Trudeau

One of the few Prime Minsters that Canadians actually seem to like, was Pierre Trudeau. His son, Justin, is now an MP and currently sporting some dashing and altogether rather embarrassingly awful facial hair. Post Movember I'm told.
But right now, he is a bit of a hero.

The greater embarrassment for Canada, far greater than Justin's beard, Celine Dion and Bryan Adams all rolled into one, is the fiasco of the Durban Climate Conference when Canada withdrew from the Kyoto Protocol. In truth, we had a commitment to reducing emissions by 6% by next year, whereas emissions in this country had actually risen by 30%. Epic failure on that one.

Canada's so-called Environment minister,criticised another minister who took up this awful state of affairs with him in the House of Commons, but he had personally prohibited the other ministers from going. Trudeau, in parliament, called him a piece of shit.

Like a true Canadian, he then apologised.
But he was damned right.

Eclipse

I was awake and outside extremely early this morning, in the hope of seeing the lunar eclipse. The world was sparkling from the hardest frost I'd ever seen, beautiful in the darkness. The sky however, was overcast and there was no sign of any moon, eclipsed or non-eclipsed.

On the way to work, a slew of annoying ads on the radio. It seems to be compulosry to trot out jewellry and perfume ads during the lead up to Christmas, but the jewellry ones are, of course outdated and sexist. As for perfume, do people still buy it? I mean, it's not as though I don't own any, but one is rarely able to wear it these days.

Another radio ad, for some seller of holidays offers same for 'adults or couples'. I mean... have I missed something?

We've been watching 'Once Upon a Time', a series filmed in the posh part of Richmond, Steveston, although confusingly for those who live there, the area now frequently has the sign up that says 'Storybrooke'. Most enjoyable series. We have also been watching 'Grimm'. This, astonishingly, isn't filmed up here. The characters are named in German. I get the wolves, they are called Blutbad, or bloodbath, fair enough, the pigs are Bauerschwein, ok, the three little pigs - farmer pigs, ok, ish, but the rat wranglers, 'Reinigen'? 'To clean'? No, you've lost me I'm afraid. Still, mostly enjoying the programme.

Cold Comfort

It's astonishing how people are willing to believe in a Mayan prophecy but not in climate change.

And on the subject of believing, from the Guardian...

"The UK government has been accused of being "extraordinarily naive" over tar sands information given to it by Canadian diplomats as part of a lobbying campaign, but which has since been contradicted.
Chris Davies, the MEP who is the Liberal Democrat environment spokesman in the European parliament, told me: "It is extraordinarily naive for ministers and officials to take the special pleading by Canada as though it were gospel truth, rather than what it is - an attempt to protect narrow financial interests."

Gaagh, how embarrassing. 

Happy 25th

Happy Birthday Laurence, 25 today. We've been to Ricky's, we had an ice-cream cake from DQ. All good.

Frat Party

At the weekend, Kevin's frat Christmas party was at our house. People take it in turns to host and this year, well, we offered. Sounds like madness, doesn't it?

In fact, it was incredibly well-organised. The young whippersnapper frats in their best bib and tucker, shirt neatly tucked into trews, ties, nicely polished shoes, came and set up. All the food and drink was provided. The youngsters ran the bar, no-one drank too much, and at the end, the 'pledges' cleared up. It was a sort of rent-a-party. Totes civilised. Who knew?

Hmm, Kevin did, I must admit, this is how he had told me it would be, and it was.

My own part mainly took the form of dog-wrangling. As soon as strangers started arriving, Whisky became insane dog, but I put him in the car and took him for a walk. Er...a drive and then a walk. We have a place we go down by the river, which is normally deserted, but yesterday evening, at twilight, there were more cars driving past than I'd ever seen there before. Followed by a police car.

An elderly Chinese lady wearing a coolie hat was clipping the grass verge with a pair of garden shears. There are no houses there, this was just a random piece of grass verge.
'Cars very fast,' she said.
'Yes,' I agreed, unable to think of anything less anodyne to say in the face of surreality.
But the dog came back calm.

Score

My friend has succeeded in having a sexist advert removed from TV. 

Volkswagen ran an ad that showed a woman in labour being taken to hospital by her male partner. But the paramedic who meets them, is stunned by the amazing car they arrive in and both men are soon engrossed in car worship and ignore the woman. 

My friend filled in the complaints form on VW’s website, pointing out that they had trivialised an event which claims thousands of women’s lives every year. The reply she got was anodyne and grammatically toe-curling. I made a complaint on the website, pointing out that it was also sexist towards men. This is an offensive stereotype that suggests that men are all puerile cretins who don’t care about human life. The e-form barfed back one sentence at me and said this had a syntax error. Kevin said this just meant their server is fracked and you couldn’t really tell whether it was rejecting or giving a receipt. 

Next, my friend e-mailed them again and said that their response was unsatisfactory and that unless they told her they were removing the ad, by a certain date, she would be informing certain newspapers and media. She then received a swift reply saying that the ads were being pulled and that it would take a few days to remove them from all networks.

Booyah. Result, and a good one.

Nicely done.

Scheduling at the Schloss is hectic and for various reasons, I have had to go to the Static on Sunday afternoon and stay over until Monday.

I called in at the Market. A smallish child was hoverin by the pepperdew peppers as I was making towards them.

 ‘Are they very hot?’ She asked.

‘No,’ said I, ‘not at all, they’re quite sweet really.’ Then there was a moment when the unspoken thing hung in the air and we looked at each other.

‘Ok,’ said I, ‘I am British, we have a different scale,’

‘They’d blow my head off, wouldn’t they?’ she asked,

‘No, no, but….’

‘Maybe too much for a seven year-old?’

‘Yep.’

The Abbey

The temperature goes down, it goes up, and now, hopefully, it's back down a touche, Hurrah. Except that the number of road traffic accidents has become horrific. I suppose that's not so much temperature as weather related.

So, on the recommendation of just about everyone back in Blighty, we've started watching Downton Abbey, and I must say, I am rather enjoying it. Thought provoking. And it really holds the key to the English, I wouldn't like to say the British necessarily, but certainly the English.

I find it difficult to appreciate the gravity of the Amish 'haircut attcks'. I know, I know. But to compound it, the leader of the breakaway haircutters is called Sam Mullet.

Mercury's going retrograde now for two weeks. I'll try to stay calm.

Froideur

"I hear those sleigh bells ringing..." yep, already, outside of Superstore, the Sally Ann have stationed a Santa replete with bell.
Inside Superstore, an elderly lady was wearing a tiger-striped fun-fur hat with ears and dangly bits. I feel this is a stroke of genius, it makes seniors seem cute and lovable, which in fact many of them are. 

It's very cold right now, Janis cold. I actually had to put a coat and gloves on today - awesome.

Today, up at the crack of dawn to take Laurence to his forklift training, about a million miles away - a good fifty minute drive at any rate. We actually did watch day break and it was breathtakingly beautiful. Along Route 99, Bald Eagles were sitting in trees, enjoying the morning coldness.
Froideur.

Laurence now has a forklift licence. Good job laddie, made it well worth getting up at 6, driving across Surrey before the world was awake, and then down to chilly Washington State to rescue Kevin and Whisky.

First Snow

Yesterday morning we awoke to snow. Not deep snow, but a fair covering. Whisky was keen to investigate.
Me too.
Gone by this morning.

Crow Flying Backwards

Wild weather at the weekend, rain, torrential rain, get-your-ark-ready rain, and wind. Still windy today, bringing-down-trees wind. And crows flying backwards wind. Backwards flying crow - why isn't there a yoga pose called that? Maybe there is.

Finished 'The Elegance of the Hedgehog'. Alison Anderson, (translator) I did you wrong. The book has been re-translated into US English. I found this out thanks to the function on Amazon.co.uk where you can read inside the book. I searched for 'dime store psychology', the original translation said, 'amateur psychology'. I rest my case. It was a great book.

I'm liking US Prime Suspect. I like Maria Bello's Jane Timony, she's like an updated Christine Cagney, I loved Cagney and Lacey, but I'm peeved that it is called Prime Suspect. It has nothing to do with the original series.

Today was an excellent day, my day off, and Kevin took a day off so that we could spend the day together on our wedding anniversary. And we have had a fab day, doing really quite ordinary things, but together.

And we started the day watching telly in bed - the much recommended Downton Abbey. Excellent.

Rhizomes

Misleading actually, it has been raining a fair bit. Apparently it's going to rain a fair bit more too.

The World Economic Forum's Gender Gap Report for 2011 has just been published. The UK, USA and Canada are huddled together in 16th, 17th and 18th places respectively.
Sheer freaking disgrace for all three. And how is this disgrace being addressed? The usual lip service of course.

Yet two interesting pieces of research could inform us and allow a more spirited campaign to do something real about the situation. In June of this year, Science Daily summarised a study that showed how 'daily acts of subtle sexism' by both women and men, impact the lives of women. But when women were made aware of the 'unseen sexism', such as sexist language, they were more inclined to correct their behaviour, when men were made aware, they didn't see it per se as discriminatory, they needed an extra factor, such as empathy for women or certain women.

At the end of October, another study demonstrated a clear and strong link between the sexism exhibited by individuals and the extent of the gender gap in the society in which those individuals live. Jigsaw pieces falling into place? The subtle and often unseen sexism that is daily perpetuated by individuals, is self-reinforcing and reflected in the size of the gender gap.

Until we properly address what too many think of as 'pet peeves' and annoying whinges rather than the rhizomes of what become human rights issues, this gap will not close. And whilst men have privilege in those three western societies that should be shamefacedly shuffling their feet right now, the reality is that not all men benefit from that Patriarchy. The men who are important in our lives, lovers, sons, fathers, friends, are for the most part good men, good and supportive men who are also the losers in a system where a minority shit on the rest.
This is something that can be achieved by ordinary people for ordinary people.

So why don't we do it?

Twenty-five Hour Day

The clocks have gone back. It's nice to have that extra hour in the morning, but also confusing, in spite of the fact that most of the clocks change automatically.

But then when I took Whisky for his teatime walk, the sun was already setting. The sky was clear and denim blue, kissed with pink at the treeline. The almost full moon was already visible and the colour of platinum.

This weekend we stayed in Canada. Yesterday I had a day of really interesting workshops at a not-particularly local college. Today I pottered, getting my energy channels cleared by doing routine taks that had needed doing for too long. Therapeutic, good. Good for me in any case.

First Frost

Although I don't like that I have to drive to work, there are mornings, like today, when it is compensated by the sheer, jaw-dropping beauty of the mountains and the fields, and the mist and sparkle. It makes the soul soar. Intense.

One of the local mountains had snow, Snowvember? We'll see.

This week's expression de la semaine (see what I did there?) 'not in your/my/her/his wheelhouse'. An odd expression.

November

November.

So, Greece, what a freaking mess, huh? 'Backstabbing, skullduggery and political intrigue...' Well I never. And the formerly rioting citizenry think they are being blackmailed into agreeing to their country being rescued by the EU. Difficult to find any wronged party in it all.

Yesterday I discovered I was eligible for a free flu jab on account of being on blood pressure meds. The pharmacist seemed happy to have a customer, even one getting something for nothing. He offered me a lollipop, I declined, natch.

The Brompton Mix have an agent. Rock and Roll lads, rock and roll.

Samhain

Quarter past six, standing in the dark, watching the film of cloud drift gently over the morning stars. The last morning of October. My routine blood tests were due this month, so that's where I was.

 And the day has turned into a spectacular one, clear skies, and wind that makes me feel part of everything and a strong need to recite,
'O wild, west wind, thou breath of Autumn's being...' and I did. Whisky was dead impressed, so were the trees and the birds. On the phone, later, Alex listened to my recitation and humoured me. Only seven hours between here and there this week, the veil is thinner than usual.


Brightest blessings for Samhain.

At the Static

A weekend at the Static, yes, a weekend. I had Saturday off to make up for working an extra day earlier in the month. AND...a weekend when miraculously, we have internet. This hasn't happened since spring. Makes a difference. You think you want to step outside of the worldwide web, but only until you can't get back in.



I am reading a book that is very enjoyable apart from the sloppy translation that sends us back to the fifties. 'The Elegance of the Hedgehog' is an amazing read, but the gendered language of French does not need to be translated so literally into the ungendered English language. Yes, I know I could probably read it in the original and be less annoyed, but I didn't want to wait three months to have a copy couriered by tortoise from France.



'Flavorwire' (sic) gives us ten U.S. sitcoms that moved women forward. Of course, they are just that, sitcoms, and there are other shows, such as Cagney and Lacey, that really did the business. There are even other sitcoms that showed women as able to think for themselves, such as 'Cybill' and that leads nus right back to Britcoms such as Ab Fab, Girl on Top and The Vicar of Dibley that did the same. There are still programs that get it almost right, Bones for example, but then when you look at this season's offerings,  sometimes women seem so peripheral to everything, you'd think we lived in a different realm, oh wait.....



And at least in the UK, that isn't going to get much better, since 'Bird's Eye View',  a festival that screens films by women, has had to be cancelled due to funding cuts.



British TV presenter, Eamonn Holmes (Irish, but works on British TV), ended an interview with a rape victim who had the presence of mind to deliberately leave evidence at the scene of the crime, the rapist's car, by saying to her, 'well I hope you take taxis now.' Yes, yet again, blame the victim Eamonn, well done, not. Sometimes you've just got to wonder how the person gets the job.

After Dark

Monday night, Skytrain downtown. Walking to my friend's house, Vancouver after dark. City of tents outside the Art Gallery - Occupy Vancouver, the denizens high on something and righteous indignation.

Firefighters practising climbing a ladder while waiting for something to go wrong. Face it, they get called when something goes wrong, but meanwhile send the lads and lasses up high steps into the dark.

A pair of well-fed skunks amble along the pavement, snuffle in the undergrowth. They go undisturbed, people see the stripe, white against the darkness and skirt around them. Not fierce, this pair, they look fluffy and adorable, but when frightened, oh, no-one wants to go there.

Turning onto my friend's street, a dog approaches, on a lead, but with a bicycle's rear light attached to its collar, blinking red as the dog takes its owner for a walk, it too sniffing the foliage.

An ordinary evening in the city that never snores.

Colonel Who?

Who knew that Gadafi's first name wasn't 'Colonel'? Why didn't Noah Webster try to change the spelling of 'Colonel'?
Was Colonel Gadafi actually Fatima Whitbread?
I think we should be told.

When I took Whisky for his walk after I got home from work, three young men were quite openly smoking the stinkiest weed I'd ever smelt. Of course, even living in BC, my experience isn't extensive, but this did smell very strongly. That in itself doesn't warrant comment, but the fact was that each of them then got into a different car and drove off. Kevin had told me the same thing had happened yesterday. If it happens tomorrow, people will be informed.

Bees, Birthday, Band

Finally the leaves.

On Saturday I went to a fundraising event for work. There was a great talk on native bees. I don't understand the passive-aggressive response of some women.
Just like when I used to play Betty Bee, many of the women whooped and clapped when the speaker described the envisceration of the male bees after mating. Alright, not really that passive. Why, in this society, will women still accept being addressed as though they don't exist, and yet they will revel in such detail? Again, when laid out like that, the two do seem to go together.

This has been a week of meetings. Just two, but every evening counts.

My sister's birthday today.

Last Friday, Ben's band played at Indig02, and reports were that it was an amazing gig. Still no video up on YouTube. Their next gig is playing for the after show party of Liam Gallagher's new band.
Rock and roll.

All Over the Map

See if you can do this, I readily admit I was pretty poor at Geography at school, but I think this is more politics than Geography, and it still took me a while.

During the course of my researches today, I discovered this little piece of distress. If you remind women that breast cancer is a disease that predominantly affects women, then they are less likely to donate to cancer research, if you make it more gender neutral by, ooh, disassociating it from the colour pink, then they are more inclined to donate. Yes, women hate being reminded that they are women. Either that, or secretly, they really do hate pink. The men who love them are far more forgiving though.