The Slow Death of the Canadian Political Blogosphere

I must admit that when I flew to Scotland a few weeks ago to attend a friend's wedding, I had no idea that it would lead to my longest break from blogging in almost twelve years.

But then who knew that after a few wild days in Edinburgh, I would find myself in the rugged Orkney islands, listening to old tales about Vikings, giants, and evil dwarfs, rather than reading about the latest exploits of the insane monster Donald Trump.

Or that while racing back to Edinburgh my motorcycle would hit a patch of black ice and I would have to spend two days in hospital, and almost a week recovering at my family's home in the highlands.

Too battered to blog, and unaware that one of the aggregators that has published this blog for years had just died.

David Bowie and the Lighthouse of the Different

It was amazing to see so many people all over the world saying the same thing yesterday.

Oh no. I didn't even know he was ill. Not the soundtrack of my life.

Not Ziggy Stardust. 

My Full, Frank, and Totally Sober Defence of Elizabeth May

I didn't think I'd have to ride to the defence of Elizabeth May again. I thought one post was enough. 

But since she has been mercilessly pilloried, and some are actually suggesting she should resign.

And you know how I hate bullies.

I thought I better write another one, and restate the obvious.

Violence Against Women: Why We All Need to Look in the Mirror

I'm ashamed to admit that when the stories about the ghastly harassment of women in this country began to emerge, first at the CBC and then on Parliament Hill, I was shocked and horrified.

But because I'm a gay guy, and I've never harassed anyone let alone a woman, and sex for me means love not violence, the idiot thought entered my mind that it wasn't my problem.

So don't don't blame me eh?

But as the trickle of horror stories became a flood. 

And gave birth to this magnificent movement. 

I rapidly realized how wrong I was. It is my problem. It's everybody's problem. And as Carol Goar says, we all need to look in the mirror.

Scottish Independence and the Search for the New Left

OK. So it's probably not the best time to leave Canada. Not in the middle of that tragically short warm period we call summer in the Great White North.

But politically it's the dead season here, or even deader than usual.

While in Scotland where I'm going, it's very much alive. 

Rob Ford and the Lost Animals of Far Enough Farm

Well although he personally believes that crack addicts should be jailed not pampered, I see Rob Ford is finally in rehab.

His monstrous Fordzillamobile is in the pound.

Earlier this week, Ford's Cadillac Escalade was impounded after a 36-year-old woman, Lee Anne McRobb, was charged with impaired driving in Bracebridge while behind the wheel of the vehicle.

And no doubt that "man of the people" is suffering terribly. 

Or not.

What Christmas Means to Me. Again.

I wrote this post a few years ago, after somebody questioned how an atheist like me, could celebrate Christmas. And I've run it every year since then on this day, because with some minor revisions to accommodate the passage of time, it still sums up how I feel about this day. 

It's Christmas Day, and once again I have to explain to my friends, that although I'm an atheist, and I believe that our beautiful planet is our heaven and our hell.

And although I hate the shopping and the greed.

And although I know it can be a sad and lonely time for many. 

I was raised in the Christian tradition, I believe in the earthly message of Jesus the revolutionary, I share the vision of those fighting for a kinder, gentler world.

And I do love this time of the year.

Lou Reed, My Dad, and the Tennis Racquet Guitar

There aren't too many artists who can bridge the generational divide, or the straight/gay divide, but one of them was Lou Reed.

Lou Reed, the singer-songwriter whose darkly poetic recordings as frontman for the Velvet Underground and as a solo artist provided indispensable blueprints for punk, glam, noise rock and nearly every identifiable strain of indie rock, died on October 27. He was 71.

Equally influenced by Chuck Berry and Arthur Rimbaud, Reed’s spiky, provocative lyrics tackled the experiences of drug addicts, transvestites, street hustlers and depressives with a directness and empathy heretofore unheard in American popular music.

Harperland and the Progressive Journey to Victory

It's been pretty grey and wet where I live. It gets dark before you know it. Soon it will be winter in Harperland. In all its grim horror.

But on the positive side I have a few days off, so I can take a short break from blogging, recharge my batteries, and try to figure out where the hell we're going eh?

Because on the gloomiest days I can't help feeling that progressives might be drifting towards disaster.

The Wonderful Saving of Far Enough Farm

Two years ago I first told you the story of Far Enough Farm, the beautiful little hobby farm on the Toronto Islands. A gentle story book place if ever there was one. 

I told you how the brutish Con ogre Rob Ford was trying to destroy it for no good reason.

And how I was worried that some of the humble animals that live there might have to put down if the farm was shut down, because nobody would want them.

The Disastrous Decline of the Con Regime

It was such a beautiful day, the first real day of Spring, that I spent hours pedalling around my magic island, out of touch with the rest of the world.

So it wasn't until I met the three four bears at the little vintage amusement park, that I heard the stunning news. Little Jimbo Flaherty was missing in action !!!!

Valentine's Day in Harperland

Well today was Valentine's Day and I didn't really feel like writing about it this year.

For starters, if I saw another cellophane rose, tacky card, or other pinky thing coming at me I'd probably scream eh?

And secondly, how can you celebrate love in a country as grim and grey and as broken as Harperland?

The Ikea Monkey and the Harper Kong

Gawd. If my protest calendar for December wasn't booked solid. 

And if I hadn't got plastered at the office Christmas party.

I might have been walking around today with a sign reading "Free Darwin Now."

Mourning the Death of an Old Friend

It's been almost a week since I last blogged, and since I left so abruptly some of you have been wondering where I went.

And no doubt some may have feared that I had reread my last post, taken a second look at the burning horror of Harperland.

And decided to get the hell out of here, while the going was still good eh?

But of course I wouldn't miss the collapse of the Con regime for anything.

And the only reason I couldn't write for a few days was because I was mourning this old friend...

Felix, Joe, and the Big Jump

I'm too tired to blog tonight, but I just want to say that I thought this big jump was awesome.

Austrian daredevil Felix Baumgartner became the first man to break the sound barrier in a record-shattering freefall jump from the edge of space Sunday, organizers said. 

The 43-year-old jumped from a capsule more than 39 kilometers above the Earth, reaching a speed of 1,136 kilometres per hour before opening his red and white parachute and floating down to the New Mexico desert.

Because it proves what I've always said eh? After two or three Red Bulls you can do ANYTHING.

Beating the Doggie Called Depression

I went for a walk the other day through the leafy lanes of The Shire, with a friend of mine who has suffered from severe depression from about this time last year.

It was such a beautiful fall day. He was so happy, at having made so much progress on the road to recovery.

And I was just so grateful that he's still here, and that I'm still standing.

Coping With the Horror of Harperland

Sometimes when I stare at the horror of Harperland, like Simon in the Lord of the Flies stared at the head of the pig, I get a bit depressed eh?

I don't know how I'm going to make it to the next election. Three years seems such a long time.

And one really has to wonder whether there will even be an election the way things are going in Harper's Canada  police state, 

Me, Vic, and the Internet Snooping Bill

Oh boy. Sometimes it's not easy to be a blogger in the growing darkness of Stephen Harper's Canada. You can feel the fear in the air.

My computer is humming like a toaster, and I don't know whether it's the sinister operatives from the PMO, or the Russian hackers. Or both gangs working together.

My terrified friends say that if they have to choose between torture and jail, or denouncing me as an Enemy of the State, I better get TWO toothbrushes, and a big box of condoms, because I'm going down for a long time. 

Me, SOPA, and the Internet Revolution

This graphic speaks for itself eh? The day before and the day after the internet revolution.

Then Wednesday happened, and suddenly everyone seemed to understand how serious this was. Wikipedia went dark, and the country wailed; we realized how much we have come to depend on the crowdsourced encyclopedia. Google hung a black sash on its logo. Crowds marched in protest. Facebook issued an uncharacteristically political statement (although we urged it to go further). Network news could not fail to take note.

In short: the Internet got its act together, and the world shook.

And now it's time to say hooray for us.

So, well done, Internet. You did it. You took a relatively obscure bill and you made the world care. One concerted day of action by you shook Washington to its core. Lobbyists like Dodd who have had too much unquestioned control for too long got served notice. There’s a new power player in town; not one man in a suit, but millions of faces with electronic megaphones. And this power player doesn’t take kindly to bills that threaten its behavior.

Of course, before I killed SOPA, by going to black blue.

I had to ask myself some hard questions about my own behaviour. 

Why Dogs Are Better Than Cats...Sometimes

(1) What could match the grateful look of a faithful hound for taking him to his favourite place, the beach? Especially when it's 40 degrees on the humidex scale, and he knows how to keep cool. 

But you don't dare swim in the lake after it rains, and you can't dig a hole, so you're DYING.

(2) Doggies don't do this to their friends...



Gawd.  Where did that cat learn to do that I wonder?

(3) Cats are hopeless at blogging...



While my dog writes a LOT of my posts...

You may have noticed eh?

On the other hand...cats don't like to roll in stinky things.

Like a dead fish.

And so don't have to be punished like this very bad doggie had to be today...

While his unfortunate owner wondered whether he was going to vomit in the tub. Or could make it to the toilet.

So tonight ,at least in this house, cats are looking pretty good eh? 

Although, as I've said before, I do have to say this:

Dogs. How can you live with them?

How can you live without them?