David Stevens

Posts Tagged ‘fishing’

Fish nightmare

In Uncategorized on February 11, 2018 at 2:34 pm

Easy to lament now that I never became a cryptozoologist, but they weren’t offering degree courses in pseudoscience when I left school. I love cryptozoology and forteana, but the thing I love most is enthusiasm in others. My interests dip and wane and run all over the place. I admire single minded people whose love of their special area shines. I like to stand near them, and listen to them even when I don’t understand them – it is their tone and energy I enjoy, their glow. I just don’t want to be them. I used to have a boss who described himself as an armchair mountaineer. I hadn’t heard the expression before, but I quickly worked it out. It takes a special sort of enthusiasm to be so specific an armchair anything, I think, and he had his own special glow, though perhaps once removed. Me, I’m an armchair everything, though I like to think I am more than just that.
Watching “River Monsters” on television is a guilty pleasure of mine. I tried to fish once, but the bait kept falling off the hook. I can’t see me ever doing that again, so I don’t want to be Jeremy Wade, but I love his enthusiasm*. Buying his book of the same title earlier this year, I enjoyed a little of the same frisson I used to get as a kid buying books about the Mothman and Bigfoot.
And that is quite enough about fish for a long time.

Though one can dream …

*Whereas Robson Green, not so much. Love him in Wire in the Blood and in Being Human, but not with fish. Oh well. I’m sure he is devastated.


The oceans die while the coward drinks his coffee and turns the page …

In Uncategorized on October 19, 2013 at 3:11 am

Am I the only person in the world to give up a coffee addiction after watching South Park? Watching Tweek treat his anxiety with coffee I thought, I don’t need the jitters or the upset stomach any more. Yet there I was this morning, having my second cappuccino in two days (I think my sixth cup for the year), and I could feel my nervousness rising. It was the combination of the coffee and reading this article by Greg Ray in the Sydney Morning Herald over breakfast. Ivan Macfadyen sailed across the Pacific and compared to an earlier voyage, found a silent wasteland. The fish are gone, and with them, the birds. I closed my eyes and pictured the massive factory boats, the huge industrial centres floating across the seas, destroying everything in their wake like a Fred Saberhagen Berserker or a city block sized Terminator. Out of sight, this gargantuan wasteful destruction going unchecked. I could not finish the article over breakfast, though I have now.
The work of these ships is described clearly in horrifying detail in George Monbiot’s “Feral“, where he sets out how nothing in the ocean escapes, as the machines even turn over boulders weighing tonnes on the sea floor. Day and night they work, sending us closer to the edge.
I struggle with this. I don’t want to turn a blind eye, yet I need to get through the day, and I cannot do that if I despair. How easy an excuse that becomes to turn away. Yet Monbiot, who has seen more of the world’s environmental horrors than many people, does not fall into this trap. If this was a proper article, I would give you his quote on why we should not despair, that despite the problems of this age, we have previously unavailable opportunities to act individually and collectively to change the world for the better, though we must have courage. However, I misplaced my note. But what I will give you is the final paragraph in an article he has on his website giving career advice which deserves to be repeated all over:

You know you have only one life. You know it is a precious, extraordinary, unrepeatable thing: the product of billions of years of serendipity and evolution. So why waste it by handing it over to the living dead?

Read “Feral” by George Monbiot