Heartwarming or heartbreaking?

January 14, 2009 at 9:34 pm (Thoughts and Issues)
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Critics and TV audiences all cheered as Slumdog Millionaire received its five Golden Globe awards. I still remember walking out of the theater and seeing the ecstatic faces of the patrons as they gingerly exchanged bits of praise for the film. Some were heard to remark on its “freshness”. I however, was less than happy. While I am not trying to take away from the cinematography or the quality of the film itself, I am trying to say that the supposed “fairytale” with which we all fell in love may in fact be less than magical. It may just hold the very worst of what we as a society are capable—but in a very sweet and rosy sugar-coated shell.

The stellar reviews are raving about this wonderful tale of love overcoming adversity and the power of the human heart. However, if one takes a closer look at the film, one begins to realize that the odds stacked against the protagonist (Jamal) are not just improbable—they are impossible. I won’t go into the intricacies of the actual story to argue the incredulity of each individual case but rather, look at the central theme as a whole.

Whether or not you liked the film and left the theater feeling good inside, there is one thing with which you simply cannot argue: this film depicts some of the most deplorable acts of which we as a people are capable. Some have argued that redemption then becomes the governing factor, but if you look at the film as a whole then you’ll understand when I say: “hardly”. The few good deeds that happen throughout this film are a perfect example of the proverbial “too little too late”. Let’s just be honest with ourselves and look at what this film is really saying (whether it was intended or not).

Theme number one: a child from the streets of the slum has no chance in hell of getting an education and earning money in an honest manner. Don’t believe me? Before the police interrogations and harassment, just look at the way the game show host mocks the boy for just trying to earn an honest living before the show even starts. Theme number two: forget the “love conquers all” concept you’ve been hearing about, try “after a lifetime of gross injustice, the fragments of a shattered love affair can maybe be put together but only if you get really really lucky”. Don’t argue that his life taught him the answers to the game; the last one was a complete guess. Third on the list is: hope. A whole nation prays along with Jamal and wishes him well in his struggle against their mutual oppressors. But we must not make the mistake of calling this “hope”. Sure they want him to succeed—if only to see a minor victory for their side—but in no way are any of them naive enough to think it could happen to them.

So why am I so critical of this film? Aren’t we all entitled to our opinions? Of course. But I do not see this as a matter of taste. I truly believe, in a very real sense, that this film is dangerous. Dangerous because it serves up a hefty dose of wolf and dresses it in pretty sheep’s clothing. Rape, genocide, betrayal, poverty, greed, corruption… these are not issues typically associated with a heartwarming love story; yet every one of them is prevalent throughout this movie. So wherein lies the danger you ask? Should we ban all forms of media that try to tackle these undesirable traits of humanity? Of course not. But neither should we mix these with positive emotions that mask the true horror of the atrocity at hand.

There is a known phenomenon in Neuro-linguistic programming called “anchoring”. It describes what happens when a mood or state of mind becomes “anchored” to a particular outside stimulus and can be subsequently recalled. Just think Pavlov’s dog but substitute a touch on the arm for the light and human laughter for the dog. Or try exposure to the otherwise overwhelming sadness of poverty and rape and superimpose ‘hope’ and a story of unrequited ‘love’… exactly as the makers of Slumdog Millionaire have done. And that my friends, is why I worry about this film; and all of you, who’ve seen it.

Whether you live in the slums of Mumbai or the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, you won’t need much persuasion to agree with my next point. However, if you’re reading this from your den in suburban New Jersey, I might just have to offer an explanation before you consider what I have to say. It is exactly this: the world is an ugly place (I hate for that to be the case but alas that’s the way it is sometimes). A dreadful place where understanding and morality have not yet reached the necessary saturation for us to treat each other in a manner befitting a human being. As the denizens of the aforementioned slums take a momentary break from scrounging through piles of refuse to offer up a nod of agreement, Bob, from his den in Jersey questions me by recalling an episode from last Tuesday where his wallet was picked up and returned by a fellow pedestrian. No bills or credit cards were missing.

Bob is then rudely shaken from his thoughts by a heedless email indicator blinking in the bottom right of his screen. He allows for the interruption only to be met with yet another missive from a Nigerian prince requiring just a few thousand dollars in legal fees in order to bestow his entire fortune upon the only man he trusts—Bob. But Bob is no fool. He deletes the email in a perfunctory fashion and being already distracted from his quandary, navigates to a news site without giving his actions a second thought. There he chances upon an article about yet another of Madoff’s fraud victims. That in turn links him to the latest developments in the Blagojevich corruption saga… and so it goes.

Yes, it’s all real and living in the poorer areas of the world, you will unfortunately see and experience the worst of it. However, even if you are among the lucky ones like Bob and you have managed to carve out a safe and blissful existence for yourself, please don’t turn a blind eye to what is really happening in the world or in your own back yard at times. Do not be afraid to question things and take action. This film is not about love or hope. It’s the story of a boy who wants only to be with the girl he loves but cannot do so due to the brutality of the social climate he lives in. Against impossible odds he gets her back but not before she is deprived of her childhood, deprived of her innocence, and deprived of her beauty. You call this a happy ending?

 

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Let’s not lose our heads people!

August 6, 2008 at 6:31 pm (Thoughts and Issues)
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In the past two weeks, the world has borne witness to a series of gruesome decapitations which took place in various parts of the globe. Though this is hardly a new phenomenon, it was with one of these incidents that everyone suddenly took notice. Because this time it was not performed in a grotesque ritualistic manner by some tribe of Pygmies in rural Uganda, but rather, right under our own observing eyes. By now you all see where I’m going with this: the Canadian Greyhound bus decapitation. But like I said – though this incident did get the most coverage, it was by no means an isolated case. A 20 year old drug dealing youth decapitated and hacked his British girlfriend to pieces in Brazil. A Greek man decapitated his wife and lead police on a wild chase while brandishing the severed head. A British man was found dead in his flat, having had his head severed by means of a chainsaw. All four incidents seem to be in a dead heat when it comes to their contention for brutality, yet one is steadily keeping the world’s gaze. Is Vince Weiguang Li just meaner and uglier than the rest; Tim McLean easier to sympathize with, or is there something else? Read on.

Of course at the forefront there is the ever-prevalent draw: our fascination with the brutal and the grotesque. The news media has turned fear into an art form and riding on the coattails of carnival freak shows, has learned of the attention grabbing power of shock. Since all the afore mentioned cases alike in savagery, lets now turn to the true appeal of the Greyhound case: motive. Or to be more precise, the lack thereof. The Brazilian was driven to murder through a cocaine induced stupor and a meddling girl with a cockney accent. Athanassios Arvanitis of Greece had a history of aggression and was presumably feeling slighted after having been laid off from his job as a chef. Finally, as the article suggests, the Hampshire man was simply impeding a redevelopment effort and needed “convincing” to relocate. Yet the murderer of Tim McLean struck out of nowhere! No provocation and no apparent motive at all. Now that’s fascinating. In his act of heinous savagery, Li has given us all something to ruminate over. Letting us all act out our inner Clarice Starling in hopes of seeing through the eyes of the killer himself.

But before we wander down that dark abyss, lets look at what we’re actually dealing with here. Decapitation has been around for thousands of years, and at some points in time, has even been the preferred method of execution. Let this history lesson serve as food-for-thought for you anti-death penalty supporters out there. The word ‘capital’ (as in capital crime, capital offense, and more importantly, capital punishment) comes from the Latin caput, meaning “head”. This of course is a throw-back to where the terms derive their meaning. As you may have guessed, a capital crime or offense is punishable by the forfeiture of ones head! So let us either honor our ancient traditions or come up with a modern Latin derivative for “transgress against your countries laws and live off the citizen’s tax money till you expire”.

Regardless of how brutal the act may actually seem, it is purported to be one of the least painful ways to die… when executed properly (no pun intended). As Wikipedia claims “If the headsman’s axe or sword was sharp and his aim was true, decapitation was quick and was presumed to be a relatively painless form of death. If the instrument was blunt or the executioner clumsy, however, multiple strokes might be required to sever the head. The person to be executed was therefore advised to give a gold coin to the headsman so that he did his job with care.” In the days when dying in battle was deemed “honorable”, death by beheading was indeed the desired approach as one did ultimately succumb to an instrument of war. Strangely enough, this honor would only extend to the sword, and deaths conducted by means of an axe were reserved for commoners or those not deemed worthy of honorary departure. Of course there remains little to be said of honor with the onset of the notorious guillotine. In cultures such as that of Japan, the beheading is similarly a… double edged sword (I swear I didn’t mean it like that)! While decapitation was a common form of execution for criminals and soldiers who showed cowardice in battle, it was also a most honorable end to the act of sepuku as it brought a hasty end to the victim and… cut (I’m done apologizing) their chances of screaming out and dishonoring themselves in the process.

Even despite these historic appeals to the commonness of this practice, in our society it is certainly revolting. Despite the fact that beheadings still go on today as government sanctioned activities in places around the world (Saudi Arabia being a big fan), it’s just not something we do. Historically we may idolize certain victims of decapitation, like Sir William Wallace and St. John the Baptist, sympathize with others (i.e. the wives of Henry VIII), and occasionally smirk at the fate of someone like Marie Antoinette. Yet none of these prepare us for dealing with the issue in our current modern milieu. Just think of how you would react if confronted with the scene of a decapitation. For all our history lessons and Hollywood gore, the scene aboard the Greyhound looked a bit like this: “Some people were puking, some people were crying, other people were in shock … everybody was running, screaming off the bus,” according to an eyewitness. All the while, the attacker made no attempts or showed no signs of aggression towards any of the other passengers. “He calmly walks up to the front [of the bus] with the head in his hand and the knife and just calmly stares at us and drops the head right in front of us,” a passenger said. “There was no rage in him … It was just like he was a robot or something.”

Now lets compare Li’s behavior to that of the other maniacs. Both Athanassios and Mohammed Carvalho dos Santos are unsavory characters. One has a history of aggressive behavior while the other deals hard drugs. Li however, is described as a quiet and hardworking individual. Having immigrated from his native China, Li faced a tough language barrier, but despite that, employers had this to say “we have a very patient staff and he seemed to respond well”. Both Athanassios and Mohammed committed their crimes under some distress and during arguments with their victims. Li on the other hand, assaulted a sleeping man who was wearing headphones; utterly oblivious to his surroundings. Finally we arrive at one commonality: both Li and Athanassios brandished the severed heads for onlookers to observe. Mohammed (pictured here smirking mockingly) did originally try to cover up his crime but later came forward and lead investigators to the scene to witness the remains of his girlfriend. All of these cases involve a decapitation in the aftermath of the murder. This can serve as nothing but a testament to the disregard of the perpetrator towards his victim. A final act of posthumous dishonor even after life has been stripped from them. Literally like the case of David’s triumph over Goliath.

Do they see themselves as heroes? The world certainly doesn’t. In a classical sense, a hero would have the skill and the bravery to behead an opponent in battle. So why else make a display of their savagery? At this point all hopes of getting away with the crime have gone out the window and the individual is only acting out a script which can only end in their inevitable demise. No longer driven by rage or desire for revenge, the only remaining factor seems to be… recognition. And lucky for them, that’s not something we as a society are in short supply of. Li will continue to make headlines so long as we continue to await breaking developments in this case as if it were the next exciting Lost episode. Never once stopping to assume for a second, that maybe that’s all there is to it. Just maybe, the man is a maniac. Having no rhyme or reason as maniacs tend not to have. What would we do then? Focus on the upcoming election perhaps until something else steals the spotlight.

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Attachment too large

July 15, 2008 at 8:30 pm (Thoughts and Issues)
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As luxury sedans whisk by me on a busy mid-town intersection, I can just barely make out the looks of dismay on the faces of the drivers through their heavily tinted windows. I stop to ponder the possible causes of their concern. Certainly today’s market conditions and global events offer plenty of disheartening reasons, but these people are the elite. Being referred to as “upper middle class” would likely insult them and though they would probably scoff at hearing it, it would undoubtedly be the topic of their next therapy session. Most of us are not like that. We get by without being “well-off” – if you can still call it that. Yet even in this land of plenty, we have an incredibly high suicide rate coupled with a heavy dependence on mood altering medication. This all goes to suggest one simple thing: as a society, we are unhappy. Privileged, secure, having had our hunger satiated and our needs met, but still largely unhappy. So what is really happening to us? Has Maslow failed to factor a thing or two into his infamous Hierarchy? Or are we simply overlooking something so elementary in nature that it simply goes unnoticed by the majority?

Well yes actually, it really is that simple. It’s called an attachment. It comes in many shapes and sizes and as part of its devious nature, it loves to play with masks (and not in the kinky fun kind of way). Though this duality is hardly grounds for a lengthy article, its the psychological burdens with witch these attachments are laden that I want to address. Ultimately it is the sum of all the little agitators, piggy-backing on things like our “lucky” hat or the object of our latest “gotta-have-it” whim, that eventually add up to depression and high blood pressure. Before I go further in trying to uncover the various guises which attachments may hide behind, let me first clear up, for semantics sake, what I DON’T mean by attachment. An attachment to other PEOPLE is a natural and healthy thing, and something that we as humans have come to thrive on (but even here, it is essential to note the difference between a healthy and natural attachment, and the often confused, yet always detrimental, dependency). That having been said, let me give a simple example which illustrates just one shade of the attachment chameleon.

While out with some friends at a lively themed restaurant, I wound up ordering my drink in a “souvenir” cup, rather than the plain alternative. This is unlike me, but it wasn’t too much more, and I really liked its design. Upon taking it home with me, its impracticality quickly began to dawn on me. It soon became clear that drinking from it on a regular basis would be infeasible. Although a couple of subsequent guests, my good friend being one of them, did compliment the cup and noted that it was indeed “cool”, it did not take me long to realize that the longer the cup stayed in my possession, the more I would come to resent it. Luckily for me, this realization came sooner rather than later and I was able to correct my initial mistake. Yet I could not help but think that with most people this would not have been the case. The cup would have languished in their household indefinitely while they wondered why they felt a strange tightness in their chest while passing by their cabinet. By the way, I did end up giving it to someone who thought it was “cool” as an act of “good will” for which they were very grateful, and if you are reading this now, I am sorry.

Like I said, this was unlike me. I do not often let clutter collect in my house and do periodically make it a point to purge the useless things which accumulate. Yet for many people, their possessions, and the incessant need to possess become tremendous sources of stress. Junk piles up. The apartment gets cramped and messy. Arguments with loved ones break out. Yet the connection is never made between all this and the growing tension within these individuals. In some cases, this alone is enough to cause misery and depression. In her article from Psychology Today, Dr. Hara Estroff Marano addresses this very issue and brings its true magnitude to light by calling it what it really is: a disorder. Luckily here, as with all attachments, the solution is simple. Not only so, but even taking the first step can be incredibly liberating and fulfilling: Just – Let – Go.

As far as clutter goes, it really is that simple. Start small. Pick one item which just looks tacky and out of place, and throw it out. Yes, I know you got it in St. Martin while you were still with Ray, but do it nonetheless and don’t look back. In another article from P.T., Matthew Hutson discusses the various techniques which you can employ to rid yourself of clutter’s burden. Easy enough since after all, it’s just clutter. The real problem arises when we take account the more important items in our lives. The items that we have come to depend on, identify with, and ultimately define our selves in terms of.

These days, its safe to assume that everyone owns a cellphone. Some even own several. After all the new iPhone is a must right? So what if your old contract doesn’t expire till January. Point is, we all have them, and we can’t imagine life without one… right?? Yet have we not all lost a cell phone at one point or another? Left it at home during a trip or simply gone for an extended stay in an area with limited reception? Were these not moments of blissful freedom? The reality of the matter then appears that there really is very little we cannot do without. Refer yourself to Maslow’s Hierarchy once more and please tell me if the iPhone has already taken its rightful place atop the pyramid.

I don’t want to just be singling out the iPhone here exclusively. In this land of emptiness, where materialism is force-fed to us at every intersection and intermission, the simple ownership for the sake of utility has gone out the window. Its not enough to have a PC anymore, it has to be Apple. Not enough to own a vehicle, it has to be a status symbol. Even the coffee we drink must carry with it a brand premium. So what happens when you’ve amassed all the elements of the American happiness formula? Aside from the eternal indebtedness to the credit card companies, nothing! You sit there wondering why after all this stuff you still feel so desperately empty. In a final act of desperation all you can do is put it all together. So you get into your status symbol on wheels, drive it down to your local Starbucks, set your macBook and iPhone on the counter and let them interface over the distributed wi-fi, only to bring you an up-to-date spreadsheet of how utterly empty your life has become. You would cry out, were you not surrounded by similarly situated individuals all sitting there scouring the net for that inevitable missing piece of the material puzzle. So you dawn your caffeinated smile.

We have unfortunately reached a point of total identity dissolution through means of envy and paid product placement. Looking at our friends in the department store mirror, we say things like “oh that’s so you”, and after a while, guess what: it is! But it does not have to be like this. We can be happy with less on the outside if we begin enriching ourselves from the inside. Grow as individuals. Learn more, consume less. Find fulfillment in the things we do rather than the things we brandish in front of our co-workers in a pathetic plea for envy. Lets define ourselves for who we really are. It’s easy, I’ll go first: I am an athletic wayfarer with a perpetual thirst for knowledge who takes great delight in a fine cup of tea. Your turn. And please note: if you use the word “homeowner”, state your age, career designation, or refer to your employment status, I would thank you to either re-read this article or just navigate back to the Home Shopping Network or something. Thank you.

Materials Referenced:
Hoarding: Trash as Treasure
Hoarding: Learning to Let Go

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Quite taken… back to reality

June 27, 2008 at 8:24 pm (Relationships)
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I am sitting on a southbound express train, wedged between two individuals that can’t seem to take a hint from the uniform plastic seating, from which their body’s excess overflows onto my lap, that perhaps it may be time to take up exercise. OK fine, that triviality has nothing to do with the topic of this post, but I just had to get it off my chest (or off my lap in this particular case). The fact that I have just been made a junior size patty in a super-size bun does not bother me all that much, since I have come to accept it as a natural part of my morning commute. Instead I am staring directly at the brunette sitting across from me; three seats to the right. I can do this with utmost confidence, unflinching, because of the $15 pair of imitation designer shades which I bought from a Chinese man near Fulton market. Again, neither here nor there, though it does let me focus on my inner thought process without worrying about when she’ll decide to look up in my direction. To make the experience even more authentic, I am employing the old misdirection trick. Shifting my head about 20 degrees to the left of her, then adjusting my eyes back to the right (oh don’t even try to pretend this is new to you). Five minutes into the ride I realize that my technique has inadvertently put my “apparent” gaze directly at yet another plastic seat offender, but I can’t say that I care. If anything, she will mistake it for flattery and it will make her day. I am a good person.

Back to the brunette, who sits oblivious to our entire setting, ears plugged by a pair of isolating headphones (probably Sony), listening to what I can only imagine being dance music, judging by the subtle bob of her head. Did I mention she’s cute? No? Well she is. Very cute. I try to think of an opening line… context… need context. Her bag looks nice; real, no doubt. Something I would have probably chastised her for owning had she already been my girlfriend, but this is all new and exciting so I let it slide. Instead I imagine how we would be spending our “night in”, maybe 2 or 3 months into the relationship, once familiarity has already been established. Would she be wearing boy shorts or jammies? Nothing about her current appearance gives me anything to base that question on. Suddenly reality begins to set in. Logic is quickly fighting the reigns from my little romantic heart. Cold calculating logic.

Why does she have her headphones (actually starting to look like Bose on closer inspection) in?? She could be taking this precious time to read! But audio books do exist… and are gaining popularity among us busy commuters. Get real. Unless she is agreeing with every word the author has said thus far, it’s more likely that it’s just the latest Rihanna album. The designer handbag catches my attention again, this time the offense is not so easily dismissed. Now I am thinking that I’ve probably seen her at a bar somewhere, amidst a group of girls that look just like she does, aligned in almost Spartan formation to help her fend of people like me with their spears of contempt. And what kind of “person” am I anyway? Just someone who has taken in interest in exchanging a few words in hopes of possibly seeing a real human side to her? I know, total creep right?

Thank god she can’t see my eyes. I am certain that by now my enamored curious gaze has twisted into a look of sheer contempt. I have nothing against the poor thing, so I look away. Down. I am thinking of all the girls I know. About what a miserable percentage the bunch of them that are literate, actually comprise. About the trite exchanges of words that happen between us on a daily basis. We smile at one another as we walk away. I smile because to onlookers it seems like I am popular among the opposite sex, they smile because… I don’t actually know why they smile; maybe there is an upcoming sale at “Bloomies”. Yes, that is how it usually ends.

At the bottom of it all lies the fact that though I am taken with her cuteness, it’s really not at all what I am interested in. Sure it’s a factor. A very necessary factor. But it is nothing without her ability to appreciate a joke without getting “self conscious”. To banter about why Dan Brown’s latest book will sweep the nation despite him being a second-rate writer. And of course about the book itself when it does inevitably come out because despite our judgments of the man, we are both secretly eager to read it. Her discretion in NOT bantering about why her boss annoys her, and telling me only ONCE that her pinkie hurts (because I do listen). Did I mention that I am a good person? The ability to appreciate a good wine. Being content with walking around aimlessly just so long as my hand is holding hers. Being, doing, not doing….

I know there will be those among you that read this and automatically scoff at everything I’ve written here. Saying something along the lines of “look at him trying to mask a fear of rejection behind a facade of pseudo-intellectual bullshit”. And you would be right. Though it’s not the fear of rejection that gets me, its the fear of rejection by a person that (as I’ve statistically calculated above) is probably not worth my time to begin with. Sure this defeatist attitude will get me nowhere, but I don’t mind since all I see it as is a screening mechanism that keeps me clear of dull, uninspiring females. I would like to end this post by saying “I am happy”.

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Install Media Player 11 Without Genuine Windows Copy

June 19, 2008 at 4:52 am (Technology)
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OK so you chose not to pony up the exorbitant pile of cash necessary to procure a genuine copy of windows. Good for you! (Bad for Microsoft). So now you find yourself sittin’ pretty in a vibrating leather chair which you bought with the excess dough enjoying a hardy laugh. Alright, so Windows Media Player 11 won’t install on your system. It’s nothing but a resource hog anyway and pales in comparison to just about any rival player out there (many of which are free!). No worries right? Right… until the day comes when you decide to watch a streaming movie from your Netflix account (which you did legitimately pay for I’m assuming [otherwise you need to let a brotha know!]). Well now this just isn’t fair. Now now, do not fret, thanks to Microsoft’s blatant ineptitude, the solution is as simple as pie (assumption here is you are already skilled at pie making). So lets move on shall we?

There are no cracks to download or patches to apply. All you need here is a good compression app (something other than Winzip). I recommend either WinRar ( Free Download Here ) or 7zip. Now once you have that, all we need to get started is the actual Media Player 11 installer. Luckily this is available from Microsoft without any validation.  Microsoft Page

Once you download the executable, wmp11-windowsxp-x86-enu.exe , all that remains is to extract its contents into a folder of your choice. Right click on it and in the case of WinRar, hit extract to <folder name> . Now all the executables are right at your fingertips. First run the wmfdist11.exe file. Once this completes, reboot your machine. Next, run the
wmp11.exe file. Next… there is no next! It’s that easy! Turn up the vibrating motors on that chair of yours and enjoy everything Netflix has to offer.

Here are the steps in case you want to skip the fancy talk and get right down to business

  1. Download Winrar if not already installed
  2. Download Microsoft Media Player 11
  3. Extract its contents into a new folder using WinRar (or utility of choice)
  4. Run wmfdist11.exe
  5. Reboot
  6. Run wmp11.exe
  7. Enjoy

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Pest problem, or something more?

June 16, 2008 at 3:40 pm (Thoughts and Issues)
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Every now and again, in my efforts to stay green and minimize my carbon footprint, I venture out into the city by way of public transportation. Aside from the reading material which I keep handy at all times, I also like to really look around and take in my environment. Aside from the fact that I actually enjoy people watching and taking in the scenery around me, it makes sense to stay alert just to make sure some deranged lunatic can’t sneak up behind me and stick me with a hypodermic needle (AIDS infested). After all, this is New York.

All this aside, it was not the deranged lunatics, nor any other people I met that day which really caught my attention. Instead, it was 2 public service advertisements that I happened to come across which really got me thinking. Most people would have probably taken them at face value, or ignored them completely, but I saw a connection with potentially profound implications. After all, there is always truth hiding under our very noses.

The first poster hung in the waiting area of the Staten Island ferry terminal. A place which many of the unfortunate tourists who pass through it daily know, (the ones that don’t look up) is infested with pigeons.
The poster had on it a silhouette of a common city pigeon as its backdrop, and read in bold lettering: IF YOU FEED THEM, YOU BREED THEM. Granted, this is an informative public service message, yet I walked away thinking: what is the corollary here? If we dissect this statement, does it not follow that if you don’t feed them, they will die? Surely it is not the fault of the pigeons that our city streets are diseased and contaminated. I guess this is one case, the city feels, where it’s OK to shoot the messenger.

The implications of that message, being what they were, I still had to move on and get on the boat despite the fact that my last realization left a sour taste in my mouth. And here is where this whole story comes together. While waiting to disembark, i notice another poster, paid for by one of our municipal agencies. This one had as its background, a colorful display of gastronomically inviting food. And it read: GET MORE, GET FOOD STAMPS. Now it did not take long for my relational logic gears to start picking this apart and I am sure you have just realized for yourselves, the conclusion at which I arrived.

Thats right folks, if you feed ‘em you breed ‘em, and I am no longer talking about pigeons. Clearly the city of New York is being very selective in the types of pests that it’s willing to tolerate. Of course since pigeons are to blame for everything, its OK to overburden our already overexploited welfare system by advertising it all over mass transit. Suddenly the old adage comes to mind about teaching a man to fish. How does that one go… give the man a fish, feed him for a day – put the man on welfare and he will find all the loopholes he can to stay on it and abuse the system for as long as humanly possible (indefinitely in some cases). Yeah, I think that was it.

There is no easy answer here. I am not an economist nor do I claim to have the solution for keeping our civil service recipients honest. All I can do is expose irony where I see it. Of course we cannot fix the system overnight, but surely we can stop making certain mistakes that are bound to perpetuate the problems. I’m not suggesting we start taking food away from the unemployed and giving it to our pigeons, but maybe we can begin by tightening our eligibility criteria for who may be entitled to their share of taxpayer money. Surely I am not being too cynical in saying any of this?

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