It’s Like A Natural Disaster That Nobody Is Noticing

Saturday morning after I told my wife what to wear I said “do the dishes and vacuum quietly then I’m taking you to Toronto for a romantic getaway.” She wasn’t very quiet with vacuum but I let her walk behind me for the day anyway.

We found our seats on the train next to a nice young couple with two children who had a volume problem. I felt bad for them because they couldn’t afford sedatives for their children. I asked the woman pushing the food cart if she had any cough syrup I could donate to them but the answer was no. The conductor told me I had to remain seated until the train came to a complete stop so I walked backwards while we glided into Union Station and exited from the last car.

We walked in the rain to the aquarium and I was thankful to have an umbrella. I was still annoyed by the young couple and their spawn mainly because they were 15 feet in front of me heading towards the aquarium. In a loud voice I turned back towards my wife who forgot her umbrella, “Hey, isn’t that the CN Tower?” “Isn’t that the Rogers Centre?” “Isn’t that a bus with bad brakes?” The family didn’t go for the bait so I stopped for a cigarette to give them a head start. Again, I was thankful to have an umbrella. My wife seemed pleased to be in the building because she was soaked but when I realized the screeching wasn’t whales but 387 children I was a little hesitant. I stuffed the umbrella into the backpack my wife was carrying and took a gulp from one of the water bottles I noticed there.

I haven’t been anywhere in a couple of years so I was shocked at how the world has changed. I had no idea people are now using cameras for eyes. The last time I was out in public people experienced things in real time but I guess it’s more fulfilling to go home and look at what you missed while you were capturing it with a cell phone. It only happened 5 times but apparently if your face isn’t pressed to the aquarium glass it’s okay to step right in front of a person and hold out your phone so neither of you has a view. Even walking around was confusing for me. It seemed like every 15 seconds or 7.5 feet a Hollywood movie set appears out of nowhere and you have to freeze or take an alternate route while people pose for pictures. It’s like a natural disaster that nobody is noticing.

The aquarium itself was pretty cool if you like looking at shark anus gliding over your head in a glass tunnel but I was bored to tears by the Horseshoe Crabs. We should just make them extinct. It’s okay I just spent those moments doing math problems and thinking about scientific stuff like what makes the most noise:

A. 387 children who think seeing a fish is as exciting as hooking one in the mouth and dragging it through the water to watch it suffocate in the bottom of a boat    OR

B. 387 children temporarily floating in a million gallon fish tank with their shoes on  OR

C. 387 children kinda splashing in a million gallon fish tank with 18 sharks and no shoes

Whoever said watching fish in an aquarium is relaxing wasn’t being stepped on by screaming children and getting poked in the shoulder by some parental prick with a selfie stick.

None of the nose-pickers looked smart enough to trick but if I asked their parents 93% of them would be gifted, exceptional and ahead of their peers. I’m not sure how you discourage kids with their fake fascination of marine life but I know how you can keep most of the adults out of the place. Tell them no cell phones allowed. I mean, who the hell would show up to look at a sea urchin with just their eyes?

We narrowly missed the protestors telling people looking at fish who eat smaller fish not to eat fish and headed to the Royal Ontario Museum.

I thought the museum was going to be a peaceful perusal of the past but the idiots who thought it was a good idea for their offspring to see what that deep fried white flaky stuff looks like when it’s alive thought the little loudmouths should see paintings and pottery. What kind of a moron takes a child to a museum? I was somewhat buoyed by the fact that their eager “aren’t children wonderful” look had shifted to a “someone shoot me” grimace but they were all still wagging their tongues instead of choking on them so it wasn’t a truly fulfilling moment.

I pretended to be interested in the Chinese clay pots and crap because I like to pretend I love my Chinese wife because it leads to sex once in a while. Eventually I ran out of patience. “Honey, we have the exact same dish at home and that one is 29 bucks at Pier One. Even in these paintings and statues you all look the same.” The uptight Korean woman standing next to me seemed offended but at least I wasn’t wandering around with my hands clasped behind my back pretending to give a shit about culture. It’s not my problem she was too stupid to realize there were dinosaur bones in the building.

Coming out of the Chinese Culture Corner I held the door for 3 middle eastern adults because I like to pretend I care about people once in a while. They didn’t even look at me or say thanks. Not even a nod of the head. It only took about 20 seconds off my life but I was afraid to tell them to “fuck off” in case they were Muslim because I heard that kind of thing is basically illegal in Canada now. I certainly don’t want to be called Islamophobic because I’m not even racist. I hate everybody. I don’t understand hating someone for their skin colour or religion when you can hate them for no reason at all.

I went out a side door for a cigarette and they wouldn’t let me back in the museum so I missed out on seeing all the stuffed birds and mammals but most of them won’t be extinct for a few months so I’ll just put some diesel in my truck and hopefully I can run over a few so I don’t have to see them behind glass.

While we were waiting for the train back to London I had to use the queer, non binary trans person room. I went into the stall and the first thing I noticed was someone had carefully laid toilet paper all over the seat because like the internet says you can get an ass cheek infection if you don’t. I was disappointed that I had just missed meeting the Prime Minister but I was pleased he was travelling like the rest of us. I’m not saying he stinks but I’m not sure he’s as healthy as he looks. Despite what people say he is a visionary, I mean how did he know I was going to piss all over the seat? Why was I peeing in a stall? Because some liberal turds decided I can’t smoke in the main areas any more.

It was a nice trip back on the train until I smelled vomit coming from the woman having a coughing fit two seats back. It was awful. I didn’t turn to look at her as I sprinted off the train because I figured she was embarrassed and I don’t like seeing vagina on other peoples chins.

If you’re not offended by this blog please forward it to someone who might be.

Take care because I don’t.

Is It A Wonder Our Youth Fabricate Catastrophe When Their Ass. University Professor Shows Them How?

Twitter is becoming a Wailing Wall. We post our pain which in the scheme of things is simply pathetic.

Emmett Macfarlane an Ass. University Professor in Waterloo was quite incensed that journalists called his home at “fucking 7:15 a.m.” for an interview. I too would probably angrily Tweet to the world if someone woke me up at 7:15 a.m. when my alarm was set for 7:30 a.m. but I like to think I would find some perspective between relieving my morning pee boner and filling the coffee pot.

I don’t need as much sleep as an Ass. University professor but isn’t that why they have doors on their offices? I guess I’m unedimigated enough to imagine a dairy farmer who gets up at 4:00 a.m. even during Reading Week and Summer Break. I’m so stupid I can even imagine someone with a medical condition that prevents them from the 6.5 hours of sleep a tenured professor is entitled to.

Is it a wonder our youth fabricate catastrophe when their Ass. Professor shows them how?

When I saw the cruel and unusual treatment Emmett Macfarlane was receiving from the media I reached out with sympathy and support and Tweeted my condolences.

“Put your thumb back in your mouth and go back to bed. Some people have real problems.” @brett_batten

I must have used incorrect punctuation, spelling or I cited my sources wrong because he blocked me from seeing his Tweets and from Tweeting to him which seems odd considering his interview and Tweets were about academic freedom which in my unedimigated world seems like freedom of speech. I guess I will have to sign up for one of his courses so he can impart his logic on me. Jesus wept…because He was laughing His Ass off.

Another lady Tweeted for a week about her luggage being lost on an Air France flight. I didn’t Tweet to her because I wasn’t sure if she was actually upset here in Ontario or if she simply wanted to keep reminding me that she had been to Paris recently. I’m not jealous, I’ve seen pictures and I don’t drink whine.

I have lost a few things in my life a few times so I can empathize. I lost my home, job, money, health, family, freedom and foreskin twice. Well, not the foreskin but I haven’t exactly given it a chance to grow back. Sorry God.

I guess it’s okay to broadcast that you lost your shirt somewhere over the Atlantic but it is my belief that it is more helpful to keep in mind that you didn’t exactly “lose your shirt”, you’re more precisely losing your shit. Losing your luggage or a phone call at the unGodly hour of 7:15 a.m. is a problem. It’s a problem of perspective which apparently isn’t always part of a university syllabus.

What would Twitter be like for people in an African village?

“Four hyenas ate our last two chickens and pissed on my brand new lawn gnome.”

“Not sure what my children will do for food today but hopefully they find something edible on the 3 mile walk for water”

“Does anyone know how that poor professor is doing with his sleep deprivation? All I heard was machine gun fire last night but I slept like a log. No wait, I have a log for a pillow. My bad.”

“Does anyone know where I can make a donation for that lady from the Air France flight so she can replace her blouse? We need a plane full of Red Cross supplies but I can’t sleep thinking about her.”

Twitter isn’t all bad. I do get a kick out of knowing someone I don’t know is at a meeting I don’t give a shit about with a politician nobody likes, but then again I don’t. Why don’t I just stay off Twitter? Because watching people twisting in agony while they are having a near orgasmic experience fascinates me.

If you think this has nothing to do with you read this Tweet from Topless in Tanzania.

“Can someone message me about what works best to remove hyena urine from a gnome’s beard? I tried Lysol, CLR, mouthwash, vinegar, sea salt, car polish, dandruff shampoo, turpentine, lavender scented dish soap, furniture wax, PAM, WD-40, SOS pads, 3M pads, Bounce, lemon infused organic olive oil, hand sanitizer, hairspray, shoe polish and I wrestled with a starving stray dog that had an extra absorbent paper towel stuck to it’s half missing tail. Seriously. I’m getting desperate. I’ve tried everything I can find in the cupboards of the kitchen area in my hut with the hole in the roof we call a skylight and everything in the granite topped cupboard in the ensuite. I even waded through all the crap in the two car garage. I shouldn’t whine. I tidied up during this difficult time. You could almost park a car in the garage once I buy one of those contraptions I can suspend the kids 24 speed bikes from. There’s enough room in the hut for that massage chair I ordered. If only I could get the kids to put away their Lego, Star Wars action figures and gather up the Sony Playstation games.”

If you’re not offended by my blog please forward it to someone who might be, like maybe Emmett Macfarlane @EmmMacfarlane. He hasn’t been sleeping well so don’t pass it on to him at like 7:15 a.m.. He might lose his shit again.

Take care because I don’t!

 

I guess we know what Justin Trudeau meant when he said “sunny ways.”

I guess we know what Justin Trudeau  meant when he said “sunny ways.” For Justin it is actual sunning time with a billionaire on his island in the Bahamas. For the 99% its a bit of a colder version. It’s possibly somewhat easier to be a “sunny ways” visionary from behind sunglasses. I’ll be on board as soon as I scrape my windshield.

We probably don’t have to scratch our heads long to figure out the ethics of smoozing with a billionaire who receives Canadian taxpayer dollars. Whoops. Even if all that is fair we need to look at our own gut ethics. What is a post Christmas vacation? Maybe the Liberals mean that it was like the day after Boxing Day that the clerk from 7/11 gets for Christmas vacation after working the real one?

I reckon that leads to another question. If it is important for someone to sell cigarettes and gas shouldn’t it be important to have someone at the rudder of the nation? The rudder of the nation in the dead of winter is not to be found on a dinghy in the Bahamas. One might question his  effectiveness as a leader with sunscreen on his nipples somewhere off continent.

If not out of good taste then out of respect I find it tasteless for Justin and his nanny to be on a beach while someone in Alberta is up at five in the morning coaxing along a truck heater.There were Canadian’s who suffered through the holidays. There were military personnel long flights from home. If you wanted to catch planes and fly on helicopters you should have relieved someone who was doing it out of duty.

I don’t think Justin is heartless. I just think he’s clueless. His life experiences have been mostly play and his perceptions of reality are so far removed from ordinary Canadians that it is an impediment to his governance of them. He can make us all feel warm and friendly and polite. He can put a pretty face on what makes Canada great but what makes Canada great is not he and Sophie on safari but average Canadians.

Step up or step down.

Yesterday I saw a schizophrenic man shot by a police issued firearm. I was in the same room…

 

Yesterday I saw a schizophrenic man shot by a police issued firearm.  I was in the same room standing in the dining area. It was a one room apartment with two smaller rooms to the side. I wasn’t sure what was going on. As far as I could tell the man was talking to himself with the door slightly ajar. I could see him moving about and I heard words clearly but not completely or with the advantage of knowing their concept.

The man’s mother was at the door speaking to the police. The man opened the door to his bedroom and asked his mom about lunch. He said something about being hungry and asked for the time of day then went back into his room. My next memory is of him standing in his bedroom doorway and his mom telling him they had visitors as the officers stepped into the room.

I noticed his mother walk to the side of the upholstered chair. The next thing I saw was the man pulling a knife into the air and with arm raised he came at his mother. His last words were something about wanting to eat. I heard the shot echo quickly into the room. I felt bad for the man’s mom. She only wanted to help her son. She was the one who called the police.

What would you do? I’m not sure what I would have done differently. I am told most police in England do not carry guns. How would it have turned out if there was no gun at the scene? Maybe it wouldn’t have been a lethal encounter. Maybe stitches would have been the worst of it. Maybe only the man with the knife survives and knocks on your front door.

I am still in shock but I thought things in the apartment would have ended differently the way the same officers handled someone similar who was beating a rather nice full size black SUV. The officers were able to talk to that man. They were able to determine from him that his delusion was with a vehicle and not a human. After some cautious and courteous interaction on the part of the police the man was safely convinced to put the aluminum bat down.

I too co-operated with the officers when I was directed to leave the parking area. The aluminum bat landed on the SUV during some of this interaction but the officers were trained in the safety of space and appropriate action in the event its dimensions shift toward danger. It seemed a little fun seeing a guy beating a vehicle with a baseball bat but when the officers arrived at the scene I saw it as a different scenario.

Police are called to protect those directly involved in the interaction, the public and themselves. In this circumstance we could add the protection of property. I don’t know about most people but when the poop hits the fan I have a hard enough time figuring out what is appropriate for the preservation of self. When an officer reacts in circumstances we can view in reverse and memorize we need to keep in mind that we are sitting in a chair without the officer’s training, adrenaline level, or the information they may have to react to in seconds.

It is a thin blue line that volunteers to walk into any situation and possibly defend against danger. We watch the video of some questionable interaction but what may be obvious to us may be otherwise in real life. Watching it on a screen we are also void of a need to protect the lives of those involved, bystanders, fellow officers or self in a fluid situation. I’m not saying every death is without liability all I’m saying is to give pause to possibilities most of us can be thankful to avoid.

I thought about what I saw the whole way home from the Ontario Provincial Police General Headquarters in Orillia, Ontario. The OPP used to handcuff me and put me in the backseat of their cars but now I get a comfortable chair and a sandwich better than I can make. I’m locked in hallways within a locked building but it seems like progress.  I am a member of the Ontario Provincial Police Community Mental Health Advisory Committee.

The gentleman I saw get shot was an Ontario Provincial Police instructor. He seemed fine afterwards and I shook his hand. He could act half as crazy as I am. The two uniformed officers in the scenarios were female officers. If you encounter a female officer outside of a scenario please know they are every bit of police that make up the rest.

I have met more police officers than most people. Even when the circumstances were unpleasant there was not one among them that I imagined coming to work hoping to shoot a person. When officers have the luxury they too hope every situation ends safely.

If you want to judge police I suggest you take a look at the Ontario Provincial Police Mental Health Strategy. This organization has our backs and they are proactively and progressively improving mental health outcomes for all.

 

 

 

Someone needs to remind Toronto Mayor John Tory that municipal politicians are elected on a non-partisan basis.

 

It sounds like the Wild West to the east of me. According to Toronto Mayor John Tory the reefer is becoming rampant. It sounds like people are putting up lemonade stands next to schools and dealing in marijuana. Conservatives would have us believe kids will be accessing marijuana with some increase in ease from today’s unregulated standards. Their ideal is having drug dealers decide who buys and throw in a bunch of expensive law enforcement. As far as controls and safety measures I envision something similar to how alcohol and tobacco are regulated.

Mayor John Tory seems to believe marijuana should be kept from near schools and community centres. For decades past, marijuana has been anywhere it pleases. It has existed hidden in plain neighbourhoods. It has gone from pocket to pocket almost everywhere. Why do we need to fear it now that it is open and nearing more?

Where I live there is a large industrial brewery with a beer retail store attached that is on the opposite corner of a Boys and Girls Club. When I grew up the community centre served alcohol most weekends for weddings and such. I can walk past a playground with a case of beer but for some reason dangerous people use marijuana. Why exactly does Mayor John Tory think that individuals who are or soon will be part of new or existing laws and their anchor in freedoms and rights need to be kept away from schools and community centres? There used to be a variety store in my neighbourhood that was directly across the street from a public elementary school. I used to buy my cigarettes there. Imagine the calamity if I was buying a package of marijuana cookies. Boo! Are you shaking with irrational fear?

Mayor John Tory writes “the city has a responsibility to ensure this emerging industry operates responsibly, without a negative impact on the health and safety of our residents and neighbourhoods.” You could put a marijuana dispensary on every corner of Toronto and it would be safer than letting criminals be the leaders of the present industry. Are guns involved with these dispensaries? They are when we treat marijuana as an illegal substance. We tried leaving it all to criminals, cops and courts. It was dangerous, expensive and socially scarring for many and all of us.

Someone needs to remind Mayor John Tory that municipal politicians are elected on a non-partisan basis. It is an insult to every Canadian who has or will be involved in the industry or consumption of marijuana. Mayor John Tory is stigmatizing hundreds of thousands of Canadians. To insinuate that any or all of these individuals are something to protect the community from is laughable at best. They are part of community’s. Should we banish Prime Minister Trudeau from schools and community centres? He’s a druggy isn’t he? “I don’t want my child associating with someone who has consumed marijuana…I don’t care if Justin just wants a selfie.”

Any community will be safer when marijuana is legal. The stigma surrounding it hopefully will lift as it did for alcohol prohibitions of the past. There are those who would have marijuana remain illegal for reasons of addiction, health emergencies, impaired driving, underage use or more. We have these scenarios with alcohol but any city resident could find it within 15 minutes of any intersection.

I think Mayor John Tory is simply posturing politically. Marijuana ignorance is a by-product of his conservative roots. I think the mayor should apologize to Canadians for stigmatizing Canadians.

We would be jailed for brushing our own paint on a work of Michelangelo. Is God that much less?

My issue with transgendered individuals is not who they are but that their ideas and inclinations should supersede and All-knowing and All-powerful God. Outside of some physical emergency I do not believe it is up to humans to alter their physical sexual characteristics. Gender is in part a social construct. As such it changes. If your idea of throwing a dart at gender is to distort nature the new creation may fall from the board as the world changes.

Just as the baptized baby may wander from the flavour of their Faith why not a gender identity? Is mine a permanent state or are there other possibilities? I consider myself a man but then again I have never worn panties. What if panties suddenly seem permanent? How many years into my sexuality and gender identify do we consider a point of no return?

What if there comes a day when any and all variances are accepted? If you and the people you interact with change their perceptions and permissions you may have stirred the bread before it had a chance to rise. What if a person changes further or later or intermittently? No matter what the world thinks or you think, we are all trapped in some sort of visible existence. Has anyone considered a reverse re-assignment or is the transgendered community content and permanently so?

You’re sure God made a mistake but what of you? What are the eternal odds of not being quite sure what you are? Cut, snip and more across the corpse that was created for a purpose. I get a kick out of a transgendered person saying: “Now I’m me.” I’m nearing 50 and I’m still not sure who or what I am. If anyone says “he was” at my funeral it will be followed by an “also”. If my identity shifts throughout my lifetime is it not possible that any part of it may be a different thing from birth to death?

What is wrong with the painting we are given? You can spend your life reworking a Master or you can dance down the street showing off the original. We would be jailed for brushing our own paint on a work of Michelangelo. Is God that much less?

Personal obsessions aside, embrace what you are. If something stirs in you that would betray some characteristics and offend some social stereotype, find thee who cares not. Do not carve away your flesh to fill a twisting and turning vessel. Grasp it and learn to calm its contents. Find your personal equilibrium for what appears and what is. It is your cross to bear. Each of us is many things we would rather not be.

“Chick with a dick”

If there are some things I can’t say I end up not saying what I want but what others want. I’m a simple man but in my opinion being able to say what you want is the right from which the others rise. If you can’t write what you think on the picket you carry it kind of moots the right to strike. “I need a seven percent raise but I don’t mind a muzzle.”

There are an ever increasing number of omissions of language used in public. I doubt there is one person who would know of each and every word or grouping thereof that would offend some individual or group. Eventually those with PTSD will prickle at being less than a word. Do you draw the line or does it aimlessly meander as it does?

Any sentence can be offensive but we are nearing a point where the laughable can become liable. If I think our Prime Minister Trudeau is a selfie-stick who will be seen for the boy he is when the nation’s thumbs up tacks fall out of his pin up poster of politics; it would be a shame not to.

I was thinking about the bathroom pooh haw haw south of us. It’s a real pickle and surgically so. It has been trans-planted into an election. I foresee the writing on the wall being torn off or at least the washroom symbols on the doors. Will individuals who even temporarily identify as being more of one gender than what could be argued as assigned by God be free to pee from a contrary point?

If exposure alleviates fear and prejudices this is one way to do it. I guess the real question is whether the way it was set up is worse than the way it will be re-written? Who has the right to comfort in a comfort station? You? Me? Anyone? Everyone? Who will the solution please and who will the solution displease? Is it progress when the rights of the few are foul to the many? Does female poop contaminate male poop? You can either put a menu on the washroom door or it is open for people in any washroom to be of any identifiable gender or unidentifiable gender.

Maybe all the fuss is that if we get rid of the pictures on washroom doors so must we remove sexual identity from payroll. I guess segregating who poop’s and pee’s where is still segregation. In some small way civil rights have entered the toilet. I understand that people have rights but there are times when that right might just be a wrong.

We can’t expect everyone to be in the same place as some are regarding sexual identity. Does my 85 year old step-father have a say? Where are his rights when you’re screaming for yours? Where are his rights when someone with breasts stands next to him at a urinal? Is it fair to expect individuals like him to shed over 80 years of upbringing and personal propriety so a chick with a dick can take a more pleasurable piss? Is it okay if someone’s grandmother would rather powder her nose without the patron next to her powdering an Adam’s apple?

Maybe it wouldn’t be chaotic but will it be a comfort to my 85 year old step-father? I don’t give a shit where you do just that: all I’m asking is that when all these individual rights are being claimed for that his voice is not lost in your chants for fairness.

I realize it is my 85 year old step-father with the problem. He should have to retrace 80 years of what he considered and his societies considered appropriate. He has Parkinson’s so he’s busy with that but I guess he should rearrange most of what was imparted on him since childhood. He will no doubt go from an individual who should be recognized for leading an exemplary life to a family shame. He will like the slave owner will not be held in high regard. People will whisper that when he ran a business he only allowed the men in the men’s room and the women in theirs. He will be called a segregationist and it will be rumored they were all across North America.

Maybe we should have to use the washroom according to how we were sexed at birth. It’s a simple rule. Maybe we can pay homage to the nature that is and always will be a part of each of us. You can maim it but it cannot be destroyed. You can be whoever you want but don’t expect everyone to agree with your measures.