Cultural context?

Good post Joe. Self serving, yet...self serving. You sound pretty smart.

I assume what happened this afternoon was just a matter of cultural context? Let me set the scene for you and our hypothetical readers:

Mr. Joe approaches his food and water bowls. When he gets close, his new automatic watering bowl lets out a huge gurgle the way those big bottled water dispensers do. Joe jumps backward, ducks and stares incredulously at the offending water dish before finally panicking and running away.

Yeah, cultural context is a bitch.

Why this particular assumption?

I, (the real Mr. Joe), have been persusing the internet today due to extreme boredom. During my explorations I have found lolcats. The pictures are brilliant! The photography is good and the subject matter close to my heart. Even a few of the lines being attributed to the lolcats seem to me to be genuinly cat-like expressions. But why the assumption that cats can't spell? Is this some kind of species-ism? Something to put down cats? Or perhaps to make men feel smug and self satisfied. Really, it's totally unfounded. So far, no one has ever asked me to take a spelling test and if I were asked, I would kick ass.

The only assumption that seems safe is the assumption that I might miss some kinds of cultural context things. Comes from not being being raised in a culture derived by a bunch of souped up monkeys.

Going forward, assume that I can spell, but don't assume that I have a clue why you don't like to bat around the occasional vole.

Rebuggal

Hopefully, discerning readers can figure out that that post about bugs was Mr. Joe. Frankly, Joe's fascination with bugs is something I am happy to cultivate. I even point good looking bugs out to him. If he wants to keep the place bug free, I will happily accept that big of construtive behavior from him. The hairballs with all the legs sticking out, I could do without.

Bugs

For endless variety, fun, good looks and protien, you just can't beat bugs. Bugs are super. They dart. They hide. the poke out from under things and they scurry back under things when attacked. If you have slick floors, you can just give them a quick spin with a paw and there is no telling what way they will be going when they stop spinning!! Pretty much they seem tireless and you can spin and smack, spin and smack, spin and smack for a long time. Even if a leg or two falls off, bugs keep going.

Variety is also a big plus. From so small that you have to get your face down close to direct your super stare at them to so big that you have to think about it before a smack. From slinking around in corners quietly to buzzing around in the air like a bomber. (Exercise tip: jumping up and trying to hit them with your paws works your legs, but doing side flips and back flips while in the air works your core! And who among us could not use less sag under the shag?) And don't get me started about all those hypnotic little legs! And eyes!! And fuzzy bits!! Jeez. I could use one right now.

Of course, the big decision: When does the show end and dinner begin? Think on that. It's a decision that can really contribute to your quality of life...

I know this is confusing.

OK, I can see this is potentially confusing. I wanted to start a blog and couldn't really think of a name to use or anything that did not sound pretentious so I figured I would just use Mr. Joe's name on the blog, not really mention where the name came from, and assume the identity "Mr. Joe" while blogging. Obviously, Mr. Joe is not going to let me do that without chiming in on his own. So here I am with a blog account that is going to tag every post as being by Mr. Joe when it may or may not be by Mr. Joe the cat or myself, and actual human. I have no idea how this is going to work out, I may just ban Joe from the blog and keep the Mr. Joe name for myself. Haven't decided yet. Either way, I will try to work something out to make this less confusing. Heaven knows Mr. Joe won't make the effort.

The real Joe comments on the Transcendental

OK, the Big One is blogging under my name again and sheesh... Could he possibly get more self important? For God's sake, the guy takes a nap and suddenly he is all full of the profound. Here's something profound for you Big One: It was just a nap!! A regular stinking nap. Like the ones that I take twelve of every single day. Meditation? Deprivation? I am pretty sure that your awesome nap was due to your allowing ME on the bed for a change. Who wouldn't sleep better with a handsome and talented cat on the bedspread? I even purred!! Seems scientifically plausible that my PURRING put you in some kind of super nap. You know, like flashing lights causing seizures? Like that.

Transcendental Sleeping

I am a super crappy Buddhist. Pretty sure it would be very good for me to manage to meditate but the majority of the time, I can't. When I do try, about every tenth time I manage to turn my stinking yakking brain off. It's amazing when that happens and if I had to give it a very short description, it's as if time slows down. My mind is working slowly and my perceptions are working normally but there is not feeling of anything being rushed. For me, that's a pretty amazing place to be considering that most of the time I have a sense of impending rush. And worry. And stuff.

Today, though, I was trying to steal some sleep. I work nights, late night, all night, and my son was sick with the flu so instead of going to sleep at 8am or so, I kept my son from morning to mid-afternoon. Managed to get my son and I fed and my own developing case of the flu was progressing nicely. Mostly, we hung out on the couch and watched movies. I napped a bit during that and my son was feeling well enough, and nice enough, to allow me a bit of rest.

Finally, after dropping him off with his mother, I got to go home and get in bed. Putting aside the normal "no Mr. Joe in the bedroom" policy, I allowed the fuzzy dark lord of cats on the bed. It took a while to get to sleep and since I was so far off of my usual sleep schedule, I woke up from time to time. Here's where it got odd: usually, when I am trying to get some sleep before work, I toss and turn and look at the clock and am amazed as every time I look, it is a half hour later and soon, my time to sleep is over. This time, as I would look at the clock, after lying around relaxed and languid and being careful not to dislodge Mr. Joe, I would look at that clock and five minutes would have passed. This happened over and over and honestly, it felt as if I had dozed and napped for an eternity. Each half hour took a couple of hours. It was wonderful. And my hyperactive mind, slowed, slowed and left off it's usual fussing and buzzing.

It felt like my more successful meditation attempts but was much longer in duration.

Now the question is: Why? Why today and why in this manner? I am sure the subjective impressions of relaxtaion techniques and of meditation differ so I will not claim that what I felt was particularly transcedental or profound in any way. It would be nice to experience it more often though. So, what was at work? I was ill. Just a bit, not "want to die" ill, but not feeling wonderful. I was hungry. I was very tired from the interruptions to my schedule. I was a bit disoriented from those interruptions. Thinking about it, I can't help but think about the fact that many traditions of religion use stress and deprivation and disorientation and then enforced solitude to move people out of their everyday state. Campbell recounts cultures in which participants in rituals use special languages and journeys and deprivation to cultivate a transcendental state. Maybe I did it by accident.