Wanted immediately

Wanted: A little faith in a system---any system. Doesn't have to be in perfect condition, just has to be functional. Mine is dented beyond repair, need replacement fast. Donut will do. Just has to get me home.

Critical mass

Montreal

America

Bush in particular (av)

Bush leading (av)

OK, maybe this gives me some hope.

And this does, too. Finally, I can be proud of where I came from. No, not same-sex parents---Nova Scotia.

Rarely are quizzes bang-on

But, the one I took this morn, while choking back my coffee and dwelling on the fact that my arm aches from being hyperextended by the female officer who reallllly hated my Michael Moore-ish-ness, was seriously bang on:

Your score is 0 on a scale of 1 to 10. You hate Bush with a writhing passion.You think he is an idiot, a liar, and a warmonger who has been a miserable failure as president. Nothing would give you greater pleasure than seeing him run out of the White House, except maybe seeing him dragged away in handcuffs.

You can take it here.

On 'big'

I'm supposed to be working on assignments for work. Instead, I'm working on a basement* theory:

Could the social ill that causes people to buy guzzler SUVs (and consider cycling a personal affront) be the very same as the one that makes them eat fast/processed food and watch TV indiscriminately?

Is this desire to be 'big' (physically or only by mechanical extension) related? Is this the same urge to expand that makes people support Bush's Iraq fiasco? Or is it the TV they've been watching indiscriminately?

Do they really just want to be 'big'? Or do they just watch too much TV? Even TVs are getting bigger.

Why is everything expanding *except* polar ice caps and populations of besieged nations?

*Basement theory = An unverifiable theory employing tautological arguments, usually developed during periods of sleep deprivation (or substance use/abuse) - commonly a thinly disguised rant about some aspect of Western culture.

Psoriatic identities

I am not American.

Never am I more acutely aware of this than when I try to register for an online radio station which reminds me between every 5th and 6th song that if I *were* the music would be clearer; I'd be permitted to skip over the depressing diddies; and I'd have access to a much larger selection. I am, however, not allowed to register. The service is not available to Canadians - but that doesn't stop the program from broadcasting its watchword - telling me that things could be better...if only...but, alas:

I am Canadian.

Ok, so maybe I was also aware of my Canadianonimity while on a road trip through the USA 2 years ago. More specifically, though, I was aware that I was not that which the local majority was. In Texas, the feeling that I was not Texan was predominant. When I was in Las Vegas, I realized the buffets weren't worth it. In Detroit, I was just grateful that the border was near.

There are aspects of the USA that frighten me - and then there is New York.

The bright-lights-Times-Square-New-York makes my ears bleed. But elsewhere, where you can hear the sweet squeal of the trains, feel the goo that drips onto your bare summer skin from the roof of the subway, the rush of the summer rains that wash the trash and old furniture further down the street, the cackling of the unsupervised children who attack bus passengers with water balloons at red lights, the hazard of encountering people who'll offer you directions even though they have no idea where they are, and the quiet, dirty streets and noisy, dirty bars - the city is my sinful, lusty, dirty fantasy---and my friends there: perverts.

I do love my current multicultural, multilingual Canadian province of residence: Quee-beck. And, I know some of my American friends and acquaintances love my Sinful Home to the North as much as I adore their Sinful City to the South.

Recently, in fact, a visiting amateur of this belle ville announced that Montreal is sooooooo fun, that *it* should be the capital of Canada, not Toronto.

I would have agreed.