Shellfish Thoughts

Recently my brother was discussing the dwindling oyster population in the Chesapeake Bay. He rattled off some statistics that may or may not be true, but got me thinking nonetheless. If, as he said, there once were enough oysters in the Bay to cleanse the waters 4 times per day and now that number has dwindled to once a week, what the heck are we doing eating them? And the same is true of shrimp, crabs and all other bottom feeders. God forbade the Israelites from eating bottom feeders, carrion eaters and dung eaters. I began to think it wasn't just what they ate, it was the service they provided, cleaning.

The more I thought about it the more convinced I was. The fish we eat would be much cleaner, our waters much purer and thus our environment much better. So, I made a decision to stop eating all shellfish and bottom feeders. I never ate mushrooms anyway, so the dung/carrion eaters is hopefully not something I'll have to adjust. I really love Lobster, but they were supposed to perform a necessary but grotesque task, I mean for them to do it without interference from me.

Now I just have to convince everyone else and find a new way for the watermen who make their living on the oyster beds, the crabbers and shrimpers to make a good living. I have no idea. But I really think we would be better for it.

Child Molesters and the Judges that Love Them

Shasta Groene suffered at the hands of a monster while her mother, two brothers and her mother's boyfriend died, for what? So the wheels of a crooked justice could spew a monster out of jail to satisfy some weak thought process? Shasta spent a month and a half, 45 days, 6 weeks, in the hands of a despicable creature that should have still been in jail.

At some point the laws of this country have to change to protect children. I appreciate that we have to treat everyone humanely, check, got it. But what we don't have to do is allow predators to walk the streets hunting children for their sick pleasure. We would shoot a killer bear, why do we think these predators are any less dangerous because they have to "register"? Already we've seen that is an ineffective deterrent for child sex offenders. (see story on Jessica Lunsford below.) Again, why do we expect law breakers to be law abiders all of a sudden once they are convicted. Has something momentous changed? No, it never has.

I've said it before, child sex offenders should be imprisoned for life, no chance of parole ever, first offense. (It's the first time they got caught, it wasn't the first time they perpetrated.) If they killed a child during the commission of the crime, they die. Period.

Now, the Judge that let that man go so he could prey upon the Groene family should be made to pay a penalty also. He can't get off with out some kind of justice.

The Irish in Me

I'm half German, and a quarter Peruvian too, but it's that quarter Irish that I most identify with. And it's not the goofy Erin go braugh! part, or the leprechauns, it's the green soul of Ireland that calls to me. Celtic music plays across my heartstrings like nothing else, Celtic Worship most of all. The lonesome sounds of the sea, mixed with strings and pipes are nearly enough to transport me elsewhere, to another place and time. Maybe it's the pirate history of my Irish relatives, maybe it's the salt air in my lungs and the poetry that runs through my head, but I feel Irish through and through.

My Summer Love Affairs

When I lived in Colorado I ached for rain. Not that it doesn't rain there, it just rains for a couple of minutes, then it's over, have a rainbow, move on. I missed the kind of rain that goes on for days and days, when you stayed inside and read good books. I missed rumbling thunder and lightning, I missed a cool breeze on a hot day that smelled of water. I missed hurricanes and so I was very happy when God moved me back to the East Coast.

Yes, I missed hurricanes. The air running before a hurricane smells of the sea and turns the world green, telling it's tale of wind to come. Then the wind does come, and it howls like an animal, then the rain, washing everything away. Hours later the clearing comes and the world is fresh again. I can't stay inside during the storms, I have to see the sky mad with boiling fury, feel the wind lashing in anger and the rain crying itself out on this poor earth. Somehow, at least to me, the world feels more alive when hurricanes blow, like God is walking beside me when I am out there.

Now there is the pesky matter of storm damage and deaths, I do pray that people are able to find secure shelter and that the damage isn't too high. But always remembering that with out these storms the world would become hopelessly and forever polluted. It is just that we humans have built up and love our things so much that we forget that these storms have scoured the face of the earth for millennia, and like the forest fires that are currently ravaging the west, they are necessary to our very survival.

So, here I remain, one of the few that is actually excited at the prospect of a busy hurricane season.