Feminism and the unconstitutionality of S. 213 of the Criminal Code

Fear mongering is destructive, misleading and causes unnecessary social hysteria.  Certain Canadian media outlets and Members of Parliament are more guilty than others when it comes to drumming up emotion in the court of public opinion.  Yesterday’s decision by Ontario Superior Court Justice Himel to strike down provisions of the Criminal Code as unconstitutional unleashed a wave of public madness across the country, fueled in part by fear mongering.

What has been fascinating to observe in this debate is the replacement of sociological evidence with haughty scare tactics used by the media, MPs and the public when discussing this issue and its potential outcomes.  For an articulation of my point, see the below quote from today’s Globe and Mail:

The ruling also left police confused and neighbourhoods fortifying to fend off a possible deluge of sex-trade workers.[1]

A possible deluge… really? A deluge? This is precisely the type of  journalistic exaggeration that does nothing to foster informed discussion and punctures the veil of civility which ought to protect public discourse on potentially sensitive issues such as this one.

What concerns me, though, is how this brand of illogical approach to the discussion of an issue influences public opinion.  People seem to be mistaken about the pragmatic implication of this decision. Reading reader comments on various national media websites, hearing the reaction of certain MPs and listening to the discussions being held by rank and file Canadians has lead me to conclude one major thing: the entire country has constructed a straw man.  A logical fallacy is being committed every time this decision is misunderstood and reacted to by those who perceive it as paving the way for Canada’s inclusion in the international ranks of prostitution safe-havens:

“What planet does this judge live on?” asked Lisa Stephens Immen, former chairman [sic.] of an umbrella group of resident associations known as The Neighbourhoods’ Forum. “I hope that all the naive fools who support this ruling will be gifted with the task of picking up the used condoms in their own nice neighbourhoods.”[2]

Again, this line of reasoning is fallacious as it sets up a straw man proposition, and then attacks it.  It creates the “illusion of having refuted a proposition by substituting a superficially similar yet unequivalent [sic.] proposition and refuting that one, without ever having actually refuted the original position.”[3]  What this decision will actually do is alleviate the impact prostitution has on residential communities by allowing its establishment in protected, private areas.  If prostitution is legalized, it is more likely that stray condoms will cease to be found in parks and streets because the sexual acts warranting their use will be taking place in lisenced brothels or homes, and not in public places.  The public safety aspect of legalizing prostitution is significant not only for those who are directly involved in the sex trade, but by Canadians as a whole.  If members of a community do not like finding needles or used condoms in their neighbourhood, the logical response is to support this decision, not attack it with misguided logic based upon unfounded data and public hysteria.

What is also curious about this issue is the misguided sense of social morality being engaged by opponents of Justice Himel’s decision.  Striking down these provisions as unconstitutional has nothing to do with morality, it has to do with the Constitutional validity of laws.  It isn’t about whether some Canadians, represented by Justice Himel and her decision, want to open the floodgates and allow prostitution and brothels to permeate every community in Canada and flourish therein.  It is about applying a legal standard to a piece of legislation, weighing the merits of each side and holding that the law in question violates the Charter right to life, liberty and security of the person.  More importantly, that the law being examined violates Charter rights to such an extent that it is ruled of no force and effect immediately, articulates the severity of the Constitutional breach.  Whether that law aims at regulating certain types of speech, the power of the state to search and detain or the ability of a prostitute to solicit business is immaterial to the overarching Constitutional principles that are engaged by all types of laws, and the scrutiny necessitated by their proclamation.

The public relations campaigns on both sides in this debate are not without their blunders.  Framing the decision as a victory for “women’s liberation” by its supporters, and saying it will lead to a rapid influx of human trafficking by those opposed to it, are equally harmful positions to assume. By championing this victory as women being able to choose who they have sex with and when trivializes the actual reasons for the decision.  The law was held to be unconstitutional because of the way it forces marginalized, vulnerable women into even more unsafe situations and thus, violates Section 7. By framing the issue in a way that mischaracterizes it as emancipating for women leads one to believe these women have actually had a choice in choosing to prostitute themselves on the street.  Sure, some have, but many women working as prostitutes are there because of a culmination of horrible events that have occurred in their lives. It is these lives that are completely under the radar and that s. 213 of the Code aggravates even further. Contouring this decision as a victory for sexual liberation ignores this victimization and marginalization, and is an extremely perilous view to perpetuate.  The reality is that if this case fails at the Supreme Court of Canada in x number years, the government will then draft a new law that addresses the s. 7 concerns by not forcing these women into the street.  Once that law is challenged, it is very unlikely that any judge in the future is going to overturn it because it violates women's sexual freedom. Sexual freedom, and the Charter right to life, liberty and security of the person are not the same issue.

Justice Himel didn’t impugn this legislation because she wants young women to see prostitution as a desirable “career choice” (yet another straw man that wholly misses the legal points at issue in this case).  She did so because people who work in the sex trade need to be protected.  All we need to do to see the urgency in this is look to the ease with which serial killer Robert Pickton preyed upon vulnerable women who worked as prostitutes in Vancouver’s downtown Eastside; or, the over 300 missing women in Alberta whose disappearances are still unexplained and who worked and lived on the street.[4]  What this decision says is that these lives are important; that the justice system and parliament and Canadians as a whole cannot continue to ignore and marginalize women because they live in absolute poverty and work on the street.  By continuing to force them into unsafe situations and unsafe conditions, where their bodies are easily taken, used and abused, seemingly without consequence, Canada has repeatedly affirmed these lives aren’t worth protecting.  Well, not anymore.

Analogous to the InSite debate (the safe injection site in Vancouver’s downtown east side), the aim of striking down prostitution legislation is harm reduction.  It’s not about sanctioning certain types of conduct that have been historically labeled as amoral or wrong; it’s about realizing the complete impossibility of governments and societies to rid themselves of drugs and people who want to buy sex, and taking the responsible approach of constructing ways to legislate around these social tribulations.  Such is the reality of modern society: people are not going to stop using illegal drugs or paying for sexual services, no matter how hard you make it to get, or find, or use, or the penalties you tack on to being caught trying to get, find or use them.

Like InSite, Justice Himel’s ruling has sent conservative-minded Canadians into a blither.   Of course one is entitled to their opinion, and certainly no one would ever argue that using intervenes drugs or paying for sex in an alleyway are markers of a good, healthy society. However, the only question I think that is relevant in this debate is, what’s the alternative?

Forcing women onto the margins of society by refusing them access to the protection of the law and society in general does nothing but say certain lives aren’t worth the same as others; that women, often of low socio-economic status, often non-white and Aboriginal, who work in the sex trade don’t deserve our help and protection.  At play in this mentality is an overtly patriarchal view of women and a racially intolerant attitude that says these lives aren’t worth protecting because of the discomfort it will cause the hegemonic majority in this country, should we allow prostitutes to operate legally.  What, then, do our laws say about how we treat the most vulnerable in our society?  How do we begin to fashion our laws in a way that reflects Canadian ideas about equality, justice and social welfare? By having the courage and foresight to strike down legislation that violates our basic ideas of freedom, liberty and equality and by the continued protection of these rights within our just society, as Justice Himel did yesterday.

And further, and without trying to overly simplify the issue, who cares if people want to pay for sex from other people? As long as its regulated and safety standards are imposed, who really cares?  The fascination with the sexual behaviour of complete strangers is an explicable phenomenon that does not pertain to most people’s lives directly. Like Civil Unions, I can’t understand why these issues become such hot button pressure points in social discussion.  Anyway, perhaps that discussion is best saved for another day.

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[1] Makin, Kirk. “Police, communities struggle to grasp prostitution ruling”, The Globe and Mail, September 30, 2010, http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/police-communities-struggle-to-grasp-prostitution-ruling/article1733812/.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Pirie, Madsen. How to Win Every Argument: The Use and Abuse of Logic. January 2007, UK: Continuum International Publishing Group.

[4]

Bloggy Nights

Had a good Monday. Started by a jet-lag induced 6:45 am wake up, followed by lazy email checking and a quick Globe headline scan: Twitterati and volcanic delays aren't really my bag, baby. 7:20 am brought about the elephants upstairs, which precipitated the input of my foamy earplugs and an arduous climb back into bed. Next thing I know it's 1:30 pm.

Decided to check out Mitte, which is the posh area of town.  Popped into a few stores, but nothing fit my body nor my budget so came home empty handed.  A coffee-induced buzz led me to go for yet another run along the canal which was beautiful.  The Berliners really are an outdoorsy folk.

Whenever the temperature swells above -10, they flock to the banks of the nearest canal, infiltrate the patchwork of public bacci courts, volksparks or the Spree, and enjoy the weather. Nice as it is to pass cluster after cluster of chain smoking Berliners with various types of beer in hand, sometimes I just want to stop running and join in.  Many people bring little grills along to cook up mini-feasts, which I don't have to tell you is a double-edged sword.  In Kreuzberg, the Turkish influence on the grill is palpable; kebabs both inspire and discourage the continuation of exercise and my cadence always seems to reflect this inner tension.  Needless to say, Berlin continues to be a flummoxing melange of progression and frustration.

After a rewarding day of urban expedition, I decided to treat myself to a nice dinner out. Equipped with my latest political science acquisition and a pack full of cigarettes, I elected to check out one of the many inviting patios I'd passed on said runs. I arrived around 8 p.m. and seated myself on the leafy patio which overhangs the cobblestone promenade and further, the canal. I settle in. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty minutes pass and still no service. Am I that obvious? Does no one dine out alone anymore!?

Part II coming tomorrow.

Dear Germany: Your Bureaucracy is crippling.

This is a new one. 

Where to start? 

Trying to get online at school. That seems simple enough. I've been lugging around my macbook in the vain hope of being able to surf the net during class, so inquired on Monday of how I was to do this. Ohhhh dear, this isn't possible until your registration is complete. 

Yeah right. Me being me, thinking I am above the rules or at least proficient in their circumvention, I try at the library - sorry, "Komputerpool"- yesterday.  You know, just to try and get wireless access or at the very least, access to a computer.  Most fervently: not a chance. 

Alright, fine. I will wait until my registration is complete. Can I at least check my gdamn email? Um, no. 

Is there a temporary user name and password I can use, just to send a quick note to the international office? No. 

Ok, fine. Can I quickly borrow YOUR computer to access the Internet for 3 minutes? Well, umm, well, ok, I guess.  Now, setting up my wireless account is an entirely different story. Try and follow along.

1)  In order to get a wireless account, you need to be a registered "matriculated" student. Ok, great. Let's register.  This process, by the way, I initiated on Monday.

 a.  In order to register, you need to pay your fee (great! no problem). To do this, you need to go to this weird little corner where the Kasse is located, wait in a 25 minute line up for the ONE man behind the glass to take your form and cash and give you a till receipt (not even kidding, like a 1915 till receipt) sign it and stamp it, and this is your proof of payment. Wow, a till receipt. Ok, fine. March the 10 minutes and 4 flights of stairs BACK to the registration lady, and oh what a surprise, another 30 minute line up. Right. I can miss the first 10 minutes of Intro to Jewish law and wait.

b.  The second requirement is to show proof of Berlin residency. Lovely.  I can show this no problem.  In order to do this, you need to a) print off the form.  This seems very easy, but with no printer at home and not being able to access the f---ing COMPUTER LAB, how am I supposed to print anything?  I cross the hall to see my girl Dr. S in the international office, and she'll print it out for me. Oh, but wait, I DON'T SPEAK GERMAN. Hmmm, alright, Dr. S can help me fill it in. Check. 

 i) So back to the form. It needs to be signed by the landlord. Problem: I am kind of illegally subletting - or well, I am an unauthorized sublettor - of a room in a flat. But everyone in Berlin is an unauthorized sublettor of a room in a flat.  Why is everyone an unauthorized sublettor of a room in a flat? Hmmm perhaps because it takes 100 years and a signed note from Kaiser Wilhelm I to get your name on the fucking lease. Anyways. So I leave the form out with a note and some chocolate for my flatmate, who I would have liked to talk to in person, only she leaves the house by 7:30 am and hasn't been back before 11 pm, which is the latest I've stayed up so far.  Finally this morning I get her note, which basically says she won't fill in the landlord's info (I was advised to just forge the signature of the landlord, in any case) until we talk to the girl whose name is on the actual lease and whose room I am subletting... only she is travelling in Syria and who knows when she will access her email next. Ok. We'll leave this for now.

ii)  So I come to the computer lab and lo and behold, I can now access the computers. Praise the Lord. I email my contact in the international office with my problem re: landlord and unauthorized lease, and she advises me to just fill in the name and forge the signature of the girl whose room I'm subletting. Alright.  Now to take the 2 U-Bahn's and wait in what is likely to be a 3 hour line, just to be told I am missing some piece of tissue paper that I was to have received in my acceptance package from Humboldt 4 months ago last Wednesday.  If I am successful, I will be given a PIECE OF PAPER saying I've adequately proved my proof of residency, within 2-3 weeks of course. With this, I can then go to the registration lady and provide her with this one requirement of many. Wow.

c) The next thing you need to register is proof of medical coverage. Alright, this I know I have.  See? RBC medical coverage, plan number, premium amount; I even have the policy coverage outlined and a great wallet-sized card that's nicely perforated at the bottom of my letter. Rad. 

Actually, not rad.

i) In Germany, foreign private health coverage isn't sufficient. You need to register with one of the German Health Insurance offices.  To do this, you need to go to one of 10 scattered around the city all with varying hours (and not opening and closing a few minutes different depending on the day... like Monday they open at 7 am, Tuesday 12, Wednesday 9, etc.),  take your private foreign insurance, wait in a line up, and get another form filled out which apparently says I waive my right to access the German coverage should I get sick, and elect to use my private one instead. Then they give me a form which I bring back to Humböldt and submit with my registration. Seems easy enough.

 Ok, so after all this is done, among a myriad of forms I actually had that were complete and satisfactory, I will be registered.  Excellent. So can I do all this and come back Thursday or Friday and submit my forms? Heavens, no. We are only open Tuesday and Thursday between 10-1, and then it is further divided by last name. W-O-W.  Perfect! So just to GET ONLINE I will need to wait until Tuesday. Okay, this isn't insurmountable. 

So I finally get a temporary student ID, which they would normally never give out until all forms have been submitted, but the registration lady takes pity on me. This, as you may have guessed, is a white piece of cardboard with some shit written in pen and a stamp on it. Really legit. 

 So alright, after I get my forms in (hopefully by Tuesday) can I finally receive a permanent student ID - get this, not card but PAPER - so I can get a wireless account? Dear me, no. That will take another week or two to process.

Now to register in Law classes.  If I still have your attention, indulge me as I recount this process.

In Germany, you check in with a man who I assume is similar to the dean of international students, and he provides you with a class list and schedule. Alright so I go and meet him on Monday morning, but he doesn't speak any English.  But of course he doesn't!  Thankfully his little hipster minion does. Ok, Andreas, gimmie the goods. Here in Germany, you broadly register, then you sit in on all the classes you think you might like to take, and then email the guy before May 9 and tell him what classes you would like to be in. I assume he then registers you in them. 

Then, you get a chart... yes, like a word perfect chart... and you fill in the details of the classes you chose.  Like in pencil or pen or crayon or whatever.  But be careful not to lose this random, loose piece of paper, as it is your official academic record. Huh? A chart? Get this: at the end of the semester, after you write your final, you hunt down your profs and get them to SIGN IN THE BOX saying you took the class, and they fill in your grade.

Um, seriously?

Actually?  A fucking chart, with a signature and grade on it? Really?  I am then to take said chart to Mr. P who enters it into what I can only assume is some sort of database or something and he prints me off a transcript. Whoa.

It's actually exhausting just recounting these details so I'm going to call it a day.  But just as the anecdotal icing on the cake, this morning it took me another 4 hours just to register in a German language course. Of course there was a line, of course I got lost in the labyrinth of hallways and buildings and streets and was late to wait in line. And of course it's super intensive at 10 hrs/week for the entire semester, and of course it conflicts with the one fucking class I was looking forward to taking. Oh, and to pay the fee, you NEED A GERMAN BANK ACCOUNT so you can wire, yes, WIRE, the funds to the Sprachenzentrum to complete your registration.  This is their chosen method of payment. 

I now understand why you can buy beer and cigarettes on the subway platforms.   One needs to absolutely numb their senses in order to try and do the simplest of tasks.  Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday and I can hit the floor at Watergate until 7 am to further numb my mind with the comforting sounds of heavy minimal German techno. 

The Berlin Whale

The first few posts are going to be backlogged, so this was written on Monday, but I'm just posting it now. 

First day of real life in Berlin. It was pretty good. My legs hurt and the jet-lag is far from gone, but the excitement of just being here was enough to sustain a full day. Got up and hit my favorite Kreuzberg patisserie for a baguette and coffee, navigated the cobblestone sidewalks in my thinly soled oxfords and hopped on the U-Bahn.  Got out on Unter den Linden which is basically the Candy Cane Lane of Berlin.  It starts up at my personal favorite Berlin landmark, the TV Tower in Alexanderplatz, and marches past all the heavy hitters: the Nazi book-burning piazza, Berliner Dom, Humböldt (of course), Deutch Guggenheim, innumerable war/social/cultural sites and a peppering of intimidating embassies.  The impressive boulevard spits you out at the Brandenberg Gate.  To the right is the Reichstag, left is the Jewish Memorial.  Prettttttty rad.

Walked through the university; past the walls covered in oil paintings of graduated Nobel Laureates, including Einstein. Yeah, you heard me. Einstein's alma matter is Humböldt.  Nutty.  Anyway, classes start tomorrow, so that will be intersting.  I am hoping they aren't too difficult. No one wants to actually work their last semester of law school, especially not on exchange.  Inshallah.

Oh dear mercy. America: Get Real.

Let me preface this discussion with the fact that I didn't even know who Adam Lambert was until last Monday when the internet erupted in all this VMA controversy stuff. I don't listen to pop music, I don't like pop music, and I generally don't give a shit about pop-music, its stars or its controversies. However, this one really got my goat. 

 I was listening to the Adam Lambert interview on CBC's Q my way to school this morning.  I  have been following the controversy since reading about it on the Monday morning blogosphere following the VMAs (I don't have a TV so am staunchly dedicated to internet blogs for my info). Many things about this “controversy” have rattled me, but I will only comment on one in particular here. 

Q's host, Jian Gomeshi, asked him about an article posted on the Huffington Post which indicted Lambert for doing more to harm gay rights and the gay community with this performance than help it.  I found this extremely troubling.

The author of the article said Lambert's flashy-glam brand of homosexuality was too overt and in-your-face to be accepted by everyday America;  that it undermined those homosexuals who go to work in suits everyday and work to support their families and are traditional and conservative and want the same rights as their heterosexual counterparts. 

Is the author saying that only homosexuals who mimic heterosexuality by having a family, living in suburbia and going to work everyday deserve to be sheltered from discrimination based on orientation? Doesn’t this exact mimicry do nothing for gay rights but reinforce the heteronormative standard we as a society perpetually uphold when we discriminate against certain brands of speech based solely on orientation? To say Lambert’s expression of his sexuality is “too gay” to be respected and protected does more harm to the international discourse on gay rights than his performance ever could have. 

This Huffington article, and more generally, arguments rooted in this same way of thinking, further muffle the homosexual voice as a means of sexual expression.  This narrow view of homosexuality does nothing but buttress the further discrimination of homosexuals everywhere, whether they are teachers, lawyers, electricians, children of NHL coaches or artists. We either protect speech or we don't... we can't start picking and choosing which gay expressions we are going to allow and which we aren't.  Especially when that decision is based solely on the idea that those expressions which make us most uncomfortable --  by challenging our heteronormative world view --  will be cast out of the protected sphere whereas those expressions that manifest simply in a nice pair of loafers or well tailored suit will be allowed. 

Highway to the Danger Zone

Switzerland’s recent referendum to potentially ban the construction of minarets on mosques elicited a deep response from me; but I am unsure what that response is. The campaign, led by The Swiss People’s Party and the Federal Democratic Movement, was rooted in a desire to quell the divisiveness the parties perceived the minarets as posing to the peaceful character of Swiss society.  The margin, 57.5% to 42.5%, is not underwhelming in what it says regarding the Swiss electorate’s opinion on this specific issue. [1]

 The international media have been abuzz since Sunday’s results indicting the Swiss as racist, intolerant and having deviated from their traditionally neutral, liberal roots.  However, I am not sure whether these results are indicative of the above noted fears, or of a socio-political climate that is simply trying to recalibrate its socio-political values. 

What is remarkable, though, is that the referendum is to pave the way for a constitutional amendment that would ban the further construction of minarets, which have been a major symbol of Islam for over a thousand years. What this says about the current state of Switzerland’s constitutional guarantees is unclear.  Ironically encouraging, however, is the way by which the Swiss have dealt with this issue.  Staunchly adhering to their traditional values as a liberal democratic state, the Swiss engaged the most direct form of democracy we have: referenda.

The Swiss have been unfalteringly neutral for the last 100 years. However, perhaps this democratic shift is an attempt at national self-preservation against the type of Islam that promotes violence in order to further Islam.  In instituting constitutional change, the Swiss are democratically taking steps to hedge against this form of zealotry (vis-à-vis a ban on new symbols of Islam within their country).  What is troubling, though, is how the Swiss have begun to see minarets as a political symbol, rather than a religious icon.  These terms, to me, are not interchangeable.

The posters used by the Swiss could easily qualify as socialist-style propaganda.  The image is of a woman in a Birka, standing in front of minarets emulating missiles piercing the red and white cross of the Swiss flag. Obvious in its connotations, advocates for this ban are setting up a false dichotomy for their compatriots: vote for this ban and help preserve Swiss neutrality, or vote against it and watch Switzerland fall prey to the terror tactics of militant Islam. It doesn’t seem this clear cut to me; I don’t know if I understand the two to be inextricably linked.

Having just returned from Germany and Denmark, I can’t help but note that perhaps Europe is not really as concerned with the freedom of religion and conscience we Canadians (and Americans) are.  European states seem to be more concerned with protecting atheism than religious expression. France is officially secular and other European countries seem similarly driven.  European constituents give the impression that they will faithfully immunize their societies against anything that threatens to create social or political tensions or controversies: peace at the cost of anything, including religious expression.

That being said, are Swiss voters unjustified in focusing on a group that may pose a threat to their society?  This is the unpopular question no one wants to pose because it may be misconstrued as suggesting intolerance. Swiss voters are obviously worried about their safety, the protection of their social values, and preservation of the Swiss way of life, whatever that may be.  Ultimately, this show of democratic solidarity says that the Swiss will not hesitate to do something about these fears, real or perceived.  

Nevertheless, this referendum feels like a feeble attempt to quell anxiety around the domestic growth of militant Islam, but may be more likely to increase tension within Switzerland than diminish it. So, good for the Swiss, I suppose.  Good for their citizenry for using the tools of democracy to effect constitutional change and voice their collective discomfort with the further permeation of Islamic mores into their social fabric.

Shouldn’t they be mindful, though, of the gradual erosion these types of political red herrings will have on the constitutional right to freedom of religion? Chipping away at any constitutional guarantee, even those masqueraded as an attempt to quell "the rise of political Islam", are unsettling as history continually repeats. It is never a good thing when one particular minority group is being targeted by the anxieties of the majority.  Perhaps there is something to be said for neutrality after all.

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[1] I take these figures from cbc.com, consulted November 30, 2009 and December 1, 2009, http://www.cbc.ca/world/story/2009/12/01/swizterland-minaret-un-turkey-ban.html.

Ramona Quimby, Age 26

I don't know if it's being in third year, the family stuff, living in gastown, not having friends close by or what, but lately I've been extra melancholic. And you know what that means: a distant tidal wave of depression is gaining momentum deep under the surface, waiting to crash against the newly structured shores of my psyche.

I suppose it's all of the above, my looming birthday (By the way, how can I possibly be turing 26?.... but I'm not where I wanted to be at 26!! Gad).

I am also growing skeptical of the "You are so lucky to be where you are! Good for you! What a great career you are going to have! You have it all, kid!" comments. Because what do they even mean? I don't feel that way! I don't feel accomplished, capable, or like I have the world by the tail at all. If anything, I have the world by the shoe horn.

And - ok fine I'll mention it - law. Ugh.

Law.

Shit.

I don't know why I have such disdain for the law. I mean I like it; I enjoy law school and stuff, but there is a block there. A serious block. After this summer I thought I would be right on par with the whole career thing and boom! everything I started to become ok with was gone. Now apathy has taken over where ambition once was and I find myself back in the old familiar patterns. Patterns like sleeping till noon, procrastinating till ten, eating at midnight and tossing until three; feeling sorry for myself, indulging in nostalgic strolls along the pages of old journals, scored to the despondent favorites of a younger me.

I can't help but appreciate the similarities, though, between this me and the Chutes Too Narrow me: still at angst, still restless, still unhappy with this ol' self. How can that be? I mean, really. I'm almost Anna M. Stuffco, Age 26, B.A., J.D., WTF!

Have I fallen short, then, of what those numbers and letters are supposed to bestow upon me? I guess I have. So ok, that's a). That's the first problem I have with the above.

Hold the phone.

I just realised what's so funny about that - I've actually let myself buy into this grandiose idea that those numbers and letters are supposed to mean something. Supposed to mean something to others, sure, but to me? Haha that's almost hilarious. In my own head, I am still that same old frump: too young, too slow, too different, too brown; not enough point, not enough brain, not enough concentration.

How is that possible. How could I possibly feel the exact same way I felt at 6 when the first pangs of self-consciousness set in and the awareness of "wait a minute, Charlie..." began to take root. That's just, like, some Benjamin Button's shit right there.

If you'll continue to allow me to indulge (btw- I am completely aware no one is reading this but sometimes speaking in the third person helps, like Jimmy) this brings me to my next problem with myself: what's with all the narcissistic, self-absorbed, egocentric blather that laps up my inane, self-effacing drivel? I really don't dig that I really don't dig myself sometimes. Like, get the fuck over it for Christsake!

I'm trying to be better about it all, I really am. I quit smoking, I am working out 4x/week regularly, and really, really trying to be better. And look... barley any swears today! Spoken like a true, privileged little shit.

But I just feel like I don't belong here, in this beautiful apartment, in this beautiful city, at this great law school, at this lovely computer, doing this; like there's a me in there waiting to burst out and be happy and love what I do and who I am. But that isn't going to happen today.  It's a long, tough haul... isn't it?

Isn't it.

What's the Deal with Kids?

Starting to get REALLY annoyed by all the shit regarding kids these days. Ya I know they are cute little narcissistic bundles of joy, but if I don't want to have any, can't that just be? Lemmie alone!

I always get that condescending, "Oh, I know you say that now sweetie but you will want kids. Just wait till you turn x, and you will change your mind."  If not spoken, then in the facial expressions of those more fortunate than I, who have experienced the ultimate blessing that is having a baby.

I might NOT change my mind. I am so sick of this idea that having a baby is what every woman ought to do. What if I'm sterile? What if I'm homosexual? What if I can't afford it? Yeah. What if. So that's amazing you have them, and want them, and talk about them all the time. I am thrilled for you. But does that ipso facto mean I need to have and want them?

Obviously not.

So I am happy to celebrate your choices, love your kids and share my life with your decisions. But save the fucking child talk. Please. Because frankly, I feel compelled to use my life right now to address more pressing issues than procreation. At least more pressing issues to me. And at the end of the day, isn't that what all this 21st-Century individualism, "be yourself, love yourself" bullshit is all about? Me?

Initial Election Thoughts

1) This election saw the lowest voter turnout in Canadian History. Before slamming Harper for calling an election that would only prove his government's parlimentary impotence, I think it is important to acknowledge the effect of the new voting rules and address/ identification rules which left many without their constitutionally guaranteed democratic voice. A number of friends lamented today an inability to cast a vote in their ridings because they had recently relocated to Vancouver or have changed addresses over the summer.

Students, those between jobs or locations, transients and the homeless are just a handful of voters who don't have the ID necessary to cast a ballot. I think what looks like high voter apathy can in part be blamed on these newly implemented rules which, below the surface, are perilously discriminatory.

2) I am also re-reading Succession re Reference of Quebec because I am angered by Quebec's clear show of support for the Bloc. This I find extremely distressing. I would encourage you all to read this as well if you are curious about the constitutional implications of the Bloc, and what separatism actually means.  Growing up in Alberta I suppose encumbered me to abhor, almost fear the Bloc; I don't know if that was because they represented a political virility Alberta could never mobilize or such anathema for us Anglophones that they wanted out of Canada.  It makes me nervous, these 49 seats.

Perhaps this is because they are an exclusive, French-only club that I am denied membership into. Or maybe, it is because I have secretly wished I was French all my life beginning with Immersion and later, a desire to wear the shiny red suits of Montreal Synchro.  Or maybe it just bothers me that Quebec has almost triple the seats we do and can mandate to topple to government and succeed, no matter what happens in the West. Perhaps, simply, it is because October 30, 1995 is a night that is branded into my national consciousness as one of extreme importance; a night when my family and I gathered around our Edmontonian, Anglophone T.V. and watched in fear as our country was almost torn apart. Awwww.  

I was reading a layman's bio on Mr. Gilles Duceppe at www.cbc.ca.  After watching his  post-election speech in which he reiterated the same seperatist jargon that defined his entire campaign, I couldn't believe how he kept referring to Quebec as a Nation: one that was under serious threat from Harper and the rest of us evil Anglophones.  Seriously? Man, the fear mongering in politics makes me not even want to care anymore. 

Anyway, I found this part of the bio particularly interesting:  "Duceppe has said he developed an early distaste for anglophones, even though his maternal grandfather... was British by birth.  Duceppe's English-speaking Grade 6 teacher slapped him for complaining when the French students had to stand in the aisles on a school bus, and he slapped her back" (www.cbc.ca/news/canadavotes/leadersparties/leaders-duceppe.html).  Sounds sorta similar to another left wing guy who wanted more liebensraum for his chosen people.

I kid, but you catch my drift. 

Correct me if I am wrong, but isn't that racist? Or linguistcisim? Certainly that type of unabashed intolerance for a cultural or linguistic group isn't condoned in Canada! I wonder what we would all say if that same distasteful condescension was directed at Catholics or Muslims.   Obvoiously, the speaker of such temerarious things would be thrown out of public office without thought. 

So why, then, is it 'acceptable' ( I would argue here, that it is unacceptable) for Mr. Duceppe to speak this way? Is it simply because Anglophones are the majority? Does this allowance by the Canadian Public mean ipso facto that racist or intolerant speech is perfectly acceptable, as long as it is aimed at the group with the most members?  If this is the case, Canadians need to recalibrate what we deem acceptable and chastise Mr. Duceppe for his callous and unfair attack on Anglophones. And what kills me, is that the Bloc Quebecois website is in FRENCH ONLY! What about all the Angloes in Quebec? Are they evil too? Come on now. 

 Follow the link below. It may shed some light on this infuriating issue.

http://www.canlii.org/en/ca/scc/doc/1998/1998canlii793/1998canlii793.pdf

Shackelton should have tried law

H.M.S.C Law
Journal Entry
Day #143:

Still shipwrecked.

Spent the entire day buried within the stacks of the library. Diving into books I never knew existed, only to discover I'd discovered nothing at all. My memo squeals with hunger for some Jurisprudential history, but oh, how I cannot feed it! Will resume mission tomorrow; ready to employ new hunting techniques which will hopefully prove more successful. Lead on some different bait that has worked for some of the other crew.

Tried to combat the unhealthy eating habits we acquire during periods of great stress. Packed a salad in lieu of chips and corn dog. Only to open my bag and have the room permeated by the smell of balsamic vinegar that had exploded within the lunch kit my mom so graciously gave me before setting sail to this, the open sea. Will continue to avoid scurvy, but not sure how long I can holdout for. Mission failed.

HMS vessels BCMHA and CCC s.672.1 seem to be too far ahead to catch. My peers seem to be coping much better than I; when we meet in said stacks I'm intimidated by their grasp of the law and how much progress they've made with hunting info and gathering cases. Feeling slightly discouraged. But will try new traps tomorrow.

Apparently, come spring, the ice will begin to crack so my ship can once again sail brilliantly in the wide open sea of logic, analysis and critical thinking. However. The prospect of a long and lonely winter looms before me; the only light which keeps me from cannibalism is the knowledge of HMSC Moot. For it is she that will once again spark my excitement and passion for the sea I so naively once called my home.

Beige: Is Bullshit.

Law school is bullshit. Total bullshit. It's elitist, it's pretentious (right up my alley! you say) it’s apparently the REAL ancient occupation (those prostitutes... always up in everybody's faces) and something I always knew I'd do. I'd TRY and do. Even if just to bolster my position at the Family Dinner after-party Jams with Uncle Ralph and Hoddie, I thought I'd be able to sink my teeth into it and giver hell. But being here, working to get here, paying oh... you know.... $120,000 to have 5 dumb letters after my name when it's all said and done, it's just so RETARDED! So so retarded.

I don't care about property. I don't care about offers and invitations to treat. I don't give a flying fuck about "big 'C' Constitutional" amendments and statutes and research and kissing ass to some arrogant jerk at a Large Firm Wine and Cheese in some horribly decorated ballroom at the Fairmont just so in 2 years he'll consider glancing over my sub-standard grades and remember that witty discourse on the rigmarole of Law School that I engaged him with and offer me an article.

"Don't worry, you are all here because you are the best of the best; the future of Canada. Oh, but PS- we mark on a curve and it's statistically impossible for more than 6% of you to achieve an A (the grades you are all used to getting which is why you are here in the first place) so don't worry about stressing over grades. Recalibrate your expectations to include B's and C's. But oh, yes, well, when applying for a FUCKING JOB in a year, the main component is your grades. So study hard!!" Jerks. What right C-U-Next-Tuesdays!

I know I'm smart enough, but am I? Am I REALLY? I'm pretty lazy and sorta dumb sometimes and always say retarded things and am over-opinionated and have a tendancy to be a little loquacious; sometimes I even misuse big words. I mean like really: do I even care? The problem is, everyone is feeling like this. All 194 of us that aren't getting the A's are all feeling like shit, everyday, commiserating in the interaction area (See? See this liberal west coast PLUR care and share bullshit I'm dealing with here?) Wondering how long we'd feel bad for if we just threw down and quit. Unfortunately, none of us overachieving ambitious young future law-makers and PMs have the balls, so we'll just rot in the concrete bunker hammering out junk until we finish. Actually, I can't decide what's worse: being a quitter or staying in something just to prove you can?

Don't freak out mom, I'm just feeling a little disenchanted right now.

Not Impressed

This is an article which was published in a monthly on "campus". It is imperative that you understand this publication has no ties to either the faculty of law nor the law students's society at UBC. Please read and think about whether this is a humourous poke at racial stereotypes and sheer unadulterated racism:

First, let’s drop pretenses and refer to them by the name God gave them, “Indians.” If it was good enough for Columbus it’s sure as hell good enough for this macaque. Let’s not forget that we still have an Indian Act and a Minister for Indian Affairs, so it’s OK to call them Indians in Constitutional class. They probably didn’t have names for them-selves before we got there anyway.

Second, don’t trust them. Don’t look them in the eyes, don’t let them in your house which you built on your land with your blood, sweat, and tears, and never give them a reason. You give them an inch and they take self-government. They don’t have thoughts and morals the way we do. Stay away from the wilds. You don’t want to be strangled for trespassing on some brute’s trap-line, whatever that is. “Unceded territory” is a way of describing land on which Indians spent centuries wandering around and not doing much in particular with. Why do they need so much space anyway? I live in a house with a front and back yard and a little garden for the missus, and that suits me just fine! Remem-ber, White, that you’re being educated on land rightfully worked and developed by your forefathers for God, Queen, and Coun-try, and we’re not going anywhere.

Finally, a band is a group of men of Euro-pean descent who play metal instruments, one of the many things Indians did not have. Any other interpretation is oral history.

- Anonymously published, Guerillaw News

In my feeble opinion, this is simply racist. As a Metis Law student, I was shocked when I read this. The Dean has sent out an email reassuring th entire student body and faculty that this is an unacceptable way to try and spur discourse on sensitive issues. I found the bit about the term "Indian" most interesting, as everyone knows Columbus was mistaken upon hitting North America and calling the Indigenous peoples he encountered "Indians." But perhaps that is the point: voicing grossly uninformed opinions and passing them off (comically?) as fact. Perhaps the students at UBC are simply too sensitive? Perhaps in our hyper-sensitive social climate, political correctness has gone so overboard it's caused a backlash.

All this aside, the piece simply misses the mark; whether it be to evoke emotion or anger or laughter or simply to be shocking, considering the geopolitical context in which it was distributed, I find it offensive. And not because I self-identify as Metis (JP insert objection here) or because I care about the social emancipation of Aboriginal peoples. Simply, because these sorts of articles do nothing to advocate change or facilitate informed discussion on these flummoxing issues. The systematic genocide endured by Aboriginal peoples isn't a laughing matter; neither is their gross over-representation in the criminal justice system, the wide-spread poverty and substance abuse problems which plague First Nations commuities on and off the Reserve nor the myriad of other disadvantages that come with being born an Aboriginal in Canada. I don't know. Maybe the tree-hugging-pot-smoking-yoga-practising-dredlock-liberal Vancouver air has gotten to me? Already: can it be? Discuss.

Vancouver = Good

After startlingly low circulation numbers I was forced to resign my post aka this shitty blog back in March. However, in an effort to avoid mass emails I've decided to start writing again on this ol thing; for someone with not much time on their hands it seems an easier way to communicate than writing 100 emails / day.

Vancouver is great. I actually don't hate it here as much as I had anticipated and am finding the weather very agreeable. Can weather be agreeable? Anyway was down at Wreck beach the other day and dispite the obvious reasons why I wouldn't have a gay old time I did surprisingly enjoy the beautiful ocean and reading my contracts textbook in the sand. The dude walking around selling beer and other herbal refreshments was also a refreshing sight. Don't worry mom I didn't have any money so didn't purchase anything.

Law school is rad so far. O Week was extremely taxing, physically and mentally. The days were long and the nights very short. I am not so much shocked as I am in disbelief at the amount you are required to drink and socialize here. Every single lunch hour and evening has been booked up for Dean's Lunches, McMillan Binch Mendelsohn BBQ's and sundry pub and bar nights- all with essentially mandatory ( "First year students are STRONGLY ENCOURAGED to attend: Remember, these people will be your furure employers and colleagues and it's important for you to start networking now! If you don't show up you will be subject to humilation by the upper years") attendance. And that quote is verbatim from my O Week package.

I am making loads of friends, some good some great, and have already had a party. It was well attended. I've also already had 3 house guests including Marian D. so have felt a little stratched thin as of late. The work is interesting and enjoyable. I am a neo-Luddite because I refuse to use a lap top in class. I may have to throw in the towel and buy a spinning jenny after all. David has been wonderful, he and Cory have treated me to their company, dinners and movies; it's been rad having such a close family member here. I am looking forward to really sinking my teeth into the material and trying to have the best year I can. I think that too is a verbatim O week quote. Shit.

So in short, Egypt is a nutty place. I will upload photos when I have time. At 20 million people, my sources tell me it is the world's most polluted city. I had a brief stomach issue for about 2 days, a spell that inculded cramps and pain, nothing else. I haven't yacked yet which, concidering my stomach problems, is a good thing.

The pyramids are more ominous and amazing than one can imagine. Unfortunately, they are surrounded by a sprawling urban area and garbage is EVERYWHERE. Not like a wrapper here and there, but literally shit and bags and bottles and trash swirling up around the steps of the pyramids and lining the entire perimeter. Very disheartening.

The Nile is also fucked. Concidering it was the life blood of this area for 10 thousand years and only in the last 200 has been rendered useless, seeing its grandeur is difficult in a modern context. Jered saw a dead donkey floating in it for 6 days before I came: enough said.

I will not speak of my observations of the Islamist Police State Egypt is currently governed by. We truly do have it good in Canada though. The men here stare at me and Ive only left the house in skinny jeans and T-shirts; no minis or even shorts and I still get just leered at. It makes me feel very angry and sad and uncomfortable all at once.

More later.

Going Minimal vs. Excess

So I'm trying to syphon through the endless possibilities of what to brink (read:wear) while on vacay in Egypt, Germany and London. I'm trying to go super minimal, like a tiny carry-on size bag that would make it way easier to travel around with. I recall being in London and France the last time I was there and having to haul a giant bag with only half wheels around the greater western European area. Navigating through Euston to Paddington to catch the Eurostar on the eve of a bank holiday, bogged down by a fucking 50 lbs. bag of shite really sucked. It f--ing totally sucked.

And I swore then and there that the next time I returned to Europe i would a) have enough $$ to NOT stay in Hostels and b) not have such a cumbersome, heavy bag. So I'm going really really light, like one pair of jeans, a few Ts a dress and like 8 pairs of shoes. Thoughts?

Meglomaniacal Anna

Who thinks I'm a meglomaniac?

Behind the Choclates and Flowers

This is an excerp from www.democracynow.org :
On Valentine's Day, chocolate is the currency in which people are supposed to trade their love. Little do they know that chocolate might have been made with slave labor. Along with flowers and jewelry, Valentine's Day is the holiday of chocolate. Lots of chocolate. Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, caramel-filled chocolate, chocolate hearts, chocolate kisses.

On Valentine's Day, chocolate is the currency in which people are supposed to trade their love. Little do they know that chocolate might have been made with slave labor. Over 40 percent of the world’s cocoa, the primary ingredient in chocolate, comes from West African nation of the Ivory Coast.

The State Department estimates that over one hundred thousand children in the Ivory Coast’s cocoa industry work under “the worst forms of child labor.” Some ten thousand children are victims of human trafficking or enslavement. These child workers labor for long, punishing hours, using dangerous tools and facing frequent exposure to dangerous pesticides as they travel great distances in the grueling heat. Those who labor as slaves must also suffer frequent beatings and other cruel treatment. While the Ivory Coast supplies more of the world's cocoa beans than anywhere else, Americans, for their part, are some of the world's biggest buyers ­ spending some $13 billion dollars a year on chocolate. And US chocolate manufacturers continue to purchase and reap profits from child labor.

Detroit. Germany. We so Elektro.

It's official: I've booked and paid and now all that's left is packing, saving and partying. Me and Jex Remixed are going to find the freshest jams in the most obscure enclaves of Berlin, Koln, Rotterdam, Amsterdam and London. I'll either come home insane or in a body bag. Stay tuned for updates.

And another thing...

Exhibit A: me and jezuit in the summer. Tanned and beautiful (especiall J-Dogg). Here, we resemble the images conjured by my fave of the homosexual sonnets:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

See? SEE? Eat dirt, S.A.D.!

XMAS is SAD

And by SAD I mean Season Affective Disorder, meaning I'm depressed 'cause I can't get no melatonin. It's hilarious that we think we can exist in this barren, frozen wasteland we call home. Shit doesen't grow, shit can't stay warm, shit doesen't start and shit don't get no exercise when it's -35! Like, WTF?? No wonder spray tans are so hot right now. Not only do you look like pale garbage in the winter, but your brain can't function and your body reacts by craving sweets and carbs. Well, just in time for "Christmas" I suppose.

Virile manliness Santa

Oh yeah. And the carol "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause" also really kills me.

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus Underneath the mistletoe last night.
She didn't see me creep Down the stairs to have a peep;
She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep.
Then, I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus Underneath his beard so snowy white;
Oh, what a laugh it would have been If Daddy had only seen Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.

I mean, really. The sexualisation of SANTA?! fuck. I'm not even going to bother posting further on the subject. Oh, and this photo is from the official White House Christmas decorations page. Weird.

Santa Sucks II

And one more thing: aren't we forgetting the reason for the season (did some 2nd rate politician named Stockwell Day coin that, or is it just something retarded he's likely say?)

Ok let's break it down:

1) Santa performs the Miracle of getting around the world in a night and giving presents to all the kiddies asleep in their beds.
Right. As far as I knew, it was JC that was rockin miracles back when Lazarus was on round 2 and the Jews were in desperate need of some Vino. This predates Santa by like, 1500 years and shows he was the original miracle man.

2) Santa is the moral benchmark of giving and selfless good will, so he brings all the presents.
OK, maybe JC wasn't big on presents (perhaps a whole body doesn't count as a present per se), but I always thought the reason people give stuff at Christmas was because those three dudes brought the little JC frankincense and Mhur, not because Santa employs slave labour to win the favour of simple little minds. Now am I right or am I right?

3) Santa has a rich history in St.Nick and promtes the north pole and Scandinavia
Well I like Jolly ol St.Nik. He's a rad dude. It's SANTA that I'm angry about. Red suited guy with reindeer and the fairy dust. You can't go check out his ice pad in the north pole. You just can't. At least there's a concensus that JC actually lived and you can go see where he walked around and touched stuff and sailed and ate and died. You just can't do that with Santa. And what about promotion of the middle East and the Jews? Just cause they're not nordics doesen't mean they shant be represented... (boo!)

Now I'm no Bible thumper. For serious. See love of nihilism, existentialism advanced misanthropic tendencies and Nietzsche for proof. But if you look at the facts, examine the historical evidence, and have some measure of heightened sensibilities, you'll come to the same conclusion as I have: when it comes to Christmas, if I'm going to have to pick some bearded guy I've never seen and no one else has ever seen to symbolize the season and ultimately buy into, it's gonna have to be the story of JC. It just is. I mean the red suit and the magic reindeer and the electric nose and the elves and Mrs. Klause and the letters and presents and commercialism and and the whole bit is just so over the top; so fisher price plastic America. Where's the humility? Where's the minimalist? Where's the "I'm cool because I'm cool so fuck you" in Santa?

I'm sure my mom will have a stern warning for me about this illustration.

Santa Sucks (but he's just SOO cute!)

I have been thinking a lot about Santa lately, and this is what I've realized:
- Santa is the opposite of 'The Christmas Spirit'
- Telling your kids Santa is real is the worst disservice you can do them
- Santa is a player *
*a discussion on this as portrayed by many carols depicting his virile manliness will be discussed further

It is just me, or is telling children that Santa exists a lie? A blatant, boldfaced deceit that parents, teachers, law enforcers, Canada Post and CNN all incubate with their insufferable (and costly) antics?

I find myself getting into arguments lately, of varying intensity, with EVERYONE about whether or not I had a cold, heartless childhood because I never "believed". Bitch, please. Free postage to a dude that lives in the North Pole and has a postal code like HOH OHO ??? And who's gonna give me stacks of presents made by slave elves, a list of which this letter will contain? I'm supposed to buy that junk in grade one and perpetuate it now, as an adult? Again: bitch, please.

So as someone with familial access to kids, I'm supposed to pay $4.95 to get them to call Santa in his sleigh, on the Sleigh Phone, up to four times on Christmas eve? You gotta check this shit out: http://www.claus.com/sleighphone/stream.html
And have Santy Clause tell them (because I'm displacing my fiduciary duty onto some machine) to 'get to bed in time so he can leave my present, and to make sure I don't peek or try to catch him?' W-O-W.

This illustrates what I have been sensing in society as plain ol' hypocrisy. The same hypocrisy politicians and the media have been hegemonicly employing for years, but now has been re-branded and reborn with a new image, sure to please the minivan majority. It looks like this:
I can't say hello to a little girl because her parents will no doubt think I'm a sexually deviant predator whose motives are completely rooted in evil, yet they buy this little girl toys and books and games which subliminally affirm and reaffirm her role as sexual object from before she can even speak. Allow this to manifest in the 'flirty girl' and 'Bratz' look-a-like outfits which don young girls at alarmingly younger ages, and dress her up in cute little knee socks and mini skirts and skank tanks before she is out of her diaper. Then freak out on me because I say hello to your slutty kid, when you're the one that's perpetuating the exact images which are vial and evil and put children at harm. Hmmm....

Lie to your kid about Santa coming to bring him presents, use Santa as a means of controlling your kid's adhd year round vis-a-vis empty threats to the effect of "Santa doesn't bring naughty kids toys" and then get mad at him when your kid isn't honest about whether or not he wrote FUCK YOU on the bathroom stall door. Hmmm....

Does anyone else see a glaring inconsistency here? I know it's disjointed and digressions are legion, but what I'm trying to say is that Santa's a jerk. And Santa nicely encapsulates all that I believe to be wrong with the world. So to cut it short, because my one reader (hi mom!) is getting weary, I am better for not believing in Santa because Santa is retarded, dumb, made up by coca-cola, disseminated by Disney and hallmark, banal, insufferable and totally whack. So forget you. Dissention is my middle name, and clearly, got its start at a young age.

*And that Christmas Carol called Santa Baby really gets me. So what: the mom is a big slut and gets up to screw Santy every Christmas Eve? Infront of the cookies her kids made and the presents from their other three dads and respective live-ins? Panty Baby, maybe. Sick, sick stuff, that santa klause and his mysterious sleigh.

Convocation for... Immaturity?

After convocating from University yesterday I have realized three major things:
1) getting a university degree in English and Philosophy is mentally taxing, difficult and extremely exhausting,
2) getting a university degree in English and Philosophy gives one an excuse to get bombed every weekend, make out with strangers and not have to act weird when you see them in class the next day, and
3) getting a university degree in English and Philosophy is useless.

I am the 5th person in my family to get a B.A. Nuts! I am already beginning to send out application packages for my next degree; masters programs, post-grads and other after degrees seem to be my only option. I do not lament this inescapable reality nor do I feel regret for choosing the program I did. My only stipulation is that our society does not value the educational process for what it was created to achieve. It is a corporation who is in the business of making money and churning out commodities that can be acquired to make more and churn out and trade, buy and sell more commodities.

Those with value are the BSc, BComm, BEd or even BNursing kids. A BA in anything, let alone Philosophy or Classics, is a source of amusement for the former bunch. Yet, oddly enough, it doesn't seem to matter that I am acquainted with the pre-Socratics, share an intimate relationship with Keats and Coleridge, can mull over Nietzsche month after month or use symbolic logic to dismantle arguments or flawed reasoning. All that seems to carry respect is the banal BComm.

My recalcitrance with the hegemonic norms of success and intelligence isn't from a place of malice or jealousy. It is simply from a pensive yet utterly pragmatic state of being, in which I acknowledge my little or no importance to the world of university grads.

Although I will go back and get another degree, perhaps even two, I do not regret for an instant my decision to become affectionately acquainted with, and well versed in, the canon of literature and philosophy I hope one day to become apart. It is the other lot which I pity; for their lack of historical knowledge only insulates them from the long and enriching histories of enlightened society. In the words of my brother in nihilism:

"To those human beings who are of any concern to me I wish suffering, desolation, sickness, ill-treatment, indignities - I wish that they should not remain unfamiliar with profound self-contempt, the torture of self-mistrust, the wretchedness of the vanquished: I have no pity for them, because I wish them the only thing that can prove today whether one is worth anything or not - that one endures."

(Nietzsche, The Will to Power, p 481)