Saturday, December 12, 2009


B.C. has renamed the Queen Charlotte Islands.

The new name is Haida Gwaii.

This is fine with me.

But I admit I am a little nervous that sooner or later, someone will figure out that Captain Vancouver was sailing the ship "Tiger Woods," and may not have been the best fellow after whom cities should be named.

The only thing is will I ever learn how to say 'lyxwuwuwhakqulatchi-;ploutz?

Arrested Development

When will the border patrols, U.S. and Canadian, figure out the difference between vocal protesters and terrorists?

The latter are quiet and sneaky and under cover. They don't want you to know them until after the bomb goes off.

The protesters are right out there.

When will the border patrols, both sides, understand that protest and dissent are a central part of what makes a modern liberal democracy superior to fascism and its many cousins?

Or is all of this too much to ask of people who are "just doing their jobs?"

Olympic critic denied entry to U.S.; says she was interrogated for hours

Marla Renn was heading south to speak at anti-Olympic events



Gary Mason, always readable, has contributed an interesting piece this morning about Carole Taylor possibly being the replacement for His Meanness.

With alternatives like Rich Coleman and Kevin Falcon, two bulldozers cut from the same cruel cloth as the Preem, you bet!

Mason offers that Taylor is the kind of fiscal conservative that the corporate community loves. He adds that "she was also seen as a left leaning democrat on social justice issues."

I resist these kinds of categorizations.

For my money, it' simply this.

Carole Taylor is blessed with a drop or two of the milk of human kindness.

Which makes her distinctly different from the current Iceman in charge, who most days seems by his decisions and his priorities to lack even something approaching decency.

Art Two

Last Monday, I wrote in this pace about my two favorite all-time art hoaxes - video and installations.

Now I am pleased to introduce you to one of the richest and most successful pullers of the wool of all time.

His name is Michael Snow and his entire oeuvre (OUCH! Dat hoits!) is video and installation.

In a review this morning, a gushing wet-panties writer tells us that "the crowning achievement in Michael Snow's new show is a 45-minute film of a curtain blowing in the wind. And believe it or not, you'll want to sit and watch the whole thing."

Well, I have a shocker for you, Sarah.


I won't.

I'll be watching my own 46-minute film of a cat named Billy licking his paws.

The odd thing is I can't seem to get any of my friends to sit down with me and watch it.

I've offered popcorn.


It's not Copenhagen