Today is “Thanksgiving Day.” No gym, because its a holy day. In that regard it has a singular positiveness – it’s a secular holy day, so it’s not an instance of the mystical and superstitious bogs imposing their prejudices and villainy on the rest of us. That doesn’t mean they won’t try; I haven’t been to a “Thanksgiving” repast in years without the deity being invoked in horribly human, Us-Them fashions. One thing I have never understood is that if the deity created humans deliberately then why should he/she/it prefer one flavor of human over another.
And if only the good die young, wouldn’t that favor be placed on the ones being discorporated?
I am not sure what I have to be thankful for. My existence? Birth was beyond my control; it followed from sexual congress of my parents. They may have wanted pregnancy but I doubt that had any conception of what they would be getting.
My family? Again, my natal family is beyond my control. And I should like to say beyond my deep appreciation. They are mostly EXTRO Bogs with the usual antipathy shading into hatred for INTROs and Nerds/Geeks. What is amazing is that I will put up with their presence for a while due to some not understood social obligation. And then go home thoroughly sickened both physically and psychologically.
My constructed family. Certainly I am thankful for FD SCP. But I have that every day and need not a holy day for it. I am of mixed mind now because we spent Two Day at Nawth Alibam’s Shining City on the Hill’s premiere hospital. The reason was the FD SCP needed some plumbing adjustments; for me, and less for her, it was an exercise in vertical copulation and borderline incompetence. She was unconscious most of the time and missed much of the disaster.
No, not a disaster ass in conflagration or such, more like a series of absolutely avoidable screw-ups. We were supposed to be there at 0530 for 0630 surgery. That kept slipping until 1045 because the cutter was indisposed. I knew better than to ask whether his problems were managerial, chemical, or physiological. Happily the crowd of other people’s relatives in the hospital stock yard – the conditions such that if we were cattle the FDA would close down the facility for cruelty and lack of sanitation – was smaller than usual if not more restrained. The noise level in this place was such that the staff abandoned their electronic public address system and walked about imitating town criers. The cutters were livid and nasty because they had to wait to reassure the chief relative over the telephone; evidently face-to-face reports are not part of contemporary medical practice. I suppose they also have a hireling to take the money to bank?
Couple that with an atmosphere of imminent wailing by the interminable large groups of relatives gathered for operations with failure probabilities less than 1%. I could understand the gathering if the probability of survival was half or less but more certain than the motorcar trip to/from hospital? Makes one wonder how Bogs still exist.
So scant thankfulness for anything there other than FD SCP and I surviving our visit to hospital. Which did make me thankful for Semelweis and Lister. I can also say I that I was singularly unthankful for the foodstuffs. Amazing how much sodium can be packed into otherwise tasteless dietitian designed offerings. The coffee, imported from a nearby Starbucks was the best thing and those who read this blog know my ratings on that.
I can also say that after this I had a certain empathy for the British at the battle of Isandlwanda where the callous thought absence of others did them in. One expects rather more of medicalists whose priorities seem not even on treatment.
But we both survived and I suppose I should be thankful of that.
The air temperature is below the phase change of water into ice, and with the gym closed for some devious reason, I am unthankful for being unable to exercise my corpus. And I shall have to eat unusual foodstuffs this afternoon and I shall be deeply unthankful for that, but deeply thankful for simethacone and oil of peppermint.
I shall also be thankful for this not being the next major holiday which will not be secular and will have an order of magnitude more superstition harassment. And I will be thankful when this day of thankfulness is over. Nothing like a ridiculous social torture to make one appreciate reality.
I should append that I am also thankful that I will not have to venture out on the morrow to spend money. I have already received innumerable (not really but beyond my interest or desire) advertisements. I was especially taken with the one from Sam’s Club: the offerings were so boggish as to make me wonder how long it will be before the nausea subsides and I will even think of trading with them. Into the new year I expect.
I am unthankful, however, that I will be unable to do needful acquisition for a while because of all the Bogs out chasing false bargains and adamantinely packaged rubbish. Whether physical presence or internet clogging, their odious, nauseating subservience to capitalist disease is clogging.