our local save-on wants you to be gay and eat bananas
also…. good news from the USSC
MAILED IT TODAY June 10 when Jeff and I went for a walk. Then we ordered pizza and watched Time Team.
June 9, 2020
Superintendent of Schools
Board of Education
Burnaby School District 41
5325 Kincaid Street
Burnaby BC V5G 1W2
Dear Ms. Nicoli-Moen,
Please listen to your Black and Indigenous students and remove the RCMP from their current roles, including attending career days, in Burnaby schools.
<—– my request
I would support this action as a Burnaby voter, parent of two former School District 41 students who commented frequently on racial tension at their school, and politically curious person who is speculating why it is that everyone on the senior management team of your organization is white, when Burnaby is not a majority white city.
<—– my cred, with a boot to the ass in the last sentence and there’s NO FUCKING WAY I’m telling you which school, although ten bucks says someone who reads this letter checks the records
With my hopes you and your loved ones will stay safe during the pandemic,
<—– despite my distaste for cops in schools, I bear you no personal ill will
Now I have to print it and find an envelope and sign it and post it so this is a draft until I actually move
she gets a star trek stamp, I’m thinking JANEWAY … fuck I love myself sometimes ha ha used Sisko instead
so allegra has been arguing for the decertification of police unions and the stripping of pension funds for quite a while.
In the UPSUN books, when the elders formally get the land back, they have already brought the Vancouver Police Department to its knees.
- they’ve presented the VPD with a much abbreviated code of conduct and a list of all the infractions which are actually supposed to be attended on by the police hint hint it doesn’t line up with the CCofC (the sixers stole all the private police documents about disciplinary hearings and community relations, too and published them on the main sixer site, so the cops start off their relationship with Stô:Lō on their back foot)
- a lot of cops left town at the hand-off…. they saw the writing on the wall. between 1/4 million people fleeing the lower mainland convinced that the takeover will ruin the city (besides destroying their investments) and the news that violent cops will be disciplined, much yeeting occurs. which means there are fewer police
- they’ve instituted dismissal proceedings for every cop with a misconduct complaint involving custodial and domestic violence, stalking, racism, sexism, homophobia and misuse of public funds, and you get two flavours of dismissal; one involves getting your police pension, and the other involves trying to sue the city, in which case you don’t get your pension and you get fired, ha ha ha. NEXT!
- Even if you aren’t dismissed, you have to RESWEAR YOUR OATH OF OFFICE to the people of Stô:Lō, NOT THE QUEEN, NOT THE ELDERS
- Most police are disarmed. They have pepper spray and truncheons, and thasssallll folks. Armed police must requalify every sixty days and stay clean as a whistle in terms of public complaints. Police are not required to carry weapons. Police not carrying weapons who are injured in the course of their duties get all medical expenses, no questions asked.
- All police have their names, stations, photos in AND out of uniform and badge numbers available to the public for reference purposes (the idea of a perp book for cops was too delicious to resist)
- The pension plan is now controlled and directed outside of Canada so the feds can’t fuck with it (Iceland, gotta love Iceland).
- Police are no longer required to wear full uniforms to work. They need a hat and a badge for identification. (beaded badges come into fashion, and indicate various things about the specific police)
- Police are allowed to take second jobs, mostly training cops from other police forces about how to deal with sixers. They are not allowed to provide security services for pay, though.
- There are number of places, including the expanded Chinese embassy grounds, where the cops don’t go.
- AND OF COURSE, if you want to complain about it, you get to go to the Justice Longhouse of Stô:Lō, where two of the judges are elders and one of them is a sixer, and court runs 24/7 and you have to stay put until your case is called, and there are no lawyers who understand how the court works who aren’t Indigenous, so best of colonial luck with that, pal.
so this is northbound on 8th in New West where it crosses 10th and this is one of the most dangerous intersections in the city so whyyyyy?
via Mary Hui, Hong Kong graffiti: “We can’t return to normal, because the normal that we had was precisely the problem.”
after a somewhat jostled trip downtown (travelling during rush hour being a real commitment for me these days) I joined Tammy for a lovely meal at Homer and then a wonderful walking tour of “Forbidden Vancouver” which Tammy also underwrote. I took the stool so I could sit down whenever; Tammy used it as well.
Nothing like standing at the epicentre of a race riot to help you get a grip on things.
After we hung out and I looked at pics of her vacays to places like New Orleans at Christmas (lovely light displays at night) and Fiji – my god, the guest house was set in a spectacular garden – and Sydney.
Then I went home, took a taxi from Edmonds.
And, apart from Jeff accompanying me on food to D Roti Shak, which supplied all of our meals yesterday, and a couple of shows I SLEPT ALL DAY YESTERDAY.
Katie’s here! Brekky time
Later – life sucks but I have friends and furthermore leftovers
I’m crying. Why wouldn’t I be.
This is a fucking tragedy, and it was all triggered by workmen. I’ll bet anything there were safety shortcuts forced onto them by the construction management company.
later…. 52 acres of primeval oak forest was taken down for the pillars
Since I can’t actually talk about anything that I really want to comment on regarding my week away (and I’m okay with that, for the most part) I’ll talk about the stuff I can talk about.
1. Egil’s a jackass. Read the Sagas of the Icelanders if you want to know why.
2. I do miss the physical place, Toronto, rather more than I expected to, and returning to Vancouver gave me a lot of strange feelings. I have to go past all my stomping grounds on the way out of town.
Or perhaps work is not all that exciting. I fucking hate it when workers don’t check their pagers and don’t call in to ask why they haven’t been paged in four hours.
3. I seem to have broken my fanfic addiction. Of course, I don’t feel like writing anything at the moment, but that will change once I have characters working in my head again. I think I learned what I needed to. I’ll finish the two projects at some point but I’m no longer worried about it.
4. U2 ON FRIDAY. I have something to look forward to!!!!
5. It was absolutely lovely to see all of the Jewish men walking up and down Bathurst as I took the bus out of town. I only saw Bubbies, no Zadies.
6. LOST MY CHEESE at a friend who keeps using the word gypsy. I’ve told her not to before, but this time I just slammed it down and then backed off. Yes there are American Roma who accept the word, but that’s on them; every person of Roma descent I know personally has specifically asked me never to use it and to call it out in people who use it, however the fuck they employ it.
7. The transit in Toronto is so superior to what we get in Vancouver that I’m really annoyed about it. Cheaper, better, faster. It took me less than two hours to get from Bathurst and Sheppard to the airport, on a Saturday. The airport express was just sitting there waiting for me. ALMOST got off at the wrong terminal but managed to leap back onto the same bus and save myself a lot of trouble.
8. The new front loading washer is quite nice, and very efficient. IT WAS ALSO DISGUSTINGLY FILTHY which as brOJeff says, you can fix, versus it being mechanically subpar.
9. NEVER FLYING AIR CANADA AGAIN. I know that flying passes gave me a bad feeling, but after the last experience trying to get out of Vancouver I know that is something I will never be obliged to go through again.
10. This is going to be a bit of a lean month, since I will not be paid for the time I took off. I’m okay with this but I may not be able to help people who need it.
11. Still having happy feelings about the beginning of the week when Little E talked to me again and walked up and down on me with his little hot feet.
12. Slept all but four hours of my time off today. I am almost recovered from my visit and travelling and the dryness; one of the reasons I was sleeping while I was gone so much is that my eyes were so dry I could hear them as I opened and shut them. I did use drops but that’s not always useful for long.
13. I think I’ll go in early and treat myself to a meal at Browns.
14. This means goodbye for now!
Got into a beatdown with a bunch of one of the most self-righteous pot activists (like there’s another fucking kind) on twitter today.
Come ON I smoke, but I don’t smoke and blow smoke in the faces of the allergic and the elderly, and they’re announcing it’s their RIGHT, because this is VANCOUVER, home of TOLERANCE. Yeah I’ll believe that when Canada gives back the unceded lands, you unregenerate failure of logic. I’m like a homophobe for harshing their mellow. Srsly. Got accused of equivalency to homophobia for objecting to people dousing the entire west end in pot smoke for their stupid fucking 420 festival (which leaves heaps of trash mounded everywhere and they’re all cryface because they didn’t get a fucking permit.) F*ck me!
I realized that when you put asterisks in f*cking swearwords you’re putting a leedle asshole right in the meedle of the word and since when you’re swearing there’s usually an asshole involved, it’s mesmerizingly poifect.
I love Buster, he’s an amazing cat. And he loves me too, I know it. I don’t think Miss Margot cares if I live or die, but Buster does.
My latest piece of fanfic smut has more than five hundred likes (it’s cute and hot, so there)
I’ve written a BDSM scene in the same ‘verse but I’m not happy with it yet. I had to put in about 200 words about how the scene is ‘necessary but non-consensual’ which kinda blows (or not!) since scenes need consent if they’re to resonate with me writing, at all. So it’s like “We’ve talked about this – I hate it when you want me (and need me) to top you but I’m s’posed to read your mind – and topping when you’re angry at your partner is a bad bad bad idea” followed by “Do what ya gotta, man, just hit me really hard.” Oh, and there are minor children in the house while this sh*t’s going down, just to make it even more like real life, and our heroes must deal with the domestic consequences of Daddies fighting. I LOVE A CHALLENGE. After all, continuing to have interesting sex after kids *is* a continuing challenge in real life. People want carefree smut? they can look elsewhere; to me smut always has a cost. Who bears it depends on who’s being responsible, or not.
Not that anybody wants to know, but I’m really not into any of those behaviours in real life. Nagging at volume is sort of where I max out, ask any of my exes.
Continuing to have the poly life discussion with someone. It’s painful. Really painful. I feel like I have my nose up again a particularly interesting window. I can smell bread baking. But no. G*ddamned heteronormative uncommunicative bushwah (on their end, not mine.) But at the same time there’s NO F*CKING POINT to becoming an elder if you don’t understand that real life takes time, opportunities for growth don’t wait, and if you don’t consider who’s going to be impacted by your decisions, your years, your grey hairs and and your learning means squat. I am still 22 in some corner of my persona, for my enthusiasms still have all the joy of my youth; I just can’t write everyone affected by my behaviour out of the script any more. I do from time to time, but not all the time.
Fortunately, since I’m pushing 60 with a broom, I can contemplate my greed like the gorram caged bear that it is. Still here, but not running the show.
Katie is still having a rough time and she and Alex are both sick again.
I am not having a rough time. I feel pretty good, all things considered. I have another two weeks of full time work. If that changes, I’ll deal with it. I actually have a plan to deal with it that I think will make almost everyone happy, at least temporarily.
Rogue One is a fucking fantastic movie. Getting eaten by Disney was the best thing that ever happened to the franchise.
Now to check if my money transfer has come through.
It’s a .38 special for me, thanks. Fits my hand and my accuracy is good. Menfolks had fun too. 65 bucks poorer, I emerged.
Today I have a 30 year old child. WITAF???
Dallas. Black mens’ names. Grief and rage.
This is what I’m doing about it.
- Here is How To Make a Police Complaint in BC.
- I (time will tell) gave money to BLM:Van
- I am not forgetting that EVEN THOUGH Canada still has a ‘racial problem’ regarding black people, (most seriously in Toronto and Nova Scotia, but definitely elsewhere) first and foremost settlers have a FIRST NATIONS racial problem, and so I continue my anti-racism work around Land:Language:People which is my short form construction of the work that needs to happen for a more equitable and intelligent sharing of the land we call home with the peoples who lived here first. (The number of FN activists who want all settlers (‘whites’) gone is vanishingly small compared to those who want to kill the Indian Act, formalize their borders and do something about clean water, sound education and health care for their peoples.)
- My antiracism work is being quoted and passed around on social media. I don’t even care if it’s attributed to me if it helps push the peanut.
- I am calling out famous white people on social media when they say something racist, while owning my involvement/complicity with racial systems and institutions. One finger points forward, the other three point back.
- I’m leaving racist family members out of this work. It’s mostly for me, and other people who want to pry the lid off their unwitting selves. I make no excuses and I take comfort in what POC activists have said to me on the subject of having racist relatives. Intersectionality has many dead ends.
- I don’t drag my poor dead ex-husband to any street parties hoping for anti-racism cookies. It’s just a variant of the “some of my best friends…” argument and did I mention he’s dead? Since he can’t defend himself or me, I’ll leave him in the peace of his grave, and spare his bereaved family the notion that some white clownbag married to one of their relatives 30 odd years ago is trying to score points from prior association with him. This will be the last time I mention him in this context, since I prefer to think of him listening to art rock and writing poetry and being settled in a chair with cats draped all over him and making wry comments, than sighing heavily while delivering Negroes 101, as he was forced to do many times during our brief (2 year) marriage.