A Little Glimpse

I'm sick of assholes.

I'm not generally regarded as a nice person. But I'm not an asshole. I'm quiet and introverted. But I never yell at anybody and I'm usually willing to help out even complete strangers if I can. I'm polite. I keep to myself and don't bother anyone.

It was a pleasant night. A thin film of clouds covered a star lighted sky. I could see my breath curl up through my glasses in the cold air. I minded my own business, looking non-threatening in jeans, a white shirt and a pea coat. I sipped my coffee and enjoyed the scene of a bustling night life and the way the street lights reflect off of store windows. When of a sudden, a large fat prick jerked in face shouting "Don't spill you're coffee!," darted out of the way and continued on with his two friends laughing, all the while. I wasn't laughing. In fact, had I not been such a nice person, I would have thrown my coffee in his face. Instead, I carried on my way though I suddenly felt my heart beating rapidly in my ears. At first it was only the shock of an unexpected attack. But then it grew and festered in my heart like a fire stirred in the coals.

If you've ever wondered why I'm a sociophobe, there's your answer. I'm fucking sick of assholes like that roaming the streets. Now you probably say it was nothing. And it was. Really, it was. I know that. But this is certainly not an isolated incident. I've been egged. I've had drinks thrown at me. I've seen a group of girls get hit by a wayward bowl of chili. I've heard people get shot with paintballs. I've been called gay by passing motorists. More than a few times. Tabi can't walk down the street without getting honked at. I've been splashed. I've been offered drugs. I've had a pair of scissors shaken at me. Is this what passes for decent behaviour these days? I can honestly say all of these incidents were entirely unprovoked and were perpetrated by people who were complete strangers to me.

And I'm tired of it. So very tired of it. Civilization is crumbling around me. Recently a friend's status on Facebook said "E___ is playing civilization but aren't we all?" At the time I thought how true those words were. She meant of course the computer game. But how we are all a part of the real life version of Civilization. Now I'm thinking how much truer her words are. The reality is that most of the population really is just playing it. They aren't civilized at all. Civilization no longer exist if it ever did.

What happened to the golden rule? Methinks maybe we need to go back to the days when the rule was used to beat people. I don't know if it's the town or the times. But back when I was younger I walked to work so early in the morning that I saw perhaps four other people on my twenty minute walk down the main street. Two of those people were driving. The other two were joggers who more often than not offered polite "good morning"s on their huffy-puffy way by. Those people had manners. These people here or today do not.

Am I a dying breed? Do we not instill thought processes into our children anymore? Do we not teach them how to behave toward our fellow man? Either things need to start changing or I'm going to lock myself up in my room. Not that you'd care if the one person who will be nice to you goes missing. But the people who are going to be assholes to you won't.

My Right to Complain

Avid voters like to tell non-voters that they have no right to complain about the government since they didn't vote. I see that in the complete opposite light. Those who vote have no right to complain about the government they voted for because they voted for that government. As a non-voter I have every right to complain about a failing system that I did not imagine, design, instigate or control. The reality is that my vote doesn't matter. Extremely few elections have ever been won by one vote. "If everyone said that, the system would collapse." That's true enough. But not everyone says that. After all, the system is built on suckers and maintained by it. But no candidate let alone party has ever accurately depicted my view of what Canada should be. While a candidate or party might keep up the health-care system, their economic policy my flat line. It really is a matter or choosing the lesser of two evils.

There are those who say it is my duty as a Canadian citizen to vote and honour those who fought for our freedoms. With no disrespect to our fighting men past and present, no Canadian soldier has ever fought for the freedoms I enjoy let alone to install the current (or past) government. Let's have a comprehensive run down of wars that Canada has had notable involvement in.

The War of 1812 - This was really a spat between Britain and the US over trading lanes in the Atlantic. Canada did not technically exist as a country at the time. It's soldiers were comprised of militia and British regulars. The war had nothing to do with Canada. It's not a stretch to think America was simply doing France a favour by distracting British officials while they were already at war with the French. Consider it payback for France helping America in the War of Independence. How soon we forget.

The Boer War - Fighting naked Africans armed with hide bucklers and pointy sticks in the deserts and jungles of South Africa hardly counts as fighting for our freedoms.

The Great War - Though Canadian soldiers acted valiantly and effectively (as they have in all wars), no foreign army rolled onto Canadian soil. There was no threat of invasion. Germany didn't even want to be in the war. They were forced on account of treaties made to back up allied countries who declared war. The only reason Canada showed up to fight was it's status as a Dominion of Great Britain. It was forced to show up, too.

World War II - A horrific war and an ugly scar on the history of humanity, this is - in my opinion - the only just war Canada involved itself in, though few would admit to knowing why at the time. Still, at no time was Canada invaded nor is it thought that Germany or Japan had any real intention of invading. It was not for our freedoms that Canadian soldiers fought. It was for the freedoms of others.

The Korean War - Though I know admittedly little about Canada's role in this war, it seems to me another McCarthy type of witch hunt to stop Communism dead in its tracks. Though communist expansion - or at least socialism and the spread of unions - might have been a threat to Canada, Korea wasn't.

The Gulf War (and its subsequent incarnations) - Um... must I? Oil. Enough said.

"You have to think long term," they might say. You can't think long term when you're a country. That's a pipe dream. The global stage is so unstable that it's like trying to perform Romeo and Juliet on a teeter totter. An effective plan for the long term future is a slave to the whims of both the actions of other nations and the reactions of individuals to events.

The reality is that Canada became a nation in a non-violent manner by the debate and logic of rational weaponless people seated at a table in a fancy and rich room. No blood was shed. These people acted on the best of intentions with the best available philosophy of politics at the time. Even today's voters are likely to admit such ideas are probably outdated. No wars were fought to give us independence and technically we are not even independent. We are officially a Dominion, a colony of Great Britain still, subject to it's whims and desires. No war has since been fought to protect our independence.

So, yeah, I can complain when the government fritters away our money and our politicians embezzle our taxes for their own amusement. I can complain when the health care system and education systems crumbles in incompetent hands. In my own way, I am voting. My choice may not be on the ballot. But if someone was paying attention, they might notice that I and nearly 70% of the country are voting for change by not voting.

I'd Rather Be Fighting the Man

Samuel felt the rolling and tumbling of the barrel he was in. There were muffled voices from outside. The lid was being pried up and he prayed to God that it wasn't a bounty hunter or some official come to take him back on the other end of the pry bar. He had come so close and it would kill him to have to go back. He crouched as tight as he could at the bottom of the barrel, trying to make himself disappear in the well of shadows, hoping his dark skin would serve him a purpose for once in his life.

With the lid pried off, a white face peered over the rim to look inside. In the dim candle light of the cabin, only the glint of a pair of white eyes showed. "Sam. Sam, it's all right. We've made it. You're free!"

Samuel Jenkins cowered in the knowledge that it might be a lie. He wouldn't be the first to be told he was free only to discover a pair of iron bracelets waiting for him. One way or the other, he figured, there was only getting out of the barrel to get there. He tried to stand but found himself too cramped and stiff from the long journey nearly doubled over in his tiny wooden prison. He could only raise himself a little before slouching back down. The man who had driven the cart and opened the barrel reached down to take him by the arms and pull him up. He was grateful for the help. The voyage had been long and he had nearly starved to death a number of times. Once the most strapping young man on the plantation he was now only a frail body covered in torn rags. People had helped him along the way but it had been at their own great risk and often they had only little to spare. Even the dim light of the candle was bright to his eyes as he was pulled up and lifted by two sets of rough cold hands over the edge of the barrel and set upon the ground. His eyes darted around the room looking for the wrong sorts of people. Instead he found only a humble white family clustered together to one side, the two men who had raised him up, a simple kitchen with simple furniture and a warm wood stove in the corner. And his own wife. Tears rolled from her eyes. "You're made! Oh, Sam, we're free!" she cried before dashing over to him. She cradled him in her arms and despite the cold that swept in under the door - a cold like he had never known - Samuel Jenkins felt the warmest he ever had in his life. It had been almost four years since he had seen his wife and two since he had any word from her. They had tried to escape together once before. Though she had made it because of his sacrifice, he had been captured and sent back to the plantation for punishment. The scars on his back ached in the cold.

For minutes all he could do was moan and rock in his wife's arms. All the eyes present seemed to be shedding salty drops, even the young white child whose family cabin this must be.

Over the course of the next week, five more people made it to that lonely cabin in the Canadian wilds. One of them Sam knew from his own plantation. The rest came from place he knew nothing about. From here they were to be sent on to the city where they would have to fare as best they could. They would get help from the Railroad and what organizations there were but it wouldn't last forever. Delilah had made a meagre living while waiting for Samuel doing needlework and occasionally trying her hand as a maid. But it wasn't enough for the two of them to live on.

Still, that night was a night for rejoicing. The snow had started to fall a few days earlier and the group of dark skinned men and women sat outside in a circle feasting on the pitiful rations the hosting family could supply. They invited the family to join them in their celebrations. They talked and spoke of their trials, their near escapes and setbacks. They had all endured a tortuous journey and suffered to find their freedom at last. Some small instruments were brought out and the music began.

The river ends between two hills, Follow the drinking gourd. There's another river on the other side, Follow the drinking gourd, they sang and Sam was overcome with emotion. He remembered in detail following the waters of the Tennessee River, the marks on the trees felt more than seen in the dark, crossing the frozen Ohio River and gazing up at the night sky even on the most overcast of nights. So many times he had sung those words to himself as both a guide and map as well as a way of giving himself hope. The stars were not shining that night around the fire. But there was no greater indication that he had reached the north than sitting with his wife and a family of white people as a free man.

Birthday Thought

Since it's close to my birthday I have been reflecting on gift giving. Not many people are actually any good at giving gifts. The common mistake is that people buy things that remind them of the person they are giving it to when what the recipient wants is something that reminds them of the person who gave it to them. Of course, in my case, cashews and Coke are good too.