Thoughts on Cincinnati Gorilla Shooting

I read, on the BBC’s news site, about the shooting of Harambe, a gorilla kept at a Cincinnati zoo. Really sad stuff and you can read the article HERE.

Without a doubt, the killing of any animal in this way is a sad thing. What upsets me, though, is the lack of perspective had by animal activists. I just can’t fathom their argument.
Maybe they don’t understand the strength of a gorilla but there has to be an understanding that there was no other option. The gorilla was agitated, disorientated and, thus, unpredictable. Human life was hanging in the balance. I wonder how these animal rights activists would have reacted if their four years old son was in the same situation as the young boy in this article?

There does need to be some form of investigation into the hows and whys. For a four years old boy to find himself in a gorilla enclosure, SOMEONE wasn’t watching him. I’m tending to think that there may be a situation of negligence here. Having said that, though, four years old kids will be exactly that and I think ALL parents of children that age and older will agree, keeping a constant eye on children that age is borderline impossible at the best of times, much less when they’re are excited about being around all creatures great and small!

I have to admit, I’m starting to turn away from zoos and other animal enclosures. I’m beginning to see them as mere money-making institutions, where the animals aren’t kept as they would be in the wild, therefore, making the trip somewhat of a waste of money. I’m with animal preservation programs and I can understand the workings of safaris, etc. A collection of small buildings in large cities, though, I can’t really get with that anymore. Especially when the animals inside are not native to the region they are kept in. If you want to see a lion, use your passport. If you want to see elephants, use your passport. If you can’t afford it, read a book!


Trail Running Today!

There’s something about getting to grips with nature that makes me feel complete.
In reaching towards an Iron Man, distance is inevitable. The repetitive pounding of pavement and road for, what seems to be, an eternity is an unavoidable bridge one must cross but to run in nature… It brings out some deep, primitive feeling of elation. Lightly bouncing from loose stone to loose stone. The crack of numerous dry twigs under foot and the sound of shale loosely falling down steep gradients as the deep tread of trail shoes imposes the will of the wearer on the loose earth beneath.
This morning was pretty warm but the forested areas had a coolness in the air. The trees sheltered me as I battled steep climbs, tall grass. My will, seeking superiority through biomechanics. A spin on the term “Art vs. Science”. It took time and effort (Well spent, might I add) but the fluctuating ying and yang eventually levelled off in my favour, as I ascended over 1000ft of elevation in little over a mile and a half. 20 minutes of high intensity work. There was a sense of pride as I ran from behind the ski lift at the top of the mountain. I can definitely get used to this!

I was glad for the invite to this event and I hope it happens again soon. It’s great to be around like-minded folk, smiling and laughing, taking the inevitable selfies as we shared the workload of the gradient with each other, making it that much more bearable, until I decided to take on the remainder of the climb on my own.
The event started with the usual meet and greet of people that have been friends on Facebook for quite some time but have never met, as seems to be the norm in the Spartan Race/OCR community. It’s good to be able to put a real face to good conversation as the virtual reality of a profile picture is stripped from the mind, which is a good thing!
From the meet and greet, we stepped over to the base of the climb and went through some basic warm up drills and exercises before starting our hike up the mountain. Between 8 and 12 of us were ventilating pretty intensely from early on as we ascended the lower portion of a ski slope that, I’m sure, provides a lot more fun when descending in the proper fashion! LOL!
Those that were familiar with the trails took the lead, which was definitely a good thing. I had absolutely no clue where we were going or how to get there. All I knew was, we were about to climb, a LOT!

Eventually, we reached a point where it was time for me to climb on my own. As I jogged on, on my own, I allowed myself a little smile of excitement. I love this kind of stuff!
I spent a fair bit of the run looking out for black bears. Don’t judge me. I just don’t fancy being something’s dinner! I was looking around for trees that would form getaway points and I noticed that the struts keeping the ski lift supported had ladders. Any how 300lbs of black fur came out of from among the trees smiling, I was ready to be missing! LOL!

OK! So, I’m about to be rushed out of the coffee shop, as closing is upon us but I’ll close with this. GET OUT AND RUN! Find a trail nearby. It could be through trees, by a canal or lake. Just do it! I ache and, at one point, I could taste the lactic in my mouth but I’m STILL exhilarated. Definitely looking forward to the next time!

Racism. Fallout of a bigger issue?

I definitely need to go deeper on this subject but this is just an airing of opinion for now.

I believe racism against black people goes a whole lot deeper than the colour of skin. I believe it goes deeper than white imperialism. I believe racism is fallout of the ‘elites’ gaining control of humanity, regardless of colour.

Just like an adopted child, humanity, through various systems, is being ripped from its origins to be raised by another parent. Black people are the thorn in the side of the master plan as they are potentially the link between humanity’s origin and present day. Do away with the link to the origin and make way to create your own.

Beyond systems, I see a global structure that has been slowly built, like a game of chess, designed to keep black people locked in a box because the ‘elites’ know that, in that box, black people will do what they often do best. Kill each other and climb on each other, like crabs in a barrel, as though they’d be greeted with open arms, should they get out anyway.

Slavery continues. Only, it has translated through time. Instead of having the lead negros, overseeing their brothers and sisters while they languish in the heat, picking cotton, dishing out the lash when they see fit, we now have music artists who use their poetic talent to keep down their own kind by referring to their brothers as niggers and their sisters as anything subhuman, as though the words ‘woman’, ‘lady’, ‘queen’ were torn from their vocabulary.
When black people aren’t whipped by the music produced by their own, they’re whipped by the visual entertainment provided by their own. Constant portrayal of broken, dubious, almost made it, characters in shows like Basketball Sidechicks and ‘Going nowhere, fast’ wives of various cities around the States. I also don’t see much love in hip hop so, how the two became synonymous, on TV, I’ll never know.
In short, black people are fed destructive ‘entertainment’ and are left to fight over the crumbs of wealth that fall from master’s table and don’t black people fight each other WELL?! It saddens me.

As I type, so many things are pouring into my head. This new thought is exploding so I’m going to stop here, in anticipation of putting a more well-presented blog together.

At the root of this, I believe, is a battle that rages in the spirit realm. I think racism against black people goes way deeper than the colour of skin. It goes way deeper than genetics and the distortion of black history and, therefore, global history is a facade of a much more sinister issue.

On a whim, in my thoughts. Thanks for reading!!

BBC News: US seeks death penalty over Charleston church shooting

US seeks death penalty over Charleston church shooting –

I think it will be somewhat sad if another murder is the outcome of this incident. In this era of ‘Let him without sin cast the first stone’, it would cut against the grain of Biblical teaching to have the State take this young man’s life. Life, without chance of parole would be the fitting punishment, I feel.

Exacting the word of God is teeth-grittingly tough at times and to see someone slap the taste out of this boy’s mouth has part of me salivating with glee but, understanding every physical thing has a spiritual foundation, we have to reel it in a little and swallow that bitter pill we call Pride.

My First 5k Road Race. I’m Moving On Now!

I’m noticing some great progression, as I start down this road towards an Iron Man in 2017. Yesterday (May 23rd 2016) was my first 5k Road Race.
I’ve done Obstacle Course Races over a 5k distance and I’ve obviously carried out my training runs over the distance but yesterday was the first time that I actually lined up against other competitors who wanted to win just like I did. I was blessed enough to have won in a time of 21m 56s. Not a fast time by a long shot but it’s a foundation. A starting point of sorts and I’m now preparing for my next race on June 11th, where the goal will be to break 20 minutes.

The race was strange. I know I started off too slowly and there were spots where the route wasn’t clear and I had to slow to ask directions but that isn’t what made it strange. The ‘strangeness’ came from not knowing, at all, how to approach what I was doing. For the first half mile, leading up to me picking up the pace, I was pretty much spaced out, trailing the left shoulder of the man in front of me.
I watched his stride. Long and heavy, while I concentrated on keeping light and turning over with a decent cadence. Once we climbed the light gradient and the ground levelled off, I comfortably moved past him to see if he would respond. I could tell from his posture and heavy breathing that he wouldn’t be doing that so I allowed myself to push on a little, with the idea of simply maintaining a steady pace and a concentration on form. It definitely paid off.

We turned about, on ourselves, at the half mile point and I could see that I had a lead of about 50m or so. Not the safest but as I watched my competitors heading up to the turn, I didn’t feel threatened. Although there were one or two that I didn’t want to end up getting into a battle with so for a minute or two of downhill running, I allowed gravity to help me pick up the pace, knowing that, if they did catch me, they wouldn’t have what was needed in a sprint finish.

At the bottom of the light gradient, we cut into the trees to follow a pleasant walking path, surrounded by nature. I allowed myself to listen to my breathing, keeping it in time with my footstrikes (Roughly one breath per 4 strikes) and I took in the smell of damp wooded environment. The air was cool but in the density of the trees the humidity rose to blow it’s watery breath into my face. Here, I realized something to address for future races: my glasses started sliding down my nose.I took a quick look back, removed the glasses, used my sleeve to clear the water from my face and put my glasses back on. In hindsight, it may have been a better idea to hook them over the waistband of my shorts. In June, I’ll be looking to run without the glasses, which may become a challenge should the race become wooded.

There weren’t too many spectators but those that were there shouted words of encouragement and then I started to pass those that had opted to do the 3k walk, which was part of the same event, in memorial of a gentleman that had taken his own life, having battled with mental illness, 2 years previous.

I allowed myself a little smile as I realized I came to the finish a lot quicker than expected. I watched the photographer run from the tent as I opened my stride through the finish line. I smiled for the camera as I crossed the line but I kept in mind that this was just the beginning. There was no need for ecstatic grandeur or celebration. Neither was this the forum for egotistical moments. Humbled by the occasion, I’ll simply be happy with my win but, more so, I’ll be happy that I managed to execute my own plan for the race. To practice running with a distance runner’s cadence, as opposed to a sprinter’s power, and to retain form. Relatively upright with hips tall and feet light.

You know, mental illness and suicide are things that I strongly feel about. I love life and have been blessed with a life that I have been able to live in relative ease, in comparison.
The dark places that people reside in, around the world, that bring them to the point of ending their own life, are so real.
To not be understood, no matter how hard you try. To have people around you smile and laugh with you while you cry inside. The frustration of not being able to carry out, successfully, that basic human function, often taken for granted, communication. To have a medical term slapped on you and be pumped with drugs because the system doesn’t deem your social issues important. To be so lost that, when left alone, you only see a friend in death. Those are the individuals that overawe any achievement on my first 5k and my thoughts and prayers are with all those affected by suicide and mental illness. Prayers and the Love of God to you all.

Restrooms and stuff…

I can’t emphasize enough how sad it is, this day and age, to be arguing over what restrooms we can and can’t use. I mean, the idea is pretty simple. You have a penis? Great! Use the restroom where other people, all handling their own penis, go too. Or, do you have a vagina? There you go! Sorted! You, madam, will go where all others, gifted with vaginas, go too. I mean, where on earth did the argument come from, “I have a penis but…” and “I have a vagina but…”?! Get a grip, people!
Seriously. Where did society become so immature that there is now an argument over which restroom we are allowed to use? It smacks of children who just want all the toys, as far as I’m concerned. “I want so I should have. And do you know why? Because everyone is a winner!” This notion is beginning to turn society into an absolute mess.

My response? Well it’s pretty simple. If public restrooms are such a contention to you, DON’T USE THEM! At home you have a restroom ALL to yourself. Nobody can tell you whether you can or can’t use it and nobody can tell you what you can and can’t do in there. Problem solved.

“But that’s not good enough, sir! Social science tells me I’m a woman, trapped in a man’s body! I have rights!”

Well, this maybe true. But what makes your right more important than someone else’s? Why should your right be adhered to while someone else’s isn’t?
Social sciences also show us the existence of the sexually immoral folk that perv and prey on young children and the opposite sex. Does your right to feel warm and fuzzy inside, at the thought of acceptance, outweigh the right of a young child to have a safe environment?

“But that isn’t love! Where is the love in telling me I can’t use the ‘other’ restroom?”

Hmmmmmm… Well, this is where I get really upset. Why?

Where, my friend, is YOUR love and acceptance? Love for other people and acceptance of the perspective of situations, greater than your want to use a different restroom. Shall we head to Flint, where the water is poison and begin our protests? Or maybe we should strike up the picket lines in Alberta, Canada, where masses have been made homeless due to out of control forest fires. Maybe that’s not good enough. What about Syria and the other war-torn states around the world? Shall we go to them and plead our case? We can explain how waking up to a missile exploding in the room next door just isn’t as important as you being able to high-five someone of the opposite sex as you saunter into the restroom of your choice! Is your WANT greater than ANY of their NEEDS? I say no.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. Vladimir Lenin once said, “Give me just one generation of youth and I will transform the whole world.”
We gave the system our children and then the system stopped us from maturing any further. We don’t realize that we have become children ourselves, arguing over such pitiful things that we have become distracted from the real issues.