There is no help for human kind.

No matter how many glimmers of hope you might find, no matter how many bright minds are found, no matter how many nobel prizes we give out, no matter what we do - Humans are doomed.

I have always held just a little bit of pessimism about Humankind's ability to survive long-term. Especially this last 200 years we have seemed to paint ourselves into a corner again and again.

It is especially hard for me to think this way because I have a child which I dearly love, and it pains me so that the world that I leave behind will be one which will not be worth passing on.

Oh sure, you may say that I am just down. You may say that I am just feeling the Holiday blues, or that I am ignoring all the good things...

the doors shattered, and the shrieking mob surged through in a blind rush for holiday bargains.

Sure, we have done some amazing things. Sure there have been wonderful people who are amazing, and sometimes we might see glimmers of hope here and there. Glimmers of hope? Or just popping sparks from a dying hearth?

Some shoppers who had seen the stampede said they were shocked. One of them, Kimberly Cribbs of Queens, said the crowd had acted like “savages.” Shoppers behaved badly even as the store was being cleared, she recalled.

“When they were saying they had to leave, that an employee got killed, people were yelling, ‘I’ve been on line since yesterday morning,’ ” Ms. Cribbs told The Associated Press. “They kept shopping.”

A man is trampled to death by a mob of 2000 trying to get a good deal at WAL-MART.
There is absolutely no help for human kind. We are doomed.

Comments

Why shooting should be banned on public lands:

I don't need to say too much. The pictures speak for themselves. These pictures were taken at ONE spot on NF-45 forest road in Mt. Hood National Forest. The road is also known as "Memaloose" or "Maymaloose" road depending on which sign and map you read. It is maybe 50 miles outside of Portland, southeast on Hwy 224 - along the Clackamas river. The country up there is some of the most beautiful scenery on the planet. The ridge lines, and the deep jagged canyon from millions of years of raging water in the Clackamas river are something wonderful to behold. Driving up this road, we passed at least 5 spots that seemed to be popular with shooters, before we turned around. The road is a steep one lane paved road, and our GPS said we went from 700ft. at the river to 3000ft. almost instantaneously. At some points there are steep 1000 foot drops on either side of the road. It is breathtaking. Until you come across the shooting sites, which make you nauseous. I ...

Stop renaming Portland streets.

Not only have they chosen one of the best Blogger themes, but the folks at cafe unknown have also put together a wonderful piece laying out much more eloquently than I would - why we should not be renaming Portland's streets , and how there are better more appropriate options. Please Please stop renaming Portland's streets. Portland has history too. And changing the names of the streets to honor those who were not really even part of Portland's history does a disservice to all of those who have made Portland their home in the last 150 some odd years. If you want to name new streets - fine. But keep the old ones. Please.

Every bit of plastic ever made still exists.

If you have ever crate trained a pet dog, you will have found that dogs will do everything within their power to not shit where they sleep. A dog will hold it until their face turns blue. Unless of course they are already blue, then they will just get a darker shade. And if you (and the dog) have had the misfortune of getting stuck a little to long, and the dog HAS had to go in their crate, the minute the poor canine makes eye contact with you - you know it. The dog will feel as though they have betrayed the universe by pooping in the crate. Well, humans are assholes. We could learn a thing or two from our dogs. We only have one earth. Only one. No "fall back" or "plan B" exists despite what you may see in the Star Trek movies or read in the Cristopher Stasheff or Orson Scott Card novels. I imagine that some day some poor wasted species - a distant relative to the Human - who has had to survive underground or in bubbles without being able to breathe ...

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