Goodbye Oxymoron

To write "an interesting time in Canadian politics" would probably lead most to wonder if they had missed the beginning of a joke. That said, the oxymoron was turned on its head quite unexpectedly over the last few days.

Context: we had our federal election in October, shortly before the one in the U.S.; at the time, our minority government - lead by Stephen Harper and the Conservative Party of Canada (right-of-centre) - was challenged by the Liberal Party (centrist) and the three other federal parties: the NDP (left-of-centre), the Bloc Quebecois (Quebec separatist), and the Green Party (this party is too young within Canada to accurately say where they stand on the scale). In short, Harper won (or resumed) another minority government. At a cost of $300 million to the taxpayer at the dawn of an economic recession.

So, last Thursday (just after my moody, dark piece of a few posts ago) the Conservative finance minister announced, in a financial update to the country, three things:

• they would not offer an stimulus package for sake of the sagging economy until the next budget (in Spring 2009)
  
• they would temporarily withhold the right-to-strike for federal public servants
  
• they would eliminate the public funding of political parties (ie. their opponents)
  

In other words, it was perhaps the stupidest, most cynical thing I've seen since the days of Mike Harris (Ontario's former premier, and one of the most divisive, contemptuous politicians to grace the country). Sure, there is no immediate proof to show that the stimulus packages being made in nearly all the G8 countries will have a desired affect. However, in the midst of the nation-wide financial crisis, to basically offer nothing...combined with a thinly-veilled attempt to bankrupt the federal opposition parties. You could hear a mass "wtf" across the country. Hell, even the National Post dedicated a front-page column criticizing the move.

So what happened? Well, the Liberal Party decided to talk to the NDP. The NDP and the Liberals decided to talk to the Bloc. They have decided to form a coalition party which, if ratified by the Governor General (long story), would - without an election - give them a majority of seats in Parliament, and thus change the face of government in a (nearly) historically unprecedented move.

Canadians, politically apathetic as of late - with good reason, I must add - have been glued to their television sets and news sites since this weekend as if they were watching the Stanley Cup finals. It's potentially an historic moment for the country.

It's now a question of whether Harper will prorogue parliament - in other words dismiss it in order to avoid a confidence vote in Parliament - or ask the Governor General instead for a new election (and another $300 million). In other words, we could either have a new government in less than two weeks or a new election. Either way, it's a hammer blow to a self-described "new" government filled with Machiavellian technocrats - and it was their own arrogance which has brought this on.

Amazing...and from a karmic perspective, delicious.

Photo: NYC #10

Photo: NYC #8

He Dreams of a Post-Partisan World

In the TV miniseries adaptation of the play Angels in America, the city law-clerk protagonist at one point pronounces that politics have transplanted religion in America, and in fact have replaced it. He says this with zeal, as if it were emancipation.

It pains me to think about that, but pains me more to consider just how correct (if depressing) an observation it is.

Lines have not been drawn, but cut into the tree bark of North American society as if with a pocket knife. You are either one thing or another - you cannot be a third; this is a very American pronouncement. The United States has traditionally always been about distilling conflict into two polarized Hatfield/McCoy entities. You are either Democrat or Republican. You are either a capitalist or a socialist. But this language, particularly over the last few years, has seeped into Canadian political (and trickled down to social) culture. Partisan hackery, demagoguery, journalists berated by right-wing think-tanks into believing that they suffer from left-wing bias, and the left ineffective as ever at conveying any sort of unified idea of what the hell it's trying to say.

During the last federal election, our Prime Minister commented that "ordinary Canadians" couldn't sympathize with pleas for restored funding from arts communities when said artists were, as he put it, always seen celebrating at taxpayer-funded galas. There was a brilliance in this (bald lie of an) accusation, as it was obviously never intended to promote discussion. There was no debate intended to be had; the intent was to rile the artists, causing them to get angry and speak-out publicly, with the consequence being that "ordinary Canadians" (ie. supporters of Harper or those already on the political fence) who saw this behaviour had their suspicions confirmed: artists are ungrateful. Art is a drain on national resources. How dare they ask for more of our hard-earned money (which "ordinary Canadians" spend liberally on movies, music, televisions...). The nerve.

This is a perfect example of how the dark science of politics have usurped the dark magic of religion. You are either a follower of the ministry or you are a shameless sinner. A "neo-con" or a "fiberal". The role of partisan perversion in the distortion of ideas and communication is to conquer the citizenry through division. Demagoguery is an alien-sounding word which, used as an accusation, elicits shrugged shoulders from the general public nowadays. And yet, it perfectly describes what politics have devolved into.

I do not hate religion in itself, nor do I hate politics. Rather it is those treacherous, self-interested few who have the most to gain from either of these pursuits that I do not like and whom I will fight against (if only philosophically) so that they will not achieve power.

Photo: City Hall #2

Miscellany: November 18, 2008

• Ingrid is approaching world domination. Her plaudit-winning reinterpretation of the cover for Cormac McCarthy's The Road has not only received international online acclaim (Bookninja, The Guardian, Boston Globe), but her work was featured in Sunday's New York (bloody) Times Book Review. Print and online editions (with the unfortunate misspelling of her last name in the print edition - needless to say this took a little of the shine off of the accolade. They will, however be printing a correction in an upcoming edition and the online version has her name spelled correctly).

• I've sent the first revised draft of my novel to a few selected readers. Unofficially looking for feedback and consensus that what I'm doing is worthwhile. Nervous. Anxious. Perhaps as a result of this and other things, I've been struck by some interesting what-if's regarding a new book idea. I must be a masochist. At least it doesn't hurt.

• I turned 38 on Saturday. I share that day with Ed Asner and Tilda Swinton (they were not in New York, unfortunately - I tried).
  

• Two films I worked on opened within two weeks of each other. One is a franchise horror film (of the "moral error leads to violent suffering" kind) which traditionally draws massive audiences and box office gold (if not good reviews). The other is (wait for it) a gore-Goth rock opera which is only receiving an eight-theatre release (if not good reviews). They represent what I've been working on for the last twelve months. Working in film/TV is "what I do for money", a distinction I wish I didn't have to make, save for the fact that the quality stuff (often Canadian) doesn't pay my rent. It's a quandary punctuated by background horror-movie funhouse screams.

Gone Fishing...

I shall be away in NYC for the next few days. Restaurant and/or gallery and/or bar suggestions accepted and appreciated.

Tot ziens,

M

About The White Squirrel...

It's funny how you can get used to something as unorthodox as a pure white squirrel.

I had heard of this beast in whispered conversation, but had never seen it until about a year ago. I stopped in my tracks. What. The. Hell...?

Then, last week, I decided to take advantage of the warmer-than-usual weather in Toronto and went to my favourite park to sit and read a book (and eat a croissant). In my peripheral vision, I saw something furry and white moving around the autumn leaves. It was the squirrel. It was foraging just a few feet away from my park bench.

I couldn't take my eyes off it.

I started thinking: how does a pure white (not Albino, I'm told) squirrel survive? Surely it's a fatal genetic inheritance which dogs and hawks have naturally preyed upon.

And yet, the white squirrel continued foraging. In fact, it took interest in my croissant and at one point crept below my feet looking for crumbs. I didn't move: it's the choice you make when you see something like this. You don't want to spoil the moment reaching for your cellphone camera.

I posted the photos on my Facebook profile and suddenly people started commenting or sending me messages, some amazed, some shocked. Was this a joke? A missing evolutionary link? Am I that good with Photoshop?

There's not much I can say. It's a white squirrel. It lives by its own rules. All I know is that when I went back to the same spot the next day, expecting it to have moved in nomadic squirrel fashion to another part of the park, it was still there.

I wanted to ask it whether it knew what happened to the unicorns or the manticores. It was busy foraging however, so I left it to live its fascinatingly precarious life.

Photo: The White Squirrel of Trinity Bellwoods Park

Photo: A Midnight Speech in November