Random thoughts

Has Frito Lay considered suing Trump for infringing their intellectual property? Surely the makers of Cheetos has trademarked that shade of orange.

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I find the best music to listen to while running is from the late 70s/early 80s. XTC, The Police, Devo, Talking Heads, Prince, Peter Gabriel, or some harder rock, like Motörhead, Judas Priest and even Rush. Hard rock of an era is best when lifting weights. Metallica, RATM, Iron Maiden. I love prog rock, but there are too many time changes to make it useful for workouts.

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Some potential theme songs for the resistance movement in the Fractured States of Trumpistan:

The Police – Rehumanize Yourself
Rush – Between the Wheels
Living Colour – Cult of Personality
Ice T & Jello Biafra – Shut Up, Be Happy
Babes In Toyland – Swamp Pussy
Public Enemy – Fight the Power
(Yes, these do show my age.)

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Would it count as cruelty if you chloroformed your cat? Asking for a friend. Seriously, though, wouldn’t self defence be a reasonable argument?

Literacy, culture and tartar sauce

A news story today says a strata in Vancouver’s tony Coal Harbour neighbourhood has vetoed the lease of a commercial space in their building in part because the name of the restaurant that was set to open there contained an ‘offensive’ word. Moby Dick Fish & Chips has operated in Whiterock, about a half hour south of Vancouver, for several years, apparently without anyone thinking they were serving whale rather than fish, or finding the name offensive. Equally apparent is that the strata corporation and its lawyers have neither read nor heard of Herman Melville’s classic novel, from which the fish & chip shop has inexplicably taken its name. (It’s doubtful the owners of the shop have read it either, for that matter. It’s not a cheerful book.)

Now, you don’t have to like Moby Dick, or Melville for that matter, to know something about the story. Or at least, so I thought. In fact, I didn’t think you even needed to be particularly well-read (or well-educated). The tale of Captain Ahab’s obsessive quest for the great white whale had, I thought, become woven into common cultural fabric of North America, if not the entire English-speaking world. And perhaps it has.

There has been a raging debate in Vancouver over the past several years about the extent to which foreign buyers have affected the local real estate market. Coal Harbour has often been held up as an example – in particular the proportion of expensive condos whose owners seem rarely to be at home. I don’t want to get into that debate here. I think the about-face of the real estate association in the aftermath of the likely misguided ‘Foreign Buyers Tax’ introduced hurriedly last summer has more or less settled that matter. The interesting thing to me is that nearly half of the lower mainland’s residents (or at least of its home owners) come from different cultural backgrounds now, such that we can no longer assume common cultural currency.

This is not a one-way street, and I am not bemoaning the presence or influence of immigrants, like some loopy Trumper or Brexiter. (Or some people running to lead the Conservative Party of Canada – but let’s leave that aside for now.) Just as I cannot assume that everyone I speak to (or who reads this blog) will understand references to Moby Dick – or Hamlet, or Huckleberry Finn, or Beatles songs, or Star Wars – neither can others expect me to understand their cultural markers. What do I know about Chinese literature, South American film stars, K-pop, or even Sikhism?

Being honest, North Americans – by which, since we’re being honest, means those of us of European decent – have not even made an attempt to understand the rich and diverse cultures of the peoples we stole the land from in the first place, whose descendants still live here. We’ve made little to no attempt to understand the ‘minority’ cultures in our midst, and who we generally ignore until they begin to ignore us back, rather than trying to fit in, which we find especially galling if some of them are really rich.

My advice to the restaurant owner is: change your name. Anyone who has read the book will find it puzzzling at best anyway, and it apparently offends those who know some of the language but none of the literature of English-speaking North America. Oh, and maybe avoid literary references altogether. The Old Man and the Sea? Great book, depressing as hell. Spoiler alert – he loses the fish.

Playing the Trump card

Many years ago, an American rabbi published what would become a self-help bestseller called When Bad Things Happen to Good People. The book was intended to help people get past unfortunate events in their lives, and not become defined by those events. Right now, I think what is needed is a book called When Good People Do Bad Things. The purpose of this book would be to explain how ordinarily good people brought themselves to vote for Donald Trump.

The inauguration of that lumpen orange narcissist is only a little over a week away. All over the world (with the possible exception of Russia), people are asking how this could happen. How could any sane, halfway moral person justify to himorherself the notion of ‘President Trump.’

Now, I will grant you, Hillary was hardly the best choice of candidate for the democrats, or any other party for that matter. I would much rather have seen Bernie or Biden, myself. Or any number of women. Gender is not the reason I didn’t particularly like Hillary. Neither were emails or Benghazi, or any of the muck the republicans tried to throw at her. I didn’t like Bill that much, either, although it had nothing to do with Monica, and everything to do with economic policy. And it was, again, economics, and the sense that both the DNC and Hillary herself thought ‘it was her turn’, that made me prefer other options to the former Secretary of State.

Having said that, I would have preferred the election of nearly anyone – even the return of George W. Bush, never mind little Jeb – to the smirking misogynist about to occupy the Oval Office. (And I definitely would have preferred Hillary to either Bush.) The only person in the running who may have been as unfit for office as Trump was Ted Cruz, thankfully now a political has-been.

So how did they do it? Ordinary middle Americans. Salt of the earth types. Church and BBQ types. People who I wouldn’t have expected to cros the street to spit on a New York billionaire. How did they bring themselves to vote for such a creep? Such an obviously crazy, frequently bankrupt, don’t leave him alone with your daughter or your savings account creep.

A lot of people say it was racism, and I don’t doubt there was some of that. Too many confederate flags at Trump rallies, too many swastikas painted on walls since the election, to think otherwise. But I don’t think racism could possibly have motivated that many voters.

Some others say it was about economics. Not that anyone, including Trump voters, believe he has an economic plan at all, never mind a good one. But that the economy that has been foisted on Americans, and that has taken their jobs, their homes and, worse, their dignity over the past 37 years, if not longer, had finally made them stand up and say, ‘no more.’ There may be something to that.

The so-called ‘left’ in America bailed out banks while they foreclosed on families. They bragged about economic recovery, even as the divide between rich and poor grew, and careers you could support a family with were replace with jobs with low pay and no security. Or with no jobs at all.

Anyway, I look forward to an explanation that isn’t too easy, or too comfortable for those who lost. I hope America – and France, the Netherlands, Germany, and Britain, too – gets its act together before it’s too late.

That was easy!

Does anyone else remember, waaaaaaaay back (well, a couple of years ago) when our premier trotted out her “five conditions” for pipelines carrying bitumen from the Alberta oil sands to our coast? What were they, now? Oh, right:

  1. National Energy Board approval (tough one, that)
  2. World leading (whatever that means) land-based spill detection and response
  3. World leading (as above) marine spill detection and response
  4. A hefty piece of the action for B.C.
  5. Aboriginal buy-off. I mean, in. Buy-in. Sorry about that.

Supposedly, the Kinder Morgan, TransMountain pipeline expansion, which will triple the amount of basically raw bitumen being shipped through Burrard Inlet and Vancouver Harbour, has now met those conditions. More or less. In a manner of speaking.

It was a no-brainer then, and requires none still, to see that approval was inevitable. NEB approval was a foregone conclusion. “World leading” is pretty meaningless, since it isn’t defined at all. So there are two conditions that are pretty much entirely subjective. How much of a cut did B.C. need? Apparently not a very big one. Under $50M a year. Less than some soccer players make. And as for First Nations… Let’s get serious. When was the last time one of our premiers cared about them, except as ornamentation, or in this case a bargaining chip?

So, B.C. coastal communities – and our environment – have been sold down the river, so to speak, by two Liberal leaders (one federal, one provincial) in the past six weeks. Does anyone need more proof that “liberal” does not mean “progressive” in this country?

In vino veritas

For those who don’t know, that’s an old Roman proverb that translates as “in wine, there is truth.”

I’ve been a beer drinker for most of my adult life, and I still love good ales. Hoppy ales, stout ales, pale or red ales. I have the body of a true beer drinker: who wants a six pack when you can have a keg?

I’m also fond of whisky, and of whiskey, too. Gin, tequila, absinthe. Really, anything that isn’t bourbon or vodka.

And no, I’m not an alcoholic. I don’t drink everyday. It’s years since I drank to the point of passing out, or woke up hung over. I prefer quality to quantity. Unfortunately, quality can be just as expensive. The price of single malt or a good tequila is not for the faint of wallet.

Tonight, though, we are drinking wine. It’s the only thing Adele drinks (and only red for her, at that). On a price per volume basis, wine is a better deal than scotch, but pricier than beer. Especially here in B.C., where our provincial government seems intent on taxing us into temperance.

I’m not sure why governments feel it is their duty to protect us from ourselves in this way. The same impulse keeps pubs out of neighbourhoods here, and that likely has increased the rate of impaired driving in B.C. more than anything over the years. After all, if I can walk to and stumble from my destination, the car will likely stay in the garage.

Governments generally find it easier to regulate individuals than companies, even though a very good case can be made that the opposite should be the rule rather than the exception. Too often regulators, at least in Canada, seem to feel it is their duty to protect industries from the public. The CRTC and the National Energy Board are the best examples of this. One assumes they have taken their direction on this from the governments who appoint them. It makes you wonder whose interests these governments are really representing. Or it would, if you didn’t already know.