Urban Ichthyosapien

Things I Want This Year

2011-09-04T15:17:00.000-04:00

For various reasons this year, the mermaid is going minimal. That's never helpful with a birthday coming up, because that's when gifts start to materialize out of wherever. So without much adieu, here is a list of things I would much rather have than knickknacks and doodads:

A baby elephant or a rhino (or both! they can play together!)
This is one of the best-run, most successful animal rescue operations in Africa and my heart goes out to these animals who are often orphaned when their parents are shot and mutilated by poachers. Drought also leaves many small elephants homeless and helpless. If you’re going to get me anything this year, please adopt me a baby elephant who needs love from the True North.

Hey wait, there are people in Africa right?
Yes indeed. One of the worst crises to hit Africa - and that’s saying something - has left thousands of people without food, water and shelter. There’s no need for this, we produce and indeed waste enough to feed the entire world comfortably. This is a man-made environmental and social crisis and we all need to pitch in and help out. If you’re reading this before September 16th, the government of Canada will match your donation. That's for any eligible charity. I'm partial to Unicef and Doctors Without Borders. Both organizations are already on the ground and have a strong record of spending wisely.

And people here at homeStella is an amazing organization that provides emergency health and legal advice to sex workers in Montreal. These people, most of them women, are at particular risk for assault and murder, and often due to the nature of their work, cannot access legal recourse or even immediate help from police and emergency responders. They are also at risk for contracting HIV, Hepatitis C and other STIs but do not always have the same access to health care as other Canadians.

Those are the biggies. There are plenty more causes out there that do excellent work and need help, but these three are close to my heart. If you’re of a mind to give me something tangible, please keep it to a consumable. Here are some lovely things missing from my life right now:

Sazerac Rye Whiskey (so I can make these oh yums)
Kraken Rum
Kaboom! Bath Bombs
MOAR cloud storage!

In the next little while, I’ll further discuss the Great Purge that’s about to take place in my black coral castle. In the meanwhile, be generous. Be lovely.

I Fell - Stitches Out Edition

2011-06-13T18:45:00.000-04:00

Breaking news: my stitches are out! I've been using staircases, sitting properly in chairs, even bending down to reach the bottom shelves and drawers occasionaly! Yep, it's been pretty real.

For those last few wound voyeurs out there who just can't get enough of my sexay sexay knee opening, here's what it looked like right after the stitches came out,

and here's what it looked like as of about 10 minutes ago when those bandage things came off:

It's been a wild ride folks. All I can say is thanks again to magical Ben who speeded to the rescue and stayed up late in emergency with me. Thanks to the emergency room staff and md. Holla to my peeps @work who said 'whoa!' and 'dude!'

No thanks whatsoever to the city of Montreal. You just cost the province a bunch in emergency room treatments. Fix the friggin sidewalk!

I Fell - Update

2011-06-09T21:34:00.000-04:00

Some of you crazy folks out there have actually asked for more pictures of my mangled knee. I absolutely can't imagine why, but I have more to do with my time than contemplate the motives of wound voyeurs.

So here it is, my knee one week after my fateful tumble on a Notre Dame sidewalk. Stitches come out on Monday (if you're reading this in the future, that's four days from now)

I Fell

2011-06-02T21:57:00.009-04:00

I Fell.

This isn’t a story about getting swindled by some fast-talking con artist, or falling for some guy’s lame line at a bar. It’s not about falling in love, as good a story as that might be. It’s not even about losing grace and tumbling out of heaven.

It’s about me walking home from work last night. I tripped on this thing,

and I fell.

After diving headfirst into asphalt, I started to get up, thinking, oh man, this is embarrassing. But I couldn’t get all the way up, so I scooted back to the grass median, away from the curb. I realized that my knee was bleeding and I wouldn’t be able to get up and keep going.

I put a maxi pad on it to absorb the blood – thanks Always! – and tied up the toggle on my skater shorts to keep pressure on it. It was tying the knot (again, not a love story) that made me realize I couldn’t properly grip anything or move my right arm without tremendous pain. So with my left hand, I called my huny to come and get me. Ben, you’re the best. (It’s like the Bodyguard, except we’re real people!) I waited for him on the ground right here:

Five hours later, 3 different people at the emergency room – the admittig nurse, the orderly and the x-ray tech – had all looked impressed at the huge gash on my knee, flecks of yellow fat and black asphalt and thick red blood and said, ‘good job!’

After irrigating 4 times and using tweezers to clean out the cut, my knee looked like this:

Now I’m getting back up.

Bending my knee to walk properly gives me a sickening feeling of tearing flesh, so getting out to the cab last night made me walk a lot like this guy:

I still couldn’t grip properly with my right hand, or lift my arm, so I ate a late meal when I got home a lot like this lady would:

I slept in my shirt and pj bottoms because moving my arm to change was impossible. A humid day before plus night in and no showering because the dressing would get wet, made me spend a lot of today looking and feeling like this lady:

Which sucked, so I had a bath to at least get a good rinse. Then I tried to get out of the tub on a bad knee, with a bad arm. That made me feel like this:

But once I made it out, I felt much better and even got some more motion in my arm. My dressing got pretty soggy, so I had to change it. Right now, my knee looks like this:

Today, my biggest accomplishment was getting a proper sling for my arm and walking as far as the pharmacy to get it. Being able to do so little – even having emails and blogs typed for me as I dictate - is a huge, frustrating hassle. So I’m spending the rest of today and probably tonight like this guy:

Paranoid election coverage in 3 ..2...

2011-02-03T12:09:00.000-05:00

Post-holiday grudge match interrupted to bring you my paranoid musings on the recent decision regarding usage based billing, UBB in Canada. On the surface, the decision seems strange considering the usual position taken by the Harper government on issues of technology and net neutrality. But they do have something to gain.

1. The copyright issue in Canada has long been a thorn in the side of Harper conservatives. Not just the Act itself, but the sheer passion and publicity with which opposition to proposed changes was voiced. The people who care about DRM, media shifting, Mashups and new business innovation are likely the same folks who are pissed about UBB. The conservatives stand to gain by making nice.

2. By coming out on the side of consumer protections, the Harper conservatives stand to appear to be less in the pocket of major corporate donors as previously surmised. They still are, but shifting the focus from oil to the internet is smart. One is sexy, the other is just not.

3. This subtly proves the point that governing bodies like the CRTC don’t work and should be done away with. This is step one in a ‘we don’t need you anymore’ move on the part of our current minority government to abolish a Canadian regulator. That doesn’t just please officials who believe in small government, it pleases Telcos immensely.

I’m sure there are more, but on the surface, these three points have me convinced that the whole thing was an orchestrated attack on the CRTC from our government itself. Why? Well, when we compare the outcome of a nuclear regulator advising the government that a site had to shut down and other whistleblower stories to the current situation; and when we consider the heavy-handedness with which the current PMO controls other offices, I can’t imagine the initial decision was taken without Harper being involved somehow. I can’t prove and I’m not going to waste time trying. It’s just the most believable story in my head right now.

Personally, I disagree with many decisions by the CRTC, and I agree with many others. Rather than work to make it irrelevant, I’d rather make it robust, bolster its independence.

It’s February, the time of planning and looking forward to spring. If there is an election this year, let’s give Parliament – and the CRTC – a much needed makeover.

Me versus Everything: Post Holiday Grudge Match - Round 3

2011-01-12T18:05:00.002-05:00

Round 3 - Wednesday

Router not under warranty, lunch hour wasted @ store E1

Huny buys new router – new brand, new everything - at other store. M1

New router pricey, hopefully worth it. E1

Still no textbooks. E1

Monday class has one additional book to buy that I didn’t know about until now. E1

Jeweller recommended by friend refuses to repair pendant, suggests I mail it back to original designer. E1

Birks, wonderful, glorious Birks accepts repair for reasonable (small I think, but I have no basis of comparison) fee and agrees to have it done by early next week. M1

Impromptu date with huny. So exotic! Not @home, not in our hood. mmmmm M1

Three hours setting up new router, instructions impossible due to error in step 3. Worst: no phone number, only online chat support. Online support only. For a router. Which you need in order to...sigh. E1

Router set up and working. Wifi! M1

iTunes won’t index some of my fav music files, carried mp3 player & iPod touch around E1

Second round score: Me : 4 Everything : 7

Me versus Everything: Post Holiday Grudge Match - Round 2

2011-01-12T18:00:00.001-05:00

Round 2 - Tuesday

Insurance company fixes allergy serum, covered. M1

Wifi still not working, plugged in on living room floor. E1

Office still a complete shambles, aside from plant. E1

Plant disaster tidied, green saved, watered, kitties disapproved of for misbehaving. M1

(Once again, this M is really my sweetie who took care of the plant for me. My contribution included disapproving of our frenetic and often nonsensical felines. Teamwork!)

Post office open, package picked up M1

Package wasn’t textbooks, will be behind in classes by next week. E1

Back still all hurty, didn’t sleep well. E1

Still can’t get online lectures working. E1

Beautiful pendant (holiday gift) breaks when I take off my coat. E1

Second round score: Me : 3 Everything : 5

Me versus Everything: Post Holiday Grudge Match - Round 1

2011-01-06T15:38:00.003-05:00

Round 1 - Monday
Allergy serum finally ready, not covered. E 1

Bags and accoutrements unpacked and put away M1

Kitchen disaster area cleaned, neatened, wiped, perfect. M1

(technically this M is actually my sweetie. He did the kitchen while I unpacked and did the bathroom.)

Bathroom kitty fur, dust (gross wet bathroom dust) free, mat & towels washed, counters organized M1

Router still not working, forums say this brand is lousy and I’m now a believer. No wifi @ home, must plug laptop into short wire and work on living room floor. E1

Back hurts from earlier injury, exasperated by working on floor. E1

Online classes have additional hidden fees E1

Online lectures not streaming due to faulty internet setup E1

First round score: Me : 3 Everything : 5

Me Versus Everything

2011-01-06T15:29:00.004-05:00

Yes, yes, alright. It’s been forever since I posted last and things are pretty good in my little pond. I had a truly enjoyable winter holiday, spent mooching around the west coast, accomplishing almost nothing, luxuriating in other people’s cooking and generally wishing for an extra week of no work or school to attend to.

As such, I knew the inevitable re-entry to my stupid...I mean, exhilarating 300 kph life would involve a healthy dose of friction. And it did indeed. I’ve had one helluva week and it’s only getting started. So in the in the fine tradition of bloggers everywhere, let me get my EMO on and set the tone for this year with a series of blog posts entitled: Me Versus Everything.

Happy New Year.

Burnt, burned, still breathing

2010-09-27T14:11:00.008-04:00

With jittery fingers, through a haze of strong pharmaceuticals, today I look out at my 33rd year.

Friday came with flames. I don’t know where it started, but the smoke was everywhere. It was near enough to block the sun with fumes. From my downtown office run, back up and across to the west, on this day, my city burned.

Fitting then, that I should spend the next few days choking on its used body.

I worked and schooled through a sore throat on Thursday, and it was worse the next day. I ran around tending to small bureaucracies – a student loan here, a health card there – and all the while, gritty grey steam threw itself into the air between me and the sky. If I had been thinking about it, I might have compared it to breathing asphalt, but I just popped cold pills and hauled on my inhaler, oblivious.

At home I did the things you do when you’re sick; open the windows for fresh air – then close them again to drown out the sounds of sirens and the smell of burning plastic, wrap up in warm layers, draw a hot bath, take more cold pills, doubled my cortical steroids. Huny and roommate and good friend all celebrated joyously, one at a time. Toast with roomie – thanks for the bottle lady! Alone time with huny, and just keep your prying eyes out of our bedroom, living room, kitchen and shower. A few more puffs and pills and it’s off to dinner with good friend. Curry makes everything better.

Pills and tissues all day on Saturday, and not in the way that makes for a good, badly written evening drama. It hasn’t been this bad in a while, I think, why now? Sleep.

Sunday is the day of reckoning. Nothing has been accomplished, I’m pretty much at square one and I can’t even get started. My chest is heavy and pulls downwards, the kitchen table, my desk, the bed. Did that cement I breathed in coagulate? Can vapour do that?

Technically Monday, at 1:24 am, we haul off the emergency room because I just can’t breathe. No-one is around and the burning smell has evaporated. I get more of the same, always the same. Someone told me once there’s a cure for this disease but no-one will fund a proof clinic, or whatever it’s called, for the doctor who discovered it. Oxygen from a tube, light from a cylinder, steroids from a canister. Food and sleep waiting at home.

X-rays, then nothing from 5:30 to 8:30 am. We leave to go and sleep. I sign something that makes it sound like a doctor is right in front of me trying to help and I’m stubbornly leaving in a huff. No-one has seen us or spoken to us in three hours.

I cab back after a phone call saying now there are results ready. Pills; oh my old friend and insomniac Prednisone. Huny rehearses downstairs. He’s slept two hours.

Tiny flames remind me not to be consumed in minutia. A deep, proud tenor sax bellows my weary embers.

This year, everything burns.

Eat your way to a cure: Update

2010-04-26T09:03:00.002-04:00

Your purchase of a bucket of sodium made to resemble chicken won't actually result in a donation. It turns out, every time KFC buys a pink bucket from their supplier, 50c are donate to the foundation. Your money doesn't actually go towards cancer research. It's very nice of KFC to have guaranteed a minimum of one million dollars, but I don't know that I want to be sold a promise to look into curing breast cancer wrapped in a bucket (non-recyclable) of fried meat.

more at: Consumerist

Just for fun, here's a quote from the Washington Post about what types of cancer are caused by fried foods, "But bear in mind that the "F" in KFC stands for "fried." Here's a line from the National Cancer Institute's Web site:

". . .studies have shown that an increased risk of developing colorectal, pancreatic, and breast cancer is associated with high intakes of well-done, fried, or barbequed meats."

For the record, I don't think we can buy and eat our way to curing any of this stuff. Think of it like a koan: eat less, consume less, and you're less likely to get eaten. Or at least, take the 30 bucks a bucket of chicken costs and donate all of it to cure research.

Eat your way to a cure

2010-04-22T13:24:00.004-04:00

This is one for the record books. KFC wants to help the fight against breast cancer. They’re doing it by taking their extremely gross, unhealthy, body-image ruining, animal cruelty enhanced, carbon-guzzling, sodium-laden, deep-fried sludge and wrapping it in a big bucket of pink. That’s right, now you can eat your way to a cure.

Here's where someone with a stronger stomach than me actually wrote about this: The Canary Report

Congratulations America

2010-03-22T07:36:00.003-04:00

We've been gloating about healthcare since 1966, possibly more loudly since '84 when the Healthcare Act was passed. But those days are behind us. You've finally found a way to cover all (okay most, we don't cover everyone either) Americans and get between individuals and the coverage they need.

It won't actually cut back on insurance administrative nonsense or dirty practices, but ours doesn't really either; there are other factors at work in our system that keep them relatively hands off. But that's the point isn't it? Your culture is different. Since the states unionized (some under duress) you've been insecure about government ownership over everyone. We get that. Sweeping legislation can be as dangerous as it is progressive.

Don't worry America, this is one of the good ones. It's a step in the right direction and as soon as another two decades pass, you'll see how right we were about parental leave, drug coverage - hey, if you can't afford the drugs your free doctor prescribed, why bother? - and universal daycare (two provinces out of 10, we're working on it).

Good morning America and good for you. If you ever need any administrative advice, for setting it up and getting it running, we're just a phone call away.

Cheers!

Open Source Washing Machine Project » About

2010-03-17T15:20:00.001-04:00

Open Source Washing Machine Project » About

MRDV Designs Water Filled Structure For Korean World Expo | Inhabitat

2010-02-19T11:39:00.001-05:00

MRDV Designs Water Filled Structure For Korean World Expo | Inhabitat

Open letter to medical specialists

2010-01-19T23:50:00.002-05:00

Dear medical specialists, particularly those in non-emergency offices,

I need to see you sometimes because in consultation with my other doctors, more specific expertise is needed to treat whatever might be ailing me. It’s usually long-term, and relatively pricey, and because most of you are so busy, it means I have to suffer the condition for many months while I wait for an appointment.

That means that when I stare straight ahead in your office and slowly embed splinters under my fingernails by scratching deliberately on the arm rest, it’s not because I don’t value your opinion or the overhead cost in getting new office chairs. I just understand that flying into a screaming rage when you make me wait for hours is in a social ‘grey area’, so I choose instead to ruin something small and non-essential of yours.

Also, when your receptionist treats me like a lazy third-grader asking for more time to do their homework, I get annoyed, particularly because you’ve had three whole months (sometimes more) to get ready for my arrival here in your office, so there’s no reason for condescension. Asking how much longer after my original appointment time will I actually see you is a valid question, particularly when others go ahead of me while people at work/school/home/life outside my illness wait patiently for me for far longer than I told them.

When I get into your office to discuss my condition, don’t interrupt me. This is particularly relevant when you ask me a question and I attempt to answer it. Don’t guess, don’t talk over me. I know your expertise in the science of medicine is germane to my recovery. My expertise lies in living with my illness for long periods of time. I promise, I have relevant and useful information to exchange with you.

If you try to push prescription drugs on me and I say no, believe it or not, that means no. You see, there are other experts out there and though it may sound ridiculous, I consult with them and give their opinions the same weight as yours. I’m very pleased you want to introduce new drugs into my life, but when I tell you I already know about/have tried/have made a decision about a new medication that you just love to bits, you’ll have to learn not to take it personally when I stick with what I know already works.

I hope these small bits of advice assist you in remembering that you, like your patients, are a person and subject to social norms that all of us agree on. So is your receptionist. So is your technician while I’m at it. Let her/him know that if
I ask a question, it’s not because I’m being ‘argumentative’, it’s because I have a vested interest in what is happening with my body in your office.

Good luck reconnecting with your human side and may every single one of you who administrates medicine remain healthy for the rest of your days so as never to have to experience the stress and humiliation intrinsic to consuming basic medical care.

Sincerely,
FWM

a copyright xmas present for me

2009-12-07T20:04:00.004-05:00

Remember that time when a bunch of companies started screaming about copyright infringement and how they were being "victimized" by kids who download music and then go buy the album and tell all their friends about it?

Funniest thing, when they made a whole bunch of albums going back to the 1980's, the music companies failed to pay the COPYRIGHT FEES on the music they used. I have a warm fuzzy feeling right now. It's not just the deeply satisfying "I told you so" ringing in my head, it's the warm glow that comes from artists standing up to music companies.

These gateway companies must become a thing of the past. They don't collaborate, they don't create art, they don't support artists and their entire business model is based on theft and lies.

Anyway, the thing that makes this interesting is that it's not just an isolated case of a few artists and it's not likely the companies will just tie it up in court. It's a class action suit and the artists are suing for 6 Billion dollars. The companies have actually admitted they owe 50 Million dollars already. Oh warm glow...

Oh please please please don't settle, let the case continue and dear beings who make the holidays bearable for people like me who don't get festive, please please please make sure every name of every executive of every company who wants to sell bootlegged tracks be published in the papers with great big photos.

happy holidays ;)

a balm

2009-10-06T16:35:00.001-04:00

I'm sick today, but reading this piece by Lynn Crosbie made me fee immensely better.

Letterman, Polanski, and other icky celebrity news

so many penetrations in one mashup...

2009-09-12T19:44:00.011-04:00

Oh thank you Mashable for bringing this to me...

Okay, I don't even know where to begin with this one, so I'll start with what feels right: in my world, DP doesn't stand for 'digital protection'. It stands for two large, thick, smooth, sweaty meat-sticks in one tight, wet orifice at once. Hilarity and money shots ensue.

So if you're an anti-piracy sponsor, maybe you wanna go less with the ripped-shirt, wench-ravishing type of pirate to come down on. So to speak. Otherwise your message will get lost in the endless cycle of penetrating the market and the withdrawing from your customers only to once more plunge your next products deep into the tight, eager openings of your all too frantic, desperate consumers.

Particularly when it's all too easy to envision a top-level executive, not-very-artistic type sticking one in the artist and another in the consumer at the same time. Too right on the money?

It always gets dirty with me.

Next, bear in mind that when you make something that looks like a Mashup or 'remix', it could give off the impression that you're okay with people using your content in order to make mashups. Keep it clear folks. Also, you're not good at it, nor are the people you hired to do it. This makes your argument not only r-rated, but hilarious. We can't take you seriously with DP The Barely Mixed Mashup as your spokesperson.

The rapper featured in the middle only serves to reinforce my main belief about pirating artworks: artists do not suffer from expanding their audience. I share music with friends and when I first learned about lots of the artists I'm into, I was shown their work. For free. By passionate, enthusiastic, even zealous people who's mission is to promote artists and their work. For free. You're welcome.

You're misrepresenting artists in this way as well, and that I find far more personally offensive than full-on double-anal, double-vaginal, double-oral christmas turkey gonzo porn. The artists I know and care about never lose their careers over having their work shared. They never get careers because archaic gateway music companies don't care about anything unless it's saleable at the outset, which means pop music owned and controlled by them instead of original, creative works that only garner a small but committed audience. Jazz musicians are only famous to other jazz musicians and they are usually delighted when you meet them after a show and tell them about the person who made you listen to their cd.

Finally, a kid saying oops when mom springs into action on the swat team? All hail mom, first of all. You give them what for with that wooden spoon. It's not like a gross mis-representation of women and the police will harm your credibility by putting that in a video. As for the kid? She'll soon be in college with a Kindle and find herself explaining to her prof why her coursepacks disappeared because Amazon can't keep their heads on straight. The other kids who shared information from torrent sites will all be prepared for higher-learning and passing on great works to even more people.

Don't worry though; the CDI college ad you put in the middle of the video can show her how to build her skills towards a career, and we all know in this day and age how likely it is for an artist with a technical certificate to get lucrative contracts and even full-time job offers. If it were me, I'd totally rock my programming skills hardcore to be a low-level tech-support IT person in a dilbert-scented office building instead of getting famous for my music, book and video mashups while I dj on the side. No question dude!

Oh Software and Information Industry Association. Even you must have a person with at least 5 out of 10 people skills who could look at this video and suggest you don't release it because you're only going to get pantsed and pointed at by the kids who actually know how to use the Software and Information from your Industry.

Until you figure it out too, stick with single-penetration. Get the basics down first before it's Christmas Turkey gonzo time.

Let it be hereby witnessed

2009-09-07T22:14:00.002-04:00

All three writers in my home, on this day, did finish our novels within 3 days as proscribed by the terms of the contest. Hail Hunter, Callaghan and Vyse, for we have written each of us a novel in 3 days!

A word to writing supporters

2009-09-07T09:54:00.002-04:00

Are you a fabulous, loud, bitchy, quiet, loving, caring, despondent, huffy, huggy friend/lifepartner/caregiver to a wild-eyed writer who has ill-advisedly decided to attempt an entire novel in 72 hours? Here are a few tips to keep your well-watered but groggy and frantic writer on track:

Do occasionally ask how things are going and keep all cups filled, be they water glasses, wine tumblers, coffee buckets or whiskey bowls. Not filled to the brim, to avoid spillage, but never less than halfway full.

Don't ask for a whole synopsis thus far. It will only kill whatever just seemed to get done and the setback is bad enough when there are months to write a novel, infinitely worse when there are just three days.

Do tidy up a bit, get some laundry done, throw some sawdust on the floor, lick the windows clean and bother the neighbours for cups of sugar. Keep the general running of the house going while the writer is immersed in conquering heroes and destroying the lives of very nice people who have only just now come into existence on the page.

Don't try to be an integral part of the writing process. Those people who get thanked on the liner notes of albums were tea-bringers who kept their mouths shut. And what's more they were proud of it!

Do have more than one back-up take away menu in case the Indian restaurant up the street all of a sudden refuses to deliver just because one time they got a call for fresh goat at 4am in the middle of January which the writer then refused to pay for on the grounds that drinking and ordering take out is to be expected any time, but going to the bank machine to get money out to pay for the take-out at 4am is a wholly unreasonable request. Especially in January.

Don't offer to come by for moral support, show up to the writing room ready to open a bottle of red wine, pick up the NASA-designed corkscrew of the head writer, hold it out to her and say, "this is stupid". Unless you have tendencies toward self-harm, all things in the home of the head writer are awesome, especially the NASA-designed corkscrew. Open the bottle and sit down quietly.

Do bring something else to do with your time. Writing isn't an entertaining venture for anyone but the writer, so sitting around watching someone write will for you, feel like watching the Matrix from the point of view of the people on the ship. Whole worlds are being created out of bits of bones and breezeblocks, but all you'll see is several very stressed people frowning and occasionally shrieking at their laptops. Bring a few DVDs, maybe some sudoku games, or better yet, groceries. Writers love it when you occupy your spare time cooking for them.

Don't expect to do this type of thing more than once a year. If you're stressed out by the crying, drinking, howling, snorting, table shaking, door-kicking, glass throwing, loud music, and back-breaking naps where your beloved writer makes wheezing, chugging sounds that remind you of a broken radiator, imagine how stressed the writer is.

Do be ready with big hugs and chocolate covered flowers for your writer when the novel is done and the only thing left to do is lower the laptop gently into a bathtub filled with hot, foamy suds as the filthy, bloodied writer tearfully promises to get an accounting certificate and never ever do anything like this again. Promise to destroy the hated manuscript, tuck your writer into bed and hide the laptop until the next day when blood sugar levels are once again at a point where the writer can think clearly.

Novel HO!

Day The Third

2009-09-07T09:50:00.001-04:00

This is the home stretch. Last night our hero narrowly escaped lots of seemingly insurmountable obstacles and the last two scenes are crystalizing as we speak.

A very annoyed reptile was kept up until a truly late hour when finally all scribblers, onlookers, psychic cheerleaders and invoked, then discarded gods were unceremoniously ousted from the circle of creation so we could all get some shut eye.

Everything is rushed this morning. Leap out of bed, leap into shower, slather products from random bottles onto hair and body. Shake dry. Frenetic ballet in kitchen as veggies are chopped for bored and pissy reptile, egg fries while dishes tossed willy nilly into dishwasher. Coffee. Grinder sounds like reverse thrust of 747 Jet. Toast bell sounds like alarm from One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest.

Chew too quickly, bite lip, wipe away small drip of blood. Fling iguana food into cage, throw breakfast plate into dishwasher, fling body into chair in front of laptop.

Work tomorrow is going to be a boring, tiring grind.

Novel Ho.

Day The Second

2009-09-06T08:44:00.002-04:00

Partner and I did amazing work yesterday, but suck at high-fives. We agree now to stick to chest bumps only. It's 8:45 and we finally broke for sleep last night fairly early. Coffee brewing, hope someone brings croissants. Iguana is supremely annoyed that so many people are in her home and refuse to leave. Her bowl is full of lovely greens, her heart is full of cold-blooded indigance. Aw.

Back to the marathon. Must eke out at least the next two scenes before Act II can fully develop. Partner will be here by then hopefully. Timing is not my strong suit, but then, nothing really is.

Tired, sore, need to do laundry, yawning, stomach rumbly and generally out of sorts. This is going to make National Novel Writing Month seem like a soft summer breeze.

Morning of Day 1

2009-09-05T10:18:00.003-04:00

Last night partner and I rocked the character intros and are well into the marathon. Then interruptions for silly socialization and sleep. Who comes over to discuss farming and provincial taxes at 3am?

Partner is getting cream for coffee, croissants and fruit salad while I shower and feed restless iguana. Act I and start of Act II by supper yo!

4 hours out

2009-09-04T20:06:00.003-04:00

iMac is in the office, lizard is trying to sleep and giving off restless annoyed vibes. left wrist brace is in front of my keyboard, house mostly tidy, water on boil for carby delicious pesto pasta. Best if served with bits of fresh apricot.

6 bottles of red, one a cheeky pinot from down under and a california that tastes like christmas. fake plants moved, outline ready, word loaded on pc laptop, word for mac loaded on iMac. Every episode of Blacks Books, The Big Bang Theory, Kath and Kim AU, Kath and Kim US ready for procrastination and solving writer's block direct from 1TB harddrive. I should have done more research. No time now.

Appropriate sigils chalked on basement floor, rhodes and amp covered to avoid spiritual splatter. Spices mixed in shaker, partner on way with blender for fruity goodness tequila drinks. Rubber aprons, gas masks and nosegays ready. Stereo set up in every room including bathroom.

Bad Plus loaded on mp3 player and other harddrive in living room. Donny McCaslin and Vanessa Rodriguez on laptop player.

Pasta boiling, partner on the way.

Now we wait.

novel marathon checklist

2009-09-04T07:24:00.002-04:00

At 12:01 am, a scant 16 hours and 46 minutes from now, I hole myself up to get a laptop tan and wreck my wrist and arm tendons with 3 days of typing, glass lifting and hair pulling.

Am I ready?

Idea, check. Outline, check. Main characters, check. Red wine, check. White wine, nearly out need more. Iguana food, check. Research materials, check. Coffee, need more. Black teas, check. Candles to burn and invoking the gods of tenacity and sheer luck, check. Black slate altar for ritual slaughter of unsuspecting goat when all else fails and writers block can only be lifted by hailing the gods of chaos in a fury of entrails, check - move to middle of basement nearer drain than last time.

Spit roast drill attachment - thank you Jamie, great idea - for celebratory meal after writer's block vanquished. Mint sauce and chipotle peppers, check.

checklist to check against when right side of brain rears it's ugly head and insists that sleeping the entire weekend just isn't going to happen, check.

Pencils, paper....oh no

prayer of the marathon novelist

2009-09-03T07:38:00.002-04:00

Hail all muses and inspirons who watch the weft and warp of stories.

Hi.

This weekend, as I slog through the wet, gooey mess encased in bone that keeps my stories fresh and green, let not my body fuse with the upholstery in my chair like that lady who was surgically removed from her couch.

May my plots be thick and glossy, may my dialogue be rhythmic and strong. Keep annoyances and interruptors from my door when I have a flow going, and send inspiration when I don't.

Extend for just this weekend, the opening hours of my local wine shop and keep the panic from me at 4 am when dawn arrives and I'm not even close to how far I want to be.

May the power stay on, may our laptops stay lit. May the music flow freely and no telemarketers disrupt my progress.

For the next three days.

Amen.

3 day novel 09

2009-09-01T07:45:00.002-04:00

This weekend I'll be writing a novel in just 72 hours with several like-minded fiends. Other writers will take over my delightful home, fill every room with a laptop and we'll get down on paper a short novel with sleep, hunger and sobriety standing as obstacles to be bested by our sheer temerity.

Come one come all and watch the least sportive, least active, yet most invigorating of the fall competitive season! Novel HO!

not quite a floating party...

2009-08-10T20:55:00.012-04:00

This year's WorldCon was held in Montreal, city of odd bureaucracies, French street signs, odd little restos and incomparable local je ne sais quoi. With little else to report on a Friday evening, the CBC decided to point out on the evening news that some of the parties being held on two floors of the Delta Hotel. This is not a particularly interesting or even noteworthy event given the destruction and cleaning bills from the prom season. In addition, it is well-known that few people watch the evening news on a Friday, and even fewer people in Quebec, who speak French, both to watch the English evening news on the CBC.

Nevertheless, the good people at the Delta Hotel decided that based on this potential avalanche of rowdy hoodlums poised to descend on their rooms with the partygoers at the World Science Fiction Convention, who are so merciless, so supremely debauched when their energies are not carefully channeled through panel discussions and author readings that the top of the hotel - we were after all on the 28th floor - would detach from the rest of the building and go on a marauding adventure for more drinks and buffet treats.

Since I was at the Irish/UK party who's theme orbited the most recent installment of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, this seemed a not unlikely event. However first, I had to get there. After a dizzying elevator ride that was carefully managed by Delta staff and WorldCon volunteers since obviously pilots, vacationers and conference attendees couldn't possibly assemble themselves on different floors via six elevators alone, I arrived at the 28th floor of a hotel that appeared more than equipped to deal with whatever debauchery would be meted out by us. I did worse to a tiny hotel in Niagara on a wine-tasting tour with the Liquor Control Board of Ontario. This would be a dawdle.

For this and other reasons, I awaited my writing partner from eight o'clock until about twelve thirty, at which point I lost track of just exactly who was there and had been for how long. The thing is, the brits know how to party. You could be in a room of wine enthusiasts, university professors, football fans, whatever it is, if you find someone from across the pond, you won't get steered wrong. In my case, the Irish/UK party meant interesting conversation with lots of people, food, the horrors of Disney and the cynical genius of Dylan Moran.

Of course I'm biased, but not just because of my lineage. The thing is, there was a glass of single malt scotch in my hand most of the night, aged at twelve years minimum. I got to discuss that when someone assumed I was american and tried to tell me not to shoot the whiskey in front of me. It helped that the discussion in which I got to tell him about the 18 year old scotches I keep at home was held just below a large blue tardis.

Thanks to everyone who kept me fed and watered until about 3:30, except for that weird French publisher who I'm sure thought was being charming but actually creeped the hell out of me by running his fingers through my hair and on my neck incessantly and without warning. If you're reading this, know that when a Canadian woman tells you how much you look like her gay best friend, pause and consider if it's because she's picturing something already large and slowly, mercilessly expanding in your rectal cavity. If that's what she's picturing, you're probably being a complete prick and you should stop.

Even more thanks to the amazing guys that put up with the ridiculous hotel staff who fucked up the elevators, locked the doors - putting me in the position of being trapped in a room with loud music and scotch - reopened the doors and generally made our evening that much more eventful. You couldn't pay for that kind of entertainment. And much thanks for the towel.

The type of thing I'm all aboot

2009-04-12T21:11:00.005-04:00

Every so often, someone comes along and kicks the sorry ass of a culture obsessed with impossible beauty standards and required sexuality of celebrities and celebrity hopefulls. Today it's Susan Boyle and I have no more eloquent way to describe what I love about out than to simply show her in form. The title is a link to the video. Just look at the audience and judges. Eat it kids, this babe rocks!

Stampede

2008-11-28T19:58:00.002-05:00

The stampede has begun already and the marauders are out in force. Today was the first fatality of the door-busting sales on Black Friday in the US. Such flagrant and vulgar mobs have already brutalized each other over the years, but this year, for once, someone saying hello to grateful customers perished after being trampled.

I read a few comments from people at the scene who discussed the credit crunch and how difficult things were for them this year. I read about people using debit instead of credit, about long lineups late at night. And naturally, I recalled the US election.

Often invoked in the last few months, is the idea of Socialism. That hated, evil philosophy that equalizes all humans as holders of rights and responsibilities to themselves and each other. I see the point; the extreme left is Totalitarianism, versus the current extreme right, Authoritarianism. Those who can hearken back to the days of terrifying tales of Russians waiting in line for milk from as early as 3 am, in the shadow of ugly, grey boxes of cement.

These difficult, libidinal times make us seasick as our collective value swings up and down with every second. An attack here, a mortgage subsidy there, nothing is secret: everything is permissible. In a continent of people convinced their history is built on rugged individualism, that the very idea of cooperation is fetishized and unions are by definition corrupt, this makes sense. Without our things who are we? What would happen if the state owned it all?

A single mother on employment insurance stood outside at 4 am to get her son an iPod, the only thing he said he really wanted. She used her debit/credit card (true debit cards are only in Canada, where Visa and the Master can't get their mits on every bank transaction) and was thinking of the short term future. The slate-coloured box had a lone line in front of it that morning, and as the doors finally opened, like a group of starved citizens in front of a produce store, they burst inside. Doors were wrested from their hinges and three people were injured, including a pregnant woman. A welcome hand was crushed under the boot of desperation. Out of conjured need and false famine.

Christmas is coming, and with it, the bills. Refusing to carry a balance is a start, and a good one. Now if only someone had thought to pick up someone caught under a rush of pushing feet. If we could take a careful step forward and think to carry each other, we might just avoid the inevitable chill in our fingers and toes as we stand hungrily outside our grey buildings. And wait.

oh beautiful girls...

2008-09-28T08:54:00.002-04:00

no wait, THIS is the best birthday present I could get!

2008-09-27T16:53:00.000-04:00

The best birthday present I could ever get:

2008-09-26T19:30:00.003-04:00

Oh Sarah, who are the good guys?

wow! and why is it better to bail out private companies? oh, what does it hafta be all about?

jeepers! I just love it when strong, intelligent women set an example for ladies like me everywhere. good on ya Katie.

*CBS got pretty ad crazy, so these videos are now youtube links.

3 decades of sushi

2008-09-23T22:11:00.002-04:00

A September birthday insists on parties inside as nights are already too chilly for comfortable terrace drinking. Frosh tends to interrupt celebrations, coffees are becoming more complicatedly warm instead of frozen, and four times out of five, there's an election.

I always thought being treated like a credulous idiot on my birthday would cease as my age advanced. I am no longer asked to believe a clown has pushed a pin through a balloon without breaking it or to give sincere sounding thanks to an aunt that thought socks might be a good idea. Why then the constant barrage of insistence from all 4 candidates and their strategists and the media that I take at face value anything that might be said or done in the hopes of getting a vote?

As for the maneuvering from everyone, it's sadly this time like watching Machiavelli's retarded cousin trying to be canny and, oh dear, sly. The poop is out of the puffin this time, and frankly I've come to expect being called stupid by the Harper conservatives. I say Harper because there are other cons out there from the rational world who would never dream of including pixies and count-dracula ghosts in a website opposing a liberal platform. These guys have been treating Canadians like they're idiots who want nothing more than cheap jokes and funny pictures to get through a political debate, and the liberals are worsening the situation by agreeing.

How often has Dion had to dumb down the idea of a carbon tax? If he can't communicate, surely the liberal party of Canada can afford to hire someone who can. The NDP enjoy every second they get to appear tapped in and turned on and intellectually happening, never once imagining that their policies do need further explanation beyond the boardroom table/kitchen table dumb-down I've been fed.

I'd expound on the Bloc but I'm honestly just too tired. I'm a federalist living in a riding where the Silver Fox has never lost an election. He and Elizabeth can toast their nearly-theres on debate night.

In less than two hours I'll be thirty. I had hoped that by now I'd have lived through enough disappointment, frustration and machinations from these petty, power hungry wolverines that the system would be more intelligent, not less. I've heard nothing about Copyright, nothing about Women and nothing about Afghanistan that hasn't been said before this campaign.

I'm not an idiot gentlemen. And neither are many of us out here. Don't treat me like a credible, bleary-eyed yahoo and don't at all assume that when I demand an explanation you can get away with less than 100 words outlining your idea and how you'll implement it.

Make me want 60 more years of leadership. Right now I'm looking at midnight with deep dread and sad dismay.

Jazz Slowly Takes Over Canada

2008-08-13T23:50:00.001-04:00

Submission for new Hockey Night in Canada theme: Slap Shot in the Dark

well said! and then sadly thrown away

2008-08-06T11:08:00.002-04:00

Coney Island sideshow with Guantanamo Theme:

"What’s more obscene,” he asks, “the official position that waterboarding is not torture, or our official position that it’s a thrill ride?"

Northwest Passage opens this week:

Ice remains from west of Cornwallis Island in Nunavut to east of Banks Island in the Northwest Territories, he said. "There is only a fairly small plug in there right now and it's showing signs it's melting away."

The Ice-Cream Man Cometh

2008-08-02T16:32:00.003-04:00

He always knew when he was needed. He was always the one with a boat in the flood. He had stockpiles of baking soda ready for any fire lit under their noses.

Rosie was bleaching the walls of the apartment when he came this time. She knew him by then and smiled gratefully,

"Something blue with nuts please. I want down."
He smiled as he prepared the treat and topped it with whipped cream, unasked. She looked across his window at him, waiting.

"On the house this time cher," her lips curved upward at his little joke; that is exactly where his truck was parked. "You look like you've had a day." She nodded and took the treat. He watched her throat as she licked and slurped it down, crunching the nuts, sucking at the whipped cream.

"Come check the place when I'm done. It'll be as good as new." He eyed the punctured rooftop below him and sampled the dry rot smell drifting up from the open stairwell. Good as new would take more than bleach and determination. "Until next time." he said and drove off.

Rosie was working her spray bottle like a speed-champion air-brush artist. Some of the markings were coming off. Others were simply changing colour as the paint wore away. Adam hadn't come out of his room yet. The better for Rosie since now she could get every inch of wax off of the walls. She hadn't yet figured out what she was going to do about the light fixtures and the carpet, but she would. First things first. She'd be able to think once the walls were clean. The wax had easily scraped off of the fridge and microwave.

Adam could hear the spray bottle and music playing while Rosie cheerfully scrubbed away the evidence of his binge. He'd thought for sure he had gone too far this time, but as usual, she was making the place home again, eyes narrowed, her fingers raw.

The night before he had been deranged. He'd promised himself no more from the candy man in the truck who showed up everywhere. Their dad had been away again the day before and Adam had been...

He stirred for a long while at the knock on the window. The familiar, uncomfortably thin covers flapped over his dense body as he turned. He had hidden in here the night before, (the eyes staring back at him when he came home had startled him). Stock still in the doorway on shaking feet, he had instantly decided that black wax eyes all over the walls and doorways were too much for him to handle right now. The man had come again that night. He'd seen him drive up outside the bar when it closed and he, with the other straggler, went out once more. He felt the bells before he heard them. A tinkley ice-cream truck quietly easing down snowy Sussex drive.

"You were remembering her". Gordon wondered how he could have known. "You saw her again, here."

"One of her friends was there that tonight. She was like, uncomfortable. And you know. It was weird." Gordon's cheek pulled the side of his mouth up into it as he cast his eyes down. The truck driver smiled down at him.
"Just a minute." he said. "I'm coming"

Gordon met him at the back of the truck. They sat on the lip of it with the doors open. The candy man ran a reassuring hand down Gordon’s back then back up to stroke his hair lightly.
"I didn't know she was like that, How could I? She did it anyway, I never cheated."
The man ran his arm across Gordon’s shoulders and held him to look him in the eye. "You have been with as many men as she has. But she knows what it's called."
Gordon’s forehead creased in panic and anger.
"She's the liar! She went out all the time, it was so bad at her house Rosie came to me!" This was always what Gordon would say when he felt cornered, defenseless. "I did the best I could with those kids. If things had been different between us..." Gordon's eyes sparkled as his lip quivered.

"I know.", said the man. He smoothed his agile hands over Gordon's forehead. "You did what you could. You need warmth from somewhere." He was nuzzling tentatively, then kissing deep into Gordon. Exalted relief filled him, though he knew it wouldn't last.
When they pulled away finally, Gordon was close to tears again. "I have to go back there. I can't go alone."
"You won't be, the man said. He got up and went into his truck. He rummaged in small fridges and cabinets.
Gordon was nervous and excited as the man approached. "Can we go in and shut the doors, its cold out here"
"Come on now, we've done this before Gordon. Turn around." He sighed and shrugged theatrically as his cheek kissed the grimy floor of the ice-cream truck. Strong gentle weathered hands circled his skin, fingertips leaving telltale traces on his back, his crack, the back of his knees. He groaned as the confection entered him. A shiny, round ball of relief and warm waves. His prostate throbbed contentment, gratitude at the base of his cock, waving.
"It's just for now you know, ahhhhhhhh" Gordon groaned. "I won't need this forever."
"No." said the kind and ever-caring man. "None of you will."

Gordon wondered at this on his way home. "Of course there were others." He thought. It would be unfair, selfish to imagine I'm the only one. He still found himself saddened even through the floating warmth.
Now the man was here at his window. He didn't know how and he didn't care. "I can't be here right now. Take me away"
"I've got many people to see today. Can you move, try to get up."
Gordon rolled over on his face and carefully made his feet meet the floor. He stood unsteadily, looking for balance found after toddlerhood.
"Take this. It'll steady you for today. I'm rushing my rounds, can't wait." The good humour man smiled evilly, long teeth and narrow nostrils flared. "Stay where you are Gordon. Watch your son and daughter today"

He left a small green cake on the windowsill. A white star iced onto it. Gordon saw the pastry across a long distance. He had just spent all his effort getting out of bed. Now he had to get back across it to the window. No matter how much he told his muscles to move, they wouldn’t go any further. He crossed the bed creakily, with eyes closed, on faith. On all fours, he planted the tiny cake on his tongue and lay back. The kids would be fine today. Hell, one of them had done it right?

Gordon groaned and cried out as he allowed himself to think, ’just this once’. Again.

Rosie had called him that night. Gordon was nowhere to be found, as usual, and Adam had gone off the deep end. She unlocked the door and went into the apartment that faced four lanes of Merivale. The first thing she saw was a black-eye on the dining room wall. “steady, steady…” a simple mantra, but effective. She turned to each wall and found an eye on every surface but the floor. On the TV screen, the walls, the washer and dryer. There were words on each door. She didn’t bother to read them; she went straight to her room at the rear end of the apartment. There was nothing out of the ordinary in her room; only the regular roaches and window grime. The garbage was packed tight in the old laundry detergent bin she was using. There were no eyes inside. She hadn’t read the wax message on her door. She phoned everyone she knew with a car. After six or seven messages and two refusals, she opened the window to her six-lane neighbours and lay down in the city dark; orange and loud with sodium.

The bathroom was right next to her room so when Adam came home she heard him brushing his teeth. “Adam” she called out.
“Yeah”
“How are you”
“I’m okay, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He said. “I’m going to bed.”
“Okay” she said back. And that appeared to be that.

They never talked about it. And the man comes to everyone as necessary. He never went where he wasn’t wanted. She wondered briefly if he had tapped the phones, orchestrated the no’s in order to see her again. The worry didn’t stay with her, and she went back to her scrubbing.

Saccharine structures of crystal messy melting on his tongue. Two hands grip a cup as he slurps carefully, then replaces the vessel on his placemat. He licks his lips and sits back. Hoping for the candyman and his promised puffy mushrooms. It was bad last night, ugly. He crashed around the place, wild, spinning spilling his adhesive seed on every surface the soft candle end would touch. He could see them now. His recruits watched every move from the lights, the walls, the freezer door. His surveillance, however unnerving, made him feel better. They watched, and watched over him.

Adam had been dumped for the first time last night. He wasn’t ready for it. He wasn’t ready for the cavalier way that his man had turned him into something small. This man and the others around them treated Adam like a jewel, like something precious to be coddled and listened to. He was used to being plied with drinks, used to being touched and kissed seductively, used to being the person who dumped them. The shock of it pushed him to a place he wasn’t used to, brought swimming images of people who had made and broken promises over the years. Faces and small voices floated around him, and he started running.

He was looking for familiar space, somewhere he could get to where his particular specialness was known, was a given. Where it was only a matter of daily life that he was chosen, great. He crunched down pink, blue, green, silver sprinkles and chugged foam as he stumbled towards home. He crashed into the door frame and turned upside-down to get his key in the suddenly huge, long tunnel of lock. He shuddered when the compact was finally made and the tumblers turned to let him in. The door shut behind him and he opened his eyes to what should have been safety, a place to regroup. Alien walls looked back at him, ceilings bulged down in quiet attack; even the carpet moved, tiny legs and shells turning the floor to quicksand. He couldn’t go back out, not now. His back against the doorframe, there was no choice at that moment but attack.

The Good-Humour Man watched over all his children, the frightened, the lost, the desperate, the enraged. These three only needed cupcakes and the occasional topping to keep going, and how sad if they ever separated; started drinking water and cooling their nerve ends. He nursed a green liquid in a plastic batman cup.

They’ll always have me.

I wanna Diephone

2008-07-19T01:03:00.001-04:00

I work for a major telecom doing customer service. It is a mindless, uncompelling job specifically devised for an odd cross section of potential employees: those with no wish to go any further in life, and those with no hope of doing so. The former are often immigrants who find their degrees which, like bartending, should guarantee them employment everywhere, are useless here without more school. The latter are generally engineers recently laid off from salaried positions at large corporations who have just enough dignity, and French skills, to avoid flipping burgers. Everyone is bitter. No-one wants anyone else to have a nice day.

Recently, a new product was introduced onto the market that only us and our parent company were offering. Being too young when the Cabbage Patch doll craze was happening, I had no real experience with a large-scale consumer frenzy. This was to be the first in my life, and it was magnificent.

Being one of the few people in my company without a cell-phone, I'm often able to wax philosophic about the rampant consumerism and mindless consumption in this culture. I get odd looks when I admit I don't have a cellphone and occasionally, I'll ask how an employee account is set up just so I can impart to the person next to me that I am somehow above it. "no no", I'll say, "I don't need to switch it, if I get one, I'll have to set it up from scratch." I emphasize the if, to make clear that somehow, someone is going to have to make it worth my while.

The glut didn't surprise me this time, as I was one of the people who actually did want one of these devices. They are smooth, sleek looking, and they have that next-generation feel of all useless and dangerous technology. "A flip phone?", I'm known to ask friends and friends of friends, "who would put that much faith in hinged fibre optics? Don't be surprised that when it breaks, they won't replace it." This is my final word on both the technology and the managers who own it. Don't expect much, it's only shiny until you use it. Then it's covered in skin oil and traces of earwax.

It wasn't so much the unadulterated avarice surrounding this launch that did me in, this being the default state of being for anyone in their right mind in North America, but it was the depressing residual follow-up phone calls that I had to handle from those people who were offended at the thought that on the first day the item was available in this country, they might have to pay for it. In the build-up, I dealt with many customers who needed assurances that they could get them, that we were in fact selling them. I tried to tell them everything would be okay. A friend of mine in another department cleverly advised a customer who was waiting in line overnight outside a Toronto store to dial the customer service number at 7:30 am and wait on hold until we opened at 8. The phone wouldn't be on sale until 9, but that way, he could choose whichever was faster. He thanked her for her innovative suggestion, you could almost hear his wink over the phone.

The mantra of the day was, 'it's just a phone' all throughout the office. Partially this was to shield us from the live insanity leaking through our headsets at us, but it was also response to the management's handling of the launch. We had been invited to wear white, presumably because in a call-centre environment, not only can the customer 'hear your smile on the phone' she can also tell what promotional colour you might be wearing based on your tone of voice. Managers walked about with baskets of Spartan apples, which I only accepted after confirming that they were from Quebec and hadn't been shipped in from somewhere.

In the days leading up to it, several online petitions and articles by tech reporters had gone far to describe how unfair and draconian the business practices of our, and by extension many, telecoms were. I dealt with Europeans who were shocked at how the business is run here, and a few Americans who were surprised that the system still ran the way it did. A bill had even been presented in Parliament for review and a potential vote, and when one woman from Etobicoke asked me about it, I didn't have the heart to tell her what a 'first reading' meant and that likely she'd get her answer in the next two years or so. When asked in an accusatory tone if we were 'doing anything' about all the people who took seconds from their life to sign an email petition about telecommunication business practices, I looked for a way to explain that for every call to complain, there were 10 to place an order at full-price, while retaining my tone of understanding and helpfulness.

The day itself is passed now, and actually went okay given all the hype from both sides. Comments ranted on internet columns, managers sweated, computer systems crashed. Like any usual day when millions of tons of important information are shoved willy-nilly through overtaxed towers and routers. I often imagine satellites groaning in space under the sheer weight of classroom text messages and gps searches for the nearest 99c pizza.

It's done, we're in it and it's one of our products. The buildup is over and launch day could have been worse. The traditional disappointment in finding the normalcy in your newest acquisition is setting in. And as I prepare for work tomorrow, I can say, with a smile in my voice, that at least for this telecom, it's bark is worse than it's bite.

go canada! Let's hear it for home grown plastic recycling

2008-07-03T11:36:00.002-04:00

This is one of those things that I think the National Sciences and Engineering Research Council, or the Canada Foundation for Innovation should be holding prizes for. Also, it should be much much closer to the front page than it is.

A grade 11 kid in Ontario has developed a composting mechanism including the appropriate bacterial culture to break down plastic bags within 3 months. Break down plastic bags in a three month period. Three months. This is something scientists have been working on for about a decade since the plastic developed and produced since it's advent in the 1950's has no degradable component and no naturally occurring microbes yet exist that will ingest it on a large scale. The cleanup efforts this process could assist are breathtaking, particularly considering the monstrous build-up of floating plastic debris in the Pacific Ocean.

The next questions to ask are: how can this be improved on and implemented, what materials are left after decomposition and what should be done with them, and how do we prevent this innovation from giving plastic companies an excuse to keep mass-producing without killing the innovation itself?

A related story was put just as far from the headlines showed the Barrie Metals Group recycling high-tech materials and using some components to make diesel fuel. This was in the small-business section of the CBC and failed to correlate this with another story on the staggering high-tech waste being unsafely recovered in landfills in Asia.

Too often stories like these and others are kept separate, portioned off to us in varying sections of reports, papers and websites. A little momentum if you please? Could we relate the current international food crisis to the need for diesel fuel that can be created from reclaimed laptops, copiers and computer screens? How about the possibility of cleaning up not just the Thames, a section of wetland or a coastline, but in fact a continental section of ocean.

More than cynical commentary or semantic condescention, what we need is actual discussion, some hows, some funding and some linkage to how one technology can affect diverse situations the world over.

And what the hell, it's an Olympic year. Let's shout a little that it's happening here.

heyday to greyday

2008-06-24T22:55:00.003-04:00

June 24th, 2008. A day that will live in infamy. The at-home work in the morning and the eternal 25 minute ride to the call-centre. A day beginning like any other; better in fact, for several reasons. When in the washroom just before my shift started: the sudden flash, the loss of equilibrium: one hair, a silver filigree, daring me to toss it back with the others.

I looked back on my life in that mirror this morning and thought of all the disappointments and regrets I've collected since my first few memories. This is not unusual for me, particularly before work, and since my birthday is roughly three months away, that dreadful inevitability has been bearing down on me for some time.

I thought of the stress that could have caused it, but this year is nothing to two-thousands four and six, each of which landed me in the care of disturbed and wonderful medical practitioners. I irrationally thought it was someone else's until I pulled it out and felt the poing from my own scalp.

I love my hair. It's one of the few features I have that I have never questioned, second-guessed or had any problem with. It saw me through every change the rest of my body, face and general appearance. I could always end a disparaging comment with, 'but I have great hair' and feel better. Am I about to lose my appearance's most powerful ally?

I thought of my boyfriend, the man who had unexpectedly changed my life for the better. Who was always sympathetic, happy for me and proud of everything I endeavoured. Who calmed me when I raged and took me seriously in the craziest of frenzies.

"This is all your fault!" I rationally yelled in my head. "All of your beatific peacefulness, your neverending encouragement and unwavering loyalty and insistence on making me laugh even in the face of disappointment and total failure has caused me nothing but stress and anxious incomprehension!" And now my hair is grey.

It's so unfair. More unfair than my friend Dan who started losing his hair at seventeen? Of course! He's had 13 years to make peace with it, and he's a director. Shaving his head and getting square glasses only gives him street cred. My friend Dave might sympathize, but he's been graying and losing his hair since he was a lad of fifteen years. He's a veteran grey grower and probably doesn't even remember what it was like to have soft, luxurious, chocolaty curls that lift and sway on windy afternoons. Asshole.

My hair is going grey. This September will mark three decades of pain, failure and disgust by me, with me and around me.

At least I have a good hairdresser.

Here's where I'll be next Sunday...wait, the Sunday after next

2008-06-11T11:37:00.002-04:00

Summer Bling

2008-06-08T10:22:00.002-04:00

I don't have summer bling. It's forty degrees with one hundred percent humidity, I have rounded toe flats with sticky insides, a black sarong and hair in a clip. Shirt optional. The bling saw me today, sneered at my black cotton ensemble from across the subway. It never looks like it's supposed to. Across from me in the metro, gold shoes shone along the outside of red, blistered toes. A tight leopard tube top rolled out over itself, exposing the top of the strapless bra beneath. A matching tan canvas and brown leather bag frayed out of its season, hastily ripped from the closet this first day of summer. Iridescent eyeshadow glinted out from acne-studded faces, lips swelled with cherry gloss and plump sun-sores. Arms dimpled with freckles and lightly burned bustle me on and off the cool, underground trains. It might be the fluorescents, or just me that is unkind, but the only summer bling that has delivered on its promise is the strobing, glitter covered cell phone, smooth and skinless, held to an oily ear.

finally...

2008-06-02T20:04:00.001-04:00

A Belle Province suit of action that I can get on board with;)

Bell sued for throttling internet speeds

bubble from the water cooler

2008-06-01T18:51:00.004-04:00

We all have days where we know we should be doing something else with our lives. We all have moments where we think to ourselves, I could be doing more than this. I myself am a gigantic Hitchhiker's Guide nerd, so my main adage is to tell my friends and compatriots that I am having a Marvin day. "Here I am, brain the size of a planet and they ask me to pick up this piece of paper..." It is with this that I introduce to you the most recent assignment by blondezilla to the mermaid, after having had an uncomfortable conversation about productivity in the new office. I am going to be challenged more! I am going to be responsible for more things. What she was talking about got finished in about an hour and a half, and then I frantically checked my google account again all afternoon. Today it was a list. We all use them, we all gripe about having to fill them in, but they are a staple of office life. Without them we would be daydreaming poets, or possibly CFOs. I am used to dealing with lists, particularly ones that help me to get things done. It was in that spirit that I made my own list and included on it such things as who else was involved in the project, what status the project had acheived, the event date, the shipping date, you know, things that need to remain hidden and top secret from anyone not directly involved in setting these dates. So in order to keep my things on track I made myself a list which I happily read from when anyone asks me any question about anything. In this way, I have gained a stranglehold on all office information, bwa ha ha! (In the interest of full disclosure, I have mentioned more than once that we need to share information in order to avoid many of the difficulties we currently run into. Usually in these conversations I'm told to stop complaining.) So today I was a little taken aback to hear that I would be making a new list. This one would go back in time to every event we have hosted since January and determine whether all relevant materials were in or still needed to be processed. I made mention of the fact that we have two databases with all this information at our fingertips, along with a folder marked Done on the server, but it appears my list-making abilities are second to none and they had to have them. On the day before a shipping day, when certain priorities should be, well, prioritized, an assignment such as this took me from 9:30am until 4pm with several interruptions to see if I was done yet. My arm felt like it was going to fall off from repeatedly typing the same few letters over and over, and I never want to see an excel spreadsheet ever again unless I get to actually write a formula that takes....thought. Is your boss accountable to you? Yes. The boss must demonstrate some idea of what the job is, listening skills and the ability to make reasonable decisions based on the situation inherent in the office. My boss is still asking me to pick up the piece of paper.

ahem...

2008-05-20T12:05:00.001-04:00

here's the latest site w/ notes from the mermaid...

Sore Throat

the beat of your drum

2008-05-16T22:38:00.002-04:00

The systolics were off today, this was one of those awful days that make other, more livable days so much more enjoyable based on simple comparison. Little sleep, deep pain in my left ear, rushed, tiny breakfast and a trip across town for the benefit of a complete jackass to waste my time. One of those days.

Rushed on the way to work after and stupid, co-dependent nonsense from coworkers who can't take care of their own tasks. Is there any adult human who truly feels no responsibility for coming back to you several times on an issue they are supposed to handle and then trying to transfer the work directly to you because they don't want to keep going back and forth? How about doing your own work and realizing that being part of the workforce means not trying to dump extra work on others when you turn out to be incompetent?

By 6 I've eaten my delicious and healthy salad and I can't continue my life without an earl grey and a brownie the size of my chest cavity. The space surrounding my office is fully enclosed, several foodcourts that are all underground and without natural light. I had gone on a short brownie search during a 15-minute mid-day break, and the only close resemblance there was to a tea and a chocolate confection was the green monster itself: Starbucks.

I'm not big on the evil empire, and I'm generally not willing to purchase anything from them on the basis that it's there anyway. Given that, I wasn't sure if the quotes on the cups displayed at the cash were normal, or some kind of new medium. The choice caught me off guard: attributed to Newt Gingrich, "On the battlefield of ideas, winning requires moving toward the sound of the guns." In principle, this might be interesting. The historical significance comes from a battlefield tactic favoured by american civil war generals. I can't necessarily fault it, not being a general of any stripe, but I wonder how it might apply to Starbucks.

Would the fact that wave after wave of low-ranking men be killed have a parallel in Starbucks' low-level employees and the farmers their product is purchased from? What of the significance on the 'battlefield of ideas'? Surely someone in the PR department deep in Seattle's heartland recalls that Starbucks recently stole the names of coffee beans from the Eithiopian people who produce and sell them. As such, I find it unwise to promote bloody resistance to backwards-thinking ideologues whose way of life is rapidly becoming extinct.

I pondered this as I scarfed down a wide brown wad of sugar, strikingly similar in appearance to a compressed wad of tobacco, and sipped my non-fair-trade, third-world nation subjugating earl grey tea. These thoughts stayed with me throughout my shift at the telecom, where I respond to customers who subscribe to a service predicated on simple theft: we sell air.

I hope to sleep tonight, and resolve the incessant skipping that makes my breath come short and shallow. I'll take my very civilized Darjeeling in the kitchen from a box purchased meters from my home and leave the phone off the hook for one day.

low-tide

2008-05-10T11:24:00.003-04:00

It's been a quite week in lake woebegone, and small pebbles seem to be turning in lively acelleration. The book isn't out yet, but a fun little ditty I did on campaign finance reform will be appearing in the Voices of the Future anthology from Elder & Leemaur Publishers. Deep Blue rants can now be seen on NinjaHobo.com, an awesome new online publication devoted to filthy, toothless high-spin kicks. Here's a link to the first of many eloquent screams that float to the surface from between my lips: Up Close With Goldie.

I've been flexing the gooey grey this year, so there hasn't been alot of extra time for screeching about the SPP, the torpid foot-dragging that is this years parliament and the blooming international food crisis. Motley Fool is an investment advisory site who this year is suggesting savvy investors buy stocks in water and sewage utilities as this precious commodity is soon to boom on the world stage and it's so important that it will never be deregulated leaving utilities protected from competition. I could cry, but I wouldn't want to make anyone else any money from it.

A paper I wrote on the portrayal of Muslim women in Western Media has been nominated for an award. I'm very pleased about it and depending on how it goes I might be able to post a link to it or it's publication soon.

I'll be posting more over the summer months, and until then, keep it turning, don't eat the chum if you can help it.

...

2008-04-10T23:03:00.002-04:00

So is art apparently.

Starving dogs serves as art for (hopefully) starving artists. This one deserves to be eaten by slavering jackals.

Hope is a Myth

2008-04-10T23:02:00.001-04:00

more grabbin your green

2008-02-28T08:10:00.002-05:00

Ethical investments are the new black for many, especially those who make regular contributions to an RRSP. To be sure, return on investment is a key factor in deciding, but for those of us out there who have leafed through company litterature...okay, pamphlets, or read banking websites trying to make sense of clustered investments like mutual funds and RRSPs, information on the ethical standing of companies included isn't out there in the open.

Also, everyone has different and equally valuable ethical standards by which to judge a company or business practice. So how does one person apply those standards to a fund? Several options are now available.

The Ethical Canadian Index is an excellent place to start if you want funds that can perform, but also meet vigourous social standards. The index is related to funds in the TSX and their financial information is maintained by Standard & Poor. From there, the Sustainability Scorecard (I love this) measures the environmental, social and governance indicators of a company and compares it to the rest of the industry. From that basis, further elimination is done of companies whose main business focus is unethical such as tobacco, firearms manufacturers and uranium mining companies. This is basically everything I've ever wanted in a stock index, as my personal beliefs will indeed drive the direction of my cashflow (limited as it may be).

But not everyone looks first and foremost to the same indicators I will. What if your main concern is that businesses in whom you invest agree with your religious principles? How are their employees and partners treated? There are now very aggressive religious funds available for the devout investor.

frontierALT Oasis Funds offer excellent returns with global investments based on shari'ah principles. The concept of sukuk allows for return on investment from profits in the companies invested without interest. Interest is not permisable in Shari'ah ethics, and so this fund has a way around it for investors who insist on getting a return, but not by compromising beliefs.

Advisors with Purpose is a network of Christian financial advisers who steer investments in projects and companies who agree with Christian ethics. Their website is not as information-rich as frontierALT Oasis, but there are still strong mentions of the treatment of your fellow man, that includes living wages for employees in developing countries, and environmental sustainability.

There are many others, but the point is that now it is easier to be mindful of investments. Instead of having to open an investment account or pay broker fees and then monitor each separate company for business practices and projects with which you may or may not agree, RRSPs and mutual funds are available for the socially and environmentally conscious, at an equivalent return.

Grab your green girls, and should anyone come across a business or project directly related to the promotion of women worldwide and/or companies run by women, the indicators in all three funds I just mentioned do not evaluate the status of women in the companies or the effects on women that company projects will have. It's a great start, now we just have to remind ever-greening Bay street that sustainability includes fellow-persons, not just fellow-men.

It's not their money!

2008-02-28T07:41:00.004-05:00

The current Ministry of Heritage is reviewing Bill C-10 which would effectively allow the government to refuse funding for Canadian cultural projects if they are too 'racy'. The disturbingly broad definition of 'racy' in this case includes material that is too graphic either in sexual content or in terms of violence. The current definition of obscenity and pornography in the criminal code are sufficient insofar as they preclude funding of criminal projects. Any other project should be open to Canadian funding.

The govt's response? Again mixing up the country with an investment bank, a Toronto lawyer argued that they should be able to exercise 'discretion' and choose not to invest their money in a project they don't agree with.

Their money.

Here's the difference between a country and a private investment firm: a private investment firm is made up of principle shareholders who review projects based on their own criteria, usually centred around ROI, but also including their specific goals. A country is a public citizenry whose values and beliefs have coalesced over time. The money in a private investment firm is, well, private, and the money a country's government is disposed to distribute is public. The shareholders in a country are the citizens.

The current government who I hope will crash and burn on at least one of the confidence motions headed for us, is not disposed to make decisions of taste with public money. There is no discretionary latitude for the department of Heritage to use as relating to feel-goodery, and who ever said officials should not have to administer funding to those things of which they disapprove? If I have to fund from my own pocket the purchases of T.A.S.E.R.s for public police, the tax breaks that corporations and investors enjoy under this government and the salary of a Prime Minister and Cabinet for whom I did not vote, they are overwhelmingly obligated to fund cultural projects in this country (at least!) that might be seen by some as distasteful.

Guys, it's not your money.

the morning after

2008-02-27T07:41:00.001-05:00

Two delightful alternatives to the insulting, depressive budget proposed yesterday:

http://rabble.ca/news_full_story.shtml?sh_itm=8f9e5fc0d44ab7b80520fa68854a4da4&rXn=1&

http://www.policyalternatives.ca/News/2008/02/PressRelease1826/index.cfm?pa=BB736455

White Trash Groceries

2008-02-23T19:38:00.002-05:00

I went out this evening to the grocery store to pick up some items I forgot to get earlier. It only occurred to me now that they all fit into a certain category. As I unpack my canvas bag in my kitchen, a small dismay passes over me. I needed something for my bathtub drain, so the main focus of my purchases was merit selection drain opener, which they were out of, so I got regular drano. The cheapest they had was gel plus. No-name easy-tie kitchen garbage bags and no-name paper towels round out my purchases from the corrosion aisle, also dedicated to cat and dog foods. I rounded out the trip with three packets of coin rolls in the one cent denomination as this evening I possess only enough mental capacity to roll coins, a package of merit selection chocolate fudge pudding and a six pack of Sleeman Silver Creek, affordably priced at 8,99$. I would have left it there, but as I waited to pay I couldn't help but pick up and read a french paparazzi magasine about Britney Spears. As I put it back I noticed a package of cheddar cheese sitting on top of the chocolate bars and realized I meant to get cheese but didn't. It is now in one drawer of my fridge since I didn't feel like going back for refrigerated cheese when I could easily rescue this one that comes with the added thrill of having no idea how long it has been sitting there.

I noticed my purchases at this moment and now I will go into the other room, order take out and start rolling pennies. and wait for inspiration to hit...

Open Source Ho!

2008-02-18T18:57:00.001-05:00

http://news.zdnet.com/2100-9584_22-6230997.html

And where is Elonex releasing this masterpiece? I couldn't have chosen a more appropriate venue:)

Kids Eat Crayons

2008-02-17T20:36:00.001-05:00

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Say, who's that sax player whose head is obscured by the high-tech lighting arrangements on stage?

more notes from a cube

2008-02-14T06:40:00.002-05:00

Here is a little anecdote that my friends and I commiserate on even to this day. In the realm of project management, there are always common grounds to meet on. The IT guys tell me sometimes about difficulty understanding service calls because the people who need service don't have the vocabulary to describe a tech problem. (Occasionally they don't have the vocabulary to describe their four-year-old's most recent belching achievement, but that is not for me to judge). Sometimes I can get together with the Loss Prevention (cop-wannabes) staff because the people on the front line generally don't want to go the extra mile and actually tell you about something that happens. For my money though, there's nothing like Construction for people taking things into their own hands and failing entirely to call a professional.

Case in point: For several years I received phone calls and emails on a myriad of topics such as faulty wiring, changes to landlord-owned gas lines, faulty heating or cooling systems, etc. Many of these requests are routine, so I thought nothing of it when I received an email about a light fixture that wasn't working. Something jumped out at me though, the requestor mentioned that she had tried everything before sending the email, turning the light on and off again, checking the breaker, getting a potato, trying to change the bulb. It was the potato that I found strange, and I asked my cohort if she had ever recommended such a thing. You know, policy developed before I got hired. If a light fixture stops working, find the nearest root vegetable and make sure, make absolutely sure not to use the same one twice. I called the store with the fixture problem and tried to get a handle on why a potato might equate success in this endeavour. Apparently in the nineteen fifties when most bulbs were incandescent and women didn't venture far from the kitchen, if a light bulb broke and the metal contact got stuck in the fixture, the safe way for a lady to get it out was to grab a potato, cut it in half, shove it onto the offending metal (the potato grounds you) and unscrew the rest of the lamp safely.

It is no longer nineteen fifty. Potatoes are not readily available in clothing stores, so this girl actually went as far as going to get a potato. That's a long time to think about what you're doing and wonder if it's a good idea. The bulbs used in most commercial environments are full of various gasses that probably shouldn't be mixed with starchy vegetables. The fixture too should probably remain clean and free of potato peelings. I take these things in stride. Why if it weren't for this girl getting in over her head with the potato solution, I wouldn't have a job after all. I told her how to get the fixture itself down from the track with a simple click and shipped her a new one while the one she had would have the socket replaced. Problem solved right?

No. The managers all talk to each other, so before this girl starts her own confidential potato tip-line, I need to nip this in the bud. I sat composing an email to the district manager wondering how to word what would be circulated without calling this girl stupid or old-fashioned or any of the things that though applicable, are not professional. I settled on foreign objects. It is not a good idea to attempt to remove broken pieces from a light fixture with any foreign object. Call the number, if we can walk you through it we will, if it takes a repair tech, we'll send someone. The first thing that went through my mind in this whole episode was me. Did I misjudge this girl? Have I misread the email? Is there some secret potato pact I'm not a part of? When we asked a few other women at work they acted as though we had missed some vital part of childhood education that we didn't immediately think to shove half a potato into every offending light fixture we saw. It became a cult with us. When something doesn't look right, or we have a question that might sound stupid or obvious, the first thing we say to each other is, "I have a potato question." To this day I can call one of my best friends at any time of the day when something weakens me. When something I would never have considered shows up and I have to deal with it. When I can't think of what words apply to the stupid stupid situation I'm now in charge of fixing, I open my email and send it along to the girl now managing these requests for another company. And in the subject line: What do you mean a potato?

and now...sports

2008-01-28T22:07:00.000-05:00

The american state of the union was on when I got home tonight, and being a junkie, once it was on I couldn't stop watching. Many things irked, annoyed, distressed and vexed me, 911 was sung out like hosannas and of course I was told how great the Iraq war is and that it should continue.

Sandwiched between these two upsetting ideas, was the announcement that the Summit of the Americas, that's us, the US and Mexico, will be held this year in the great city of New Orleans. It is not only the symbol that bothers me.

The words rang out after commending the people of the Gulf Coast, failing to mention the egregious and inhuman reaction of the bush administration, the private insurance companies and the Red Cross to the disaster, the president continued by simply making the announcement and going on to safer ground. (pun intended)

Can I safely point out that the last thing the people of the Gulf Coast need is the insane amount of security forces that come with international delegations? Can it be reasonably pointed out that in gearing up for this summit the local security forces will be hiring like crazy and the jails will surely be brought up to standard faster than the hospitals and schools. And where are all these people staying? In the public housing that survived the storm but is now being knocked down in order to build limited public housing on a two-tiered feudal system?

I wonder these things. I sit and I ponder that representatives of my government who have gutted my social system and broken our industries in two, representatives of the bush administration who make me want to puke in my soup, and representatives of Mexico, who have done nothing and will continue to do nothing and who stand elected on the body count of hundreds of women, will meet in a broken city. A city where those who needed help helped each other. Where those who faced madness and skin-peeling winds were ignored. They will sit in this city and marvel at the poverty, the new constructions, the resilience, the quiet judgment of its people.

The city truly unto itself, the first american city-state not by secession, but by abandonment, this island of non-recognition, of failed citizenship will host three leaders who wish to do nothing more but keep going.

I won't be there, my health does not permit it. But good news for me that night would be news from local reporters of an uncontrollable riot. And a guillotine.

Pride

2008-01-28T07:32:00.000-05:00

A great article on a great anniversary

come swim in my pond

2008-01-27T20:28:00.000-05:00

The mermaid's lookin fer a roomie, here's three postings on the subject:

craigslist

kijiji

Hey, who wouldn't want to live in Mtl with an urban ichthyosapien?

mermail

more from the defunct digest

2008-01-26T20:39:00.000-05:00

Normally I don't bother socializing with people from my office. As a general rule they aren't much fun and wonder about what entertainment habits the "weird girl" might enjoy. This time though, it paid off. One of my colleagues left the company, and as he reached escape velocity, a bunch of us decided to have a 5 to 7 together. By showing up late after an appointment, I ensured that the boring one-beer, one-song people left and the former employees were boozing it up with gusto. Perfect gossip opportunity. Gossip I feel is an undervalued commodity in office life. There is no better way to share information than word of mouth, and in terms of one-sided communications, offices can't be beat. In order to survive such an environment with curiosity intact, it's important to learn about colleagues, bosses, upcoming procedures and events etc. It's not only a way of remaining sane and in small measure getting back at those with authority, it's also about keeping those neurons firing in the face of insurmountable odds. The best places for gossip include the lunchroom, a colleagues's car on the way to lunch, hallways, printers, coolers, elevators and naturally, the washroom. The richest, most central hub of office traffic, the washroom remains the unsung hero of the office communication nexus. It is where we pass each other and comment on our hair or clothes, where we bitch about a bad day, where we have at one time or another passed a phone interview on a cell in the only private space available. Where better to commiserate with people who do the same job you do? Where better to solidify ties with those on the other end of your job? Where better to waste fifteen when you can't bear to go back to your desk? Yet it was not here that I made the best discovery yet. At the bar, over a decent microbrew, I learned what is now keeping me glowing warm in the middle of this unseasonal snowstorm. The dog, the lies, the history, all pales in comparison to this: My boss is the former Miss Lebanon. She went to the Miss Universe pageant in the hopes of bringing home the values of western beauty pageants to the middle east. I honestly never thought to picture blondezilla in downtown beirut, but I will say this: It's Sunday, my work for tomorrow was completed last Wednesday and this is the only thing that will get me through the week. ...Until of course, I need to stop in the bathroom. Tell me your favourite gossip! Feel free to hide names and dates if you wish.

human rights - thought crime

2008-01-21T07:33:00.000-05:00

A great article by Ezra Levant for the Globe and Mail.

losing my M-F'ing mind

2008-01-20T10:25:00.001-05:00

For anyone out there who was hoping I'd come back from xmas with tales and a welcome ear for stories of the holidays and a year in review, I must disappoint. I'm working full-time until the end of February and skule has begun. As such, I'm freaking out, living off adrenaline and True Grit. Smoke is coming out of my ears, I cry molten lava at the slightest provocation and sleep has become but a wistful memory.

I love you all, I miss you all. I promise I'll be in touch when I get part-time hours and a recalibration of my frazzled central nervous system. I'm thinking of upgrading to the latest titanium fibre optic model as seen in Venusian2: bionics for the well-accessorized civilian.

love,
Mermaid

another phone-in after the holidays...

2008-01-11T11:28:00.000-05:00

So in my first real altercation between myself and my new boss, I learned a valuable lesson: Never assume anything. I thought I had this office diplomacy down pat after 5 years in retail construction. I have heard every ridiculous rant you can imagine, I have seen unprofessionalism at it's worst. But I should have worn a flak jacket to be in the room with this one. Both my sense of personal dignity (a nonsense idea in an office I know) and my bosses loud, carrying voice have caused mild friction from the beginning. Nevertheless my work is done well and correctly, so we deal with each other. The other day however, things took a bit of a turn.

I've been feeling lied to pretty much since I began. The job is not what it was advertised to be and the people I work for are pretty clique-y. This is fairly stressful for me and on this particular day I received an email from one of the developers that didn't look quite right. I forwarded it on to the person who normally handles changes of event dates and asked if I should be adjusting calendars. I continue my slow journey towards an early stroke brought on by flickering ancient screens attached to computer equipment that appears to have been made by Fisher-Price, when I see a mass of dyed, curly blond hair move hyena-like between cubicle walls with a voice calling low, Margaret! Is this date change confirmed? Why is Julia sending emails, what is going on? My reaction was immediately to say, no no, I sent one email, the developer in question sent many emails and cc'd me. I wanted confirmation. Given the sheer decibels and urgency in her voice, I couldn't understand why she wouldn't just come to me and ask why I sent the email or at least for more information. One of the clique girls who has an office nearby came out to look at me and say, whoa! As though I was in the midst of a hostage situation and she was the person who was going to restore order to the situation. The boss comes over and says she doesn't like that, she doesn't want to be spoken to this way etc. Immediately I apologize, it makes no sense to argue with the boss about who's right in a situation like this. She vented a little and went to deal with the urgent email situation. She came back to further expound on how inappropriate it is to defend yourself when you are being accused in front of everyone in the office. I asked to speak to her in her office alone.

I must say, I have had my fair share of uncomfortable situations. When I yelled at the VP of Finance in one of my old offices for being loudly homophobic near me, for the way he spoke to and about women, for the way I bitched out the director of product in my last office after a very stressful move, after another employee lied to the boss and our department had a meeting about it. All in all, I have learned how to diplomatically ease uncomfortable situations, take responsibility when responsibility is mine, apologize, graciously accept apologies and move forward. I figured this was a great opportunity to solidify my relationship with my new boss Gail, or as I call her, blondezilla. It sadly was not to be. In her office I apologized again and immediately did what I always do in big, corporate situations. I explained where I was coming from and what I had interpreted from her to lead up to what I said in the office. Big mistake.

Normally in offices of 200+ people, this type of approach makes sense because you have to deal with everyone all day. In this way, we respect each other, attempt to understand where they are coming from and openly communicate to avoid hostility. In teeny, tiny, sad, barely extant little offices like this, never ever ever talk about what you mean or where you are coming from. She immediately said the following, "Okay Julia. I'm going to explain what is going on with me. I don't have to explain anything to you, but I will."

I don't actually remember the rest of what she said because I was seeing vivid red in front of me and was (as usual) counting slowly in my mind. She doesn't need to explain anything to me? But I'm supposed to graciously accept this explanation that I don't deserve? Guess what lady, you do owe me an explanation. Your boss is an authority figure. This person has direct control over your salary, your hours of business, vacation days, what projects you will be working on. This directly affects your standard of living and indirectly that of your family and friends. I don't need my boss to think I'm right (though it helps) but I do need to know that someone isn't going to pull any nonsense with that authority. If I see some evidence that I am being treated inappropriately by someone with power over myself and my job, I'm going to say something. Your boss DOES in fact owe you an explanation when they don't appear to be acting in good faith. It is definitely okay to stand up for yourself and attempt to reconcile the situation as necessary.

It's been two months now, Blondezilla one, mermaid zero. But the other people like me. For now.

more bubbles from the water cooler

2008-01-04T21:38:00.000-05:00

So I used to commiserate with my good friend when she was working in a small, exclusive photo studio. She was the manager and along with her was one employee and the owner, that was it. I was working various crazy cubes at the time, trying to figure out what it's all about (and I find myself now here...) and she would call to tell me about the owner bringing her child and/or dog into the studio with her. I never really understood this, although some parents do occasionally need to bring the little ones into the office. This was a photo studio and a small child or a huge golden retriever never made a lot of sense to me in the workplace. Would the dog attend the photo-shoots? Would it participate? Would it in fact bark through the entire day giving my friend good reason to sell it to the nearest petting zoo when the boss wasn't looking?

I complained of the unprofessionalism in various places I worked at. My favourite saying was, "if the tattooed girl who swears all the time is giving someone else a lesson in professional conduct, there's a problem." I had been used to being in shops of various kinds before I made the jump to office life and I was struck by how ambivalent, uncommunicative, unhelpful, inhospitable and downright dumb some of these people could be. It occurred to me that that must be why they worked in offices because dealing with the public (if you do it well) takes some diplomacy and courtesy whereas in an office you tend to get off by just treating everyone however you wish at any given moment. Don't get me wrong, I try to socialize, but when I tell people I have a 4' long green iguana free-roaming at home because I'm not a cat or dog person (also, iguanas kick behind!), they always ask me, "Why would you do that?"

Or I'll try to talk about sports. Inevitably if you're a habs fan, you're not enough of a habs fan and if you are enough of a habs fan, they like the Canuks. If you like Wes Anderson movies, they've never heard of him. But they can't wait to tell you how surprised they were at who the killer is in Saw3. If you're into politics at all, either their eyes glaze over trying to remember the name of the prime minister or they go on a tirade about how high our taxes are and why can't we give up on some of these more archaic social services like drug coverage?

I don't fit in generally. My habit is to ride out the first two months getting to know people while generating a reputation for getting everything done and knowing as much on any subject as possible. "hey ya, go ask that weird girl in construction, she knows everything." Fine by me! So it was no surprise whatsoever for me when I started at the new company two months ago and I didn't immediately get along with everyone. I had just come from five years in huge corporate offices with whole HR departments and IT departments, and their own form of officey bullshit that everyone has to deal with. Also, some great people. Also, some complete assholes. In this new place there is no HR, there is only my boss and IT consists of one guy, one student to assist him and the owner of the company who is a "self-taught" programmer. IE: he never uses the program per se and therefore has no idea what various employees might need in terms of programming it for their work.

It should not at all have surprised me, under these circumstances, to have been introduced to the owner's dog immediately after the owner. I started my first day with my new boss who had originally interviewed me, the owner himself and then the dog curled up on his floor. I thought it might be an every-so-often kind of thing and went about my business, but the dog was back the next day. And the day after that. They had introduced an hors d'oeuvre-sized bichon frisse to me as though it was an employee. A manager. I met the vice-president of the company (owner's wife) in the ladies room the next day. It is the type of washroom with stalls, (yes, more cubicles though these at least are honest in their function) and the dog was sitting on the threshold of the door which I wanted to close. I looked down at the dog and make shooing sounds and motioned with the door to close it and to get out of the way. The owner's wife, excuse me, vice-president of the company, told me not to move the dog. I told her in politest terms that closing the bathroom door is one of those things all dogs need to deal with in their lives. It's not always pleasant I agree, but they get used to it. Why? They're dogs. She said, "but it's Milou." Yes, the f*#!ing dog's name is Milou. I have nothing comical I can add to a white fuzzy tragedy on that scale. "Yes" I agreed, "It's Milou. I'm Julia, the human and therefore dominant species. When using a public washroom, I close the door because the doors on the cubicles do not afford me enough psychological protection to deal emotionally with my co-workers listening to me peeing. The dog is fine, I'm not, the dog moves. Dog. Me. Doooog....Me.

I find it difficult to understand how many employers of both small and large companies will make special effort to diminish the comfort of those employees with whom the company invests salary, benefits, insurance and equipment, but who will then fall over backwards inconveniencing themselves for small filthy rat-like animals who bark their way through client meetings and insist on having their own waste picked up for them in minus forty centigrade weather at lunch hour. The dog was taken out after a conversation in which I was told that I am not allowed to be allergic to the dog and I now see it daily as it walks in and around my office. In the interest of full disclosure, I will say that the dog is in fact fairly well behaved and doesn't bark too much, although when it does, certain close friends of mine get emails containing only: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggghrrrrr goddam filthy little sh*t is barking why in GODS name would anyone bring such a thing to the workplace aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ....and so on like that until the dog stops. The other managers though, you'd think they'd never seen a dog before when it whines and paws and jumps up on people. There is much oooing and ahhing on the scale of David Blaine audiences. They act as though it makes perfect sense not only to have a dog present, but to stop all work and coo at it if it happens to walk by for some reason. Am I the killjoy in my office? Very likely. I sit in my space in front of the database, a PowerPoint presentation or an email and I blast my Tom Waits like my life depended on it. I socialize with most people and I'm cynical enough in humour that everyone likes me except upper management. What else is new? There is an argument towards integrating the work and home in a more balanced fashion and respecting the personal life of the employee more. Indeed, my last office had such a thing as flex-time for those with children to pick up, a kids day every holiday season where all employees children come in for a show, a free buffet and presents. Mat leave is a year and many men take advantage of the parental leave available to them. A dog walking through the office though, that's crossing the line.

water cooler first bubble

2008-01-03T12:09:00.000-05:00

I used to post on a now-defunct website and in the spirit of slacking off and phoning it in right after the christmas break, I'm resurrecting the posts I put on it since you can't link to it anymore.

They will appear as bubbles in the water cooler whirlpools and I'll tag them as Cubicle Digest.

I miss it a lot and I hope cubeguy finds a publisher for his book soon.

Here it is: the first post from me on Cubicle Digest (how I miss it so)

A fond hello from the city-dwelling mermaid. I'm happy to join this group of enthusiastic people who truly understand how much a break from the monochrome of fluorescent boredom is a requirement, nay, a necessity of the workday. I have many stories of nonsense, defeat, dissent and disappointment, but since this is my first post, I will begin with a story of triumph. This is not a huge win. This is not one of those stories about changing the workplace for the better or indeed even trying to. This is one of those things I think everyone can relate to about office diplomacy in the face of extreme frustration. A day to day moment of standing up for myself. Believe me, I won a few tiny battles, but the people in this particular office won the war.

It begins at 8:15 am, a far-too-godly hour of the morning. For no reason at all my trains and the bus I took to get there had conspired to bring me to the office building earlier than usual. As such, I was enjoying an early morning cup of coffee, this was before they started charging for it. I worked in the Construction Department at that time. We had undertaken a project the night before, so I wandered into the area to see how the work was coming along. Anyone who has done such a thing will know that it doesn't matter whether a project is yours or not, whether you know about it or not, you are treated as an ambassador for your department wherever you go. I should have remembered that. I went over to one of my friends who did tech support and asked how things were, if there were enough drop-cloths to protect the screens from the drywall dust, how did he like his new car, good morning, god it's early isn't it? His supervisor came over and immediately started demanding loudly and in an oddly high-pitched voice about we weren't told about the extent of the work and how are we supposed to accommodate this and that. She was extremely irate and didn't seem to calm down at all as I sipped my coffee at her. She was getting more and more hysterical as she talked that I couldn't imagine what I could say that would make her relax enough to speak coherently. Not only that, I knew if I said anything even remotely like I'll get back to you or I'll take care of it, suddenly I would have this to manage along with my full-time job.

The net admin was sitting nearby; I had an audience. Also, it was not the designated time for me to start work. Also, I didn't recall signing on to come in early to be shouted at by panicky call centre supervisors. I picked up the nearest thing to me, a piece off a nearby stack of 8.5x11 white paper (ah the heady days of office procurement) handed it to her and said quietly, "Heather, this cares more than I do." The look on her face pretty much paid off in that moment for the inevitable trouble I was going to get into for saying something like that. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes went wide making her whole head resemble a bowling ball. I went straight back to my desk and told the manager overseeing the project what happened, including what I had said. It is to her credit that when Heather came to tell her that I had an "attitude problem" that she immediately said, "why, what did you do to provoke her?" Our friendship was forged at my interview, but solidified that day when for the first time, another human in my office recognized a cardinal rule that it is unfair to immediately pounce on the first person you see from one department and assume they are there to fix your problem. We worked together to finish that project properly and since then, according to those who know me in other offices in the city, it's become legend.

Worst Xmas Present

2008-01-01T22:29:00.000-05:00

Give it to me guppies!

This year it was a tie between a set of broken, poorly made silver gargoyle candleholders and a set of 5 fridge magnets of naked men with oven mitts. One of the men is wearing socks, possibly because he has Lupus, possibly for some other reason.

Let's hear it, the holiday is officially over. What was the worst one this year?

covert piano rescue

2008-01-01T21:54:00.000-05:00

This piano:

was in a house in Vancouver that was slated for demolition. I was there over the holiday where I met the house piano and this one. Friends of friends knew the people who had lived in the house and when they left it was more work to save than to demolish. The city was going to go in and the piano was going to go with it, so spicy K crept in the window while mom got a van and pulled it around front late one night. They hauled and rolled and now this piano lives in their house on the floor below their household piano. It needs some care, the tuning is off and it could use some cleaning. There was a bong sitting inside it and god knows what else.

It will take some time to resurrect, it will take some care and patience. But that piano is not going to dust with the mouldy house. Not today.

Christmas Holiday: Day Two

2007-12-26T19:25:00.000-05:00

Where is the spotlight this time? It began in many places, previous events that culminate up whenever the family is together. These tiny beginnings all coalesce and they are recalled in sequence depending on who is telling which story. Contorted crying faces, the gnashing of teeth, the pulling of hair. It is all so difficult and so satisfying.

Simple things become impossible, and oddly, the insurmountable seems illusory and perfectly doable at the back of the stage where all the sandbags and ropes hang waiting. At the front the lights play off emotional faces searching for sympathy from onlookers. At the front the lights shine off the sequins so brightly you can’t see the rips or loose threads. Instead of growing up, you grow out. Thin, bright and unreal.

She called me from the mountains the day after she arrived. “I’m here and so are they. They’re eating each other.” It had been easier apparently than cleaning out the kitchen to cook something more mundane. She ran on fumes for a few hours, a bulldozer in the china shop and dug a beachhead from which to make next moves. He called in from other mountain tops too far north for an air-drop, so we did our best and manned the cannons for a long walk back to the island.

A magic green dragon is bagged and carried from her cliff-face to the circus. She eyes the loud birds through white bars and coughs corrosive spit balls when the door is closed. Her breath could melt bars and the cement floor if she was home, but this place is wide, fluorescent and exhausting. She challenges each powerful squawk with her galactic eyes and waits quietly for a chance to stomp out roaring; to return home.

A tiny journey turns the spotlight from a quiet cannibal gathering to the desperate, the frightening, the complete shock of a rear-end run around the city. A small crash and red cheeks become the divas flailing hands and weepy face. The shock of it all, the thrill. A trembling lower lip as he bravely faces papers and schedules and phone calls. Big hugs in the living room, deep sighs. All okay, he soldiers on.

The light swings across the width of maps as a heart stops on a tarmac and a mermaid sardines in grey leather all night. Vertigo and dry air make static spark off sparkly scales vaselined and tightly tinned for the occasion. Tiny lights become rooms, squares of circuitry enlarge into roofs and doors and windows. We hug and stretch and stroke the cats hello.

A broken thumb picks out notes on a banjo. They float out from between mountain sides and find a road, a saxophone’s bell, a smouldering roar. She distracts the women long enough to take their teeth from legs and handy glasses. Her notes meet the winter fruit in the Rockies, and further to the family ham in a craggy, coastal suburb. The dragon calls and lifts our music. Until we are together again, you work stage left, I’m hauling ropes stage right. Leave the lights on him and meet me out back tomorrow.

only to be expected

2007-12-26T19:09:00.000-05:00

Christmas Holiday Day One:

The corkscrew fits directly into the bottleneck and as I turn it down further in it breaks off completely. A small metal screw is sticking out of the wine bottle and in my hand is the corkscrew without the screw. I briefly imagine that the universe is telling me not to drink, that I can simply sit back and enjoy my evening with juice or water. I imagine smiling warmly at my family as they arrive. I picture us hugging and saying hello, sitting down and catching up sober and clear-headed. I look back at the wine bottle and regain my senses.

I try with a pair of pliers to get the screw out of the cork and when I accidentally close the pliers on my fingers drawing blood, I take them back to the toolbox. My eyes rest on my oldest, most trusted tool I own. A long-handled 4" hammer that has seen me through thick and thin since I got it ten years ago. I put the wine bottle between my knees and hook the corkscrew in the hammer tail and haul on it. Not much glass broke off with the hammer head braced against the mouth. After a few more tries the bottle opens and I can enjoy a glass of cheap, sweet wine secure in the knowledge that any family encounter that comes up will be well cushioned with fuzzy awareness and small shards of broken glass.

Myth vs Truth: biased comparisons from Propaganda 101

2007-12-20T16:46:00.000-05:00

In recent discussions about the proposed Act to Amend the Copyright Act in Canada, ACTRA (the Alliance of Canadian Cinema, Television and Radio Artists) has made it's position public with a binary argument Truth vs Myth. The idea being that ACTRA's opinion is the 'truth' and the opinions of those who disagree with ACTRA is a 'myth'. It's not terribly elegant, but in the toolbox of language, the cliche is as reliable as a hammer.

Like any far-reaching and diverse issue, there are many truths and almost-truths and grey areas that need to be explored. For example, ACTRA suggests that instead of being on the side of big-business, they are on the side of artists. Well, this is almost true. They do represent many artists, particularly those who have their work published by large companies. They fail to mention how many artists are against the venture and how many small-businesses could be harmed by the proposal.

In the interest of generating more discussion instead dumbing down positions (which should tell us all something about what ACTRA thinks of us), I offer this excellent response to ACTRA's position. It was written by Geoffrey Glass of Simon Fraser and I think it is a great step towards an actual conversation about this issue rather than catch-phrases and buzzwords.

ACTRA's official position can be found here.

Here is Mr. Glass's response:

ACTRA, which supports stronger copyright controls and the implementation of the WIPO treaty, has published a document titled "Myths and Truths about the Proposed Changes to Canad's Copyright Act". This document is problematic because it ignores the gravest concerns of critics of the proposed law, while providing incomplete or misleading information about some matters. I will go over it point by point.

* ACTRA claims that the new law will not make time-shifting illegal (time-shifting is the practice of recording something to watch it later - e.g. on a VCR). Currently, Canadians are permitted to make copies for private use - including time shifting. The major industry lobbies pushing for copyright revision want the government to remove this exemption. We don't know whether that's in the bill because, as ACTRA says, the text of the bill hasn't yet been made public.

* There are serious problems with legal protection for so-called digital locks ("DRM" or "TPMs"). ACTRA's comparison of these locks to physical locks on your house or car are misleading. If laws like this were applied to cars and houses, it would be illegal to change the locks on your own house. In the case of a digital lock on a DVD, for example, the lock is part of your DVD player - but it's not there to protect you; it's there to protect Hollywood from you. This law would make it illegal for you to break the lock on your own property.

* ACTRA claims that protection of DRM will produce more choice for consumers. In fact, consumers have resoundingly rejected technology that restricts their ability to view or make legitimate use of the media they purchase. That "Canadians have fewer digital services and pay higher prices than U.S. customers" is a red herring. This applies to many goods and services in Canada, from books to computer hardware. We are a smaller market; accordingly, we suffer from less choice, less market competition, until recently a lower dollar - and thus from higher prices.

* Canada has been lobbied heavily by Hollywood, the American recording industry, and by Canadian businesses heavily dependent on these industries (such as ACTRA). The U.S. ambassador and trade representative have personally pressured Canada to implement these changes. Canada is under no obligation to ratify the treaty - the United States certainly isn't known for ratifying treaties it doesn't like (such as Kyoto, the International Criminal Court, or the international treaty to restrict land mines). In fact, it wasn't until 1988 that the United States got religion and implemented the 1883 copyright treaty mentioned by ACTRA.

* One of the central provisions of the WIPO treaty, and the one to which many Canadians are opposed, would make it illegal to circumvent DRM. The American DMCA implemented the same treaty, but went beyond the treaty's requirements. The United States is pressuring Canada to follow suit. Whether this qualifies as "mimicing" or not is beside the point.

* The privacy implications of WIPO ratification have concerned four Canadian privacy commissioners[1]. DRM built into the Windows operating system, for example, sends information to Microsoft. The infamous Sony rootkit opened up security vulnerabilities on the computers of legitimate customers.

* ACTRA is probably correct that the unauthorized downloading of copyrighted material is illegal in Canada, though there has been some question on this point. In fact, CRIA (the Canadian equivalent of the American recording industry association, which represents primarily American labels) wants to eliminate the levy on blank media (recordable CDs etc.) because they suggest it makes downloading legal.

* Hopefully ACTRA is correct that the music industry will not sue "single mums and innocent users" - though the same companies have not held back in the United States. It seems odd to want to change the law and eliminate levies otherwise.

* Interoperability problems between music players are not like the differences between Beta and VHS tapes. They are almost always the result of incompatible DRM schemes. Breaking DRM could allow music to be transferred between devices, but the new law would make that illegal.

* ACTRA is correct that the amendment is not expected to include a blank media levy. There is some question as to whether the existing levy compensates for downloading - as mentioned above.

* To the extent that the government has consulted with the Canadian public, the public has rejected the WIPO treaty. In 2001, a government consultation requested submissions from Canadians. Approximately 700 individuals and organizations responded. Of those who addressed the DRM-related provisions of the WIPO treaty, 93% were opposed[2]. Since then, there have been tremendous changes in the digital landscape. In 2001 there was no YouTube; the first iPod was only launched in October of that year. Nevertheless, there has been no subsequent public consultation and the government developed a bill to ratify WIPO.

* Commercial piracy, as is practiced in some parts of Asia, certainly hurts performers. WIPO implementation likely have little or no impact on piracy - all DRM can be circumvented; all it takes is one copy and the cat's out of the bag - both for commercial pirates, and for private filesharing. On the other hand, the economic impact of filesharing is ambiguous. A number of studies have found little or no evidence that filesharing results in a net loss of sales, as it can lead to increased exposure for artists. While some artists are likely hurt, others base their businesses on filesharing. The greatest threat of filesharing is not to performers, but to companies engaged in distribution and marketing - such as the large recording companies - who risk being cut out of the loop.

* The "old legal concepts" referred to by ACTRA may be copyright law itself. In place of the human rules of copyright, DRM substitutes the inflexible law of the machine. Legitimate freedoms that consumers had under copyright can simply be forbidden by digital locks, and there will be no recourse because circumventing these locks will be illegal. This kind of "choice" by performers will dramatically narrow the choices available to consumers (and to performers, as I explain below and it [4]).

* ACTRA is correct that the "making available" right would be new. I am not well versed on this. However, according to Professor Tom Flanagan it "ignores the consumer in favor of the producer, to solve problems that don't exist"[3].

* The apparent choice offered to performers is an illusion. For a long time, performers have been at the mercy of powerful distributors. For many performers, digital technology offers the opportunity for more contact with their fans and for new modes of distribution. This law would instead enhance the control of distributors and technology companies who control the DRM.

* I cannot know the reasons why ACTRA supports this law. The making available right would likely be economically beneficial to its members. Legal protection of DRM, however, would not. These are industries in transition. Some performers believe their livelihoods are at risk. Some are dependent on an American industry that would benefit if Canada adopts these laws (because they control the DRM, because it would prevent innovative competitors from establishing themselves, because it would entrench their ideology of control). Some believe that their hard work and creativity are being disrespected. Established channels of distribution and marketing, and established patterns of business oriented around the creation of hit movies and chart-topping music are changing and being undercut. A technology offered a silver bullet to stop copying is compelling, especially when set against the specter gangs of arrogant teenagers and twenty-somethings eager to get their entertainment for free without paying a penny. The companies who sell DRM benefit from it - they gain a market, and they gain control[4]. But DRM doesn't work for performers or artists - or for consumers. And that is why many Canadian creators, consumers, and citizens oppose this law.

[1] http://www.michaelgeist.ca/content/view/1389/195
[2] http://www.digital-copyright.ca/node/4428
[3] http://www.michaelgeist.ca/content/view/1174/
[4] http://www.geof.net/blog/2007/12/08/bad-canadian-copyright

Made in Canada

2007-12-19T16:39:00.000-05:00

While I've been on the subject of our beloved Industry Minister espousing policies against Canadian industry, this seems like a great time to discuss why our government is actually preventing a successful company from selling Canadian products in Canada. The ZENN car, Zero Emissions No Noise, runs on a battery that is plugged into a regular socket. It is being sold in Europe and the United States, but not here, because until recently, it was illegal on the road. It has been approved now, with the requirement that provinces individually regulate it's use individually. It's available in B.C. only right now, though it is made in Quebec.

It's a publicly traded company as of now and I love using money to stick it to the federal government. This year, I'm buying Canadian.

To Market To Market

2007-12-17T08:58:00.000-05:00

Can it happen? I think so. People everywhere are talking about Radiohead's internet album release, and though it's only the latest manifestation of artists innovating away from corporate business practices, it's getting quite a buzz. Not everyone can profit the same way Radiohead did and not everyone has a financial cushion to fall back on if their idea doesn't work. Many artists have been touring as a main source of income as most of the time it's the artist who pays for the tour, the record company only pays for promotion. Comedians work the same way and often their albums are released on smaller, private labels.

Television is different. As my boy Marshall so eloquently said about light bulbs, "the medium is the message". He was talking about the way that information is disseminated and then absorbed by an audience. If the audience fundamentally changes based on the type of media they are exposed to, that in itself is a form of communication.

So, everyone has a TV. And if we don't, there is something very very wrong with us. We wonder about people who live without television. We contemplate our shared experiences, (that sharing due to television) and we recall our recent history, particularly in North America. What wasn't documented before television seems distant and somehow unreal. One of my favourite things to watch on television is people discussing the internet.

With the huge infrastructure created in the dotcom blitz of the nineties, there are now ample platforms out there for information sharing. And internet information, though similar in content to television, is participatory. This changes the audience in fundamental ways. Now the audience can interact with the content with varying degrees of effort, and most importantly, the audience is not based in a static demographic. This is hell on wheels for a marketing executive who's lived Neilson ratings their entire professional career and who suddenly has to allow for someone watching a viral video from any internet cafe on the planet, and who can alter the video, make it their own, and re-upload from anywhere else.

This takes much power away from market engineers who use cross-reference data to decide what to advertise to whom based on age, race, income, gender, location, location, location. And treating the entire internet audience like one big theatre is a huge expense. They have to make sure their content shows up first on search engines, but they want security over their product. They want many hits on their sites, but they don't want the word-of-mouth which in cyberspace is P2P. It's a hassle, and for many, it's a stretch for an old, leathery, half-curdled mind.

I sympathize. Really.

So now there are artists out there who are self-determining, creating their work, promoting themselves through self-funded tours and releasing their projects to a very specialized audience who specifically wants their product. There are now web-designers and creators who are writing their own code, peer reviewing for free and uploading their own sites and applications to other sites. In a climate like this, marketing dollars tend to go down the drain. One, because the word-of-mouth and viral properties of web information are faster and more efficient than advertising messages, and two, marketing practices do not successfully apply to the new technology. So instead of innovating, they try to turn internet content into television.

But some of the content we want so badly comes from highly expensive, professionally produced creators who come from the television platform. True, so how do these small production companies go fair trade? Start trading. The Daily Show is one of the most downloaded and uploaded shows available on the web. I have a feed on my facebook profile from Comedy Central that actually gives me segments of the show in small pieces. Adult Swim took the idea further by releasing shows in 15 minute formats. Not great in terms of payoff when you've spent hundreds on a 52" behemoth for your 8'x9' living room with stonehenge-like speakers, but perfect for the internet platform. The Simpsons proved that animated shows can produce long-term profit, and with advanced animation technology, it is now possible to make short clips with fewer animators.

There are possibilities here for small groups who wish to create and produce their own content for direct upload and companies who sell products will pay for the privilege of advertising with a popular show. Youtube now has a revenue-sharing program for directors who upload popular content for free, and many websites have advertising paid for by companies who want their site linked to popular content.

NBC's the Office created webisodes in which small clips of one main story were produced on existing sets and released in pieces on the NBC website which play immediately after an ad. This is exactly the platform that can work for anyone able to make entertaining content. Most sit-coms can now openly joke about their own show's product placement in the true spirit of post-modernism, and the smaller the group, the more likely the correct market group will be reached.

Toyota has no reason to show me advertising. I'm a student, I live in a city with cheap mass transit, I don't have parking near my building and I try to be as green as I can. They are throwing good money after bad by putting car commercials next to shows I might watch and placing their products in content I might enjoy. I'm not their target market, and neither are lots of people who like similar things I do. In terms of product quality, is there any amount of advertising that will convince me to get a Blackberry? No. I had one for work and my complaints about it were consistent and loud. The company that makes them has done nothing to improve their product and no amount of messages I will get from them will convince me. I will however, tell everyone I know (as I did in a carrying voice for many months until my boss relented and gave me back my cellphone) and that message will disseminate faster than the paid advertising.

Small production companies such as those who created Tetes a Claques have an opportunity to get advertising dollars from companies who want to sell to the right audience. The size of the infrastructure of the production allows for profit-sharing and stakeholder participation. In large corporations, shareholders direct policy based on their own self-interest. Small companies can do exactly the same thing, but instead of the shareholders holding monthly board meetings, the shareholders actively participate in making their product. Producers and writers can have control over the quality and content of their work and production staff would answer to the show creators instead of distant names on paycheques.

Each show would still meet the standards of the WGA and the SAG and whomever wishes to advertise with them would simply negotiate as usual. The content can be directly uploaded and marketed accordingly not to do with television principles, or the show can be locally produced and broadcast on local stations. If the shows finally wish to sell to cable or network programs they can, but as entities capable of negotiating for a proper market share rather than as individuals selling intellectual property.

Fair Trade television. Taking the Market back from "Marketing".

pants'd!

2007-12-17T08:44:00.000-05:00

It got drafty this morning in the offices of several high-profile communications companies. Worldwide Pants, producer of Late Night with David Letterman and the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson has taken steps towards negotiating with the writers union on an individual basis. In response to one of their production companies going off on their own and proposing an individual negotiation, the AMPTP suggested that the writer's union was disorganized and directionless.

Worldwide Pants has offered an interim agreement largely in line with the demands of the writers. In this way, the shows in question can continue, the writers can tentatively get what they deserve and negotiations can be pursued in a renewed spirit of partnership rather than opposition. Am I waxing too poetic? I was raised on picket lines and believe me, nothing is duller than standing around all day getting splinters from a sign proclaiming your wish to do your job.

I wish to congratulate the producers at Worldwide Pants for basing their offers on the power of thought. They have something they want done, they tacitly acknowledge the demands of their writers and they are coming to the table in order to meet a goal of producing rather than dismantling. Let's hope some of the bigger players get a whiff of good business practices in the days to come.

Home for the Holidays

2007-12-16T10:07:00.000-05:00

Just when you think it can't get any crazier, the Department of Housing and Urban Development in the US has actually approved plans to demolish existing low-income housing and apartments that survived hurricanes Katrina and Rita. The claim is that the buildings are unlivable and that the new housing will be "mixed income" (read: co-op) and could take two years to build.

Structural engineers, legal experts and local residents have all been in the building. They are not unlivable, they are in need of cleaning and small renovation such as baseboard replacement and floor tile repair.

The continued displacement of New Orleans residents over two years after the hurricanes is akin to Terry Gilliam's powerful film, Brazil. The bureaucracy and apathy residents are facing when attempting to get what is theirs from their local, state and federal governments along with such organizations as the Red Cross, is faulty by design. This type of behaviour is not only meant to block access to programs and activities available, but in fact to deter anyone from attempting to make changes at all.

While we absorb hard-hitting news stories about which toys are most popular and which contain the most lead this year, I'm gratified to know that the US government is doing precisely what it was designed to do.

Reply from the Bloc

2007-12-13T17:57:00.000-05:00

I wrote to Gilles Duceppe directly about the looming Copyright Reform Act. Not only is he the leader of a strong and fearless opposition party, he is my MP and represents my interests in Ottawa.

Here is the reply I received today:

Dear Ms. ********:

Thank you for your e-mail of December 7 regarding the looming introduction of an intellectual property bill by the Honourable Jim Prentice. We appreciate your concern about this important issue, which affects all of us directly.

Rest assured that, should the bill be introduced, the Bloc Québécois will take a hard look at it in the best interests of all stakeholders, especially artists.

Yours sincerely,

Karine Lafontaine
Correspondence Coordinator Assistant
Office of the Leader of the Bloc Québécois

It's all in, uh, ON, your head

2007-12-12T21:52:00.000-05:00

Aqsa Parvez died of strangulation in the early hours of this morning. She had fought with her father who is now charged with her murder. The articles in the following two links discuss the story:

CBC

Globe and Mail

In the second story, as discussed by the Globe and Mail, the events of the evening and this morning are discussed, along with the bail measures, the story of the rest of the family and other details about the trial.

I notice in the first article that the CBC cannot stop from falling all over it's own feet to discuss the "issue" of Muslim girls veiling and whether or not families have a right to force them to do so. They called experts from Canadian Muslim associations, they have quotes from the girls friends about her shopping habits and how much she didn't want to wear the big, scary, oppressive scarf.

I wonder why there is no discussion from expert paediatricians about the commonality of family abuse ending in death and how often girl children are the focus of family abuse. I wonder why there aren't quotes from the girl's friends about the father's history of violence as discussed by her brothers earlier today. Finally, the predictable symptoms of abuse seen by children's groups, women's rights groups and health officials regularly.

Does anyone out there truly believe that this man who regularly beat his children would have calmed down and peacefully gone about the loving actions of fatherhood if she had put a scarf on her head? Do these discussions do anything but reinforce the stereotype of Muslims as misogynistic, violent and irrational people?

None of this is about a scarf. It's about a woman, who died this morning at the hands of an all-too-common personality: an abusive father.

response from the CBC

2007-12-10T16:26:00.000-05:00

In recent days I wrote to the CBC Ombudsman about the lack of coverage to be found on the network of the upcoming Act to Amend the Copyright Act. CBC Search Engine posed questions on their website and tried to get a meeting with the Minister of Industry, Jim Prentice, but couldn't. The only other mention of it was a short article in the technology section. So I fired off this email:

Mr. Carlin,

It is with deep concern that I write to you today concerning the total lack
of coverage on the upcoming Amendment to the Copyright Act, on the notice
paper for next week. This is a significant issue and I am shocked to find
that only CBC's Search Engine has discussed the issue at all. The following
topics are areas of coverage:

1. The bill will severely limit the use of items purchased for full-retail
price by consumers. We will lose control over what we own.

2. Canadian businesses will be hobbled against innovation and independent
peer review.

3. Canadian archivists and librarians will be unable to preserve and promote
Canadian cultural items.

4. Emerging Canadian artists will be unable to promote themselves.

5. Canadian universities will be ill-equipped to teach students.

6. The Harper government laid waste to the Liberal leadership with a
centrepiece promise of transparency and accountability. As no consultation
is being undertaken with Canadians, they are in clear violation of their own
mandate.

We deserve a real discussion of this issue on the CBC and other news
organizations. It should be on the general website, the National, the Hour
and all over CBC Radio.

Sincerely,
*********

I was pleased to receive this reply today:

Dear Ms. *******:

I write to acknowledge receipt of your e-mail, which I have shared with senior programmers in CBC News and Current Affairs.

Yours truly,

Vince Carlin
CBC Ombudsman

Does it make a difference? It does to me. The nine programmers he refers to were cc'd on the email.

more strike talk

2007-12-10T10:58:00.001-05:00

Sound Opinion

2007-12-10T09:35:00.000-05:00

Here is a link to a great radio show discussing the recent lawsuits against university students in Oregon.

soundopinions show

1 In what is turning into a regular Sound Opinions segment: “The Recording Industry vs. The Consumer,” Jim and Greg turn this week to a news item coming out of Oregon. Earlier this year the RIAA filed a lawsuit accusing 17 unnamed suspected University of Oregon students of illegally sharing music. The suspects are identified only by an Internet address, and industry lawyers have demanded that the university identify them. Previously when the RIAA has done this, universities cooperate. But the University of Oregon’s response has been quite remarkable. UO officials are refusing to identify the students without an investigation, saying that this would compromise their privacy and property rights. Oregon’s Attorney General has backed the school and is accusing the RIAA of bullying. Jim and Greg speak to Tony Green, a reporter at the Oregonian, about what is fast becoming a contentious battle.

Here are more links to the show notes.

Letter to Dion

2007-12-09T13:13:00.000-05:00

And here is my letter to Stephane Dion, the current leader of the official opposition:

The proposed Amendment to the Copyright Act to be tabled on Monday is simply unacceptable for any Canadian citizen.

As an academic, I know you understand how important it is to teachers to be able to use excerpts of recorded television shows, artistic productions, speeches and software in order to properly educate Canadians. Librarians and archivists in this country deserve nothing less than the highest support by legislation and funding to promote and care for the cultural property of our country. The guarantee of access to our artistic creations is what allows us to develop our history, our sovereignty, our very identity.

As a Quebecer, I'm sure you know how deeply the need to protect our cultural integrity is felt. We deserve a government that will not only discuss our culture publicly, but who will work to develop and promote it worldwide. For centuries now we have struggled with assimilation that has been felt in First Nations communities, Atlantic Provinces and Quebec and we will not calmly let the waters submerge us in North American homogenization.

The Harper government is taking your party's current difficulties as a signal to act as though mandated. They are not consulting with Canadians, they are not building coalitions, they are not seeking expert opinions and they are not delivering on their promise to create openness and transparency. You are the leader of the opposition and this moment is pivotal. This is not the time to live to fight another day. Our industries will be criminalized out of innovation; they will fall like softwood into codless seas. Our artists will be financially subdued into silence and financial ruin. Our students will circle old concepts like vultures with no hope of a new idea or future of rewarded intelligence.

You propose to lead my country. Stand and do it now.

Sincerely,
FWM

Committment to disclosure con't

2007-12-09T13:12:00.000-05:00

...this too.

Committment to disclosure

2007-12-09T12:44:00.000-05:00

The following can be found on the website of Canadian Heritage

Copyright Policy Branch

The Copyright Policy Branch of the Department of Canadian Heritage, in co-operation with the Intellectual Property Policy Directorate of Industry Canada, is responsible for formulating and implementing an integrated Canadian copyright policy.

Its task is to develop an up-to-date legislative framework and to continually improve the balance of copyright protection in Canada. This involves taking into account legal and technological developments which affect copyright protection, whether in Canada or abroad.

The Copyright Policy Branch works with creators, authors, producers, user groups, interest groups and the public at large to develop appropriate policies underlying the Copyright Act.

The Copyright Policy Branch Web site is intended to:

* provide general information to the public;
* update stakeholders on a regular basis about copyright - related news and developments;
* seek comments from and generally consult with stakeholders and other interested parties on legislative proposals, discussion papers and other policy documents.

Letter to Williams

2007-12-09T11:46:00.001-05:00

This is what I wrote to Danny Williams, the premier of Newfoundland and Labrador, one of the loudest critics of the Harper government.

Dear Mr. Williams,

As a steadfast opponent of the Harper government, I hope you will stand publicly against the proposed Amendment to the Copyright Act. This bill is not on economically inviable, it criminalizes regular Canadians who support the arts in this country.

You stand at a place in time where universities are desperately underfunded, where Canadian culture is being disappeared and where long-standing Canadian industries are falling like softwood into codless depths.

The current Ministers of Industry, Heritage and Education will not stand to protect and support the people of Newfoundland and Labrador as they navigate difficult times. They stood against you on the oil deal and they stand against you now. New industries, artists and educators cannot innovate, create or teach without the full-throated support of a government willing to fund and legislate towards access and promotion. This is a bad bill and your constituents deserve to know. This is one more way of ensuring that satellite industries that could develop in the wake of your impressive oil coup will not be supported, but in fact will be criminalized by the provisions in the bill that act against fair-use and open source reviews.

I hope you will join with us to stand against this backwards, draconian bill that impoverishes all of Canada.

Sincerely,
FWM

Letter to Prentice

2007-12-09T11:32:00.001-05:00

Here is my letter to the Minister of Industry, Jim Prentice. In the interest of Fair Use and Full-Disclosure, I cribbed two paragraphs from an eloquent letter posted to a Facebook group. Regular readers will enjoy figuring out which is which!

I am deeply concerned about the upcoming Act to Amend the Copyright Act for several reasons I will outline in this letter.

This is one of the most important issues of our generation. Unbalanced copyright attacks creativity and it threatens the economy. Economists know that excessive copyright regulation is a form of business subsidy that creates inherently inefficient monopolies, increasing costs while hindering creativity and innovation. As the Minister of Industry, I’m certain you are aware of this fact, and no doubt you’ve correctly adjusted the bill to prevent any threat to Canada’s economy. Like you did with the softwood lumber deal.

Increasing the complexity and scope of the law threatens to criminalize an entire generation for enjoying Canadian culture. This would entail huge enforcement and security costs for Canada with no prospect for success beyond bringing the law into disrepute. And for what? The law would not stop pirates, but the most innovative players in Canadian technological and cultural industries would be hobbled, placed at a disadvantage relative to their American competitors.

It was an artist who told me about this. A Canadian artist who sells cds at shows to make ends meet. She is a highly educated, highly respected musician who deserves nothing less than the full-throated support of an office of Industry and Heritage to allow her to succeed. If she moves to France to play, that’s where her tax dollars will go. When I pay to download her music from her site, that’s where my money will go too.

I brought together some ideas to make my point about the issue of copyrighting in Canada. The companies you have consulted with are currently refusing to pay artists for sale of their products which has resulted in a strike in the US. These people are not protecting artists, they are protecting themselves against the discomfort of innovation necessary to rescue them from outdated business models.

Passport Canada underwent a security breach and no-one from Passport or Service Canada had any idea until a free, independent, peer review took place when a regular Canadian citizen applied for his passport and discovered the flaw. Small companies who use open-source platforms always innovate ahead of their competitors who then buy them and wade into deep mud, as has been seen by Youtube’s initial success and current lawsuit. No-one wanted their money until Google bought them, only then was Viacom suddenly threatened by illegal videos.

Finally, our universities and libraries are some of the finest to be found anywhere. We pay huge amounts of money to attend world-class schools and we deserve bang for our buck. In Montreal, the John Molson School of Business is one of the highest attended programs in my university and threatening their ability to teach software and archive content is ludicrous. As the Minister of Industry, you must take charge of creating the very workforce you oversee. Our success can be unprecedented with the right leadership.

I have no delusions about the overall agenda of this government. When revisions to the criminal code relating to young offenders are compared against this act, the appalling destruction of our softwood lumber industry and the recent SPP summit in Montebello, I am certain that you and the other members of your cabinet will waste no breath on public conferences or indeed expert opinion.

The budget of the office of the Status of Women in Canada has been reduced to a pittance, as has the budget for the Canada Council for the Arts. I have no doubt that the student loan guarantee program is next, to be replaced with Lifetime Learning only available to those who can get a bank account and afford to create an RRSP. By defunding groups most likely to disagree with you, you suspect you are better protected from public dissent. Rest assured Mr. Prentice, Erstwhile minister of Industry, you will look back wistfully at the glorious times when you knew where the money came from and could more easily track the strategies of artists, students and women.

Yours very unhappily,
FWM

Sound Consultation

2007-12-08T15:47:00.000-05:00

When you're finished contacting your MPs and the PM and the Industry Minister, the following groups need to be contacted to take a loud, forceful, public stand against the upcoming Act to Amend the Copyright Act:

SOCAN (Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada)

Contact page
email

Writer's Union of Canada

Songwriter's Association of Canada

Quebec Writer's Federation

Canadian Library Association

Freedom of Expression Committee

Book and Periodical Council

Quebec Library Association

Council of Prairie and Pacific University Libraries

Library and Archives Canada

Association of Canadian Publishers

Canadian Music Publishers Association

Documentary Organization of Canada

CBC Ombudsman

We all stand to lose something in this, and organizations like these need to stand together.

My Letter to Layton

2007-12-07T18:31:00.000-05:00

Jack Layton, the champion of the little guy and supposed friend of unions everywhere needs to oppose the amendment to the Copyright Act being tabled next week. Here is my letter to him:

Hello Mr. Layton,

I am writing to you to voice my strong opposition to the amendment tabled for next week. Like much of the 'legislation' proposed by this government, the bill claims to be one thing when it is in fact another. Does anyone seriously believe that a government that drastically reduced the Council for the Arts budget is acting out of sympathy for Canadian artists? Indie artists work extremely hard for free most of the time. For shows where they are paid, it is generally not enough to cover the expenses of getting their instruments to the venue. Radio appearances are done for free, albums are produced locally with dedicated engineers who often work without pay and if anyone can afford promotional items such as t-shirts or keychains, they are sold at a loss. This bill will severely limit the ability of emerging artists to promote themselves.

Canadian writers are among the best in the world. We are known for winning international prizes and so many of our great novels are created thanks to the Canada Council for the Arts. To sell their work, writers count on festivals, indie publishers, free magazines, and most importantly cross-promotion to succeed as writers. This bill will limit writers from discussing their and each other's work, their ability to offer excerpts to various media and to reach other markets.

Canadian universities are sought after the world over by intelligent and passionate people who desire the highest education available. University collaboration is only one of the reasons, the others include our libraries, publications and educators. Limiting librarians from archiving and discussing files is the very antithesis of higher education. Professors failing to discuss and distribute work is anathema to intelligent learning and limiting the availability of Ph.D. students from publishing their work due to fair-use clauses is very simply an attack on thought.

Scientists worldwide depend on the participation of other scientists in peer reviews to test theories, medicines and technologies. Software engineers independently peer-review their work in a format known as open-source in order to instantly harness the vast innovation available everywhere by passionate, willing participants. Without these, we would never have some of the technologies we rely on day to day.

The Conservative government is not out to protect artists. If they were, SOCAN would be funded to the gills, the writers' union would be as strong as the military and artists wouldn't have to wear out the knees in their pant legs begging for tiny percentages of revenue generated by their own products. This bill is draconian, uncalled-for and simply unbecoming of Canadians everywhere.

Protect artists. Oppose the bill.

A spiritual intervention

2007-12-06T12:23:00.000-05:00

Watch as striking Horror writers exorcise the demons in Hollyood!

Chasing their tails

2007-12-06T10:05:00.000-05:00

So. This week it seems to be about privacy. Not so much me, but the fabulous workings of my government's leadership, who by the way, I did not vote for.

In the US, a wide-spread writer's strike has affected network and cable television shows across the board. Communication companies have reacted by refusing to negotiate and by firing production staff. The main complaint is that the writers of the shows and the promos and the webisdodes are not being paid for re-runs on the internet, legal downloads from network websites and dvd residuals. The companies claim that internet content is promotional only and cannot be counted as full content. DVD residuals actually are in the collective agreement, but they aren't being paid. Under the provisions of the WGA agreement, writers will be paid 4 cents for every dvd sold, at an average price of $19.99 US, with the understanding that as the dvd business increases, so will the share. They are asking for another 4 cents, making a total of 8 cents per dvd sold. The strike continues as the networks and cable companies refuse to budge.

Next, Passport Canada underwent a gigantic security breach, not due to a virus, a hacker or a mistake on the part of a minister, but due simply to the way the website works. A regular person, an IT worker for Algonquin Automotive found out simply by applying for his passport in the usual way. He is a curious person, so as he was finishing, he changed a few keystrokes and found basic personal information on other people, like driver's licenses, birth certificates and firearms licenses, at his fingertips. He immediately contacted Passport Canada who looked into the problem. The office now claims the breach is repaired (it isn't according to others) and an audit is underway.

Finally, this week is the likely the week that the Canadian version of the DMCA, Digital Millenium Copyright Act, is to be tabled. In it, the copyright provisions are so strenuous, if you were to purchase a cd for the full-price from a legitimate retailer, rip it on your computer unshared with anyone, put it on your mp3 player to listen to, you will have committed heinous, egregious, naughty naughty copyright infringement. You owe the company who sold you the cd serious money. You'll just have to purchase a copy for your mp3 player, a copy for your stereo and a copy for your phone. If your OS requires software updates that don't recognize your legally purchased file, you'd better buy another copy, or suffer the consequences of white collar criminals everywhere. You also can't unlock something to find out how it works, or record a television show in order to watch it later.

To review: big wealthy companies who are making billions of dollars on internet downloads and dvd sales are refusing to pay artists who create their products. They are lobbying our government and the US government to "protect their product" by claiming that artists are being ripped off by people who enjoy their work. The government's response is to clamp down on open-source and file sharing platforms in a spectacular bid to protect the interests of corporations seemingly under attack by the citizens who voted the government into power in the first place. The government reserves the right to distribute personal information to anyone anywhere due to a mistake brought to their attention by free independent peer review.

I'll be writing to the following people this week to ask for clarification, or at least a Canada Counsel for the Arts grant to fairly publish and distribute 8.5 x 11 laminated copies of my birth certificate, health card, high-school diploma, records of employment, lists of previous addresses, my unlisted phone number, email addresses, forum and social networking passwords and usernames and photo albums, which, once published, will be unwaveringly protected by my government as a consumer product. Woe be to those who attempt to copy them!

Find your mp and write to them.

Stephen Harper, our erstwhile Prime Minister
Jim Prentice, Minister of Industry
Josee Verner, Minister of Canadian Heritage

(an exhaustive list of government agencies to contact can be found here: Michael Geist.ca

Our news channels seem to have conspired to refuse to compete for a huge story, in clear violation of anti-trust laws in this country. The cbc ombudsman can be reached at the following coordinates on this subject:

ombudsman@cbc.ca

Mail:
Vince Carlin
Ombudsman
CBC
P.O. Box 500, Station A
Toronto, Ontario M5W 1E6
Fax: 416/205-2825
Tel.: 416/205-2978

The Globe and Mail, Letters to the Editor

The Globe and Mail, Senior Editors

Peter Mansbridge of CBC's The National

Telephone:
1-800-565-1422

Mail:
The National
Box 14,000 Station A
Toronto ON M5W 1E6

Ian Hanomansing of CBC's Canada Now

CBC News: Vancouver at Six Newsroom:
TEL: (604) 662-6802
FAX: (604) 662-6878

Mail:
CBC News: Vancouver at Six c/o CBC
Box 4600
Vancouver, BC
V6B 4A2

George Stephanopoulous of CBC's The Hour

Lloyd Robertson, ostensibly Canada's most trusted news anchor who hasn't mentioned this on CTV news yet.

Global News

Laws and Technology: Running to Catch Up

2007-12-06T09:42:00.000-05:00

One of my favourite things to randomly repeat to strangers, usually when I'm at the bar is this: "Artists never suffer from people hearing their work." Even struggling artists just emerging from their careers know very well how important it is to get out there. The proof? All the free stuff they do! They do free radio appearances, appear at festivals for free, perform often for less than it costs them to get their equipment/instruments to the venue and if they get enough capital together for t-shirts or other swag, even, gasp, an album, it's invariably sold at a loss. Artists in fact need people to listen, enjoy, discuss, exchange, copy, distribute and re-distribute their work, otherwise they are artists of nothing so much as masturbation.

Open source code? That's based on a little thing the international medical profession calls 'peer review'. It's not mandatory, but it is telling that companies who ask for expert advice and get it for free from other experts because they love what they're doing and are interested and curious and willing to invest thought and innovation because of their passion will make significantly more money and claim more of the market share than their counterparts.

White-knuckled, frothy mouthed company execs however, who play chicken with artists who innovate, who withhold marketing/distribution dollars based on record sales, who refuse to seek advice from experts, whose leather executive seats are in fact stuffed with dead laurel leaves gained by becoming the distribution behemoths they are, are the only beings who will suffer from expert collaborative efforts released to willing audiences. Artists who become well-known for what they do will not suffer from discussion or peer to peer distribution. But there are some 6 figure business people whose backsides may need extra support when the stuffing in their chairs gets thin.

Where the issue is downloads and naughty naughty copying, here's the treat: study after study after study show that people who download most are also the most likely to make purchases.

I'll be writing letters this week.

Passports and Privacy, it's getting personal

2007-12-04T11:44:00.000-05:00

For anyone out there who is fed up with the complicity of our government policy with that of the US, feel free to begin tearing your hair out now.

Remember when we could just cross the border with correct documentation? Remember the simplicity and speed with which truckers and businesspeople could simply go where they needed to go by proving they were citizens of Canada? Then in reaction to a terrorist incident which involved Canada in no way whatsoever, the government of the United States decided that Canadians needed passports in order to shop for cheap mp3 players, books and fishing tackle.

We complied, after all, that's what good neighbors do, and began a process by which the funding, size, number of employees, number of offices or even hours of business of Passport Canada were not augmented in the slightest, while Canadians who travel to the US without passports all of a sudden needed to get them. Chaos ensued, and I had a tall beer from the sidelines. The panic died down a little when a solution was implemented: Canadians would have an easier time getting their passports as now any Canadian citizen with a passport could guarantee the application of anyone else.

How does devaluing the passport promote security in any way? And why are we convinced that the terrorists and fraudsters, ostensibly who we're trying to stop, don't have guarantors they can call on? Fraud and embezzlement generally are undertaken by white men with university degrees, and the apparent terrorists who seem to be such a threat to North America are well-educated, mostly by us.

It gets better. Last week a guy filling out his application on-line was curious about the site and changed a few keystrokes to see what would happen. Personal information including social insurance numbers, driver's licenses and so on were readily available. He brought it to the attention of Passport Canada who took their site down for maintenance immediately. When they did, they claimed it was for other reasons. The site is back up and the problem still exists. You can very easily find personal information on other Canadians from Passport Canada, which I would call the jackpot since they provide basic documentation.

This must be bureaucratic retribution for the elimination of the citizenship of those hundreds of Canadians who weren't grandfathered into the country and only found out they'd been paying taxes as citizens for decades because no-one told them otherwise.

I just hope there aren't any naughty naughty terrorists who know how to use an internet browser that want to pose as shipping employees and want to CROSS THE BORDER!!!!!!!

That's the only way anyone is going to fix this nonsense; the privacy and security of Canadians everywhere is certainly the second prize.

More on the strike: hooray for Eddie Izzard

2007-12-02T12:37:00.000-05:00

Is rape a crime?

2007-12-02T09:11:00.000-05:00

I ask because if that law enforcer in Ohio gets off for the unprovoked electrocution of a pregnant woman in front of her child, there is really no reason to continue to keep rape on the law books as an illegal act. Why? and how are these events related?

Simple. Victim-blaming is the first line of defense for anyone who has done anything wrong. Small children blame each other all the time, and in fact one of my favourite quotes from Hunter Thompson is the repeated latin phrase Res Ipsa Loquitor. It literally means "the thing speaks for itself". It is used often in negligence cases. I use the example of marrying one's divorce lawyer and then being surprised that the marriage falls apart.

It's everywhere really, and though the legal side of it is meant for tort cases, the argument has been carried out towards rape survivors for centuries. 'Your honour, what did she expect walking around like that/in that part of town/unescorted/with other girls like that/working as a prostitute/staying after class/knocking on doors/getting into his car...' ad nauseaum.

In this case, the apparent wrongdoing was towards the unborn child of the woman in question. Apparently, if the woman had properly announced her pregnancy, by wearing a sign or something, the officer would have backed off out of kindheartedness. Or at least out of reverential fear of all things vaginal. But she didn't, and so it was perfectly alright to arrest a pregnant woman in front of her child and electrocute her when she flailed around on the ground underneath a uniformed officer.

Police everywhere are under our scrutiny and paid by our tax dollars ostensibly to protect us from those who would harm us. If police officers are permitted to simply electrocute the bodies of women who are somehow 'asking for it' how can we ever expect them to seriously arrest and prosecute violent rapists? If a person can somehow ask to be electrocuted, they can most certainly ask to be raped. This is how blaming the victims ties all violence together.

When shocks can be inserted into your nervous system by way of small rips in your skin from metal clips shot from a gun, when you can be seen to have willingly requested such treatment through action, then a rape can most certainly be a request.

TASER International stocks have soared in the last year and this Christmas marks record sales. As more of us die by electrocution in streets and doorways I must admonish the profiteering of TASER International who use police and coroners as salesmen. May your bodies shake with heat and humiliation, may your begging for mercy be met with pointed fingers and merry laughter. May smoke float from your ears as static arcs across your eyeballs and flies off your lashes like airborne tears.

May police find you one day agitated. Your comfort is our silence.

further and further from reality

2007-12-02T08:36:00.001-05:00

The following video depicts a pregnant woman undergoing electrocution by law enforcement:

So, in the delightful video, we see a pregnant woman being electrocuted by police. She is only arrested after the incident at which point she is agitated. In a spectacularly blithe fashion, the officer interviewed displays the traditional response of blaming the victim for the for the actions of aggressors. This is a constant worldwide usually in cases of rape and sexual assault. Dare I bother to mention that Thomas A. Smith Electric Rifles are not to be used on pregnant women? Is there any reason at all to comment on the judgment of a male police officer who calls a crying woman "agitated". She was trying to drop off her child that day and became upset when the conversation started up. In this case, a hanky would have sufficed as an introductory device.

Of course, she should have told them she was pregnant, she should have announced it, she shouldn't have gotten upset, she shouldn't have thrashed around in fright, she should have offered her other arm. Blaming the victim: the safest net available for law enforcers everywhere.

When families strike

2007-11-27T12:27:00.000-05:00

How do labour strikes affect the day to day lives of the families of workers on strike? I remember being on the teacher's picket lines in Ottawa twice as a child. It's not only the income lost, it's the quality of life for the whole family affected. Here now, a dramatization:

big idea # 1123

2007-11-23T18:12:00.000-05:00

So, as usual, the creative forces in charge of inspiring and entertaining us are being usurped by stone-faced corporate executives. We've seen it before and it's usually more under the table. More product-placement-and-let's-all-join-the-army messages in our day to day media. Nuffin new. But the people in charge this time around don't seem to be concerned that they are losing the zeitgeist participants who actually make the product they sell. The appearance is that some will return, most won't and after the "streamlining process" it the excess won't matter.

Up until now, the operation was fairly simple: you get signed, and everything you think of even if you're on vacation, it's four am and you were dreaming about something that happened to you as a child, no matter what it is, they own what's in your head. If you stumble onto a Burton-like situation as in the case of Disney's Jack Skelington character, you'll fight for what's yours, but you will likely be paid in the end.

Now there's a new player and the suitcoats are treating with aplomb and hegemony: cyberspace. The electronic information exchange where they can manifest their latest destiny. As such, they can at once claim it is profitless and make billions of dollars. And the writers? Why should they be paid for what they create? It's not like Steve Jobs or Bill Gates or Ralph Lauren get all bent out of shape when other people make a profit off of their products. I mean for god's sake, there are warm-hearted, humane, compassionate drug companies out there failing entirely to threaten the future of humanity by putting aside patent disputes on AIDS and Cancer drugs.

So the writers are in good company. Here's what I think they should do: webdesigners are non-unionized (so far, and hey, get on that guys!). They should hook up with as many independant webdesigners as possible and produce their own work for exclusive release on the web. They might need actors, but I hear a few members of the screen actors guild are off work at the moment for some coincidental reason. Yep, you're coming to it:

Fair Trade Television

Writers, Actors, Producers & Directors should all partake in the profit in what they create, along with amply stablizing the income of assistant gaffers, production assistants and camera crew who all need to make their mortgage payments. There's a free platform out there to offer work to the public. Adult Swim showed us that smaller time-slots don't affect a show's popularity and the people who buy adspace don't care who they're using. Target has no solidarity with Disney, Best Buy doesn't give a damn which network website carries their ads as long as people are watching.

This is the moment. Make it what it's supposed to be and leave the companies who want you out where they so richly belong: high and dry on the 51st floor. With silent phones and a prudent accounting department.

I'd watch.

more on the writer's strike

2007-11-23T18:07:00.001-05:00

DEPO Unrest

2007-11-23T17:17:00.000-05:00

Like most people, I spend my leisure time observing post-market surveillance of theraputic drugs and emerging pharmaceutical technologies not supported by the for-profit drug industry.

I usually just skim what's out there and then make a sandwich, but I found something just disturbing enough to write about last Thursday.

I have a deep natural bias against the authority figures who offer me information. I naturally suspect what white male supremacist companies and corporations offer me, so it is with unease and distrust that I observe ads for birth control pills that claim to make me more independent. They do on one level, but they are only marketed to women, making us solely responsible for birth control (what else is new?) and implicitly reminding both men and women that men are untrustworthy oversexed ogres. If men are never treated as capable of responsibility, why on earth will they ever step up to act responsibly? I find the whole thing deeply insulting, but again, what else is new?

So imagine my surprise to find that Depo Provera, a drug I've been told repeatedly is one of the safest and most advanced forms of birth control out there is not approved to be sold as birth control in Canada. I'll just repeat that: Depo Provera is NOT approved by Health Canada to be sold as birth control in this country. According to Health Canada, it is to be used only to treat endometriosis and selected cancers. Upjohn Canada doesn't feel this is a huge hurdle, and apparently it isn't. Depo Provera is still repeatedly prescribed by doctors to be used as a birth control pill for women despite Health Canada refusing to approve it. Their reason? It irreversibly reverses bone density. Sort of a shop till you drop situation.

Many such drugs that are designed to alter hormone imbalances have long-lasting side-effects, the nature of which is nowhere close to being understood since the drugs are so new. The hormonal birth control movement itself has been described as the largest live study ever undertaken with almost no accountability, no follow-up or indeed, curiosity.

When wealthy white men tell me that I can be more in control of my body by drastically altering it's hormonal makeup, I have to stop for at least a moment and admire the art of their sophistry. Apparently, the way out is through. By dramatically altering my emotions, weight, blood flow, bone density and increasing my risk of heart disease, stroke, infertility, cancer et cetera, I'm (according to them) taking charge of my life, my body, my freedom, ad nauseum.

On the subject of strokes, nurses in neurological wards apparently see pill strokes all the time. When eighteen-year-olds get migraines, that can't be why. So we continue to coagulate our blood and increase the amount of blood clots we get and tiiiiiimbeeeeeeeer.

There is no argument about the day to day lifestyle changes the pill has allowed for. A new drug consumer-base was created, families could more easily plan their size and so direct their money to commodity items, lower-class women had a better chance of limiting their dependents and so on. However, since it is women who are being tested on sometimes against their will or without their knowledge, and since it is white male owned & operated pharmaceuticals who benefit, I must strongly suggest limiting the use of such toxic, behaviour altering drugs.

For anyone out there who's on it and just skipped to the end: Depo Provera is NOT approved for sale as a birth control drug in Canada.

what would a world without writers be?

2007-11-20T17:23:00.000-05:00

This video is genius!

and so is this one:

Join the virtual picket line here: Hollywood Interrupted

writer's strike

2007-11-20T16:25:00.000-05:00

As a writer used to being uncompensated for carefully crafted work (this blog notwithstanding the 'crafted' assertion), I sympathize utterly with the writers in hollywood who are on strike until their demands for proper compensation are met. I've heard some pretty nasty things being said about the underpaid creative class, along the lines of 'they're greedy', 'they're insulting blue collar workers and labour unions', 'they are already overpaid', etc. Well, since writers are particularly well-suited to getting their messages out, I found some wonderful explanations of the dispute from the writers themselves. Ironically the main point of contention between the writers and the studios they work for is internet rights and the internet is where the information is being delivered.

Here's one from the writers of the Daily Show:

This next one is from the Office:

This is from the Writers Guild of America:

From the good people who bring us the Simpsons:

From Seth MacFarlane (btw, Family Guy was cancelled and brought back due to huge dvd sales which writers were not compensated for):

An eloquent and passionate dissection of the situation by Tim Kazurinsky (Sweetchuck from Police Academy, writer of various shows and movies):

Here is a great one where the studio owners themselves discuss financial rewards of internet television. Their main argument against the strike is that internet content is valueless.

Finally, one of my favourites from a while ago. It doesn't have to do with the strike directly, but it's a perfect outline of the sentiment studios have towards their writers and production staff. Thanks Lewis Black, for so eloquently identifying it:

Join the virtual picket line here: Hollywood Interrupted