The Antisocial Socialist

So Jack Layton's funeral was today.


It was kind of a strange, heartbreaking, amazing, and inspiring gathering. I took part in the People's Procession along with queerasmoi, bcholmes, tormenta, northbard, frandroid, F., and many, many others. The ringing of bicycle bells and the mournful, joyful music of the Samba Squad was a fine counterpoint to the bagpipes and drums of the funeral procession. Orange everywhere, on the t-shirts and baseball caps of party members and supporters, on sundresses and dress shirts, hijabs and turbans, election signs and handmade placards. Union flags met the TTC Honour Guard. Nathan Phillips Square is once again covered in chalk messages. (And commodorified—you should be proud of yourself.)

There were no shortage of inspiring speeches, but the best was that of Stephen Lewis. You can watch it below, just maybe get a box of Kleenex.



bcholmes has the full transcript.

It impressed me that no one shied away from talking politics, and Lewis in particular was speaking truth to power with the largest threat to Canadian democracy sitting right there in front of him.

Obviously, I didn't always agree with Layton's politics—I frequently and loudly disagreed, actually—but I can't argue with the man's legacy. He was a fighter for the poor, for abused women, for the LGBTQ community, for people of colour, for immigrants, for workers, for seniors, for people with disabilities, for urban elitist sushi-eating snobs like yours truly. He represented the best hope the Canadian left has had in a very long time, and I'm glad he got to make history before he died.

I didn't actually know him—I met him a few times, and he seemed like a genuinely compassionate, decent human being. I knew Olivia Chow a little better (I worked on her campaigns over two elections when I lived in her riding, and I used to just run into her all the time on the street or at protests), and I will admit that I cried seeing her being stoic and dignified. The grief around me, even amidst pledges to carry on the fight, was both personal and political, and spoke to just how much impact one human being can have.

I'm glad I was one of the 20,000 or so people who spilled into the streets, who sang and clapped and cried and crowded into the park by Roy Thompson Hall to say goodbye. I'm glad it didn't become some sort of depoliticized, whitewashed state event. I just hope that we can channel all of that emotion, all of that energy, into building that better world.

jk_fabiani has more photos of Hunter S. Thompson's ashes getting shot out of a cannon here. pirat_ponton has even more here.

Farewell, dear Doctor. The world could have used you now more than ever.