woo, doggie

I’m playing in the land of metaphor this morning, detailing exactly where the left coincides with the right and the metaphors that bind them, in the context of Bad Neighbours.

Ironically, it ended being filtered through the judge’s verdict on the Hockey Canada sexual assault case acquittal, in which she posited that while we are all on the train of believing victims, doing so without examination essentially means applying the doctrine of guilty until proven innocent, when our system runs on innocent until proven guilty. There was enough conflicts, contradictions and assertions that didn’t agree with established facts in the case for the judge to reasonably decide that she could not say there was a crime committed, beyond doubt.

Reading the specifics of her verdict, I would probably make the same choice.

And it’s important, the distinction of innocent until proven guilty versus guilty until proven innocent. How many of us had listened to someone make assertions about the behaviour of their ex, or a coworker, or a friend or enemy that had no actual bearing in reality, even if we didn’t know it at the time? How many of us have had someone assert that their significant other was mistreating them, or playing the role of victim, or rationalizing away bad or regrettable behaviour on their part, because they didn’t actually want to take responsibility for what happened?

Most people don’t want to be responsible for their own actions. They live in denial. They falsely equivocate, they exaggerate, they outright lie, often to the point of deluding themselves as to what’s actually real, in order to avoid accountability for what’s ultimately on them.

You say you want freedom? You want truth?

You have to accept two things then: understand that total freedom comes with total responsibility – these are inseparable – and secondly, that reality is not what you want it to be, it’s what is, and if you want truth, you have to be willing to suspend your beliefs and the little fictions you tell yourself about yourself, or about the way things “should” be, and surrender your open, empty mind to what is, no matter the consequences.

Freedom is responsibility. Freedom is accepting consequence. Truth is what is, it’s not what you’d like to to be, or how you want to frame it. It’s what is.

So, innocent until proven guilty is the better way to go, because believing the accuser means automatically accepting their version of the truth, which we all know can be a highly creative, even self-deluding fiction at times. It can also be true, but that’s what the process is meant to find out (and admittedly, that depends on the competence and relative framework of the process, whether truly fair, fact-finding mission or kangaroo court). But guilty until proven innocent It’s not about what is; it’s about what’s asserted; it’s hypothesis without testing. You claim donkeys can fly, you have to prove that they can. The people you’re telling they can don’t.

That’s the way it works.

And that’s infinitely better than someone shouting, “Donkeys can fly!” and then having everyone that heard them run around scrambling to build wings for mules to make it true.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 2749 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Odds On, Michael Lange (John Crichton)
Comics: Low 22, Black Science 40-41, Deadly Class 39
Music: Endless Wire, The Who

martyrs and charlatans

I once saw a chart that showed someone who worked super hard but made no connections versus someone who didn’t work, but made nothing but connections, and basically, it stuck them in two categories.

All work and no connection creates self-imposed martyrdom, while all connection and no work creates charlatans. Bullshitters versus drudge horses, with those that can find the balance (working hard and creating worthwhile things versus connecting with fans, with industry leaders and insiders, in a genuine, non-bullshit manner) as the true exceptions, the step above the rest. A martyr can find its work recognized and suddenly reach popularity, only to flame out over time (but still leaving behind good work).

A charlatan can become popular for nothing, and lose everything and be leave nothing behind.

I’m a martyr right now, that’s for sure.

May I never be a charlatan.

May I someday find the balance.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1114 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Odds On, John Lange (Michael Crichton)
Comics: Deadly Class 37-38, Black Science 39, Low 21
Music: Endgame, Rise Against (palate cleanser after Don Henley)

street names and the modern dichotomy

I had originally named the street my bad neighbours lived on Sigmund Avenue, but now, given the material, I rather think I’d like to find a name that is more fitting of the analogy of dichotomy I’ve made with this book.

With that in mind, I’m trying to track down the father of modern political dichotomy, the man most responsible for creating the left-right “split” that we’ve got going. I’m not talking about someone who exploits it, like Trump or Reagan or Bush (Junior or Senior).

I want the philosopher. The modern political thinker.

I’d considered Descartes, but the hunt continues.

Who started all this shit? Jesus?

Who was originator of us versus them as viable political theory? It has always been such; someone must have codified as proper, and watched as all these murderous assholes latched on to it. Who created authoritarianism, in its current sense?

Who is the son of bitch that said there’s only two sides to every issue, and third party be damned!

Which founding father is responsible for this shit?

Should that be a theme, a running theme? Things named after founding fathers who turned out to be assholes?

Who thought putting guns in the Constitution was a good idea?

I bet they’re one and the same.

Our way or no way. Us or them. Till death do us part.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1413 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Grass Is Singing, Doris Lessing
Comics: Seven To Eternity 6-7, Black Science 30, Deadly Class 29
Music: The Empire Strikes First, Bad Religion (angry music sometimes helps)

fuckin’ poilievre

I see he’s all up in arms because he’s worried about Mark Carney’s ethics screening.

Gee, guy who refuses to get his security clearance, are you sure that’s the fight you want to pick?

Christ, I had to get one for my one step above mail room government job. You’re the purported leader of the official opposition (though why the Conservatives let you keep that job after losing what should have been a slam dunk election AND your own riding, I’ll never know).

Shouldn’t Poilievre, with access to far more sensitive material and influence, have to follow that same path? I, for one, would think that anyone who is unwilling to get a security check has a) no basis to complain about what other people might be hiding and b) no place in our political system.

So how about this, Pierre? Carney conducts a transparent ethics review the same day you get your security clearance, and let’s just see how that shakes out, shall we?

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1232 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: A Study In Scarlet, Arthur Conan Doyle
Comics: Black Science 28, Low 16, Deadly Class 27, Seven To Eternity 5
Music: The Eminem Show, Eminem (I want some Smarties.)

forty-eight

My health fights my ambition.

My depression fights my motivation.

I’m not sure which is winning.

Happy goddamned birthday.

I’d like nothing more than to go back to being twelve, with the knowledge I have now, and do things the right fucking way.

Then again, would I have all this?

Or would I have opted for the easy way out that time?

Would I have followed Matt into heroin and other hard drugs?

Would I have done something even dumber than the things I already did?

It is hell to be at war, whether it’s with others or yourself.

The dichotomy must die.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1562 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey
Comics: Deadly Class 23-24, Seven To Eternity 3, Black Science 26
Music: Emigre, Anti-Flag

spic and span

I had to look up the origin to this phrase earlier, because I left it in as a throwaway line on the last draft of Bad Neighbours (in relation to the main character worrying that the origin was racist), and I’m happy to report, it’s not.

It comes from a combination of the Norse and Dutch words for brand new.

Thank goodness.

I hate finding out things I’d taken for granted have terrible background stories (see Gaiman, Neil and the rule of thumb).

Dutch is a fucked up language, is it not?

Target: 1300 words
Written: 910 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey
Comics: Black Science 22-24, Low 15
Music: Elvis Costello Essential, Elvis Costello (pretention in music day all around, I guess)

everything is broken

Seriously, our systems are down, I can do nothing, but sit through tedious mandatory training curriculum.

At least the Metis part was interesting.

Stewardship and privacy, on the other hand, I know all this.

Tedious As Fuck.

Also, happy Fourth of July to Americans who didn’t vote for Trump.

For Trump, fuck you.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1071 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Agent To The Stars, John Scalzi
Comics: Black Science 12-14, Deadly Class 12
Music: Electric Version, The New Pornographers

and home

And not productive.

This is one of those days where no matter what I touch, it’s kind of fucked.

You know the days.

Days that hate you.

Like today hates me.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

But Trump still runs the U.S.A., so probably not.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 730 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Agent To The Stars, John Scalzi
Comics: Black Science 11, Deadly Class 10-11, Low 6
Music: Electric Larryland, Butthole Surfers (terrible live, by the way, at least when they came to Sheridan they were)

canada day

What a difference a year makes.

I may be an anarchist looking for the total responsibility of total freedom at heart, but I’m also a firm believer in compassion and community.

And if I had the choice of country to live in, Canada could hardly be a bad one, despite what assholes like Danielle Smith and Pierre Poilievre would have us become.

So, happy Canada Day to those that celebrate and for those Canadians who consider a lying, narcissistic, fascistic con man somehow a better representative of goodness than the millions of Canadians would rather just be nice to one another…

Fuck you.

If you love the States and Donald Trump so much, go there. Get the fuck out.

You hear me, Danielle? How about you, Pierre?

Get the fuck out.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1196 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Agent To The Stars, John Scalzi
Comics: Deadly Class 7-8, Low 3, Black Science 9
Music: Election, Spacehog

it’s the seventeeth

That doesn’t mean anything; it just means Trump is deranged and about to start World War 3 with Iran, all while his own country descends into total chaos.

There needs to be another vote, like yesterday. Surely, there’s buyer’s remorse.

There is such a thing as a recall vote; they need to implement that for presidents as well.

Here, I’d just like ranked voting, so I can voice my displeasure with Carney’s globalist, big business agenda while not automatically handing the election to the fascists on the right.

It’s the biggest swindle going; the gravy train never stops for corporations, and we all lose our actual choice, so that we don’t descend into authoritarianism under guys like Harper, Scheer and Poilievre.

What a fucking scam.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1275 words

Read: Metrophage, Richard Kadrey
Comics: Fathom v8 5-6, Fathom: The Core 1-2
Music: Eat To The Beat, Blondie (I think I might actually still be in love with Debbie Harry, like, you know, in a lusty kind of way)