Optimists annoy me

I'm a pessimist. I have always been a pessimist. I'm the sort of pessimist that looks at a glass and unequivocally states "Half Empty!" and then proceeds to look for a leak on the bottom. Optimists annoy me. Pessimists are always annoyed by optimism. It's the same sort of annoyance a super model must feel when watching portly people eat whatever they want, or a liberal feels when Dick Cheney is about to open his mouth to say something. It's the annoyance of witnessing something that discredits the very core of your id; it makes you cringe.

My brother is an optimist and I've spent some time thinking about how two genetically similar people could be so opposite in this sense. The obvious and well-established answer is "perception". It boils down to a matter of a positive or negative perception of one's very existence. I wondered why, and this is what I concluded: I'm a pessimist because I perceive my memories as things I have lost, not as things that I have and carry with me always. A happy memory is not something I have and treasure, it is the shadow of what I have lost. And so all optimism is tainted by the fact that what is positive today will be lost into a memory in the future.

Becoming an optimist would be as simple as realizing that memories are treasured positions and not mournful reminders of what has been lost. I started working on that realization, but then Dick Cheney came on TV... said something... I got annoyed... anyway, I'll do it tomorrow. Oh, did I mention I'm also a procrastinator?

Cariocas love their long weekends

Today, April 21st, is a national holiday in Brazil, it celebrates a martyr by the name of Joaquim José da Silva Xavier. He is more commonly known as Tiradentes. He was a leading member of the Brazilian revolutionary movement. In 1792 he was tried, found guilty, hung, chopped to bits, head put on display - the complete martyr treatment. And for the blood he spilled we get the day off today. Tomorrow April 22 (AD 1500) marks the discovery of Brazil by Pedro Álvares Cabral - no trial, no hanging, no chopping, no head on display. No blood... no holiday! However the 23rd is a holiday in Rio de Janeiro, it's St George's day... It's not a national holiday, it's only observed in Rio. Cariocas (people from Rio) enjoy their long weekends, but before you jump to the conclusion that Cariocas are opportunistic in creating fictitious holidays just to have long weekends, I want to point out that St George's day is a perfectly valid holiday because apparently there was this dragon that didn't make in the end. And who's to say dragon blood is less holiday-worthy than martyr blood. Well, I'm sure all the cariocas are debating that very subject while lying o the beach drinking a cold beer today.

interspecies communicaiton at its best

In my house we have been commenting on how the English speaking media has not ventured pronouncing the name of the Icelandic volcano wreaking havoc in Europe. This morning we were sitting on the couch and Saskia had been banned to the armchair for excessive licking and tail wagging while we were having coffee. CNN flashed the name on the bottom of the screen and my mother made a brave attempt at reading it. She got to an F sound in the middle of the name and it disappeared from the screen. She turned to me and repeated the "FFFFT" sound as if jokingly asking if that was right. I" FFFFT" back at her as if agreeing, we both "FFFFFT" to close the subjected of the unpronounceable name. At this Saskia jumped off the chair uttered a "FFFFT" of her own by blowing air out her nose and hopped on the couch between us, wagging her tail and looking from one to the other, completely delighted that she could join in the conversation.

Debased journalism in Rio de Janeiro

Brazilian news crews in Rio this week were not satisfied by entering a disaster zone where over 50 houses have been consumed by a 700 meter landslide and sticking microphones in victims' faces. Apparently standing in front of a man who can only stammer his horror at knowing his wife, children and mother have been buried alive under thousands of tons of debris as he points to where his house used to stand, was not enough for these diligent news reporters. No sirree bob! This morning they were at a cemetery, during the funeral of a woman and her two children to interview the woman's grieving sister. With a microphone under her nose the woman was asked to describe her 5 and 11-year-old niece and nephew who lay in child sized coffins just behind her. Yes that is news coverage at its best! Not a single member of the media thought of going to the Minister, Governor or even Mayor to ask why they had allowed houses to be built on a 50 year old landfill on the side of a steep hill; or even about the measures they intend to take in securing other houses in the neighborhood; or assistance to victim families; or inspection of other precariously built houses that risk the lives of occupants. Not a single government official was interviewed on the matter, but I got to see dead bodies pulled out of rubble, so I should be happy right?