Bittersweet

This past weekend, yesterday in fact, I had the wonderful opportunity to catch up with an old friend. Someone I hadn’t seen in a very long time. It’s funny, no matter how much time passes, some things may never change, eh?

But with such a great occasion came the reminder of some less desired aspects of a life. Specifically the way in which I’m often treated.

The hardest part of my accident, especially in terms of it’s result, is having to constantly endure peoples short sighted expectations. Specifically their perception of my “capacity.” Just because I’m unable to walk and speak like a “normal” individual, doesn’t necessarily mean I need to be treated in a way that is different from anyone else. When a person starts to speak slower, louder, or not even to me, it only insults their intelligence…

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You Musn’t Worry, We Will

I’ve absolutely no idea why, but yesterday, while listening to Propagandhi’s new record, yet again, one song, in particular, felt so much like a kick in the neck. Potemkin City Limits. I know, why is that song, the name of their last record, on this album, Supporting Caste? As Chris said in a recent interview;

“If you had heard the version of the song ‘Potemkin City Limits’ that was originally intended to appear on the record of the same name, you would nod your head vigorously in understanding as to why it was ultimately shelved until a later date. Wow, did it STINK. It is good now.”1

Is it ever! Not just good, it’s great. Not that I’d heard it before. But any song that incites a response, such an emotional reaction, from the strongest Motherfucker ever to rock this planet’s surface, me (OK, I like to exaggerate), has to say something. Doesn’t it?

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In The Can?

I was really busy formulating an attack, in my head all morning, as to why Canadian Prime Minister, Stephen Harper, missed the “needle-dick photo op” at today’s G20 Economic Summit. Preparing to liken his absence to what George Galloway said yesterday on Democracy Now—about the Canadian government being the ‘Last Bastion of Dead-End Bushism’ and this was an attempt by other world leaders to distance themselves from him—when I came across this BBC article, G20 Leaders Miss ‘Family Photo’, that said it all.

Stevie Boy was busy backing one out. “Can I poop in your toilet, please?

Happy April Fools Day!

This morning I had the most unfortunate opportunity to catch The Current on CBC’s Radio One. Usually an interesting and a mildly informative source for perspectives on Canadian and global “news.”

One aspect of the program, especially, caught my ear. It wasn’t Elizabeth May’s apparent declaration to hitch-hike across Canada during the next federal election to reduce expenses and, wait for it, her carbon footprint. A community or “block” toilet. Or, even, catching, killing, boiling, and eating suburban wildlife—being squirrel, possum, and raccoon—as a way to cut costs and ensure your protein intake doesn’t suffer.

I get it. All jokes. Or, at least, I hope they were jokes. But my problem isn’t with that segment, “Radical Thrift,” so much. Rather today’s “short, scripted piece of satire read by ‘The Voice’,” played, each week day, at the outset of the show…

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