Well my new computer is here. Hooray! But boo! I can’t boot it up because my hard drive, with all my data, is an old device; there are no USB ports on my new machine. So now I’ve had to order an adaptor before I can use the computer. But at least it’s here and I’m on my way.
There was a forum television show on PBS last night (Frontline) that was about Trump that looked at all the factors that led up to the insurrection. Part of the blame was clearly laid on the Democrats who mishandled the response. By damning all Republicans, the Democrats pushed the Republicans to support Trump. The lying by politicians is what has killed my faith.
I have no respect for politicians anymore. They talk a good line about serving we, the people. But behind the scenes, all that really matters is the retention of power and the demeaning of the opposition. I don’t think Trudeau is a liar, but I certainly don’t think he’s honest. There are, of course, rare exceptions. There have been many political leaders of integrity in the past. Those days seem to be over.
I think my greatest political experience happened with Joe Clark. I thought he was a doofus. I’d been a picketer, writer of letters to the editor, outspoken participant in numerous forums, and campaigner. The pinnacle of my career was being part of a ministerial rising team when Trudo was the Prime Minister. The first one. The good one. I’ve always been a lefty, I and I had a strong sense about ministers. There were a few I admired; most we’re idiots.
I’ve always been a lefty, and since working for a federal minister, I developed a strong sense about ministers. There were a few I admired; most were idiots. The idiots treat politics like a game, and they are in the game to win. Lying is a new game strategy. So I’m out. I won’t watch a television show that sounds interesting because I am offended by the very nature of politics as it’s practiced today.
Anyway, about Joe Clark. At the time of the incident that so impressed me, I was the head of the Cultural Alliance of Vancouver. The symphony, the ballet, all the theaters, and many of the musical organizations in the city all got together to form a block so that we could lobby government with a strong voice. When the election came the Arts Club Theatre donated their Revue theatre so that the Alliance could host an all candidates meeting.
That particular year, the Conservative candidate in central Vancouver was Kim Clark. She was about to become the first female Prime Minister. I was stunned when her people agreed to have her participate in our meeting. But then, on the morning of the event, her office called to cancel her appearance. So we went ahead without her. Then, a few days later, her people called me to ask for my help in organizing a meeting of just her with the cultural community.
I declined the invitation to be part of the event. Instead, I turned up at the event with a protest sign to picket her appearance. When her entourage arrived, it included a bunch of security goons who, when they saw me, Approached me and turned their backs to me and slowly walked backwards, pinning me and my protest signs against a wall.
These large man with metal plates on the backs of their shoes tred on my toes and banged their heels against my shins, and really pissed me off. So, when I saw Joe Clark arrive to attend the meeting, I called out to him for help, and he heard me. He came over to me and I told him what his party’s goons were doing to me and that it was anti-democratic. And Mr. Clark, a man I thought was a doofus, said that he had to go into the meeting and make a very short speech before introducing Kim Clark. He said that following his introduction, she would make a short speech, and then he would chair a question and answer session. He said that if I came in, as soon as the session began that he would give me the floor to air my concerns.
I told him I just couldn’t do that. I said that it felt dirty to be part of a Conservative rally. I also told him that he impressed me, and I told him with more sincerity that I’d mustered for years. Sometimes it’s surprising where you find integrity.
Politicians like Mr. Clark are rare. His behaviour slowed my dissent into complete lack of faith, not just in politicians, but in politics. But it didn’t stop it. I am now at a 0% level of respect for politics. It helps to live on an island. I feel further removed from all of that stuff. I’m out of the game.
The one good thing about how I feel about homo sapiens, is that it makes dying easier. All the animals are dying. The seas are dying. And idiots are running the world. We live in a democratic social order that postulates everyone being equal; but our monetary system creates a social hierarchy. Both systems are failing we, the people. It’s like a bad movie out there. Nero is fiddling. I have no hope because I have no respect for human kind’s collective decision making. Does that make me a cynic? A realist? It’s like being gay. I can’t help it. That’s how I see it. I see a baby now, and I worry.
So I don’t think about all that stuff anymore. Instead, I appreciate everything that’s around me every moment of every day—conscious of how lucky I am to still be alive and to be able to walk through the woods with Sheba. I’m a happy old man. There are moments when I’m not, like when I have a seizure, or when speech is really difficult. But they are moments. Gabriola is my paradise. Everything I see here is a trigger of happiness. The rural landscapes, the sea views, and most of all … my backyard. I get a rush, every time I say or write the word “island.”
I did a few errands yesterday. Driving to Village to a couple of stores and then driving home. And it was seriously obvious: the tourists are gone. It’s time to celebrate. Let there be food in the grocery store all the time (and not just some of the time). It’s incredible! You don’t notice it as it slowly builds up in the spring, but you know it in the summertime when it’s really, really busy. And then boom! It’s over. School’s back in. It’s quiet on the island again. It’s back to normal. And fucking winter is coming.