Oh Canada [this is eh!]

Remember Your Winter Tires

nobody@vox.com(grantalias) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 21:50:39 -0800

Next time you bitch about how it's now a law in Quebec to have winter tires between December 15th and March 15th, there might be a reason for it. I should mention that this photo was taken on December 8th, a full 24 hours before the 35cm of snow that the Montreal region received on December 9th.

This is probably the most unique car in ditch poses I've ever seen in person.

A block from work

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Olympic Torch Relay

nobody@vox.com(grantalias) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 19:47:30 -0800

Here comes the flame

This morning I took the three kids to watch the Olympic Torch relay as it passed through town on it's way to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.

Before you think I'm the best dad ever, just to let you know I did totally lose it on them getting everyone ready and out of the house on time. In the end think we got there 5 to 10 minutes before the relay arrived.

It was pretty exciting to actually see the flame coming down the street. We have been watching the daliy updates on the local news so I think with ET being the oldest he understood what was going on.

I'm glad we saw it at the town hall since with the kids being so young I think just watching along the route would have been too quick for them.

Mukmuk is their favorite mascot

I was hoping that we might have seen some of the mascots as they are super cute and kids would have enjoyed it but they probably save them for the big end of day celebrations. Or not since they seem to be currently on tour in British Columbia. This weekend I'll try to make some folded paper mascots with the kids.

When the relay arrived the crowd of course swarmed and left us on the outside so quickly (because I knew this whole was just going to last a few minutes) I put Carts on my shoulders, put a foot up on the carriage and balanced ET up on my knee so they could see the flame. I would love to see a photo of that, I must have looked crazy.

Olympic Torch Relay

And like that it was over.

walking back after

The boys seemed to have enjoyed it but noticed people had little Olympic flags and like a Norwegian Blue were pinning for the fjords wanted one (we did do an arts and crafts before bedtime and they made there own). We went in the city library to see if they had any but unfortunately they were all out. They had refreshments but the boys didn't want any so we started walking back to the car.

On the way back I noticed the relay bus was parked around the back of city hall and some people were milling about. So I headed over. I'm glad we did since one of the relay runners let the boys hold a torch and posed for a photo. Best advice I can ever give my kids; you want to meet someone after an event, run the around back.

Touching the torch

I even got AR in there so she can't come back in 20 years and ask why she wasn't in the photo; even though she just started standing up last week not holding onto anything. Dad's still one step ahead of you kids.

While it might not be something the kids remember when they are grown, it was a fun event for them in the short term and as a parent you get excited to see your kids excited. When I picked up ET at school today he had two drawings of the mascots holding Olympic torches and he told me how one of the torch bearers had visited the school today as well and talked to his class. It's still strange for me when he recounts things that happened that I wasn't there with him for. You get excited because he's growing up and sad since he doesn't need you around.

And of course the last time the torch came to town was in 1988 for the Calgary Winter Olympics games and who knows the next time we'll get a chance to see it.

Plus I have to thank my boss Cindy for letting me take the time off work.

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Book Review- The Secret History of the American Empire by John Perkins

nobody@vox.com(MaiCecile) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 11:37:22 -0800

The Secret History of the American Empire by John Perkins

New York: Dutton (Penguin Group Inc.)

June 2007

John Perkins writes out of guilt. Carrying on in the tradition of Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, The Secret History of the American Empire is a form of atonement for the author to right his wrongs after what he feels were years of exploiting the weak as an employee of major corporations. However, this time around, he aims to do more than merely confess. His purpose is to effect change. Perkins maintains a positive perspective, despite the fact that the bulk of his account revolves arounda

depressing theme of the destruction of the earth and its inhabitants, perpetrated largely by the greed and materialism of the United States. In the Prologue he states, “I want to emphasize that you will not find gloom and doom in these pages” (2). He stresses optimism and the necessity of positive action. While his work has the potential to inspire would-be movers and shakers, it is somewhat weighed down by the blurring of the timeline of events and a heavy reliance on his own memory that leaves a question mark in the area of credibility. Still, the book carries enough weight to be a powerful tool for advocates of economic, social and environmental responsibility as it is both a history of American imperialism and a resource for how people can begin to change the existing system.

Perkins purpose in writing this book is outlined in both his Prologue and his concluding chapter. The author expounds on his previous work, which was a biography of his years as an “Economic Hit Man” (EHM), to include confessions from other EHMs and members of corporations, governments, NGOs and the Peace Corps. These reports are linked to the history of how the United States has used the developing world as an extension of their own resources, and the violence, unrest, and extreme poverty in developing countries that have occurred as a direct result. In doing so, Perkins hopes that he can spread the idea that things must change, and that every individual has a responsibility to do his or her own part to effect this change.

In order to accomplish his aims, Perkins organizes his account into four regions, with Part 5, entitled “Changing the World,” being reserved for his main message. The regions include nations in Asia, Latin America, The Middle East and Africa. Most of these are former European colonies, now developing countries who have struggled economically under loans from the IMF and World Bank. Each section covers both the history of economic colonialism in the area, as well as his personal accounts of his own sins and those of other “Economic Hit Men” and jackals. While EHMs use their influence to pave the way for Western corporations to exploit resources, jackals employ threats, violence and assassination to enforce the West’s economic empire. Perkins employs all forms of writing-narrative, descriptive and expository- in order to give us a complete picture of the history, setting, and problems of the regions he describes. He is a gifted storyteller, and as such uses every tool in his arsenal to appeal to both the emotions and intellect of his readers.

The first section (Asia) sets the tone for the rest of the book. Perkins describes Asian cities where the population is ravaged by either a foreign government or foreign investors who mould their country into one which forces them into either unemployment or work in one of Asia’s notorious sweatshops. Against this backdrop, corporate executives and corrupt government officials live lives of shameless opulence, chuckling to themselves at their own fortune and cunning. Near the end of the section, Perkins describes an encounter with the Dalai Lama that informs both his decision to become an author, his work with non-profits, as well as the content of the rest of the book. The Dalai Lama’s encouragement to, “practice compassion,” (65) shows in Perkins’ willingness to treat even the greatest economic offenders with respect and forgiveness.

The next section on South America continues the trend, but with the addition of what Perkins refers to as “Maya killers,” men who are either bodyguards of the corporate elite or part of a dictator’s military, mainly trained at the School of the Americas (now the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation, or WHINSEC) and whose main role is to subjugate an oppressed population. It is in the South American division of the book that Perkins’ fascination with and sympathy towards indigenous cultures comes through. The author of several books on aboriginal cultures, Perkins lauds the indigenous movements of Latin America, praising political leaders who take pride in their heritage. He points to men like Che Guevara, Hugo Chavez, and Evo Morales who rose from the indigenous community and stood up to Western imperialism as being the forces of unity in the continent that have inspired people groups all over the world to hope for change. The importance of the earth to indigenous cultures also becomes a theme, contrasting sharply with the lack of environmental responsibility most foreign companies in Latin America display.

The Middle East is where Perkins really channels the post WWII spy thrillers, which he alludes, may not have been so far from the truth with their back alley deals and silent assassinations. Espionage plays a big part in this section, as Perkins essentially attributes the creation of EHMs to CIA agent Kermit Roosevelt Jr., a precursor for private sector employees sent to create favourable conditions in developing countries for Western corporations. The story of the Middle East in Perkins’ account is mainly one of a race for oil, a race that has caused rampant unrest and war in the area, as well as the kind of culture clash Samuel Huntington described between the Christian West and the militant Islamic parts of the Middle East.

The next section (Africa) is closely linked to the Middle East, but adds diamonds, gold, copper, tantalum (coltan) and uranium to the list of resources that the United States aims to control. Perkins links the modern exploitation of Africa to two events: the rise of independence movements searching for a way into the new world economic system and the OPEC embargoes of the 1970s that left the United States and other Western Nations searching for new sources of oil. Africa had what the West wanted, and in many cases African leaders were willing to give in the demands of the United States in order to either fill their own pockets, or make a misguided attempt at jumpstarting their country’s economy. Including Africa as the last region is also strategic in terms of his message. Africa’s history of slavery, colonial exploitation and genocide is a useful springboard to ensure we are paying attention to the last part of the book, the one Perkins fittingly titles, “Changing the World”.

In the last chapter, Perkins attacks what he feels is the main detractor to people standing up to corporations: fear. He describes the social justice exploits of everyone from college and high school students to reformed executives to prove that it can be done. Perkins relies largely on the actions of the Rainforest Action Network (RAN), an organization he is intimately involved in, as inspiration for how NGOs are forcing corporations to become more environmentally and socially responsible. The last chapter concludes with a call to action that assures readers that they have the necessary tools to start making a difference.

The division of the book into these regional stories is the main reason that the dates of events get lost in the shuffle. Perkins jumps from one decade to another depending on which story best suits his theme at the time. For those to whom the sequence of events is important, this structure can be off-putting. The jumble of history, personal encounters and second-hand accounts can become confusing if you are attempting to take the book as a true historical work. However, this tactic also gives Perkins an air of world-worn wisdom as it emphasizes the scope of his work as a Peace Corps volunteer, EHM, non-profit worker and public speaker.

Despite the organization of how they are interspersed in the work, Perkins’ addition of well-known historical facts, public figures, and big-name corporations lend credibility to his work. If his experiences are indeed as he says, Perkins is an authoritative source for telling the story of American economic imperialism. The main detractor from this writing tactic is his penchant for recreating entire conversations, some of which occurred thirty or more years ago. Although he says in the prologue that he has attempted to recreate these events using his own personal correspondence and notes, as well as historical records, one has to wonder how much has been lost to the passage of time. While the dialogues have the benefit of making the book a more interesting read, recounting them complete with facial expressions and pensive silences take away any chance of this work being accepted as a true history of events.

As a best-selling author, Perkins ensures that The Secret History of the American Empire has something for everyone, both the older generation, worried about their future, as well as the younger generation, worried about their present and the responsibilities they now must shoulder. The author understands the American public well. For more critical readers, he lays down cold hard facts and statistics. It is difficult to fault his critique of the brutality of sweatshops and the intervention of the United States in foreign governments, as these are views that are held by a large percentage of the world, including many academics who have written extensively on both subjects. However, he also makes sure that the average reader, picking his book off the shelf at a Coles on whim, is not easily bored. Using cliff-hangers at the end of each chapter, much like a best-selling work of fiction, Perkins style reads like a suspense novel about the shady history of our modern Western affluence. His final chapter also goes beyond the boundaries of age and race and speaks to readers from the developing world in order to mobilise and encourage them towards living more sustainable lives. A list of ideas for how to do so and appendices of charities, NGOs and advocacy groups dominate the end of the book. Perkins leaves no room for excuses of ignorance from his readers.

While The Secret History of the American Empire may not be useful as a credible academic source, it is a powerful interpretation of the experiences of individuals and countries that have come into contact with the ruthless greed of American imperialism. Despite the content, Perkins keeps his promise of maintaining optimism throughout the book, and ends with an assumption that we are going to answer his call to action. His urgency is effective. If we take anything away from his account, it is that the corporations of the United States, in collusion with the American government, have been allowed to use the earth and the people in it as they please for far too long, and that some kind of change is necessary. John Perkins has made, and continues to make his change with speaking tours, his non-profit the Pachamama Alliance, and notably, his written works. “Today is the day,” (329) for us to decide what ours will be.

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To be a woman

nobody@vox.com(MaiCecile) — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 20:07:02 -0800

To crack and break

Twisted off like a twig

Thrown outside the circle

Discarded to the birds

Ignored

To bend and sway

Dipping with pain

Deep in your belly

And tears that stream

So to wash it all away

To push and shove

Till your arms are aching

Breathing in gasps

Eyes…burning

It still, unmoving

To stand strong

Though you are naked

On a pedestal, high

With eyes raking

Over your pride

To smile slowly

With sorrow behind

That makes your hands

Reach out to another

Sweetly

To hold a small one

Close to your heart

And feel as though

You will die

If they do

To clasp hands

With others like you

With a song in your souls

To share

And keep, keep on sharing

To look to the sun

And dream without shame

With a fierce audacity

That won’t be quenched

To Be of God

To glow

(This is a poem that I wrote and will read on December 7th for the Women's Triumps and Tragedies Art Show put on by the New Democrats at my university.)

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Sloan - Hit & Run

nobody@vox.com(grantalias) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 13:11:16 -0800

Sloan

The new Sloan EP Hit & Run has dropped (as they say) and it's pretty good.

If you're unfamiliar with Sloan I'll make the assumption that you don't live in Canada but if you do... shame on you. And if you don't live here you should move, I'll wait.

Do yourself a favor and click play below and listen to the album as you read the rest of my review.

Sloan - Hit & Run

The title of the EP is most probably in reference to band member Chris Murphy being injured in a hit & run accident this past summer. That caused the group to cancel shows while he recouped.

As a long time fan it hits all the Sloan standards with tracks like Take It Upon Yourself, hand claps and all. It would have fit in nicely on their 1999 album Between the Bridges. It Is Never is pure Sloan awesomeness, but I'm a sucker for layered songs that build up to distortion endings that reprise the main theme. Plus I've always had a man crush on Patrick Pentland and his songs.

One of Sloan's strengths can also be a weakness on a five song EP like Hit & Run. With four distinctive song writers the variation can be jarring switching between them. Jay Ferguson's Midnight Mass is a perfect example of this problem. It's a good song but sandwiched between two up tempo ones brings down the energy. Which is a shame since Jay Ferguson has done some really great songs with excellent lyrics and melodies over the years.

That said it's a good addition to the Sloan catalog of memorable songs.

Sloan is offering the EP in MP3 320kbs, Apple Lossless and Flac formats directly from their site in addition to other music stores.

This is unreladed to the Hit & Run EP, but Witch's Wand was one of my favorite songs off their last album Parallel Play but the video that I just got around to watching is so weird I have no idea what's going on.

Sloan - Witch's Wand

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Welcome to My World

nobody@vox.com(MaiCecile) — Thu, 14 May 2009 20:09:49 -0700

Dear readers,

First off, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read my blog.

A little about me:

I am a Canadian who spent my childhood in Africa, but went to high school in Toronto, Ontario (the city with the CN Tower- I know, pretty cool, eh?). Currently I am a fourth-year university student doing a major in a program that I fondly have dubbed "Hippie School," with classes such as How to Save the World 101. I have always been preoccupied with how our actions affect others, and how they can change our communities for good. My program of study has given me the tools to take that preoccupation to the next level. It has opened my eyes to how our world works, taught me to be open to the ideas of others, and to think critically.

A little about this blog:

I have always loved writing. My purpose is to just have an outlet where I can keep writing in preparation for applying to a grad program in journalism. I have put my interests in the tags, and those will be primarily what I write about. To reiterate: politics, globalization, the environment, religion, culture, fashion, pop culture, the media. I am most interested in how my generation is dealing with the issues of our time. Our attitudes and actions today are a good litmus test of how we will deal with the responsibility of being the movers and shakers of a world with some pretty messed-up problems.

As an introduction to me I hope that this has served its purpose. I will be posting my second piece very soon (as it is already written) to really get started.

Happy reading!

with hope,

Meg

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Dear CBC

nobody@vox.com(Tryphaena) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 15:29:22 -0700

This is a delayed post. I wrote it a month ago into my day planner, just having to get it off my chest one day, but unable to get to computer.

Dear CBC,

Please do not prop-up the electorates poor understanding of the workings of parliamentary democracy by using the term "prop-up" to describe opposition parties support, or lack thereof, of the current minority government. You know the power of words, sharing them over the air as you do every day, and know full well that my connotation (if not even denotation) you are lending an air of illegitimacy to the government it does not deserve. The goal of the government is to gain the confidence of the House, and, if an opposition party opts to support it, fine. That is good and proper. By alluding to parties as simply unthinkingly holding up a government that can't hold its own, which is what you imply when using the misleading term, you do the public a disservice by spreading misinformation. In my mind, it is as bad as those who wrongly called last fall's coalition of opposing parties "illegal." That term did a great deal of harm to many of the public's already limited knowledge of parliamentary democracy.

If the government gains the support of the House - fine. If they fail to do so - fine. Either way, each party is legitimately pursuing the governance of this country, the task we have elected them to do.

Sincerely,

Tryphaena, a faithful CBC listener
except for the afternoons, because I don't like the new programming. Oh, and I don't blame you; I know the Conservatives slashed you budget, so I can even understand why you'd want to have a go at them when you can, but still. Take the high road.

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Zellers Starts Treating its Customers Like Sweat Shop Workers

nobody@vox.com(brianmovinginvan) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 22:10:27 -0700

Logo_Zellers

Like many things in life it started out as something simple a trip to the mall to buy summer shorts. What the trip reveled about global markets and low prices was what was enlightening.

First it was the clothes themselves over produced with features that on one really wanted or need. Give me break men are not looking for shorts with internal waist bands. Then when I asked for for a fitting room I was walk to other side fo the store right in the middle of woman's lingerie dept. When I went to changing are no staff member was there and I walked in on elderly asian women who trying on top. I left the store upset. Today I thought I give another try and it was better and worse. There was clerk at the front the fitting room telling you were to go but their A/C working on the hottest day of year the and the checker looked like she was working in a sweat shop oh sorry she was working in a sweat shop and i was shopping in sweat shop and buying something made in sweat shop it just did not feel right. Zeller's you can do a better job.

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Summer in the City

nobody@vox.com(MaiCecile) — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 09:01:21 -0700

I am so sorry friends that I neglected to tell you I would be away from a computer for a month and a half! I am in Toronto working at an inner-city ministry as a lifeguard and camp counselor. But rest assured I am building up material and blog posts in my little moleskine notebook! Happy Summer all!
Some upcoming posts:
The Way You Make Me Feel- how the emotions in MJ's music bridges generations
Part 1 of A Blonde African's Diary
That's all for now folks! It's off to yet another week in the forest for me :) Canoeing, reading, playing guitar, sitting on the dock and lifeguarding...I am gradually building my tan despite my spf 50 sunscreen! :)
Happy Summer.

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What I Learned from my Father

nobody@vox.com(MaiCecile) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 17:41:16 -0700

I can sum up my early relationship with my dad in one word: hero. My dad was my hero. I saw him as the protector, the fun-maker, and the thinker. When we would have guests over, I would sometimes prefer to sit on his knee or beside him while the other kids played. I would listen and watch with wide eyes as he talked with other adults, giving his opinion with the smile that crinkles his eyes and scrunches up his nose. When others talked, my dad would listen with careful, humble consideration. I can always tell in his eyes how hard he is thinking about what people are saying. And whether he agrees or not, his eyes always hold the same respect. From him I learned to always look at both sides of a situation, and to value others’ opinions no matter what my own might be.

Up until I was ten years old my father had no sons. Living in Africa, I grew up with a healthy appreciation for adventure. My dad recognized this and fostered it. So alongside my dolls I played with the bow he had made me, sharpening my own arrows with my mock Swiss Army knife and targeting passing sheep (until Dad stopped that practice and I had to resort to aiming at rocks and bushes). I was a warrior princess, Robyn Hood’s equal. My Dad’s confidence made me feel strong. “I don’t want my girls to be wimps,” he would say in a playfully rough voice, gently punching my arm.

My dad may have given me soccer balls and bows and arrows, but he never made me feel that I had to choose between those and my more feminine playthings. He cared for and protected my sensitivity, cradling me whether it was my heart or my knee that was wounded. He also made me feel beautiful, telling me often how pretty I was. I remember so many times in my awkward teenage years, I would come out of my room ready for a concert or for church and he would look at me with tenderness in his eyes and say, “My girl is so pretty.” I knew that he meant it, and somehow his approval made everyone else’s not so important.

For my graduation, my father wrote me a beautiful letter. He told me how proud he was of me. Then, near the end of the note, he told me that I was his first heroine. My father’s heroes are men like Blaise Pascal, C.S. Lewis and William Wilberforce. When I read those words that placed me next to people of such accomplishment and passion I began to cry. My dad thought me worthy of the title- heroine- and suddenly all the dreams I had to change the world were not so very far off.

My father has also instilled in me a great sense of heritage. He tells me stories and talks about my family’s history in England and Wales as if it were part of our everyday, modern lives. A writer himself, Dad has recorded stories for me of my grandfather who I knew only briefly as a child before he passed away. In this way I have learned a lot about my dad, and in turn, about myself. He helps me discover where I have come from in order to better discern where I am going.

My father is a sensitive man, but he does not cry often. In fact, I know of only a few times he has shed tears. Of those times, I have only seen one. It was the night I left home and flew back to Canada to begin university. I had a hard time believing that Dad was even crying until one of the girls I was travelling with confirmed it. Those tears spoke more to me than all the parting words we exchanged. They meant that I am cared for, that I am important, and that I will always have someone to protect me when I am vulnerable.

Through the past few years, as I have tried to take my place in a world full of heartache and failure, my dad’s encouragement and confidence in me has rested in my heart like an anchor, able to withstand even the ugliest storm. I have come to him many times with my head spinning with questions of history, theology and social justice. He patiently unravels my ideas, discusses each point, and researches answers he doesn’t know. It has also been a great honour when I have been able to share with him things that I have learned or beliefs that I have developed. I don’t strive, as some do with their own fathers, to win his approval. He is proud of me now, and that in part gives me the confidence to take on tasks that may seem insurmountable. He tells people proudly that I am in a program in university studying to “save the world.” I may roll my eyes, but I cannot help but smile because he too thinks it possible. I’m not alone in dreaming that God can do all things. I’m not alone in hoping for a better place for those who are hurting. My dad is there too, and his prayers and confidence mean everything to me.

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