The Antisocial Socialist

I stopped doing the Rob Ford stupidity countdown because it was too much work to update (it hit the point where he was doing multiple stupid things a day, and I couldn't update quickly enough), but damn, if Hudak gets in, it'll be even worse.

This guy. He's unreal. I mean, much has been said already about how, despite a masters in economics, he fails at basic math, and also he's a puppet of the Tea Party, and oh yes, he is actually made out of some sort of plastic-type material. And his smile. He has the worst smile. You know that. But! Did you also know that he is so right-wing that even the cops don't want anything to do with him? This, after he said he'd slash 100,000 public sector jobs but spare the cops, because it's way more fun to bash teachers and EAs. Do you know how fascist you need to be for the cops to disown you? The cops liked Mussolini.

The good news is I'm less and less certain that he'll win. He creeps out other Tories, for fuck's sake.

Related: I voted in the advance polls. For the NDP, if you're curious, albeit with my nose firmly held. I like my MPP though, and I can't stomach voting Liberal regardless of how much Horwath pisses me off, and there were no actual communists or socialists in my riding to toss a protest vote at. I've haven't felt more anarchist about electoral politics in a decade. Seriously, they are all shit at the provincial level, and it's the one that affects my life the most.

It's a sad and strange day when I agree with anything that comes out of Jason Kenney's mouth, but broken clocks, twice a day, etc. Quebec's proposed charter of values that will ban public servants from wearing any religious symbol (but really we mean Muslim religious symbols) is so completely batshit insane that I'm amazed it got this far.

I wonder what even constitutes a religious symbol. I mean, I used to wear ankhs and pentacles and inverted crosses, not out of any religious conviction but because I was Goth As Fuck. In Montreal, would a Habs jersey count? I mean, it's really unclear. Also racist. And loopy.

There is a certain type of New Atheism that's essentially a continuation of White Man's Burden by other means. This is its exemplar.

Via fengi"

I’m beginning to get some evidence from certain doctors and certain scientists that have done research on women’s wombs after they’ve gone through the surgery, and they’ve compared the wombs of women who were on the birth control pill to those who were not on the birth control pill. And they have found that with women who are on the birth control pill, there are these little tiny fetuses, these little babies, that are embedded into the womb. They’re just like dead babies. They’re on the inside of the womb. And these wombs of women who have been on the birth control pill effectively have become graveyards for lots and lots of little babies.

-Kevin Swanson, host of "the world’s largest homeschooling and Biblical worldview radio program". Source

In case you need a visual, here is a needlessly morbid self-portrait drawn after six years or so of being on the birth control pill:

Asshole of the Week: Elsa La Rosa. La Rosa is the shitspittle who complained about strollers on the TTC, a complaint they apparently took seriously enough that all local media is yammering today about whether strollers should be banned or limited on transit or parents charged extra for bringing them on.

I suppose this fine upstanding citizen is incapable of picturing the pitiful sight of a mother and her young children, waiting for an hour in the windswept, -20°C wastelands of Scarborough for the next bus to arrive because, well, there were already two strollers aboard the last one so tough luck, lady. La Rosa might be incapable of empathy, but I'm not. I don't care much for SUV strollers either, but the only thing more irritating than having a stroller appear on public transit is being the unfortunate sod in the position to have to bring a stroller on public transit. Generally speaking, if you're hauling one of those fuckers on a bus, you have zero other options.

There is, of course, a strong element of sexism at work—it is still primarily women who are responsible for childcare, and thus it's women that La Rosa would apparently like to see restricted from the public spaces that they pay taxes to maintain. There's an even stronger element of classism. Rich moms don't take the TTC. Any fee or restriction would disproportionately affect working class and impoverished parents and children.

Also, La Rosa is just a selfish douche. She also wants to lower the age for a senior’s Metropass, presumably because she's 61 and you need to be 65 to get the discount.

Lest you think that the Asshole of the Week designation is awarded lightly, our winner was up against some very strong competition. But La Rosa wins it on sheer pettiness.

I should also mention that it's only Tuesday.

(Oh, and that the solution is actually wider buses and streetcars, and more vehicles in service at any given time. But there isn't the political will.)

It takes a certain sort of either courage or stupidity to post one's abysmal report card. I suspect, in DiManno's case, it's more the latter than the former. Like many of my students, DiManno is eager to assign blame to anyone other than herself for her various failures. "The teacher failed me!" she whines, expecting sympathy. "It's not that I'm easily distracted, it's that I'm boooooored."

This intellectual laziness is abundant in most of DiManno's columns. She's the adult version of the child who proudly declares that she never reads books, the special snowflake who raises her hand in class just for the purpose of hearing her own voice, regardless of whether she's done her homework (and she rarely, if ever, does her homework).

If she'd bothered to do some of the background reading rather than simply spewing out a column about how much she hates teachers, she might know that teachers today are told by the administration to choose from pre-packaged report card comments written in educationese that is largely incomprehensible, particularly to parents whose English is less than fluent. A one-line comment written by a teacher is likely to be much more useful and comprehensible. Withdrawal from voluntary extracurricular activities is just that: Some volunteers (not many, by the way) are choosing not to volunteer right now, and they have every right to do that. Voluntary doesn't need scare-quotes; I choose to spend my time at lunch and after school enriching the students' educational experience, but I don't get paid for it and it's not part of my job description. She would know that Ontario's education system, post-Harris years, is considered an international model because government and school boards have viewed teachers and teachers' unions are partners rather than adversaries, and yes, because teachers here get paid more than they do in underfunded, underperforming U.S. schools. And she would know that the reason we've gone "ballistic" is because Bill 115 illegally takes away our basic rights as workers.

But DiManno admits that she has problems in math (which might be why her argument for austerity measures leaves a lot to be desired) and it's clear that she has problems with reading comprehension and concentration, and so she would prefer, like so many in the media, to demonize an entire profession rather than to actually educate herself on the issues.

Fail.

My LJ has been rather repetitive lately, all B5 and spinal tumours, so I thought I'd share some interesting, inspiring, and horrifying articles and posts that have caught my eye but that I've been too preoccupied to blog about.

Most of you have probably already read The White Saviour Industrial Complex, one of the many excellent critiques out there of Kony 2012.

In addition to the library workers out on strike (and inside city workers likely joining them soon), Air Canada workers staged a wildcat strike. For obvious reasons I can't join the solidarity actions, but if you can, you should. Also, this is one industry that I feel even the most right-wing, anti-union bigot ought to agree needs to be paid well. I mean, do you want the guy who helps land your plan to be overworked and underpaid?

The largest political protest in Canadian history happened yesterday, with 200,000 students, teachers, parents, union activists, and others striking against proposed tuition hikes. (That article's in French; the English-language press has been stupid about the whole thing. Here's an English article from the CBC, but it downplays the numbers and significance.

Via symbioid, a heartbreaking article about the murder of 17-year-old Trayvon Martin.

Via hano, Robert Bales is not the victim. (Robert Bales being the murderous scum who slaughtered 16 Afghan civilians, including children.)

Via marlowe1: Hey, frum parents! Get your daughter a facelift or she'll never find a husband. I posted some pretty shocking links above but there's something about this one that is just a special kind of wrong.

Watch Bruce Schneier trounce the former head of the TSA in a debate about security.

( signal-boosting a petition against forcing American ISPs to police downloads )

ETA: Because the above is pretty grim, watch this video about a blind stray dog living in a trash dump until she's rescued by nice people. It will make you cry but it has a happy ending, I promise.

Dear Wind Mobile,

In a city as diverse as this one, have you ever considered that there might be many people walking down the street who suffer from anxiety orders, heart conditions, and PTSD? And that, perhaps, jumping out in front of them on a dark street and yelling in their face may not be the best way to advertise your products and services?

In fact, approximately 51% of the population has probably, at some point in their lives, dealt with street harassment, and are likely to interpret a man jumping out and yelling on a dark street as the attack of a potential rapist and not a jolly and lighthearted introduction to your company?

Furthermore, might it be wise, if you are going to pursue this method of advertising, to advise your salesmen that they may actually send someone into a panic attack while on the job, and that the correct response when being informed that they scared the shit out of a potential customer is not, "I hope you didn't poop your pants!"?

I actually am a current, and not a potential customer, but I'm seriously considering being a former customer.

No love,

Sabs

P.S. These headphones? Mean that I'm not open to talking to you or anyone else who approaches me on the street trying to sell me something.

Or, how not to be any sort of creepy man on the bus; young men are just as capable of being creepy, though they tend to be creepy to women younger than I am.

1. When you step onto the bus, you frequently have no idea if the person you take a seat beside is in the mood for conversation, and this uncertainty can be very distressing. As a general rule, people taking buses in the outer reaches of Scarberia do so out of necessity, not choice, and you can typically assume that the reason is related to work. You should, therefore, err on the side of acceptance that the person you are sitting beside is tired, harried, and does not want to engage in idle small talk with you.

2. Sometimes, people display physical clues to their level of readiness to engage in idle small talk with complete strangers. A woman who is issuing painful sneezes and whose face is flushed with fever, for example, is probably ill or suffering from severe allergies. She probably felt like staying home from work today but finances or a sense of duty forced her to go anyway. She is probably exhausted and cranky. A smile of sympathy is acceptable under these circumstances.

Other signs are less obvious, but still present. For example, it's hard to tell at a glance whether the woman you take a seat beside spent part of the morning throwing up, and is really hoping that this experience does not repeat itself if she so much as opens her mouth. Or that she has been on the verge of an emotional meltdown for about a week now. Look for a downcast expression, bags under the eyes, or uncombed hair.

3. If a person is reading or has headphones on, he or she probably does not want to make idle conversations with strangers. Unless you are completely awesome, chances are whatever he or she is listening to is more interesting than you are. This goes double if the person beside whom you're sitting is both reading and wearing headphones.

4. If she's reading something by Warren Ellis, you are almost certainly not more awesome and interesting.

5. Remember, women are socially conditioned to smile at strangers. This is not an indication that they want to talk to you.

6. Most people are generally polite and will remove their bags from the seat beside them if it looks like the bus will be crowded. Again, this is common courtesy, rather than an indication that they either want you to sit beside them or engage in idle small talk.

7. If you attempt to speak to your neighbour and she answers you with single words or very short sentences, assume that she is not interested in your conversation. This goes double if, after she has taken out a headphone to hear your question and answer it, she puts the headphone back in and resumes reading.

8. If you persist in conversation and ask her if she is a student, she will likely assume that you are estimating her age at lower than it actually is. If you are visibly much older than her actual age and even older than her perceived age, chances are she is not interested in you as a potential conversation partner, let alone a sexual partner. It's unfortunate that such age discrimination exists, but that's the world we live in, and she doesn't typically make the habit of picking up 20-somethings either.*

9. If she tells you that she's a teacher, your response should probably be along the lines of: "That's nice." "What grade?" or "What subject?" "Maybe you could teach me...everything!" is not an acceptable response.

10. Do not ask a complete stranger where she lives or what stop she is getting off at. This is invasive and stalkerish.

11. If the bus empties and you find yourself sitting across from several empty seats, it is generally considered polite to move to those seats, especially if you see that the woman you are squishing against the window has a bunch of bags piled up on her lap.

12. Don't just sit there and keep staring over her shoulder at what she's reading.

13. If the woman in question keeps a regular work schedule and you have a similar work schedule, chances are you may encounter her several days in a row. There just aren't that many buses in outer Scarberia. If this happens, it can be a potentially awkward situation, especially if she has blown you off the day before. You have several options here:

a) Give her a friendly greeting and take a seat other than the one beside her.
b) Give her a friendly greeting and take a seat beside her, but, understanding that she blew you off the previous day, sit quietly and don't try to engage her in idle small talk.
c) Pretend you have never seen this woman in your life, take a fucking seat, and let her read her goddamned comic in peace.

All of these are acceptable. Sitting down beside her and immediately trying to strike up a conversation, since it is such an exciting coincidence that you have taken the same bus with her two days in a row, is not acceptable.

If you follow these rules, you are almost guaranteed to not creep out people on the bus. Their day, and your sense of yourself as a decent human being, will be improved as a result. Thanks for reading!

* I see you smirking over there and remind you that you hit on me first. ;)

I have little to add to Moon!Fail that hasn't already been said. But here's some signal-boosting for enjoyable responses:


alexandraerin via kynn

coffeeandink brainstorms constructive responses.

springheel_jack does scathing, like he does best.

nihilistic_kid does that thing that he does best.

I have an icon.

Photo by Victor Magdic

Downtown Toronto is a ghost town. I haven't been there myself, but I've seen the photos. I've been keeping up with the news of the wall, the surveillance cameras, the sonic cannons, the legions of cops, the private army of thugs, the school shutdowns, the work and transit closures, the prom and wedding cancellations, even the moronic fashion advice.

And it hurts. I have to say it. Mock Toronto all you like, but it's my city, and I love it with all the irrational enthusiasm of a flag-waving Yank. I live here and I work here; it's my haven and my playground and I find its vastness, its variety, even its cold-shouldered anonymity, a comfort and a joy. It's my home, and at the risk of sounding hyperbolic, these soulless bastards have turned it into a warzone for their little photo-op.

But in the midst of this ugliness, I've come to the realization that we—the activists, the protesters, the unwashed masses—have actually won the war without firing a shot. What's the purpose of summit-hopping, after all? Seattle was a fluke—they'll shoot us all before they let us shut down another big meeting. A more realistic goal is discrediting what takes place at these closed-door meetings, and Stephen Harper and his buddies have done that for us.

How about economic disruption? John Zerzan could raise an army of stinking anarcho-primitivists and it wouldn't rain as much havoc down on Canada's infrastructure as shutting down Toronto's entertainment and financial districts during prime tourist season. We don't need to shut down the streets—they went and did that. We don't need to toss bricks through windows—they've already made a bloody mess of the downtown.

Nor do we need to shame them. They have transformed a bustling, prosperous city into a microcosm of the world they wish to create. Governed by martial law, cordoned off, leaders isolated from the people they claim to represent. This is what democracy looks like, indeed. They used to accuse activists of hiding our faces behind black kerchiefs and balaclavas—now they're the ones hiding behind walls.

So while I mourn as the rich and powerful prepare to shit all over my city, it's heartening to know that they've gone and proved my point for me.

P.S. I totally missed the earthquake. I guess I was at school. Nothing ever happens in Scarberia.