There is much to report from Vancouver, however, I will have to fill you in on those details once I am in Kelowna tomorrow. This morning, the Palm Pilot wouldn't start (I'm hoping it's just the battery) so I'm going to wait until I can recharge it and post the update that I've written. In short, Vancouver is a splendid cosmopolitan city, but I am ready to move on and started on the meat of my project. Today was mostly spent digging through the collection in the Vancouver Public Library - an amazing structure, modeled in tribute to the coliseum. I was pleased to find several rare texts on lake monsters.
As happy as I was for that, I was ecstatic this afternoon to find an email from Loren Coleman, a respected cryptozoologist who's written several books on lake monsters. He's interested in my project, and has volunteered to send a copy of his newest book! As you could imagine, I'm really psyched about this and can't wait to read it.
I wish I had more to tell you from my own experiences, but in the meantime, there's a plethora of lake-monster related news on the radar lately. Earlier, CNN reported a sighting on a lake between China and North Korea. Now, a BBC team has supposedly proven via sonar that no pleiosaurus could exist in Loch Ness.
CNN Debunks Loch Ness Monster?
As you probably know, this doesn't negate my project in the slightest. Some are suggesting that the BBC science team's results are merely indicative of the London envy of tourism revenue in the Scottish Highlands. Indeed, even with the issue supposedly 'debunked', the heightened awareness of the debate will probably aid my project. What I wouldn't give to be in an Inverness pub right now.
To quote a few responses to the BBC article (via Plastic.com's forum on the topic):
from shantih: I rarely find Plastique's bon mot-erators comfortable with a forbidding uncertainty about any subject. I note, for instance, that some in this thread will only address tourism revenues, which can be counted, of course, in the cold light of day. The dark things under dread (or the dread dark underthings) won't be measured at all, nor otherwise tamed by clerkwit. A monster's power is that it makes every ordinary recourse moot, which makes for sustained and inescapable uncertainty.
You feel a stab of terror that is as real as real can feel. But, before you can switch on your flashlight, whatever piqued your panic has vaporized, somehow turned itself sideways to every yardstick in your toolbox. You could even say it wasn't there. Which (ask your pounding heart) would be beside the point. Hell, that can frighten you even more! (Where did it GO?)
Here's a fresh and mostly successful take on the monster as a problem of context. For the kids, the special effects are fun, and there's an orgy scene. If you have enough scars, you ought to love the monster.
from gonzocanuck: I liked your comment. I seem to have retained a few shreds of child like wonder into adulthood. I think some people just can't see the beauty of mysteries and nature any more. My neighbour and carpool friend can't figure out why I find the wild rabbits so fascinating. Every time I see one I feel it is a gift from nature and a very special thing.
I have experienced plenty of things I can't explain, such as why I dream so vividly of places I have never been...like the house in Cranbrook where my mother grew up. Imagine my shock of recognition while digging through some of granny's old photographs.
It might be foolish, but there have been some weird coincidences. A sparrow flew into our picture window once and died. A couple of days later my dad got a phone call saying his best friend had died. Recently, a cheap Christmas clock belonging to my mother chimed. It hasn't chimed or kept proper time in years. Yet it chimed and the hands weren't even set on the hour. My mother learned a few days later that my great-aunt had been admitted to hospice care. The day that my budgie died, I felt strange all day, as if he was calling me home. I regret not going home that night and acting on my feelings — I knew precisely when he died and called home immediately.
Were these events coincidence or mystic messengers of some sort? I can't offer any explanations, I'm just left here to believe that there are stronger forces in this world that no one can comprehend or measure. You can try to explain them in scientific terms, but it only takes the wonder and enchantment out of life.
from mayorbob: For all the folks who really believe in ghosts and Nessie, all the scientific hoo-hah in the world isn't going to debunk anything. They are still going to buy into stuff like the Amityville legend or the Jersey Devil or the Bermuda Triangle or crop circles or Chariots of the Gods or whatever they would prefer to believe in. I'm thinking that stuff like those things are comforting retreats from the real life horrors of AIDS, blood diamond trading, kiddie soldiers with automatic weapons, an endless war on terrorism, people who fly 767s into high rise office buildings, young men and women who strap on explosives and blow themselves and innocent bystanders to smithereens over some arcane political philosophy. How threatening really is the notion of a largish, leftover from the Pleistocene paddling about a Scottish lake? How afraid do you really become at the thought of a wild proto-humanoid running around the Cascade Mountains or the Himalayas? How threatened in say, comparison to the possibility that someone may mug you at the ATM or mindlessly plow their SUV into you because they were paying more attention to that cell phone call?
So the people who believe in that stuff will hang on to those beliefs despite all the efforts of all the debunkers to prove otherwise. Me, I'm just glad that one fantastic, mythological concept has finally been proven to be false — the possibility of ever experiencing a budget surplus in my lifetime.
If you would like to read more responses to this, head on over to Plastic.com's posting.
I'll write more from Kelowna!
So how was ridin' tha waggon of the Mandela? It seems as if the celestial sayers of organizational sorts are in your favor, friend... tally ho!
Mandela... yes...
Well, if this disproves the string of coincidences, bordering on belief in fate, so be it. It was starting to bother me anyway.
There is no website called www.mcmandela.com
I called his number once, and he asked, "Who is this?" I told him who I was and he said "Oh, Buck!" and then I heard a scuffle of some kind and him saying "What is this the CIA?" (though seemingly not at the phone) Then the call was disconnected.
All begins with humor.
Humor, indeed.
However, the string of coincidences, I suspect, will not end with Mandela. As it is, they seem to follow you. An odor, if you will.
Saw me some pirates today... some scalleywags rest down in Davie Jones' locker for speakin too loud in the theatre.
A parting pirate song, to hum as you drift along... Fair sailing on those seas, for monsters in them beees.
... and the world is a 'round 'o...
I just sent you an e-mail. Is that ok, or would you prefer I post to your website? Actually, probably posting is too public for me...so nevermind. :)
I'm driving to Atlanta on Wed. and flying to Cape Town on Thursday. Wish me luck!
Em
ps. Quote of the Day:
"If I ever met myself in a dark alley, I'd kick my ass."
~ Noble Pendergrass
May you be the only one to kick your ass. How's that for a blessing?