Climate Crisis Strikes

How asleep we must be to need children to wake us.

Bless Greta Thunberg and our lesser known Canadian activist Autumn Peltier for somehow managing to accomplish what adult activists only wish they could.

I’ve spent the better part of five years attempting to awaken the sleeping masses to a number of very real concerns without success. I even wrote a book which I hoped would get parents and young adults thinking about big picture issues. It did not fly because nonfiction must either be written by a PHD or a celebrity for it to have any value in the publishing world. David Suzuki has the whole package and yet the masses, politicians, and corporations somehow continue to ignore his words as well, despite the fact he has won awards, written 87 books, and has been talking about all this for about 60 years.

If David Suzuki couldn’t stop the insanity, I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on myself for failing miserably as well.

He was a participant in what I call the golden age of activism: the 1960’s and seventies which laid the groundwork for the equal rights and equal opportunities which we enjoy today. This same generation also taught the American government that high body counts and collateral damage in their endless conflicts would not be tolerated.

Why is it that environmentalists were not as impactful?

Oh sure, various anti-pollution measures were a direct result, as was the green movement, but these were not enough to save today’s young people from what is to come in their lifetimes. Sadly, it takes a crisis with an impending disaster before people will get off their asses and do something about it. We all should know what was going on in the American South in the sixties, unless our education systems have completely failed. There was a public outcry and outrage; the only things politicians worry about.

Where did all the hippies go and why aren’t we living in a loving, clean, sustainable Utopian world fifty years later?

Some “dropped out”; many joined “the establishment”, but most ended up working for “the man” absorbed by society: having babies, buying houses and cars. . . leading busy productive successful lives—living the unsustainable consumerism dream.

Their grandchildren are doing it all again.

Hopefully, these so-called kids will get it right by seeing how we all failed.

You go, girls.

P.S. If you have any advice for me or David, we’re all ears.

Friday the 13th with a Full Harvest Moon is the perfect time to blog nonsense.

I believe next to nothing. However, I am open-minded enough to consider ANY possibility to establish its probability.

I have looked lizard people square in their dead eyes. They don’t like that. They know you know, and they would prefer no one knows of there existence; particularly people who might out them, like me.

Are they human?

They are born in human form and have a human lifespan, but they are devoid of many of our better “human” qualities. When examined solely with medical diagnostic technologies, they appear quite human, complete with susceptibility to injury and disease, just like us.

How do they differ from real humans?

If you believe in such things, you would describe them as soulless: only able to feign caring, compassion, love, sympathy, and empathy while being completely baffled by human traits like: giving, gratitude, and self-sacrifice. In their view, they believe themselves superior because they lack these human burdens plaguing the rest of us. While we lose much time being fully human dealing with all these feelings, they can maintain focus on their goals, achieving above average success.

Where do you find them?

They were created for the patriarchy’s economic machine. They are the administrators, evaluators, and the judges who, if their track record proves them to be free of morality, scrupulousness, and ethical constraints, will rise to the level of policy-maker occupying a chair in a board room somewhere around the globe.

What do they do?

Yeah, I admit that last one has tin hat time written all over it until you ask the question:

Why is the World Bank interested in birth registration?

How does it profit them?

They are not known for altruism, despite what their propaganda machine’s press releases might want you to believe. Here is a sample from the link above:

“The international development community is increasingly recognizing the multifold advantages of expanding birth registration coverage. When the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) were adopted last year, they introduced a new agenda for the field of development and birth registration for all became a specific development target. What is more, the World Bank went on to argue that “providing robust means of identification,” such as birth certificates, “will fundamentally support the achievement of at least 10 other SDGs,” in areas such as social protection, women’s empowerment, health, and even fighting terrorism.”

The international development community, huh. I’d be very interested to see who is on this list.

Sustainable Development Goals, huh. This is my question:

Sustaining the development of what for whom?

Before we encourage our children to join the so-called honourable professional ranks listed above, perhaps we should rethink the alter we’ve been worshipping.

 

Leaving is never easy, even if it’s only Facebook.

I do feel lighter though.

It’s no secret I despise the flawed technology everyone else seems fine with. Even while writing this blog I had to deal with a sketchy Internet connection which wasted the better part of an hour of my life; an hour I cannot get back as with all the hours spent online doing what we authors are told is necessary.

This Sunday I will be pulling the plug on facebook forever; not merely deactivating—not just taking a break—but deleting my account.

Why would an author or writer ever do this when “experts” tell us we should be on social media to create a following which may lead to people reading our blogs who then might decide to buy our books? Should, may, and might are words used by politicians and other con-men to dupe the unsuspecting, the uninformed, and the gullible. I am none of those any longer. I did however willingly join in the lie of social media five years ago, and stayed two years longer than I planned. Perhaps this was out of a false sense of loyalty to relative strangers on the Internet, or it’s possible I’m more of an egotist than I thought. Maybe solitude finally got to me? Nah. I’ll let you know if and when I figure it out.

Many of the people I’m leaving behind were kind and supportive and they have all been thanked for their encouragement along the way.

Some shared my warped sense of humour and we had some laughs. These people will be missed. Just like childhood friends, former co-workers, or old neighbours, they are genuine when they say you will be missed, but they will get busy with their lives and soon forget about you. It is the way of things.

I have been a harsh critic of social media and facebook a.k.a fakebook a.k.a. flakebook in particular, for its practices i.e. privacy, data collection, and mental conditioning algorithms. I realize now my preaching abstinence there was as effective as a priest giving a sermon on morality in a whorehouse.

It felt hypocritical and it’s time to cut the cord.

I hope my remaining facebook friends, who might stumble across this, find the peace and joy I once had and am attempting to get back in touch with again.

I wish you well.

Five Long Years

The fall of Western civilization can be charted by the declining number of book readers.

Yesterday was National Book Lovers Day, and on social media it came in like a lamb and went out with a whimper. On twitter, it never made Trending status in the many hours I was on which says a great deal about where everyone’s heads are these days. As expected, facebook and the mainstream media ignored it completely. Why? The answer is a simple one.

Readers a.k.a. thinking people, are dangerous to the rising regime.

“Book Lovers Day is celebrated on August 9 every year. This is an unofficial holiday observed to encourage bibliophiles celebrate reading and literature. People are advised to put away their smartphones and every possible technological distraction and pick up a book to read.” Wikipedia

I did my bit by contributing a half dozen tweets which were repeated on my facebook page that, not surprisingly, ranged from serious to amusing. Most saw no engagement. Yes some genuine book lovers tweeted, as well as some booksellers, but this was an opportunity missed by almost every author, publisher, educator, and library I know and about a million others I don’t.

We all talk a good game when discussing the importance of reading in America, but when it comes to actively doing something collectively about the problem, we fall flat.

Changing how we parent, educate, treat the environment, allow ourselves to be governed. . . all have become political, and this is why intelligent people no longer participate in these discussions. The prevailing rampant stupidity in politics has silenced the majority who need to speak out and be heard.

I thought book people would be different.

I know many are introverted. I also know they are smart. Why is it they do not realize their apathy endangers their beloved books. Here’s how the world works, kids:

If you are not fighting for it, they will take it away.

 

Bureaucrazy

The only business that has never seen a downturn is government.

Public servants my ass!

Government employees are a special kind of crazy—similar to academics—in that they are completely incapable of functioning in the real world.

You need only look at a ditch digging project where the white and blue hats outnumber the yellow hats—the only ones with tools—to see how far removed from reality they have become. Collectively, one blue hat, two white hats, and three yellow hats are costing the taxpayers about $350.00 per hour as they stand around talking while looking at the ditch.

two man holding white paper

Productivity and efficiency mean nothing to these people.

None are motivated to work hard or to get the job finished as fast and cost effectively as possible. Their jobs are secure for as long as they want them, and a significant pension awaits when they have had enough. In addition to their generous top-of-scale salaries, they and their families enjoy complete short and long-term disability insurance, medical, drug, and dental plans. . . all paid for by the taxpayers.

The blue and white hats decide to have lunch to discuss the hole in the ground further so they jump into three separate government vehicles which they pay nothing for, and they expense their two-hour $120.00 bistro “business lunch” back to the taxpayer. In a bizarre rationalization, they consider themselves to be taxpayers because they pay taxes, so they feel entitled to such expenses. To them, it is as though they are paying for their own lunch. With only an hour or so left in their workday, they all head home early to beat traffic.

Meanwhile in the real world. . .

Somewhere out there right now is a young guy with a family to support, driving a ten year-old pickup truck which he bought; paid to licence; pays insurance on; pays to maintain; pays to put fuel in, and who also bought the pick and shovels in the back with his own money.

yellow pick up truck on grey concrete road

He is digging a hole too.

He estimates one hard day of ditch-digging should get the job done. His hands will be blistered and his back will be sore come lunchtime when he gets to eat his brown-bagged mid-day meal, lovingly made by his wife from last night’s dinner leftovers. On completion, the customer, which he had to find by making calls and sending emails each night after work, will pay him $200.00 for a day’s work. He will set aside 30% for income tax; 11% for business taxes, and 20% to keep his business operating. He and his family will attempt to live and build a secure future on the remaining $78.00. He worries about how long he can keep up this pace. Last month’s dental bill for the kids wiped out their savings. Regular dental checkups for himself had to be shelved in favour of keeping up with his workers compensation insurance payments.

He has been called the backbone of America.

Sadly, this hypothetical taxpayer’s back only lasted into his forties. He called up the government-run workers compensation department for help when doctors said he could not return to his job. The bureaucracy seized the opportunity to kick him when he was down. To them, with every denial and penny-pinching move they were saving the government money while simultaneously justifying their own continued employment within the bureaucracy. They do not acknowledge who pays the government they work for. ‘Claimants are the enemy. We are not accountable to the taxpaying general public.’

These bureaucrats had the audacity to question HIS integrity.

They are oblivious to the hypocrisy which is all around them. They even went so far as to accuse him of being a scammer before finally sending $680.00 each month.

Pull your heads out of your asses America.

This level of inequity is not sustainable.

I’m Easy!

It’s true.

Thanks to the SEO work I do when publishing each blog, I will be forever searchable using tags like: easy author, easy writer, and a few others I haven’t thought of yet. When a female reader comes along, I cannot help but crush on them a little. If they are reading my book, I can feel my heart beating in my chest as they give me their impression of my work. Often, they update me as they read—a blow by blow if you will—every encouraging word softly stoking my psyche.

It’s not that I’m an egotist.

Praising a writer is like showing love to an abused animal; they quickly return that love any way they can, and it’s an honest loyal kind of love . . . until the leg humping begins.

As for the extra special ones who took the time to write a favourable review. . . well . . . they could have me with a snap of their fingers.

When Will We Get It?

Most days I root for humanity . . . some days I root for space rocks.

If you enjoy reading about patriarchy and the puppet masters, you are in the right place.

In my storied online “career” (?), I was a good, not so little, author who played nice in the early years. I “friended” and/or followed approximately 10,000 people, sites, and pages because that was what we were told was necessary to promote our books and build a platform to launch us. However, as I delved deeper into the publishing world, I found out it was all a sham to keep us busy, and, most importantly of all, to keep us blowing money. Now, after five years and spending months cleaning out my social media accounts, I have about 300 interesting “friends” and follow about 300 others.

Some of the people I axed were butt-hurt.

If they were true supporters, they were given my reasons, but most were people who never engaged in all the years I kept them around. This idea of “friending” or “following” just to have impressive numbers is laughable, and anything but social.

My new antisocial media program is simple.

If I am ever to make enough time to write seriously again, social media has to go—except twitter—I love my twitter in the mornings over coffee, and I can “misbehave” there. I have a new ‘boobies and books’ theme I am thoroughly enjoying. Do I care some will be offended? F-ck no. Do I care about the imagined publisher or agent passing on me because I don’t conform? Hells no. It’s just bullshit “they” feed newbies. The right agent or publisher will get me, or I will self-publish again, but in a much smaller way.

Here is the plan for this summer:

  1. Create and blog out memes daily, if possible.
  2. Power tweet on Fridays.
  3. Facebook on Saturdays.

In a perfect world, this system should:

  1. Drive up website traffic.
  2. Give me more monetized hours each day.
  3. Let me work on my tan.

Have a great summer.

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

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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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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.

 

Top 10 things I learned in my years on facebook, or how many “friends” can I lose in one post?

FYI: There were 3001 when I posted this. LOL

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“Live and learn.”

Conservatively, I estimate I “invested” 1400 hours of my life into Facebook over the past four years which is 500 hours more than it took to produce my book. Let that sink in a moment. I have dwelled on this for some time now. It is because of this significant amount of time that I did not just delete my Facebook account when the final straw arrived. I was close though. For better or worse, there is a legacy we leave behind on Facebook for our “friends”, if not the general public. However, if you posted as I did in a willy-nilly devil-may-care sort of way, you will spend days trying to clean it all up in order to leave a “best of” collection of posts worth scrolling before saying your final farewell. Be prepared for Facebook to “limit” your profile and page(s), a.k.a. putting you in Facebook jail, when you attempt such radical changes.

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1) Some people are not who they claim to be.

I am not talking about authors writing under pen names - which is absolutely necessary to avoid harassment - I am talking about people with multiple online personas. Don’t make the mistake of PROJECTING your level of integrity or values, a.k.a. honesty, discretion, and honour onto people you meet. It will bite you every time.

You can protect yourself by using a free deep web search at: pipl.com.

If aliases appear, search each one. If you know multiple locations where they have lived, search each city by each alias. It could take a while to compile all the data, and you should prepare yourself as the results can be nothing less than staggering. Look for, and even search, relatives, known associates, and phone numbers to confirm the site has not made an error. There are pay sites starting from $2.00 that generate a full report including criminal activities. You might want to consider one of these if you are in deep with someone you met online. May your god be kind with what you find.

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2) Don’t be naïve.

If you look up naïve in the dictionary, I’m sure you will see my picture there. I viewed joining the author communities on social media as an opportunity to connect with bright, engaging, open-minded seekers of wisdom . . . kindred spirits who would share thoughts as pen pals would, only using modern technology. Overall, nothing could be farther from the truth. Yes, you will encounter a few worthwhile decent types, but in a game where we count followers in the thousands, they represent a minuscule percentage.

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3) “Haste makes waste.”

I remember being excited about making “friends” on Facebook when I first started out. So excited in fact, I would send friend requests to anyone who had the words author or writer on their profile. Back then, the prevailing theory suggested the key to success was a numbers game; the one with the biggest following would get a publishing deal. People were actually buying followers 10,000 at a time. I didn’t buy into this. I viewed social media as a popularity contest which does not translate into book sales ─ the equivalent to putting flyers in your neighbor’s mailboxes. I have yet to see data which is convincing enough to see it any other way. If I knew better, I would have cultivated relationships with influencers, readers of my genre, publishers, publicists, agents, reviewers, and bloggers ─ all the people I did not have as “friends” but who might have made a difference to the success achieved by my book. Had I known then what I know now, my friends list would look very different than it does today.

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4) Cocaine would have been a better choice.

If you are going to choose an addiction, social media is the worst possible choice. THERE IS NO HIGH, and the more time you spend on social media the less happy you become. Anyone who has read my book, knows I am anti-escapist regardless of whether the high is produced naturally or artificially. Regular cocaine users know the drug has a diminishing return. The high is never as good as the first time they tried it unless they increase the quantity used; and the more they use, the more frequent their cravings become until it affects their lives. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no hypocrite. I let my demons out for an occasional stroll, but I pick my poisons carefully to ensure that none take charge of my life. Social media hooks us on being connected and never being alone. It is dangerous because humans must be alone in order to think, learn, and grow. Social media stagnates the mind and, Facebook at least, seems bent on depressing the populace. Endless distractions thwart creativity and productivity. If you: feel obligated to post on social media; look in regularly for comments on posts; have never turned off Messenger or notifications or your device, then you should pick different poisons for a while until you get a handle on the monkey on your back.

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5) I kept my promise.

I used my Facebook profile page as a playground where I could share multiple aspects of my personality. This allowed me a place to vent . . . and vent I did; or more correctly, am continuing to do here in what will become my last post to Facebook. Early on I promised the real me would be on display at all times to my “friends”. The people on my friends list did not get an artificial construct or watered down perfect illusion of who I am. Nope, they got the full Monte, or at least as much Monte as Facebook would allow. My inner bad boy posted what little nudity Facebook community standards would tolerate for two reasons: Firstly, I am a rebel who sees freedoms dying faster than the planet is losing species; and secondly, nothing in the world is more beautiful to me than the female form. I shared my sense of humour as well, even when I knew it might be crossing someone’s line every now and then. I also shared my philosophies, and those from others which resonated within me, in what I now see as a futile effort to awaken the sleeping oblivious sheeple. The proof is in the likes. There were next to none. Recently, I wanted to find out if I was out of Facebook jail so I posted: ‘Somebody, anybody, tell me if you can see me.’ This post got more attention than a year’s worth of meaningful posts, and at the same time, it made a sad statement on the superficiality of the average Facebook user.

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6) “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

As an author, I should have divided my time equally between Goodreads, twitter, and Facebook because Goodreads has proven itself to put your books in front of readers, and unlike Facebook, you can reach out to everyone and anyone on twitter. Time is the one thing you can never get more of and it does not allow do-overs. Spend yours wisely.

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7) Nazi hamsters! WTF?

Fuckerberg, and the Nazis in the shadows behind him, are using facebook for data collection on each and every one of us, as are most of the major corporations in Silicon Valley. The difference is Facebook knows far more about us than Google, and possibly even the makers of our devices and the companies that supply operating systems as long as they do not breach their published privacy policies which most have already been caught doing. Facebook considers EVERYTHING you share to be their property. This includes Messenger. Yup, your selfies and home-made porn videos are all sitting in a data farm somewhere and you can never truly delete them. They lured us away from My Space with the promise of something better. A promise which was never kept right from the beginning. Their endless adjustments to the algorithm, have severely limited our outreach to readers while they stayed busy categorizing and compartmentalizing us into something reminiscent of a box filled with hamsters where everyone is climbing all over each other. Good luck. I’m out.

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8) Let’s see Facebook for what it is: a societal manipulation site.

That doesn’t have the same innocuous ring to it as social media site, does it. In my time on Facebook, I have been appalled by posts in my News Feed ranging from animal cruelty to the shooting of an unarmed man by police, with a far too great number of others in between. Were they fake news as with the Trumpeter’s election campaigners who mysteriously showed up only to disappear shortly after the election? We can never know. What is clear however, is we are affected, influenced, and manipulated by what we see and hear in all forms of media. Worst of all, we become desensitized to atrocious human behavior and I believe this is NO ACCIDENT; but where they are intentionally herding the minds of the sheeple. When three billion users worldwide have been programmed to no longer give a shit about life, the world can easily fall into anarchy. On that day, the frightened sheeple will willingly turn over the last of their freedoms for safety. The single biggest difference between other forms of media and Facebook is there are no restrictions placed on what Facebook is allowed to broadcast. Facebook can do what they want with the get-out-of-jail-free-card of being a social media platform not responsible for the content created by users. There is no Editor In Chief to hold accountable for what is thrust before our eyes. Facebook’s new take on morality is not for me. It shouldn’t be for you either.

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9) Some people make it bearable.

If I look at my years on Facebook as I would my life, there are some parallels. I have a few regrets but there was also a great deal of laughter. There were a handful of people who made the time spent on Facebook almost seem worthwhile. I hope they keep in touch. There were also some standouts who stepped up when it really mattered, and they have my deepest gratitude.

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10) Facebook is what you make of it.

If you are just an individual who wants to keep tabs on people you already know in the real world, or if you want to find people you have lost touch with, then have at it while being VERY cautious of what you post or message to people. Keep your circle small and be wary of people you have not met in person when they send you a friend request. If you have the misfortune of being a writer who is following conventional wisdom, a.k.a. forced kicking and screaming into the social media spotlight as I was, then things will be tougher. Absorb and retain the previous 1800 words and I will leave you with the immortal words of my favorite Zen master: ‘Mind what you have learned; save you it can.’ – Yoda.

A Holiday Message

My present fron Kat

Times are tough.

There is a great deal of uncertainty, at the very least, if not fear or outright paranoia in our world at the moment.

Please try to reign in these thoughts, especially over the holidays.

If you are able to read this on-line, it most likely means you can afford devices and services which connect you to this online world. These are luxuries you should be conscious of. This also implies your immediate security needs of shelter, food, and clothing have also been met. Be grateful for what you have as there are a great many others who are not as fortunate and who will not be able to read this.

The holidays are a time for giving—our way of expressing love, caring and thanks to people we know.

Even strangers sometimes treat us a little better at this time of year. They might smile as they hold a door for us when we have both hands full of shopping bags. Acknowledge these small kindnesses. It’s too easy to be self-absorbed—preoccupied with finishing the damnable shopping so we can jump right back into the hustle and bustle of travelling to parties and family gatherings. We might overlook this tiny kind gesture which is really what this season is about. Seize the moment to look them in the eye, smile, say thank you, and wish them a happy holiday. It might be the only present they receive this year.

The holiday season puts increased demands on our time because of all the commitments we make to family and friends. This causes us to be stressed and possibly irritable. We need to remember that we are fortunate to have those friends and family members with us as many others may not.

Some people will not be able to travel to see their friends and family this year. They may feel very alone. They can change that by volunteering their time to a cause they believe in. Many worthwhile causes do not close during the holidays and spending time with the other volunteers will almost certainly turn into new friendships.

We pick up the holiday spirit by being compassionate. Give some canned goods to the food bank, give some blankets to a shelter or contribute to your local toy drive. The smallest things make a difference in this world. We often forget this. We do not have to solve global warming to improve the planet; the kid who receives your toy this year might be destined to do that, if they are not emotionally scarred by Santa missing their home. This is how we are all connected.

Goodness spreads like a virus through all walks of life, across all religions, and it does not see the colour of someones skin or their gender. By spreading that which we know to be good, we spread hope. The hope we create can alter the path of another, and they in turn influence the 10,000 people they will meet in their lifetime.

I wish to extend my gratitude to all of you who have followed me online—both past and present. To you, and everyone you care about, I wish you a safe and happy holiday season.

E. A.

 

Unraveling The Mysteries Of The Universe

What if the great mysteries are not as difficult as we are led to believe?

What if the flip-flop is the key to everything?

Physicists are directed by mathematics which seemingly contain a logical consistency within the formulae.  They then attempt to prove their theoretical ideas. Lately, they have had some successes.

But what if the sciences are just a racket?

For the last 5500 years since Mesopotamia, the most brilliant minds pitched the wealthiest people around, usually kings and religious leaders, and played on their FEARS; promising them answers to impossible questions in return for MONEY.

We call this the grant system today.

Paranoid governments fear the other inhabitants of Earth and will pay anything to the person who can offer SECURITY. I guaranty if you can show you are close to being able to put an energy shield over the USA, you will quickly have incredible amounts of money raining down on your head.

What if THE ANSWERS TO EVERYTHING hinge on just one answer in a different discipline, and what if almost nobody is studying that area?

I believe ALL THE MYSTERIES OF THE UNIVERSE will be unlocked the day we understand why women need SO MANY shoes.

It is summer, and with this season comes the clicking of flip-flops. A young girl who could actually run in hers inspired this writer to attempt to motivate the scientific community to make a serious study of this bizarre phenomenon.

Early man learned that foot protection meant he could hunt and gather in places where others feared injury. He could walk on jagged rocks, and fish in coral shallows just by wrapping his feet in the skins of the animals he hunted.

He learned successful hunting strategies:

  • Hunting by stealth meant blending in and not standing out.
  • Sneaking up on your prey meant being quiet.

Women were probably once equal to their mates thousands of years ago when humans were migrating to warmer climates following their food supply. They most likely went hunting and gathering with their mate for mutual advantage. Simply, a pair could hunt better than an individual.

Inequality and glass ceilings did not exist in this period of human history.

That would all come later.

This is the prehistorical life of Oog.

(This is also about how some academics spin a tale; often on the flimsiest early evidence.)

In most cases, the men of the time did notice that their mate could not lift as big a stone as they could. There were other differences too. The biggest being that for about three moons, after three seasons together, her belly swelled causing her to not want to travel or hunt until she produced a new little hunter. These new hunters were too noisy to take hunting until many moons had passed.

On some hunting trips, Oog would also notice his hunting partner was looking for prey where he would not think to look. She would stop to smell the prey often near brightly coloured flowers. She would stop and watch brightly coloured flying insects to learn their secrets. She would stop and listen to noises made by a brightly coloured bird. Oog knew SHE WAS INDEED IN TOUCH WITH POWERFUL MAGIC which was beyond his understanding.

Oog would hunt alone most of the time now, and was not travelling as far as they once did prior to the little hunters. He would arrive back at the cave to find that his hunting partner had been busy. There were hides covering the ground in the cave and she would make him take off his foot-wrappings before he could walk on them—especially when it had been raining. She had brought the brightly coloured flowers into the cave to attract prey so that Oog would not have to travel so far to find food. SHE WAS WISE so he complied with her wishes.

One particular day in Oog’s memory, he returned to the cave to find his hunting partner wearing something other than foot-wrappings on her feet. She had scraped fallen tree branches on rocks until she had made two small wooden planks the size of her feet. Then she had taken the tip of her spear and spun it until she had made two holes in each plank. Finally she tied strips of hide through the holes creating a loop that was just big enough for her big toe. As she walked they slapped the bottom of her feet and made a clacking sound that was surely designed to ward off dangerous animals. Why else would she have gone to all this trouble? With the top of her feet exposed they were not warm, but now she could walk over the sharpest coral for hours without cutting through the new foot protectors. Oog decided this was why she did it, and IT WAS A GOOD THING.

A short time later, she had applied the juices of a plant to her wooden foot protectors making them brightly coloured so her feet would be camouflaged when she hunted in the fields of flowers she spent so much time in. Oog thought he must be the most fortunate hunter of all time to have a hunting partner AS SMART AS HIS. He asked her to make him a pair.

Some moons later she presented him with a set of his own. He put them on and immediately noticed that stepping on a small stone no longer hurt his foot. He squeezed her affectionately as SHE OBVIOUSLY CARED SO MUCH ABOUT HIM that she was trying to take his pain away.

He could not wait to go hunting with them on his feet.

At the earliest light, Oog put on his footwear and attempted to run after the prey in the flowery field. After only his second stride, the wooden plank of his right foot caught a tree root which tripped him up and caused him to fall hard to the ground.

His big toe was bleeding.

Undaunted, and shaking off the pain in his big toe, Oog began to stalk the prey much more slowly being careful not to make the clacking sound associated with his new foot protection. He sneaked up on many prey birds that day, and had the most successful hunt ever. His amazing hunting partner had forced him to become a stealthier hunter, and it had worked. Oog was beaming with pride in his hunt, and IN HIS SELECTION OF A SUCH AN AMAZING MATE. It was at that instant a sabre-toothed tiger attacked and killed him. It seems the killer cat had been following the blood trail from his injured big toe.

Oog was the first FLIP-FLOP FATALITY.

Oog’s widowed hunting partner would soon find another mate to wear the flip-flops, named Ugg. He would later die at the base of a cliff after losing his footing on some loose stones and falling to his death.

Years later, some tribesmen in a hunting party would stumble across Ugg’s skeletonized remains and remove his unusual footwear. The flip-flops were well-preserved by the colour applied to the wood. The hunting party, upon returning to the village, would present them to their tribal chief who would wear them proudly. His warriors would have their mates make them some as well, to emulate and honour their great chief.

They began to lose many battles after that, and they knew not why. Eventually, all the warriors were gone and the victors took the women of the village as slaves and mates. These women knew how to make flip-flops, and they did not like their conquerors.

Skip ahead 40,000 years to our modern times.

The flip-flop is still with us.

Women continue to love them, and some men still attempt to use them—especially now that they come with bottle openers built into their soles.

The flip-flop related fatalities continue as well.

Today, thanks to fashion magazines, yearly changes to seasonal colours drive up the quantity of flip-flops you will find stored throughout your house. Your mate will tell you some needed replacing because of wear while others were needed to keep up with colour trends, but the collection can grow by as much as ten pairs per year and rarely are any parted with.

Similarly, flats, pumps, runners, boots, and the close relative to the flip-flop: the sandal, all apparently require the same upgrading and storage process to await their eventual return to fashionability.

Statistics indicate the average woman owns 21 pairs of footwear. I guess I know above average women. A study also shows women also usually own 9 pairs of shoes that were purchased for a singular occasion, and these too must be stored for years as a keepsake to remember the event.

From the data collected we can establish the following:

Formula

As this equation clearly indicates, women’s shoes will grow exponentially until they consume the planet, our solar system, our galaxy and finally our universe.

We must stop this threat.

Do not let yourselves be fooled gentlemen; women have been in on it from the beginning.

My book talks of relationships, health, life, biology, philosophy, sociology, theology, genetics—even physics, as well as HOW WOMEN CAN BE YOUR UNDOING.

Have a good flip-flop-free week.

P. S.

I have absolutely no idea if the formula says anything at all, but would it not be amazing if in the moment I was writing this the universe spoke to me. I just took a Fourier equation and plugged in the numbers 21 and 9 and then added a well known sorority.

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.