Fame Goes Straight To My Head (And Other Things)

A couple of semi-related things.

A. The post below this one has a comment (supposedly) from Randall Terry himself. He's the founder and head of Operation Rescue, one of the leading groups promoting the Pro-Life movement. Ding! That's the sound of my striking a teeny tiny cord, albeit a pleasant and wonderful sounding one.

B. If you have Netflix, and love people, and don't mind being horrified by the rotten things that people do, you should check out the following. I strongly recommend following up these viewings with some hot chocolate, good company and lots of laughter to remind you that not everyone is entirely evil.

1. Fall From Grace: all about Westboro Baptist Church and Pastor Fred Phelps.
2. The Last Days: the last year of World War II, as told from the perspective of Hungarian people who are Jewish, survivors.
3. Deliver Us From Evil: about one particularly horrific Catholic priest and the atrocities he committed against the youth in his parish throughout the years, including the (apparent) cover-up by the Catholic Church.
4. Lake of Fire: a comprehensive look at the debate surrounding abortion and inspiration for my previous post resulting in the comments mentioned in section A.

Fire and brimstone! And so much hatred. I am constantly astonished by the amount of anger that people have towards others simply for existing. As I was watching Fall From Grace, I tried to imagine how I would react if confronted with their hate propaganda. Part of me wants to meet them with rage and protest, but it would only be feeding them. Part of me wants to meet them with Tim's coffee and timbits, but that would literally be feeding them. Another part of me knows that doing nothing might be the best thing. These are not people who are going to change.

Blah... Screw it. I'll just punch them in the face. And their little dog too.

C. Turns out, people in rural areas of Canada, particularly Manitoba and Saskatchewan seem to really love Plenty of Fish. Unfortunately, most of them don't understand that having "common" interests means liking the SAME things. For example: one eventual-rejectee messaged me saying that it seemed that we had a lot of common interests and to message him. Something very generic. So I checked out his profile. A comparison:

HIS interests: movies, beer making, football, tv, video games, poker, wine making, ufc, pool

MY interests: none of the above. The closest it comes is my listing of "Sci-Fi/Horror Movies." My list is also 29 items long.

...

So I message him, and asked him "what things in particular" he felt we had in common. I got the following as a response... it's a gem:

"Well it seems we like a lot of the same TV shows and I agree about card and board games. I'd love to hear about your dvds I have big collection too. Also it says your in swan river."

Translation: you are geographically near to me and don't seem entirely undesirable. Also, this time I've actually looked at your profile.

I'm a harsh bitch people.

D. I need to see Black Swan like my life depends on it. So there.

Lake of Fire: An Immediate Commentary

Deep breath.

Just started watching a documentary about abortion from 2006 (thank you Netflix). Am 5 minutes in and already the following has happened:
-I wanted to throw my popcorn at the screen while Leslee Unruh was talking
-I decided NOT to throw my popcorn because it was tasty, could put oil on my TV and Leslee Unruh isn't worth my kick-ass popcorn
-I booed while a government official talked, smiling, about how the US Supreme court would probably soon have 5 pro-lifers; a majority over the 4 pro-abortionists
-I screamed "THERE'S NO SUCH THING" after he mentioned the PRO-abortionists
-I paused the movie, grabbed my laptop, and decided to blog while watching. To the best of my efforts. Lord knows I'll probably give up because I'll have too much to say and be munching away, angrily, on my popcorn.
-I feel sorry that it has taken an abortion documentary for me to blog again

So here we go, Lake of Fire by Tony Kaye, circa 2006. PS: Netflix believes I will rate this as a 3.9/5. That's pretty high stakes, Netflix...

OPENING CREDITS

Oh shiz! Noam Chomsky. And a lady who's name is followed by "(Jane Roe)." I toast a piece of Hy's-seasoned popcorn solely because I recognize the names, and unfortunately know very little about either of these people.

MOVIE STARTS

Already, I'm terrified by the religious people in this movie. I'm basically going to hell, or, ast the title describes, into a lake of fire. I'm screwed. A man with glasses explains to me that the reason Heaven is the best place to be is because Jesus is there, and some other stuff about no diseases. Makes me want to knock a eucharist or two back and say lots of prayers.

Okay. That's it, I'm done with my offensive religious commentary from here on out. Unless the movie provokes me into it again... Truth be told, I think people with great religious convictions are incredible and devoted human beings. Props.

NB: The film is entirely in black and white. Dramatic effect!

For the purpose of this commentary, I think I will refer to the opposing points of view as PL and PC. Deal?

"Not the church, not the state. Women must decide their fate!"

Why it the PL movement so intrinsically tied to religion? Christian religion? Or is it just this film? And why is it tied to abstinence and a lack of sex education? I get confused about this so often. But God's name keeps getting thrown into the abortion debate.

Oh shit... apparently women with "maternal instinct beating in their breast" should take it out of the kitchen and bring it down to the schoolboard, etc. For realsies? Out of the kitchen. I just... I can't even comment on that at all.

Apparently men are using women, exploiting them sexually, and then paying for the women to have an abortion. So... women should... be powerful? And... CHOOSE not to let men do that to them? Or, excellent, it's all men's fault. I like that explanation better. Also: Jeffrey Dahmer supported free choice. So we're ALL serial killers.

I'm so sorry, but I just can't contain my sarcasm. I should try to be critical, but I'm not a reporter. Screw it.

Stories of women who are in college, who used protection but it failed, who aren't financially stable, of partners who don't give a shit.

They're showing an abortion. Actually showing the aborted fetus. Happy that they did so. Important for people to see what it really is. Well rounded education. Somewhat disturbing maybe, but well presented, professional and not filled with fear and terror like it usually is by the PL side. Shows the doctor checking the fetal tissue to ensure they got all fragments and confirming the gestational age.

I think one of the most frustrating things to me is that I don't disagree that a fetus is a human life. I just classify it as being a potential human life. I don't think it's merely a cluster of cells, and I don't want to trivialize it by saying it's insignificant or merits no emotional attachment to it's mother. A potential life is a big deal. However, I don't think that justifies overriding the choice of the actualized human life of the pregnant woman. I certainly don't think the fetus has any MORE right to life than the woman. Still, I understand that this point of view of mine has holes and can be easily picked at by the PL perspective.

Carrying on. NOAM CHOMSKY! His message for us: our values often conflict. There are no absolutes. There's always context. Preserving life is legitimate. And choice is legitimate. I like this Swiss-ian discourse!

BACK TO THE BIBLE!

...


Just. Can't. Do. It. Especially if it means I have to listen to these people.

Guy just said that abortion is first degree murder. Thanks to my friend, I would like to ask him: should that woman go to jail for her offense? Oh... and, according to him, this is a holocaust, which, according to dictionary.com is a great destruction of life. Hmm...

HOLY MACKEREL! Okay, so, a little perspective. Prior to selecting this film on Netflix, I watched a little Oscar-nominated documentary called Deliver Us From Evil, surrounding the case of one priest convicted of child molestation. In it, one of the big baddies protecting all the pedophilic priests was Roger Mahoney, a priest/cardinal/bishop/I-don't-know-what. NOW HE'S IN THIS MOVIE TOOOOOO! I'm putting him beside Leslee Unruh in my list of people-not-worthy-of-me-throwing-my-fantastic-popcorn-at-even-though-I-really-want-to. He's everywhere.

And don't even get me started on calling it the "Abortion Industry."

We're now talking about religious preachers who justify the murder of doctors providing abortions. It frustrates me that I didn't know more about these situations until recently. That the murder of Dr. Tiller was not the first of its kind burns me. I try to see how perceiving abortion as the murder of innocents begets murdering those who are doing it. I can sort of see the rationale: murder is wrong, abortion is murder, so let's murder those fuckers providing it! I should mention, I know that this is not how all PL supporters think. This is not something that can be generalized. Everyone's perspective is unique. I get that very well.

Cue religious god-loving music while showing the most gruesome abortion footage they possibly could.

NB: the doctor's murderer was found guilty. What does this mean? It means that the jury now ALSO has the blood of all those innocent babies on their hands and will go to hell. At least, that's what a fundamentalist PLer says. Another calls the murderer a hero for protecting/defending born/unborn children. Goes on to straight up say on camera that "abortionists" should be executed, because they are murderers. Brutal.

Unfortunately, an abortion provider just made an unnecessary comment about how the middle-aged, unwed men working for the PL movement don't get laid, and thus seek and find sexual pleasure in being close to women who have had sex; they protest near the clinics and take pleasure from the women choosing abortions because they've obviously had sex. Unfortunate that she would make this kind of a comment as I feel it undermines the PC side with petty insults. Sad face.

... We're only 50 minutes in. Only 100 minutes left...

Doctors and staff wearing bullet-proof vests. They keep coming to work every day.

My heart stops. They show pictures of the scene of another murdered abortion provider. Shot outside the clinic he worked at. So I guess these are my aborted fetuses. These are my bloody, gobs of gore deterrents. Pictures of health care providers lying on the ground in puddles of blood as they entered the workplace to perform legally protected services. These would be my banners if I believed that utilizing fear and hate were effective sources of education. Unfortunately, I believe that facts speak for themselves and don't need to be highlighted with tragedy in order for people to make an educated decision about services that are lawful. So I'm trying to understand the other perspective, albeit depicted here as an extremist one, but I can't seem to find something to relate to. I don't get it.

Another video of a murder scene. And now an interview with the murderer. This murderer says that "whatever the Pope believes, I believe." And apparently, you "aren't smart" if you don't do what the Pope tells you to. This man was convicted of first degree murder, and later committed suicide in prison. Can someone remind me what the Pope's opinion of suicide is?

Fucking Operation Rescue. Another area that I can't get started on. Pardon my profanity, if you want.

Norma McCorvey. Also known as Jane Roe. Brave. Speaking about her fallout from Roe v. Wade. The harassment, the abuse, her suicidal ideation. And a smiling PLer talking about how he harassed her at a book signing. He works for Operation Rescue. They want abortion to be illegal. Okay, so, things I didn't know: she turned over and started working for Operation Rescue. Fuck. You should see how proud that annoying PL man looks. How did I not know that she changed sides? And what a story she has as she came to this realization while working at an abortion clinic. Incredible. Well, that's a strong case for the PL side. So is this proof that if you harass people enough they will eventually come over to your side? Is it some sort of Stockholm syndrome? That's not fair on my part. Each person is entitled to their own opinion. And truly, to have participated in Roe v. Wade to begin with was brave, regardless of where she stands now.

NB: Look at me learn!

Looking at the methods that women used to try to induce abortion or create the need for one. Horrifying. Don't have much to say about women causing irreparable harm and even death to themselves so that they won't have to have the baby.

Also, things that are good to know: apparently the Clintons' are telling us that our kids should have sex, use condoms, and choose their sexual orientation young. Good to know, pops! Satan's territory is in the middle of Colorado, just so you know. And the Roman Catholics built a community in the middle of that sex jungle to bring... I don't know what. Something about impeaching Clinton and something about Christians being a minority in the US. I got lost in all the raving.

There's a picture of a bus on the blackboard behind Noam Chomsky. He's talking about perhaps focusing efforts of decreasing the reasons why women have abortions, as opposed to preventing sex education and outlawing abortions. Points out that maybe it'd be worth while to focus on saving the children who are ALREADY alive from preventable diseases, famine, poverty, etc in developing countries. INNNERESTING CHOMSKY.

I really hope that was Chomsky I was just talking about. I was more focused on the school bus on the blackboard.

1.5 hours through. 1 hour left. Hoorah!

Randall Terry: You don't deserve my popcorn. It's kind of like how you don't think women deserve choice. You know, because, like popcorn, choice is tasty, and wonderful, and you like to have lots of it whenever you want it. And women shouldn't have that because they are uneducated less-than-persons who would be better served as domestics. So I say it again, you don't deserve my popcorn.

I think I want some more popcorn. Movie pause!

And we're back...

There are children at the pro-life demonstrations. Okay, I get that that makes sense. But I still thinks its ridiculous. Then again, I guess its good to involve children in demonstrations to show them that there is something they can do about their views. Hopefully they are teaching them effective ways as opposed to just spreading fear.

Goodness. Maybe it's just because I'm hearing the same things over and over, or maybe because I just don't know what to say anymore, but I'm having difficulty coming up with commentary.

Basically, there's an ongoing discussion about how the PL and PC sides construct their views. For instance, challenging the theme of right vs wrong in place of the why. Providing thoughts about at what point the line should be drawn for whether abortion is permissible or not. Less challenging remarks, and more philosophical ones.

Oh dear. So this guy talking at a conference or something by the American Life League, a Pro-Life group, just talked about how in most situations, women are pressured, bullied, misguided and forced into having an abortion, leaving them with both physical and emotional damage. So we should help them out. Step 1: Stop bullying them when they try to go to have an abortion. If these women are so battered and in need of support, yelling, screaming and barring their paths isn't going to show them how much you care. It will only terrify them more. And if the abortion isn't scary enough, then those who oppose it will be. At that point, why not just grab the coat hanger. That was crude and probably uncalled for on my part. But really...

I should also mention that they are following a woman as she goes through an abortion from arriving at the clinic, the counseling procedure, etc. Asking her about her decision. Educating her about how the procedure will go. Ensuring she has a support system ready for her post-abortion, examining her mental state and offering all the support in the world to her for anything she needs, regardless of whether or not it has anything to do with the abortion. Providing words of encouragement and support towards her decision, not necessarily towards the abortion, just towards her right to choose.

Again and again, I hear the PCers question why PLers don't provide homes and care for all the children in orphanages. Why they don't put their efforts towards nurturing and loving the children that are already in this world. Showing all around support for children, born or unborn. Having a complete and well-rounded action towards saving the lives of children. That is, of course, taking into consideration how often PLers cite the innocence of children and the absolute need to protect that.

With regards to the woman we're following through an actual abortion, we follow her into the procedure room, see the abortion. In an interview afterward, she is calm. Says she has "lots of thoughts," and feels "maybe, a bit relieved." Then she covers her face, sobbing. A staff member at the clinic comes over with a box of tissues and sits down, offering support. This woman has been pregnant before, gave up a child for adoption because she was not fit and the father was not fit to provide for it. "I know I made the right decision," she says, "but it's still not easy." The final image shows the man who brought her to the clinic, offering his shoulder and his support for her.

CREDITS/FINAL THOUGHTS

What an incredible journey. And such a broad, far-reaching look at the abortion debate. While I still feel it was primarily a pro-choice film, that may be because I don't agree with the pro-life point of view. I also don't think it is easy to present the pro-life side in a positive light when you also show the murder of abortion providers. Then again, maybe it isn't easy to show the pro-choice side in a positive light with video of the bloody remains of abortion. I'm incapable of providing an entirely objective perspective because of my personal views.

I'll give this film a 5/5 on my Netflix.

Inevitably, I want to find my way into working at an abortion clinic, supporting women, and defending choice after watching Lake of Fire.

Well, my mother said she wished I'd start blogging again. I'm not sure this is what she meant, but it'll have to do. For now at least.

Total word count: 2, 661. I never wrote a paper that long in university. Especially not in under 3 hours, or while watching a movie. Clearly I had the wrong strategy...

I can't lie to you, I forgot the card

I'm sorry.

I love you very much.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!!

PS: I actually wrote your birthday down in my dayplanner. A while ago. Because I care so much.

PPS: And this way, WAY more people can see how much I love you. As opposed to some silly card I send in the mail. It's almost like I planned it this way.... almost.

Final edit: cards will rot or be recycled, but the internet is forever XOXO

I think I need a title to make this a series....

I am concerned that this blog will turn into my ranting about the people ranting in the comments on CBC news stories.

I am also concerned that the comments section reveals a disturbing microcosm of society.

Then again, how many people:
-have internet
-read the CBC news online
-comment on the CBC news online
-are completely ignorant of humanity

Hopefully not many.

So, in Calgary last night, a cop pursued a white SUV for a distance because of some traffic infraction. The SUV kept going, eventually the cop turned off his lights and sirens and gave up chase. Later, the SUV ended up rolling and smashing into a house in a residential neighborhood, started a minor fire, and killed both people in the car.

The ever-so-brilliant canuck69 (awesome screen name), writes:

"Good.

Two less epic losers for members of the public that actually contribute something to society to worry about."

I love how blatantly obvious it is that canuck69 really, truly, deeply, PROFOUNDLY worried about these two "epic losers." Except that (s)he doesn't. Guess canuck69 isn't a contributing member of society. Let's vote her/him off the island. Because I'm a contributing member of society, and I worry for the well being of society with canuck69 in it. Besides, I know that canuck69 would do that same in my position.

From Rexmorgan:

"Now were gonna hear the parents of these idiots say stuff like "he was a good kid'....only in the N.E."

That is SO inconvenient, Rexmorgan. I HATE hearing all that sappy crap they make up about terrible people after they're dead. Why anyone has to pretend that someone cared about these assholes is ridiculous. We should write the obituary, Rexmorgan. I think it would go something like this: "Two randoms are dead. Who gives a shit. Good riddance." Perfect.

That is, of course, assuming they can afford to print obituaries in NE Calgary. I hear it's poor there. And dirty. And full of criminals, hookers and immigrants. People from the NE basically don't matter because they're less than people anyways. And goodness knows that kids from the NW, SW and SE of Calgary never roll their cars and kill themselves, because, as Rexmorgan points out, these sorts of things only ever happen in the NE.

Either that or parents in the NW, SW and SE tell the truth and spout off all the terrible things about their children when they die. Tell me fellow (and former) Calgarians: is that how it works in your quadrant?

(Note: I should probably stop with the sarcasm before I hurt myself... oh wait... there's more...)

MapleLeafRoundel:

"Happily, at least these two dead idiots didn't kill anyone ELSE with their criminally irresponsible behavior!
Once again, some spoiled brats of the "ME Generation" have learned the hard way that actions have consequences...and when a cop says "stop", that really IS the smart thing to do."

Okay. I guess I take back everything I thought I knew as taught to me by Rexmorgan. I've seen the light thanks to MapleLeafRoundel. It's not the fault of Calgary's quadrant system, it's OUR PARENTS fault. For giving us everything and making us entirely self-centered. And teaching us that the law doesn't really have to be respected. I mean, it's not like you can get into any trouble a good lawyer can't get you out of these days. Thanks for clearing that up.

But thankfully, there's light with TellTheTruth:

""Lind managed to pull the passenger out of the burning Jeep."

He risked his life trying to save the suspect.
Brave man. I am glad he is O.K.
Thank you, Mr. Lind."

Finally, a human being human. And I'm not even speaking about Officer Lind, it's nice to see some thoughtful outlook from the peanut-gallery.

And no CBC comments section is ever entirely complete without a little conspiracy-theoring:

"Actually, Gord, the vast majority of the "anti-cop" comments in this thread are coming from East of the Manitoba-Ontario border...

And you have to remember the CBC does tend to attract a lot of readers (and posters) who tend to discount the value of "Law and Order"

And of course, there is at least one censor (pardon me..."moderator") on this web site who gleefully suppresses comments from the right of the political spectrum on a regular basis..." (Emphasis mine)

As Calgary Redneck points out, everyone is out to drown the conservatives. All the time. Especially in the comments section of the Commie-run CBC website. Oooh, wait, it gets better: that's why they call it the COMMents section, and not the CONSERents section. Maybe this is also why the real Stephen Harper is hiding in a secret lair somewhere and has replaced himself and his family with robots to use in public. Just saying....

Sigh.

PS: I have actually commented on a CBC news post before. I wonder if someone out there is filling their time writing blog posts exposing my ugly nature...

Update: I love you BobZurunkel, whoever you are

This person has summed up everything I was trying to say below in 45 words:

When pride parades are no longer news worthy and simply accepted, they will no longer be needed.

The fact that so many people get so upset by a parade proves how necessary such events are.

Love is love and that is never a bad thing.

The _____ Pride Parade (or how I learned to stop hating and love everyone)

I believe in the good of people.

I trust in the better nature of humanity.

I do not understand how people can hate other people so much for simply being human.

Recently, after browsing through Facebook, the Perez, a little gander on Twitter and exhausting myself on Jezebel, Firefox and I strode over to the CBC webpage. Check on the news, see what's new and crazy in Manitoba. I do this fairly often, mostly so that I'll understand what people are talking about when they refer to such-and-such or this-and-that. These days, keeping up with the news is harder and harder; I've lived in four places in the past year and feel the need to check up on all of them. Thank goodness for the development of tabbed browsing.

On the CBC homepage for news, a particular headline caught my eye: "Original gay pride event had protest element." The article is about this weekend's Pride events in Winnipeg, Manitoba. This year's parade grand marshall is Glen Murray, the former mayor of Winnipeg. More importantly, he is the "first openly gay mayor of a major Canadian city." Good for you Glen! Unfortunate though, that his sexuality is at all important to his politics. It's pride mixed with hope mixed with sadness at our current state of affairs. How nice it will be when a person's sexuality is no longer a matter worth fighting for.

Okay, so this article: nice, short, sweet, have fun in Winnipeg!

What really drew my attention were the comments from readers. I'm posting some of them here, because there is no paraphrasing that can do justice to the hateful, terrified and unfortunate points of view of some people:

SamSquantch writes:

"So when's the Hetero Pride parade? or is that not acceptable.
Be gay, be lesbian, be all you can be, but enough of trying to shove it down everyone else's throat already.
A lot of people just don't care anymore. I'm more disgusted with some of their antics than anything else, are they trying to get people to dislike them.

As for Glen Murray...... Go back to Ontario"

(Unfortunately) Unsurprising is that this sentiment is echoed in at least 5 or 6 other comments within the first 40 or so posted.

FlyByWire just posted as I was writing this entry:

"Sure Glen Murray was the first openly gay mayor in Canada but he wasn't a great mayor. Just because a person is gay doesn't mean he or she would do a much better job than a heterosexual or visible minority..."

First two sentences: good point, being gay doesn't have anything to do with how good a person is at being a politician and managing a community. Though, I'm not entirely sure why the writer chose to mention visible minorities in this case. So yes, so far, fairly good point made by this writer. Then they decided to continue. I lost faith:

"But if you want to see a monument of Glen Murray's term in Winnipeg, look no further than the St. Boniface bridge with the phallic shaped bridge support."

Okay... so. Let me get this straight (pun intended). You don't want politics to have anything to do with a person's sexuality (awesome), but you make sexual jokes about the result of a person's politics? I'm a little confused.

Confused though I am, at least now I know the true meaning of what it means to be 'gay' thanks to ThinkB4youDo:

"Who knew the word GAY meaning: joyful, happy, go-lucky, jovial, pleasant, kind, bright, showy, ... & other positive attributes; Has been usurped by homosexuals & lesbians as their collective identification word.

It would far better & original to quoin your own ID word.

The word Gay is also persons' name or surname, you are offending these people too. The word gay already has definitions, and doesn't merit being perverse in meaning.

To all homosexuals & lesbians there is no need to, have parades, flaunt your lifestyle, push it on others, especially to children, in schools, .... in many ways from parades to government.

You are discriminating against many others.

Surely you'd be the first to aggressively protest and object to heterosexuals having parades, .... and certainly apt to be strongly against catholic teachings, conservative Jewish teachings, Muslim teachings, etc..

Please Abandon the word gay to identify your group.

Do Respect yourselves and others Keep your lifestyles to your selves." (Emphasis mine)

Flabbergasted. Is that how you spell that? I don't even know how to start. And whenever that happens, it can only mean one thing: It's time to make a list of numbered points!

1. Usurped. Offending. Perverse. Them's some strong fightin' words. ThinkB4youDo does not like the gays. At all. But at least this writer is supportive enough to want the gays to find their own word, their own identity. That's a good thing.... Right?
   
   
2. I also love how all the people with the name Gay are offended by the fact that their name has been arbitrarily designated to men men who like other men. CHANGE YOUR NAME if it bothers you so very very much. Statements like this make me want to conduct polls. On people named Gay. About their name being synonymous with a sexual classification.
   
   I wonder what all the Gays in the world would have to say.
   
   
3. You know those guys, at the booths in the centre of the hallway in the mall? They sell Dead Sea Beauty products, Coriolis hair straighteners (I love mine) and various other things none of us need. THEY push their wares on people. I honestly believe the companies that own those little booths would have a parade if they thought it meant they'd better be able to "push it on others."
   
   Has ThinkB4youDo picked up a Cosmopolitan magazine lately? Maxim? They must have not, because anyone can see that these magazines are one obvious and very powerful way of shoving, forcing, ramming and stuffing heterosexuality down our throats. Don't even get me started on the most recent issue of Cosmo (page 56 - Why So Many Men Are Suckers For Skanks; page 79 - Clues That Tell You He's Fertile). There, I can't say anymore without making this post desperately long.
   
   
4. ESPECIALLY TO CHILDREN, IN SCHOOLS!!!!
   
   Where the hell did that come from?
   
   
5. I would like to point out that at least our writer has an open mind about religion. Ish.
   
   
6. "Your group." "Your lifestyles." Lesson to be learned: gays are different from us normal, heterosexual people. They've chosen to be different, so it's okay to persecute them. They could just choose to be normal again. Also, it's good to refer to them as gays, because they're all one group, totally homogeneous (pun, again, intended). Keep it simple: they're not people, they're gays. Oh wait, sorry, normal people invented the word gay and the _____'s stole it! Make up your own damn word!
   

Okay. No more words. I think my sarcastic anger speaks for itself.

A Final Space: Ethelbert, MB

A Google search of Ethelbert, Manitoba does not yield very darn much. Though is it sad that 71,400 results doesn't count as much these days? And to be fair, I did not expect Ethelbert to real in so many results. In comparison, Swan River yields 72,600 results. So pretty much the same. Toronto, Ontario: 24,400,000. Guess I live in a small town.

Back to Ethelbert.

Wikipedia tells me that Ethelbert is 370 km northwest of Winnipeg and 60 km north of Dauphin. It certainly didn't feel like I was driving north when I stopped off there after being in Dauphin, but the sky can be so tricky when it's cloudy out. Either way, point is: Ethelbert has this bizarre little cemetery.

Before I go any further, it might be worth while to explain that my grandmother passed on her love of cemeteries (particularly old ones) to me, and probably to my mother as well. I distinctly remember going to little prairie cemeteries with her when I was little, reading over the names, wondering what happened in certain years that so many people died, and piecing together the family connections through maiden names. Maybe not your average bonding experience, but important and wonderful all the same.


So I'm driving back from a unforeseen trip to Dauphin, relishing the fact that I now know there are multitudes of tiny cemeteries on the way for me to explore, and I decide that Ethelbert shall be my first victim. It is probably the largest cemetery between Swan River and Dauphin, split into two distinct parts by a road leading into town. The larger side of the cemetery belongs to the Ukrainian Orthodox parish, and the smaller to the Ukrainian Catholics. It is very apparent that the Ukrainian Catholic side is newer. The headstones are modern. Though I didn't look at each of them, I would hazard a guess that none is older than the 1970s or 80s. The Ukrainian Orthodox side is a different matter. Probably almost four times the size of it's Catholic counterpart, this side boasts headstones from 1919 (of the headstones I was able to read), bronze crosses, a variety of headstones, very little English lettering and plenty of large stone seals atop the graves.

I believe there's always something to be found in graveyards. My mother has always told me the best places to find baby names are in graveyards and movie credits. I enjoy the stories though, and wondering why certain people died when they did. Particularly children. This may sound morbid, or lead some to believe that I'm less than well-adjusted. Still, the death of a child must have had a profound effect on their family and their community. I'm always curious to know why they died, and if it is something that is preventable now. It seems like childrens' headstones are polarized as well. On one hand, there are anonymous markings, a lamb carved from stone and the words Baby So-and-So beneath, perhaps the year or the age of the child. Others are monuments, with loving words, pictures, flowers, toys and memories strewn about the grave, no matter how long ago it was. Adults so often have the typical name, dates of birth and death, some nice comment on their heritage to their family (mother, daughter, grandmother) and scripture or a personal saying (Rest In Peace, "Oh balls"). But children don't seem to uphold those stereotypical tributes. Perhaps its because people are so overcome with shock and sadness, or the child is so young that there is nothing more to say than it died. Though, again, it must be that sad sadness that drives people to create beautiful, colourful shrines to the child.

This is why I love the graves of babies. They leave me thinking.


Who was Dennis Syrnyk? Did he have any siblings? If he did, did they have their own personalized rhymes spoken to them before they fell asleep at night? And if he was an only child, did his parents blood line die with him?

Dennis, why didn't you make it past 6 years old?

The rest of the graveyard experience wasn't particularly different than others I've seen in the past. Plain and eleborate headstones, bronze crosses, and loads of Ukrainian that I don't understand. Still, a very enjoyable stop. If I'd had more time, perhaps I'd have more observations. Anyways, here is the rest of my photographic documentation, or at least those pieces I liked best.

Please enjoy.

Maybe if CBC wrote articles like childrens' picture books...

It's Friday.

Sleep day. Laundry day. Plan-mini-trip-to-Saskatoon day.

Bum around the internet and find things worthy of blogging about day. Entirely accidentally of course.

Things you should know about me first: I browse using tabs. Meaning that I'm usually following two or more "threads" of the internet at any given time. For instance, upon discovering what I'm coming up to mentioning, I was also simultaneously playing the new point-and-click game from Minoto. Heck, right now I have four tabs open: Twitter, the thing I'm going to tell you about, the place I'm writing this blog, and the tab I just used to find a link to Minoto games. If this were third year of nursing school, I would probably diagnose myself with post-partum depression based on my inability to focus on/finish one task.

Anyways, point being, while cruising Twitter, I came across an article that Perez Hilton had posted about the Nashville Flood. "The Nashville-what?" you may ask. Well, as it turns out, there was this HUGE flood in Nashville last week. The river rose over 13 feet, dykes broke, 30 people are dead (mostly from flash flooding), the Grand Ole Opry is flooded out and loads of people are currently homeless. Pretty crazy, if you ask me. Reminds me of Katrina a lot. Thing is though: there's not a lot of news about it.

I actually can't remember where I first heard about there being a flood, though I have a strong suspicion it was on Twitter via Perez Hilton, etc. I DO remember that it was Perez who posted a link to a swack-load of photos taken from inside the Opryland Hotel post-flooding. There was water up to the doors! Covering the doors! It was like looking into the Titanic, minus the sinking, and everyone was already evacuated and safely some other place. Crazy stuff!


There is supposed to be a hallway there. And an emergency exit! Terrifying!

Okay, anyways, point is: without Perez Hilton, it would have taken me a while to find out about this. It hasn't really been in the news, and even on CBC.ca, there is scant information (oooh! Scant... using an nursing word for real world things!). I'm really disappointed. This seems like a pretty big natural disaster issue here.

But then again, I guess this isn't happening....



And neither is this:


I'll concede that the Gulf Oil spill is a crisis for the environment, and therefore the planet as a whole. But the bomb scare? Monger your fear! (I'm totally going to recant these statements later, I can just feel it coming on...)

A mighty big flood washes away homes, infrastructure, history and landmarks, yet doesn't get airtime equal to that of a near-miss and another natural disaster. I don't get it.

The point of all these pictures, is to direct you to "Why The Media Ignored The Nashville Flood". an article for Newsweek by Andrew Romano. Click here to find it. Mr. Romano speculates that the reason the Nashville flood didn't get as much news coverage is because:

1. It wasn't a politically charged story. No scandals, no name calling, no terrorists.

2. It didn't have enough follow up potential. It wasn't a developing story, it was over.

3. The other news outlets weren't reporting on it. Peer pressure: dumbing you down since elementary school.

I liked this article. It's short, it's sweet, and it makes me feel like I should be reading The Guardian way more often. Same with Feministing. What else in the world am I missing out on? I already know there are innumerable other causes never being reported on. Obviously I can't know them all. In this small town, I'm torn between choosing blindness or attempting to remain educated in current events.

Then again, why bother with them with I am clearly getting well-rounded news in multiple media formats via this guy:


Awesome.

"I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that."

I'm sitting on one third of a three piece mini-sectional while I type this.

That's why there aren't pictures of my apartment yet.

Because it's not finished.

It isn't weird to name inanimate objects, right? I mean, I'm not talking about EVERY inanimate object here. Frankly, it'd be odd to name all my pencils, pens, DVD cases, pillows and the different velcro ties that tidy up my power cables. It would get confusing. I would call them by the wrong name and the relationship we had would be over. My cables would remain tangled and disorganized, my DVD cases would revolt by scratching the DVDs inside them and my pillows... well... it'd be hell.

So I don't just name ANY inanimate object. I name the ones that are useful to me. The ones that matter. Granted, if I'm classifying them as more important than other objects, does that not offend just as much (if not more) than not remembering the name I gave it? CONFUSION!

Alas, here the the facts:
-if you're inanimate, I feel like I have the right to name you
-if you're important to me and serve significant function, chances are I will name you
-chances also are that the name won't be particularly flattering
-I choose names based on a first-come-first-serve basis, which interesting results

This started a long time ago, though I can't remember with what object. Probably the most specific incident I can remember is driving in my parent's Echo with my friend Carol and discussing naming the car. For fun. For personality. Somehow, the name Carol suggested stuck.

Tourettes.

Tourrie for short.

What. The. Hell.

The car had been named after a bizarre psyhiatric disorder. Not only would my car now be ridiculed for having tiny tires, but it also had a potentially politically incorrect name. Not it's fault, but still.

Either way, naming-madness ensued. I have since named my current vehicle with the pattern of mental illness in mind. Sybil is my Cobalt. Sybil is also the fictitious name for a real life case of disociative personality disorder as made popular by a movie of the same name. Popular isn't the right word, but it felt right to write it that way. Especially at 1:15 am.

Sybil. Tourrettes. And so many more:

-Dolores: a purse I long-term borrowed from Heritage Park and used in my day to day life throughout grade... 11 I guess it would be. I once boasted at the amount of random and bizarre things I kept inside Dolores and did, one day, manage to produce a stapler from within her. Sadly, she had to be returned for me not to get charged money off my paycheck. I miss you Dolores.

-Lavar: my bike. I'm sorry that I named you Lavar but it was the first thing that popped into my head when I first got you. It stuck. It was either that or Lamar. I liked the v better. You're a great blue beauty and you've served me well. I like to imagine you'd could read my books under a rainbow and defend me from aliens while being best friends with a robot. You're a bike of many trades, Lavar.

-Philumena: okay, technically, Philumena isn't inanimate. He's a plant. A gender-confused Philodendron. I refer to him as a he in passing, but have clearly named him Philumena (which, in general, is considered feminine). I have no explanation for this. But Philumena is well adjusted and growing beautifully. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen a dead leaf on him.

-Marcus: my very recently acquired Nintendo Wii. Marcus. Again, it was the first thing that came to mind. The interesting part is that in naming Marcus, my old Super Nintendo ended up being names Leon. The two names just seemed to fit and it worked. It's already stuck. I officialized Marcus upon setting him up. It's in his system now and everything. No going back.

Maybe I'm creative. Maybe I'm just lonely and need cats. Lots of cats. Either way, at least I'm surrounding by things with personality.

Maybe I like to play God, a creator.

Or something. I don't know.

PS: I'm sorry I forgot about Pippin, Barry, Lacie and Bernard. You're all wonderful pieces of hardware as well!

A Physical Description

Have spent the past few weeks working and getting my apartment together. Tomorrow I'll get a couch, which will (hopefully) spur me into taking pictures to post here. You can just imagine all the pictures/art on the walls. It's good to stretch your mind every now and then. You will not, however, have to imagine all the books and DVDs I have. Arranged alphabetically, or partial-autobiographically. Maybe you'll want to wonder why I chose to do things the way I did, but I predict you'll mostly just be happy to have something to look at.

There are gerberas in the vase. Enya on the stereo. Crap all over the floor, and pieces of nostalgia everywhere. What an old cliche, but moving is a history lesson in your own life. The Magnolia DVD I sort of stole from an ex-roommate. The Caviar CD my aunt for me as a Christmas present from the Sam The Record Man store that used to be on Yonge in Toronto, my first trip to Toronto. The can of Swift Premium Cooked Ham I won for participating in late night improv at the Plaza Theatre in Kensignton (I think I was there with the ex-roommate whose DVD I stole). Posters from first year rez that hung on my walls and are now in frames. The ugly fake-porcelain angel I can't bring myself to part with because it was a gift from retired priests, my first real nursing experience. A hand-carved Love Spoon brought back from Scotland by someone I used to love.

So now, the more I think of it, I guess my whole place actually is arranged autobiographically. Especially considering the things I've purposefully (and accidentally) thrown away over the years that might have had meaning. Or that had too much meaning.

I like to pride myself on not having clutter. This apartment is thus become me in a concentrated form.

So while it's not an original thought, I speculate at the reaction I have when I walk into other poeples' places. What does their apartment say about them? What will people think who see my apartment for the first time? What will you think when I (eventually) post pictures of it?

And this all reminds me so much of residence at the University of Alberta. In residence, your room is the only space upon which you can vomit yourself onto the walls. I'll concede that it may not be the only place, but it's certainly the easiest. Generally, people got annoyed when you'd leave your things lying around in places outside your room. So I think back, and remember how beyond obvious this observation was. Seeing someone's room told you a lot, especially when you were meeting new people. I remember meeting a friend for the first time while her dad and her fixed up a set of Ikea shelves in her room. Attempting so furiously to guerilla-clean another friend's bathroom that the ordeal ended in an argument. Wanting to wrap myself in a boy's bed because the smell was so comforting to me, and being able to walk that room with my eyes closed I knew it so well. No matter which year he lived in it.

I've misplaced the remote and the FM antenna for my stereo. Some CD cases have nothing in them. I haven't figured out where to put the odd things, like the lab coat and the purple 1988 Olympic flag. There's a picture frame lying face down on the floor, filled with pictures of friends I don't talk to anymore and memories I'm coming to terms with. A hand-carved Scottish Love Spoon beside me that I cannot part with but conflicts me all the same.

I've finally found a space. In the middle of Canada, surrounded by sky.

Sigh. Sentimental blogging = must be a Monday night.

Milkshakes In Bed With SJP

Just caught two adults making out in the elevator at my hotel.

Win.

Like a good Canadian, I offered to take a different elevator.

Like embarassed people, they tried to pretend they couldn't figure out how to work the key card to access their floor. Riiiiiigggghhhhhhtttt.

They were making out. Good for them. I'm smiling about it this very moment.

About the hotel: I'm in Saskatoon for the night. Have two days off and spur of the moment decided to go to Yorkton. Sure, Yorkton is not Saskatoon, but the first turned into the second when the first didn't have much to offer in the way of over-the-door hangars, Wiis and scrub shops. The second has provided much success in the way of amusement and functionality. I've got my over-the-door hangars, and I'm on the path to finding a scrub shop and I think I've talked myself out of buying a Wii. For now.

Swan River has been wonderful, though without internet at home yet. Work has been incredibly supportive. I, like every new nursing graduate (I presume), am struggling to build my confidence in my practice. I'm finding it hard to break away from asking questions, deferring to authority and doubting myself. I feel like a punk-ass nurse. More and more, I'm trying to go home at the end of the day, look stuff up in my MedSurg text (and mourn over having somehow not brought my Potter & Perry) and chill out about the day. I don't know everything. I almost certainly never will. But I'll un-cheesily be the best I can be.

Enough of that though, I'm on days off. Woot!

Have great apartment by the way. Cozy little two bedroom near the Tim Horton's (PRIME location in my opinion) that costs me less than half of what a similar place in Calgary might cost. Certainly less than half of what it would be in Toronto. But that's part of what I moved to Swan River for. Part of the overall picture. Low living expenses. I'm also telling you all this to shove it in your faces. Then again, you'll just counter me with stories of multi-screen movie theatres, the ballet, people everywhere, and sushi. Don't forget Starbucks. Or rather, easy access to all aforementioned privileges.

...

Whatever City-People. I'm in the country now, and it suits me well. I don't need to show you how awesome it is, cause I'm LIVIN' it!

I don't know why livin' is capitalized. Or missing a g.

Either way, this fresh-nurse is going to enjoy her night in Saskatoon, the ability to hang her towel up after a shower, and (hopefully) revel in the delight of new scrubs.

Till I have internet or steal it...

Pull it!

Arrive.

Except its differently exciting than getting off a plane, wandering through an airport, managing to tote all your luggage and then being delivered through a pair of sliding doors into the arms or family. Or at least someone who knows you.

It's more like knowing that you'd be jumping out of a plane, but not knowing when. The stewardess comes up to your seat, softly puts a hand on the back of your chair, and smiles not-quite-politely. She asks if you'd please join her at the front of the cabin. And bring your bags. You're fairly certain that you're ready for this but harbour doubts that your four week long sky-diving course has sufficiently prepared you. You join her in front of all the first class flyers, behind the cockpit.

And she pushes you. Out. Of. The. Plane.

You're not even sure if you have a parachute or not.

It's somewhere in all these bags of yours.

If only you could find it.

That's what arriving in Swan River and starting to work feels like. So far.

I've been here for about 24 hours. I've signed forms for 3 hours. I am on the floor in 16 hours.

Where the hell is my parachute?


My dad and I left Calgary Saturday morning, drove to Regina and stayed there overnight. Saw Shutter Island (amazing!) in a nice little theatre with little admission prices too. Great times. Finished the rest of the trip on Sunday. Spent most of yesterday in Swan River either parked in the hotel room, or mulling over things. Checked out a really nice, bright little apartment near the Tim Horton's (important). Have a feeling that that is where I'll end up.

Today, took myself to the hospital at 8am and started signing forms. So many signatures. I know my SIN by heart now. Same with my new employee number. Benefits, insurance, blah blah blah. Going to see a house for rent this afternoon. Desperately hope it's super amazing.

In more interesting news, the Co-op is big and beautiful. Sears is having a sale on beds. Woot!

Sundi, you were right. Life hits you hard and fast, with no mercy. Am so used to things being gradual.

Have you seen my parachute?