NOTE – Rhodester is currently being held in the dungeon of a fancy resort hotel in Palm Springs California, where they have him chained to a stone wall as he laboriously plows through one training module after another to learn to be a night auditor. It was that or the soup line.

So today we have a guest poster, who happens to be a longtime blogging acquaintance of Rhodester’s. For reasons known only to him he goes by Krispy, and you’ll find his blog here.

In our own humble opinion, his blog is funny most of the time. Kind of depends on how many donuts he’s had.

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Don’t Feed The Bears

Think of this as a public service announcement. It’s something I’m posting simply because it’s a topic I care about and it’s worth taking the time to post it if even one person reads it and thinks about it or looks into it.

This is also an area where my feelings are passionate, and drift close to a mindset associated with those flaky, granola eating, tree hugging hippies. You have no idea how much that bugs me. To find myself agreeing with PETA about anything just makes me want to crawl out of my skin. Nonetheless, on this one topic, I’m in favor of…. (Oh, God, it hurts me to say this)… I’m in favor of animal rights.

There, I said it.

The topic is bears.

I have strong feelings about bears, and I don’t have any idea why. I can’t explain it. I’ve never been involved in any way with preserving or protecting bears, I’ve never spent time with bears, and I don’t believe that I was a bear in a “past life.” Nonetheless, for whatever reason, I’m pretty adamantly pro-bear, and I’m pretty strongly in favor of healthy and rational bear-human relationships.

That is to say, I don’t believe that there should be bear-human relationships. I think that the best thing that humans could do for bears is to leave them the hell alone.

With all of that in mind, please excuse me while I climb atop my soap-box and rant and rave about bears:

Point One: People shouldn’t keep bears in captivity.

Bears don’t do well in zoos. Elephants don’t either, and some people argue that no animals should be kept in zoos. I’ll leave the elephants and other animals for someone else to rail about. I’ll just stick with the bears.

Naturally, bears are roamers. They travel in search of food – that’s just the way they’re built. If you check the internet for stats you’ll find that nobody agrees exactly how far a given bear of a given type will roam in a days time, but the one thing that all sources agree on is that they roam. And they roam far further than they’re allowed in the confines of even the biggest zoo.

When bears are kept in captivity they basically go insane. They sit there in one small area, denied the ability to follow their natural instincts, and they lose their bear minds. It becomes obvious too, as they pace and sway their heads back and forth. This isn’t behavior bears display in the wild. It’s just basic psycho-bear behavior. When you look at bears in zoos, you’re looking at crazy bears. Once you know that, it takes the fun out of it.

On occasion, bears escape from zoos and, well.. you can probably figure out what happens when a crazy bear is loose, roaming the suburbs. It happened at a zoo in my town in December of 2003. It wasn’t pretty.

Zoos aren’t even the worst of it. Circus bears go crazier, and sooner. In Europe, it’s still legal in most places to keep bears in captivity and force them to perform. They typically pull their teeth to try to make them harmless and keep them tied and muzzled, except when they’re being made to “dance.” I can’t imagine why anyone would want to see this kind of thing. It really makes me sick.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those nutcases who’s ready to burn down zoos over bear rights, but I think it’s appropriate to share this information and, hopefully, help change a few minds. If more people speak out in opposition to keeping bears in captivity maybe there’ll be fewer captive bears. That’s all I’m sayin’.

Point Two: People shouldn’t feed, hunt
or otherwise mess with bears in the wild

Okay, my opposition to bear hunting is a hard sell… especially to bear hunters. The case against feeding wild bears, however, is easier to argue, especially since it’s illegal in many (if not most) places in the US.

And there are a number of good reasons why it’s illegal, too. For one thing, bears can really get grouchy. It just ain’t a good idea to attract them. For another thing, bears are far better off eating their own natural foods than eating human foods. According to the Wildlife Conservation Society’s research, bears that eat human food are a third less active and usually overweight. Human food makes bears fat and lazy. And why wouldn’t it? It makes us fat and lazy, after all. Well, anyway, I know it damn sure makes me fat and lazy.

I realize that getting people to agree with me on bear captivity and bear hunting isn’t really likely. Still, if by writing this, I can get a few people to decide that they’ll not try to feed wild bears if they ever have the opportunity, I’ll be happy. Bears have a hard enough time coexisting with us as it is. Heck, a lot of the time they can’t even get along with other bears. Bears are dangerous to people, and we’re dangerous to them, too. A lot of the time, when we cross paths, bears end up being exterminated. That’s unfortunate. Sometimes, contact with humans is fatal to bears in ways that are so sad, even the coldest heart is bound to feel a little sympathy.

While writing this I’ve realized why I have a lot of sympathy for bears – they’re big and often loud, they generally just want to be left alone, junk food makes them fat and lazy, they can be mean, and they don’t get along with anybody.

No, I wasn’t a bear in a “previous life,” but maybe I’m a bear in this one.

We have borrowed RhodesTer for the weekend – again – to complete a series of tests that we implemented the first time around. We are QUITE fascinated with his brain, and therefore we’re trying to extract particular DNA strands for the purpose of behavioral modification in our domesticated house pets.

Just before he went under and we inserted the probes, RhodesTer requested that we contact JOELY BLACK, the author of THE AMNAR SERIES to have her fill in. We were hesitant at first, until RhodesTer informed us that she goes by the moniker “The Charm Quark” on Twitter. There’s just something about a human who has a quark in their name, so we forged ahead – the title of this guest posting is, “The Tony Soprano of Amazon”.

We don’t get it.. who’s Tony Soprano?

ZORQ, the Magnificate of Zenus 12-46.t3

The other day I got my very first death threat.

I called a friend, ostensibly to ask what I should do about it, and he asked what it was all about. So I had to explain.

“Well, you see,” I said, “I tried to buy Painter X on Amazon, only I bought it from one of the marketplace sellers for £20 and it turns out this is a bad idea because what they do is they send you a re-writable DVD with a copy of Painter X which isn’t for Mac that they downloaded from Pirate Bay for nothing but they made me pay £20 for it. Plus postage and packing.”

“You’re talking in run-on sentences,” he remarked. “Did you contact Amazon about it?”

“I did, but Amazon said I had to talk to the seller first, and give them three days to reply,” I explained. I’d given them time, and they came back and offered me a bunch of other software, which pretty much exactly matched what was currently available for Mac at Pirate Bay. “They weren’t very good at writing English in their emails,” I added.

“It’s a shame it wasn’t about Amnar,” my friend pointed out. We commiserated over the fact that my fiction had not yet caused a storm of angry people to burn my books for a bit, and then I explained about the death threat proper.

After receiving the email back with a selection of software from Pirate Bay that they could download for me (saving me the bother, I suppose), I replied asking for a refund. I thought this was fair enough. If they’d said in their product description that it was “just the disc” I’d have stayed well clear, but they just said it was new and that it would be available in 24 hours. Obviously, I didn’t expect them to write “This product has been illegally downloaded from the internet for the cost of exactly £0 but we’re going to charge you £20 because we figure that’s what our lives are worth if we get arrested for it. Which we won’t because there’s almost no way anybody can catch us doing this anyway.”

The next day I received an email back, in rather broken English, telling me that they had been more than reasonable and would “punish anybody who stood in the way of their business.” They had mouths to feed, apparently, and families dependent on the income.

I decided to call Amazon rather than email the seller again, because obviously I was wasting my time. Amazon very politely said that they would refund me the money immediately and deal with the matter themselves. I sent them copies of the emails. A couple of days later, I received an email from the seller, or the seller pretending to be somebody else:

“You have to excuse my pal Al, he couldn’t talk and type so good, we could have grabbed your balls by now

We have given you all the reasons, but you don’t seems to appreciate it, which makes me very sad and angry

Although I have got the ok from my capo, I wanna make sure that you are the right asshole we are going to pinch

Our proposition is plain and simple, we need the money to eat, you can go crying to your moms or the cops, as long as we keep the dough, there’s no problem

Otherwise the contract will be carried out, and you will a very nice early Christmas

*If we don’t see the claim being removed within the next 24 hours, the contract will be carried out, and you will face all the consequences

This conversation is now final

Kindest regards,”

I called a friend and asked how much it would cost to have me killed. “About £100,” he said. “Life is cheap. Also, they don’t understand basic gang slang.”

Let me remind you, this was over £20. And postage and packing. £3.95. So my life was in the running for about £23.95. At least, however, he managed to be polite at the end.

At this point, I was actually slightly annoyed. I wanted to email them back and point out that they would be losing £80 they clearly desperately needed if they attempted to have me killed, and that anyway, I’d already discussed it on the podcast and with Amazon so everybody would know exactly where to look if I did show up dead. Furthermore, I wanted to say, I have so many more important things to be scared about than you. Please go away. P.S. I have a battle-ready sword and know how to use it.

My favourite part was the ‘kindest regards’ at the end. “We’re going to kill you, love and kisses.”

As you can tell, I managed to survive Christmas and nothing happened. At least, not yet. I thought that was pretty much the end of the whole affair. I was refunded my money, and life went on as normal. Nobody attempted to kill me. I didn’t wake up one morning in the middle of a movie directed by Guy Ritchie starring a babbling Brad Pitt and Jason Statham’s accent.

About a month later, Amazon emailed me about the transaction. “Dear Amazon User, We hope you are satisfied with your recent transaction with X. Please leave feedback on their seller page to let them know what you thought!”

I was astounded. What does one say in feedback to a death threat?

“Highly disappointed. Seller failed to deliver on threat and I am still alive. Was not offered refund. Recommend you do not deal with seller again as their threats are highly disappointing in both style and content.”

We have borrowed RhodesTer for the evening.. again.. to complete a series of tests that we implemented the first time around.  We are QUITE fascinated with his brain, and therefore we’re trying to extract particular DNA strands for the purpose of behavioral modification in our domesticated house pets.

Just before he went under and we inserted the probes, RhodesTer requested that we contact JAMES at MEN WITH PENS to have him fill in.  We did so, and the title of this guest posting is, “How to know that you’re human.”  We assume James is not talking to us.

ZORQ, the Magnificate of Zenus 12-46.t3

When I was asked for a guest post for the illustrious blog of The Rhodester himself, I was both thrilled and worried. I mean, really. What sort of people read this blog?

“Oh, come now,” I could almost hear him snort. “You must have something in the archives.”

Well, no, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy.

That was a problem. My pants weren’t flying tonight. And since the Stanley Cup has already been written about, I had the feeling that finding the right subject to write on would be a challenge.

That’s a rather frequent problem for guest posters. While we who do it on a regular basis seem to pull great topics from our sleeves as smoothly as if they were aces, the truth is that when you’re put on the spot, you freeze – no matter who you are.

I suppose that’s why celebrity bloggers can allow themselves the luxury of appearing to be too busy to do guest posting, but that’s a story for another day.

What I believe, though, is that when someone asks for a guest post – with good, solid valid reason that I feel is worthy of my attention and time – then I should be gracious enough to accept. And I do, willingly.

You see, I haven’t forgotten where I came from and what it took for me to get here.

I haven’t forgotten that while big blogs may be quite auspicious and rake in good cash for their owners, the meek shall inherit the earth. That’s what Sting said, and he was a man of wise words.

I think.

The point of the matter (made somewhat vague by a glass of good Italian wine) is that whether I might be a celibriblogger of auspicious heights (raking in very little cash from my blog) is irrelevant. I am human first and friend foremost.

So when the call came, I answered…

…and then I majestically fumbled for a brilliant topic to write about, thus showing that I’m just as human as anyone else.

Cheers, everyone!

I first saw this in or about 1995, and haven’t seen it since.  It was originally published in Omni Magazine in 1991, and although I don’t usually post other people’s material, I was so glad to see this again I couldn’t resist.  I had completely forgotten about it which is a shame, it’s an awesome piece.  Please forgive me if you’ve read it a million times — but if you’ve NEVER read it, you’re in for a treat..

They’re made out of meat
by Terry Bisson

“They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“Meat. They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.”

“That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?”

“They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.”

“So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.”

“They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”

“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they’re made out of meat.”

“Maybe they’re like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage.”

“Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take long. Do you have any idea what’s the life span of meat?”

“Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.”

“Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through.”

“No brain?”

“Oh, there’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“So … what does the thinking?”

“You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat.”

“Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!”

“Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal!  Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?”

“Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat.”

“Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years.”

“Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?”

“First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual.”

“We’re supposed to talk to meat.”

“That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.’ That sort of thing.”

“They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?”

“Oh,
yes. Except they do it with meat.”

“I thought you just told me they used radio.”

“They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat.”

“Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?”

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

“Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?”

“I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say? ‘Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?”

“Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact.”

“So we just pretend there’s no one home in the Universe.”

“That’s it.”

“Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?”

“They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them.”

“A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream.”

“And we marked the entire sector unoccupied.”

“Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?”

“Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again.”

“They always come around.”

“And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone …”

the end

“They’re made out of meat” at Wikipedia