Canada’s Debate

My grandmother passed away tonight.

She had been suffering from Dementia with Lewy bodies for some time, although it was not diagnosed until the fall of 2005. In fact, until the spring of that year her only symptom was a loss of balance which we ascribed to her recurrent vertigo. By the summer of 2005 her short term memory had completely evaporated, she was prone to sudden (and ocassionally violent) mood swings, was increasingly disoriented (tried to feed her dog a bagel with cream cheese), and suffered some hallucinations. Throughout it all she remained in essence herself… and it stayed that way until last winter when she “succumbed” to the progressive effects of the disease and the lights went out, even while the house still stood.

In reality we have been mourning her since that time, and it has been hard, for my aunt in particular. I remember her not through a series of events or images, but rather as a personality. I knew her, and that knowledge hasn’t changed since my childhood. Even now she looms large in our lives, not as a great mover or doer of deeds, but as a personality that was so strong that she became a part of those who loved her (and sometimes for those that didn’t.) I miss her, but I’m not mourning anymore. I’ve said my goodbyes to her, and I’ve got plenty of her spirit to hold on to between the amazing woman that I knew… and the bottle of Cherry Herring sitting on our liquor cabinet.

Goodbye Buby. I’ll miss your smile, even if I didn’t see it that often.

What has one eye, six legs, about ten feathers, and foams tirelessly at the mouth?

Yep, you guessed it: the American media! This is not a critique of that media mind you… what it is is a rejection of the sort of mass “sadness” that seems to follow whenever tragedy strikes. Now, what is the difference between a tragedy and a “tragedy”? The answer I’m sorry to say is that the latter is a lamentable, dreadful, or fatal event or affair; whereas a tragedy is a lamentable affair which afflicts a large group that reminds people of themselves.

I know I’m being insensitive, and perhaps even a prick, but I am being myself. When I see an outpouring of grief or a virtual font of sappy treacles like I’ve seen in the last thirty-six hours I don’t think of the victims (at least, the press and sentiment doesn’t cause me to think of them, the events however do,) and I don’t think of the killer; I think of the millions of people who don’t give a rat’s ass about the homeless person who freezes to death in the bus shelter down the street (a sign of my continuing decline… I originally typed streat) or the starving children in Mexico City, which is a giant slum punctuated by intermittent wealth. (Continue reading…)

Anyone who has read my blog with any regularity will know that I have certain misgivings about the entire “blogging” enterprise. What is it that bloggers hope to accomplish, either collectively or as individual agents? Some people are in it for the money, others for recognition and fame, some have a genuine beef that they want to share, and others want to be part of a program for change… and I think it is in this range of behaviours that we find the cause of all of our ills as a community, not in one or another.

Lets consider “traditional” journalism for a second. Journalism is generally dictated by a loosely defined code of ethics and standards. While there are numerous and sundry quantifications of this code, it can basically be summarized into three sets of principles: serve the public, tell the truth and minimize harm. Naturally, given the general fracturing of the news industry, these guidelines are constantly being bent and broken, but the most respected (and effective) journalists are always the ones who adhere to these canons. There is an understanding that role of the media is to serve the public in speaking the truth. Unfortunately, for us (and pretty much everyone who has ever been called a pundit) these canons read more like a multiple-choice questionnaire. Some people try to serve the public, others try to speak the truth (or their own truth), and to others a scoop is just an opportunity to make a their bones. What has sent me off on this rant? This extremely disturbing story in this morning’s Toronto Star. (Continue reading…)

So, I am employed. More to the point, my life actually has some direction for the first time in years. It’s time to be frank with you my loyal reader, and the other not-so loyal ones which I still appreciate, my interest in politics has always been inversely proportional to whatever else (of importance) I’ve had going on in my life.

To put it plain, politics has been a hobby. Being underemployed for over a year, and student before that gave me a great deal of time for hobbies. I still have free time, but I have made a conscious decision to spend what time I do have on me. I have a clear plan for my life for the first time, and it’s a plan that actually has a sense of tangible realism. The key to that plan is not only doing my new job (more on that below), but doing it well and devoting myself towards being a success. (Continue reading…)

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Of course every day previous was the first day of the rest of my life, but this one is different because it is also the first day of my new job (which I’m not going to divulge much information on.) I can’t say that I enjoy the early mornings as much as some, and my passionate distaste for coffee is particularly cumbersome at the moment, but it’s still a big day for me. Toodles!