No, I told myself, I will never allow this forum for the exploration of all that is wonderful and compelling about the human condition to become a simple "news of the weird" kind of curio shoppe. I'd rather talk of lofty things and contemplate our infinite potential as a species.

And then we have days like this one.

Animals run amok, psychotic bagel-wielding nurses, you look at this stuff, and you wonder how we ever made it this far. Used to be, you could leave the house, grab a bit of string and head over to the agora for a discussion of geometry. Now you get to battle traffic and join a bunch of beer-soaked losers at the local Pizza Hut. Hardly a "win" in my book.

Our media reflects back to us an image of childish and violent people with short spans of attention. We've become an ugly, noisy rabble armed with legal pitchforks and we hunger to see some innocent passer-by yanked off the street. Through the miracle of downward social comparison we take solace in the knowledge that it wasn't us who got stripped naked, painted red, and sent off howling in pain and terror.

Whither the beautiful? How many ears are tuned to the music of the spheres? In an asphalt world we lie gasping on our backs, exhausted, hoping against hope for a mild electric buzz of pleasure to numb our deadened senses and suggest—if even for a moment—that a manufactured orgasm proves the banal triteness of our existence.

The solution to this, if there is one, may lie in understanding a bit more about our story. Perhaps we aren't self-contained novels, but rather more akin to chapters of an on-going narrative; we're a privileged wave of awareness that began when the first proto-savage used a stick to poke a grub out of its hole, and here at the crest of that irrepressible wave of creativity we can glimpse the inklings of a farther shore. Grab your surfboard and let's boogie.

Pure Terror

That's what the denizens of a normally tranquil part of England experienced the other day after withstanding a 48-hour rampage by Boris the Badger.

You might think a little guy like the one shown here at left couldn't do that much damage, but you'd be dead wrong. At just under 3 feet in length, a full-grown badger can move with preternatural speed, and while most are shy nocturnal creatures, this one had formerly been domesticated and had absolutely no fear of people—striking two teenagers and a couple walking their dog in a park.

For retired BBC producer Michael Fitzgerald, 67, it began when he went out to his garage to investigate the source of some odd-sounding noises. Peering through the door, he spotted the crazed badger, which instantly charged him, "sinking its fangs into his arms and legs before scuttling off into the night."

His wife, Pam, speaking as Mr Fitzgerald was due to undergo plastic surgery for his inch-deep wounds at Selly Oak Hospital in Birmingham, said that the badger had struck without warning. "It was like something out of a horror movie, he was bleeding so badly," she said.

When Shoe Clerks Go Bad

We saw an example of human behavior at its worst a couple weeks ago when the Nordstrom chain of department stores held an in-store contest. According to the rules, the Nordstrom shoe department with the best day's sales of Munro shoes would win $500 for each employee, plus $5 for each pair sold. You can imagine what happened after the clerks did the math:

Employees sold shoes to themselves and rang up sales for co-workers, family members, friends and customers knowing the shoes would be returned in a few days.

Oy Vey

This headline looked like a winning click: Nurse charged in bagel killing. Happned in Clevleland, where unlicensed nurse Wanda Kanner murdered her multiple sclerosis patient, Darlene Amberik, by feeding her a piece of a bagel and then letting her choke to death. An angel of mercy? Nope. She wanted to "carry on an affair with the patient's husband," John Amberik.

Authorities said Wanda Kanner killed Darlene Amberik in 2001 to clear the way for the relationship. Police also say John Amberik bought an engagement ring for Kanner four months before his wife died.

Playing Hardball

That's what they're doing in the Atlanta suburb of Avondale Estates. Seems that some local property owners were denied permission to make certain home rennovations because doing so would alter their neighborhood's "historic character." They decided to get even.

"Quite so," they realized. "We can't change the shape of our porch stoop. But the regulations do not say we can't paint our house lime green and cover it with purple polka dots." Which they did. Several homes are now sporting the strange purple dots, and the protest is gaining steam as owners realize that flouting the authorities feels good.

Sunday night, the spots appeared on the front of a large addition that Don Baer and Gail Burbridge are making to their ranch home. The couple says, with large smiles, that they don't know how the dots got there.

Shoot to Kill

A tough sentiment, but what else can you say about this case: Burglar to revive case against farmer. It's the usual. Man catches burglar looting his home. Man shoots and wounds burglar. Burglar sues for damages. In this case, the miscreant is Brendon Fearon, 33, who was shot in the leg while breaking into Tony Martin farmhouse in Emneth Hungate, Norfolk. Fearon says that he's owed something on the order of $20,000.

He claims that his injuries, including the leg wound, have affected his ability to enjoy sex and martial arts and that he has suffered post-traumatic stress.

Test of Evil

That would be the PSAT. Turns out that the people who run the thing, Educational Testing Service, have been embarrased by Kevin Keegan, a high school journalism teacher who spotted a flaw in one of their questions. See what you think: Is the following sentence grammatically correct or incorrect?

"Toni Morrison's genius enables her to create novels that arise from and express the injustices African Americans have endured."

So they tossed out the question and bumped everybody up a couple points. First time a challenge to the PSAT has been sustained in 20 years. For my part, I'd like to see fewer examples of multicultural hoo-hah in our standardized tests.

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