People Who Were Never Born

Teri showed me a cartoon on her laptop two nights ago.

The cartoon is illustrated by Dan Lacey (signed on the left) who goes by the name Faith Mouse (faithmouse.blogspot.com).

As soon as I saw the cartoon my body stopped and a thought cycled through my mind.  I stood still, staring, for five to ten seconds as, what felt like, an entire movie played through in my head.  Its hard to explain as I can't put it into any short series of words yet, but I will give it more thought and eventually write it down--hopefully before I forget it, but it doesn't seem like an idea I can easily forget.

I don't know where the statitic comes from, and I don't know if its true.  But I find it incredibly powerful how this cartoon can bring me a hollow feeling of sorrow and sadness inside evertime I see it--even now still.

I don't now how the process works--if its done chemically through injections, physical extractions through the canal, or surgical extraction--but my more inquisitive question is what happens to the fetuses.  

I imagine like all organic human parts, they can't be simply thrown in the trash; perhaps they're burned.  Burning something is quite an effective way of completely breaking it down, afterall, but is there threat of airborne infection if the tissue is diseased?  Is it standard practice to be cautious of potential airborne diseases from burning?  If it is possible?  Do samples have to be couriered off to specific contained facilities for these sorts of things or is it done in the basement of the clinics, labs, and hospitals?  How long does a fetus survive outside its host?  A few minutes? Hours? Days? Does it die in extraction?  Transportation?  After being discarded?

Does anyone know?  Has anyone else ever asked these questions?

My second thought to inhabit my mind was phoning the Royal University Hospital and possibly asking, 

"Hi, I was wondering how you, er, do your abortions."

"Er, are you asking for personal consideration?"

"Er, no, I'm asking for a friend of mine."

I don't think it is within appropriate social etiquite to ask someone what they do with fetuses.  I haven't had any result asking female gendered friends of mine either.

Eventually, though, I want to write down this idea that's been developing in my mind.  Maybe a book, maybe a movie screenplay, maybe a list of questions.

Best Wedding Toast Ever!!!! (Amy's Song)

When was the last time you saw a public speech break out into song and dance outside of a Family Guy episode? Right, those are getting harder to come by.

But on April 28, 2007 a young couple, Amy and Brad, got married and here was the toast to the bride and groom!


Best Wedding Toast Ever!!!! (Amy's Song)



Note: It took me a while to decide which version to embed into this blog post, but decided on the one in Metacafe. I like to give credit where credit is due, and although the original post may have been on AOL video, the individual(s) responsible for getting this video online eventually added it to Metacafe where they have been paid $1472 as of today (Metacafe pays per 5 bucks per 1000 clicks or somehing like that). Its a small way to reward the people's ingeniousness of the whole ordeal to.

The world is a good place to be

This discovery commercial does a very good job of summing it.



There isn't anywhere else I'd rather be.

10 minutes, 29 seconds

I've never been much of a long distance running...more like the asthmatic trying to keep up at the back.

Something told me to go out for a run in my neighbour hood tonight. I grabbed my watch, started the chrono timer and started running with thoughts of the 12 minute/2100m from back in grade 9 and 10 (I only complete it once on my last attempt--with only 14 seconds left to spare).

Running in the cool night felt nice. Prepared for the impromptu occasion with canvas cargo shorts, keys and phone in pockets, and casual walking shoes I ran with 3 goals: 1) to run non-stop, 2) to run for 10 minutes, 3) not to have an asthma attack and prevent myself from completing my other two goals. Without a decisive plan or path, I cleared my mind and created my route with each step. I ran an estimated 1300 metres on roads, sidewalks, in zigzags in the park, and in dark alleyways (not advisable to do in shadows of nearly absolute darkness, especially if you can't see the difference between gravel/pavement/pot-hole/etc).

There's an art to be discovered for me in running. It is a weird feeling--being focused, yet not having a single thought in my mind. I ran carefree, periodically checking my wristwatch to check the elapsed time, but was entirely focused on my body's movements and reactions, my breathing and wheezing (woo for asthma). The only three thoughts to have crept in my mind were: 1) where I am running towards next, 2) how dark and unsafe it was to run in an alley where I could not see the floor, and 3) the distraction I stumbled across in the shadow of a tree on the hill in the park where two couples (I could not see until I was 4 feet away from them) seemed to be star gazing--in the shadows of trees and bushes in the park at 12:00 am.

Other than that, the 10 minutes and 29 second non-stop run felt incredible (asthma makes non-stop running difficult somedays). Of course I was wheezing and barely breathing as I walked into the door of my house, and it did take a whole 10 minutes for my asthma to settle down to a stable condition (without drugs thank you very much) as I stood drenched in dripping sweat (my sister was not impressed, but I wasn't breathing so I definitely was not going to be moving), but I never imagined running to be such an easily achievable recreation for any time (12 am?) for any duration.

Freedom, refreshment, determination, and accomplishment--all to come back to me in the morning all at once.