to appreciate thoughts and feelings other than our own –- i.e., the thoughts we can’t help thinking and the feelings we can’t help feeling.

“I’ve been lucky enough to get taught something very basic about being a person. That cat taught me good. Not everyone’s so lucky,” I said.

Students had seemed to appreciate the action in my story. The meaning I attributed to the story, though -– not so much. Why should they -- having been so bombarded by messages of impending ecological catastrophe? Trouble with the most fatally inconvenient truths is how ubiquitously cheap they get spouted nowadays.

“But what can we do about it?” asked one student.

“Can’t say I know,” I replied. “Maybe we’ll explore that some more -– though it’s rather peripheral to what we’re supposed to be talking about.”

Anyway. It’s true. I’ve got no clue what we can do about it. Probably no one does. Not really. And not only I must feel, nowadays, much as my grandfather used to when mercy-killing the creatures I maimed. But some things have become far too obvious not to know. Ecological catastrophe extends far beyond our failing to recognize being other than our own. Yet, however persistently re-enforced, our separation from the natural is largely by oblivion. However unstoppable, it begins with submergence of our natural selves in cultures of technecity.

We can’t expect rescue from our governments. Not by regulation, legislation or completely inadequate accords like Kyoto. Our governments can reflect only us -– our terminally convenient self-involvements -- and we can get nothing better from governance than we deserve. Nor can we expect corporate bailouts. Corporations can do nothing but serve our consumptions. Nothing but supply our endlessly accelerating demanding. Any hope whatsoever of finding David Brin’s fourth way must emerge, if at all, from grass-roots.

Most likely it’s far too hopelessly late. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, of course. We should. We must. It’s likely too late only due to overwhelming odds against us even trying. For if we maintain our oblivion when it comes to the natural, the sole ecological recourse shall remain only as seen at Chernobyl.

Even just honestly trying isn’t easy. We’re too psychologically, socially, economically and infrastructurally against it. Never mind what a derelict I must seem when I try negotiating with the natural. Over the years, I’ve mostly gotten over my utter social failure relative to single-minded consumers. I can't seem to keep up with them Joneses. I can't even seem to want to anymore. But I know there’s all sorts of surveillance up at York University. I expect to get in trouble when I go digging the garbage for food. Must honestly try, though –- even if only for the principle that humans can be people too.

Few years back, I began noticing what misery it was for small birds surviving winter. There are somewhat green spaces at York University -– spaces not yet entirely trammeled. Such spaces can’t be, by any decent stretching imagination, proper or adequate habitat. Yet, birds persist attempting to survive winters there. Come harshest times, birds start flying into the concrete and glass tunnels connecting Vari Hall to York Lanes. Do they survive in there? Do they ever get out again? No clue. But I became sufficiently concerned to throw them crumbs. And their desperate enthusiasm diving between human legs to get at crumbs -– that’s what got me going.

That’s also what got me noticing all the garbage. The unbelievable waste.


There is no waste in nature.


Seagulls love pizza crust.

Where does all that garbage wind up? What’s the additional waste and cost getting it there? What’s the point razing natural habitat –- then refusing even refuse to bereaved and beggared animal kinds attempting surviving, just peripherally, about our technecity?

So simple. Just transferring some waste to where it isn’t wasted. To whom it’s totally and vitally appreciated. That’s how each overflowing bin became, for me, a potential transfer station.

Couple days every week, for about an hour, I travel bin to bin, station to station across York campus. And I totally leave campus cleaner than I find it. Inedible waste gets deposited. Edibles get shared. Not so much with squirrels, though -– they have no trouble chewing through styrofoam and rummaging garbage bins. I make sure to whistle advance warning on arrival -– otherwise, if surprised, squirrels are liable to leaping like crazed lizards.


Apple core? I’ll trick you good if you don’t treat me better!

Mostly, found edibles get shared with birds. Smaller, crumbling items for smaller birds. Anything from French-fries up goes to seagulls and geese. Often, when seagulls see how I find food in bins, they go looking for themselves. But they can’t get through the styrofoam.


C'mon Man! Stop teasing!

I’ve become fairly comfortable rummaging the garbage at York. Some know why I do it. Most don’t -– but so what? My shame at being such a loser at human modes of consumption and destruction is completely outweighed by even just trying to become more natural a person. Why even try? Impossible to accomplish anything while living in the city? Maybe not. Maybe more students up at York will begin feeding the animals. Maybe more humans can start becoming people too. There’s no hope otherwise.

Support our Troops: Give ‘em Jack

This article was so not going to be about Jack Layton. Sure, Jack Layton was going to get mentioned fairly often. But this absolutely was not going to be about him. This was going to be about how the Globe and Mail turns its back on genuine democracy. No choice now, though. Not any more. Not after how I didn’t shake Jack Layton’s hand last Friday.

Couldn’t shake Jack Layton’s hand. Not on Friday, October 19th. Maybe no other day of the week -– or year –- either. Not after what I’d written about him.

Except it wasn’t really me writing those terrible things. Not exactly.

Wasn’t exactly me. Been decades since I began exploring (not only) media, democracy and public spheres. Since last year, under the alias of “Lie Detector”, I embedded myself under deep cover to specifically investigate Globe and Mail reader forums. To find out what consent and dissent got manufactured there. Whether Globe forums inflated or deflated public spheres. And it was at those wild and riotous Globe forums that, as Lie Detector, I found myself self-expressing as I never otherwise would. Guess virtual anonymity is like that. Makes us write and do things we never otherwise would. Point being that it wasn’t really me wrote them terrible things about Jack. It was Lie Detector.

So what was I to do? It was Friday, about half past noon, and there I was holding office hours in Vari Hall. No warning whatsoever. One moment everything was routine. The next, it was as if some great spotlight penetrated an invisible fog to reveal Jack Layton not twenty feet away. Jack Layton aglitter with surrounding media apparatus.

Curious what occasion brought Jack to York University, some students and I slunk behind the media bobbing in his wake. And, just slightly external and aside the glass Vari Hall front door, I somewhat made it out. Not tuition fees. Not the subway extension. None of the above. Went something like this: “… Afghanistan.. must understand that.. Afghanistan… Therefore.. Afghanistan.”

“What’s he talking about?” inquired one student.

“Not the subway extension. Not tuition fees,” I replied. “Afghanistan.”

“Oh,” said the student. Rolling his eyes.

“I’m from Afghanistan,” said another student.

“Really? Maybe you should ask him something,” I encouraged.

“Like what?” She made the notion sound extremely marginal. Very dubious.

“Anything. I just wish I’d brought my camera,” I complained.

“I’ve got my camera,” she showed me. “But I’m not taking any picture of him.”

Just about then Jack came up to the clump of us. Yet another student brandished a camera, requesting Jack pose a moment.

“Sure,” grinned Jack. “But make it snappy.”

Had to laugh. Thought Jack was both witty and charming. Pretty darned photogenic, too. Nevermind how great it would have been to have Jack pictured by me for this article. If only I’d brought my camera.

Stepped right back when Jack started pumping the manual flesh, though. Nothing against manual pumping, but no way could I shake his hand. Not in good conscience. Not after what Lie Detector had written about him. All those terrible things.

What got Lie Detector bleeping off the scale? Can’t be certain. Not entirely -– since the Lie Detector persona is not really me. More like some very strange and alter ego Hyde-ing beneath the floorboards of my mind. But I strongly suspect it was those two headliners the Globe ran consecutively September 29th and September 30th. Afghan president seeks peace with Taliban after suicide bomb and Taliban peace deal possible, says Karzai. About how Afghanistan’s Karzai was hoping to negotiate with the Taliban.

That’s what I suspect. That it was those two headliners -– and the tone of comments following. Comments such as this one from 'Jack Robertson':

Given that Karzai has offered the Taliban a place in Afghanistan's government, it now appears that Canada's soldiers really have been dying in vain. This is not surprising however. If Canada and other NATO countries ever believed that they could introduce 'democracy' to Afghanistan, they were truly delusional. There is not one predominantly Muslim country in the world in which liberal democracy has succeeded or where it can succeed. With apologies to Stalin for the paraphrasing, 'Western liberal democracy fits the Islamic world like a saddle fits a cow'. This 'mission', if there ever was one, was lost from the beginning. We should hope that Ottawa does not add insult to the injury of needlessly sacrificed Canadian lives by welcoming Karzai and his cronies as 'refugees' once the Taliban have regained control.

Or 'Richard Roskell's':

What cognitively-functional Canadian ever remotely imagined that it would turn out differently? The only thing in doubt was how many Canadian lives would be lost along the way.

'No use for a name from Toronto:

“Taliban' Karzai?...Isn't that what the braying morons called Jack Layton for even daring to suggest negotiations with the Taliban?”

Frank Stogre from Vancouver:

Taliban Jack was right and the right wingers are wrong again an again an again ...

Carl Hansen from Canada:

So now we can surrender and go home?

Opinion in Toronto from Toronto:

So, Canada lost the war and the Taliban win...

Denis Love from Victoria:

I seem to recall Jack Layton saying folks should be talking to the taliban. Some folks, especially here made fun of him by calling him Taliban Jack. Now it seems the folks who run the country have the same idea as Layton…

Comments like Stevo the Orange’s from Winnipeg:

Is Jack Layton going to say 'I told you so'? It seems there is only one federal leader with any brains when it comes to making peace. The liberals have already completely failed a the conservatives are failing as we speak. Give the NDP a chance and I guarentee you through diplomacy and rational thought we can find peace. Guns and bullets will never create Peace. Brains will. Vote NDP.

And, of course, like the incomparable Yvonne Wackernagel’s from Woodville:

AFGHANISTAN is NOT the only country where women are uneducated, so WHY ARE WE THERE WHEN THE PRESIDENT AND THE PEOPLE WHO BELONG TO THE COUNTRY -THE TALIBAN- WANT US OUT! Did you not see it on TV -By a secret journalist -THE PEOPLE WERE SHOUTING 'DEATH TO CANADA'. TELL ME AGAIN, W H Y A R E WE T H E R E?

That’s when I noticed hair sprouting from my palms. When Lie Detector started banging my keyboard:

When Taliban Jack kept demanding we talk to the Taliban and stop our military spending -- i.e., just surrender already -- the lefties were all like, 'Yay!' But now, when Karzai demands keeping NATO troops in Afghanistan while talking to Taliban -- i.e., don't just surrender but do negotiate already -- the lefties are all like, 'Oh my gawd, that NeoCon traitor!' Is it hypocrisy? Nope. Not sufficiently coherent for hypocrisy. When NATO shoots back at Taliban and hits innocent civilians, lefties are all like, 'The Canadian military is murdering innocents!' Doesn't matter how not intentional NATO killing innocent civilians was. Doesn't matter what efforts Canadian troops go to, what extra hazard to own life and limb Canadian soldiers take on, how much farther into harms way they go to avoid killing innocent civilians. Doesn't matter to lefties. Far as lefties are concerned, it's murder. But when Taliban, as usual, fully intentionally kill innocent civilians -- not a peep. Nevermind how killing innocents intentionally is what 'murder' means. Nevermind. If Taliban did it then that's fine. Not a problem. Cheerleading terror like that? While our troops are engaged trying to halt -- at least slow it? By appeal from Afghanistan's first ever elected government? Used to be called treason. Most places, it still is. But not so, far as lefties are concerned. No way. What it is, lefties say, is supporting our troops. Get it? Support our troops -- disband the Canadian military. Or, at least undermine the Canadian military. Make sure our gals and guys over there fail too bad ever to try anything military again. Is this sufficiently coherent to qualify as hypocrisy? What lefties mean when they say 'support our troops'? Pretty much. Coherent enough to qualify as treason, even.

Some posters did not appreciate Lie Detector’s contribution, of course. Peter Bell, for instance:

Excellent meisterspinning from Lie Detector at 10.32 am. Now, where does this come from. All government offices are closed on weekends. Not the GOP headquarters or the Manning School. They are open 24-7 and working overtime about the Karzai story. Which of the two among others supplied this meisterspinning. Was is GOP headquarters in the states or the Manning School. Was it straight from the Ten Neo Commandments. It is all meisterspinning. Nobody is buying.

But Peter Bell’s comment only seemed to embolden Lie Detector. He probably loves it when anyone mistakes his diatribing for some sort of official policy.

N B, however, actually tried communicating sense with Lie Detector:

Lie Detector from Toronto You blame the wrong people for the problems in Afghanistan. The war was lost the moment American invaded Iraq. The majority of NATO countries knew the brain dead right wing strategy of not knowing what motivates your enemy and never compromising or communicating with them was wrong. The right wingers believe we must beat them into submission and force them to become something we want them to be. Good luck, it's never worked before.

Lie Detector wasn’t the least interested. Pounding my keyboard, he made complete nonsense of N B’s comment. Thus:

… N B you are too hasty leaping to that conclusion. I am against idiotic ideology -- regardless left or right. See? I almost agree with you. Just only except for slight elaboration. Like this: The military wars -- whether Afghan or Iraqi -- were won faster than flashes in pans. The ideological police actions were then immediately lost. The ideological, incoherent, ignorant police actions seeking to impose democracy at gunpoint were lost. Of course they were lost. Democracy means never imposing at gunpoint. Right? No gunning is democratically legitimate other than in self-defending. Bush has done incomparably more harm to democracy than militant Islamic fundamentalism. The Bush regime has scuttled the former bastion of democracy -- United States -- and set back democratic culture in the tolerant West a couple centuries. See? Just because I stand against the ideological left doesn't mean I stand for the ideological right. Not while I stand against ideology.

There was lots more –- all in the same gushing vein. Much as I might resent Lie Detector’s eruptions, however -– secretly I was cheering for him. Especially following this particular comment:

Derek Holtom wrote: "cbc just reported the Taliban said no thanks" Sure, Derek. But they thought about it. They're still thinking about it. You got'ta have some understanding how they feel, Derek. Islamic Jihad of Taliban and other varieties ran off full scale Soviet invasion. And now what? They can't run off 2000 NATO (especially) Canadian troops? While reading all about the "support our troops -- disband Canadian military!" leftie hysteria here in Canada? It's hard to swallow, Derek. Try to appreciate how they feel. Like, which side is god on, anyhow? Is it worth it? Our Canadian troops even being there? Until such time as Taliban gives up on militant Islamic fundamentalism sufficiently to cut some workable governance deal with Karzai? Hell, no. Not as far as I'm concerned. But still. It's debatable. Maybe after 50 years of additional futility, Taliban might start forgetting how great god is. Not likely. Maybe not even possible. But conceivable. And hence, debatable. What's not conceivable is how lefties agitate supporting our troops. What they mean by supporting our troops. As if slandering our troops and cheering terror were not treason but civic duty. As if being Canadian was all about totalitarian fundamentalism.

Anyhow. There was no way. After the terrible things Lie Detector wrote about Taliban Jack –- and me secretly cheering for Lie Detector -– how could I possibly shake Jack’s hand last Friday?

On the other hand, Rosie DiManno’s I would have no second thoughts shaking. And not only since her Saturday article -- Afghans see progress that we ignore –- when she wrote:

NDP leader Jack Layton wants Canadian troops out now and Liberal leader Stéphane Dion wanted them out by early 2009 (although I'm not really sure what he favours at the moment). They've argued.. the assignment isn't working, the overall approach to Afghanistan ruinously unbalanced, the insurgency impervious to military intervention and the citizenry increasingly disillusioned, pushed by NATO further towards the neo-Taliban. Anyone who's been to Afghanistan, spent time in the company of ordinary Afghans, knows this to be emphatically untrue. It's heartening that a detached poll has borne that out. Afghans get it… [T]hey know enemy and they know friend.

Yeah. But for absurd ideology, more of us would know friend from enemy as well. Not a single second thought about shaking Rosie DiManno’s hand.