Sunday, November 25, 2007

Don't throw your junk in my backyard...

Stephen Harper is either exceptionally bright or increasingly stupid when it comes to pollution.

Climate change is this century's witch-hunt. The majority of the population wants to see some results in the environmental department and Harper has decided not to step up to the plate unless he's got the global team backing him.

We will not agree to a framework that binds some countries and not others because that is a recipe for failure on the issue of climate change. We already have a protocol like that and it doesn't work. We need a protocol that involves everyone.”

So either Stevey doesn't really want to see any change in carbon emissions and he's just looking out for Canada's corporate interests. Or he's made a smart move by not putting Canada out on a limb by itself.

I offer a third option...

Canada wants to become more eco-friendly. Everywhere I turn there's reports of global warming, fear about oil prices and talk of how Alberta is going to turn into a wasteland.

If Stevey likes to strongarm other commonwealth countries to join the cause, we should start cleaning up our own backyard while he's speaking and show the world that it's not so scary. It's hard work, but with the right attitude and a little ambition Canada can come out clean.

Why not become a global trend-setter while at the same time putting pressure on countries like India to become more green?

There's no reason Harper can't get what he wants while giving Canadians what they need.

And why is our PM more concerned about India than Canada?

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Triage trauma...

At around 12:30am today, my gallbladder decided to tell me something was wrong. It was very vocal.

It kind of triggered a series of events inside me that I'm not going to get into. What's important to know is that it was the worst pain I'd ever suffered. Even worse than when I scraped off half of my face in a bicycling accident as a kid.

By the time I'd vacated my stomach several times I'd realized the pain was only getting worse, so I went to the hospital.

I was too busy trying to get help to see the sign telling me that the average wait would be six hours.

In my severely pained state I lurched around the waiting room. Not knowing what was wrong with me I would sit and groan, clutching my guts. I've never experienced pain like that and no one was helping me.

A triage nurse let me have my own room to lie down in the dark and I would listen to the nurses joke and discuss daily events while I sat there, lay there or staggered around the room in a delerious state.

By my vague calculations, it was seven hours before I saw a doctor who gave me morphine which lasted a good 30 minutes before the groaning started back up again.

SEVEN HOURS of passing out from pain only to wake up realizing that it was ME making those horrible noises while triage nurses shot the shit by the water cooler.

It was about another seven hours until I got out of there, feeling somewhat better, but still very sore. And that was after the nurse admitted she forgot about me and the doctor telling me he was wondering where I was.

14 hours total. Seven of which I was in agony.

I guess people don't really know how bad our health care is until they experience the worst of it.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Manly man...

The cultural studies section of Chapters always lures me in. It's my favourite section and I always find something I want. But I'm always disappointed by their gender studies area.

Women's studies is first (don't read too much into that. I'm not complaining about which gender's section is more prominently displayed) and there are all sorts of books that empower, educate, study and basically revolve around women. And why shouldn't there be? It's what the section is there for. So big ups to women. Rah rah rah.

Right before the gay & lesbian shelf is male studies. (Don't read too much into that, either. I'm not homophobic and I'm glad there's a GLBT section in major bookstores. Rah rah rah.)

What worried me is that the male studies section had a total of three titles on it's single shelf. Spreading Mysandry, Legalizing Misandry, (misandry being defined as "the hatred of men") and taking up a whole two-thirds of the male section was a book called The Game - Penetrating the secret society of pickup artists, by Neil Strauss.

Two things immediately struck me about this book:

The clever use of the word "penetrating" on the cover of a book about guys getting laid,

And the fact that The Game is designed to look like a bible, gold foiled pages and all.

I suppose if I were 16 again, I would consider that book a sort of Holy Grail. I'd read it religiously trying to figure women out when really, it's best to just figure yourself out and look out to the world instead of trying to figure out what the world sees when it looks back in at you.

So, according to Chapters, men only care about getting laid and they are also very hated.

Just because women are regarded as being more "complicated" than men (whatever that means) doesn't mean we wouldn't like to see a few books helping to explain us to ourselves. Where do men turn to when we have questions about what it means to be a man?

Am I a man just for having a dick? Or is it something else entirely? I want to know more thoughts about masculinity from both men and women. I'd like to know what masculinity means to a gay man, or listen an old man debating masculinity with a young man.

What about a black man, or a Japanese man? Do they have radically different views on masculinity?

Why are men on TV consistently portrayed as blundering idiots? And who creates a word like misandry to describe the hatred for an entire gender?

Either I wasn't looking hard enough for male-culture books, or Chapters is showing me that equal rights has to be earned by both sides.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Dear Stephane Dion...

Every time I see you, it looks like you're either going to cry or apologize.

I know, it's because of us media people always giving you flak. But come on, it's not entirely our fault. Politics are so boring sometimes. Especially when the leader of the opposition doesn't really do a good job of opposing. Or leading for that matter.

You're getting shot at from every angle and it must really suck.

But don't worry. I've come up with an ingenious plan.

For the small payment of my OSAP loan, I will let you punch me in the face in a media scrum on Parliament Hill.

Just hear me out, Steph. Can I call you Steph?

Listen Stephy,

This works on so many levels. First off, I need the money. OSAP's a bitch, and you could really show some support for students by punching me in the face. Maybe not on the level you think, but really, it works out.

Also, this can show Canadians that you're not the pussy they think you are. For one shining moment you can prove that you're a man, and you're not afraid of a little confrontation. I'm pretty sure I'm a lot bigger than you and this would make the Tories think twice the next time they joke about you in front of the nation.

Plus, this would put you up there with other great liberal reporter bashers like Chretien and, dare I say it, Trudeau. It could be your shining and defining moment!

I bet you'd even really LIKE to punch out a reporter too. What politician wouldn't from time to time? I know I would, and I'm one of them. No one will blame you, especially if I ask a ridiculously infuriating question, like; "Who makes you feel prettier when you're biting a pillow, Harper or Layton?" And then, *POW!* Right in the chops.

As my part of the bargain, I promise not to duck or retaliate from ONE punch to anywhere on my face of your choosing. I will also collapse into a pile on the floor of Parliament and do my best to either cry, pass out or run away in terror. We can also try cutting Chretien himself in on this to hold you back for effect.

You'd need to commit on this though. You can't punch me and then start whimpering. A string of curses en francais would be fantastic. Hell, for a few extra bucks you can spit on me!

All I'm asking is for you to think about punching me in the face, because if you don't, everyone else will be slapping yours for the rest of your career.