My Heart Goes Out to the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair

Here's a little video I created confessing my love for the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair. Happy Valentine's Day! Although the Fair finished on November 10, 2011 it has taken until now for me to recover my video files from my old computer, which unfortunately died. Now, with my refurbished mac, I was able to compile footage and pictures together with a narrative that explains how the Royal has claimed a piece of my heart.

I look forward to the 90th anniversary of the Fair coming November 2012!

Click here to view it on YouTube.com

Small Things Matter to the Human Spirit

The TV screens in the subway station update me on how occupy protesters are being evicted and arrested, about the slipping Canadian dollar and the negative global economic forecasts for the future. I think to myself: "in another week, you too will be unemployed."

I pick up the Metro paper and read about how Canada is slipping behind other countries in terms of education. Countries like India are getting ahead because the adult population takes at least one new course a year on average. How do they find time? There are pages marketing different universities and colleges as options to escape the work and make you a better employee if you can afford it, or take a course online while you keep working if you can't.

I look through the window of space between crowded bodies on the subway to notice that the girl in front of me is crying. Her earphones are on, preventing communication with the outside world. Yet her eyes, closing to squeeze out the crystals of anguish, say so much. She is such a beautiful girl -beautiful and sad. I wonder what could possibly be wrong for her. Then I think about it again. I think about the teens who commit suicide, thinking as their last thought that it's a short-term solution to a long-term problem. Then I realize the opportunities for depression are endless.

I hate it when others suffer and there's nothing you can do about it. We're all strangers. Do we just shut it out with earphones and closed eyes and go on with life, treading lightly, taking the easy way out, always anonymous? I often think of things I could do to help people but then the moment just passes me by. To think that all of those people that I never changed who will go on hurting makes me feel even more defeated. But then a light turns on over my head and I remember a fortune from a fortune cookie that I kept in my wallet, for no apparent reason other than that I liked what it said.

It's a silly urge: I want to give her a hug because by now she really looks like she could use one. But not knowing whether she will think I'm weird or be annoyed at me or even how I could get her attention, I decide to tap her on the shoulder. She looks up with tears in her eyes, then down to accept the small piece of paper I'm trying to hand her.

A few moments pass and I worry that now things are going to get awkward. Then she smiles and whole-heartedly says "Thank you!" while brushing the tears away. We're deep under ground but it's as if the sun just came out.

Later she gets off the subway. I never find out what was bothering her but I don't care.

The fortune reads: "The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it."

A Musing #2

Being aware of your greatest weakness could be your greatest strength.

A Musing #1

In thinking that through thinking one could never arrive at a conclusion, the thinker once again proved himself wrong.

Condolences for Jack

I was on the bus on the way to work when I first heard it. A Jamaican lady was talking on her cellphone. "What?! Oh no! That's horrible!" then through her thick accent I could make out her repeating: "Is it breaking news?"

I wondered what was considered "breaking news." Did her son just win a scholarship? Then: "I feel bad for Olivia" and "he had been fightin' his other cancer." By then some bells started going off. I put it together but just to make sure, once she got off the phone I had to confirm my fears: "Did I overhear you say that Jack Layton is dead?"

"It's very sad" she said. She didn't need to say anything more. We had one of those moments strangers rarely share, of taking pause and simply understanding what it's like not to understand -that something would change for everyone, albeit a little bit differently for each person. For some, it's just an ordinary day. But it's sad that the NDP leader of Canada passed away and ended his long battle with multiple cancers, one through which he continued, and no doubt will continue, to inspire optimism. Or is that "sad"?

It was only about a month ago when Jack Layton stepped down as leader of the NDP to focus on his health. He had fought prostate cancer so most figured he would do it again. It's hard to think of him as simply a human. His death came as an eventual expectation but also a devastating surprise. Yet cancer increasingly makes mortals of us all.

Not only is it sad for both Liberal and Bloc Quebecois who watched the way he charmed the country in this last election. Canadian politics were so long dominated by an almost tiring bandying back and forth between the Liberals and the Conservatives, with too many weak and confused minority governments, too many vague promises or partisan political trickery. People wanted an alternative, and suddenly they gained an "orange crush" for Jack Layton, who inspired an "orange wave" which rippled across the country, crested with the white whiskers of his whimsical smile, a smile and spine to back it up, which gained his party a spot as the official opposition to the Tories for the first time.

It will be sad for the NDP party, although I am sure it will only fill them with more determination. New leader Nycole Turmel will have a lot to live up to. Gaping shoes. They need someone whose disgust with the broken political system was matched by such a practical will to do something about it, even as rivals led smear campaigns against him.

He continued to fight for the country he saw Canadians wanting to see. Without disclosing what type of cancer had spread from his fight against prostate cancer, he wrote us a letter -to those battling cancer, to political parties, to young Canadians. The style of his letters are a reflection of the man himself, who didn't address himself to a select few behind closed doors but took the time to empathize with the regular man and the business woman and the struggling family member, the seniors and the poor.

Although I couldn't make it to the memorial at Queen's Park in Toronto today at 4pm, I thought of how far Jack took us ahead. Here's the last letter that he left behind:

August 20, 2011
Toronto, Ontario

Dear Friends,

Tens of thousands of Canadians have written to me in recent weeks to wish me well. I want to thank each and every one of you for your thoughtful, inspiring and often beautiful notes, cards and gifts. Your spirit and love have lit up my home, my spirit, and my determination.

Unfortunately my treatment has not worked out as I hoped. So I am giving this letter to my partner Olivia to share with you in the circumstance in which I cannot continue.

I recommend that Hull-Aylmer MP Nycole Turmel continue her work as our interim leader until a permanent successor is elected.

I recommend the party hold a leadership vote as early as possible in the New Year, on approximately the same timelines as in 2003, so that our new leader has ample time to reconsolidate our team, renew our party and our program, and move forward towards the next election.

A few additional thoughts:

To other Canadians who are on journeys to defeat cancer and to live their lives, I say this: please don’t be discouraged that my own journey hasn’t gone as well as I had hoped. You must not lose your own hope. Treatments and therapies have never been better in the face of this disease. You have every reason to be optimistic, determined, and focused on the future. My only other advice is to cherish every moment with those you love at every stage of your journey, as I have done this summer.

To the members of my party: we’ve done remarkable things together in the past eight years. It has been a privilege to lead the New Democratic Party and I am most grateful for your confidence, your support, and the endless hours of volunteer commitment you have devoted to our cause. There will be those who will try to persuade you to give up our cause. But that cause is much bigger than any one leader. Answer them by recommitting with energy and determination to our work. Remember our proud history of social justice, universal health care, public pensions and making sure no one is left behind. Let’s continue to move forward. Let’s demonstrate in everything we do in the four years before us that we are ready to serve our beloved Canada as its next government.

To the members of our parliamentary caucus: I have been privileged to work with each and every one of you. Our caucus meetings were always the highlight of my week. It has been my role to ask a great deal from you. And now I am going to do so again. Canadians will be closely watching you in the months to come. Colleagues, I know you will make the tens of thousands of members of our party proud of you by demonstrating the same seamless teamwork and solidarity that has earned us the confidence of millions of Canadians in the recent election.

To my fellow Quebecers: On May 2nd, you made an historic decision. You decided that the way to replace Canada’s Conservative federal government with something better was by working together in partnership with progressive-minded Canadians across the country. You made the right decision then; it is still the right decision today; and it will be the right decision right through to the next election, when we will succeed, together. You have elected a superb team of New Democrats to Parliament. They are going to be doing remarkable things in the years to come to make this country better for us all.

To young Canadians: All my life I have worked to make things better. Hope and optimism have defined my political career, and I continue to be hopeful and optimistic about Canada. Young people have been a great source of inspiration for me. I have met and talked with so many of you about your dreams, your frustrations, and your ideas for change. More and more, you are engaging in politics because you want to change things for the better. Many of you have placed your trust in our party. As my time in political life draws to a close I want to share with you my belief in your power to change this country and this world. There are great challenges before you, from the overwhelming nature of climate change to the unfairness of an economy that excludes so many from our collective wealth, and the changes necessary to build a more inclusive and generous Canada. I believe in you. Your energy, your vision, your passion for justice are exactly what this country needs today. You need to be at the heart of our economy, our political life, and our plans for the present and the future.

And finally, to all Canadians: Canada is a great country, one of the hopes of the world. We can be a better one – a country of greater equality, justice, and opportunity. We can build a prosperous economy and a society that shares its benefits more fairly. We can look after our seniors. We can offer better futures for our children. We can do our part to save the world’s environment. We can restore our good name in the world. We can do all of these things because we finally have a party system at the national level where there are real choices; where your vote matters; where working for change can actually bring about change. In the months and years to come, New Democrats will put a compelling new alternative to you. My colleagues in our party are an impressive, committed team. Give them a careful hearing; consider the alternatives; and consider that we can be a better, fairer, more equal country by working together. Don’t let them tell you it can’t be done.

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.

All my very best,

Feel free to express your condolences here

Or instead of sending flowers, donate to the Broadbent Institute

Politics

Ace of Base Up In My Face!

What a sign of resurgence! Since going on hiatus and splitting from their lead singer Jenny Berggren in 2003, Swedish band Ace of Base had fresh faces Clara Hagman and Julia Williamson in Toronto last night, performing at Queer Beerfest at Exhibition Place.

The energy was infectious and there was so much love to be shared! Julia kept forming her hands into a heart shape symbol sharing conceptual hearts with raucous fans, who reached and clambered over fences for a chance to literally connect with the stars. I was close to the front where I felt satisfactorily touched, just making occasional eye contact.

Since flipping the tape over in my walkman back when cassettes were the mode-d'ecouter, I have to admit I hadn't given Ace of Base much thought. Had the singer committed suicide? Where were they now? I was completely surprised by the fact that I would have ever gotten the chance to see them perform! But what is it about them and other Swedish bands like the Cardigans that I love so much? Original members Ulf and Jonas were rockin' out and there were amazing and hilarious doppelganger b-boy dancers to back them up. On top of that, the band was generous enough to do three encores, including an emotional moment where a fan was called up to help rally voices for Don't Turn Around, which was an fitting anthem to wind down to, considering nobody wanted them going anywhere.

It was a surprising end to a taxing week. Despite the global economic meltdown we're experiencing post US debt ceiling disaster, the song glossed over my petty worries with positive reminders like "no one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong. But where do you belong?" Perhaps that's a question we should ask AND prepare for more often. But in the mean (and I mean MEAN) time, you really did see and feel the love. It was a good sign. :)

Events

On Aging, Friends and Surviving Heat Waves Based on the Latter

I have a friend who shall go nameless because he is rather modest, but we have the same birthday and we met years ago via blogging.

He's a great mentor to have, being a sapient eleven year older version of myself (if I manage to turn out alright, that is). With age comes experience. I feel that we have had similar experiences but he is someone who has had more and come out on top. Of course, he still has problems to complain about. We all do.

If we didn't life would be boring. If life were boring we would invent something. If we invented something it would have new problems. Back to square one!

Through his rapier-witted humour and tell-it-like-it-is-ness but also his friendliness and hospitality, I've come to value his opinions and appreciate his company. I think everyone needs a couple people that are always there for them, no matter what but who won't sugarcoat the truth when you need a lesson about the hard knocks of life. He's that for me.

Originally, he encouraged me to move to the city and he has continued to help me build contacts so that I can really be a success! In a way, I don't know if I would have decided that it were possible to come here if it weren't for him. He's a fantastic support and his encouragement just made it seem easy. Finally by my late twenties I moved to the city that always called to me and I haven't looked back. Well, ok, I have looked back. I enjoy my memories now and then. :)

Now that it is coming up to my first year anniversary of making it in this city (and the day after the anniversary of both our births), I realize how important it is to keep looking forward. Just before I do though, let me explain a bit more and I would like to share some of the banter we txt and email back and forth, to get each others goat.

We always do this thing where we call each other random things. He will say that "you're" whatever he happens to be thinking or seeing at that time, things overheard from others in public or something to make you roll your eyes, as in: you're "blame storming" or whatever cliche phrase or issues reporters happen to be throwing around at any given time; things people say that may have some truth but seem to cause more stress merely by thinking of them than being blissfully ignorant like: you're "you know, drinking from an old Brita filter is actually worse for your overall health than not using a filter at all" or "you know, bananas are going to be extinct soon", you're "fracking", "we couldn't have done it without all our wonderful volunteers" etc.

There's also a "that's me" joke that is often used for self-deprecating and hilarious purposes. It's something not everyone understands. I could point at an old, balding man carrying rubber chicken and say "that's you" and my friend would understand and laugh. You, my reader, might not. It is kinda a "had to be there" kind of thing. Fair enough. We find it funny. Moving on.

He told me straight up yesterday: "See, but now the thing is, when you're thirty, [my real or fictional age in this post] it's like you really have to get things together. You don't want to be forty [my friend's real or imagined age] then thinking about changing jobs." I don't know if I agree with that —these days we're projected to have six or seven careers in our lifetimes, not necessarily one teaching career, one career as a businessman or a doctor and a pension after retiring at sixty-five like our folks but I have been a little worried about being able to retire, being able to be responsible, to support for a family —a family I still haven't had time to start or really work on because I am not a doctor, lawyer or teacher. Most of all I hate the uncertainty: will I ever have a stable, engaging, worthwhile profession to hold onto? However, if the 30s are really "the new 20s" then maybe I can still dream? One thing is for sure: I can't stop working hard to find something I love to do! On the other hand, I need to take care of myself and rest so that I have enough energy to work hard.

My friend jokes about how people start to mention that he's not "that old" they will say. But then you realize that "that old" is relative: "You look like you could be my father's age"...Ouch. As you get older, you may want to be experienced and wise, but it's not so much fun when it's the bags under your eyes and salt n' pepper hair that gives it away. You can't go out all night and roll out of bed the next day ready to take the world by storm like you did in college. I still want to think we can change our minds and get another chance, that "every day is a winding road" -Sheryl Crow. We still dream for immortality! But responsibility sets in...

For me, advancing my career and being stable enough to settle down at thirty five seems challenging at this point. I could have a job and a get-er-done attitude and pull it off, but will I be happy? To be a plumber or to get a PHD. On the other hand, some things can't wait forever. I am considering going back to school for the third time since high school. I used to think I would be married and have three kids by the time I was in my mid twenties!

So, we share our experience of aging together. We watch our weight. We nag each other about whether we made it to that interview or remembered to cut down on the carbs. He shows me tricks on how to save money. I learn to comparative shop. I learn not to be reckless. I learn to be subtle. We ply each other whether there are any budding new life opportunities or leads that could prove prosperous. We pat each other on the back when we've made a proverbial score.

Last night we went out and polished off some wine on patios in kensington market for our birthday and then we went over to a friend's house where we were served copious amounts of ice cream and popcorn. I couldn't resist. My friend couldn't either. He resisted better than I did though after a few spoon scoops. I almost finished the carton!

Today I am sitting in my room in a shared house where I pay rent. There are multiple fans on and I am shirtless as I type this (not to make you picture something you don't want to). It's been a week long heat wave where with the humidity, it feels like 45 degrees. You never stop sweating. You wake up in puddles. I realize there are others in this world who are starving and dying of drought. This is not quite as bad as that. Meanwhile, my friend sleeps soundly in his air conditioned condo. I am in a muggy and self-loathing mood, only regretting last night's regalia for the physical consequences that have transpired (I had very little sleep and ate too much). I have started working out in the last few years to keep off the pounds. I have had to start working in the last few years. But today working out would simply not be feasible. I have just enough energy to txt my friend something similar to what he has already told me:

"The worst thing about 30 is you eat some ice cream one night, you see the fat the very next day. It's like it just fills some cream pocket in your stomach and pops up to say hello! What you never thought you'd see me again? I never left! I came to stick around. Here in this hot sticy muggy hell. But I guess you don't care about silly 30 year old problems what with your established 41 year old condo with constant air conditioning to keep your waifish body from exhausting trying to heat itself"

"LOL"

(I am goading him by ridiculing that he's worried about his figure when he's actually quite fit and boosting him with the fact that he has things together —something I envy). He appreciates it. We always talk to each other this way. It might read aggressive and hostile but that's the way we joke.

There is a pause of several minutes, then my friend texts (txts) back:

"I'm scared to see how hot and humid it's going to be tomorrow"

I am more so. The threat is imminent.

But what does he have to be scared of? He doesn't even need to go outside. It will be air conditioned in his office once he gets there. Is he pushing my buttons cause he knows I don't have air conditioning once we're both off work? It's hard to decipher tone through text. But no, because he offered to let me sleep on his couch so that I can actually sleep. My apartment will be sweltering as they are predicting the pinnacle of the heat wave tomorrow. I will be safe in his condo, protected from the devastating effects of the climate, shielded within a comfortable cool.

What are friends for? For keeping each other from going insane.

Polynesian Bride

Uh-huh, Polynesian Bride. That's right. I caught this short clip of you a few weeks ago when I went to see you at Sneaky Dee's and now it's unleashed.

Since it was the week after NXNE, it seems most hipsters were too hungover to make it out. Still, this colossal band was able to get those who were there swaying and then dancing more fervently. I came to see my friends band (she's also a math guru) but ended up staying for this multitudinous marriage of many instruments and voices. Just watching them set up was interesting, as I counted over a dozen band members. Luckily, they all fit on stage!

Events

New Dinosaur Species Found

It's amazing what you can find on the internet if you look hard enough. Look at it as a metaphor for looking for things in real life. Sometimes you find something amazing without even looking!

New dinosaur species have been unearthed in and around California. Discovering a whole trove of discoveries rocked my consciousness with wonder! How had this not shook the rest of the world and if so, why hadn't I heard about it?? Everyone knows that they've found new pyramids but really this? After 65,000,000,000 years?! For anyone who grew up making plasticine dinosaurs, who perfected sculpting every known species of dinosaur into figurines and who now has a whole new challenge ahead of them, this is simply amazing.

How it happened was that I was sitting at my computer not doing too much when I wondered whether Tyrannosaurus Rex's were particularly fast runners or not. Random question, infinite access to the internet. One would assume that they are a predator ergo they would have to be, but I was just doing some cautious fact-checking when I came across this not-so-secret archive of paleontology finds and boy was I excited! I was so excited I didn't even care how fast Tyrannosaurus Rexes could run, my thoughts were racing even faster!

Perhaps I have just been in an archeoillogical bubble, going to my 9-5 job listening to democracynow.org and the good old CBC rather than digging my heels into underground paleontology -the grit of the distant past, but let me ask you, have you heard of a cocketetielosaurus? You have heard of a cocketielosaurus! What does it look like? WRONG!

In fact the cocketetielosaurus is covered in feathers. There are a lot of theories that dinosaurs weren't naked lizards as they are commonly portrayed to us by our mainstream paleontologists but actually fully clothed. This is the proposed theory of renegade paleontologist "Jillian". The cocketetielosaurus very name means "nice bird". But every "nice" smiley face has a hidden frown, the cockotielosaurus is definitely one bird, or sorry, excuse me, one dinosaur(?), not to mess with. If you want to gloat about your trip to Paris, don't do it to the cocketeilosaurus. It's been there done that. It had been all over the world and survived in every climate. "It flew everywhere." Not like the stripeosaurus who despite having a pretty cool stripey coat, went nowhere. There's some joy (albeit vicarious bordering on envious) knowing that the cocketetielosaurus was probably a very light-hearted species. "It played a lot."

There are other dinosaurs whom evolution did not treat them so kindly. Take the cheeasaurus for example. "It was mad because a long neck ran into him." I would be too! Wouldn't you? Funny thing those long necks. They never seem to be attached to a brain! Always running around everywhere without even looking where they're going! Thank goodness Brandon discovered him so that he could share his troubled history with us so that we can gain a better appreciation of the hardship he had to endured to surv...er, get extinct by.

Whichever story you choose to believe, whether humans and dinosaurs co-existed, whether knights of the stone henge were commissioned by dinosaur kings to build them impenetrable armour or that throwing virgins into volcanoes was in fact the causal beginning of the ice age, this is a goldmine of discovery by extremely ambitious young paleontologists who deserve recognition! It tells us a very different story about dinosaurs that we don't often get to see. Perhaps by learning about a vast array of species it can help us better understand our own.

Some of these dinosaurs may still be surviving according to students in the field. The pinkosaurus is one such species. It can be tough to spot because it hides under Brentwood Bus seats but that doesn't make it any less plausible that it could still be unphased out of existence. It's related to, but quite different in appearance than the blueasaurus. Like it's name suggests, it's blue. It's discovery has caused many critics in various fields to quit their jobs immediately.

Probably the most exciting and frightening of these discoveries are the species of killosaurus. Its pictured here with its characteristic "mean" look, smeared in the blood of its prey, its friends and its mate. Paleontologist Justin summed it up best with these three points when he said:

It looked mean.

It liked to eat meat.

It killed other dinosaurs very well.

Thanks to the teachers at Brentwood for supplying shovels.

Silly

Wish

I am sorry I have been so quiet lately
I had no words even
to explain it to myself

I had forgotten
or maybe I just didn't believe
that the last word has yet to be written

Dwelling in the rain and gloom
can make one feel like the man on the moon
we are not alone

My life sentence
is like an outstretched hand
extended
like the spring buds
you begin to see on trees in May,
There, revivification

And I am just starting to remember
that you always get another chance
But these things take time
the first step is utterance
calling on the natural powers of the universe

I clasp my hands together as a flower, hoping

Something good will blossom

Travel With Care

I got in a bus accident. That is to say I had an accident on the streetcar. Just as it was slowing to a stop, I unwisely let go of the railing and during that split second it lurched forward unexpectedly. As I was compensating for my weight in one direction, suddenly it went in the other. My feet went out from under me, gravity pulled me down and the edge of a nearby seat caught the soft fleshy part of my abdomen just under the right side of my ribs. Pain shot through my body and the recently purchased items from Shoppers Drugmart went skimming around the car. My friend Todd, as well as everyone else on the bus, watched speechless as I groaned uncontrollably and held my side. Although it felt like ripping in half to reach down and get my things, I did so hoping it would distract me from the pain.

I exited at my stop and continued on my way, groaning all the way home. My friend trailed behind me not knowing what to say, so I announced: “I just have to breathe” and did so deeply, trying to calm my nerves, which screamed and hissed like a wild mink thrown sadistically into the fire. The intensity of this pain reminded me of the pain of breaking a rib, yet luckily, breathing deeply was the one thing that made it feel better, so my ribs must have been fine. It was the lower area not affecting my skeletal system that was seeing its darkest day.

We got to my place and still the pain wouldn’t subside. I would like to think I have a high pain tolerance but I was forced to stay as immobile as possible since everything else hurt. Relaying the incident to someone else, they said: “I hope you didn’t bruise your liver.” Although I had never heard of that before, I waved off the concern, firing back “No, it’s OK. I fell on my right side. The liver’s on the left.” Then just to be sure, I checked the internet. Uh-oh. Apparently my memory of anatomy has faded since I have completed my CCPE: the liver IS on the right side. What I read was troubling: “Having a bruised liver is no small matter, and if not attended to immediately can cause further problems.” I started feeling worried and faint. Was I feeling faint because I was worried or worried because I felt faint? At that moment, I didn’t have time to process or enumerate on the particular strengths and weaknesses of the James-Lange theory of emotion. I felt extremely light-headed and my ears were starting to ring. Was this the result of internal bleeding? Was I experiencing rhabdomyolysis?? In any case, suddenly it felt like my life was in danger. I wasn’t going to die painfully in my room listening to tunes on grooveshark.com. I turned to Todd and said “I don’t feel so good.” Catching my litotes, he stood straight up and said: “Dude, you look really pale!” I had never done this before but what I did next was to call the ambulance.

They told me not to eat or drink anything and to stay on the line. Then they hung up on me. I started going through all the potential horror scenarios in my head, picturing them cutting me open in a desperate attempt to sew up cleaved organs, blood shooting out all over the operating table. I have four sisters who work in the health profession. I tried reaching just one of them to ask if I was crazy. No answer.

Maybe the fresh air helped because as we stood (key indication: I stood) outside waiting, I started to calm down. Only then did I consider that I might be overreacting. I wondered: should I call them back? It was a tricky situation. It wasn’t like a restaurant reservation that I could just cancel. It was one of those Shakespearian “I am in blood stepped in so far that should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o’er.” (Macbeth) Only I wasn’t bleeding. Someone else could be bleeding to death and they would be deprived of an ambulance but how was I to know? It was too late to change my mind now. Maybe someone was in cardiac arrest. Either way, that ambulance was on its way to me.

The way the two men got out of the ambulance, you could tell they were already heading for the stretcher in the back. I sheepishly indicated that the ambulance was for me, like an embarrassed schoolchild saying “here” during attendance. I started flooding them with apologies, feeling silly for calling them and then walked myself into the back, watching my head. The paramedic was a friendly young Asian man who reassured that it was fine, took my blood pressure and temperature then told me that “everything checks out normal, so far.” He explained that he’s also had the pleasure of “rocking his side on the corner of a dock after a couple drinks” before and he was fine. The liver is a “resilient organ made of soft gooshy tissue” so by then I was certainly feeling that I would be fine. I tried to probe again: is this needed? Should we just turn around? But he suggested I goto the hospital and get checked out, if not for anything else, just to get some “peace of mind.”

Well, an hour or so later after wading/waiting through rooms of scarred, wheel-chaired and tragic-looking individuals, I was siphoned through triage where I met Doctor #1. Again, I explained that I wasn’t too worried anymore. He suggested I stay and go through with it anyway. By this point it was just a formality, like showing up for a date even though you weren’t so keen. “You don’t want to get the medical bill” for skipping out early, he warned. “How much is the regular bill?” $45. GTK.

When I saw Doctor # 2 he poked around and tried to figure out where it hurt. There was one particular spot that made me jump but it didn’t hurt too much anywhere else. My back didn’t hurt which would have been a concern for kidney damage.

Because I had just been reading Michael Behe’s Darwin’s Black Box where he explains the obstacles to Darwin’s theory of evolution, namely gradualism in the face of all the scientific advances since the discovery of the microscope, DNA etc., I was particularly interested by the way a health professional such as Doctor #2 phrased his explanation of why I shouldn’t be too worried about the blow to my side: “Whoever designed us has done an excellent job of hiding most of the liver behind the ribcage…” (Refer to Figure 1 at the top of this article). I had just been reading hundreds of pages proposing an alternative to Darwin’s evolutionary theory, namely the argument for intelligent design and what he was saying convince me that we were on the same page. Of course the argument for design vs undirected process has been going on long before Darwin but the word "design" triggered something in me. The fact that this doctor was talking about our ‘design’ as if it was purposefully done by someone (or something) gave me a shiver.

Often, critics of Darwin’s theory are branded as simple-minded creationists with no regard for science. Darwin’s theories are compelling and ‘survival of the fittest’ is one of the most accepted and pervasive ideas in our modern capitalist society. But do we really live in a ‘natural’ world where our survival attests to our fitness? How can evolution explain the gradual steps it took to reach irreducibly complex systems such as the blood clotting system, which relies on all parts to function at all, and would be no better with one set of most of the parts vs another set of most of the parts, for the particular task of clotting? On the other hand, if there was ever a God, maybe he's forgotten about us or he's too busy with other universes to deal with us, as Bernard-Henri Levi suggests, or maybe as Richard Dawkins suggests: if there's a watchmaker, he's blind so he can't fix us anyway. But talking to this doctor was first-hand proof that it was possible to consider scientific theory as compatible with intelligent design.

Maybe the earth wasn’t created in seven days but is it possible that at least some stages of evolution were destined either by a well-planned out environment, to reach the animal kingdom ready-made, with certain purposes in mind? I realize that any time you talk about “destiny” it rings of superstition and if intelligent design were true, it should be just as appealing to an atheist as it is to a theist. Unfortunately, in my opinion, neither evolution nor intelligent design are testable theories until we figure out how to time travel.

Once Doctor #2 laid out my options and prescribed some codeine, I finally had the chance to simply leave. It would take all day just to get in for an X-ray or for some imaging and since my ribs were obviously fine and my liver doesn’t hang down below my ribs like a seasoned alcoholic’s might: "two young healthy guys like us", I left.

Patient Todd was still in the first waiting room, with the other patients. Since there are no cellphones allowed in the hospital, I never got his text asking whether or not he should stay. We ended up back on the streetcar where it all started, heading back to my place. I sat down cautiously and held the bar a little longer than usual. “At least we got to ride the ambulance.” Todd offered. Yes we did.

Personal Diegesis

The Duchess is Historically if not Politically Correct

The first movie I watched in 2011 was The Duchess, starring Kiera Knightly and Ralph Fiennes.

It's about 18th century aristocrat who was surely the talk of all the coffee houses. As the Duchess of Devonshire and leading fashionista by proxy, she was a trend-setter but also a deal-breaker who broke the mold by having an affair with Charles Grey. Knightly as Georgiana Spencer does an excellent job of showing her (secret) admiration for Grey, who was a rival but who stood for ideas like "freedom", a theme explored throughout the movie through the different compromises Spencer had to make for her family and herself as a woman. At one point the Duke takes her children hostage and threatens to destroy Grey's political career unless she resolves to remain with him and make the marriage work.

This movie showed how different the 'olden days' were, with the sexist assumption that while a man has certain "duties" to his wife, she wasn't able to enforce them on him. They were merely ideals. As a result, no wonder women were thought to be characterized by "trickery" and a low moral character. They had no rights to exercise! Men were free to have their romps but women were expected to remain "imprisoned" in their homes -a word Georgiana tactfully extracts from her husband's euphemistic language ordering her what to do. They were to have no pleasure, sexual or otherwise, for themselves. During an intimate conversation, Grey makes an observation about Georgiana to the effect that she worries too much what others think. She responds that she never thought of it but how petty that makes her seem! The first kiss that they share shows a building from Pride and Prejudice in the background, another period piece to which Knightly is well suited.

Although Keira Knightly is very easy on the eyes, movies like this can be hard for some to watch. Just as I have heard people's angry response to the series Mad Men because it's set in the 50's and thus portrays all of the sexism of that time without editing out history with a politically correct vengeance. It is hard to watch a wife come to the decision that allowing her husband to rape her is really the best choice for her children. You wish somehow that plot would get hijacked. That was the reality of the situation though! Poetic license doesn't work if you want to get a biography right.

I enjoyed this movie because it's an important love story without much love. It made me empathize with the 18th century woman. I felt that although I was lazing around with my laptop, I wasn't wasting time boobtubing. I was at least getting some sense of history.

Movie Reviews

November Silence

When the world turned its page to its darkest chapters
Children were hiding, no warmth or laughter
Bombs, guns, gas, trenches,
torches, screams, disease, fences

Mothers mustered boys from school to the fields
Boys were called men with the weapons they wield
No other choice, if not them, then who would fight?
Or rage, rage against the dying of the light

The war to end wars we must never forget
Especially in peace, for still we regret
No glory or honour to live at fears bequest
They fought, and fought on, so that we may rest

Death, never sweet, though solemn oaths they take
Far from their families, though their hearts break
So in November, we must stop to think
Take silence for them who no longer can speak

Copyright © 2010 Barrett Cressman

Poetry

Facing Waste with Rebellion

Give yourself the benefit of a doubtful situation, and make the best of it! If unemployed, you can find yourself in a situation where it can be as easy to get in a slump as it is to mastermind a new escape into the great unknown. Freedom can do strange things to people. Enjoying yourself responsibility becomes a labour of love and a test of discipline. So what I decided to do was to take advantage of Blockbuster's recent Summer Savings Event and get a "movie pass" that allows me to rent as many movies (new releases excepted) for $10/month. Some may say that prostrating oneself in front of a screen is a waste of time, but I think otherwise.

Right now the global situation of our ongoing survival is at least somewhat doubtful regardless of who you ask, for many different reasons. We're stuck in the vision of cities as the same basic box-shaped structure of steel and glass that existed in the 50's, with oil and electricity dependance. But I just recently watched "a genuinely inspirational film" -Artvoice, called Garbage Warrior about a man who made his own destiny and changed many lives. It shows how the possibility of living off the grid can be a lot more hopeful.

It documents renegade architect Michael Reynolds journey as struggles to be allowed to build "earthship" houses out of bottles, cans, old tires and dirt. He spent 30 years in New Mexico developing these self-sustainable structures that not only product their own water, grow food, electricity, sewage etc. they look peculiarly interesting, with their kaleidoscope of light-infiltrating bottles in the walls, and hand-molded rounded shapes. Knowing that these houses actually work and are resilient to various climates only makes them more desirable to live in. What's amazing is that when Reynolds got his crew together to build these villages, they took garbage and practically build the houses for nothing!

Reynolds is a big thinker. But sometimes people with big ideas don't mesh with the mainstream. A result of his work saw his architect licence being suspended because the structures he built didn't follow "normal" zoning bylaws, which is to say, they didn't have electricity, sewage etc provided for them from without. That is to say: they were too self-sustainable. The board handed him a thick book full of zoning violations. One of the most poignant things Reynolds says to sum up costs, the system and the steps he needed to take to be legit is by outlining what the law requires of architects planning to build a new subdivision:

"This is the application for phase 3 and 4 to be a subdivision. We had to provide 14 copies of this [presenting an overfilled binder]. Archeologists had to walk the land and look for arrowheads. That cost $20,000 and all they did was walk around and pick up arrowheads! Engineers had to engineer the terrain and make diagrams and drawings that nobody ever uses. That was $14,000. Just endless horse shit. We have a person who could not see any bigger than the rulebook. And I think that's the issue we have before us right now on this planet. We've got lots of people can't see any bigger than the rulebook and beyond the rulebook is global warming." -Micheal Reynolds

To lose one's licence after ten years of school to become an architect, and then to be told 'no' to literally building your dreams; of course that's gonna shake you up. Luckily, Michael Reynolds doesn't give up easily.

The rest of the movie shows how he fought back by going at the system as a part of it. He had some other colourful expressions to describe how he was going to infect the system with his ideas but one that's blogworthy is that he was to become what he dubbed the "Trojan Horse" by donning a suit and heading to the Supreme Court to fight the limited way the law understands "living" to be. But the culture of fear is still strong...

After Hurricane Katrina came he again tried to propose his ideas and was struck down again. People had no homes. They had nothing. What he was proposing was an immediate solution to their problem, but the law doesn't provide immediate solutions to anything. The whole experience shows how frustrating and absolutely ridiculous the legal system is. It's a "grandfather system" that works for certain things if you have all the time in the world but now more than ever we need swift decisions. The fact that you can have a room full of politicians wasting time, and that that's their job: to kill a bill by filibustering, when it suits them, because doing anything too radical, too immediate, would be a "liability", or a "safety concern" is disgusting, but of course, as many of the ways society works can be summed up: "it is what it is."

When another hurricane struck the Andaman Islands due to one of the biggest earthquakes since the 1900's, Reynolds finally got to put his work to practical use. The island was devastated by flood, with more than half of the residents lives erased. The documentary shows one man pointing to different areas, saying "we sat there" or recounting times with family and friends in spots that bear no record of history. Reynolds meets with architects and explains how his structures are round so that they distribute the force of a striking wave and how, he believes, they would stand up to earthquakes reading 9.1 on the Richter scale.

In the face of devastation, the local residents of the Andaman Islands show immense resilience and courage to get on board. The women are mixing mud for mortar, and making "bricks" out of the plastic bottles children find in the streets. They pound dirt into old tires with sledgehammers.

Reynolds had proposed directly giving people the tools to build their own earth ships, not designing AND building cities as an alternative to taking on the liability of being completely in charge. He wanted to make an "experimental test city" reasoning that if the US could designate miles and miles of land in Arizona just to periodically detonate and destroy land with nuclear weapons, to "test" them, why couldn't he "test" something a little more constructive? On the one hand, the US took extreme risks in testing nuclear weapons that they didn't even know whether they would destroy the whole planet in the interest of "security. On the other, someone wants to take a small risk to provide shelter, when working examples of those structures already existed, and it's considered "radical".

The happy part of the story is that once the board of architects in the US heard about Reynolds work in the Andaman Islands, they finally decided to award him back his Architects licence.

I commend the man as a true "warrior."

Movie Reviews