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I had a brilliant post all ready for you today. I was putting the finishing touches on it, when I meant to hit a backspace I guess, and somehow, hit something else, and the entire post disappeared. All that was left was the title. I went immediately to the drafts and reclaimed it, but apparently whatever I hit by mistake, wipes everything but the title.

I tried to recreate it, but as with most of my great satirical work, it flows naturally and is not something I can call up in memory again. It was a doozy. Just so you know and can feel properly sad for me.

This happened to me a few times on Blogger and was the reason I left that blogging format. It too had a draft saved that updates every few minutes, but when you hit the mystery key, all bets are off and it sends your hard thought material into a black hole never to be seen again. Perhaps tomorrow I can juice up and try again.

Until then, just a couple observations.

I can’t remember why, but children and beauty pageants again raised their ugly head within range of my senses and I become incensed. Am I the only one who finds this type of exploitation nothing less than child abuse?

Am I the only one who finds little girls dressed up with false eyelashes, rouged cheeks and Vegas style clothes, creepy?

Am I the only one who gets that slightly overweight housewives are trying to recapture (gain?) the glamorous life they never had and get rich off the backs of their babies, through this vicarious medium?

Am I the only one who find these kids pathetic emotional wrecks trying desperately to please increasingly insane adults they are forced to live with and obey?

Save me all the “she loves it, and the minute she doesn’t we will stop” nonsense. No kid “wants” to do this. Having seen just about enough of the “behind the scenes” drama of these events to last a lifetime–probably two episodes of now defunct child pageant shows, it is obviously not true that the kids “love it.”

They whine, they cry, they fight with other kids. They know they are being treated as pampered pets shown off for filthy lucre. End of story. Stop the abuse. Stop showing these things on TV. Stop promoting them in your town. Call protective child services.

Speaking of which, the Contrarian and I watch a fair amount of the nature shows from PBS, Discovery and NGO. Mostly they are wonderful and we are always amazed beyond words, that as long as we’ve lived, watched these shows, read, and otherwise been awake, they manage to show us species we have never seen before.

So far so good. Nothing too, can compare with the advances in photography and zooming and so forth, allowing those charged with capturing the animals on film, to do so close up and in detail. Time and again we are advised that “no one has ever witnessed this behavior in the wild before.”

Okay, as I said, so far so good. Then why pray documentarians must you assault my senses with all the killing? I know there are predators and prey. I know that the prey don’t gather their dead from the night before and lay them out in grocery store display for the hungry predators. But I can pretend can’t I?

Why do you need to show me all the gory details? My cute little Bambi like gazelle being tossed in the air and strangled by the mean old lion? I mean what is with you perverts?

I watch such shows because life is mean and often ugly and reality is a bitch. I come to your sweet nature show for a smile and warmth and the ever present baby animal cuteness. Meerkats to the rescue. Give me orangutans and silly chimps. Give me crazy leaping mountain goats, and dancing rain forest blue-footed boobies or whatever. I did not come to see mayhem, however “real” it is.

I spent most of last night’s foray into the world of amphibians with my eyes shut, and frankly I don’t get that upset about creepy things getting eaten. But following a poor water buffalo for a week as he slowly died from Komodo Dragon germs was a bit much.  I don’t watch nature shows for “reality” dammit!

And as for all the rest of you out there, who are annoying me at any given moment–well just stop. You know who you are. Just freakin’ shut your pie hole for a day okay? This wordpress screw up of my Pulitzer Prize winning satirical post now gone for all time down the black hole of Calcutta has really got me P I S S E D. So pay attention!

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