insert witty title here

Another example demonstrating that even in the isolated North, Canada has legal system, not a justice system.

The Liard First Nation* is part of the community of Watson Lake in the Yukon. With a total population of less than two thousand, it is on a circuit court system whereby the court officers (Judge, lawyers, bailiffs and administration staff) are based out of the capital of Whitehorse and all travel as a group from village to village on a pre-arranged schedule. As a result, they have no connection to the community they arrive in: it's just another stop on the assembly line of legal processing.

In between circuit court visits, the local detachment of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police arrest and detain any of the community's lawbreakers. Since court usually only arrives once a month and the RCMP don't generally have the facilities to detain anyone for more than two nights; anyone arrested is usually released back into the community with an "order to appear" when court comes to town. For very serious crimes, the arrested person might be flown to Whitehorse and kept in custody until their trial.

A similar system is used for all of remote communities in all the Provinces and Territories. On paper it works, however the reality is that without any substantive link between the community and court, it is a system that is flawed. The travelling court is manned by road-weary public servants who quickly become apathetic to the unending drama caused by the four main Northern crimes: Drunkeness, Drugs, Domestic Violence and Child Abuse. The community tends to treat the travelling court as entertainment - it often being the only "event" to ever come to their town. The RCMP officers become burnt out as they arrest and then re-arrest the same individuals over and over again.

The legal conclusion (as opposed to the emotional one) of this particular case is extremely common. I recall an instance in Bella Coola where a young woman, running down the street with a rifle (to protect herself after escaping from her husband who had been beating her with a two-by-four) was arrested by the RCMP for carrying a weapon. Her husband was also arrested. At the trial, he was given probation and it was suggested to her that she move out. But where was she supposed to go when her entire life, her family and her friends were located in this tiny isolated community? To expect her to pick up and move herself to another place (a "solution" commonly suggested by people who've never lived in isolated communities) and make a new life for herself is unfair and unrealistic. Would you accept that as a reasonable solution if you were the victim of a crime?

I don't have the answers for how to fix the system we have but from what I've seen during my many years in the North, what is in place just ain't working.





*"First Nations" are what Canada's aboriginal indian tribes prefer to be called.

You saw the movie? Now you can have your own official crucifixion nail as an ornament!

From their website:

"The “Nail” pendants come in two sizes and feature Isaiah 53:5 inscribed on the side."


Share the love people, don't share the Nail...




Thanks go to michael for the link.

There's just something really creepy about 50+ year-old childless women who choose to talk in "little girl" voices (i.e. "I'm weally fwustwayted...") to their co-workers.

It reminds me of a fellow I worked with in Hell who would deliberately stand too close and try to rub his little potbelly against me during conversations.


**shuddering**

Before the whole world gets on their collective soapbox after seeing The Passion of the Christ when it opens tonight, I want to offer a pre-viewing opinion on how Jesus is generally perceived in North America and Europe.

I'm not out to deliberately offend however some of my statements may come across as sacrilegious so consider yourself warned.


I've never been able to reconcile the usual western image of Jesus with the probability of how He really looked.

Let's face it, personal hygiene was at best a luxury and not one that was affordable by the common folk. The same goes for dental care and nutrition. Other than the leadership of the Roman occupation force, no one in 33 A.D. Palestine was taking regular baths, washing their clothes with All-Tempa-Cheer or using Crest White-strips. The unwashed masses were just that: unwashed.

In the same vein, the average height back then was something like five foot two and the Middle East isn't famous for producing basketball players.

Ethnically speaking, I'm laying dollars to doughnuts that Jesus didn't look anything like a strapping caucasian ex-athlete. I suspect he looked a lot more like a scrawny Yasser Arafat.

While I can't claim to recall everything written in the Bible, I certainly don't know of any passages describing him as freakish or odd-looking - which is what his peers would have regarded Him as if he looked anything like Brad Pitt.

So why does Western Civilization insist on making Jesus out to be something He wasn't? Why do people collectively insist on thinking that He was six feet tall, with styled hair, clear skin, strong bones and good teeth? That He didn't have stinky farts or wipe His behind with his left hand (there was no Charmin around in 33 A.D.), the same way everyone else other than the ultra-rich did back then?

I usually get two responses to this:

The first, "Well no one knows what He looked like so he may have looked like this" is just nonsense. He may have had purple skin and green spots too but chances are He didn't. So why is it so uncomfortable for people to visualize Him as He probably looked?

The second, "Well how He looked isn't important, it's His message that matters" is surficially the right answer, except the people saying it are the ones clinging to the Nazi-recruiting poster image of Jesus. For folks who claim not to place importance on the matter, they sure aren't interested in displaying a crucifix with a swarthy-looking, five-foot two, unwashed, unkempt Jew nailed to it or a Nativity scene with a little brown baby in the manger.

Call me a hypersensitive blasphemer if you must, but to me there's always been something inherently racist and ethnically insecure in the concept of Jesus as Aryan über-man.

I think that this was the first record I ever bought for myself.

Those of you born in the 1960's (or earlier) can probably recall how much airplay the song received on the radio. It, coupled with the death of Bruce Lee the year before and the popularity of the "Kung Fu" television series inspired a whole new generation to take in interest in martial arts.

These are some of the things I remember from the seventies: bell-bottom jeans, bean bag chairs, pet rocks, Evel Knievel, black-light posters, Led Zeppelin, disco (duck), wicker furniture, mood rings, skateboards, three-inch high shag carpeting, transendental meditation and Elton John before he came out.

But most of all, I remember owning the coolest bike in the world.

Regarding the young American soldier who deserted and ran up here to Canada with his family; a recent media poll asking Canadians if he should be allowed to stay split the vote at 47% in favour of him staying and 53% wanting to send him home.

Personally I think we should send him home to face the music. Descriptions of him as a 'political refugee' are an insult to those people trying to come here from genuine dictatorships.

But what really annoys me is the statement from this King fellow (the parentheses are mine):

"...King [a Vietnam-era American deserter] would like to see [Hinzman stay in Canada] that happen, saying he believes Canada values those seeking peace...",

because it implies that the particular fear and loathing that Mr. King feels for his homeland is some sort of Canadian national sentiment.

Well Mr. King, you are correct in that Canada does value those seeking peace but; more importantly, Canada (or at least this particular Canadian) values those who have the integrity to live up to their obligations and commitments rather than those who cut and run when the going gets tough and it's time to contribute back to the system you willingly took so much out of.

As for young Mr. Hinzman who is quoted as saying:

"I signed up to defend the country from all enemies, foreign and domestic -- not carry out acts of aggression.",

this is the oath that Mr. Hinzman swore when he enlisted. I don't see anything in there along the lines of "...unless I personally disagree with our national and international policies..."

Now granted, by officially applying for 'conscientious objector' status he did make an effort to work through the system so I'll give him credit for that. However his behaviour after that just exemplifies the "I only-have-to-do-the-things-I-feel-like" attitude I wrote about the other day.

The fact that the United States military has a system that allows you to apply for 'conscientious objector' status is, to me, remarkable in the first place and only goes to show that he was operating in a system designed to be as fair as possible.

Mr. Hinzman rolled his dice in accordance with the rules of the game and he lost. The mature thing to do would be to accept that and step up to fulfill his end of the bargain, not run away when the roll didn't work out in his favour.

It's what integrity and honour are all about.

Last night I had a dream that I had been drafted into the German Army and we were all being trained to fly.

And when I say 'trained to fly' I mean...

There we were: rows and rows of recruits all flapping our arms in unison on the parade square. We had to flap our arms everywhere we went.

At some point I decided I'd had enough and went 'awol' by swimming upstream so the German trackers and their dogs wouldn't be able to find me. I fashioned a raft out of camoflage netting and wooden poles and drifted upstream (what can I say? it was a dream) until I came to a small airport perched on the edge of a cliff.

At the airport I climbed out onto the roof and jumped off into the sky, flapping my arms madly.

Then my dream shifted and I was in Montreal at a multiplex-type movie theatre. I was still on the run from the German authorities and I was trying to get into the cold, rainy mountains so I could hide. I kept heading downstairs in the theatre until I reached the sub-sub-basement which had the only exit door that didn't have an alarm on it. I went through the door and into the forest.

I woke up at that point wondering what the hell was rumbling around in my subconscious to create all that.

Still, it was kind of dramatic and adventurous and sure beats the time I dreamt I was being eaten alive by a million little red insects.

One of the most interesting similarities between men and women is the way each gender places value on their size. Each day at the gym I hear men discuss their weight and the level of success they are having with losing fat and gaining muscle mass. It's a subject they take just as seriously as women to do but with the opposite value spectrum.

Excluding obesity, men tend to equate a larger size with increased masculinity. Descriptions like "he's a big guy" and "he's huge" are usually regarded as positive statements rather than as negative ones. Men tend to dislike being described as "slim", "thin" or "wiry" because those are the words they would use to describe the proverbial 98 pound weakling who gets sand kicked in his face.

For women the opposite usually holds true, with "slim" and "thin" at the positive end of the spectrum and "healthy" and "huge" at the other, unwelcome end of the spectrum.

The irony is apparent, with both sexes, each placing a positive value on the physical descriptions that the other considers uncomplimentary. The last thing a woman wants a guy to say to her is "you're a big ol' healthy girl" and the last thing a man wants to hear is "it must be nice to eat what you want and still stay so skinny".

The challenge is to hear what the person is saying, not what we think they are saying.

This news story from Rwanda illustrates how, ten years later, the after-effects of the 1994 genocide are as poisonous as ever.

Here is a related story. I leave it to you to decide if Noel Kayanda is an accomplice to genocide or just another victim.

How does a society adjust when 40,000 murderers are released because the prisons and jails are overcrowded with tens of thousands of people who have killed?

Maybe things in North America aren't as bad as we think.

Yesterday I discovered that eating flatulence-producing chili for lunch isn't a good idea if you plan on physically exerting yourself several hours later in a crowded gym.

Since it's such a hotly contested topic here in British Columbia's equivilent of the Bible Belt, I'm going to offer my opinion on one aspect of the whole 'same-sex marriage' thing.

For those of you not residing here, refusing to perform same-sex marriages was recently declared an act of discrimination under British Columbia's Human Rights Code.

As such, British Columbia's marriage commissioners (similar to 'Justices of the Peace', they perform civil marriages) were all informed that they did not have the option of refusing to perform same-sex marriages because doing so would be a violation of the BC Human Rights Code.

So to summarize the situation: Your employer hires you to perform a specific task and, for circumstances beyond your employer's control, that task has to change. You now have two options: do the revised task or find a new employer.

Seems simple enough doesn't it?

Not in British Columbia....

Here in BC some folks go for option three: continue to collect a paycheque but refuse to perform the revised task.

"Fred Berge has been a marriage commissioner for seven years and has some concerns with the direction the province is taking.

His biggest issue is with the way the government has gone about its business. There was no consultation, he says, only a 'high-handed' order to perform their duty or quit.

Berge has plenty of bookings at present and so far he has had only one request for a same-sex marriage, which he referred to another commissioner.

He is worried though that he is losing the right to refer a request to another person who might have some experience in the field of same-sex marriage - or that he might be forced to perform a ceremony even if he were fully booked...

...At present, he has not yet made up his mind on the question of whether he will comply with the new directive from Vital Statistics, although he is wondering if his mind is, in fact, being made up for him.

"If they want to fire me, they should fire me," he said. "I just don't like being played like a political pawn."

For a moment, let's put aside the fact that Fred's attitude is disciminatory (but I'll get back to it, oh yes) and focus on Fred's choice of Option Three.

In my world, if your boss tells you to do something you do it or you find a new job. Apparently Fred grew up someplace radically different from me, but it is an attitude I see more and more of. People sit back and announce that they are only going to do the aspects of their job that they agree with or enjoy and "someone else" can do the other stuff. It's symptomatic of poor management and leadership when that kind of attitude becomes acceptable amongst employees.

Fred isn't being asked to spend eighteen hours a day in 19th century Welsh coal mines or to clean up Chernobyl with a mop and a bucket. He's being asked to obey the law and doing so shouldn't be something that requires him to "make up his mind on the question" and complain that he hadn't been "consulted".

Getting back to the discriminatory aspect of Fred's piss-poor attitude...

Let's replace the words "same-sex" with "inter-racial" and see how it looks:

Fred Berge has been a marriage commissioner for seven years and has some concerns with the direction the province is taking.

His biggest issue is with the way the government has gone about its business. There was no consultation, he says, only a 'high-handed' order to perform their duty or quit.

Berge has plenty of bookings at present and so far he has had only one request for an inter-racial marriage, which he referred to another commissioner.

He is worried though that he is losing the right to refer a request to another person who might have some experience in the field of inter-racial marriage - or that he might be forced to perform a ceremony even if he were fully booked...

...At present, he has not yet made up his mind on the question of whether he will comply with the new directive from Vital Statistics, although he is wondering if his mind is, in fact, being made up for him.

"If they want to fire me, they should fire me," he said. "I just don't like being played like a political pawn."

Now there may be some folks who think that anti-miscegenation laws are still a good idea but I'd like to think that they are a decreasing minority in North America.

The fact remains that society is based upon the rule of law and if everyone only had to follow the laws they personally agreed with then society would break down.

This epidemic of "I-only-have-to-do-the-things-I-feel-like" attitude has been growing since the nineteen-sixties and at some point soon it needs to end. If you do not take on a greater responsibility than just satisfying your own personal interests then you have no business calling yourself a mature adult.

This is one of those days where a blog topic just isn't coming to mind.

My younger son showed me this online game and I thought it was hilarious. It's called "Kill the Popups".

At the end of the game you might see a 'windows' warning message about a 'fatal error' but you can ignore it.


Or you can try this British How Cynical Are You?" quiz.

I elected to spend the weekend at the kid's house since their mother was away. It just made more sense than lugging all their stuff to my place only to have them mope about and complain about how there is nothing to do there.

So after driving my ex to her boyfriend's I went back and had a game of scrabble with the three kids. For those of you who haren't familiar with my earlier posts on the subject, my progeny consists of two boys ages 13 and 11 (twelve next month) and a little girl, age 8.

After scrabble we all headed to the aquatic centre for a swim and soak in the hot tub. They have a wave pool there and the place was packed so I spent most of my time staying close to my daughter. She's an excellent swimmer but I'm an even better worrier.

Following the swim it was off to Roger's Video where they each picked out something. We ended up with two movies and a playstation game. Supper was pizza.

I hadn't given much thought to where I was going to sleep - I had a notion of either the living room couch or the sofa in the rumpus room (does anyone other than me call it a rumpus room anymore?) but as I tucked my daughter into bed she asked (with a tear in her eye) if I'd sleep in her mother's bed because it's right across the hall from her and she might get "scared at night". After a very brief moment of reflection I decided that my mental discomfort about the idea was less important than her peace of mind so I told her that I would.

Which earned me a great big hug and an "I love you Daddy"

but not much rest.

It was fourteen years ago today that I was married.

It was two years and three days ago that our divorce became final.

This morning my ex left on a romantic weekend for two with her new beau.

I'm glad that she's moving on - I don't begrudge her one moment of happiness.

For me Valentine's Day is always going to have a bittersweet tinge to it.

That's just the way it is.

Read all about the adventures of Angle Grinder Man and his ongoing battle against the evil forces of parking bylaw enforcement...

I received a telephone call yesterday from some environment officials in the government.

Apparently someone dumped the toxic solvents and chemical leftovers of a methamphetamine lab onto one of my roads. According the the officials, the liquid that soaked into the road was so nasty that a sixty foot length of the road itself is now highly flammable and needs to be dug up and hauled away to a waste storage site.

I ended up dropping what I was doing to drive out there and arrange for the road to be blocked off until the government folks can carry out their clean-up operation - which they said will amount to at least $10,000.00 dollars.

Add up all the meth lab clean-ups that have to happen each year locally and you have the cost of an MRI machine for the hospital or lunch programs for dozens of schools.

There was a time in my life when I asked the powers that be to make me a "chick magnet". Sadly, they must have misheard because I've become a "shitty driver" magnet instead.

As soon as I get behind the wheel of a vehicle (no matter whether it's a motorcycle or an armored personnel carrier) all of the bad drivers within a ten mile radius perk up and scramble into their cars, trucks and SUVs to carry out their goal of driving me insane.

With timing worthy of Olympic-quality synchronized swimmers, they coordinate their efforts to maximize my misery.

Driver One sets the game in play by rapidly backing out of his driveway immediately in front of me. No time to take a look or wait for me to pass first...nope, he takes his assignment of giving me heart palpitations seriously.

Just down the street from him, Driver Two lays in wait like a lioness at a water buffalo hole. Wait for it...wait for it....okay NOW! and she pulls out away from the curb without signaling, leaving me to once again stand on my brakes.

Having successfully gotten my carotid artery throbbing like a disco backbeat, they turn matters over to Driver Three who, with only one functional brake light, maintains one-tenth of the posted speed limit as I unhappily follow behind.

Driver Three then radios ahead to Driver Four who roars towards me with her highbeams on, one of which is angled into the night sky while the other illuminates the back of my left eyeball.

With spots flashing in my left eye, a twitch forming in my right one and my blood pressure making me light-headed, its finally Driver Five's turn.

Not content to utilize any of the tactics displayed so far, Driver Five reaches for the big gun: indecision

Following behind Driver Five I'm forced to wait as he ponders his options at every intersection or junction. Should he turn left? Right? Go straight? Let's inch out a bit, stop again and then decide.

Shaking with impotent frustration, I eventually arrive at my destination. Once again I'm made it without resorting to vehicular manslaughter. Someone nominate me for Sainthood.

Oh crap, now I have to drive home.

Talk about lousy employer-employee relations.

I've exerpted this section from the online article:

"Labour Minister Membathisi Mdladlana was "shocked and angry" at the reports, a departmental spokesman said.

"Why should employers feed troublesome farmworkers to the lions?" said spokesman Snuki Zikalala."

As Sarah pointed out:

"Is that a rhetorical question or what? Why is that spokesperson even asking that question? It sounds like a debate point:

Should employers feed troublesome farmworkers to the lions or not? Pros and cons, you have five minutes."

It was a pretty bizarre question...

The big item in the local news has been a story about a farmer who shot and killed two neighbourhood dogs that were attacking his pet goat.

I know this is pretty small potatoes in the grand scheme of things but it's a good example of the trailer trash tabloid mentality that has become endemic in British Columbia.

To the Chilliwack Times:
Spare me the hyperbole and stick to the facts. If you consider this to be news (and since it was the major headline on the front page I can only assume that you do) then report it as news and not as some third-rate creative writing attempt:

"Bullets shattered the bond between two boys and their dogs Monday morning, when a Yarrow farmer shot the animals dead to protect his African pigmy goat."


To the dog owners:
I can't fart loud enough to express my contempt for this sort of responsibility-denial. I had my dog for fourteen years and in his prime he weighed one hundred and sixty pounds. In all that time he never once "took off into the night" and do you know why? Because I took the time and trouble to train him.

To answer your question: "What gives the person a right to kill an old dog and a puppy?" Your incompetence and irresponsible attitude as a dog owner does.

The willful arrogance you display when you respond to the farmer's claims with the insistence that "...the dogs were probably playing with the goat, and intended no harm..." only serves to demonstrate that not only are you wholly ignorant of canine behaviour, but you haven't learned a thing from this affair. Doubtless you'll purchase new dogs, not train them either and then re-absolve yourself of responsibility when history repeats itself.

Hopefully it'll only be another goat that's mauled and not someone's child.

It's too early in my morning for me to think of anything profound to say.

Christopher needs his morning mug of coffee...

I make a point of only drinking one cup of coffee a day - when I first arrive at work - but I drink it out of a very large travel mug that actually holds about two and a half cups.

As travel mugs go it's not suited for automobiles because it doesn't fit in the cup-holders that most cars and trucks come with. I chose it (years ago) because it's design is best suited for being at sea: it's almost pyramidal in shape (except it's round and squat), with the broad end at the base so that it's very stable and less likely to tip over when I'm bobbing around on the bounding main.

Having sold the boat around this time two years ago I don't do much sailing anymore, but I hang onto my travel mug as a link to that part of my life.

Now I'm gonna get my morning coffee.

Okay here's the thing:

I have no game and I'm not a player.

In spite of the fact that I went through puberty more than twenty-six years ago, I still haven't figured out how to talk to women in a way that doesn't make me out to be a total chucklehead.

I've got the introductory smile part figured out but when it comes to initiating conversation my brain says "well, I'm outta here" and I'm left standing there totally clueless as to what to say.

There's a guy at the gym named Mark who doesn't have that problem. Now admittedly Mark fancies himself a player but Mark has definitely got game. In his own words: "I luuuv the ladies". I see him approach most of the (okay, all of the) attractive women at the gym and he invariably gets a smile and some conversation out of them.

Damned if I know how he does it, but he does it with ease.

I'm not looking to be something I'm not and I know that my personality doesn't lend itself to smooth-talkin' and jive-walkin'...however I'm a little annoyed at myself for still being stuck in post-pubescent "umm....umm...." mode when it comes to talking to the fairer sex.

What's in your kitchen?

Go here for a list of food products that the Canadian Government has issued recalls on. Many of these recalls are due to food allergies but every so often there is a reference to things like Paralytic Shellfish Poisoning or Salmonella.

Speaking of food...

Since I'm exercising so religiously I want to make sure that my diet reflects my needs. According to the experts, if I want to 'grow' more muscle mass as I exercise, for my current weight (about 170 pounds) I should be taking in at least 122 grams of protein and 612 grams of carbohydrates, with a total caloric intake of 4760.

After looking at the nutritional values of the various things I eat (and I pretty much eat the same things every day) it turns out that my actual protein intake is about 105 grams, my carbohydrate intake is roughly 220 grams and I only consume about 1500 calories daily.

The good news is that my daily fat intake is about 30 grams - which is less than the national average.

The bad news is that it turns out I should be taking in two and a half times more calories I currently do. I don't think I can eat that much.

The weird news is that I've gained twelve pounds since September - in spite of a statistic that tells me I've been consuming myself.

Well I gave up on template changes for the time being...although I did add a Guestmap at the bottom so feel free to add yourself to the map!

Ranchers forced off land so it can be mined for kitty litter

Yep, I remember the Great Kitty Litter Rush of '04...

It wuz a cold, cold winter and we had to haul all our supplies in by snowshoe. Whole towns would spring up overnight, full of gamblin' and loose wimmin. Men would show up poor and strike it rich the next day, minin' that heaven-sent brown gold we call kitty litter.

Yep, back then a man was free...free to make his own fortune...but then the dag-nabbed Gummint and the big Kitty Litter Barons came in an' rooned it fer the rest of us.

Now all I've got are my memories and these false teeth.

Like 'em? I carved 'em myself outta dried cat poop.

Here is an article on the growing father's rights movement.

First I want to be clear that I recognize that there are a lot of 'deadbeat dads' out there and that some of my readers are single moms struggling to make do without any tangible support from their ex-partners. These women have my unqualified admiration and respect. Fathers who don't voluntarily (and happily) support their own children should be publicly castigated and have their wages garnished.

Having said that, I do have a problem with the whole child custody issue because it's clear to me that the process in which courts award custody is not a balanced one. Using the article's statistic that 'mothers win custody in about four-fifths of cases' indicates to me that of one of two things is happening:

The first is that the custody award process is a fair one and that four-fifths of all fathers don't merit custody of their children

The second is that the custody award process isn't a fair one and that some level of discrimination is occurring.

Reactive cynicism aside, is it really likely that four-fifth of all fathers don't merit the opportunity to raise their own children? Is there sufficient data to support that as a national judicial policy?

If the answer to those two questions is 'no', then what is going on?

Is this statistical skew due to the biological nature of the birth process? Is custody being awarded because "everyone knows that kids need to be with their mother"?

I suggest that custody award should be evaluated upon the examination of many parental factors: the content of their character, their social history, their mental health and the closeness of their relationship with their child(ren) being the first few that come to mind.

If, after all of that, it still turns out that four-fifths of custody is still awarded to mothers then I would no longer question the situation because it would be based on a demonstrably unbiased judicial process.

Sunday questions:

Where do you want to be in ten years?

Living on the Atlantic coast, possibly in Nova Scotia

What do you want to be doing with your life?

Seeing my kids regularly. Enjoying a modest life in a small home of my own...perhaps spending the odd winter someplace warm.

What, if anything, are you doing about it?

Currently I'm just taking it one month at a time: saving a liitle bit, investing a little bit and spending lots of time with the kids.