Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Last night we watched this. It was beautiful exploration of risk and reward in the mountains. Awfully 'Americentric' but past that is was good. The chromatography was stunning. Not that I have any urge to go up that high into big mountains anymore. I tried that and realized that I do not live exposure at all. Nope.
Part of my reason for bringing this disk home from the library was to examine the concept of risk and reward in the alpine. The spousal unit like his risks big. I could care less in many ways because I'm ok with him doing his thing. Hell, if that is what makes you happy, who the heck am I to say you neigh? But don't ever think about 'dragging' me along ever again. Been there, not going back. I'm done.
The other past is the general examination of risk in the workplace. The seemingly perpetual examination of safety in action that one experiences while being occupied in H&S. It permeates life.
One interview with the now deceased Doug Coombs brought forth a little gem of a phrase. "Creative Rationalization". That is always the root cause. As humans we can rationalize pretty much anything. The creative mind finds a route around the problem. In our enthusiasm to meet the objective, whether that is 'bagging the peak' or 'getting the job done' we rationalize the risk. We have already our minds on the rewards. So we have to do it. Failure? What? Not make the peak or piss the boss off? Naw man, we can't do that. We've already bragged about our success or perhaps they paycheque is already spent.
All in all, it was a worthwhile film to watch. Something unsettling about watching interviews with people who die doing what they love. Their ideas of risk and reward are not shared by me. But I suppose that is OK. Kinda must suck to be the one left behind to clean up the mess.
Death is nothing to us,
since when we are,
death has not come,
and when death has come,
we are not.
A few weeks ago we were lost. Driving around in Calgary. Took a wrong turn and were driving on some barely recognizable streets. It happens frequently. Someday I will know this city. Some day.
They we saw it. A big orange beast of a railroad snowplow. Some how like the bow of an oceangoing freighter. Or a massive pier of a tide swept bridge. Riveted. Graceful. Somehow elegant in the efficiency of its function.
We paused for a few minutes and I snapped a few photos. And then went off on our merry way. Finally we stumbled across a recognizable road and reached our original destination.
I wonder how they found out the plow was too high to pass though the Winnipeg train shed? Was it by accident? Did some clever person realize it was too high before proceeding? Kinds makes you think. Humm.
Safety. It comes third. Oh yeah, we say it's first. But reality hits us on the head and calls bullshit. Wonder how the snowplow vs train shed battle played out? I'll put my money on the plow.
Monday, June 27, 2011
This is a sad tale, but beautifully written. The world lost a handsome and intelligent man that day, all for naught. The Pat Tillman story is compelling. How did this man come to that place and to his death? Jon Krakauer again has written a spellbinding tale. From the complexity of the soul to the bureaucratic bungling of the industrial military complex.
It so strange to think of the politics behind war. We are so easily lead astray. Blinded and baffled. Bewildered and bullshitted. Just like that conversation I overheard between former commandos. The older telling the younger, 'You didn't kill anyone, the politicians did.'
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
trying to reconfigure the living room - we don't seem to use the couch much. And it's such a nice comfy couch too.
Currently there is no rug/carpet. Just the very nice hardwood floors. I'm experimenting with different colours to see how that will change the feel/flow of the room.