And we call it "democracy"

Last week I got my second opinion letter posted in the campus newspaper. It was a response to the following article written a few days earlier:

Disappointing their cynical doubters yet again, millions of Iraqis took part in the Constitutional referendum on Oct. 15. Iraq, while still largely a work in progress, continued in its quest to become the region’s second democracy.

Oct. 15 served as a show-and-tell for the Iraqi security forces, who directed and led all major operations (coalition forces only played a supporting role). The results were impressive with more than three quarters of the population voting to approve the Constitution.

Iraqis showed the world that despite threats and death they will not be subdued by thugs and murderers. This encouraging development stands as more evidence that the insurgency is weakening and can be defeated if the will to continue remains. The Bush administration’s strategy of “As Iraqis stand up, the coalition will stand down” is clearly paying dividends.

The United States is 229 years old and still a work in progress. Canada is 138 and still a work in progress. Democracy is precious and, as Iraq’s experience is demonstrating, can be tenuous as well. But freedom is worth time and effort. Britain believes it’s worth it, as does the United States and 33 other nations. There are two sides in this reality: terror and regression or freedom and progress. Iraqis are with us; they voted for that which they have never known: liberty and the way forward.

It is sad to say Canada remains absent from this historic moment. If we choose not to support Iraqis, then by our indifference, exactly whom are we supporting?

D. Eric Sayers
President, Campus Coalition for Democracies UWO
Leith R.A. Coghlin
Chair, Campus Coalition for Democracies UWO

After reading that tripe, I simply had to respond. This "either you're with us or against us" mentality is so primitive and useless, it's amazing people still believe that it holds true. I had hell of alot more to say about the issue, but this is what I came up with for the paper:

I’d like to propose a round of applause for Eric Sayers and Leith Coghlin. They’ve bought into everything that they were sold about Iraq and the great freedom they’ve been given. They said that Canadians should’ve supported the US in Iraq along with those 34 other countries, but as an intelligent Canadian with a conscience, I’m forced to disagree.

It sounds wonderful that “more than three quarters of the [Iraqi] population” voted to approve the new constitution, but if you look at the fact that only 63% of eligible voters actually voted, the true number of people in the eligible voting population that truly agree with the constitution turns out to be less than 50%. And allegations of fraud within the vote aren’t far fetched at all when you look at the stats. In some areas 99% of the vote was “yes”. But serious allegations of officials simply taking away and destroying entire boxes of “no” votes must be considered. Hardly democratic if you ask me.

Which brings me to a point about the standard of democracy that we hold so high. In actuality the US is a plutocracy, not a democracy. In a democratic society the people have the power. In the US that power has been usurped and twisted to suit the needs of a few, who remain in office by convincing the people that they have control of the country. Isn’t it odd that the country is run by a man who actually lost in his first election?

So it makes you wonder how this “democracy” can be trusted to force the rule of the people upon a foreign land, doesn’t it? I think it’s fair to say that more than a few Canadians agree with the 157 other countries in the world that didn’t join the US in Iraq. And as we read earlier, the US and Canada are works in progress. Funny how arrogant we are; to believe that we have the insight necessary to influence other nations, yet when we look in the mirror we can’t help but avert our eyes. Assuming we even bother to look in the mirror in the first place.

Travis Brooke-Bisschop
Medical Sciences III

Unfortunately this actually isn't what was printed in the paper. You can find the edited version here. Some of it doesn't make a whole lot of sense (as some key points were left out) but what can ya do?

Now I wait to see if there's any backlash...

Operation Comeback

As you might have guessed, I frequent Matt Good's blog fairly often. It's a good way for me to keep updated on world events, Iraq news, and human rights issues. Not to mention intelligent insights on the world we live in.

But the other day a strange thing happened, as an American soldier left a comment on Matt's site that indicated he was going to commit suicide. He'd just returned from Iraq and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. He then found out that while he was away in the Middle East, his wife had an affair with another man.
Imagine that eh? Fighting a war for oil while your sweetheart is fucking some other guy. While this soldier was dodging bullets, his wife's only fear was being found out. (To be fair, she probably did fear that her husband might never return home from Iraq. Strange way of dealing with it though...) Raw deal for any man, or woman for that matter.

Anyway, as it turns out, the US military doesn't do much for soldiers with PTSD that jives with them returning to "normal" life back home. This guy felt so alone that he actually cried out on a website for help. And as it turns out, the technicians that run the Mblog were able to track down this man and get him some help.

Since then, Matt and his team have established a site for distraught soldiers, and not just those from the United States military. It's just barely operational right now, but can be found at www.operationcomeback.com.

And you can't help but respect what has come from this situation.

A life was essentially saved, and a forum for soldiers of all backgrounds has been established to help people from any part of the globe.

Stuff like this makes you think there's still hope for this world.

I don't mean to be racist, but...

The other night a few friends and I hit the bar for what was supposed to be a fairly lightweight night of drinking. As it turns out a few of the boys got pretty loaded, but that's not what I wanna write about.

The thing that annoyed me (and the other guys) was the moocher in the washroom who wanted our money. If you're a guy you know what I'm talking about, but if you're a girl I bet you don't. Apparently only males get fleeced by this type of thing.

Of course I'm talking about the black guy who stands there to watch you piss. Once you're done, he first gets the taps for you, making sure the water is nice and warm (in reality he'll probably scald or freeze your hands, depending on your luck.) Then he'll hand you paper towels to dry yourself with, and follows that up by offering you one of a dozen types of colognes.


And we're supposed to give him money to do this. Things that we're entirely capable of doing ourselves, but we're expected to pay for nonetheless. Even if you tell him you're alright and don't need any help, he'll force his services upon you.

Now you may have noticed that I mentioned that this dude was black. I've seen this type of thing more than a few times, and every single time it's been a black guy. And I'm convinced this is no mistake. Not even fucking close to being a mistake.

It's as if society is expected to feel bad for black people, so they implant an unnecessary service into the economy to balance things out. But things in Canada are pretty balanced as they stand for people from all corners of the world, which is why I take offense to this type of bullshit. You never see an Asian, Hispanic, or Caucasian guy essentially begging for quarters in the john. I bet that black guy at TJ's the other night had a decent job and a pretty good education too.

Alot of people get uncomfortable with this type of thing, which explains why none of us wanted to go piss more than once at the bar. Generally, nobody wants to be watched in a washroom, let alone feel an obligation to pity someone else while they're in there.

So I propose that if ever you see one of these guys in the pisser, don't pay a dime. Because if we all withhold our pity and see the whole thing as a cherade, sooner or later these guys will pack up their shit. Once the well is bled dry, they're not gonna stick around for too long.

They'll probably just find some new way to convince us they deserve our money, because of all the wrongs that were done upon Afro-Americans in the past. So keep an eye for that too, and don't toss a coin in that cup either.

We've got no war to name us

Another Remembrance Day come and gone. And it seems that every year that goes by, we take less time to reflect on what the day really stands for.
Every year there seems to be fewer and fewer poppies around town.
People wear them on their bags, their hats, and on the right side of their jackets.
They don't seem to know (or care) that we wear them over our hearts for a reason.
Fewer people care to take a moment of silence, or to sit alone and contemplate the realities of war and freedom.
Every year we seem to take the lessons and sacrifices of the past for granted.
We feel that we deserve our freedoms and dreams, mainly because we've never been in a situation where these "given's" were threatened.


And let's be fair, the past two generations of the West have had no war to define them.
It's getting harder and harder to find veterans even from the Second World War. And if memroy serves me well, I think there's less than a dozen World War I veterans left in the whole of Canada.
So it's not surprising that we have no frame of reference here.

And personally, I find it frustrating to hear people talk in bold terms, such as, "I remember", "I appreciate all that was given for my generation", or "Life is precious; war is hell."

Just because we may take one day out of the year to reflect on all that we have and all that was lost, that doesn't mean we're not guilty of taking the other 364 days of the year for granted. We're all guilty of self-involvement.

Nobody can really claim that "they remember" something that they've never seen; noone can claim to be grateful for the great sacrifices of the past while they complain about the minor inconveniences of the modern West; and talking about war itself is something that should be reserved for people who know the realities of the world, not those who've seen a few too many war movies from the comfort of their homes.

All this talk almost makes you wanna join the army, doesn't it?

Then again, it makes me wanna take all the weapons in the world and hurl them into the sun. (Superman-style)

the following was found on a toronto subway car

To Whoever Finds This,

By the time you get through this first sentence you may find yourself compelled to throw this piece of paper back onto the ground and continue on with your own life. Nevertheless, something told you to pick up this dirty piece of paper in the first place. Because of this, I ask you to read on.

It's a beautiful world, they tell me. It's funny, though, because no one really believes it when they say it. We idolize the great truths: love, knowledge, and self-actualization. The problem is that we're too scared to face them when we are confronted with them. We don't want to be alone but when we encounter a stranger we feel the need to quicken our pace. Someone does something nice for us and all we can be is suspicious of their motives. There' poison in the Halloween candy. There's rape drug in your champagne tonight. There's a terrorist in your economics class. There's a gun in his pocket. He'll aim at you.

I am so fucking tired of being scared and ineffective. We can't blame ourselves, though. The question we really need to ask is how any intelligent Creator could have let us fall so far? Every animal has some sort of defense mechanism to help protect them (speed, strength, poison). So where is ours? Oh Right! We have intelligence; intelligence that fails us when we require it. What can I do here but curl up into the fetal position and surrender to terror: scream, cry, call for mother, stay in my room, wear a tinfoil helmet to protect my thoughts from aliens and brace for impact? The most fucked up thing about this is that we are truly scared of is being afraid: the nausea, the shiver up our spines, the breathlessness. Have you ever noticed that in every terror movie some stupid idiot of a woman falls when she's running away from the axe murderer? Well, stop making fun of her because that could be you. Then we have the audacity to name people heroes who don't revert into infancy in the face of danger.

I may be cynical. I may be a self-hating human being but, for the life of me, I can't be satisfied with this hypocrisy. We are scared to be loved, but also scared to commit. We hate dark alleys, but we like scary movies. We tell our kids everyone makes mistakes - nobody's perfect. Then we go out to the surgeon and get some Botox pumped into the creases in our foreheads because we're scared of not being perfect. We teach them to be giving and they come back to us wondering why the old lady swatted at them when they tried to help her cross the street. Try telling me that you aren't scared of the man sitting across from you on the train right now. Thank God there are all these other people around, right? But tell me that you wouldn't be scared to be alone with any ONE of those other people. I dare you to make eye contact with them. I dare you to say hello and observe the looks on their faces. I promise you that you'll find yourself looking at someone who is startled. Even afraid. Ask them how their day went but don't expect them to give you more than one word in return. Let's not lie. You would be scared too if you saw yourself staring at you from across the aisle or standing down a dark alley. Welcome to the human race, baby! Have you ever felt so welcomed?

Only Lonely (because we choose to be)

It's easy to fall asleep under the stars when you're alone. Unless, that is, you remember all the times you weren't by yourself on a clear night like this.
It's always the memory that gets you.
Maybe another swig of booze will dull the memories, let's give it a try.
Nope, no better.
Maybe a pill? What is this shit anyway? They tell you what it is, but who really knows with that type of dude. Could be anything really. Who cares, don't take it.

Isn't it funny how some days no matter what you try, you just feel the same?
You listen to a mellow song to calm yourself down, but you're just too damn full of life.
You talk to an old friend to cheer yourself up, but you still feel like you've got pins and needles in your heart.
Don't move.
It always hurts more when you move.
Just try to fall asleep.

If you pretend to fall asleep noone will ever suspect otherwise. And if you pretend for long enough, you're bound to fall asleep for real.
At least that's the idea.

But on a night like this it never works.
Your brain's on the Autobahn and someone's cut the brakes.
Maybe it was your heart.
That sneaky bastard always pulls shit like this.
And it's always with impeccable timing.

I'm looking for that star we called our own so long ago.
If only I had a gun I'd shoot it right out of the sky.
I didn't mean that, I apologize.
It's just sad to think that that little speck in oblivion will never die.

The same can't be said for what was once between you and I.
Crying shame, I usually keep my promises in life.
And I usually expect the same from others.
Some people don't take such things to heart.
Not me.
I feel like a fraud whenever my promises dissolve.
I wish everyone did.
I bet the world would be a better place that way, cuz guilt can be a potent ally.
Trust me.

I can feel a warm breeze blowing in, which is a little odd for this time of year.
But I can't complain, it can be cold with noone out here to warm you up.

It's hard to take your eyes off the stars. Even blinking feels like a bastardization of sorts.
It's kinda like starting into a book, then missing all the important parts.
Then the tale turns into some sort of miscarried jumble of ideas.

The air's starting to get heavy.
You gotta love that feeling. Kinda like some invisible blanket being lazily tossed over your bones.
That last line sounds like something a naive 10th grader would write in some fucking poetry class to impress a girl that's way out of his league.
Pure bullshit.
Contrived and forced.
I'm amazed such tripe is tolerated here.
Come to think of it, all that's been said tonight is worthy of the dirtiest trash can you can find.

Clouds have just rolled in.
One by one the stars are fading and the night's becoming mundane, just like any other.
I'd better get home before the rain comes. I can smell it in the distance.

Just as I stand, I'm overcome by the strangest of sights.
To my surprise, there seems to be thousands of us out here in this field.
I've no idea how they all got here, I must be wasted.
There's gotta be a dozen people not a stone's throw away.
They all seem to be getting up to depart, just like me.

But the curious fact is not that they are all out here tonight.
It's the fact that every single one of them is alone.

And that, friends, is unbridled irony.

Yeah motherfucker we're number one, all outta beer so go get your gun

A few weeks back (on Sept 23rd) I wrote a drunken post after taking an online survey, which is something I rarely do. Anyway, I try my best to avoid posting drunken rants, so I saved it as a draft copy to come back to.

I finally get to it now because a strange thing happened the other day as I was surfing my blogroll. It happened when I hit Matt Good's blog, and I saw that he had taken the very survey that I had just done. (I think he posted about it on the 3rd of October.)

And wouldn't you know it, we both got the exact same result. Check out his result here.

It was one of those things that sends a chill down your spine. No wonder I like the dude so much, we seem to be on the same wavelength.

Anyway, here's my original post from September (slightly edited):

My roommate asked me the other day where I stood on the political spectrum. I told him I didn't really know, which was weird to say. I've voted Liberal everytime I had the chance just to keep the Conservatives out of office. But despite my criticism of many people and positions, I've rarely considered exactly where I stand.

So I took this stupid online survey dealie today that told me I was a Socialist. Whatever the fuck that means.

The one question in the survey that struck me as odd went something like this: "The lives of several foreign people are worth a single American life."

An I can't help but ask... what the fuck?!?!?!!??!

Considering several thousand 'foreigners' have been killed just to fill up Joe-American's gas tank, what do you think the average American would say?

For those that would respond "no", I think they're ignorant of the facts, and they're probably lying to themselves so they can go to bed in their Ultramatic and sleep a little better.

More disturbing is the consideration that there are people out there who answer that question with a patriotic HELL YEAH! Following that, they'd likely go shoot off their guns down by the football stadium, or perhaps near a barn. Because after all, what screams America like shooting off a gun.

Ooh Sinner Man! (Nina Simone)

I am not a fan of George W. Bush.
In fact, I pretty much hate the man.
The world would be a much better (dare I say, safer) place if he was never born. Or, more importantly, if he wasn't elected into the White House twice by the "majority" of the American people.
But it's hard to blame just one man for all the problems of the current world, considering that if he wasn't there, it would just be a different evil fuckhead bent on world domination and control.

Now we all know W is a religious man (or at least exploits religion for his own gains). He's even claimed that he was chosen by God to lead the world in democracy etc, etc...
Nonetheless, I have found a way to explain why this man will be sent to hell.

So with out further adieu -

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS OF GEORGE W BUSH
(in increasing order of severity, as is customary)


1. Lust: Though happily married, GWB is only human. He's got urges and needs that must be satisfied, like any other man. And seeing as he travels the world alot, he has great opportunities to hit up the foreign booty. Chinese, Australian, Russian, Brazilian, Indian, Spanish, German!!! He can pick up ladies anywhere, but for some reason he seems the like the Brits the most...






2. Gluttony: The man has quite the appetite in reality. He's been on a diet for years, and pretty much every single press photo or video you see has been digitally altered. He's actually 352 pounds at present, but he looks like a trim 175! Modern technology wins again! Apparently he also like the taste of the common kitten, I don't know what that's all about.




3. Greed: Not a whole lot needs to be said here. He gets neck-deep in shit yet manages to escape by *gasp* buying his way out of trouble! Money and connections lead to more money and more connections. He's got more money than anyone truly needs. Crooked bastards deserve to go to hell. Especially when they're bathing in dollar bills, all the while with blood dripping from their hands.







4. Sloth: Recent events have only further exposed the truth that W is a lazy motherfucker. He always seems to be sitting around doing diddly-squat when he's needed most. Remember watching him on his ranch before 9/11? That's when he shoulda been working, aand possibly saving America from those plane crashes. Remember when he sat there after the first plane crashed? Listening to that simpleton reading that stupid book? Meanwhile he shoulda been takin' care o' bizness and organizing the government. And remember when those poor black people were wading around in waist-deep water in New Orleans? Well just look at the pic and you can see what he was doing...

5. Wrath: Little Georgie doesn't like alot of things. He doesn't like people who blow things up in America. He doesn't like people who have abortions (sidenote: HE SUPPORTS THE FUCKING DEATH PENALTY!!! if that doesn't scream idiocy and hypocrisy, I don't know what does). He doesn't like people who have more oil, money or power than him. He doesn't like people who don't support his ideals. And all of this anger leads him to drop bombs on innocent people. Anger leads to hate. And hate leads to suffering. It also leads to hell, fucker. Have a nice trip.

6. Envy: Bush is just plain jealous of people with oil. If you have it, he wants it. And he'll do just about anything to get it. Not a very redeeming quality for the leader of such a super country!









7. Pride: This one links up to sin #2 in a way, as he always wants to look better than he actually does. It goes for just more than appearances, he wants the paperwork to look good too! And don't even mention fairness in the media, as the truth would make him look like someone bound for rejection at the pearly gates. Also, he probably seems himself as some sort of "god"; better than most people; deserving of the world. And this fucking patriotism is enough to make me sick.




All of the above + the reality of the world = GWB goes to hell

He might as well just give up and accept his future. That back sweat looks mighty nasty, and it only gets worse with the lakes of lava and sharp rock and such.
Have a pleasant flight.





If you wanna do something interesting, type "worst president ever" into the Google search. I've saved you the trouble cuz I know how lazy you are, you sloth-ing bastards. Check it out HERE.
I think that's very a telling result.

A joke from Big Al

Donald Rumsfeld is giving the president his daily briefing.

He concludes by saying: "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed."

"OH NO!" the President exclaims. "That's terrible!"

His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits, head in hands.

Finally, the President looks up and asks, "How many is a brazillion?"

Introvert to Extrovert

This summer I had a conversation with a friend about the movie The Beach. (If you haven't seen it, it's worth a watch)

It wasn't so much the movie itself, but the idea of abandoning your everyday life in search of something more. Just pack up some shit and leave for some distant shore.

We were discussing the idea, and I brought up the question, "Do you think you could do it? Just leave everything and everyone you've ever known to go on some adventure, maybe never to return?"

She seemed surprised that my answer was "yes".

(In all reality it would never happen. I have my obligations, my friends, family, possessions, yada yada... )

But in a deeper way I completely think I could do it, given the right circumstances. I've never (in my post-childhood years) felt completely at home anywhere. It's not that I don't fit in, or that I'm necessarily unhappy where I am, but it's always seemed that I belonged somewhere else. Even at this moment, as I sit in front of this screen in the wee hours of the morning, I'm thinking of all the places in the world that I could be. It's as if my everyday life is below my standards, but there's no way to get out.

So I imagine packing up a bag of essentials, emptying my bank account into my wallet, and leaving. No goodbye note, no forwarding address, no trace.

Nothing.

I'd travel where the wind blew me, preferably off this continent. I'd work shitty jobs just to get by, and live every single day as if I was planning on dying that night. I'd fall in love for a week, fuck the girl silly, then pack up and leave. No remorse, no regrets. After all, I'd never go back to that place, so what's the difference? Then it's onto a new place.
I'd live like I've always wanted to. I'd say whatever I wanted, do whatever I pleased, then hit the road again. The world would be what I made it, instead of me being what the world had shaped. Time would be meaningless. I'd sleep all day with no responsibilities and swim in the ocean every night.

It would be just fucking grande! Freedom in the most fundamental sense of the word.

But the one part of this story that must be addressed is where does it all end?

At the end of the movie Leo returns to the real world, as true paradise was unattainable. And I suppose I'd come back too. Living day by day probably isn't all it's cracked up to be (just ask a street kid) and I'd need to come back to my friends/family/life again.

And I'd probably miss my cd collection too much.