Why be a starving writer when you could be a starving naked artist.

I am so sick of computers and everywhere they take us.

Being a writer means being married to your computer. Things are made worse if you are a published author because you also have long term commitments to social media and publishing sites. My almost one-year-old Dell is an evil wife. She has melted down twice in the short time we have been together; a RED FLAG if ever there was one. So why continue to put up with the daily torment of weak WiFi, boggy performance due to updates and background processes, and the general stupidity of the online world when there is little or no money in it?

I can do other things.

The real question is: What other things can I do which don’t involve computers? I could reinvent myself once again as a post modernist painter. I might use my initials to create a new artist identity: Ethan Alfonso? It has an artsy ring to it. I could add a hook as well: All Alfonso’s are painted in the nude. Post modernist erotic portraits of lonely housewives and  divorcées, painted by a still pretty hot naked guy, should get me laid more than writers do. The fee for such commissioned portraits would certainly exceed what I make as a writer; perhaps several times over. For a tiny initial investment—far less than book publishing—I could whip off a bunch of samples to lean against the walls of my apartment for prospective clients to peruse; perhaps over wine, if they are hot. I could sell some works beach-side while working on my tan. Once summer ends here, I can move into a spacious van and travel to various beach communities down South, chasing the warmth of the sun, and making Canadian winters something I don’t do anymore.

What’s the worst that could happen?

It’s possible I might be killed by a jealous husband, but this has always been my preferred check-out plan anyway.

Sounds like a worthwhile endeavour to me.

Where is that art supply store?

I’d Google it, but this hunk of junk Dell—soon to be ex wife—sucks harder than the vacuum of space during a hull breach on the Enterprise.

Bad breakup? Need closure? WTF, try an email.

woman and man sitting on brown wooden bench
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How to write the ultimate GO F-CK YOURSELF email to a cowardly ex who denies you closure by going into hiding.

Yeah, I wrote an email like this, and I would do it again if ever I am stupid enough to fall for another selfish narcissistic sociopath who refuses to make a call to end things properly.

Why do this?

It is simple really, you need to get the rage out, and this is infinitely better than burning their stuff in the backyard. The neighbors look at you even more weirdly than normal when you do such things. More importantly, this allows you to process their evil deeds, and the pain you are feeling through carefully chosen words when a long relationship ends horribly. In other words, this is one method of speeding up the recovery process when you have had enough of their bullshit. IT IS ALL ABOUT YOU and your wellbeing. Don’t be polite; they weren’t, and they will not suddenly start appreciating you if you take the high road now. It is time to sink to their level to get through to them. THEY BROUGHT THIS ON THEMSELVES. At times like this, it is not narcissism—it is a survival mechanism.

Essentially, we are aiming to hook them, call them out, and then crush them like the cockroaches they revealed themselves to be.

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To use this article as a template, ideally (and sadly) you would need to have experienced lies, deception, and betrayal which led to you ending a relationship. This is not about revenge. No, this goes deeper. This is about retribution which factors sin into its meaning.

The first line needs to grab their attention, and spark their curiosity so they will continue reading.

Don’t scare them off with a nasty first line; appeal to their humanity in case they have any. Aim to create guilt and remorse whether they are capable of feeling those or not. Go with something like:

Hey, remember me? The person you won’t talk to who. . . 

You then add a reasonable number of important things you did for them—the more life-altering the better.

In the next section, you want to point out why you felt compelled to write to them.

You want to subtly shift from continuing to pile on the guilt to pointing out how their spinelessness forced you to take this action.

I really thought you would step up and talk to me at least one final time. But no, as with every decision you make, you chose poorly once again. You probably will never tell me the whole truth to help me with closure, and even if you did, I would have a hard time believing any of what you might say.

This mild slap in the face will show them how low your opinion of them has become.

Next, remind them how you had noticed their suspicious behavior for some time, and then shift to the possible conclusions you have reached as a result of their lack of communication.

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You can get nasty here. It’s character assassination time. (Woohoo!) You could begin with questions:

Are you on drugs? Are you having a mid-life crisis of epic proportions? Did you fail to take your meds? Are you attempting to sleep your way into money and security rather than working for it? Were you dropped on your head as a baby? etc.

Personally, I prefer statements. You could begin with:

Now that I know the depths of your depravity and duplicity, I think the following are probable:

Your list can be “on the money” or you can take “creative liberties”. You get the idea. Have some fun with it, while making it clear what a loathsome piece of crap you now see them as. Also indicate how you will continue to believe all of these possible truths until such time as they explain their actions.

Add an image of how you now view them for a more dramatic effect.

You could (or perhaps should) go straight to a porn site for an impactful and distasteful image which exemplifies your view of them. Other possibilities might include images of various STDs from a medical book. I went with a less vulgar illustration myself, but it’s your call.

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Photo by Gratisography on Pexels.com

If they have made it this far, it is time to write your heart out.

Admit you weren’t perfect while driving the stakes in. Take a little responsibility while showing how minor your character flaws are when compared with theirs.

I always wanted what is best for you, and it was out of love and caring that. . .

Show how their behavior has left you pitying them. This, of course, presumes you truly know their history or pathology and were not lied to about everything.

It’s sad—so sad—you are incapable of true love and gratitude. I blame. . . 

Don’t be afraid to make unfavorable comparisons with your previous exes or especially people you know they dislike.

My other exes had some class and most knew at least a little of what is appropriate decent behavior. You are a total hypocrite. You slander [Insert name here.] while behaving even worse.

Dive into decency, morality, scruples, ethics. . . whatever you can sink your teeth into which best fits their behavior.

A soft warm up to your closing statements is next.

You could use a bulleted list.

  • I am sad for me for being duped.

If there are children involved, you could add:

  • I am sad for [Child’s name.] because he/she will most likely be raised by the likes of you two.
  • I am sad for your new significant other if you manage to get your claws into their heart, or on the keys to their house and vehicles, or worst of all, access to their bank accounts, insurance policies, and will.
  • And yes, I am sad for you as well, because despite all my efforts to repair the damage done to you, your ability or willingness to retain anything new is abysmal. You will continue on YOUR CHOSEN PATH, unconsciously following your base programming, and this trail will not lead to happiness. On the upside, I have finally figured out my fatal flaw. No one can fix you. Only you can do that, once you trade in self-obsession for self-awareness.

It’s important you leave them to the end of the list so it ties in with the big finish.

Enough of the body blows, it’s time to close with a throat punch because punching the heartless in the chest is pointless.

Here’s an idea for you:

At the end of most of my relationships, I would usually say farewell or good luck in your future. It would be disingenuous of me to say either of these to you because I know Karma is going to tear you a new one over what you have done. YOU ARE SO F-CKED!

I will just say goodbye.

Did it work?

In my case it did. I got most of the poison out. She confirmed the magnitude of her deception and offered up a lame apology. Regardless, it was enough for me to shed any residual affection and desire . . . allowing me to quickly move on to healthier greener pastures.

I can’t wait to see the comments on this post. I expect the miscreants to be outraged, and every person who has dealt with betrayal to love it. We will see.

 

Rationalizations: What to do when the Internet is down.

First thing this morning my neighbor sent a text to inform me the Internet is still down, but they claim to be working on it. Apparently a major cable was cut last evening leaving our entire area without service.

Thanks for the update., I thought to myself as I ran my morning self-diagnostics to see if I was fully functional before getting out of bed. I worked out yesterday so you never know. Out of HABIT I turned on my computer anyway and headed to the coffee-maker.

photo of coffee warmer pump jar filled with coffee
Photo by Georgi Petrov on Pexels.com

As I stood in the kitchen waiting for The Nectar Of Awakening (© 2019 E. A. Barker LOL), I pondered the importance of the Internet to him because he is a well-to-do guy who loves his toys. His home is run by Google and he likes his fully-automated lifestyle, and I don’t think he likes it when I speak of the potential for abuse of the users privacy. He only has his phone now. All that is good in his life has perished. Perhaps this is why he sent this out of character early text which woke me from some badly needed sleep.

Coffee in hand, I sat down on the couch and drank the entire over-sized first mug while staring blankly at the Windows start up screen. The only thought I can recall during this semi-conscious period was: They chose a nice shade of blue.

What will I do this morning? Maybe go for a walk? Too cold. Read? Eyes still too sleepy and brain not receptive to input. Write something? There it is. But what? We’ll wing it.

Anyone who reads my crap knows of my contempt for the Internet and my fervent belief that it is a mind control weapon employed against the oblivious masses in the final stages of our enslavement. Yet, it has also become a part of my ROUTINE to have my coffee while scrolling twitter and chatting with online friends.

It was not always this way. I remember having a satisfying life before all this book writing nonsense took over.

Here is an example of RATIONALIZATIONS running wild:

I RATIONALIZED this CHANGE IN MY BEHAVIOR by TELLING MYSELF this was necessary to launch and promote my book. I further RATIONALIZED I should continue promoting my work beyond the one year period I had originally planned for as there were still occasional requests for interviews and the like coming in. I continued my RATIONALIZATION to stay on social media because we were entering the peak selling season. That’s no time to quit. My latest RATIONALIZATION, after almost four years since I first appeared on social media, is I now have a handful of people whose words and thoughts I enjoy. It would be wrong to abandon them.

Or would it?

A flaw in my thinking just made itself known on mug three. I am PROJECTING my character traits onto them; people I have never met. I ass-u-me they share my values: morality; ethics; scruples; sense of decency etc., when in truth, I really have little hard evidence to support the mental picture of them I have created in my mind. It is hard enough to discover the TRUE NATURE of people we meet in real life, without compounding the problem by believing what we see or are told through an electronic medium.

Recent─all too public events─began with provocative hurtful posts which I could have been spared from seeing. I retaliated. That was wrong. The enraged are not in touch with rational thought. Things escalated from there into a tangled mess of unimagined proportions. If you witnessed any of it, my apologies. I now have first-hand knowledge of the gossips, spies, stalkers, trolls, and double agents we have all heard about when chatting about facebook dramas.

I am disgusted on many levels by many things, but mostly for allowing myself to be temporarily lowered into The Pit Of The Petty (© 2019 E. A. Barker LOL) where the worst parts of humanity reside.

Unchecked RATIONALIZATIONS can lead to DEMONIZATION or even DELUSION.

I am only guilty of the first two. I plead temporary insanity. I have and continue to work hard to be fully conscious and self-aware, and I pride myself on my ability to stay grounded in reality. This heightens your powers of perception so you can see things for what they are, and not how you would like them to be. However, this trait will not be considered endearing to anyone who lives in a fantasy world of imagined futures. Normally, I am so good at this people have called me a mind reader, or suggested I have them under surveillance, or even that I can predict the future. In truth, once you have really explored WHO YOU ARE and wrestled your demons into submission─with only occasional escape attempts─you are given a gift of heightened sensitivity which is composed mostly of sympathy, empathy, and compassion. Some call this being loving or caring; I just call them good people.

Humans like to think of themselves as complex creatures when in fact most human behavior is transparent and predictable to the few of us who bother to know ourselves. Once you know the best and worst you are capable of, and even though your self-control can slip at times, you can make shockingly accurate assessments of people as well as predictions of behavior and consequences.

To the superficial and narcissistic, life will always be a mysterious sequence of tragic events. They create petty RATIONALIZATIONS of their abhorrent behavior with statements like: “The heart wants what the heart wants.” or “We are only human.” or “They told me to do it.”. . .

Every single one of the seven billion souls on this planet are capable of moving beyond this most basic form of existence. I sincerely hope the readers of this will be some of those who do.

This was the second time I became embroiled in a facebook drama. There won’t be a third. Farewell facebook friends and followers. It was quite an experience which I can no longer RATIONALIZE.

Keep in touch by email if you like.

Dear Elites,

You know who you are . . .

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Photo by Vladislav Reshetnyak on Pexels.com

and so do we.

You are the 1%–the morally bereft industrialists, bankers, spiritual leaders, and mega-corp board members who view the world and its people as THINGS to be exploited and controlled. You are not likeable, but we labour not for the 50% we give to you, but for the remainder which allows us a few simple pleasures. You limit what we can know, and yet we still manage to find out more than you would like. YOUR scientists and politicians put on quite a show through YOUR media. They keep many of us spinning, but not all of us. Your arrogance has blinded you to a few simple truths.

We tolerate your presence among us because we crave security and peace of mind in our small work-a-day lives.

We see you destabilizing economies. We see your security states. We see how you cultivate conflicts. We see you attacking our Constitutions. We see you passing laws to benefit only yourselves. We see you feverishly working to divide us. We see you killing. We know you envisage a world without us, but we also know you cannot DO for yourselves. We know about many of your safe havens. Who do you think built them?

You need us . . . or at least some of us.

And herein lies your problem. NONE of your assets are maintenance free. Not a single one. If you examine each of them closely, you will see at least a small crew of work-a-day people who possess specialized skills and knowledge that you do not. Your architects, designers, builders, and landscapers create your dream, but they don’t maintain it. There are the lawn and garden people; the pool, sauna, and hot tub people; the chimney, fireplace, roof, and eves people; the security, cable, satellite, electronics, electrical, plumbing, and appliance people; the driveway, patio, helipad, and tennis court people . . . You get the idea, and this is just the tip of the iceberg.

You are surrounded by us and always will be.

We are the working class and you cannot maintain your lavish lifestyles without literally hundreds of us. You are reliant on each of us. We feign friendliness and loyalty, but never assume you can buy all of us. Each of us share a different morality than yours. We still feel sympathy and empathy towards our fellow humans despite your attempts to program these out of us on YOUR social media sites. Yes, we picked up on this too.

You are grossly outnumbered and scared of us. We get that.

Perhaps, it is time you consider how easy it would be for us to get to you if we were to be incensed by the loss of our friends and loved ones. You can vet us all you want–hand picking us–but there will always be one of us near you who is waiting for the right moment.

Sleep well.

Sincerely,

The Huddled Masses.

Lost in the Wilderness: Part 3

A “living the dream” in the North Country rant.

Do you know why most tall strong men are gentle giants? If we weren’t, there would be none of you mouthy little f-ckers left! It must be wonderful to be five-foot-six and sixty-five years of age or more, and be able to say anything to anyone without there being much of a chance of getting a badly needed wrap in the teeth.

Here is the background dirt I dismissed, AS I ALWAYS DO, as gossip. People who gossip are usually a waste of skin, but in this case they were relaying accurate information. I believe you should judge people by their actions rather than what you HEAR. Some people are trying to change and improve. I am someone who encourages those who SEEM to be making the attempt. I have hired ex-cons, reformed alcoholics, and former drug users, and some made the transition back to productive members of society. Some did not.

My former neighbor has a small horse farm he runs on a pension. He is a total country boy. He was born here and he will die here. He traps, hunts, has a vegetable garden, mills lumber, and slaughters his own livestock—a very self-sufficient guy. These are traits I admire. I have hired him on several projects and found him to be reliable and hard-working. I have been invited to his yearly barn party that was a very “rural” thing to do, while not really my thing. When he had a heart problem, I offered any assistance I could give.

I had heard alleged reports of spousal and animal abuse. A good friend said simply: “He’s an a–hole.”, though I never knew the reason. I do know he has children who never visit. I recall he was always grumpy, even twenty-five years ago when I first encountered him at a local bar’s pool table. He was a bad loser who would get angry and leave without uttering a word that might have gotten him knocked out. It was that kind of place.

He exhibited the classic Napoleon complex—possibly abused, probably picked on or bullied, and unhappy his entire life at the hand he was dealt.

A couple of years ago when he was stressed about his health issues, he had been snarly with me. I let it pass because he is much smaller and too old for someone like me to bother with.

Strike one called.

Recently, I introduced a young friend to our little Napoleon to get some chainsaw chains sharpened; bringing him still more business. A couple weeks later, the same young friend had brokered a house trailer sale between his client and Napoleon. His client, whose wife was in hospital with terminal cancer, asked us to retrieve some blankets from the trailer which had sentimental value so off we went to Napoleon’s to get the keys. When I asked if we could get the keys to retrieve some items, he flatly said NO. I asked if he was kidding to which he replied NO and told me to F-CK OFF as he closed the door on us.

We left, a little stunned by what had transpired. My young friend was enraged. I was still in a state of disbelief. My rage would bubble up later. I explained to my young friend that this little twerp would gladly involve the police were he to do anything, and any judge who saw the age and size difference would not rule in his favour.

I was the voice of reason for a change.

I, on the other hand, am only ten or so years younger than Napoleon, but would not consider pounding him into the ground like a tent peg for the same reasons. I explained he is likely a sociopath, and punching him out will not fix his condition.

Strike two called.

I know the readers were hoping for the strike three call to see what I would do, but we will ALL have to wait to find out. Even I am not sure what I might do. I may be writing that segment from a prison cell.

What do we do in our tolerant and overly-policed society with a provocative prick who uses his small size, age, and the law to run his mouth, and who is such a piece of shit that he would keep f-cking blankets from a dying cancer patient?

I got nuthin’.

WE CAN ONLY HOPE KARMA IS A REAL THING.

 

The FEAR Lessons: Part 1

EVIL WORDSMITHS ARE PREYING ON YOUR IMAGINATIONS!

‘FEAR leads to hate; HATE leads to anger; ANGER leads to the dark side.’ – paraphrasing George Lucas from his Star Wars movies.

I will be taking you on a long round-about journey with this blog series, but please stay with it, as there is a fascinating destination.

In this blog, I believe I EVENTUALLY managed to achieve a balanced discussion of some very hotly contested issues facing the West, but you must wade through some passionately written parts to get there.

I struggled with this blog and the potential ramifications of my own words.

I am FEARFUL my words, and the meaning of those words could be twisted by some to incite violence. As with most of what I write, the intent is to create awareness; to make busy often oblivious people stop and think. WHEN YOU WRITE PASSIONATELY, you sometimes cross a line or two (or three as I am known to do). There are professional considerations as well. I write these blogs as part of a publishing platform for a book that I hope to have published. I do not wish to be considered “a cowboy” writer. I also write these blogs as articles to pitch to a media I often have little respect for, but they pay some bills. Perhaps this is why our political leaders appear so wimpy and wishy-washy. Twenty years ago, I would not have given any of this a second thought. Perhaps I am FINALLY growing up. (Don’t bet on it.) It could be all the social conditioning about political correctness and responsible journalism is affecting me. (I doubt it.)

Should we speak from the heart and let the chips fall where they may, or should we temper our words to be less provocative?

As always, the readers can leave their comments on how I did.

For those of you who do not follow twitter, I have recently tweeted many times on the topic of fear. Young people use twitter and I want to reach them with this message.

The most significant to me was this one which summed the game up nicely:

“With greater understanding, there is less fear; ergo WITH TOTAL UNDERSTANDING THERE WOULD BE NO FEAR.”

The cultivation of fear, hate, and anger allow the masses to be more easily manipulated and maneuvered. The problem I have with the growing “global consciousness” is FEAR IS SPREAD FASTER THAN EVER BEFORE.

Canadians are working very hard at leading the world in the adaptation of the “tolerant society” concept. We are not always good at it but we are trying. There are people in this country who will test our resolve to be tolerant. They come in three forms: visitors, citizens, and people in public office. I will later demonstrate for all why testing the RESOLVE of the Canadian people is NOT A WISE MOVE ON YOUR PART.

A recent news event here left me both saddened and concerned.

Not so long ago, an UNARMED Canadian soldier was killed in a place of honor in Ottawa. This is the tragic part of this story. All Canadian’s hearts went out to his family and friends, as did my own.

The CANADIAN good for nothing f-cking piece of shit who did this was killed. I hope he died slowly and in severe pain after being shot in our Parliament building a short time after murdering our soldier.

YOU SEE, WE CANADIANS ARE NOT ALWAYS SO POLITE.

In fact we can be nasty when PUSHED and history proves this. We have the respect of much of the world as peace makers, but there is another side to us which needs to be understood and remembered by the readers who are not Canadian, and those whose educational systems did not tell them about us.

HOW TO DEFINE A CANADIAN:

The world has trouble with this. Our politicians have trouble with this. New Canadians have trouble with this. Our mainstream media has trouble with this.

We are a small country in terms of population. We are hugely OUTNUMBERED ten-fold by our neighboring countries like the U.S.A. and Russia. A country that does not understand a Canadian may think we are just pawns in the Soviet / U.S. chess match. They would be grossly mistaken. We have the respect of both of these peoples, and we are neighborly to both, but we back down from neither. In fact the Russian people and Canadians share a similar knowledge of hardship and resolve, and this is what created our common thread.

To your average Canadian, global politics is just not that important to us. We have more important things to attend to like working hard to feed our families. We are not isolationists, we invite everyone to come and stay, if they can handle it. We have a simple global outlook: if you do not bother us; WE WILL NOT BOTHER YOU.

As part of the British Commonwealth, we have a little bit of their “stiff upper lip” mentality coupled with a RESOLVE stemming from our fierce living and working conditions. We can relate well with the Irish, Scottish, and Welsh because they have tougher living conditions than English people. Most Canadians would happily trade our snowy winters for the rain and fog of England. You see, we do not have a sun-belt as our Southern neighbors do. We do not have a California, Florida, or Arizona but we like going to those places for a break.

It is tough where we live and it makes us tough: mentally, physically and emotionally.

We should never dominate any sport because of our limited funding and small population, BUT WE DO. This comes from a stubborn RESOLVE once we set out mind on an OBJECTIVE. It should also be noted we have a NATIONAL PRIDE that is best seen through our national pastime: hockey. It is a tough game for tough men. Our style of hockey is being watered down to accommodate growing interest in the game outside of Canada, but we are always a team NEVER TO BE UNDERESTIMATED. This Canadian national pride and stubborn resolve comes from HARDSHIP. We are survivors. We have a rich heritage of succeeding where others fear to tread.

The Swedes, thought to be the most physically fit lumberjacks in the world, were brought to Canada by large lumber companies to teach our Canadian boys a thing or two about hard work in the B.C. forests. It did not work out too well for them. They had trouble with the altitudes and insects, and took home a new found respect for those Crazy Canucks.

Our crime rate here is quite low, outside of drug and alcohol related incidents. Our sober assaults on each other are very infrequent compared to most countries. We turn the other cheek until we reach a breaking point and are FORCED INTO A CONFLICT. The reason is simple, once a Canadian is in this headspace, we are dangerous.

In World War One where my grandfather participated in trench warfare, 100,000 French soldiers were killed or wounded at Vimy Ridge. The Canadians were brought in after training specifically for the task of taking this important German-held position. The Canadian soldiers showed such incredible RESOLVE and feats of bravery in accomplishing their mission, that the French government gave that little piece of France to Canada forever. It seems these soldiers kept on ADVANCING when their officers were killed, and perhaps most bizarrely of all, when they ran out of bullets. Yes, there are true stories of Canadian soldiers charging machine-gun positions with bayonets.

There is another WW1 story that you should know: Flanders and the town of Passchendaele.

Imagine walking on a rain soaked muddy narrow dock with only one board every 16 inches carrying a 24 kilogram (or 53 pound) anchor, while machinegun bullets flew over your head and artillery shells fell all around, in the rain, with your clothes soaked with mud. If you slipped off the little dock, you would probably drown, not in water, but mud, and your pals were ORDERED not to help you. This was the reality of Allied soldiers who were there. Over 300,000 British, Australian and New Zealand casualties were recorded before the Canadians Corps would be called in. After 14 days of continuous battle, Canadians did what some thought was impossible, and paved the way for the allies to make a run into Belgium. Try to picture one million water-filled muddy shell holes in a one square mile area. Only the surface of the moon comes to my mind, but this was even more concentrated. 15,654 Canadian casualties were the cost of this victory. 1000 are still there in Flanders fields. A relatively small number when compared to the Allied losses, but a lot for a country with a small population of just under 8,000,000 at the time.

Other lesser known places that you should  be aware of are: Gravenstafel Ridge: 6064 casualties, Amiens: 9,074 casualties, and Canal Du Nord and Cambrai: 13,672 casualties. They were all success stories; Canadian victories; with a cost Canadians were willing to pay for IN THE NAME OF FREEDOM.

619,000 young men enlisted in the Canadian Expeditionary Force in WW1. 233,000 were casualties, or almost 37%, and almost 10% died in service to the British Throne and this country. No town or village across the entire country was unaffected by the losses.

Just 25 years later we would be at it again.

Within a month of Britain’s declaration of war with Germany in WW2, the Canadian Army would grow from 5,000 to 70,000 people; not men. We have a proud tradition of Servicewomen in this country going back more than 100 years.

Both of my parents served: my mother in the Royal Canadian Air Force, and my father in the Canadian Army Corps.

My mom outranked my dad and never let him forget it.

In World War Two, we Canadians again were the ones who did “the impossible”. A mountaintop fortress named Assoro in Italy had to be taken in order for allied troops to advance. Canadian soldiers climbed a 900 meter (or nearly 3000 foot) mountain to take this objective which would allow Canadians to have a high-ground position that led to a German retreat from the area.

My father landed on Juno Beach . . . one of the most heavily defended beaches of the five in the invasion of Normandy. “Stiff resistance” was overcome, and the Canadians were the ONLY unit of the five to achieve their Normandy landing objectives. Bad weather left those Canadian soldiers ADVANCING inland without tanks against the German’s 21rst Panzer Division. We ADVANCED anyhow.

Allied commanders would recognize the value of the Canadian Army, and would employ them as “SHOCK-TROOPS” in tough places throughout the war.

At Breskens Pocket, Canadians would again fight in mud . . . and win. In order to take the port of Antwerp, Canadians launched a frontal assault across the heavily defended Leopold Canal and got the job done.

An all too short time later In Korea, a Brigade of Canadians and Australians fought a delaying action with desperate defensive battles in a place called Kap Yong, while surrounded by an entire division of the Chinese army trying to take the city of Seoul. They stalled the advance, and won a U.S. Presidential Unit Citation; rarely given to non-U.S. forces.

So what was the point of this little foray into Canadian history?

IT IS TIME THAT A MESSAGE WAS SENT TO EVERY COUNTRY ON THE PLANET.

We are Canadians. We try to avoid a fight for as long as we can. We do not run from a fight. We are very good at fighting. We do not scare easily. We do not concern ourselves with THREAT LEVELS or PARANOID WATCH LISTS. If you show up here with bad intentions, we will beat you in the streets with hockey sticks if we have to. WE WILL ADVANCE ON YOUR POSITIONS AND YOU WILL LOSE.

While a Canadian will be the last person to start a conflict . . . we are best known for FINISHING THEM.

We are always OUTNUMBERED. We are used to that. In WW2 our kill ratio was 1:25 or one of ours for twenty-five of theirs. Additionally our capture ratio was 1:235 or one of ours to 235 of theirs.

Do not provoke us to test our RESOLVE.

You have NO IDEA who you are messing with. Do not judge us by our politicians and media; those are poor examples of real Canadians. Do not become an OBJECTIVE. We quickly and efficiently dispatch obstacles. Do not light a fuse that ignites our NATIONAL PRIDE as it will not end well for you.

A Canadian should NEVER BE UNDERESTIMATED.

We deal with HARDSHIP every day. A Canadian FORCED INTO CONFLICT is not the nice friendly person projected by our media. ADVANCING is in our nature. Retreating is not. The few times we have were usually a delaying tactic because we were outnumbered, and WE ALWAYS CAME BACK AND WON.

Canadians have paid a high price for FREEDOM. There is nothing we value more. ANYONE who messes with our freedom, whether foreign or DOMESTIC, is in for a nightmare. This includes our politicians. They should NEVER consider themselves impervious to the wrath of angry Canadians who are aware of the daily erosion of FREEDOM in this country. To understand the term SHOCK-TROOPS, think of it this way: If you think you are safe . . . THINK AGAIN.

Do yourself a favor and pick on someone you have a chance to actually terrorize. IT IS NOT US.

Now, let us circle back to the beginning where I said I was “both saddened and concerned.” My concern over this tragedy is what happened politically, and in the media, in the wake of the news item.

  • It was confirmed this was an attack by a single individual BORN IN CANADA. A “home-grown terrorist” on October 22, 2014.
  • We were told he had drug and mental issues from a reliable source: his mother.
  • We were told he had a long criminal record.
  • We were told he had converted to Islam in 2004.
  • We were told he had links to jihadists.
  • We were told he was KICKED OUT of a Sunni mosque in Vancouver.
  • We were told he was living in a homeless shelter in Ottawa.
  • We were told he was helped by two other men who wore suits.
  • We were told he was back on drugs three days before the attack.
  • His body was released (quietly) to be buried in Libya by his family.
  • It has been suggested, although not proved,  he received a blessing prior to this act of cowardice.

The President of the United States of America called (presumably) to express condolences and offer any assistance we might need. This made me scratch my head. Does our Prime Minister make such calls every time there is a school shooting by some drugged out mental loser in the States? I think not. Lots of innocents die down there on a regular basis.

SO, WHY DID THIS STORY GARNER INTERNATIONAL ATTENTION?

One innocent man died and one asshole got what he deserved. Yes, there was uncommon bravery involved in bringing the gunman down. We are Canadians. WE EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM OUR PEOPLE.

Was this asshole another Lee Harvey Oswald—a drugged patsy?

THERE WAS ANOTHER MORE RECENT PARALLEL EMERGING.

During the last Bush administration, South of the border, executive powers were granted after 9/11 IN THE NAME OF SECURITY to fight the war on terror, which led to us becoming aware of FEMA. The Federal Emergency Management Agency has been managed since by the then new U.S. Department of Homeland Security; both of which have EXTRAORDINARY POWER any time an imminent terrorist threat is declared; which is ALL THE TIME NOW.

Has our federal government used the event in Ottawa to help convince Canadians we are vulnerable to terrorism?

ABSOLUTELY.

Has our federal government used the event in Ottawa to help convince Canadians that bombing ISIS was the right thing to do?

ABSOLUTELY.

Opinion polls AFTER THE OTTAWA EVENT suggest 66% of Canadians are now in favor of a continued and prolonged effort.

THE THEN “UNPOPULAR” LEGISLATION WAS PASSED JUST 15 DAYS BEFORE THE OTTAWA INCIDENT.

Our defense minister said “ISIL constitutes a CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER to Canada and our allies.” The Harper government’s decision was not popular with Parliamentarians, nor was it popular with the Canadian public when it was first introduced. The “clear and present danger” cliché from a Hollywood movie, was a nice added touch though; it RESONATED in the Canadian psyche.

Anyone else feeling manipulated?

Has our federal government used the Ottawa event to launch its new SECURITY BILL just 5 days after the Ottawa incident?

ABSOLUTELY.

Has our federal government used the Ottawa event to attempt to give CSIS and law enforcement even more power to ABUSE in the name of SECURITY?

ABSOLUTELY.

Conspiracy theorists have even gone one step BEYOND WHAT I WANT TO BELIEVE, suggesting a soldiers life was sacrificed to accomplish the goals of the Harper government, and whoever is pulling his strings.

Let us get something straight here people; this was a tragic shooting incident, NOT A NUCLEAR DETONATION. Our response does not fit the crime nor the threat.

We are being sold FEAR and being asked to give up FREEDOM for SECURITY.

It is not a good trade.

To whoever is pulling the strings of North American politicians I say this:

Stick your THREAT LEVELS and WATCH LISTS where the sun never shines because they are not welcome here in Canada.

Spreading FEAR and PARANOIA will not work here like it has elsewhere because we Canadians DO NOT SCARE THAT EASILY. Until I see ISIS on the streets of a Canadian city, I will not be AFRAID. If it happens, I will get ANGRY and this broken-down old Canadian will lead a charge with a bayonet into a machine-gun emplacement, and WE WILL TAKE IT from the f-ckers. This is the Canadian way of solving problems.

When G. W. came looking for help with his war on terror, we passed. We had good sense then so WHAT HAS CHANGED? Leadership comes to mind.

My Grandfather FOUGHT for the freedom we are being asked to give up.

Both my parents FOUGHT for the freedom we are being asked to give up.

I am too old and broken to fight this with anything other than words, but I AM A CANADIAN and we do not like to be PUSHED! We will not tolerate being PUSHED by people outside this country nor will we tolerate being PUSHED by elected officials inside the country.

IT APPEARS POSSIBLE OUR FREEDOM IS BEING ATTACKED BY HOME-GROWN TERRORISTS WE CALL OUR GOVERNMENT LEADERS AND THEIR MEDIA.

Blogus-interuptus.

To be continued.

 

The first signs of spring: an intoxicated tirade?

Drinks on the deck!

I just had a large two-fingered scotch on the deck today. The temperature was fifteen degrees Celsius or almost sixty degrees Fahrenheit at lake level with a bit of wind.

Thirty-eight words in and I have used spell-check twice and a dictionary once. This does not bode well for the rest. Undoubtedly, my first attempt at impaired blogging will be a challenge so we will see how it goes from here.

I remember many years ago making recordings in my recording studio when the band was impaired. We thought we had “rocked out”, but the taped evidence reviewed the following day proved otherwise.

I can hear kids in a playground not far away. I just saw my first chipmunk. There are song birds again. I just came back from a long walk, and am rewarding myself for some achievement not yet apparent or accomplished.

My day was mixed with both failure and success; having lost an important paying gig, but also having very few issues with my ever expanding network of social media addicts.

It was a null day.

My twelve year old liquid friend and I sat out there for some time… mostly listening. Kids and birds aside, I noticed an ever-present high pitched whine or ringing in my head. I have not been near anything loud for some time, so I am not sure of its source or cause. It could be the universe down-loading these ideas into my head.

There is a damnable kid on a dirt bike interfering with the sanctity of my happy hour.

I think I will pour another.

The air is heavy with ozone. It is a Thursday afternoon. I do not typically touch “the stuff” until Friday evenings, so what is the deal?

I have had two verifiable concussions in my life to date; perhaps that explains the ringing. Perhaps it is a brain tumor, or perhaps it is just the result of an elevated heart rate from the exercise mixed with alcohol. I really do not care.

My back pain which has been nagging at me all week has magically disappeared, temporarily at least.

A friend just dropped by on his ATV to swap a few stories about vehicles, their manufacturers, emissions, the government, and run-ins with the law. It was a nice diversion.

I just processed a thought: just 200 more words and I’ll have a blog post.

Do I really have some unspoken warped sense of responsibility to put out a minimum of 500 words each week to a group of people who do not really know me, in order to garner some form of favor with some publisher that has yet to make their presence known?

I am having trouble spelling words, or at the very least, typing them.

If TV and movie stars can get into hot water by tweeting when they are impaired, then why can we not allow a relatively unknown author to write a blog in the same condition?

Who is he hurting?

An appropriate answer would be: himself, his reputation, his professional credibility, and the impeccable reputations of all “Indie Authors” around the world.

I don’t think so.

We writers, as a very large group, do not get noticed because WE ARE ALL TRYING SO DESPERATELY TO CONFORM to some theoretical ideal of what a writer should be, in order to gain the interest and APPROVAL of an agent or a major publishing house that in all likelihood will never read this crap anyway.

At 575 words, I have done my duty. Now 577- now 579. FYI, it is impossible to publish an accurate word count while continuing to write.

We authors should be celebrating and promoting our individuality.

I assure you that you will get the attention of publishers as a non-conformist. Have a sharp edge. Have a style. Be bad. Be special. Be different. Be unique. Be noticed. Be a ROCK STAR! I have known several throughout my life and I assure you there was not a single ORDINARY thing about them.

I am sure this blog will get me on a list of sites which are NOT KID FRIENDLY, and some code writing dork will be more than happy to keep this away from the impressionable minds of our youth. So be it.

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BAD PUBLICITY otherwise there would not be thousands of pictures of nude actresses on the internet that, “coincidentally”, are “leaked” just prior to their film release.

Hemingway, Joyce, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Poe, Williams, Chandler wrote under the influence fulltime and they still sold books, so I should be forgiven for my minor lapse. Besides, it could be worse, I could have followed in the footsteps of writers like: Cocteau who did Opium, King who did Cocaine, Dick who did Speed, Burroughs who did Heroine, Kerouac who did Benzedrine, Stevenson who did Cocaine, and Thompson who did Acid.

I would like to thank the unofficial sponsor of this blog: George & J. G. Smith Ltd. makers of The Glenlivet and other fine products.

I see an endorsement deal in my future.