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This morning, I watched CBC news, and I have to say - what's with all the creepy advertising? I mean, why is a taxpayer owned broadcaster being supported by ads for private healthcare insurance? That sort of thing belongs on Global, not CBC. Who is the target audience, even? Aren't all the idiots who would be suckered into buying private healthcare insurance watching Global, anyway?
As a Canadian taxpayer, I have to say I resent our public broadcaster putting so little thought into who is advertising on our airwaves.
Oh - and those CHIP Reverse Mortgages that are recommended by banks? Well, I'm here to tell you that if that if they're recommended by banks, dear CBC brass - then they shouldn't be being advertised on a taxpayer owned network. They should be advertised on the network for stupid people - Global. I get it that the target audience for both private healthcare insurance and CHIP Reverse Mortgages are old people - but just because they're old people doesn't mean they're stupid. Unless they're watching Global News, of course. Then, by all means, advertise to them private healthcare insurance and CHIP Reverse Mortgages.
Finally, if it's a food *product*? It's not good for you. It's good for McCains. CBC viewers know this already, and any commercial that features a kid saying, "kids don't like fruit", as a lead-in to the *food* product being advertised, should be stripped naked and covered in strawberries and sent to the nearest daycare for a lie detection test.
I mean, really. But CBC news watching this morning followed a brief bit of CBC news watching last night and then a political opinion show featuring Avi Lewis. Hint: I'm ideologically of like mind, but I'm not a wealthy Canadian insider, so, my advice is to LET THE GUEST TALK!!!! I know it's hard when you're on the side of what's good and right, er, left and all that, but, to be born into a life without money worries is a wonderful thing. It just isn't even remotely palatable to those of us who weren't and who may have worked just as hard in life but do not stand even the remotest chance of getting a public affairs spot on our national broadcaster.
So swallow the humble pill and facilitate the spreading of information to your Joe Sixpack and Sally Housecoat viewers by SHUTTING UP!!
Not to be mean, or anything, because, like I say - we're on the same political wavelength and I appreciate that you want to spread the good news. And it's not like you're a Frum or anything like that, so...
But speaking of Frums, why is Ken Whyte the editor of anything? Or have I missed some instance when he wasn't just a wealthy ideologically driven neo-con huckster devoid of any journalistic merit whatsoever?
Really, if anybody has any info, post it here at SooeySays.
But back to Avi's show. He did a bit on China's widening economic gap between rich and poor and since the expert didn't say this, I'm going to: If you look at the timing of the gap, you'll notice that it occurs at the same time Western businessmen started doing their profiteering over there. Mid-90s. Up until then, before Western businessmen could get a foot in the door, China was moving towards a profitable economy, but there wasn't such a gap between those who were doing well and those who weren't. Now, leaving aside that all of China's wealth is happening in the absence of democracy and political reform of any kind (including human rights legislation), it strikes me as particularly heinous that the advent of Western businessmen into China's markets has made life measurably worse for China's poor.
Really, it never ceases to amaze me when we hear our leaders (the ones on the Right - and Center, really, if you ask me) speak about our values and way of life as if they deserve any credit for any of it and instead shouldn't just be slinking around the country with their heads hung in shame.
Oh - and those faulty American car tires that were imported from China? Some Canadian business thingies said, "We'll take 'em."
I dunno. Is there a jail nasty enough for such people? Not that I think we should have nasty jails, but I bet the very guys who think faulty tires from China are good enough for their fellow Canadians do.
I came in to work this morning to a cold office. Cold, cold, cold.
Now, I work in a house that is divided up into a couple of businesses - one of which is a computer company. Apparently, because of the equipment, the air conditioning must be kept on at all times.
I am freezing, however, so I've at least opened a window in my office (closing the door to the rest of the house, of course) to let out a little cold and let in a little heat of summer.
Don't believe me? This is what I'm wearing right this second from skin outward: black cotton boycut underwear and black stretch cotton bra (both are warm weather wear - the black is psychological insulation), black linen pants and a black sleeveless undershit, black & white polka dot nylon shirt, a red cashmere sweater, a white spring coat (never again, I need the black to attract the sun instead of the dirt), sandals.
The sandals are the flaw, I know that now. I need those thick wool work socks and shoes to insulate my feet. Oh - and a toque to keep all the heat from escaping out the top of my head.
As I said, I'm freezing, so to warm up, I decided to do some work-related errands - outside. I went to the Post Office - cold, a Bridgehead to order office coffee - colder, and a Loebs - so cold I had to go back to the office and retrieve my springcoat (which I normally just wear while sitting at my desk) so I could buy something to microwave for my lunch - although I'd just as soon use the oven to even out the temperature in the office a bit.
In the end, instead of going back to Loeb's, I went to a little cafe and bought a sandwich, instead. I plan to go there exclusively now, though, because it doesn't have air conditioning and I've decided to put my money where my mouth is and only patronize places that have at least some conscience in terms of the environment - and my comfort.
I noticed lots of ladies buying their lunch there, by the way - but no men in suits. Another reason to patronize the place - the prices are good, the food even better, and the owners are the friendliest, nicest people in this area - probably because they don't spend the summer couped up in a freezing office and instead run a tiny little cafe with the door kept open to the world outside, inviting it in as opposed to shutting it out.
So what's up with all these cold workplaces, eh? I mean, all Canadians are going to be on the hook - taxwise - for the carbon emissions that have made a special few super rich and I find it more than a little egregious that government buildings are being kept so cold that I needed a sweater in the time it took me (sigh - and the postal worker...) to buy a book of stamps.
I'm not kidding about this, either. It isn't a new pet peeve. ALL of my adult life I've been freezing at work - in the middle of summer. You'd think with all the news about climate change, somebody somewhere deep in the bowels of the Government of Canada (at least) would have said, "Hey, why don't we raise the bar a bit and put the airconditioning above freezing?"
I mean, really. I've spent summer after summer covering up whatever it is I walked to work in - usually a short skirt and light tee-shirt and sandals - with, well, in one government job I wore a wool plaid jacket that was supposedly left behind after a meeting by one Frank Miller - a Conservative Party of Ontario leader who went from selling used cars to politics and used the same wardrobe for both. (Note to aspiring politiians: Take a page from Stephen Harper's book and hire a personal dresser.)
Anyway, I just thought I'd toss it out there today that for the past 25 years or so I've wondered why I must freeze at work all summer for the sake of.... what, exactly? Men who WANT to wear suits in July? Computers that NEED to be kept cold?
Because, nevermind the environmental implications of all this cold in summer - *I'm* paying for *your* summer comfort and I think you should - at least - have to meet me halfway. So how about men ditch the suits in summer and wear shorts and tee-shirts and computers be programmed to deal with a little heat and humidity.
Geez Louise, eh? I mean, c'mon people. How hard is it to dress for the weather? It's not rocket science. It's not even hard. It's just adapting to what we know - air conditioning is not something we should be using when we don't have to use it. And when we do have to use it - we should use it considerately. There is no sound reason why I should be freezing at the office, having dressed for the walk to it, while Mr. Big Shot sits comfortably in his wool suit, having driven his air conditioned SUV to it.
IT'S NOT FAIR!!! I'VE EVEN GOT THE SCIENCE ON MY SIDE TO PROVE IT!!!!!!!!!!
It really is all just so much bullshit, isn't it. This blather and yak about doing something to combat climate change. I mean, really.
Because it's the summer of 2007 and I'm still freezing at the office.
I've never done this myself, so in keeping with the times, I feel more than qualified to advise others to do it and *it* is this: Imagine any prospective new partner as an ex and proceed accordingly.
But why, Sooey? Why so negative?
Ah, but is it negative to imagine your prospective new partner as an ex? Or is it, in fact, positive. Now, I wouldn't say this if I wasn't sure of myself, here. Having incredibly lucked out - in? - lovewise a few years ago, I can tell you that being with someone who would make as fine an ex as he does a current is worth its weight in gold.
GOLD - I tells ya!
Because given the odds, it is one great big hairy deal less to worry about if you know you can count on your current true love to be an ex true love, too. Just not around you. But still true. If you know what I mean.
So sure am I of this love test, that I think it should be put on all the pre-marital counselling courses - religious or otherwise. Couples should be given the test on the final day: "Turn to your partner. Look her straight in the eye. Imagine she is your ex. Is this person... still worth it? Like, for the few years you'll actually spend with her? As opposed to the rest of your life you'll have to deal with her?"
I mean, think about it. Isn't that the very thing NONE of us do when we get involved with someone else - IN SPITE OF THE STATISTICS?!
I'm all for love (although, in middle age I must say - like is even better) but I think it would save everybody a lot of time, money and grief if they did the love test first.
"Do you, take this person, even in Splitsville?"
There is an interesting story doing the media rounds these days concerning a Saskatchewan student, marijuana, and institutionalized fascism, particularly in our education system on matters of free speech.
Here is the gist of the tale, courtesy one "Mike on Crime", whom I just randomly selected from a quick google of the case:
Wawota,Saskatcheberiastan
If you don't want to take the time to read it, here in a nutshell is what happened:
Some wiseacre kid decided to do a bit of research on the effects of marijuana versus alcohol. No doubt knowing already what every adult, excepting the uptight squares of Wawota, has known since his or her first toke, he then took this newly acquired information to school to free the minds of his classmates from the tyranny of ignorance. Some goody twoshoes girl (of course) ratted him out to the principal who completely freaked out and pulled a Guantanamo on the kid's ass. So, naturally, the kid calls up the local Marijuana Party(ers) (who ya gonna call? Dope Busted) and before you can yell, "School's Out!", there's a protest, a lockdown, and the RCMP - never to be caught looking stupid - arrive, no doubt hoping to brutalize a few hippie potheads.
Instead, nothing much happened and everybody went home.
BUT, in the meantime and for good fascist measure, the kid was suspended for talking up the virtues of marijuana and was therefore unable to write his exams - which means he'll graduate from grade 10 with 60-sumpthin' instead of 80-something. Luckily, Mom's a teacher, so he'll probably catch a break on that one and get a chance to write them in the fall. (Real life lesson alert: Do not do this sort of thing if your Mom is actually a drug dealer.) Although I have no idea, really, whether that will happen or not. Anyway, it doesn't matter because, as I tell my kids over and over and over, "Nothing really does".
It's true, too. Adults are completely full of shit when they tell kids stuff is important. It almost never is. Especially school-related stuff. In fact, I bet I'd be better off - financially, socially, emotionally - if I'd never even gone to university. Maybe the kid, Kyle or Cody or Tyler (whatever his name is), will stay in China where he is now - learning Mandarin or some damn thing and teaching Engrish as a second language - and lead a free speech movement that will free the Chinese people from the bonds of Communism AND Western businessmen before their environment is completely destroyed.
I mean, surely his experiences in Wawota, Saskatchewan have taught him SOMETHING.
Personally, I'm not sure why every one of his defenders is falling all over themselves making sure everybody understands the kid was just TALKING about marijuana, not actually SMOKING it. Now, that makes me wonder. Why wasn't he smoking it? What's wrong with the kid? Is he just some kind of... agitator? Because if that's what this is all about - attention - well, young man, you can just hightail it off to China and seek attention there and see what that gets you. Maybe 50 years. That otta learn ya, ya little brat. Gettin' everybody all worked up and you're not even demanding the right to smoke dope - legally?
For shame.
Er, that would be the right to smoke dop legally when you're sixteen, by the way - the recommended age of majority according to an indepth report on the subject done by the Senate, right here in Canada, a few years ago.
Geez Louise. You know, just when you think we've come a long way, baby - shit like this happens and we're back PRE that Senate report. As if it had never happened. In fact, I wonder if that's where Kyle got his information? Certainly it is an excellent resource on the matter.
Hm... Senators of Canada? I believe there's an almost of age agitator in Wawota, Saskatchewan who needs a little backup.
Now that's a junket to which I would happily lend my tax support.
I just had a great idea after reading this article:
Colour Me A Trooper
Since even war boosterers are saying now that supporting the troops by having yellow ribbon decals on city vehicles like ambulances and fire trucks doesn't mean you're supporting the mission, necessarily, or even the New Conservative Government of Canada, I suggest the yellow decals feature in big black bold print: "I Support the Troops - ONLY! Not the Mission in Afghanistan, nor the New Conservative Government of Canada!"
I mean, that way, we all get to Support the Troops without feeling we've compromised our beliefs. This would be great for the families of soldiers who obviously want their loved ones to come home unharmed but really didn't want them to be deployed to Afghanistan because they don't approve of the mission or the New Conservative Government of Canada's handling of it.
And, you know, since Rick Hillier, blowhard spokesthingy for all things military these days, has so adeptly tied troop support and government support together by seeming like a guy who's getting ready to run for political office - using his posting to Afghanistan as a springboard - maybe there could be an appliqued bullshit footprint belonging to Rick Hillier affixed to each decal.
It's just an idea to cut down on the squabbling on the homefront about who really supports the troops and who pretty much just supports the New Conservative Government of Canada.
Yellow ribbon decals with big black bold disclaimers. I like it - I like it a lot. Maybe somebody could get on that and have out in time for the next election. THEN we'll see how much the New Conservative Government of Canada REALLY supports the troops.
While I desperately wish I could claim "Your Bullshit Footprint" as my own, I am currently trying to keep my bullshit footprint to an average size 7 (ladies), so I must confess that it was my beau-de-beau beau who came up with what I believe will be the next big anti-media catchphrase - "Your Bullshit Footprint".
I do, however, claim the assist - which came as we were listening to yet another pontificator of means impart information relating to climate change to the public from a televised pulpit. I commented that it struck me as the height, width and breadth of all the human irony in the world combined that the wealthy among us were telling the poor among us that our consuming lifestyles were the cause of global warming and that now we must all work together to reduce our carbon footprints in order to save the planet.
"Wow", I said. "I wonder how freakin' big that guy's carbon footprint is that he gets to go on tv, yet again, to deliver information that has already been delivered at least several thousand times over by now."
"Yeah", he replied. "What we need is a way to measure his bullshit footprint."
And that, Dear Reader, is how "Your Bullshit Footprint" came into parlance.
Think about it. There is so much information out there, most of it being delivered over and over and over, and by the same people, that it would be really helpful to those of us who are in our modest dwellings being bombarded by this deluge of information, if we knew, at the very least, the bullshit footprint measurement of the informer.
For instance, there's the climate change stuff - and it's mostly coming from the wealthy middle/left - but there's an awful lot of stuff coming from the wealthy middle/right, too. Today I came across an article featuring the new head of the Canadian Medical Association (and private clinic operator - in the small print) going on and on about the crisis in public healthcare and the need for private care options.
Size of bullshit footprint? Well, I'd put him somewhere up in Al Gore range, for sure. Let's say... the size of a medium African country, using small and big African countries as the relative measurements. That's because he's a wealthy fellow, with obvious self-interests even a monkey could ascertain (if given the small print), who has terrific and special access to an unquestioning media that he is using to promote himself in order to make lots more money for he and his before he exits this mortal coil.
It's really quite easy to measure the bullshit footprint of an association spokesthingy or "lobbyist" as s/he/it is sometimes called. If that person has private monied interests and is talking about public services related to those private monied interests without actually saying upfront that that's what s/he/it is doing, just remember - their bullshit footprint is the size of... well... gee... you always hear about Africa without actually seeing it - individual country sizes are hard to picture. Let me just google for a minute... okay... say... The Democratic Republic of Congo (I upsized from Ethiopia because I'm on the left and have my own, say... P.E.I.-sized bullshit footprint on account of this here very blog, Dear Reader) - which has a bullshit footprint at least as big as its name spelled out in human rights violations.
So yes. I have a blog and a forum and therefore a bullshit footprint of greater size than a similar person of similar means and no real agenda. But really, I assure you, trust me - there's not much here beyond the desire to be heard. Also, a careful reading of my blog will reveal that I have no information to deliver. Therefore, it's not tainted because it's not there. All you'll find here, Dear Reader, is opinion.
But enough about me. What about all those other purveyors of information through the mass media? What about the mass media itself? Well, in the interests of clarity, I think citizens are entitled to know the size of their bullshit footprints. For instance, again, if you are delivering information to the public as an expert of some kiind, there should be a running commentary at the bottom of the screen detailing your "conflicts of interest" (for lack of a more genteel phrase) with a resulting bullshit footprint at the end of your spot. If it's television, the bullshit footprint should be shown beside you as you stand in freeze frame with a map of Africa on the other side. The screen should then cut to a single shot of the bullshit footprint with a scale at the bottom and say... Al Gore's bullshit footprint so the relative comparison can be made - as well as Ethiopia or whatever African country (Africa being where the most easily spottable bullshit footprints can be found, these days) best correlates size-wise to your bullshit footprint. Al Gore's being The Democratic Republic of Congo.
In fact, I think there should be a news channel devoted to this endeavour with an accompanying newspaper for those of us who just can't take the televised bullsh... er... news, anymore. Have the article, then at the bottom, a bullshit footprint of the informer.
And bullshit footprints needn't be restricted to individuals. You could have the individual's bullshit footprint AND the bullshit footprint of the organization, institute, business, government, etc., that s/he/it is representing. Because sometimes we dis/trust the informer when it's really the organization, institute, business, government, etc., s/he/it is representing that we should be dis/trusting. Although, certainly, many of the savvier among us would argue that all information should be taken with a grain of salt.
I doubt, for instance, the CMA guy would believe him if he were me. Because he's a pro at disseminating information, he knows what he's doing and where he wants it to go, he knows what he wants out of delivering it to the public. Me? I tend to take what I read/hear at face value and think it means something. That's why I need someone else to provide me with that guy's bullshit footprint - maybe even the bullshit footprint of the CMA - so I can better assess the value of the information being delivered. Often, people like me might find, the information has no value whatsoever - BUT - the fact that it's beling delivered and by whom may INDEED have value.
"Your bullshit footprint" - How big it it? Inquiring minds need to know.
I visited a couple of your rightwing websites last week because every once in a while I like to read what you guys (and dolls) are saying. The entries are very interesting - if somewhat paranoid and rather misleading as to the actual news you deliver your crazy slant on - but the comments following the entries - whoa Nelly - those are some whack.
How do you guys sleep at night? Or more to the point - how do your nearest and dearest sleep at night? I mean, with you guarding the homestead, armed to the teeth out on the front porch, taking aim against... uh.... door-to-door... Lefties?
I actually had to stop reading, first the comments, then the entries - I was that afraid for the children. All our children. Everywhere. Including the unborn.
But it's tough being a rightwing ideologue these days, I guess. Your guy, Bush, is in power in the United States and your other guy, Harper, is in power here in Canada. The right has political power, media power, and corporate America runs the world, and yet - things are worse than ever - if I can believe what I read on your internet sites, anyway.
The rage of the right rages on as if it isn't all going your way. As if the facts of the matter are different than they are. As if reality is something else entirely than what it is.
It's quite something. Your complete denial of power. Really, someone should have told you sooner, I guess, but we thought you knew - we sure know it - "You won".
I mean, how good does it have to get for you rightwing ideologues before you look up from your angry posts and accept that YOU are responsible for how things are going these days. The United States has been in the grip of ideologically-driven hard-right Republicans for almost two administrations now. Canada is in the midst of a radical makeover by a Separatist Alberta Reformer turned New Conservative - as I type this entry.
YOU are the chattering classes.
Look at bourque today, check out the headlines, and tell me there isn't a clear and present bias in the media:
Dion'sWifeBuysHisUnderwear
And yet, the left, the liberal media, feminists - WE are all still your big bad bogeymen. WE are the problem, to blame, the giant wrecking ball currently knocking everything down all around the world. We stand in the way of... what exactly?
Good grief. We've been completely sidelined by rightwing ideologue choices hellbent on remaking the North America of 2007 into the North America of 100 years ago - you know, as shown by the Little House on the Prairie television series of the 1970s.
Cripes, it's not our fault gingham and crinoline come from China and India and may cause sudden death syndrome because the cotton was sprayed with Asbestoleadbenomylthiramcarbofuranide and the hoops are radioactive. WE want fair trade, regulations, inspections - RESPONSIBLE GOVERNMENT.
Dudes - catch up to the now. This is YOUR world we're in. YOU guys are in charge. If things are a mess - look in the mirror. Man, oh man. American civil rights are at the low ebb you wanted, Canada is more closely aligned with an American Republican administration than ever before, the judiciary is politicized, God is back, and, well - YOU'RE WINNING!!
You should be celebrating in the streets, not whining on internet forums about how the left is trying to redo the undoing before it's sufficiently undone.
Of course we are. That's what we do. Fight for progress. But trust me - with you guys in charge and running the show - it's a pointlessly time-consuming uphill battle that will take us years.
But I never did understand what you guys hated so much about social progress, anyway - that you would want to reverse it all. I mean, where's the downside to more rights for more people than ever before in the history of the world? It's not like more rights for others means fewer rights for you, you know. It means more rights for EVERYBODY.
Oh.
And, of course, with all that freedom comes the array of choices it entails. I know, I know - you guys never like my choices. Well, make your own choices, then. Like when you vote for for policians who want to restrict ALL our choices and take us back to a simpler time that never was except on television before it became all cluttered up with sex and violence and all manner of politically incorrect stuff you say you want but don't really - not when it's REALLY politically incorrect and goes against YOUR establishment - like the one that is currently in power.
And, of course, again - choosing is hard. Me? I like having choices. Yes indeed - I'll take a myriad of choices over no choice every single Gawddamned time.
Oops. I swore. But it doesn't matter because I don't have to pretend I believe in Gawd and that taking the mythical creature's name in vain will condemn me to a fiery eternity in hell. I can say "Fuckshitgoddamnhell" and step on sidewalk cracks and cross in front of black cats and do all manner of Bad Voodoo and not worry my pretty little head about any of it because you guys are the ones running things and if it all fucks up and goes to hell - it's your fault - not mine.
Oh.
Or is THAT what you're mad about...
I spent last week and weekend volunteering behind the scenes with my daughter's dance school. Every year end the school puts on an extravaganza that sells out for its two performances. But before that, there is a stage rehearsal and a dress rehearsal and volunteers are needed for those, too.
I am not a dance mom. I volunteer for the free tickets (and even at that I end up having to buy a few every year for last minute friends who want to see the show) and because I pretty much have to be there anyway, so I figure I may as well be part of the production as just sit and wait for it to be over. But this year, I really enjoyed being around the dance moms. There was something very refreshing about being around people who don't care about politics or anything related to politics but who care deeply about how well turned out a certain ballerina's foot is or how tight a certain jazz ensemble's pirouettes are, and so on and so forth and more of the same, etc etc.
Normally, that stuff is a total yawn for me, but this year I was really into it. Perhaps it's because my daughter is older and can do her own bun.
Yes. I said, "bun". Because while some things may change, some things very much stay the same and I can't think of anything more "the same" over our years in dance than the ballet bun. To say it was one of the happiest days of my life when she could do her own bun would not be overstating things, I don't think. I am so sadsack at bunning that once, minutes before an exam, another dance mom, noticing my daughter's lopsided bun and simply not being able to restrain herself - leapt out of her chair, "Just give me two minutes!" and redid the bun to perfection. After my daughter went in to do her exam the dance mom took me aside and said, "The bun matters, you know. They'd have marked her down with your bun." I pled guilty for my bunnery skills and she very generously forgave me with, "Bring her early next time and I'll do it again. And always invest in new tights for the exam - she'll suffer for that little run at the back."
Meanwhile, out of earshot of the dance moms, I've simply tried to dissuade my daughter from even taking the exams. Still, she insists and so far so good, although every year I threaten to write a letter complaining about the uptightness of the examiners and the very obvious bias by the Royal Academy of Dance towards rail thin ballerinas as opposed to not.
They ALWAYS score higher than their non-rail thin classmates and, call me biased, but it ain't on account of their superiour technique or talent. And I've got SEVERAL dance moms who will back me up on that one. Dance moms with perfect hour-glass figured daughters who have managed to become dance teachers IN SPITE OF year after year of "Pass" grades from ballet examiners from the Royal Academy of Dance. Brilliant performers who look like normal healthy women as opposed to anorexic anaemic waifs but who never ever get Highly Recommended on account of they clearly won't starve themselves for the honour.
But back to volunteering. The dance studio is in the suburbs and the show is downtown so every year, I get to witness first hand the divide between suburban matrons and downtown swingers (which is what the other dance moms think I am - in the early years in a pitying way but in more recent years in an envious-bordering-on-jealous one). To say that young dance parents are scared shitless about their little ones being in the heart of downtown is putting it mildly. My Gawd, you'd think there was a pervert hiding down every hallway of the Ottawa Adult Education school. It's beyond ridiculous and somewhat insulting for those of us (and I'm the only one, I admit) who live downtown in a small apartment in not the most reputable of buildings as opposed to out in the suburbs in an open concept 5-bdrm/3-bthrm house with a 2-car garage and enough lawn to feed a herd of cattle - by choice.
I mean, seriously - what do they think is going to happen to their precious wee ones between the stage, where there are dance mom volunteers to see them on and off, and the changeroom, where there are other dance moms to oversee them until mom comes to pick them up? (And pity the dad who does because - good grief - if you want to be treated like a pervert, just enroll your daughter in dance school and at recital time, instead of buying a ticket to watch the little darling perform on stage even though she can't see you and will never know the difference and you'll have wasted $16 to see your five-year-old dancing to some smutty pop tart tune like Hit Me Baby One More Time - hang around outside the changeroom waiting to pick her up right after her performance.)
Oh, and lest I forget - there are yet more dance mom volunteers to take the little ones from the changeroom to the stage and back again. So yeah - there's not even an in between stage and changeroom distance for parents to worry about. It's completely covered. Every second of that child's time downtown is covered by at least three dance mom volunteers at any given time.
How fearful are people allowed to become before the dance mom runner (that's the changeroom to stage and back again job - runner) has a right to literally slap some sense into them? I mean, c'mon - just one good, "WHACK!" followed by a sharp, "SNAP OUT OF IT, SOLDIER!" so they can see that downtown isn't Sodom and Gomorrah (although, there's probably more sex going on downtown than out in the suburbs - but we don't have lawns to maintain so there's all that extra time and energy to spend on more carnal pursuits of happiness) or a Den of Inequity (although, there's certainly a helluva lot more diversity of income, I'll tell you - including the odd homeless guy who spends the night in my building's stairwell and, this being 2007, is still sleeping there AT NOON!! the next day when *I* head out to work).
Downtown, in my opinion, is much safer than the suburbs because there are people everywhere until all hours. But I admit - I'm a people person. So, what is it about living in the suburbs (and I used to be a suburbanite, so I know what of I speak) that makes people so fearful of downtown?
Why... it's people, of course. The very thing that I would argue makes downtown safer than the suburbs is the very thing that suburbanites are so fearful of - people. Lots and lots of people. Different people, too. Different colours, different incomes, different ways of living. And that scares people who live in the suburbs because after a while, people who live in the suburbs are so used to being insulated from humanity and anybody and everybody who isn't just like them, that they become alienated from it. They are isolated from people by property and downtown, with its close quarters and teeming humanity, is an assault on their sensibilities.
Is the isolation and alienation of the suburbs such that people eventually become freaked out by their own kind and would rather surround themselves with property than humanity? Because having just dealt with a bunch of young parent suburbanites (which I once was, too) in a downtown setting, honestly - I have to say there's a reality gap between what downtown actually is and what these people are afraid it is.
And I'm not even sure it can be blamed on the media this time...
With the dance mom volunteers it's a bit different because they have teenagers who WANT to be downtown - all the time - so they view it more as a huge driving inconvenience (I mean, Gawd forbid their kids should take the bus -even though the bus is probably the safest way to travel there is - and the more people who use it, the safer it becomes) than a scary place - although, as I've said, there seems to be another reality gap in terms of bus safety and who uses the system. Me, for instance. And my three kids. And all the other normal looking humanoids I see using the bus when I use it - which can be late at night, even.
Anyway, as I say, I get an annual dance show peak at the behaviour of suburbanite parents downtown, once a year, and because I'm an adapted downtowner, I have to say - it's pretty whack. Scared, fearful, suspicious - it puts me in mind of how villagers must have felt about other villagers in the middle ages in Europe, divided by forest as they were, superstitious about what evil lurked beyond their little, known corner of the world.
I wonder why that is and why it's so encouraged? I mean, all that tract housing extending for miles and miles so people can learn over time to be afraid of other people, barricading themselves in prisons of their own making, peeking out at humanity from behind window treatments so elaborate they could clothe all the homeless of downtown. NOT that the homeless don't wear clothes downtown. They do. Honest. And there's not having sex in the streets, either. Just don't linger in my apartment stairwell if you hear more than one guy talking to himself.
You know, I never really thought of it before, but, after reading this article:
Passports?! WeDunNeedNoStinkin'Passports!
I started thinking, "How will arming everybody with passports protect the United States from terrorist attacks?"
I mean, I know we're way past shouting, "The Emperor isn't wearing any clothes!" at the current American administration, but maybe there should be some kind of ongoing counter-campaign to anti-terrorist measures that at least asks what the point is of the latest regulation/requirement. Afterall, we're supposed to be the potential victims, here.
Although it's starting to feel more like we're the potential terrorists - isn't it?
Anyway, I just thought I'd throw that one out there today. I hadn't given it any thought until five minutes ago, but now that I have I can't see that passports - particularly ones obtained under "relaxed" conditions - are going to have much of an effect on terrorism one way of the other.
"Yabbut, it says here he APPLIED for a passport. A terrorist wouldn't APPY for a passport. Everybody knows that. That's why we have this sytem."
And sure, arming everybody with passports is inconvenient and expensive and will encourage less travel and more bureaucracy, but once all is said and done, will passports counter terrorism and make the whole excercise in frustration and hoop jumping worth it?
I vote, "No." But, of course, I would say that wouldn't I. Because I don't have a passport and now I have to get one - since I realize it's only a matter of time before I'll need one to travel WITHIN Canada - maybe even to get a job or rent a car or buy a new pair of shoes.
Just because.
Last night, in between watching the Ottawa Senators lose to the Anaheim Ducks and reading "Up in the Air" by Walter Kirn, I flipped to a repeat of The Agenda - which was about something called the "Doomsday Vault".
Normally, I don't watch TV while I read, but I still held out a little hope that the Ottawa Senators would somehow, miraculously, become the better team and beat the Anaheim Ducks. No such luck last night, sadly. The better team definitely won that round.
So yeah - at least Ottawa fans can rest assured that the Senators didn't just choke, as everyone - including pretty much every Ottawa Senators' fan - is always accusing them of doing. Playing in the Stanley Cup final and losing games by one goal, winning by one goal, and finally losing by a couple of goals, being outmatched pretty much from the start - isn't choking. It's losing.
Yay! The Ottawa Senators didn't choke in the Stanley Cup Final! Yay!
Anyway, I knew they were going to lose so when I wasn't reading "Up in the Air" (and if Hollywood makes a movie called, "Up in the Air" and it's about a guy whose goal is to reach 1,000,000 air travel miles on the company dime while having to deal with all sort of intrusions on his attempt to achieve this goal before his boss returns from his golf trip and finds the guy's resignation letter on his desk and Walter Kirn isn't paid copyright - I think he should sue) I was listening to a guy who looked like Carrot Top's scientist brother talk about the "Doomsday Vault".
Seed This, Doomsdayer!
Wow. Talk about reason. I guess it's been a while because I was so overwhelmed by the sagacity of the venture, the human ingenuity of the enterprise, the noble serenity with which the project was being tackled - that I pumped my arm in the air and shouted to my viewing companion, "Dr. Fowler for Supreme Commander of the Planet!"
DrFowler, I Presume
Think about it. While the most powerful country in the world has been, well, yaddayaddablahblah, Dr. Fowler and his kind have been busily gathering support for a vault in which all of humanity's seeds can be stored so that in the event of a disaster, replanting can be done. Of course, the Norwegians are mostly behind this - who else but a Scandinavian country would be so forward thinking, so pro-active as opposed to re-active, so humanist in its outlook.
Yup. They don't call us the New World for nothing, I guess. Unless...
But what was interesting, too, was the line of questioning our own Man of the Hour got around to - and I have to admit - I got there before he did - which was the standard old "us vs them" thing about the seeds falling into the wrong hands after a catastrophic event has occurred.
I can't say Dr. Fowler looked confused, exactly, or even exasperated - just somewhat taken aback. I figure that's because, unlike political people, Dr. Fowler doesn't think in terms of good guys and bad guys. He thinks in terms of humans. Some humans will be around to replant the seeds. It doesn't matter "which" humans to Dr. Fowler because he operates in the realm of humanity versus some sort of disaster that befalls humanity, destroying its plantlife, and the subsequent need for humanity to have some way of replanting for the future.
That got me to thinking about how propagandized we are to think in terms of good guys and bad guys - by our own good guys - even though we know fully well that there is no such thing as good guys and bad guys. I mean, who is this for, this made up divide amongst humans - that some whole groups are bad and some whole groups are good? Because, not to point the finger, but we think of "our" side as good but, Geez Louise, look at all the trouble we cause everybody else compared to the trouble everybody else causes us.
Better yet - don't look. It's pretty lopsided.
And, like, no offence U.S.A., but step off, eh. If we're going to have "good" and "bad" guys, I'm going with the Scandinavians for "good" and you guys for "up for grabs". Man, oh man. I bet Dr. Fowler'd be with me, too - and he's probably an American. 'Cause at least there are some people in the world who would want the seeds to go to SOMEBODY and not just be blown up by the good guys to prevent them from getting into the hands of the bad guys.
Oh... Hey... I just got a great idea for a movie! Except instead of the Americans fighting Terrorists for control over the Doomsday Vault after defeating the Russians in a nuclear war, Americans must team up with Terrorists in order to defeat MONSANTOCORP!, a group of mutated evil-doers who have survived on a secret genetically modified stash of "Korn Koronels" and have all sorts of Xtreme powers but do not believe in either God or Allah and instead worship Cockroach - their Superbug Ruler - who is 500 pounds of conscienceless greed.
Don't tell Dr. Fowler but he's already been cut from the script. I mean, c'mon. "Science, seeds, humanity, future" - it'll never sell. Good vs bad - that's where the money is.
"Nutfuckers" is my latest expression. You can borrow it. I came up with it to describe the cast of Oceans 13. I said, "What a bunch of nutfuckers". But really, now that I've come up with it, I find it describes lots of people. Countries, even - like the G8, "What a bunch of nutfuckers". Or Terrorists, "What a bunch of nutfuckers".
Currently, many Ottawans could be using that expression to describe the Ottawa Senators, "What a bunch of nutfuckers".
Fandom - so fickle. But Ottawa Senators fans take a lot of heat for that and I'm not sure why. I was once watching a baseball game involving the Blue Jays and the Yankees and as the pitcher was leaving the field, a fan could very clearly be heard yelling, "You stink, Regetti!" That's what I heard, anyway. Man - too funny. And so New York. And the game was far from lost, too.
But yeah - the Ottawa Senators are kind of one of the heartbreaking teams we Ontarians are only too well aware of, having lived through the Toronto Maple Leafs for the past four decades of loserdom. As one of my kids put it, "The Senators can't win the Stanley Cup before the Leafs!?"
Hahahahahaha! Kids. They do say the darndest things.
I let go of any possibility of a Senator's win on Saturday night. That's as good as it's going to get - this year - for Senator's fans. Slow and steady wins the race and it won't be this year. Sorry, but you heard it here first on SooeySays. And I'm okay with that because my son had the night of his life on Saturday watching the Senators win on the big screen at City Hall. Instead of a loss (as I had feared) with the crowd silently filing off the grounds and exiting the downtown core in an orderly fashion, grimly driving back to the suburbs with nary a horn blow - there was a win with the crowd joyously spilling out on to Elgin street and staging an impromptu pedestrian parade before exiting the downtown core in an orderly fashion, happily driving back to the suburbs with celebratory horn blowing waving back at us downtowners as we headed to bed with a perfectly timed win to ease us into sleep.
Until we were awoken at 2:30 a.m. by some dumbassed retard blowing his horn as he drove up and down city streets before disappearing off on to the Queensway and back home to Kanata or some such crime against humanity 'burb.
But really, I think I got the whole professional sports thing that night. It's just tribalism - isn't it. Civilized tribalism. My territory is being represented in a contest and I want my team to beat your team because, well, at the very least, it means I live in a place where the guys who play hockey for a living in my town, can beat the guys who play hockey for a living in your town.
Not to over-analyze or anything.
And it sure feels good when your guys win, eh? I mean, not to be too PolySciGirl or anything, but I think our national hockey "thing" is pretty fascist. Most of the time, I can't stand it. It's anathema to me. Except when the Ottawa Senators are playing. Then I'm a fan and I want my team to win. NOT that I would be caught dead in a red tee-shirt. I gave up red tee-shirts when they became a symbol of support for the New Conservative Government of Canada.
And the New Conservative Government of Canada is most definitely NOT my tribe. EXCEPT, of course, when it's up against the American government or out there in the world representing my country, however embarrassingly.
Such is the nature of the beast of allegiance, I guess. Heheh - and Trudeau thought Canadians were citizens of the world. Yeah. Right. Maybe when the world is at war with aliens, DUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!
Meanwhile, back in Hockeyland - if I was in charge of headline writing? This would be the headline in today Ottawa Citizen: "HAHA! Anaheim Fails To Score on Empty Net!"
Who's there?
Why, it's your local gas distribution company door-to-door salesthugs.
Yes, indeed, good citizens of Ontario. Time to barricade yourselves behind closed doors lest one of those fly-by-night gas distributors sign you up for a lifetime of overpriced delivery service.
Didn't sign anything but showed 'em your gas bill?
Prepare to be signed up for a lifetime of overpriced gas delivery service.
Didn't sign anything and didn't even show 'em your gas bill?
Prepare to be signed up for a lifetime of overpriced gas delivery service.
Sigh. Remember before Mike Harris became Premier and he and his backroom boys (come on down Ritchie Rich Tory) broke everything up and sold off the best parts of everything to their buds and then stuck unwitting taxpayers with the big clunky leftovers their buddies didn't want?
Well, those days are over, Stupid Voters. We're in gas distribution de-regulation days now and it's a free-for-all for hucksters and shysters from all over - consumer beware. In fact, be so ware you don't even sneak a peak out the window for fear you'll sign your life savings away to the guy at the door by blinking. Because if he looks like a cross between an AWOL circus carny and a Hell's Angel on parole and he's with two other guys who look like they left their balaclavas behind in the car to scare the shit out of you harder, faster - you've got gas distribution company representatives on your property.
I know, I know. But Sooey - they can't sign you up for a service you haven't agreed to contract.
Oh. But that's where you'd be wrong, Dear Consuming Reader. They can do whatever they want. Sort of like Rogers and its billing/service practices except at least with Rogers you know you're with Rogers because you get your mailbox stuffed with its junk mail every day imploring you to buy MORE! MORE! MORE! of its shitty crappy unreliable services and products, so it can jack up the price on ever more of its shitty crappy unreliable services and product - later.
Ah... almost monopolies...
But with gas distribution companies, you're at the mercy of many factors - none of them legitimate and all of them fraudulent. Don't believe me? Pick a name of any gas distribution company, any one, and check out the registered complaints against it (and that's just complaints by people who know they've been signed up, or find out they've been signed up when their gas bill suddenly skyrockets) and you'll note one common denominator - they're all pointing out that these gas distribution companies are the business equivalent of pickpockets - albeit the type of pickpockets who track you down after they've ripped you off and charge you triple for the privilege.
Nevertheless, and in spite of all of the above, in post Mike Harris Ontario, if a gas distribution company stays in the game long enough, weathers the class action lawsuits, etc., you can end up watching feel good 50s style commericals on television featuring those same pickpockets - i.e. one "Indirect #*&%!" company. (The name has been altered to protect the writer from lawsuits. These boys have friends in high political places and play legal hardball with citizens who complain too much. Or at all, actually.)
Anyway, take a gander over any one of these complaints sites and you'll notice that people are complaining about having been switched over from their usual provider to a new provider without ever having signed anything. How can that happen? Well, apparently, they can come to your door, demand to see your gas bill (or... well... not even ask - if you know what I mean) and then call you back to offer you the opportunity to sign up for their services. Answering the phone, "Hello?" might be all they need by way of a verbal commitment. Answering the phone, "Hello?" may mean that you've agreed to sign up to receive their services. It may not. They may have signed you up already. Without having even knocked on your door, perhaps. Who knows? Maybe some gas distribution company has decided to sign you up for its services in the time it took me to write this blog entry.
No matter. What matters is that once you find out it's signed you up, it will cost you hundreds of dollars to break your contract. That's right. You will have to pay to get out of a contract you were not aware you had signed on to - mostly because you didn't.
How did all this happen? I have no idea. I just live here and pay taxes. Apparently, the Government of Ontario just lives here and does sweet fuck all.
My advice? Get the addresses of these "companies" and show up with a clipboard and when they answer the door say, "Great. You've answered the door and in so doing have just agreed to pay all my energy bills for the rest of my life."
Just be careful they don't shoot you in the back when you turn to leave.
That's how business is done in Ontario these days.
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