A Dog's Purpose by W.
Bruce Cameron. ISBN: 9780765326263 (advanced reader copy).
"One day it occurred to me that the warm, squeaky, smelly things squirming around next to me were my brothers and sister. It was very disappointing." Page 13.
*Sigh.* I get this. I can't tell you when I first started to realize that having a sibling sucks all sorts of balls. Especially if that sibling is The Needy One. Actually, I was pretty needy myself, but no grease for this wheel because I wasn't as good as my brother at needling my parents for attention (of any variety). It probably would have been very beneficial for me to have had at least
some time as an only child; unfortunately my brother was born first
and he's spent the rest of his life trying to reclaim that one minute
of Total Attention from our parents (yes, we're twins). I actually strongly believe in the One Child household model. I understand that you can't help it if twins come along, or accidents happen, but the only childs (and yes that sounds weird to me too, but it is correct) I've seen seem well adjusted enough, and in some ways better adjusted than sibling-ed children.
You would think that being an only child would lead to entitlement issues and possibly difficulty in sharing (particularly space, such as a dorm room), but I think everyone has those problems. In fact, I think that is more of a generational thing than it is only versus sibling-ed children. Most of this is probably due to television, believe it or not. Look how many sitcoms there are where siblings are yelling at each other to get out of MY room. Stop stealing MY clothes, MY iPod. Holy shit, what happened to sharing, you weren't even using that iPod 10 minutes ago. As long as they don't delete any songs, burn any holes into the clothes, or muck up your room, why the fuck does it matter if they're using it?
Well, the answer to that is of course boundaries. But it's kind of a circular logic argument. We don't have any sense of communal property versus private property because there is no real distinction between the two. We're taught to share, so we assume that everyone is okay with sharing, so we get grabby with other people's things and treat them like they're our own. People might be a little more welcome to sharing if they refrained from abusing the borrowed property (you should see the things people do to REAL communal property like library books). I am always very apologetic to someone when I borrow property without asking first, and I usually only do so if I have a good idea that they would be okay with it in the first place.
All I want to say is, if you drink someone else's six pack, buy a freakin' new one. If you borrow someone's Kindle, for the love of god say thank you and keep your trap shut about the crappy library they have on it. Be grateful that there is property that someone is willing to share. But if they say no, don't get all huffy and upset about it. It's theirs and you haven't proven yourself yet, or you have and are obviously not trustworthy. Or they are completely uptight and that's between them and Benjamin Franklin* so STFU already and get over it.
*Neither a borrower not a lender be.
Hypothesis: In every book, whether novel, non-fiction, or downright fluff, there is something to enrich the lives of the reader if they are willing to dig deep enough in their own minds and think about what they are reading.
Showing posts with label w. bruce cameron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label w. bruce cameron. Show all posts
11 July 2010
10 July 2010
Day 105: A Dog's Purpose
A Dog's Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. ISBN: 9780765326263 (advanced reader copy).
First of all, let me say that I love the word purpose because it inevitably makes me think of the word porpoise, which usually makes me giggle when I exchange the first for the second. I'm sorry, I am just that immature. You know you like it.
A Dog's Porpoise (see, it's funny) involves several reincarnations of Toby/Bailey/Ellie/Buddy while he (or she depending on the incarnation) tries to figure out what his real purpose might be (Oh! It's a Huge Manatee).* I really, really like the idea of reincarnation, not just for dogs, but for everyone. I find comfort in the idea that we get to come back if we completely screwed up our lives and/or the lives of those around us the first time.
I very much believe in reincarnation. To me it's the only thing that really makes sense if you think of souls as a kind of energy. If energy is merely transmuted, doesn't it make more sense for them to be recycled into someone else instead of going up into the sky and collecting dust? Why make more souls when you have some perfectly good ones floating around here on earth already? Of course, I believe in the composting method of reincarnation, where our souls all collect together, turn into a kind of karmic sludge, and out of the sludge grows a new soul. Hmm, soil = soul, even my metaphors are puns.
I think it's a better explanation than the traditional moving up or down the ladder depending on whether you were Good or not in a previous life. It also explains why people make the same damn mistakes over and over again: if your essence starts of as sludge, how much are you really going to remember? There have been times where I swear I've had flashbacks to a previous life, things I could in no way explain: dreams, feelings, snatches of memory. I know it probably sounds crazy, but maybe the composting process isn't perfect and sometimes bits of soul are more intact than others, and that is why some people can remember past lives.
Do I take this seriously? Yes and no. It's fun to think I might have been a Spanish bull fighter in the 1700's (actually I was a drunk, syphilitic Russian living in France, at least in the latter 1700's), but I'm not going to rely on incomplete information and tell everyone I was a Spanish bull fighter... unless it's on the internet... where everyone can see. Oops.
*I know that Manatees are not actually porpoises, but it makes for a funnier joke. It's not my fault they're actually sea cows instead of sea swine.
First of all, let me say that I love the word purpose because it inevitably makes me think of the word porpoise, which usually makes me giggle when I exchange the first for the second. I'm sorry, I am just that immature. You know you like it.
A Dog's Porpoise (see, it's funny) involves several reincarnations of Toby/Bailey/Ellie/Buddy while he (or she depending on the incarnation) tries to figure out what his real purpose might be (Oh! It's a Huge Manatee).* I really, really like the idea of reincarnation, not just for dogs, but for everyone. I find comfort in the idea that we get to come back if we completely screwed up our lives and/or the lives of those around us the first time.
I very much believe in reincarnation. To me it's the only thing that really makes sense if you think of souls as a kind of energy. If energy is merely transmuted, doesn't it make more sense for them to be recycled into someone else instead of going up into the sky and collecting dust? Why make more souls when you have some perfectly good ones floating around here on earth already? Of course, I believe in the composting method of reincarnation, where our souls all collect together, turn into a kind of karmic sludge, and out of the sludge grows a new soul. Hmm, soil = soul, even my metaphors are puns.
I think it's a better explanation than the traditional moving up or down the ladder depending on whether you were Good or not in a previous life. It also explains why people make the same damn mistakes over and over again: if your essence starts of as sludge, how much are you really going to remember? There have been times where I swear I've had flashbacks to a previous life, things I could in no way explain: dreams, feelings, snatches of memory. I know it probably sounds crazy, but maybe the composting process isn't perfect and sometimes bits of soul are more intact than others, and that is why some people can remember past lives.
Do I take this seriously? Yes and no. It's fun to think I might have been a Spanish bull fighter in the 1700's (actually I was a drunk, syphilitic Russian living in France, at least in the latter 1700's), but I'm not going to rely on incomplete information and tell everyone I was a Spanish bull fighter... unless it's on the internet... where everyone can see. Oops.
*I know that Manatees are not actually porpoises, but it makes for a funnier joke. It's not my fault they're actually sea cows instead of sea swine.
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