Tough on Crime, eh?

Steven Harper would have you believe that the opposition parties are at fault for bringing the government of Canada down somewhat prematurely. That’s a little like spitting at the judge on your way to prison.

If Steven Harper and his MPs had provided Parliament with the information they require to make sound financial decisions then he wouldn’t have been charged with contempt.

What is contempt, anyway? And how does it affect the average Canadian?

In a Canadian court of law, contempt would be “the condition of refusing to honour and obey the court's rules and orders. Penalties for contempt range from a simple fine to continuous imprisonment until the contempt is cured.” Judges take the offence of contempt very seriously and, as voters, so should we.

Steven Harper refused to provide necessary information to Parliament. Why? Is he hiding something?

I don’t know if there is any sound reason to hide the costs of prisons, or jets but I do know that if Mr. Harper was working for any other employer in Canada, he would have been fired for not performing an essential part of his job description.

What is more offensive is the artful blaming of the Opposition, his accusers and our representatives who are required to hold him accountable on our behalf. Harper is trying to force all Opposition MPs to be responsible for his deliberate action of holding Parliament and all Canadians “in contempt”. The way Harper tells the tale, the Opposition wanted this election. Obviously Mr. Harper wanted it more.

Harper wanted the election to happen so much he was prepared to break the law.

The dictionary defines “contempt” as 'an intense feeling or attitude of regarding someone or something as inferior, base, or worthless—it is similar to scorn.' This is how Mr. Harper feels about Parliament, the country of Canada and all voters in this upcoming election. He’s still angry for not winning a majority government last time. This last session has been the least productive I’ve seen in over 30 years of watching and commenting on Canadian politics. Harper refrained from doing anything, working with anyone or even obeying the law. A psychologist might label these actions as passive-aggressive behaviour by a spoiled brat who didn’t get his way.

Someone who commits the offence of “contempt” in a Canadian court of law may be fined or jailed. Contempt of Parliament means the government is fired. In my opinion, Mr. Harper is darn lucky to get another chance to go before the Canadian people and ask for his job back. The rest of us wouldn’t get another chance.

It’s time voters got tough on crime and gave Mr. Harper the final pink slip.

Tea Party Tyrants

a little coverage for my American friends and worth considering for Canadians........

The elite are delighted with the Wisconsin situation. They rub their hands together gleefully as the last vestiges of the middle class start to tear each other apart. They urge on the vicious comments against the public service sector.

For decades the elite have resisted paying their fair share of taxes and hidden behind the skirts of shareholder privilege to line their pockets while the middle class has steadily eroded away under the weight of tax cuts while good paying jobs flee North America.

And now the remaining middle class and working class are beseeched and stirred up by the Tea Party to find fault with the public sector unions who have negotiated good benefits when wages have been stagnant. The poor old taxpayer is being coerced into blaming the victim instead of the culprit.

Who is the real culprit? The elite have downloaded the cost of public services by evading taxes since the 1980s. Now, at the urging of the Tea Party, property taxpayers in our communities – you and I - are ready to blame the public service unions because we are at the end of our collective ropes. Right there to back the Tea Party is Charles Koch whose family fortune was founded on cash from that stalwart of capitalism: Joseph Stalin, while this Koch generation further enriched themselves by skimming off the top of every barrel of barrel that ever passed through their hands.

Wake up people, it’s not your neighbours – the teachers, police and firemen who serve your community – who are to blame, it’s the dons and divas in gated communities who’ve built their wealth on the backs of all of us who are at fault for escaping their responsibility to pay their fair share.

Yes, there is only one taxpayer and he is us, the working and middle class of North America because the elite has escaped the taxman and gone on holiday with the money their corporations saved by shipping jobs offshore.

Just as our brothers and sisters in the Middle East and North Africa are now doing, it’s time we point the finger at the real culprit. It’s time to wipe that smirk off the elite’s face – put the blame where it truly belongs.

Caleb's flame lives on...

A silent time is coming to a close. Having spent the last few weeks in a mostly meditative state shutting out the electronic world with minimal exception, I feel that I have come to the anniversary of Caleb’s death with an open heart, open ears and a deeply felt sombre respect for the man that captured my heart and mind.

Caleb Schaber was in touch with his self in a way that few of us ever reach or even dare to seek. The path he walked was of his choosing. He knew who he was and what he wanted to communicate. Caleb had crystal clear vision of injustice and railed against it in words, art and action. This did not make him popular in all circles and although he cared not for popularity sometimes he found himself lonely for human companionship. His social graces were occasionally hidden under the crush of post traumatic stress yet he was one of the most sensitive and caring individuals I’ve ever met.

Drama and theatre were often the tools he used to express or draw attention to injustice or moments of profound need for creativity in our sad world. Witness: the monolith project in Seattle (January 1, 2001), April Fools Day events on University Ave., his Fountains of Presidents at the Blue Moon Tavern and his campaign for Mayor. Art, writing, music, theatre and protest all rolled into one volatile soul, Caleb affected people wherever he went.

To carry on his memory and honour his spirit, I have decided that, in future, my own campaigns against injustice will divert from my serious side and I will stretch to find the fun, the drama or the aesthetic of the message in ways that Caleb could appreciate. We shared a railing against injustice but he was more effective in gaining attention and a response than I have ever been. Although my campaigns have eventually made change possible, I admired deeply Caleb’s sense of fun, drama and his immediate impact.

Last night I spent several hours in silent meditation on the beach of my childhood, mere yards from the home where I was molested, a place where I often felt panic. That beach was my refuge as a child and seemed an appropriate spot to put the horrors of my childhood to rest along with remembering Caleb, the man who expected me to ask more from my life. Caleb insisted on intellectual and emotional honesty and challenged me to overcome the old tapes that held me back, the warped attitude that allowed me to continue in an abusive but secure relationship. Caleb infused me with the confidence and courage for this path.

The skies were grey and moody, the waves noisy and crashing, the sunset dull and uninteresting - perfect circumstances for focussing on thoughts of Caleb’s death. I spent the time of contemplation at the beach camped out burner style – pack it in, pack it out. I ate foods Caleb had introduced to me, burned candles that last burned in his company, I listened to music he chose to mark a special moment for us, I read Robinson Jeffers, I wrote a letter to Caleb in a book of memories I’ve created, I gathered potential art materials from the detritus on the north shore of Lake Erie, I recorded the sound of the waves for future meditation, I wore black - sexy black not my usual librarian black, I wore the scarf he gave me from Peshawar and I wrapped my faux fur around me against the cool wind. Then I gathered driftwood to burn and sent my thoughts to his spirit as I sprinkled a few ashes from our Frog Pond memorial last year on the flames so he knew his friends were there too.

Caleb Schaber lived big and he chose drama for his departure too. His spirit lives on in many of his friends and burns brightly in my heart. I couldn’t get through all this current court drama without the courage he infused in me. I wish he had stayed to witness the outcome of his love but I know that I channel his energy every day. I will be forever grateful for the short time we spent together and for his many friends who I’ve come to meet and know.

Have you chosen how you will honour Caleb’s memory and his gift to you? His spirit will live on in your actions and memories too. Help me to keep him alive in this crazy, mixed up, sad world – rail hard against injustice just as he would, be sensitive and care for each other but now let’s find the outrageous, the creative, the drama and the fun in life again.

Where's the beef???

Violence against women is a personal experience for me. And I have the answer to why women don’t leave violent relationships. Are you interested?

Having lived in the virtual world for several months, I finally woke up last month to face my real one. This is that tale!

Let me tell you why women don’t leave. Right now, I’m forced to beg for $209 a month from welfare. I haven’t eaten a proper meal in three weeks – reservation cigarettes are cheaper than food so I chase away the hunger pangs by smoking between snacks of peanut butter and crackers. The electricity will be cut off on Tuesday and the gas will be cut off on April 1st. Now my house is being sold out from under me and I’ll be homeless momentarily.

You wonder why a visibly healthy-looking 40-something woman with obvious skills can’t work to support herself. My scars and wounds are invisible! I’ve had the life sucked out of me for 17 years and then just when I find the courage to get rid of this abusive animal, I face the best and worst part of my life.

I meet Caleb, spend 8 months with him – loving him, receiving his love and trying to help this wonderfully talented freelance journalist recover from war-time PTSD, then he dies. He doesn’t just die though, Caleb did life and death in a big way. Caleb shoots himself because he can’t stand living in an America for one more second that won’t help him get health care to get rid of the nightmares from Iraq and Afghanistan. He does this in front of me, splattering blood and brains all over me as I try to stop him.

While in an almost comatose state from that experience, I have been unable to hire a lawyer to protect myself from my ex-husband who has taken all of our retirement savings, the pension that I helped him earn, the good car and our vacation trailer. He’s living in a condominium with the belongings he trucked outta here while I was away helping Caleb. Now, last Monday, he drove the final dagger in. He and his fancy-pants lawyer forced the court to give him an order to sell the house we both worked for. I’m standing in court on Monday and the judge won’t even listen to me because I have no lawyer but I get to pay court costs!

So on Thursday, without my permission or consent, a real estate agent puts a sign on the lawn of the house I’m living in. The only way I can get online (at least til Tuesday when the electricity is gone) is to borrow an open connection from my neighbours (with permission) by sitting in the front of my library. Sitting here I can plainly see the real estate sign and dozens of cars slow down to look at my house and I cry. The last thing that I have any part of in this world is being taken from me. I finally got frustrated enough on Friday to tell the real estate agent that he can’t show the house so I’m probably going to be in jail after the next court date on March 29th for contempt of court for finally telling someone off.

Not that I haven’t tried to get help, mind you. Fighting against all the stuff in my head and the druggy haze of anti-depressants, I have sought legal help. The legal aid system is broken. I am qualified but there isn’t a single lawyer who practises family law that has been available for any of the court dates that have occurred. The only lawyer who has assisted me is the free one at the Womens’ Shelter and she is not allowed to represent me after giving me a one hour consultation a year ago!

The solution to keeping the house, I have been told, is to get financing for the remaining mortgage ($70,000) and find $40,000 to pay to my ex-husband for his share of the equity. Who on earth is going to let me sign a mortgage when I have been unable to work for almost a year! And if there was such a person wouldn’t they also be the type to take advantage – I was offered a 12% mortgage when the current one is 0.85%!!!! What a sick world.

I have worked nearly every day from 12 years of age until I was 48 and witnessed Caleb’s death, I have used up the sickness benefits or employment insurance benefits that are available and now I have had to start a monthly begging routine for welfare to get $209. And if there were a good Samaritan in this world to help me, the abuser would get paid $40,000 for taking advantage of me for 17 years. Or I go homeless (or to jail or a womens’ shelter) and penniless because he’s already told the court he’s taking all the equity when it’s sold or at least the part of my share that isn’t taken to pay his court costs. Grasping at straws, the other day I phoned my ex-husband about the stocks he bought me for my birthdays – he laughingly said he had to sell those to buy his condominium but he was upset because he had to unload some at a loss!

I have contributed so much to this world and this community that I live in that my volunteer hours beyond my regular work life are uncountable and yet I have been unable to find one lawyer to represent me in court, I have been unable to ask one friend to help in the real world except the ones I begged last month for a little money to travel to get some help I needed to get healthier, nor will I have a pot to piss in after this house is gone! What is wrong with this world!

I’ll tell you what’s wrong – this world is set up to suck money and spirit from hard-working people to line the pockets of the war industry, big pharma, stock brokers, bankers, real estate agents and lawyers. And abusive men. That’s what’s wrong.

If I had $1 for every hour I’ve contributed to good causes and organizations in my lifetime, I could buy my house from an abusive animal, I could find the courage to return to writing and contribute again. But I don’t. Where is that money? It’s in the pockets of the war industry, the pharmaceutical companies, the stock brokers, the bankers, the real estate agents, the lawyers and the media conglomerates who won’t pay for real content. That’s where it is!

Women stay in abusive relationships because they see all their sisters in the same boat that I’m in – homeless or in a womens’ shelter - and they figure it’s easier to take one for the team once in awhile, still having a roof over their head, clothes on their back and food on the table. And they witness the real estate agents patting themselves on the back by pretending to fund womens’ shelters while getting paid to flip the houses the women and children used to live in!

Right now in this moment, I could ALMOST take the asshole back because at least I would know that I could barbeque and eat the frozen steak I would put on my black eye! Ah, there’s the beef!

ALMOST, yet there remains a spark inside of me that craves life, love, liberty from abuse and a happy home. Some day the goddess will provide the courage I need to ask for what I crave! Besides steak is over-rated!

Sparks

Sparks
moments from which memory creates life!

Sparks are the beginnings that light a raging fire. In our hearts and in our souls.

2009 was a year with many sparks and many fires - these are the blessings that will light the way - my way into 2010.

Caleb ignited parts of me that had been hidden behind a brick wall created to shun abuse. He tore down those walls leaving my spirit more exposed yet truly alive. His suicide shattered the foundations of my world.

The goddess or the spirits have seen that sparks were needed to re-ignite this once-passionate soul. The individual words, actions and healing thoughts of many have finally coalesced into a recognizable whole, finally shedding light for the future. The gratitude I feel for the small, yet meaningful interactions over the course of this past few months is immeasurable.

I had lost my way and though the exact path is not certain, there is light.

My burner family expanded ten-fold this year to include Caleb's real friends and many new ones. My Inbox saw many take a moment when it was needed to send a brief note to ask me to question my path and to send a healing thought with love. Dick and Becky, Risky and the whole eplaya gang allowed me moments of fun and laughter. Tribe's Radical Life Institute gang gave me meaningful purpose. When the banter became too much for this darkened spirit, individuals reached out to me. fko, UberSatan and Lonestoner know their role. Soon, I'll be back to send sparks into that virtual world again. The playa will be my home again this summer too.

I am sustained by the burners in my immediate camp: the Black Rock Beacon. Our purpose and our devotion to it may seem like a speck of dust in the storm of these troubled times but they are real and they are my chosen family.

Stewart, a friend and mentor of Caleb's, shared my deep sense of loss and knew it was right to bring me to Woodstock to work again. It was a safe place to be in October. I couldn't work well but the exposure to journalism at that moment was critical to show me where my passions lay. I wish I was at Sundance at this moment but I am not ready to work quite yet. There are other parts that need to heal. Thank you Stewart - you were the right dose of medicine at a turning point. Ilene and Gabriel and new friends at Joe's Cafe reminded me of the professionalism I need to harness again. Tong reminded me of the backbone to life - our vocation is our gift and our touchstone but it is not everything. I will write again. I will love again.

At home at last, and alone, I fell into the open pit of despair. My companion: the black dog. My connections to the community severed by long months of neglect were unable to realize or comprehend where I was.

My children, long since grown into emotionally vibrant and healthy young men, were suddenly afraid of this stranger in their midst. As I reverted to an old almost-dead pre-motherhood set of tapes running in my mind - they knew not how to react. As most of us do, the path they fell into was unconsciously chosen. Robert became the caregiver, Jason the emotionally distant disciplinarian. As I now begin to come out of the dense fog, I hope they can also grow back to their real selves and consciously chose their path. Fog is a dense thick soup that envelops, even mires those closest to us. Even when hurt is unintended, they cannot help but be affected.

A chance meeting with regimental friends in November, held up a mirror showing me that despite my best efforts to pretend all was well or would be soon, I had more to learn. I cannot be the dynamo I was, not anytime soon. Every time I try really hard, I fall flat on my ass and the black dog jumps me again. My friends of long ago have lived with this daily for a couple decades - the Balkan and Somalian war experiences shattering their youthful faith in peace which we learned together in the 70s.

My idealistic views, having only recently been shattered, were still calling me to change the world. The blank, hollow spirits I saw reflected in their eyes showed me that humanity really is as ugly as it sometimes seems. The visions they have seen snuffing out our shared view of the basic goodness of human nature. Yet, they carry on fired by that youthful spark of peace-keeping. Their worlds are purposefully shrunken to include those closest to them - its the most they can manage on a good day with PTSD ever hovering near. It is likely that my world view needs to shrink too and that the circle I can sustain will be smaller.

Many people are hounded and a holiday party put me in touch again with the counsellor. A man who has suffered yet can harness his experiences to share when needed. Brad is not the only square peg in the burner community, there are many of us. He has plumbed the depths of his experiences to find a way forward to build his dreams - a vibrant young family and a consultancy to sustain them. Some days you can do more, some days less - face the facts, he counsels. Taymar too, shares his hard-earned wisdom. As do Kerri-Anne and James. Our core values need to be nourished by sharing with those who know the depths to which the pit of despair can envelop one's spirit.

Flying Spaghetti Monster can throw havoc into a well-ordered slide downward. Grasping at me to participate and haul me back to reality, friends planning a pastafarian party tried really hard to suck me back from the further depths. Briefly and within a single day which was a flurry of activity, I finally fell over the cliff and into the bottom of the pit hitting my head on the way down. Arriving unconscious, days later with a recipe for Flying Spaghetti Monster cookies in my hand.

Introversion is a productive place for me. I find myself when I'm alone but the world needs to kick me hard to draw me back sometimes. And kicking is what this world is good at. The suicide of another burner's partner pushed me further and more deeply into a virtual world I had joined during these lonely months of wanting nothing to do with humanity. I chose to spend countless hours slaying dragons. Occasionally, I would be able to respond to the real world through FB chat. Unfortunately there is an off button so you can shut it out completely at your choosing. Many attempts to reach me have gone unnoticed or unanswered.

Your chorus of "flicking bics" has jolted me on occasion. Realizing that there is a world beyond castles and dragons, I am awakening from the hit to my head and the blow to my heart from Caleb's death.

There is an infallible truth that wherever you go, there you are. Even in the virtual world, you are who you are. I don't entirely understand but in that game, I found parts of who I am. When building a character, suddenly there you are. Parts of me, long forgotten, emerged. I love to teach and this game offers that as one of its foundational paths to success. Building an active, engaged and vibrant army of supporters is a path to success in that game as it is in life. I found a way to succeed there and share some parts of who I am that have been hiding lately. My character is a dynamo who helps, nourishes and does battle against evil forces.

In that virtual world, I have nourished my self - giving myself permission to be who I am. I developed a circle of loyal friends to fight the forces of evil in Valeria. We have shared laughs, delightful victories, moments of sheer panic in battle and bitter losses.

But there came a moment when I lost myself in that virtual world too. The old tapes crept in there too. I have a fundamental character flaw that has affected parts of my real life and now are visible in my virtual life. For some reason, I have an appallingly low self-esteem which is jarring for people to realize given my capacity for dynamic activism. I am capable of giving everything that I have - all my time, talent and treasure away to the point where I am completely incapacitated and unable to give any more. This is true in real life and in this virtual world.

Fortunately in this virtual world, I have nourished friendships from the game to engage with people in chat about real life. Even when I was unable to respond to the sparks from real life friends, some virtual friends could get through. There are four who have shaped my recovery and these are not unlike my real life guides. In fact, it is as if, the spirits knew who I needed to attract.

Dia is a wise woman capable of the most frank conversation I have ever experienced. She reminds me of Janet - one who is a real life guiding force and who is pissed at me for not responding to an email that was buried in a flurry of dutiful emails from the pack and only found just now in a moment of light. I will be in Seattle someday again soon to see Phil and E'ireen and will purposefully seek out Dia to thank her in person for the gift of clarity she has brought to my virtual world. I will reconnect with Janet through this story and again next week after my pending adventure.

Mitch is a man of very high standards who has an angry streak that shook the virtual world with the force of his truth speaking. Mitch and I have battled together for months trying to raise the standards of education, cooperation and smart battling among our armies. I consider him a brother. When he resigned abruptly from the wolf pack, it made us all realize the unsustainability of our volunteer efforts there. Truth speaking has made us all re-evaluate not why we contribute but how. Anger is a valuable tool when it sparks corrective action.

Father Wolf is the spirit leader in Valeria. His gift is grace and wisdom and a delightful humour which shines through all too infrequently. His real life burdens are immense and yet he guides the way and gives when and where he can, especially to teaching. He reminds me of my real life minister in many ways. One of the first calls I made when Caleb's blood was still fresh on me was to Father Pat. His words ring in my mind giving me the strength to carry on. "Your emotional love for Caleb was vibrant enough to allow him to share his highest highs with you but also he trusted you to share his lowest low. Caleb loved you enough to leave this world for his next experience in your presence. Violently yes, but you will recover."

And last but certainly not least, is Chris, a Valerian general with a loyal army of clickers who assisted on many important battles and rescues. Our facebook chats became the highlight of my days and nights and hours when I could not participate in real life at all. I actually was unable to tell night from day and any aspect of real life could not penetrate. Just now noticing that my phone has been disconnected sometime recently!

One day about a month ago, I had a conversation with a new character, introduced as Chris' nephew in real life. That character and I shared an interesting chat but my emotional need was at a critical point that day. When, at the conclusion of that chat, I asked for him to contact his real life uncle, he agreed. That contact didn't happen for three weeks which felt like an eternity.

During the last three weeks I was truly plumbing the depths, only briefly taking notice that real life friends joined the game to find out what had absorbed me. And until Chris contacted me on Tuesday with his confession about the nephew being him, I was truly at the point of being completely lost.

No, I was completely lost.

My breaking point arrived last week when I was asked to relive a moment-by-moment recounting of Caleb's death. This "professional" is a proper ass and incapable of comprehending the damage done by that simple enough exercise. Even my capacity to perform in the virtual world vanished abruptly in my return to that state of shock that I was in on April 17th. For brief hours or minutes since, I was able to summon my skills to the task at hand in the virtual world - collapsing in confusion at my exhaustion. A mirror image of my real life.

But the bottom has one saving grace: it shatters that mis-guided pride in self-reliance and allows a scream for help to emerge from the lips or keyboard of the troubled soul.

Finally, the spirits that guide this world brought me the assistance I needed. Dia and Chris joined forces to wake me from my destructive path. Each not even aware of the other but relating the same story to me using the same words. How can that be? One on the east coast and one on the west, neither even directly connected in Valeria and yet both shook me with the same words. Do spirits really communicate to us? Are guides sent to us? I have witnessed it. I have been awoken.

Now as I prepare to depart on a real life adventure to meet a virtual Valerian general, Chris, in person*, I know that I have been awoken. I have done more for myself and my own future preservation in the last four days than the last four months. The clarity of my thoughts is becoming real not virtual. I'm engaged in a new adventure - part virtual, part real and I will return next Friday to finish some important business in real life. My online involvement for the next few days will be sporadic but focussed. I'll travel with the pack when I can get a connection.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaack! Keep flickin' your bics, the messages are getting through and the fog is lifting.



* friends, I'm not insane, a safety plan is in place although I have an absolute certainty of thought that it is not needed. And my damaged brain is working again so I am capable of making that statement responsibly.

The holidays

Survivors of Suicide met in Hamilton on International Surivivors of Suicide day, November 21st. The video panel presentation from the American Foundation for the Prevention of Suicide (AFPS) was a healthy, yet emotional, discussion of what its like to be put on this path by the hand of another.

Yet, gathering is good for the soul. I felt privileged to meet others who are in the same state of shock and healing as I am. The chatter after the panel was helpful and healing. I was reminded that Senator Harry Reid was the one who started this special day of remembrance in 1999 after having survived his own father's suicide. Hopefully, the American health care initiative currently being debated in the American Senate will include increased mental health care for those in need.

The holiday period from Thanksgiving through to the New Year is a time of family gatherings and a stall in the healing as wounds are ripped open again by the empty chairs in each family experiencing suicide recently. Be gentle with yourselves is the message for this season.

As for the AFPS, I can say it's one of the best not-for-profits that I've come across. The materials I received from this organization have been truly helpful in finding the path to a healthy view of suicide. It helps to set aside the idea of blame. The outcome could not have been prevented in Caleb's case, it was truly only a matter of time.

It helps to seek out the 3 H's: Hugs, Heroes who will hush up and listen to stories and friends who will Hang Out with us. The AFPS will hold a fundraising walk all across North America next June and I fully expect to ask for your support of my participation in the "Out of the Darkness" walk in June 2010. You've been warned!

Preparing to face the holidays has been like finding myself with my feet stuck in concrete again. I've been told that this effect lessens with years of experience. I have to rely on the expertise of those who have gone before me. And they are legion - in the US alone, suicide is the 4th leading cause of death and someone chooses this path every 16 minutes leaving behind survivors. I'm still looking for the Canadian numbers but, in general, ours are about 10% - our population in ratio to the American numbers.

Today I received a very special gift: a digital photo of Caleb in which he is obviously happy. One thing I've learned is that nearly no one wants to hear about Caleb and yet I still want to talk about him and what a wonderful man he was - despite the end he chose. Yes, I'm sad as we head into Christmas but I'm thrilled with this one gift. Someone else shares what I feel about a wonderful human who we must carry on without. Someone else captured Caleb in a moment of joy!

Humboldt County: Garbage or Gold?

Is it time to get involved?

Poll: Do you believe Humboldt County should allow the proposed Jungo Road Landfill?

The local group NevadansAgainstGarbage.com have an internet poll that you can participate in. Two years ago, Humboldt County changed its ordinances without any public consultation to allow garbage from outside its area to be dumped at Jungo. Now a company called Recology has been issued a permit to create a "560-acre regional landfill 25 miles west of Winnemucca. This proposed landfill is to receive 8 million pounds of garbage per day, five days per week, with a proposed lifetime of 95 years, from the state of California."

Maybe it's time burners became involved. A large percentage of burners are from California. Isn't it time we took our LNT policy home with us?

In other Jungo news, Aultra Gold Inc. discovered gold at Jungo in 2006. The Jungo property lies between the historic Sleeper and Hycroft mines in Humboldt County, Nevada. The Hycroft mine has recently gone back into production resulting in repairs to the Jungo Road between Winnemucca and Jungo.

So what's it going to be: Garbage or Gold?

Climate Change - Blog Action Day 2009

It's long past the time for action on Climate Change so I decided to focus on a group that is doing something real to make a difference. Black Rock Solar developed from the Green Man theme at Burning Man 2007. Tom Price then the Green Man manager charged with greening the burn took up the challenge and has now formed a not-for-profit to:

take on climate change, and speed the adoption of renewable energy, by building low or no cost solar power in unlikely places, and teaching community members how they can do the same. Because if we’re going to solve the climate crisis, everyone has to be part of the solution. They can then use all the money they save to support their communities how they best see fit.

To date, Black Rock Solar has been involved with installing solar panels at schools, universities and churches with financing provided by NV Energy, in some cases. For example at Lovelock Nevada's school, Black Rock Solar has installed two arrays of panels which will save the amount of one teacher's salary over the course of the lifetime of the array. This initiative illustrates the intent of Black Rock Solar to put renewable energy to work so that other not-for-profits can focus their resources on their mission. Next in line to receive a solar panel array is the Northern Nevada Food Bank. Several other projects have also been completed in the communities of Gerlach and Nixon. And more work is underway in California, Texas and Michigan.

Not one to stand on past laurels, Price is plowing ahead to make solar affordable for homeowners in Nevada. He and Black Rock Solar were proponents of Assembly Bill 186, enacted on October 1, 2009, which changes a long standing Nevada law to allow homeowners to contract with a renewable energy business to use creative financing and install products at little or no cost up front. Not only will this allow homeowners who couldn't realistically afford to update with renewable energy to move forward but it is also a boost to the solar power industry in Nevada.

As one of the Culture Labs of Black Rock City, Black Rock Solar is taking the culture of Burning Man out to the real world to deal with Climate Change by using minimal resources, minimal staff, some volunteers and minimal administrative expenses to deliver real change to communities in Nevada, California, Texas and Michigan.

Donations for this exceptional project are tax-deductible for US contributors and real resources will help push this project ahead. Donate here.

Woodstock - no not that one, the other one

Writing for the next week from Woodstock New York while attending the Tenth Annual Woodstock Film Festival.

Some of my reviews and reflections will be available on Huffington Post, whose senior editor Stewart Nusbaumer has assisted me with credentialling, etc. I remain hopeful that a Canadian publication will be interested in purchasing some of these interviews and articles. Wow, has journalism ever changed!!!

Stewart and Caleb met in Iraq and Afghanistan and shared many of the same war time journalism experiences. This has been our first opportunity to get together as Stewart was in Afghanistan when Caleb died. We're working on the Film Festival but also making time to share our Caleb stories. Stewart's property at Arkville is hidden away in the Catskills - only 2 and half hours from the George Washington bridge!

Caleb would have loved it here. The property reminds me of his home turf at Buchanan and even has a separate studio building similar to his father's. With the fall leaves changing colour, Caleb would have loved it here so I'm making the best of the situation and enjoying the experience here too. Stewart has many stories to share and much encouragement for younger journalists. Being here is like being bathed in the warm glow of a mentor. Now I understand why Caleb spoke so highly of Stewart.

My business card will henceforth say "Fiercely Independent Journalist".

Does ferocity scare editors or publishers? Who knows but it is now time for me to find out?

And here's the press photo...

Moving on - Playa memorials for Caleb Schaber

How to remember Caleb Schaber this year at the burn? Playa time being what it is, pick the one you can fit in to your schedule or that helps you to say goodbye:

• Bring a “found item” like a piece of wood that he might have painted on to add to the on-playa Outsider Art sculpture that we are creating. If you have one of Caleb’s paintings, photocopy and bring that to put on the sculpture. Bring that email that haunts you still. Heck, Caleb once created a piece of art from a pizza box! There will be basic tools to assist and some paints to apply your note – bring burnables only please. It is your sculpture of your memories of Caleb and we will burn it after the memorial on Thursday evening. Check at the ARTERY for placement location.

• Make an origami crane with the assistance of the crew at Rue Morgue (9:00 plaza) early in the week to place either on the sculpture or in the coffin that Rue Morgue puts in the Temple each year. Write your goodbye to Caleb on the crane. This is a drop-in anytime activity.

• Meet on Monday evening at 6PM at the Black Rock Beacon on Evolution Rd @ 5:30, to help us swarm the city's porta potties. We have created a Mental Health survivors Guide to the Playa and printed 500 on sticky labels for the porta potties. In Caleb's memory, let's help those who are suffering to have a safe burn!

• Eat breakfast on Wednesday morning at 8AM and until the food runs out at Toon Town Disco. We’re hosting the Breakfast of Mental Health Champions. We are going to be sooooo politically incorrect as to knock mental health stigma out of our society’s lexicon on Caleb’s behalf. There will be good food to fortify us, heck, Rhino is even bringing GRITS! I’m crazy; you’re crazy too, come dance with me at the disco!

• Memorial at Rue Morgue, 9:00 plaza at 6PM on Thursday followed by the burning of the sculpture once the sun sets. Bring your own “shooter” glass, tequila might be involved. Heck, bring some tequila so there's lots.

• Visit the Temple and leave your memories there. A poster has been created with some photos of Caleb. His name is on the Memorial Burner Plaque. One page in the book of memories in the center of the Temple is for Caleb – read about his life. Add your notes nearby.

• Attend Temple Burn this year, watch the coffin full of cranes enter the Temple and remember that crazy email Caleb sent you and let it all go as the Temple goes up in flames.

• If none of these fit your schedule or your personal connection to Caleb, crack open a PBR and drink to his memory. Don’t be surprised if there’s one less PBR in your cooler – his spirit will be there all around us hopping from camp to camp looking for a brew and deep, spirited conversation. When he shows up at your camp, love him or curse him for leaving us all behind to carry on without his crazy, wild, genius.

Peace be with you, Caleb

BURNcast.TV Presents: In Loving Memory

Burncast Memorial Video

DaBomb of Burncast TV has created a very moving tribute to all the Burners and significant friends who have passed away this year. The music is perfect for this expert arrangement of photos including Caleb. Thanks DaBomb for your very moving project.

BURNcast.TV: BURNcast.TV Presents: In Loving Memory

A memorial service for Caleb Schaber will be held at this year's burn at Rue Morgue in the 9:00 Plaza on Thursday evening starting at 6PM. Origami cranes can be made at Rue Morgue in advance of this service for placement in the memorial coffin to be burned in the Temple on Sunday evening.

My camp will be with the Black Rock Beacon located on Revolution Rd. @ 5:30. I look forward to meeting Caleb's friends at this burn so that we can celebrate his exciting and interesting life together.

We are permitted to grieve
Because we have been
Privileged to love.
To escape grief at the cost of
Never having loved
Is too dear a price to pay

In loving memory of Caleb Schaber

a tribute slideshow

Just made my first upload to YouTube. I'm sure I need to learn something because the quality is not as high as when I view it on my own laptop. Oh well, it was a creative endeavour that was healing.

Caleb's Memorial Monolith Burn

Oh and I really didn't like that YouTube stripped the audio and forced me to replace it with a classical piece. The original soundtrack I made included some of Caleb's favourite tunes and I even bought them but you can't put those on YouTube.

Caleb and I had an intense interest in news and would send each other links constantly. Now every time I see something that I think he'd like, I have to stop myself from sending it.

I'm resigned to having to deal with his death, I'm just now coming to realize that it's all real so I guess I'm not in shock anymore. Amazing the value of being in shock!

postponing birthday

Can you imagine having a birthday in the middle of this?

On April 17th, I witnessed the shooting suicide of one of my best friends in the world, a man I loved. I am so friggin' mad that I couldn't stop him. I tried everything. But I'm even madder that no one else tried to help, even when asked.

Today, FB is sending me happy, happy greetings and all I can do is cry. I have crawled into my pajamas and been here for almost a week. The idea of happy just doesn't register. I don't blame these happy greeters, it's what we do on FB. But doesn't that say something about it's complete lack of relevance to the lives of real live friends?

When are we going to take the lack of mental health care in our world seriously? My friend Caleb deserved better from society and he didn't get it and I couldn't help. My rage at the system knows no bounds today. Depression is not contagious, all we need to do is reach out an empathetic hand as a society and provide the professional services requested and needed. As far as I'm concerned we're all responsible when someone chooses suicide because they couldn't get the help they needed when they asked for it. Every friggin' person on this continent is in some way responsible for the death of Caleb Schaber - he asked for help and we didn't give it to him.

Some people in officialdom even made his life worse. When I'm finished with the Department of Social Services in the City of Seattle, they will not know what hit them. Judging by the emails recently, they are starting to get that message except Mayor Greg Nickels who can keep his jargon and patronizing crap. Too bad that Caleb didn't defeat him in that election back in 2001. As for PayPal, in cahoots with RBC and TD Canada Trust, those bastards will never hear the end of my rage. When I feel better I will hire a lawyer to go after their asses on Caleb's behalf.

And then there's the whole PTSD thing from war. We teach children to get along in the school yard. No lying, no biting, no snatching of toys, etc. Then we grow up and vote for imperialistic shits (owned in whole or in part by military suppliers and world finance) who lead entire nations to war on a pack of lies using torture and stealing resources from weaker nations. Time for women to take a part on the big stage and get the human race on the path to peace.

So, I'm officially postponing my birthday. Today, I'm having a pity party at my house and no one is invited.

Instead of greetings to me, please send an email or phone call to someone you know who needs it or might need it. Talk to someone in your own circle who is having a tough time. Your phone call, your email could be the one thing that gets that person through today.

Re-schedule date for the celebratory birthday is TBA, later. Maybe next year will be easier.




PS. to those who really know me, you know I specifically asked for this week alone in my pjs and I am getting the professional help I need. Next week I will try to get out. Today, I'm feeling the rage and letting it go.

Take back the Day

In North America, Mother's Day was originally a day marked by women's peace organizations. Mothers whose sons had fought or died on both sides of the American Civil War would meet to patch the country back together again. Mother's Day Work Clubs assisted the encampments during the war to fight typhoid outbreaks. After the war, these groups continued as Mother's Friendship Clubs to help mend the families broken apart by the war.

The role of mothers in our public discourse has taken on the "Forgotten Woman" syndrome and we need a "Susan Boyle moment" to reclaim our place in society. We have voices that need to be heard on the national, provincial and local stages.

Rather than or in addition to flowers, chocolates or dinner out, why not take back this day to make our society more livable for our families. Let's talk about peace, let's talk about the things that need fixing in our societies. It's the one day when we ARE listened to and now is the time to make a difference. Let's de-commodify Mother's Day and make it about our role in society and making a difference in our families and our communities.

Peace would be much more comforting than a box of chocolates.

face-to-face with PTSD

On April 16th, I flew to Reno and was met at the airport by one of the best friends I've ever had, Caleb Schaber. I've known Caleb since last year's Burning Man event in August. We volunteered together on a team to help create the best community newspaper in the world, the Black Rock BeACON.

Caleb and I clicked almost immediately. I helped him with a difficult article he was working on and we got to talking long into the desert nights. Not that Caleb needed much help with writing but he was having a hard time finding the focus and the lead he wanted.

Most people who know me and everyone who knows Caleb would say (and have said) we were the most unlikely pair on the face of the earth to hook up. Yet, we did and it was a source of unbridled joy and unmitigated chaos, often both at the same time. During our first all night conversation in the desert, Caleb shared about his experiences as a war time journalist in Iraq and Afghanistan over the last four years. As the night wore on, he talked about the lasting effects on him, personally.



Caleb was diagnosed with PTSD in June 2008 and received a minimal amount of counselling and a prescription for Lexapro. Because he had been a freelance journalist, he had no benefits and in the United States that is like a death sentence. Due to his symptoms, Caleb didn't have a conventional job - he would go for days without being able to sleep at all due to horrifying nightmares. Then he'd sleep for a whole day at a time. He survived by minimizing his expenses, living in a trailer in Gerlach, Nevada until it was too cold, then he planned to couch-surf with friends across the continent. Caleb was also an exceptional artist who created an online blog for his writing and paintings. He had a loyal audience earned over many years who often sent him contributions.

The contributions were just enough to keep him alive, seeking the truth and challenging power when necessary. Unfortunately, he often didn't have enough money for his medication. He would take it for 10 days then skip a week and then get another 10 day supply (the minimum dispensary amount at Walgreen's). With no further counselling available and not enough resources to stay on the medicine long enough to heal, Caleb's symptoms worsened.



I started buying his art on September 19th when he first put up a sale on his blog. I really didn't know his financial situation between August and September even though we had daily email or chat contact. He was very independent and stubborn. I made it my business after that to try to give what I could. Of course, he insisted on sending me artwork in return.

Caleb's gift to me was the sharing of his sparkling intellect and a sincere encouragement to leave a long-time abusive relationship. He inspired me and bolstered my courage to make long overdue changes. Caleb was engaged in life in astonishing ways. Despite the PTSD, Caleb lived life with a high level of activity, curiousity and ingenuity combined with a playful spirit.

As the weather turned fiercely cold in Gerlach, Caleb caught a really bad cold and was quite sick. He had a project he wanted to undertake to clear his record for a ridiculous event in his past which resulted in a criminal record and prevented him from having a passport to travel to Canada. This happened in Seattle and he needed to get there for the beginning of December to meet his lawyer and go to court for the expungement process.

His infamous Samurai was not in a state of repair to make it to Seattle without new tires at the very least. I sent the money for a set of tires and agreed to meet him in Seattle at the first of December. That's when I met PTSD face-to-face.

We met a couple burner friends, also from the BeACON, for lunch in Pike Place Market. Caleb was antsy throughout the meal and got up and went for a walk twice. After we parted ways with our friends, Caleb and I headed back to the hotel in the Samurai. Caleb turned around very suddenly and headed back to the market to get some cardamon at the Asian spice store.

When we left the store to return to the Samurai, Caleb stood stalk still in the middle of the road and couldn't be moved. He didn't respond until I cupped my hands under his chin. He said everyone had guns and he didn't, where was his gun? It took me twenty minutes to get him to a small green space about 20 yards away. We sat with our backs to the hedgerow looking out at the harbour for three hours before he could finally stand up and leave. The crisis had passed although I did have to learn how to drive the Samurai quite suddenly. A book should be written about that vehicle - suffice to say, it was heavily modified and duct tape plays more than one novel role.



For the next several months, Caleb experienced more and more frequent episodes like this. The following week I returned to Canada to try to prepare for Christmas. Caleb sat outside in the pouring rain for 30 hours hiding in the bushes from imaginary enemies. He was staying with another burner friend for the month of December and together Michael and I tried to keep Caleb fed, watered and safe. On one occasion, by telephone I talked him off the Aurora Bridge and into a nearby Chinese restaurant. The Aurora Bridge was a real threat as Caleb had jumped off it a few years ago and broke his back. One phone call was 12 hours long to talk him back to safety.

I wasn't always there since I had a life here to try to untangle. We did spend several weeks together in four different trips I made to the Seattle area for a couple weeks at a time. And we had daily contact by phone, email and chat.

On Boxing Day, Caleb and Michael got into a playful wrestling match that turned serious after the PTSD took over. Neighbours called the police and Caleb was arrested and jailed for 24 hours. With a no-contact order in place after his release, Caleb was suddenly homeless and very anxious about how this would affect his efforts to clear the old record and get a passport. The shock of jail seemed to open Caleb's independent mind and heart to accepting help. We got a prescription for a less expensive generic version of the drug and got a 30 day supply at a time, rented a hotel room by the week and hired a lawyer. I started looking for a housing situation online and found an old miner's house we could rent in Roslyn, away from the noisy, crowded city starting on January 27th.

In the meantime, Caleb needed to get away from the city and its triggers so we decided he should take the train to Washington DC to go to the Obama inauguration. This would keep him busy, writing and focussed for a couple weeks. On the way home, he stopped for a day to visit his father near South Bend for his 70th birthday. I would have gone to the inauguration too but I had a new granddaughter expected that week. While he was away from Seattle, a major repair on the engine of the Samurai was done.

We met in Seattle on January 27th, picked up the Samurai and drove to Roslyn on the 28th. Back to Seattle for a disappointing court appearance on February 2nd. Then returned for a couple of weeks to Roslyn. On the way back, the rear drive shaft fell off on I 90 and we limped into Roslyn on front wheel drive by disabling the rear wheel drive.



The premise of the house rental for a couple of months was to write the book from his interview notes from the war. This was his idea of a way out of abject poverty but the material was difficult. Caleb took to drinking heavily to shut out the stories. Then he took to watching movies non-stop. He couldn't write and the best we could do was a bunch of needed repair jobs on the Samurai. Caleb couldn't focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time which made for a chaotic lifestyle. Some parts of every day were blissful joy but often he was tense and erratic in mood.

I returned to Canada on February 14th then back to Seattle on February 27th. I took the airport shuttle to nearby Cle Elum and hitched a ride to Roslyn. Caleb was to meet me but he had fallen asleep after a grueling few days of no sleep. On March 2nd we had a great celebration with a complete dismissal of the charges in court. Things started to improve considerably and for a couple weeks, everything was great. On the day before I was to return to Canada, Caleb was suddenly very moody. He insisted on vacating the house and driving me into Seattle early and he headed off to his next couch surfing/house sitting engagement. I stayed in Seattle that night and flew out the next morning.

Our next idea was to get Caleb back to Gerlach for the beginning of April and to negotiate the lease of the train station there to use as an art gallery/studio. Caleb stalled on leaving the Seattle area for days on end. He hid under a bridge again and I ended up calling the police to coax him away.

I had negotiated with railways before so I was resolved to get Caleb some hope for his dream of the future and that's why I went to Reno on April 16th.

Caleb picked me up at the Reno airport and we had a great day together ending at Gerlach at a friend's birthday party in Bev's Miners Bar. When we left the bar at about midnight, Caleb drove through the back streets to tell me about his town and where friends lived and many stories.

The meeting with the Union Pacific had been set for Friday morning but I hadn't checked email all day so when we arrived at his trailer, we both pulled out our laptops to check email on the hood of the Samurai. As it turned out the meeting was postponed to the following week. I was ecstatic due to a need for a good night's sleep after travelling all day. Caleb suddenly became very restless and started pacing outside. I asked him to show me the trailer and I would make up the bed since no one had been there for four months. We went inside and he lit candles and put music on while showing me the trailer. Caleb said he needed to think so he went outside to pace while I got the bedding ready. I changed to pajamas due to the cool desert night and waited for him to come back. I couldn't let myself sleep because of the candles.

Caleb walked back into the trailer and I sat up to ask him to please blow out the candles if he was going to stay up. He looked right through me as if I wasn't even there. His face was blank, his eyes staring straight ahead. I looked at him and in his left hand were two shotgun shells. I asked him why he had the shells and received no response. As I moved from the bed toward him, he set one shell on the kitchen counter, grabbed the shotgun with his other hand, loaded it, put it under his chin and pulled the trigger.

The last two weeks have been a flurry of memorials in San Francisco, Reno, Gerlach and Seattle. Cards have been sent. There is no other task left but to grieve and to talk loudly about mental health issues, PTSD, the horrid American health care system and the horrors of war. Loudly and often.

Now you know why I haven't been writing here lately. I don't know how long it will take for me to be over this tragedy but it may be weeks or months, I'm sure. I don't think I will ever be the same person. I hope to find a new purpose, one that honours some of the dreams we had for a train station in the desert, teaching young people about peace and sharing Caleb's art and writing.

Caleb and I had a good time mostly but it was a very short time.

Peace be with you, Caleb. May your spirit feel free to visit once in awhile and explore the next world in peace.

Video Tells All!

Thanks to Cam Holmstrom for staying on top of the Attawapiskat school story.

This video says all that needs to be said.

The last lines by a young male student, "We want a new school now, not next year or years from now. We want a new school now."

What are we able to do to assist this community? This problem has been going on since a diesel fuel spill of 100,000 litres in 1979. That's thirty years, folks.

Opening the Doors OR Circling the Wagons?

Who hasn't heard of One Member One Vote? Then there's the amendment put forward by the Young Liberal Commission.

Jim Curran has started a forum topic at En Famille to discuss this issue. He puts the wording for both right there up front.

I've been trying to think of a way forward. I'm in concert with the opinions expressed there favouring weighted OMOV without the Young Liberal amendment. In my opinion, the proposed amendment is worse than undemocratic, worse than taking two steps backward, it's more like circling the wagons and firing live rounds at voters saying we don't want you or your opinion.

But setting that aside for a moment...how do Liberals get where they want to go?

My first idea is to look at how we got where we are now. Why do we have commissions? I don't know for sure but I expect that the reason we have Commissions in the first place was to overcome perceived injustices or real injustices that were in the past. Or possibly to focus attention and to attract certain groups to our party and give them a seat at the table.

The question now is do those perceived injustices still exist in the minds of Liberal members? Can we overcome them using the vehicle of weighted OMOV?

It seems to me, the answer to both is YES. And the difference of opinion with the Young Liberals may be that they don't believe that the perceived injustice to youth will be or can be overcome by weighted OMOV. Others who may agree with that perception may vote for the amendment just to bring OMOV down.

How can we re-assure people that weighted OMOV really is the way to resolve perceived injustices? What weighted OMOV will do for the Liberal Party is to make it accountable to the grassroots in every single riding. It will make every single Liberal member a salesperson for our party, our core values and our policies. It will engage people in the ridings. Not just in urban areas but everywhere. If done correctly and possibly expanded beyond just leadership (sometime in the future) then I believe we can attract membership and donations in every riding.

Right now the general public sees no real benefit to belonging to a political party. This one amendment will allow the Liberal Party of Canada to be relevant in every nook and cranny of this vast country. People will sit up and take notice once they see that they CAN be involved in choosing the Prime Minister directly. All people - youth, women, men in the middle, aboriginals and seniors. With some extra effort by current members there is no reason why we can't have active and engaged riding associations with hundreds and even thousands of members.

New people will spread the work out, spread the task of fundraising and engage the voters of our country. In my opinion, we have no reason to fear these new people, Canadians share Liberal values and Liberals share Canadian values.

Part of the reason for a decrease in involvement at the polls is a lack of relevance to the daily lives of Canadians. I believe weighted OMOV is the one constitutional amendment we can make which can and will invigorate our party's renewal. It will handily overcome any perceived injustices by taking the responsibility for choosing a leader out of the hands of the old guard, the elite. Every commission member in the country ought to stand up and vote in favour of this because their power will now be back in their hands. It will be up to Youth to attract youth in every single riding. It will be up to Women to attract women in every single riding. etc.

We'll have something tangible to sell - a voice in choosing the Prime Minister.

Weighted OMOV is the way to overcome any perception of elitism or patriarchy that remains attached to a political party. Weighted OMOV is the way to build riding associations, election coffers and volunteer banks. Weighted OMOV will be the first step into the 21st century vision for our party. It's an open invitation to participate in the Liberal Party of Canada. We won't be perceived as a closed shop by the public. It is an open invitation to actively participate in our democracy.

If we vote down OMOV, we will resemble Associated Press this week trying to build a "firewall" around news content online. The internet raises people's expectations about being able to participate, to get their news where they want to get it, not where someone "allows" them to get it. The decision to build a firewall spells the end of AP, in my opinion.

If Liberal delegates do not choose OMOV, we're keeping the firewall around democratic participation.

Liberal party members need to focus attention on selling our future to Young Liberals - a future open to every Canadian who chooses to participate.

Otherwise the Liberal Party risks becoming increasingly irrelevant to every group.

My Canada includes Quebec, s'il vous plait!

Today's news conference with the new coalition triumvirate illustrated that social democrats can work together on specific principle-based issues. The presence of Gilles Duceppe was critical.

In each of the last elections, M. Duceppe has invariably impressed me in the debates. I dispute him on the separatism issue but I have respect for his ability to represent the voters in Quebec. The BQ MPs work hard to represent their constituents and these MPs have agreed to support this coalition until June 2010 with possible renewal beyond that time.

In my opinion, the most profound indication of M. Duceppe's capacity as a respectful political servant of the people was during the last election campaign. On the day that ConTV aired those exceptionally unethical re-runs of the tapes from M. Dion's Halifax interview, it was M. Duceppe who denounced this treatment of a fellow politician. Despite their vast differences on the issue of federalism, I believe it is entirely possible for M. Dion and M. Duceppe to regard and to treat each other with respect while they both serve Canada and Quebec. These two are men with an emotional maturity and capacity that Steven Harper has been incapable of illustrating tp Canadians in all his years as a politician.

I believe that Canada must include Quebec and we should heartily encourage the involvement of the BQ in the Liberal/NDP coalition to the extent that each party can still hold true to its principles. The BQ are very much on the left of the political spectrum on many social and financial issues. Quebeckers, are generally, more socially left than the rest of Canada. This coalition will benefit from their involvement. Canada will be better served by this coalition than by the current government. This means we need to get beyond the unfamiliarity of this situation.

This is a new way of politics for Canadians but many democracies have been working this way for a long time. Stephane Dion showed a capacity for bringing disparate forces together in the Montreal Climate Change conference in 2006 and in the way he handled the Elizabeth May situation. Different, but diplomatic and mature. If we had a different voting system, such as a form of proportional representation, we would likely have to develop many new ways of working together while still being able to compete on principle-based platforms during elections. Prime Minister Dion may be the best person to show us the way.

Yes, this is different but isn't this also the best opportunity that we've ever had to show Quebec and Quebeckers that we respect them and their ideas as part of Canada. Isn't it long past time we stopped fearing the BQ and tried to understand their point of view on the many shared principles that we have?

As Duceppe said today in reply to the question about Harper pulling a rabbit out of a hat to hang on to government, "Canada doesn't need a magician, it needs leaders."

If we stick with Steven Harper, each Canadian family will shiver in the dark all alone through this storm worrying if their pension will be there or if EI benefits will help them through a period of lay-off. Today, Stephane Dion, Jack Layton and Gilles Duceppe together offered forward thinking leadership for all Canadians, including Quebeckers. With this team, Canadians will have direction for facing the economic storm together. It won't be easy but the leadership is now available to show the way.

It's the We versus Me situation. When the storm clouds are gathering, I prefer to know that we'll all be helping or watching out for each other through the storm. Let's include Quebec and the BQ in Canada to work through this storm together. They need us and we need them. Let's pick the "We" team!

Maple Syrup and Turkeys

An American friend asked me to summarize what happened over the weekend here in Canada. Thought I'd share my response here so those who've been hibernating this weekend can get caught up too.

We've had a busy few days in Canada while you folks were having your turkey. Actually we had a bit of a revolution. Maybe you've heard that we elected a minority neo-con government on October 14 then watched with envy as you folks chose hope on November 4.

Well, we might have fixed that little problem. It's taken four days but...

About 20 minutes ago, the news came across the wires that our three parties on the left have united in a coalition and will be putting forth a motion of non-confidence on Monday, December 8th. A week is a long time in politics, sometimes but if all goes according to Hoyle (or Roberts, possibly), we will have a progressive government too.

The background:

On Thursday last week, the minority government led by PM Steven Harper put forth a Fiscal Update (like a mini-budget). The vote on this was to occur tomorrow and because it's a money bill, it is a vote of confidence in the government. In a minority situation, the government falls if it loses the vote.

The contents of this update should properly have included an economic stimulus package and a truthful evaluation of our current economic situation.

Instead we received a vicious partisan document
- removing the right to strike for federal employees,
- ending pay equity,
- ending public election financing,
- reducing government spending over the next year by $6 billion and
- selling off over $2 billion in government assets.

in addition to those insults, the Finance Minister told a bald-faced lie by saying the government would not be in deficit next year. A close inspection of the numbers illustrated that his base assumptions were predicated on old information which was a little rosier (as in before the bottom fell out of the commodities markets) than the current situation.

All three leaders of the parties on the left howled in protest of the lack of spending or economic stimulus when every other country in the world is intending to do something. By Friday morning, the leaders were huddled together to indicate that they would consider a coalition.

On Friday afternoon, the wording of a non-confidence motion was put forth by the Leader of the Official Opposition, Stephane Dion of the Liberal Party for the vote that was to happen tomorrow.

On Friday evening, the Prime Minister exercised his right to put the vote off for one week to Monday, December 8th.

All weekend, the three parties on the left worked tirelessly to put together a coalition agreement.

Three times the government was in a news conference backing down from their own bill trying to stave off the formation of a coalition in the opposition parties.

First on Friday night, they said okay we won't put the removal of election finance in the money bill. This was the trap that they had laid thinking the Opposition parties were only interested in their own access to financing for elections. But right from the beginning all three parties stated they were voting against the government for being incompetent in dealing with the current economic crisis. The carefully laid trap snapped shut on the butt of the PM as he stormed out of a press conference without answering any questions.

Second, on Saturday, they backed off on removing the right to strike for public servants.

Third, on Sunday, they say okay, okay we won't get rid of pay equity and we'll bring in an economic stimulus package on January 27th with a full budget document (usually this happens in March or April).

So, we will no doubt be subjected to one week of vicious attack ads by the minority Conservative government but if the vote does in fact take place next Monday, the government will fall and be replaced by a progressive coalition, which will include the three parties that 63% of Canadians voted for.

Some of our Canadian bloggers named this the Maple Syrup Revolution.

There that was our weekend, how was yours? Did you enjoy your turkey? I think we stuffed ours!

Now, this was a simplified version of the situation which I shared with American friends somewhat less familiar with our situation and I didn't separate out the three parties and their specific involvement. Obviously the Bloq plays an important role when voting to support the government but has chosen not to be part of it, but the coalition government will include the members of the NDP and the Liberals.

H/T to all Progressive Bloggers, it's been a hoot keeping up to y'all this weekend.

Pig Wrestling

Remember when you wrestle with a pig, he's enjoying it and you both end up covered in mud! Rather than pig wrestling, progressives across Canada need to stand up and take an interest in the possibility of a progressive coalition government that would represent more of our interests.

Interested in a progressive coalition government, the Rideau Institute has started a letter writing campaign to both Stephane Dion and Jack Layton. You can send your letters on their quick form with the option to customize it as well. The slick letter form can be found here.