It's All About Me (sure it is, dear, sure it is...) 1

I imagine it could be time to resume writing in my blog material other than, or, as well as, my novel, the Peacock.  I quit writing reflective, controversial, current and challenging material in the wake of the attempt of the Anglican Archdiocese of New Westminster to threaten me with their lawyers if I did not stop writing and publishing on these pages "defamatory" if very true material about those pious bastards  Well, I did win, by threatening to and starting to go totally public on them.  The cowards backed off, and even though I offered them forgiveness, to this day they refuse reconciliation with me.  Much better to save that for our First Nations People, since that gives the Anglican church of Canada such excellent PR.  I suppose it could be said they would rather reserve their pearls for worthier swine. Well, I simply no longer care.  I have been through two other churches and denominations since then, the Lutheran and the United Church of Canada, and I will likely write more on those ecclesiastical soap operas on future pages. Today, I was riding the number 33 bus out to Pacific Spirit Regional Park, that fabulous sprawling second growth forest near UBC..  One more time, on the bus, a young man was illegitimately squatting on the courtesy seat nearest the front.  Somewhere in his twenties, not going to mention his nationality or race because selfish indifference appears to be a universal human trait.  There was lots of space both in the front and in the back of the bus.  Personally I don't think younger people, unless they are children, have any business on those seats, whether they are otherwise needed or not.  I do not know Translik's position about this, but I would like to.  I am 70, so I am allowed to sit there, but I will always offer my seat to someone who needs it more, be they frail elderly, people with disabilities or mobility issues, pregnant women, or people with babies or small children.   Unless there happen to also be hale and healthy looking young people occupying those same seats, and appear to be so engrossed in their dear little smartphones that nothing else appears to be going on in their tiny universe.  Then I will say something.  If they feign deafness, I raise my voice, and will say something snappy like, excuse me, either you are too young to be sitting here or you must have a very good plastic surgeon.  Oh, and this lady needs to sit down, thank you very much.  Oh, and could you please give me the business card of your plastic surgeon?  It works every time. I am reminded of a visit to Mexico City in 2012.  On the metro train, an elderly woman was standing, and none of the selfish healthy jóvenes, or young people, would offer her a seat, not even when I tried to scold or remonstrate with them in my already fluent Spanish (I was also standing, if you must ask). So, I wrote out my frustration in my travel journal which I sent off to various friends all over the world.  One of them, Christophe, a 29 year old middle class twit who lives in Germany, responded to me with an email scolding me for daring to be so rude to people when I am visiting a foreign country.  He went on to write that when he is riding public transit, if he feels tired or is reading something he won't give up his seat either.  So, without revealing his name or nationality, I quoted him word for word in my next post.  He promptly ended our friendship. Good riddance.  I imagine that now, at forty-something, he might be married with kids of his own, or divorced, given it might take a very special kind of woman, or a very stupid one, to live with his sense of entitlement. The bus went past a very attractive looking café on W 16th ave, called Sweet Obsessions. I noticed a dog seated next to his owner on one of the comfy looking loveseats outside on the sidewalk, and right away I saw a red flag.  Dogs do not belong on furniture.  If they are permitted, they will assume to be equal to their humans and will become all the more difficult to train and discipline.  Science backs me up on this one.  Besides which, should the patron using that same loveseat once human and doggy have left, have an allergy to pet fur and dander this could be particularly problematic. I like dogs by the way, and find some of them quite adorable despite such disgusting habits as sniffing bums and crotches and eating poo.  I actually prefer cats.  But I also enjoy petting and making friends with nice doggies, and often will greet strangers on the way with, happy Monday, and your doggy too.  What annoys me is the narcissistic entitlement of some dog owners.  And I sometimes wonder if the ongoing madness about dogs in our culture is also a symptom of an ethically bankrupt narcissistic society totally corrupted by capitalism greed and selfish individualism. Likewise the fad that does not know when to die,known as sidewalk jogging.  I used to get really annoyed with joggers, like the ones hogging the narrow trails I was walking on today, for their clueless self-absorbed narcissistic behaviour.  Now I just smile if I see one coming, say beep-beep, or hi, or burn rubber, and unless they are particularly obnoxious and entitled, they almost always smile and say hi.  As if they are glad that someone has acknowledged their existence.  But that kind of isolation is one of the many bitter and poisonous fruits of narcissistic individualism and rampant capitalism. Like it or not, we are all in this together.  We really have to start addressing the spiritual and moral vacuum that has turned so many of us into such pathetic consumerist zombies.  I sense a real hunger out there.  Let's see what we can do, eh?