The View From Down Here

Perhaps you have seen the following picture floating around out there?

Pretty funny...

But, what I really want to know is: How do I vote for Cookie Monster?

Seriously, forget Bush or Kerry, I think Cookie Monster could really turn this country around!

Don’t you love the onset of cool weather?

There are only about fifteen perfect days every year in Houston, days in which the humidity, temperature, and weather all conspire to grant a respite to the city’s beleaguered A/C units and give them some much needed time off. These days are rare, so you learn not to squander them. Saturday was such day – no day to be indoors, to be certain. So, we decided to go see the new baby elephant down at the Houston Zoo. We got there early, knowing that the magnificent blue skies overhead would draw many parents and children. The elephant, Bella is her name, is quite cute and enjoys playing with a bamboo wind chime made for her by one of her keepers.

I’ve always found the zoo to be very interesting, fun, and yet, especially as I have grown older, a little sad. It’s always sad to see animals in cages, but these days the zoo mostly has endangered, injured, or maladjusted animals that have nowhere else safe to live. Also, the habitats have improved exponentially since I was little – no longer are they small wire cages with plain dirt floors or stinky, cramped terrariums. No, the true source of my sadness does not lie in the “plight of the animals”, fancy though it may sound.

We stopped for some time at the ring-tailed lemur habitat (my favorite, and very apropos considering the avatar of this blog). The red-faced lemur (who shared the habitat) was lounging about, in easy view, under some cattails. He was playing with straw. The ring-tails were more difficult to see, resting on the far side of a log and digging in the dirt for grubs. I watched them for some time, only able to see chance movements: the flick of a tail, a glimpse of a snout for a few moments. Other people would come by, stop for a few seconds and then proclaim, “Oh, this one must be empty. Come on, let’s go.”

I wondered. Did they not, at least, see the red-faced lemur? He was slightly camouflaged in the shade of the cattails, but otherwise in plain sight. And, though the ring-tails were harder to see, it only took a few seconds to find them. That is, if you bothered to look. That’s when I realized why the zoo always makes me a little sad: people always rush, and can’t be bothered to slow down, look, feel, and understand. Not even today, relaxing at the zoo, on the most glorious day the city has seen in months.

Never mind that, I said to myself, and we watched the hidden antics of the ring-tails for quite some time. In the end, one of the lemurs emerged, waved hello, and then returned to his digging. He understands, I thought to myself, and I think maybe, just maybe, I’m beginning to understand as well.

"Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once."
Julius Caesar, Act II, Sc. 2

Have you ever been cut-off by a car bearing a little icthus symbol?

Yeah, speaks well for the rest of us, doesn’t it?

Recently, while driving through traffic, I was nearly run off the road by a beat-up jalopy bearing the bumper sticker "God is my co-pilot". Too bad, I thought to myself, I guess God can't drive, either.

Of course, this was while I was on my way to class (why else would I drive through rush-hour?), so I decided to amuse myself with a little exercise: how to sue God. Mind you, this is only an exercise.

Suppose this guy had hit me, driving me off the road, causing injury to me, and damage to my car. That's a tort if I ever saw one, but the guy was driving a jalopy, so he probably doesn't have any money. He probably doesn’t have any insurance, either. As I have learned in school, the first rule of torts is always run an asset check on your defendant before filing a claim.

So, this guy probably doesn't have any assets and there is no point in suing him to get what he doesn't have. However, there's that bumper sticker, and the co-pilot, God. As a co-pilot, one could argue that God was responsible for ensuring the proper operation of the vehicle by the driver. Hmm, so, if the driver were negligent, the co-pilot would also be negligent. Therefore, one would have a valid theory to sue God.

Well, all that's well and good, but exactly how does one sue God? Do our courts have jurisdiction over Heaven? Probably not, since it is not inside the physical borders of the USA (just look around). How could God be served with a summons? I don't think very many state troopers would be willing go to meet God just to deliver a summons - it's rather a one-way trip. Furthermore, devising a written summons they could take with them into the beyond would be – quite – hard.

These are two very big problems, but we can get around them with a little theory. First, we'll have to claim jurisdiction over Heaven by beginning a proceeding in rem against God's property here on Earth (for the uninitiated, in rem is a nice little legal fiction that allows you to take jurisdiction over an absent party by claiming jurisdiction over their property). The church down the road will do nicely. Of course, the congregation will protest and say that the church belongs to their non-profit organization, but one could defeat this by presenting the court recordings of sermons from their church referring to the building being "God's House." This phrase is in common usage, and it would be easy to scout the local churches nearby to find a preacher who uses this phrase a lot.

OK, so the jurisdiction issues are taken care of, but God must still be served with the summons (assuming he didn't notice the courts attaching his house, a.k.a. church, down the road). The best bet is probably to serve summons to all the major religious leaders as his legal representatives on Earth. Combined with a radio, newspaper, magazine, and TV public announcement campaign (i.e. "Are you God? If so, you've just been served!"), this should cover all the bases.

Most likely, God will be too busy to form an avatar and come defend himself. Besides, his two usual methods of coming to earth are very problematic. The first involves a virgin birth. This is very time consuming, and could not be accomplished in the court's reasonable time frame. His second method of coming to earth involves burning shrubbery, and wouldn’t be allowed in the courthouse since it would be against the fire code. He might send an angelic representative, but I am often told there are no lawyers in heaven, so this wouldn't happen either. Most likely, God would "call" a prophet-lawyer to represent him in the case. Of course, God might choose to not show up/send a representative at all, in which case a default judgment results.

So, you’ve hauled God into court (or his prophet-lawyer), you’ve fought out all the procedural issues above, and now the tort case must be won… Yeah, I’m still working on that part… All this takes time, you know, and I’m no miracle worker. Besides, I got you this far didn’t I?

Did anyone watch the VP debate?

Normally, I like to stay away from political discussions. However, I noticed something very curious during the VP debate…

At one point, I closed my eyes and just listened to the two of them go at it. Instantly, I was transported back to my elementary school playground.

Edwards: “My daddy can beat up your daddy!”
Cheney: “Oh no he can’t! My daddy is tough! He used to fly planes!”
Edwards: “So? My daddy has more money than your daddy!”
Cheney: “Yeah, but my daddy has a nicer car. He’ll run your daddy over and squish him flat!”
Edwards: “Oh yeah? My daddy fought a war. He has shrapnel in his arm!”
Cheney: “Yeah, but your daddy fought like a girl!”
Edwards: “Take that back!”
Cheney: “Nya Nya! Make me!”

Sigh. I kept waiting for the teacher to break it up, but then I opened my eyes…