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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2003-11-26, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 2003. PAGE 5. Other Views Oh definitely, ids a fathead’s world You know what Hollywood stars have that separates them from the rest of us? Big heads. I don’t mean big egos, though Lord knows they often have that too - I’m talking about literally big...heads. Take Vanna White, the famous letter turner on the TV show Wheel of Fortune. You know why producer Merv Griffin picked her out of a mob of hopefuls? It wasn’t her blonde hair, her winning smile or her twin ahems that landed her the job. Neither was it her dexterity at flipping large pieces of cardboard while smiling inanely. “The truth is,’’ says Griffin, “what made me choose her photo over all the others is that Vanna has a large head”. Griffin claims over-sized noggins exaggerate an actor’s features and make them look striking on camera. I don’t know if all Hollywood marquee types have big heads but I know it applies to Tommy Lee Jones. On screen, Jones has a very arresting presence; it’s hard to take your eyes off him. But I saw him coming out of a restaurant once and his head is huge! In person he looks like a pumpkin on a stick. So a big head might land you a gig in La La land - but does it indicate that there’s extra grey matter inside? Are people with basketbail-sized beans any smarter than the average bear? Actually, yes. According to a study put out by the Environmental Epidemiology Unit in Southampton. England, being born with a big How Black battled Ontario politicians Conrad Black’s first political battles were fought in Ontario and they were nastier than any between politicians. Trying to put the fear of death into everyone was the financier’s trademark. This writer was the Canadian correspondent for Black’s most prestigious newspaper. The London Daily Telegraph, for 20 years. When Black took over the paper, he scared the death out of its senior editors. He cannot be said to have taken the paper much further right, because it already was known as the Daily Torygraph. But its editors placed a standing order that every word Black said or wrote on any subject anywhere in Canada should be transmitted to them urgently. This writer also covered Canada for almost all other British national papers, but found none as obsessed with being informed of its owner’s every musing. Telegraph managers knew Black demanded things be done his way and were eager to cater to his whims. Ontario politicians thankfully were not as ready to bow and scrape. Black’s most bitter encounter with them was when Bob Rae. New Democrat opposition leader in the 1980s. charged he took money he was not entitled to from a pension fund for employees of the former Dominion Stores, which a company controlled by Black and his associates had taken over, with the approval of a provincial regulatory body. Rae called Black a symbol of bloated capitalism at its worst. Black retorted Rae was a coward, liar and “symbol of .swinish, socialist demagoguery and if he wants to sue me, tell him he doesn’t’ have to send his writ - 1’11 come around and pick it up myself.” After a lengthy court battle, the Black group’s company agreed to pay $44 million to the pension fund to settle the dispute. When the NDP seemed likely to win an Arthur Black head is a bit like winning the genetic lottery. The study found that babies with high birth weights (which, they say, invariably means babies with big heads) - developed better reading skills, superior reasoning and more reliable memories. What’s more, the benefits keep on coming, right into old age. Senior citizens with large heads consistently suffer less mental decline than pinheads like you and me. But cheer up. Just because the ubernoggins have more brainpower doesn’t mean they’re a lap ahead in the evolutionary race. Scientists at the University of Fribourg in Switzerland managed to selectively breed a group of fast­ learning fruit flies - in other words, smarter- than-your-average-fruit-fly fruit flies. They then pitted these A-student bugs against a flock of dull-average fruit flies in a contest for scarce food. The brainy bugs got fat while the dumb ones went hungry, right? Exactly wrong. The dullard flies thrived while the superflies just sat around and starved. The researchers concluded that the so- called superior fruit flies were literally too smart for their own good. They spent too much of their energy making connections among the Eric Dowd From Queen’s Park election in 1990, Black warned if it was elected, he and his investments would be on a plane out before it could be sworn in. After the NDP won. Black said Ontario would “pay dearly for its mindless submission" to the NDP and he would not invest a dime in Ontario as long as it governed. He claimed Ontario, Cuba and North Korea were the only jurisdictions in the world that officially discouraged giving their residents incentives to work hard and he looked forward to Rae being defeated and his laws being repealed. The Liberals in government had words with Black. In the dispute over the Dominion Stores' pensions Black charged recklessly its employees stole millions of dollars worth of inventory a year. Liberal labour minister Bill Wrye said there was no evidence to support this and Black had besmirched all Dominion workers and should apologize. A Black spokesman conceded grudgingly that, while some employees abused their positions, the majority carried out their duties honestly and responsibly. Black even had cross words with politicians who might be considered his friends, the Progressive Conservatives under premier William Davis, whose attorney general Roy McMurtry recommended charges of breaches of securities law should be laid against him after a firm he controlled tried unsuccessfully to take over a U.S. company. neurons in their brains, which left them less energy to forage for food. Being smart doesn’t guarantee success - for fruit flies or for humans. If being smart was all it took to flourish as a species, we’d all be wearing laurel wreathes and conversing in Ancient Greek. The world would be looking up to leaders like Plato and Aristotle. Instead we’ve got Mel Lastman and George Dubya. But if you’re feeling you got short-changed in the upper story sweepstakes, cheer up. These are only scientific studies, after all. That means that they are subject to the frailties and myopia of the boffins who set them up. Scientists are famous for failing to identify forests because of all the damn trees that get in their line of sight. Like the Russian biologist who trained a flea to jump by verbal command. “Jump!” said the scientist. The flea jumped. The scientist removed one front leg and told the flea to jump again. It did. The scientist recorded: “Upon removal of one leg, all flea organs function properly.” Next, he removed one back leg. Still, the flea could jump on command. The scientist dutifully noted: “Upon removal of second leg, all flea organs function properly”. He then removed all the flea’s legs and commanded “Jump!” Nothing happened. Whereupon the scientist recorded: “Upon removal of last leg, the flea loses its sense of hearing.” The Ontario Securities Commission, which has some independence from government, refused to go along and McMurtry later took the unusual step of saying he and his staff still believed there were grounds to warrant prosecution. Black retorted “McMurtry scrambled around for a year like an asphyxiated cockroach” trying to find grounds for charges, but failed. McMurtry is now Ontario’s chief justice and his words must be given some respect and Black must hope he does not appear before him. Not all politicians are as brave. Some of Black’s newspapers promoted his far-right views to the exclusion of others and Liberal Jim Bradley was the only MPP who protested, regularly several times a year, and some thought he was committing political suicide. But Bradley survived elections and has been made tourism minister in Dalton McGuinty’s cabinet, which suggests voters are not as susceptible to extreme views as some thought. Letters Policy The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor. Letters must be signed and should include a’ daytime telephone number for the purpose of verification only. Letters that are not signed will not be printed. Submissions may be edited for length, clarity and content, using fair comment as our guideline. The Citizen reserves the right to refuse any letter on the basis of unfair bias, prejudice or inaccurate information. As well, letters can only be printed as space allows. Please keep your letters brief and concise. Bonnie The short of it Right at home The window shade glides up, and 1 look out at another grey morning. Drizzle falls and I am, despite my temperature- controlled indoor environment, chilled. A drab November morning is a dismal welcome to a day, and I greet it with no enthusiasm. For his gentle word as I pass in the hall, I starchly impugn my morning guy to give me a reason for cheerfulness. But then, as I prepare for the day before me, there is a lightening to my mood. Minutes pass and my good humour dawns with the sun’s rising. Awake, alert I’m ready for the world as I make my way to the door. And then, a glance around me and I want nothing more than to stay inside my home. It just felt so right. The moment passed quickly, but not before a revelation insinuated itself into my thoughts, as, with a sigh, 1 turned and left. The revelation? I love my house. It was unexpected. I have over the course of more than two decades, riled at the unfinished business that is our home. What began as a labour of love, soon became more like love’s labours lost. Our boxy Italianate was definitely a fixer­ upper when we first spied it. Owned prior to us by an elderly gentleman it was at best in need of a facelift. I saw its size and the potential of wallpaper and paint. Nothing else. On the other hand, my guy, who’s never been one to settle for the least best solution, had grander plans in mind. That first winter was spent battling the mice, which had taken over in the two years the house had been uninhabited And the cold. Without insulation and with an archaic, ineffective hot water system, the house was so drafty guests left their coats on wher visiting. He finally got to the rewiring and re- pluinbing then by late the next fall a new heating system was in. As this was a wood/oil combination hubby toiled extra duty to make sure we had fuel to see us through, bringing in with it, another influx of rodents. Floors, walls and ceilings were torn up. out and down as time and money allowed. Rooms began to take shape, but with Murphy’s Law understood, things were always happening to alter that shape. Now, close to a quarter of a century later, while we continue to fight the good fight, we know we have probably lost the war. Rooms and plans that made sense back when we had a young family, will probably never be realized. And. while some rooms have yet to be completed, others are ready for a second makeover. It has been, primarily for my hubby, a time­ consuming, costly fight, which perhaps has rooted him to the property. While, 1 will admit to a certain feeling of wanderlust in recent years, a desire for change, to move on, or at least to move. Mark has been steadfast in his commitment to stay put. What this means, of course, is that I must as well. That 1 am not going anywhere, at least for quite some time, has brought mv rebellious streak to the fore. While 1 have pretended interest, painting this, adding that. 1 have viewed my home with a rather bitter eye. The dream it was supposed to be has not been realized. Underneath the illusion it will always be rough around the edges. Yet. all of that changed in a heartbeat the other day. For the first time in a long time, in that brief minute before I walked out the door. I saw more than an old house - I saw my home.