The Big News

WARNING. This is a post in which I pontificate. If you are uninterested in my pontifications (which I perfectly understand), read no further.

The big news story at the moment (aside from yet more supposed 'incompetence' at the home office) is the threat of Catholic adoption agencies to close down if they have to provide adoptions to gay couples. What I think is funny is that, in the debate that I listened to on Radio 4, all of the representatives of the 'catholic side' agreed that gay couples were quite capable of being good parents and producing perfectly well adjusted children. Since the idea that having gay parents is detrimental to a child's mental health/identity is the only rational argument against gay adoption, this is tantamount to an admission of dogmatic discrimination. Telling the difference between dogmatic and rational discrimination is as easy as asking the person why they are discriminating. A rational discriminator will give you a rational reason like, for example, 'because 90% of children brought up by gay couples have hairy palms and are blind'. Rational discrimination, in the rare instance that it is not a cover for dogmatic discrimination is ok with me. Because it will cease if the rationale is shown to be incorrect. A dogmatic discriminator, on the other hand, will answer 'because I was brought up that way' or 'because that is in keeping with the teaching of my group' (the catholic representatives on Radio 4 went with the latter). Dogmatic discrimination is bad. Not the least because it is based on a feeling that is so often wrong (yes, that is a thinly veiled reference to Iraq). But also because there is no mechanism by which this discrimination can be undermined. You can offer a dogmatic discriminator all the evidence in the world that things would be better (for children no less!) if only gay people were allowed to adopt, and they will continue to say 'that's just not how I was brought up' or 'it's still contrary to the teachings of my group'.
One final thing: The dogmatic discriminator will often use the 'turn the tables' argument. They will say 'isn't it discriminating against me that I have to allow gay couples to adopt in contravention of my beliefs?'. This argument is, in fact quite correct. But it only applies to one's right to discriminate in private life. It does not apply to the general public (who have a multitude of dogmatic views about gay couples and adoption) and thus cannot apply to anyone (person or agency) acting as a representative of the public.
So here's the summary: Rational discrimination OK because, if it is wrong, it can be eliminated. Dogmatic discrimination BAD because it is a) based on something that is prone to error and b) cannot be changed even if it is quite obviously wrong. People have a right to dogmatic discrimination in their private lives/organizations (if the want it), but not when they are acting as representatives of the public. What to do? Simple. Cut public funding to catholic adoption agencies. That way, they won't be acting as representatives of the public and, if they survive, they can continue as private agencies that turn gay couples away.

Christmas and New Year 2006 (and 2007)

Well, you're all in for it now. Jane has returned and with her the camera and with that... pictures of our Christmas break! Now I know you are all on the ragged edge of your seat, so I'll only delay by saying that Jane's flight was pretty standard despite the craptacular weather of that day (the very very windy 17th). She ate the 'usual' plane food, watched the 'usual' movies and did the 'usual' fourty minutes circling heathrow. Then the trouble started. She got to the train station ok, but the 'quick train' to Northampton turned out to be a very slow train to Milton Keynes. Ironically the slow train that left London 10 minutes before the 'quick' train actually made it to Northampton, be it an hour late. So from Euston station to Northampton (she took a cab from Milton Keynes), which should have taken 45 min took 4.5 hrs. Needless to say, she was well worn out when she arrived.

Our Christmas break started on the 15th of Dec. Obviously, our first thought was to get some Timmies, but we stopped at a Second Cup instead. I should mention that arriving in Canada from a long stay in the UK is a little strange: Everthing seems a model of efficiency and everyone is so incredibly nice and happy looking. Plus there is a distinct lack of the trash-clown look that british women seem to like so much. Like jetlag, this special appreciation for Canadian culture wears off in a few days. If it feels like that after coming back from the UK, I can only imagine what it would be like after living for a few months in France or eastern europe.

Most of our time back home can be summerized in two words: Visits and Overeating. Often together. I won't bore you with the details, but we managed to get almost everyone in (with a few unfortunate exceptions). We did have alot of catching up to do. Since we had been gone, both of Jane's siblings (Paul and Anne) had bought houses and our nephew Diego had progressed from manically watching aimlessly to manically walking amongst and playing with his many toys. He likes puzzles, anything with buttons, and especially the pool table at his grandparents (he hasn't mastered the game yet, but at 1.5 years of age, he's much better than me). We also got to see Doug and Kristina's new place, though we were bad guests on account of my falling asleep and Jane slowly loosing the ability to breathe (they have two cats and Jane and cats just don't go). Anne's house is cozy (a real estate agent would call it 'intimate' or something) but I think very well suited to her. The walls, after all, are painted the colour of coffee.

One strange side effect of arriving on the 15th was the feeling that christmas was taking forever to come. When it did, though, it came with a wimper. I'm not sure why actually, but when it was all over I had the feeling that, if I hadn't been paying close attention, I would have missed it. And I wasn't the only one, Jane's dad said the same thing. Maybe there was just much less ceremony than usual, who knows. In any case, I submit for your amusement a few pictures of us in and around X-mas day:













The major thing we had to do while we were back was to do our 'design' appointment for our house. At the moment, our house looks this:That stake on the right? The one that says 192? Thats ours baby! Yeah!... Notice the 'square' made by the four stakes in the middle? The is the footprint that (about) half a million dollars buys in Toronto these days. The design appointment is where you choose tiles, counters, rugs, wiring, lights, structural changes etc. When Paul and Angie did it, it took 40 min. When we did it, it took almost 8 hours. And that's not because there was lots more stuff to pick either, its mostly because a) Jane and I are picky and took maybe a little longer than was strictly necessary to choose some stuff and b) Jane and I are meddlesome and we changed a few things about the design and asked alot of annoying questions. One question was 'why is the house price (which includes GST) still the same after the GST was taken down 1%?'. This question has not been answered to my satisfaction and I'm going to be asking our lawyer about it.

The last major event before going home was the anual New Years party with the old Trent University crewe. This year was extra interesting because we got to meet two new 'significant others'! Shawn has been dating Geneva for round 7 months. She has a mint condition original nintendo. In other words, we like her. And Mira has just started seeing Nick. We like him too (in spite of the fact that, to my knowledge, he does not have a mint condition original nintendo). The party got started with a round... a very big round, in fact... of wings. We went to a chain called 'Wild Wings' which specializes in, well, wings. In fact, there's hardly anything else on the menu. Just wings with every kind of sauce imaginable. We ordered an 8-flavor, 200 wing batch. And some of those flavors were excellent. After that, we went back to Paul and Debbie's (yet another new house to see) and did what came naturally after major gluttony, which was to sit on our asses and drink. The latter was facilitated by an alcohol pump (gravity fed, made to look like a maniature old gas pump) in which were made liters of some very good 'shooter' drinks. In any case, it was an excellent party!

And then it was back to the UK for one last 4.5 month stint! See you all wehn we're back for good!

A Heartbreaking Tale of Woe (about my car)

Actually, it's not that bad, but this morning, there was a comedy of errors that arose from my unmanly ineptitude with cars. Our story begins at pearson airport (many days before it should).

Jan 8th, 10:45 pm (EST): My plane leaves the tarmac, and, contrary to my expectations, does not plummet from the sky during takeoff (or anytime thereafter). This is exactly 1 hr 45 min later than we were supposed to leave, however, we are assured our flight will be greatly shortened by a very strong tail wind, which is one of the reasons that we are late in leaving (a strong tail wind on the way back is a strong head wind on the way over). The other reason is that there was some damage to one of the doors. Can't say I was too happy to hear about that, but my main concern remained with the engines. In any case I could expect to be well anesthetized by their new entertainment system, which featured full on video on demand!

Jan 9th, ~6:00 am (GMT): We hit some turbulence. This marks the first time that I have almost had need of a 'special bag'. Am disappointed to note the lack of said bag in my seat pocket. I should point out that turbulence scares me not a bit. My concerns are limited to engine and/or flap failure and/or anything else that could theoretically cause the plane to take a nosedive.

Jan 9th, 9:30 am (GMT): We land. There is some bumpiness. Scratch that. There is alot of bumpiness. Am again disturbed at lack of available bag.

Jan 9th, 12:30 pm (GMT): Am finally free of Heathrow. Relatively quick trip through customs (only 5 switchbacks!) helps me not a bit as baggage handlers loose all bags from a flight to chicago and spend next 1.5 hrs trying to fix that instead of loading bags form newly arriving planes. Have been up for 23 hrs. No hallucinations as yet - they usually come around 30-35 hrs for me.

Jan 9th, 4:30 pm (GMT): Arrive home after relatively smooth tube/train trip to Northampton. Riding on my second wind (i.e. jetlag) I do not go to sleep.

Jan 10th, all day: Sleep. Restock house somewhat from Sainsburys. Sleep. Wake up at 2 am (GMT). Go to bed. Sleep.

Jan 11th, 7:15 am: Not happy about waking up at what my body thinks is 2 am. Stumble to car. Electric lock don't work. Battery is basically dead.

Jan 11th, 9:00 am: Go to Halfords (Canadian Tire-like), buy car battery recharging apparatus.

Jan 11th, 9:30 am: Discover that purchased apparatus does not have it's own battery and is not particularly suitable for sealed 'maintenance free' batteries like the one in my car. Decide to try anyways, despite risk of explosion, but need to get an extension cord.

Jan 11th, 10:00 am: Return from second trip to Halfords. Read instructions (out of character, but I prefer not to be electrocuted if possible).

Jan 11th, 10:15 am: Plug everything in in correct order. Seems to be working.

Jan 11th, 10:18 am: IT STARTS TO RAIN. Continuing charging procedure would be contrary to goals of not being electrocuted and car not exploding. Pretty much give up on going to work.

Since then: It has stopped raining and the car is being charged. It almost turned over last time with 15min so, I'll give it about an hour, then try it...

Good times.

More to come on Christmas etc. I'm going to wait till Jane gets home so that there will be some pictures...

I'm Baaaaack!

Well, after 13hrs of travel for a 6 hour flight, I'm back and resting comfortably in Northampton. I'd love to tell you all about my Christmas adventures with pictures etc. but frankly, I am just too damn tired. I have now been up for 30 hrs straight (well, my fear for my life did wane sufficiently at one point during the flight for me to lapse into what I think was partial unconsciousness). In any case, I'm safely landed back in the UK and will regail you with tales of Christmas cheer and woe when my head is less fuzy and when fewer munchkins are dancing on my computer keys.