Showing posts with label eco-whatever. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eco-whatever. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

this is progress?

My bank has recently been updating some of their ATMs, and the new printouts have me somewhat peeved.

Old size: 7.9 cm (3 1/8 in.) by 11.1 cm (4 3/8 in.) = 87.69 sq. cm
New size: 6 cm (2 3/8 in.) by 15.5 cm (6 1/8 in.) = 93 sq. cm

OK, so they're wasting 6% more paper with every printout. Lovely.

You will also note that the width has been reduced by 25%. However, they did not change the template of the printout, which means the text is also reduced by 25%, and there are great blank expanses of paper at the top and bottom. To add insult to injury, they've gone from all caps to lowercase letters, making most text less than half the size it used to be - it's down to barely 1 mm high!

In an age where the aging population has finally gotten the hang of bank machines, and environmental concerns are at the forefront, my bank has chosen to swim against the current. I'd switch, except a) they'd never notice, and b) the competitors are no better, really.

(186)

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

another rant left over from last week

One of the local media outlets runs a "question of the day" survey on its website. On May 12 and 13, it ran questions dealing with the recent increase in gas prices. You can find the original (in French) here: the translation follows.

May 12, 2008

Do gas price fluctuations affect you?
68% Very much
24% A little
8% Not at all
Number of votes: 6,975

May 13, 2008

High gas prices: what are you doing to save?
11% Carpooling
18% Public transit
28% Walking
43% Nothing
Number of votes: 5,131

Those are telling numbers. They tell me we're a bunch of whiny SOBs - we love to complain about rising gas prices, but not enough to actually DO something about reducing our consumption.

I was originally going to pull that quote about loving the human race, but having issues with people, but I found this one, by Ralph Waldo Emerson, which will do nicely:

The end of the human race will be that it will eventually die of civilization.


(155)

Thursday, May 15, 2008

an inconvenient frog

I recently read something that boggled my mind. (I say that as though it was an unusual occurrence!)

Richard Martineau, a rogue journalist whose no-nonsense approach I find refreshing, posted this on his blog earlier this week. The one topic on which we consistently fail to see eye to eye: the environment. He says that most environmentalists are hysterical tree-huggers who cry wolf at every turn. He often refers to them as eco-terrorists, even the mild, mainstream ones like Al Gore et al.

To him, the equation is simple:

Comfort(Homo sapiens) > Health(Universe - Homo sapiens).

In his post, he states that stopping construction of bungalows and shopping malls is preposterous, following an article in La Presse about one of the Quebec wetlands' most rapidly declining inhabitants, the Western Chorus Frog (Pseudacris triseriata.) I can only call his approach nearsighted.

He mentions that his stance might be different if the argument was made that building these bungalows and shopping malls encourages urban sprawl and the unsustainable consumption that follows. Newsflash: the two are not mutually exclusive. He just can't seem to bear the thought of being perceived as one of the tree-huggers he consistently vilifies.

It was also said, "What's next? Worms? Bugs?" What exactly is the criteria for the worthiness of preserving wildlife, anyway? Kermit isn't cute enough? Demetan doesn't do it for you?

Please note that frogs, other than filling their ecological niche (which is indirectly useful to humans), are used as a simple indicator of the health of the ecosystem as a whole, as they tend to be among the first groups to show signs of environmental stress. So in that sense, they are a pre-alarm system - useful for humans.

Besides, I hate to break it to you, but nature is a package deal. Just because you can't immediately grasp the role/impact of a particular species does not make it useless. Let's say you lose a bolt on your car. Just because you don't know what it does doesn't mean you won't replace it, because you just don't know how often that can happen before the entire vehicle falls apart and kills you. Since we can't replace the cog/part/thingamabob once it's gone, we have to take steps to make sure it stays put and healthy. It really is that simple.

On a societal level, reducing your ecological footprint is an attempt to minimize the temporal version of the butterfly effect, because we just don't know how Mother Nature will re-establish balance once we throw it too far off. It may not include Homo sapiens at all.

How's this for an equation:

Health(Homo sapiens)/Health(Earth)=B(alance) (a dynamic constant)

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Tuesday, April 22, 2008

in honour of Earth Day

Today started off as one of the saddest Earth Days on record, as I spent over 90 minutes sitting in traffic, attempting to cover the 33.5 km (20.8 mi) that separate my home from the office of the guy who does my taxes. According to Google, it should take approximately 27 minutes. Um. Not.

I know I'm lucky to currently work very close to home. But even when I worked in Old Montreal, I used to take the train. So, I get stuck in traffic maybe three times a year, notwithstanding post-Bell Centre event parking nightmares. It never fails to amaze me that people subject themselves to such aggravation on a daily basis, twice a day. I understand that some people need their car to work; hey, hats off to you - I did it for three months, and I was miserable. And some others work in areas that just aren't properly served.

But I've seen coworkers, often the harried kind for whom there are never enough hours in a day, complain that it takes too long. On good days, they beat me by ten minutes. On bad days, their commute takes two hours to my 45 minutes. During which, I might add, I can read, sleep, daydream, look at the scenery or work on a laptop while they can only stare blankly at the bumper of the minivan before them. I'd also be curious to measure and compare our relative heart rates and stress levels. This morning, by the time I got back to the office, my empty stomach was in knots, my patience was at an end, and my voice was just a little shrill.

Is public transit perfect? Of course not. Between the occasionally smelly seatmate, the gaggle of obnoxious teenagers and the last-minute-means-standing-room-only of trains/buses, cars can beckon as a personal bubble of calm. With public transportation, you have to bend to their schedule, which flies against every convention of our I-want-it-all-and-I-want-it-now consumer society.

But to those who say that a car is the ultimate symbol of freedom, I say:

The next time you're trapped in your beige minivan, boxed in by nine other beige minivans,
(oh sorry, it's light sandstone metallic)
The next time you cut short a conversation or slink out of a meeting because your meter has run out,
(isn't beating a parking ticket thrilling?)
The next time you spend everything in your wallet and the fuel gauge needle barely moves
(yes, they are laughing at you, all the way to the bank)
The next time you're short of breath on a smoggy day,
(when the weather can only be described as yellow)
Ask yourself
Are you really free?


Sunday, in six: Patchwork patterns thrill my mind's eye.

Monday: That was not worth three hours.

Monday (alternate): Go Habs Go! Bring on the...

Tuesday: Stuck in traffic - murderous urges arise.

(473)

Friday, April 18, 2008

the joys of walking to work

At first, I thought that taking over half an hour to walk to work would be a chore, but one I chose as a means of saving money and gas (as a boycott of my ugly car, too.) Now I've come to discover neat little things every morning I walk, and at the very least, the first two thirds of the walk are a nice, quiet moment. OK, so the last third makes me wonder why I put my life on the line just to get to work, but hey...

This morning, I saw two more gaggles of geese. The second was a long trail of maybe 50 or so birds, in a single diagonal. Almost – the other line of the “V” had exactly a single goose in it past the lead bird. Then, two geese broke rank, joining the other side. The checkmark turned into an arrow as it gained on another “V” formation, then into a lightning bolt when more birds broke rank. Suddenly, they turned almost due north, and the structure whipped across the sky before breaking up (at any rate from my point of view.)

(189)

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

a little a' everything

One small eco-friendly step I have taken and of which I am proud of is my purchase of wooden cutlery from J'Ustenbois. I bought them last year at the Salon des Métiers d’Art expo. It’s one of those “If I pay for it, I’ll care for it” deals. Yes, they are more expensive than just any random set of stainless steel cutlery. BUT, I’m not tempted to put them in the dishwasher, thus losing them to the eternal cycle of utensil consumption in the workplace (do spoons disappear where you work, too?) And I always keep them in my purse, so even when I pick up food on my way to class, I save on plastic forks too. It isn’t much, really, when you consider what it saves me, but I think their greatest success is the discussion that invariably starts up when I pull them out. Yes, I really can cut through pizza with a wooden knife. Maybe their eco-friendliness lies in spreading the word. TAG! Pass it on…

---

I’ve accelerated the pace just a touch, with 6,400 words in just shy of a month. Let’s say that by the weekend, I’ll be at 7,000. Instead of the 50,000 I’ll need to be in November. So instead of ten times faster/more, I’m now at nine times faster/more. Hmm.

I just don’t have confidence in my writing, though. I keep looking at my blog and think it doesn’t have enough pictures. But dammit, it’s supposed to be a writing blog! It’s supposed to be filled with words! Go figure.

---

I really enjoyed Pierre Foglia’s article on cyberpresse this morning concerning the death of four sealers in Îles de la Madeleine. I wholeheartedly agree with him. OK, the loss of four men looking to make a living is a sad event, and not a reason to rejoice. That being said, Canada’s position on seal hunting remains pigheaded at best. Seals are NOT responsible for the collapse of cod stocks, no matter how convenient that would be. People are, particularly the Canadian government for not imposing and policing quotas until it was too late anyways. The seal industry is a public relations disaster, and an industry on life support at that. It is time to let it go.

Some people who know me will wonder why I don’t share the opinion of those who think that the loss of those four sealers is a win for the seals. In this case, I’m holding out hope that these guys come from little villages, where there are few options to make a living. As well, they were killed when the tow they were getting from the coast guard went awry and their boat toppled over. Had they been attacked and killed by seals, I would have had a good laugh and enjoyed seeing karma at work. This was a stupid and preventable accident, no more, no less.

However, I do reserve the right to laugh at every matador/bull runner/rodeo rider who gets bested by a beast. If you’re willing to play, you gotta be willing to lose. It really got my goat when Bodacious was retired, simply because he was too dangerous. Hell, he had figured out that if you buck just a certain way, riders break their faces on his back, and they get off. Problem solved. Of course, they've now retired him to stud. I guess his problem is otherwise solved now. As well, I hope his innumerable offspring have the same knack for problem-solving.

As for Hispanic bull events, they should cease to exist. No bull-fighting, no Pamplona. Not all traditions are worth keeping.

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Afternoon wisdom in the workplace:
Goodness, I need to learn to shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Sometimes, silence really is golden. You are more keenly aware of the blissfully insane things that get said when you just…shut…up.

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In six: One class until two weeks' vacation.

(681)

Monday, April 7, 2008

the original flying v

It was said recently in the paper that if the honking of returning geese didn't lift your heart as a sure sign of spring, it was because you didn't have a heart to begin with. I concur.

On the other hand, I remember a few years back, waiting on the train platform during morning rush hour and hearing a small flock of geese coming up from the lake and flying overhead...only to be the ONLY soul at the station to even look up, much less smile. I glanced around: people had their noses in newspapers, books, Blackberrys, or were fiddling with iPods...talk about feeling alone in a crowd.

Maybe the working world has lost its collective heart.

In other news, I finally reached a boiling point over gas prices over the weekend. My car’s engine is seriously @#$%?&ed and it guzzles high-octane gas, which means I topped the $1.30 mark per litre. So this morning I walked to work. By my calculations, I saved about half a litre of gas, or just over one litre if you consider Pat wanted to keep the car for errands this afternoon. It also allowed him to sleep in, and I got to enjoy listening to the birds sing on my way in. A little post-hibernation exercise doesn’t hurt, either. All in all, a good thing. Everyone I told, however, told me I was nuts. We're talking about just over 3 kilometers (or just a shade under two miles) here. It was sunny, not too cool, just perfect for a walk. But it appears that I'm insane.

Or perhaps I just remember the surprises that crop up when you slow down enough to notice them: the crimson cardinal sitting in a still bare tree, calling to the females; the robins going nuts over a small patch of grass (yes folks, I have proof, there is yet grass around these parts!); the crows rebuilding their nest with long stringy stuff...

Well, at least I'll have enjoyed it while it was there.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

it's windy again outside

...and when it's not the roof caving in, it's the tree falling that I'm afraid of. Of course, that actually HAS happened before, so I believe I am well within my rights to worry. So instead of going to bed, or concentrating on homework, I write in here. And every time the furnace starts, or a dog scratches at the floor, or the wind howls down the chimney, I jump. Anxiety issues? Who, me? At least I have the cat on my lap. If the last sound I ever hear is the cat's purr, it will be a good death. However, it means that this entry will be all over the map, but please bear with me.

According to some reports, Montreal's power consumption decreased approximately 5% on Saturday night during Earth Hour, compared to the previous Saturday night, when the weather was similar. It's a start.

I watched Raw last night; it almost made me feel guilty for not believing Ric Flair was the best thing since sliced bread. It's like looking at certain types of art - you understand, intellectually, that there is great talent behind this, but you just don't GET it, emotionally, in your gut. That sums up Ric Flair to me. He's been credited with inspiring the current generation of superstars across the board. I'm their age, more or less; why don't I remember this???

I was relieved to hear that the Undertaker came out with the MacMahons, once the show had gone off the air. Heck, Deadman beat Flair to become 10-0 in Toronto. I was in the seventh row. And I've heard Taker is quite the one to insist on showing respect for those who come before you in the business. I kept searching for him on the ramp, to no avail. But I'm glad to know that he was in fact there. I wonder if it had to do with not breaking character. I mean, the only time we ever saw Mark Callaway, and not the Undertaker, was in one photo in WWE Unscripted. The look in his eyes is completely different. Even in the special edition magazine they had concocted a few years back, it was always the Undertaker character.

It also makes me wonder whether that's why Batista was wearing shades throughout the HOF and Raw. Reminds me of one fellow in cegep; we could always tell when he'd had a fight with his girlfriend when he'd wear shades on a cloudy day.

Now that Kane is ECW champ, I'm really gonna have to start watching the show. Dammit.

Monday: Discovered two lawyers and a buddhist.

Monday, March 31, 2008

disappointing results

It's a day past Earth Hour, and photos are cropping up online. The photos of the Detroit and Toronto skylines spoke volumes and took my breath away.

Then, consider the panoramic shot of Montreal during the same period.

I thank city hall and SITQ buildings for their efforts, but overall, I can't help but be disappointed. I believe, sadly, that Josh Freed was right when he stated in the Gazette late last week (or was it this weekend?) that people are just too busy to care.

Of course, I'm not having kids, and the earth will likely still provide for the rest of my natural life, shortened as it may be by pollutants and toxins. So this won't even really affect me and mine. And I have very little faith in the long-term survival of mankind. Still, it's sad that people just don't bother.

Saturday: Learning to love self-imposed darkness.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

miscellaneous

Sometimes I wonder whether my brain has a daily quota. That's the bit I worry about when I think ahead: translating all day, freelancing at night, between homework assignments...and yet I want to NaNoWriMo. If there is such a limit, I guess I'm about to find out.

In the meantime,

Sunday: Pineapple-glaze ham, under charged. Yum.

Monday: Long weekend over. Freelance, homework, presentation.

Tuesday: Presentation over with, vanilla bean latte.

In other news, this Saturday (March 29) is Earth Hour. Hopefully, the weather will cooperate, and I'll be able to take a walk during that time. Help the earth and get some fresh air! I really hope that downtown Montreal businesses will come aboard. I want to see the cross on Mount Royal go out. I want to see Hydro Quebec pull the plug on its corporate headquarters. Heck, I want to see...darkness.

Speaking of darkness, if you ever want to experience a really interesting culinary evening, head over to O Noir restaurant, on Ste-Catherine Street West, near the Faubourg. Eating in utter obscurity is something else; never in my entire life had I smelled red wine like that, and I don't even drink wine! I vaguely remember the food, but it's really secondary to paying attention to every other sense. It's fascinating, and I highly recommend it.