New Frontier

In searching for a Marxist magazine called New Frontier and the poet Dorothy Livesay who contributed to it, I received the following, in an early hit from google:

Laser Angioplasty: Exploring a New Frontier. James J. Livesay, M.D.. Cardiovascular Surgery.

…indeed. Yup. Thanks for that google.

Reading a report from 1970 written by Greater Vancouver Regional District Planning Dept called The Lower Mainland’s Economy: Trends and Prosects. Have just noticed a massive bloodstain that covers the top quarter of the spine. Hmmm.

Thoughts?

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It appeared to take a mere few days for the govt to order an investigation into the killing of a hundred dogs by a private enterprise, while the murdered women, who it should be noted continue to be murdered (4 in the same period of public outcry over the working dogs who were slaughtered) took how long? Years and years and years.

What is the difference in this response, is it the ferocity of public outcy, that when people demonstrate vocal concern their govt responds — if so why do people continue to accept the murder of (mainly) aboriginal women? There’s some sort of inherent, passive acceptance of these women’s deaths. And if they wish to understand the mistreatment of animals they might begin with some of the more glaring inequalities in the way we treat humans.

There were two young Native women (17) murdered in this province the same week that the dogs were killed. Their stories were dwarfed by the dog outcry.  When is the govt going to announce a task-force to examine the targeting of young women, and to actively excavate the kinds of fragilities and circumstances that young women in marginalized communities face. I mean on the ground today, not in a courtroom after the fact.  Another recent news story involving the deaths of two young Native women in Vancouver on the same night illustrates an urgent need for this.

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For the past two weeks I have been doing most of my thinking in “collaborative space”.

Generally I do more of my thinking than I ever realized in what I’ll call “collaborative space”.

I do a lot of chit-chatting in public places to people I don’t know, but who I come to know something of to varying degrees. Sometimes I think I know people I don’t know because I am very poor at distinguishing faces and in thinking this I have sometimes come to know them because they happened to be uniquely responsive, rather than flustered by the stranger misidentifying them.

I inherited this tendency towards chit chatting from my mother. She is a very helpful woman who always inquired after people if they were upto something interesting or looked like they needed help, she would not watch a person struggle, she’d have the other handle of the bag lifted.  She also has a ripe sense of humour and would banter into the sunset if there was such a thing where she lives. Thus her banter isn’t contained by controlled social gathering and familiarity. In this regard she is the most liberated person I know. She could literally talk to any man or woman any place about any thing. And if there wasn’t a man or woman to talk to she’d still be fine. I think she could have a rich exchange with the branch of a tree.

When I think of the way my mother moves through life it reminds me of Joe Strummer’s line “without people you’re nothing.”

During these past two weeks, without people I’d a been nothing.

Neuro coptor

I am not encouraged that the combination of wearing an “I love Elvis” teeshirt and eating rollmops has done anything to quell the neurological helicopter of this eighth day of suffering severe vertigo.

Today’s offering to neuroscience. Close the refrigerator and hands off those discarded tee shirts with pink hearts.

This cbc link encourages me to watch and listen to discover

Vancouver 125

Events that shaped Vancouver’s neighbourhoods

I am auditory ready and visually attentive, I click and prepare for the events that shaped the street beneath my feet.

Sorry, we can’t find the page you requested.

1. Please check the URL in the address bar, or …
2. Use the navigation links at left to explore our site, or …
3. Enter a term in the Quick Search box at top, or …
4. Visit our site map page

I have taken the decision to step outside into my neighbourhood and speculate on the events that shaped it rather than navigate the cbc webmap which reads “can’t find my way home” (as the song goes.)

Mortality

A Frontline investigation into pathologists, perhaps should be subtitled The Dead Don’t Vote or Give Us a Clue.