We've always made great pets, Perry, but that will soon change.

I know, by the reference to which I have grown accustomed during my short time in this form, that another calendar year has drawn to a close. As per custom, many of us will reflect on another year laid to rest and fancy some resolutions for the one that begins anew. Me, I wonder if we're to navigate through more of the same shit as we did last year and repeat this exercise annually until we die, or if this will be the year that things start to happen. Come to think of it, things happen all the time, so perhaps it is foolish to wish for "things to start to happen". Certain things more than others, I suppose: could they already be happening and we're just unaware of them?

For many of us, today is the day we set ourselves up with lofty expectations for what ought to happen this evening: some will spend the day frantically making plans; others will wallow in pity knowing they have none. Ultimately, all parties will awake tomorrow morning with the realization - however cruel or kind it may be - that the worries and trepidations of last evening don't matter all that much. We should only be so lucky to have the luxury to worry about such trivial matters, as we have warm homes in which to worry and food in our bellies while we worry. We should be so lucky to have only our evening plans and our resolutions for the new year about which to worry: how many of us worry whether we will even live to see the evening or the new year, let alone make plans for them?

I harbour a quiet disdain for these holidays, for they seem to serve as instructions for mass consumption, while lost in the shuffle is the misery felt by many who aren't included in the dance. I know, it's only a day on some arbitrary calendar and I ought not to be lumbered by it, but alas, I cannot help but be consumed by equal parts sorrow and irritation. I think about the people very dear to me, myself included, who did not meet the standards required to be part of the "in" crowd - whatever that may be; even those who were rejected by the "in" crowd managed to forn their own "in" crowd - and while I feel I have come to see this farce for what it is, sometimes I feel left out, not welcome, even invisible. So it goes.

I hope, one day, the very notion of the "in" crowd will surcease, for we are all "in" something together, and that something is a world of shit. The new Year of our Lord 2009 will be a tumultuous one, during which a lot of our core beliefs will be turned on their respective ears. There stands a fantastic chance that by year's end, we will all be in the wilderness, beaten and cold and seemingly alone, stripped of the veneer to which we cling. My friends, we're only alone if we convince ourselves such is the case, for however lonely one might feel at a given time, that loneliness is shared by everyone, so when the time comes and we're standing in the wilderness, we will be standing there together and will have each other.

The doom and gloom on the horizon is only in our heads. In an earlier entry, I forecasted the coming of the end of money, though I feel it to be more of a hope than a prediction. A wise man told me the dawn of the great spiritual awakening is imminent: perhaps a total collapse of our economic model to which we are slaves is necessary for this "golden age" to enter fruition; as much as I hate to say it, perhaps something needs to happen on a global scale to indicate to the masses that no, everything is not fine, and that retreating to our respective coccoons is no longer an option. The time is upon us when we will no longer have to behave as someone's pets, performing each day for treats to take home with us. (To this day, my school is shut down by a strike, and I'm wondering if I even want to return to class, if I should even bother trying to graduate, for I feel the cardinal lesson I've learned is how to ascertain grades. Nevertheless, how many people will be able to afford post-secondary education next year and the years beyond?) Fuck grades. Fuck dollars. Fuck status. Fuck apppearance. They will mean nothing anymore.

It seems I can count on my trusty web log to resurrect my alacrity. Just yesterday, I wondered if I ought to continue living, given our rotten state of affairs and lack of any sign that things will improve. Today, I see that glimmer of hope again way over yonder on the horizon, and with it has returned a desire to live and be of service. Whether or not I will be part of this great awakening in this form, I cannot say, but this isn't about me: it's about us.

There is a line from a song by The Kinks that I feel is apt for this occasion:

I can't go on this way;
There's a new world
just opening for me.

There is a new world opening for all of us.

Mahalo.

Diffidence

This time of year can be quite a drag, especially when you awake to your home being bombarded from above. I haven't been in the best of moods today, and I have had great difficulty finding the words to express how I feel about the whole thing, but I feel it is my duty - however few my readers are - to somehow convey my thoughts to you in one form or another.

I feel so tense right now, consumed by an incredibly eerie feeling. I hate to believe there is no hope for us to curb our hostilities towards one another and live harmoniously, but examples such as the one cited leave me wondering if it is worth bothering. Today, I watched a film in which people physically beat other people because standing up for one's rights as a human being was proving deleterious to the company's profit margin. Last month, an employee at a large department store who shall remain nameless was trampled to death because anxious shoppers could not wait to get their hands on the best deals. Last year - or was it two years ago? I cannot recall - there was a report of undercover police officers sabotaging an otherwise peaceful protest by hurling rocks and other objects at uniformed officers, thereby fomenting a violent response. Bombs explode hourly the world over, killing and maiming indiscriminately, and the assembly lines churn out more. Our infrastructure at home is crumbling, with hospitals and schools under incredible strain, yet our representatives in the legislature did not hesitate to give themselves a twenty-five-percent raise. This past year, over 42,000 Ontario government employees earned at least $100,000 in salary while so many have nothing.

What the fuck are we doing to each other? How do we sleep at night knowing the harm we cause? Do we really gain that much personally? Do those in the establishment really win when they suppress the people in such a manner? And what about those of us willing to kick and punch and shoot our way towards a "new world order", one we perceive to be created in fairness for all? What do we accomplish by maiming and killing? Nothing, that's what, except more of the same. When we lash out at the police, we're playing the same game they are when they take orders to fire tear gas and rubber bullets: they're just as much slaves as we are. And what of this latest foray of aerial bombardment, supposedly in relatiation of attacks on their nation? The kid pulling the trigger to drop the bomb is just as much a victim as the people he kills, for he has to live with what he has done, live with the dissonance that will plague him until his dying day. And so, too, will the people giving these kids their orders.

I tell you, no matter how much material gain results from turning people against people, to so-called "winners" also lose; they lose their humanity, they lose their souls. Sometimes, though, I wonder if we'll ever wake up to what we're doing. Over time, some have been persecuted - even murdered - for attempting to awaken the masses, while others have gone mad, so is a battle worth fighting anymore? Even with the imminent collapse of the global economy, is this ever going to stop? Or will we be trampling and shooting one another for whatever diminutive portions are left?

I almost felt a tinge of optimism course through me as I was writing just now. I look at others - during my better moments, anyway - and see them as I do myself, as beings who live and breathe, who have doubts and worries, who dream and love and yearn to be loved, who would do anything for those dearest to them, even if it means submitting to the will of some supreme purveyor of sustenance. I just don't know if the benevolence inherent in each of us will do much good, so long as we're afraid to let go of our own comforts. Perhaps we all need to hit bottom before realizing we hit bottom together. Even so, there may still be a few of us at the top desperately clinging to the icy ledge of the summit, flailing our legs at those we see below whom we feel might jeopardize our already tenuous hold on whatever remains to give us a sense of "status".

Here I am, rambling again in such a desultory manner. I hope you were able to make some sense of what I was trying to convey. I wonder if there will indeed come a time when we realize how much we lost while seeking material gain for ourselves. I am assured this time is nigh. Given all that is happening around us, I fear my hope is fading.

Marking the Birth of a Free Spirit

Behold: some often overlooked holiday treats for all of you. I hope the passing storm of consumerism didn't shatter your spirits. Blessings to each and every one of you, regardless of custom.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.
(Matthew 5:3-12)

But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil.
Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.
Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.
(Luke 6:35-37)

Owe no man any thing, but to love one another: for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law. (Romans 13:8)

For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.
Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of the world? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?
For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.
For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom:
But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness;
But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.
Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
(I Corinthians 1:19-25)

The Forces of Nature

Today, I begin by remarking on my not having done much writing during the past six weeks. With classes being suspended this long, I figured I would have ample time to opine on all sorts of happenings in the world, but alas, I found myself demotivated most of the time... well, that's not entirely true, for I have spent more time with family and friends than I normally would have had I been in school, and, hearkening back to an earlier piece, I'm better off living and interfacing with the world than I am sitting and typing quasi-coherent discourses on my computer, not that I do not enjoy the latter.

As I write this, our city is being bludgeoned by a ferocious winter storm that has not relented since morning. I could have heeded the warnings and spent the day alone in my dungeon, but I said to myself "Fuck it! I'm going out!" and bundled up for the cold. I went downtown to the park where I picked litter this summer, thinking of the friend I made there. As much as I miss seeing him, I hoped he wasn't spending the day outside in the storm. I did not see him in the neighbourhood, but I did see many other brave souls bearing the brunt of all Mother Nature threw at us. Today was a great day for a walk, I thought; the kind of day that makes me feel alive. I wanted to bask in the alacrity of the winter storm. I wanted to be punched in the face by its mighty fist. I wanted to rise from this steaming pile of shit I call my comfort zone and experience this. Besides, not all of us are as fortunate as I am to seek shelter from the elements.

As I was walking, I started thinking, which was probably a good thing at the time, as it takes one's mind off being cold and soggy. I thought about this strike that has crippled our university, and whether or not it will ever end. I thought of the war of rhetoric being fought by both sides, wondering which side's argument seems more plausible. You must be wondering, "What's there to wonder?" (I can't believe I used the word "wonder" three times in the span of a line and a half - make that four times in two lines.) "Of course the workers are in the right!" and you would be correct, for I tend to side with the underdog. I agree that not living below the poverty line is not an unreasonable demand, and that the President of the university ought to be careful complaining about a lack of funds when he garners a half-million-dollar salary per annum, his York to the Power of 50 campaign raised roughly 160 million dollars (according to CUPE), and he demands that the university supply him a private car and driver. Still, I wonder if CUPE isn't playing politics, not to take anything away from the striking workers themselves - bless their hearts for making such sacrifices for the betterment of education! - but over the years, CUPE has become a major player in the political arena, complete with a hierarchy of executives. I know others who have and continue to work as members of other unions and have had less than spectacular things to say about them - examples I cite are the tendency for a certain teachers' union to defend a callous, obtuse educator rather than confront the person and seek to rectify the situation, and the tendency for certain unions to order their members as to how they are to cast their vote come election time. I hope someone more knowledgable can correct me on this matter.

I was also thinking about the students who are affected by this work stoppage, particularly those who are incensed they are being short-changed and/or fearful of not graduating on time (I am of the latter category, though I'm not exactly fearful at this point in time). I do not doubt this is a trying time for them, having invested so much into their education, but at the same time, I wonder if people, being so eager to ascertain a degree and move onto "bigger and better things", become willing to acquiesce to the will of the authority who issues said degree. What choice do we have, really? I, along with many others, aspire to attend graduate school starting next year; many of us have become frenetic trying to jump through the series of hoops laid out on the path to this goal, yet how many of us have stopped to question what we are doing? Are we really becoming enlightened, or are we in this for the grades? How will we fare as researchers, having only known how to attain said grades? Do we really need a university to experience "higher learning"? Can't I do the same thing at the library?

Keeping in the spirit of "resistance", I turned my thoughts - only as I began writing this - to the youth uprising in Greece. Last I heard, this isn't simply an isolated incident on a given day in a given locale - no, this has spanned three weeks now in several cities across the country, with little signs of relenting - nor is it simply about the shooting death of fifteen-year-old Alexandros Grigoropoulos at the hands of police, but also high youth unemployment and decaying quality of education (Kaplan, The Atlantic: 2008/12/19) all leading to disenfranchisement. Kaplan concluded his editorial with the following: "Pay close attention to Greece; at a time of world-wide economic upheaval, it might eerily presage disturbances elsewhere in 2009." My feelings on this are mixed: on one hand, I am eagerly awaiting a mass awakening in the face of this mess in which we find ourselves; on the other hand, I fear the consequences of a violent upheval, for no matter how many blows we strike at the establishment, it has the firepower to quash us several times over. Furthermore, what are we really doing when we hurl rocks and flaming bottles of alcohol at cops? What are they doing when they fire tear gas and rubber bullets at us, and beat us down with their truncheons? We're killing each other, that's what, while those pulling the strings sit in their ivory tower constructing machinations to take advantage of the chaos. We're all in this storm together, thus it makes no sense to wail on each other. What happens when the police officer discovers that the people who made off stinking rich after closing the plant/office where her/his spouse once worked are cut from the same cloth as the people who sign her/his pay cheques, that they think nothing of putting this person and her/his colleagues in mortal danger in the name of throwing more people in jail and bolstering the bottom line of the arms manufacturers? I tell you, there won't be a wall of blue anymore.

Walking through this storm made me cogitate the similarities between it and the socio-economic storm we face. Storms of nature can destroy our physical infrastructure, after which we must build anew. Similarly, this grand storm that is ravaging our economy, our society and our very well-being will lay to waste everything in its path. Try as we might to hunker down, ultimately, we will be left to salvage whatever is left and start over. Either we can let it break us and fight each other like mad over whatever crumbs we find, or realize we are all in this together and will get through it much easier by working together. We must cease tearing fissures between each other - administration versus student body, civilians versus authorities, nation versus nation, religion versus religion - because the forces of Nature do not distinguish between any of us: our turmoil only exacerbates their ferocity.

Straight out of Kafka

I'm going to be here all night figuring out how to start this. I spend so much time thinking up ways to seem eloquent, yet usually throw down crap, so I'll just get on with it.

This evening's sonata is dedicated to the Ministry of Health, the Premier of Ontario, the Prime Minister of Canada, and the pharmaceutical industry.

While standing outside the sliding doors to the emergency room with my friend as he lit a cigarette, I suggested to him we invite Michael Moore for a visit to bear witness to what we were seeing before us. If you are familiar with his line of work, Mr. Moore will laud Canada for its "socialized medicine" that allows us to seek medical care without being handed a bill, and rightfully so, for we ought not have to worry about having to pay to get well. The problem is, the people in charge of this system don't seem to be doing a very good job maintaining it, and while each of us has access to care, the care we receive is not exactly praiseworthy. In fact, it is cold and bureaucratic, much like a prison or government office; its patients are not people, but files passed from one bureaucrat to another, while the policy makers who preside over it pop into these institutions once in a while for a photo opportunity and scurry off to their private clinics where they receive the best care money can buy.

I will harken back to this time two years ago when I decided to walk over to the local walk-in clinic because I was not feeling very well. I don't feel the need to delve into minutiae, but I can say I felt like a file the entire time, having been passed from reception to the waiting chair to the doctor to the waiting chair to the lab to the pharmacy each time. That was it: I went to the doctor, and he sent me to the pharmacy, where I had to pony up for the pills that were to make me well again (luckily for me, at the time, I was employed full-time with a fairly extensive health insurance plan, a luxury not everyone has, and those who have it have a tenuous hold on it for fear of being laid off). At one point, I was diagnosed as being hemoglobin-deficient while being prescribed a medicine for gastrointestinal reflux disease that inhibits absorption of iron into the body, iron being sorely needed by someone low in hemoglobin. What happened here? Suffice to say, I have not seen that physician since, though I made it clear I find no fault with him, he being so overwhelmed with the tattered conditions in which he has to work. I just hope he is not content to count his riches.

How much can a doctor possibly do when s/he only sees us for fifteen minutes at a time? None of my sessions with the physician seemed much longer than this length of time - Hell, I spent more time waiting to see him than I did with him - though I hadn't really thought about that aspect until a good friend of mine, a naturopathic doctor, raised it. I, myself, have never been to see a naturopathic doctor - precisely because it is not covered by our "socialized medicine" - but I take her word for it when my friend tells me she has witnessed miracles from its practice. Golly, who'd have thunk that my body was a system, rather than a collection of isolated parts? How is my friend doing, you ask? Well, she has to work two part-time jobs on the side because she hasn't enough patients to pay the rent, and she lacks patients because the Ontario Health Insurance Plan doesn't consider naturopathic and homeopathic approaches "real medicine". If that isn't enough, the national government has tabeled Bill C-51, that appears benevolent on the surface, as it calls for stricter controls on the food industry, but is quite devastating to those employed in and seeking holistic medicine, as it aims to strip naturopathic doctors of "practicioner" status and make a slew of supplements available by prescription only, prescriptions issued only by medical doctors, prescriptions unlikely to be issued over pharmaceuticals.

Okay. Back to my friend and me standing outside the hospital. We were there to support a dear friend of ours who was trying to check herself into psychiatric care because she had lost control of her bipolarity and was plagued by pervasive thoughts of suicide. She spent a total of sixteen hours in emergency before being admitted, during which time, she slept for about two before being rudely awakened by staff who wished to train the hospital's residents on how to use the electrocardiogram - you would think these people would read patients' charts before trying this sort of thing, especially when they are about to wake a patient who has complained of not being able to sleep - and had a hulking male security guard threaten to restrain her because she was sobbing and wished to use the telephone. Once admitted, she called to tell me how cold she felt the staff to be, with a few notable exceptions. Her doctor seemed very helpful, she said, but people like these seem few and far between in this vast loveless labyrinth. From her description, it seems many of the nurses act more like prison guards than care workers. My friend went to the hopsital on her own accord because she needed help, and today, feels it has made her worse.

This is where I normally do the finger-pointing. Whom can we blame? Can anyone be blamed? Can we fault the staff for being trained in a certain manner and given limited resources? Can we blame the doctors for doing the same? How about the upper crust of these hospitals for concerning themselves more with collecting a fat pay cheque than seeing to it that their institutions are in proper working order? Or the politicians in Ontario for agreeing to give themselves a twenty-five-percent pay hike? Or the pharmaceutical industry for ensuring its products are pushed on these people in need? Or we, the people, for allowing all of this to happen? Or those elements who draw our attention away from all of this by painting a superficial picture of society's ills? Quite a nefarious web in which we find ourselves entangled. Where exactly does the fault lie?

I am reminded of a beautiful line from a rhyme by Dead Prez: "we can blame it on the system, but the problem is ours." In other words, we may not have created this horrible mess in which we find ourselves, but it is up to us to act. Time and again, we have waited for policy makers to act for us, and time and again have been disappointed: one side prides itself on universal medicine, yet fails to provide adequate support; the other seeks a system only those with turgid pockets can access. Perhaps it is time to show our policy makers and corporate heads just whose hands make these wheels turn. Perhaps we ought to inject the sterile halls of these ivory towers with love and compassion. Before this can happen, we have to start loving and respecting one another, and we cannot possibly do that by accepting the stereotypes and glib interpretations our media feed us; no, we need to start listening to one another, to our experiences, our feelings, our situations and how we navigate through them. We'll be on our way to getting ourselves out of this mess by opening our eyes and ears to what is transpiring around us: we can't find the solution when we don't understand the problem, can we?

The cannons will fall silent, and no one shall kneel before them anymore.

Today is a day of remembrance for the fourteen female students shot to death at the École Polytechnique de Montréal nineteen years ago. Today is a day of reflection on our past sins so that we not repeat them, of the harsh realities faced by women at the hands of the men who seek to dominate them. Today is a day of solemn remonstration against the use of violent means, not only upon women, but anyone.

Today, I was reminded we have a mountain of work to do.

For those who may not be aware, there is a candlelight vigil this evening in downtown Toronto at 18:00 - see www.womenwontforget.org for particulars. In the interest of generating awareness for this event, I posted this information on a local message board only to be met with some of the most appalling remarks in rebuttal. Sure, their comments seemed petty and juvenile - these were various "woman" jokes plucked on female efficacy from the web - but having more of an appreciation for the experiences of womanhood now than I did but a few years ago, I cannot easily let said comments slide, especially on a day such as this. Most arresting, I found, was a comment saying something along the lines of "Domestic abuse: so she doesn't have to be told twice." I cannot find the words to describe how unsettling it was to read this.

Even more bewildering was the lack of defense from female users in this particular forum - I received one response from a young woman who admonished my raising serious issues in a forum frequented by so many immature people bent on satisfying an insatiable need to crap all over anything and everything. While she raised a valid point, I cannot condone silence because it means this so-called "immaturity" will prevail. Secondly, I question whether this is due to "immaturity" on the part of these users for two reasons: one, the respondents in question are all of legal voting age, thus they are endowed with the responsibility of selecting our government, though one might argue that said responsibility doesn't necessarily advance an individual across the "maturity" threshold (whatever that may be), which brings me to the second reason, that these remarks are made by men of all ages, so are these grown men "immature"? is there such a thing as "maturity"? is the need for brutal dominion simply a sign of "immaturity"? (This makes me wonder why certain political parties can win elections so easily.)

I don't know what else to say on the matter at hand. I don't want to believe this world to be a fetid shit hole because of the feelings of a select few, but these feelings are alarmingly quotidian. Just the other day, on the same message board, a male user posted photographs of the "Eye Candy of the Year", shortly after Mr. Sean Avery told the world how fellow National Hockey League players had a tendency to fall in love with his "sloppy seconds". In the past, I have read diatribes on how a lack of female accomplishments in the philosophical, entrepreneurial, political and scientific realms over time proves women to be inferior to men. Day after day, I see television shows and advertisements and music videos limn women as fuck puppets.

Worst of all, so few of seem to have a clue as to what we are doing.

Is this how we treat our mothers, the women who held us in their wombs, brought us into this world and nurtured us as we learned to navigate through it? (Actually, I personally know people who do.) Is this how we treat our sisters and our teachers? Is this the way we treat the women with whom we fall in love and wish to share our lives? This young man executed these fourteen women for the sole reason that they were women, and when we crack wise in a pejorative manner towards women, we martyr this individual. It's little wonder why we worry about our wives when they venture out by themselves, and become protective of our sisters when they enter high school and are accosted by boys: we created this world, we perpetuate it, so it is up to us to end it.

This event goes beyond what transpired nineteen years ago today. Wars abound globally, in which women are systematically raped and murdered. This is a day to remember what happened in Montréal not simply for its own sake, but to reinforce within everyone the mess in which we find ourselves on account of ourselves, and beget a world in which violence is not a means by which we solve our problems. This is a day to abandon, once and for all, the absurd notion that "might makes right", for it serves only to foment more ire.

Men, if have no plans on attending any sort of vigil today, there is still something you can do. You can sit and reflect on the women in your lives - past, present, future - and cogitate the numerous ways they have enriched them. You can spend time with your wife or girlfriend or mother or sister or friend and appreciate how much these people matter to you. You can stop yourself from uttering that derogatory comment about women to impress your male friends; better yet, you can stop them from doing the same. If they chide you for being "soft" or a "pussy", never mind them; it takes much greater strength to do what is right than ensconce yourself in wrong for the sake of saving face. After all, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." (Matthew 5:5).

Some argue we've come a long way in advancing the rights of women. Perhaps this is true on the surface, but so long as we continue to harbour the feelings highlighted in this entry, these so-called advances are but mere window dressing. It's terribly easy to point fingers at "others" for their treatment of women - male chauvinists declaring war on Islam in the name of women's rights left me bewildered, to say the least - perhaps because we fear venturing within ourselves for the very reason that we will find the same monster. Perhaps this monster within each of us may never truly be vanquished, but if we don't know it's there, how can we curb its awesome power? We owe it to ourselves and each other to do so, especially the women in our lives who have given us so much in such harsh social climes.

Mahalo.

Covenant House and fear-mongering

Covenant House's work is laudatory, as it does wonders for homeless youth. That being said, I'm a bit perturbed by its recent series of advertisments on the TTC:



I apologize for it being so dark; 'twas the best I could do with the equipment I have.

As I was saying, I am perturbed by Covenant House's depiction of street dwellers as monsters waiting to swallow our children whole. Even more unsettling is the depiction of the Black man, who has been assigned a gaze halfway between Mongoloid and Murderer.

Suffice to say, I expected a bit more compassion from Covenant House when raising awareness of the perils of street life; instead, I find dehumanization fit for mainstream media.

If you can't see the photograph and are wondering to what I am referring, next time you are on the subway, keep your eyes open for Covenant House advertising.

Fear not, friends; everything is fine.

With all this time on my hands, you'd think I'd be spitting out entry after meandering entry. Alas, I did not expect to be away from this thing for three weeks. I suppose I have some catching up to do, though my weekly horoscope did say diatribing (is there such a verb?) online is a futile exercise, so perhaps my absence wasn't all that bad.

Let's see. What has happened since my last entry? The automotive sector has gone to complete shit and its workers were subsequently blamed for it, 200 people tragically lost their lives in Mumbai and now fingers are being pointed at "terrorists", the Canadian government is on the verge of collapse while the Prime Minister desperately clings to his perceived power, and the strike at York is almost through its fourth week with little sign of ending anytime soon because the University seems more committed to "binding arbitration" than actual negotiation. Give me an opportunity, and I could talk ad infinitum about each, but I have something else on my mind.

I want to talk about a professional hockey player.

Sean Avery, forward for the Dallas Stars of the National Hockey League, a man renowned for his ability to root himself in the collective consciousness of his opponents with his aggressive play and fast tongue, landed himself in some trouble this week by sharing some choice words about one Dion Phaneuf, against whom he is due to play, and his girlfriend Elisha Cuthbert, the latter being the ex-girlfriend of the aforementioned Mr. Avery:

"I just want to comment on how it's become like a common thing in the NHL for guys to fall in love with my sloppy seconds. I don't know what that's about. Enjoy the game tonight."(TSN.ca)

Reactions to his quip were, as you may have guessed, not all that supportive. Executives, players and pundits alike chided his conduct, deemed "detrimental to the league and the game of hockey" and unbecoming of a "team guy".

That's all well and good, but where is the outcry over the chauvinistic nature of his remark? Does Mr. Avery say these sorts of things about his mother, or his sister (provided he has one), or his own betrothed? Are the women in his life nothing more than "sloppy seconds"? Should he even have a betrothed, seeing as how he seems to view women as mere fuck toys?

That being said, will anyone in the National Hockey League or on the sports channels decry this exhibition of machismo? Growing up an avid hockey player and having heard the kind of talk that transpires in the locker room - and, sadly, having been consumed by it myself - I'm unlikely to hedge my bet on this outcome. This is the very reason why I cannot fault Sean Avery for his latest foible; as such, I feel his suspension to be rather hypocritical of an organization who panders to the "macho male". It seems the only crime Mr. Avery committed was revealing to the world what most of us men think regularly. Does he draw the ire of the league because his comment is hurtful and demeaning, or rather because he inadvertently left the door to the old boys' club unlocked? Oddly enough, as a consequence, I wonder how many salutes Sean Avery will receive among male fans who take pleasure in dehumanizing women.

I almost forgot... something else happened on which I wish to comment, also in the realm of sports. I want to talk about a professional football player.

One Plaxico Burress, star wide receiver for the New York Giants of the National Football League, the man who caught the ball for the touchdown that defeated the mighty New England Patriots in the Greatest Distraction on Earth, accidentally shot himself in the leg with a pistol he was brandishing in a nightclub. It turns out the gun was not registered, so Mr. Burress is facing some potential jail time for this little incident. The mayor of New York City, Michael Bloomberg, demands this young man be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, regardless of his celebrity status.

Remember the old ditty we sang as children, the one that went, "One of these things just doesn't belong"? Well, I see at least two things wrong with this story. First is the matter of the lack of registration on the handgun, which, in all honesty, ought to be a moot point; why do we not ask why he has a pistol with him in the first place? Last year, two players in the National Football League were shot to death; you would think their colleagues might have learned the perils of gun violence and took it upon themselves to cast the weapons aside, so why does this young man feel the need to arm himself when heading out on the town, or anywhere, for that matter? Come to think of it, why does anyone feel the need to keep a loaded firearm on hand, period? Does it matter that the gun has papers? Should we have them? The poor guy shot himself in the leg, for fuck's sake! What if you sat at home with your pistol, it fires, and your child is struck dead? Are we meant to wield such power?

Second, I can't help but ask myself what Michael Bloomberg would say had it been Eli Manning, the White quarterback, who was nabbed with a pistol; better yet, how would Mr. Bloomberg feel had his own child accidentally shot her/himself in the leg with an unregistered firearm? "But that's absurd!" you might retort, "what on Earth are you insinuating? That race has something to do with his reaction?" Quite possibly. I did spend last summer in a laboratory that investigates implicit prejudices we all harbour, so why would it be absurd to believe Michael Bloomberg to be exhibiting similar behaviour? Furthermore, what happened to Barry Switzer, former head coach of the Dallas Cowboys (and a White man), when he was apprehended at the airport for carrying a loaded handgun in his travel bag? "I swear, I forgot the gun was in there! I didn't want the kids to find it!" Would that excuse fly if his face wasn't White?

That's all from me this evening. I suppose I might have better served everyone by offering my thoughts on the real issues listed atop this entry, rather than opting for a journey through fantasy land. In my defense, there comes a time when, much like with everything else we see through our multimedia, one must remove the glitzy veneer from this grand fantasy and reveal its festering underbelly.

Fear not, friends; everything is fine. We're still alive and well, yes?