Canadian Military to do Yoga?

I said I wouldn't get political, I lied. This post is in response to this clip from Fox's News Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcJn5XlbSFk

Okay, first of all...who the hell is Greg Gutfeld?? There IS a reason why he hosts a late night talk show folks (and by late night, I mean the wee hours of the morning where the only people who are likely to be paying attention are insomniacs and recreational drug users, kidding.) Mr. Gutfeld graduated from UC Berkley in 1987 and got his big break as editor in chief for Men's Health Magazine. He then moved on to such fine editorial works as Stuff Magazine (where he was fired) and Maxim UK. In February of 2007 the Republican pony boy "Fox News" decided to give this 'qualified' journalist his own segment..at 3am. The Red Eye News Segment is supposed to be a satirical look at news headlines, gossip and sports and for some reason the Canadian Military and its involvement in the US LED Iraq "war" is comical enough for Greg to take a jab. And the ignorance ensues...

He begins the segment by chastising our Lt. General Andrew Leslie for having "an unusual name for a man". The name Leslie is of Scottish/Gaelic origin and was the name of a rather prominent Scottish Clan in the 18Th century. The name Leslie was originally used as a BOY's name and it was only after it was adopted by the Americans that the name first started appearing on female birth certificates. Lt. General Leslie's official title is "chief of the land staff and commander of the land forces command of the Canadian force". This is a decelerated man in Canadian history who has demonstrated far more patriotism and dedication to his country than gutfeld ever did working for a second rate titty magazine.

He continues to say that Canada's military wants to "take a breather to do some yoga, paint landscapes, run on the beach in gorgeous white Capri pants"...and asks one of his 'expert' comedian panelists to comment on the issue, asking him "isn't this a good time to invade Canada? They have no army" to which the comedian replies "I thought that's where you go if you don't want to fight?" What would you call 60,000 active soldiers and 20,000 reserves? Clearly gutfeld hit the nail on the head, we obviously have no army. So why haven't they ever invaded? Ohhh wait...that's right, they tried. Once. The forgotten war of 1812 where the United States failed miserably at capturing Canada.

It blows my mind to think that here we are sacrificing innocent Canadian soldiers lives for a war created and sustained by the United States and Gutfeld has the audacity to paint a satirical picture of our nations peacekeeping efforts.

Let's take a look at the war shall we;
President George W. Bush Jr stated the reasons for the invasion of Iraq as being a)Iraq used chemical and biological weapons b)Iraq tried to build nuclear weapons and Iraq, apparently, had a long history of lying to the nations even after W. senior attempted to bring it into the 'family of nations' circle.
A couple years and hundreds of lives later, the George Bush Administration decided that this was no longer a war to disarm a nation, but more to 'free' a nation of terrorism and tyranny.

Gutfeld continues, by calling the United States the "greatest country in the universe". Oh wow. He just went there. Okay, so where do I start? If a country's worth is measured in patriotic ignorance than I would say that the United States is indeed a great nation. The united nations released their 'best places to live' list for 2008 and it goes as follows;

1. Iceland
2. Norway
3. Australia
4. Canada
5. Ireland

Where does the United States fall? 12th. So apparently the UN disagrees with the Gutfeld and that is good enough for me.

So next the camera pans over to the douchebag with the loosend tie(I didn't bother researching his name)who asks Gutfeld if he is at all suprised by this. He then goes on to make comparisons between their police forces and the RCMP.
"We have police officers and they have mounties. Our cops ride (in) heavily armoured cars, they ride horses. We have bullet proof vests, they have wonderful red jackets that can be seen from a mile away, this is not a smart culture Greg."

Clearly this guy is a genius, no really brilliant! His words are clearly a reflection of a smart culture. We refer to our Mounties as 'police officers', they wear bullet proof vest and ride around in police issued cars. The traditional uniform for the mountie is a red serge, these are no longer worn in active duty. Back to the horse reference, the NYPD - do they not ride horses? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Then blonde opens her mouth, as almost to 'excuse' Canada's actions. We are up here where it is fridgid and cold, which apparently has something to do with why Lt.Gen Leslie made his statement. Cold. Right. Those polar ice caps at the border are a bitch, eh? Give me a break!

The longer the Americans continue thinking that we need them, the better. I mean I would be ignorant to say that we didn't, everyone needs allies. But this group of geniuses even went as far as to say that we are merely following in Europe's footsteps and relying on the United States. As long as we allow them to think that they are the greatest nation in the world then we have no problems. My entire beef with this segment, be it satirical or not, is simple. We are dealing with lives here, men and women of every nationality from almost every nation risking their lives so that you and I can live and breath. I just think that its really unfourutnate that Gutfeld chose to even walk down this path as he sits at his New York home blogging frantically. Next time, I would like to encourage Gutfeld to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. I wouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions and point the finger when you don't have that right - Grab a gun Greg, kiss your family good bye and come talk to me after your second tour. Not so funny anymore, is it?

Rush Hour...

So sitting on the bypass on the way home from work the guy in front of me slams on his brakes. Thankfully I am far enough behind him that I didn't have to slam on my brakes, but I was concerned that the guy behind me might not be able to JUST slam on his brakes to slow down. Thankfully he comes to a screeching stop, not .002 seconds later I see the truck behind him SLAM into his rear end. A Big puff of smoke and fluid shot into the warm spring air. Rear-ender. Bad one.

Due to the construction genius of the highway/by-pass road planners, there is no where for me to pull over, let alone slow down. Rush hour traffic-ers are a rare breed, we wouldn't stop if there was a half naked man dancing on your roof....well, maybe you'd stop for that...okay, so I would too....moving on. The POINT is, I didn't stop for a car accident that I clearly witnessed! Okay, so before you come at with me with torches and pitchforks, I did exercise my right to phone 911.

Something about calling 911 is super bad ass, cause the operators ask you all sorts of important ques ions. Right away my blackberry beeped cause it recognized that I was calling an emergency number, then a woman in solid and calm voice asked me "police. fire or ambulance?" to which I replied with the same solid calm tone "police" and the name of the city. I was transferred right away to the local federal police service "911 what is your emergency?" I explained the story as accurately as I could. "okay thank you, we will phone you back if we need any more information." boo-ya, mission accomplished.

So then I was feeling sorry for all of the people who are travelling one of the main arteries of our fair city in rush hour traffic. Then I thought about all the times I had sat in rush hour traffic ..."haha, suckers." Not even thirty seconds later, I come around a corner and BOOM rush-hour traffic!

When you know that you're going to be stuck in traffic your blood starts to boil. It gets to a point where every bone in your body wants to start flipping off people with veteran plates just because there is one in front of you. You calm yourself down as best as possible, because like a rational person you realize that this has nothing to do with the veteran, its the damn semi-truck in front of him! Bloody semi's they always let people in front of them in traffic, cause they're so darn slow its like nails on a chalkboard. "Why in the HELL is he in the fastlane?!"

So you turn on the radio, a local radio that brags about how they broadcast nothing but traffic updates 24/7. Just not now apparently cause you're bring forced to listen to a commerical about some seniors home opening up for sale in kelowna, then you remember how much you HATED "veteran plates"!! Then you remember about the semi as you finally hear that there's been an accident on the road up ahead that stalling rush hour traffic. You cringe at the word "accident" but punch your steering wheel and swear when you hear five little words "fast lane. 3 car. fatality. DAMMIT! You calm yourself down, but the frustrating resentment you have for rush hour suddenly gets turned into guilt when you start blaming the members of the fatality for anything. As patiently as you can you ride out the traffic to the sight of the accident, as calmly as you can..clinging to the bumper in front of you. You may have to sit in traffic, but NO ONE is getting in front of you.

95% of the reason why traffic slows down substantially when there is a car wreck is because people are m-o-r-b-i-d! It doesn't take long for the emergency officials to clear the highway of any obstruction, even if its only one lane open. The traffic has some kind of flow, yet you're not moving. Do you know why? Of course you do! You do it all the time, you stare at the accident as you drive by, and choose to do 5 km/hr when you do so!

Once you move past the accident, its like a breathe of fresh air. The traffic is moving, people are paying attention to driving finally - kinda like being let off a leash into a open meadow. You smile at 'veteran plates' as you drive by but glare at the semi driver who hasn't moved out of the fast lane yet.

Traffic would be so much easier for everyone if people just did things like...oh...I don't know...shoulder checked...merge with the flow of traffic?....used their signals?......didn't change lanes in an intersection? didn't slam on their brakes in the snow or rain, turned their lights ON, kept up with the flow of traffic in the fast lanes, didn't tailgate and if everyone who HAVE driver's licenses were the only ones on the road...who am I kidding. Rush hour will forever be that thorn in my side, one removed only by changing jobs. hmm.

The Magestic Grizzly

So the other day I was flipping through the channels, you know..bored out of my skull and living vicariously through the bright colours and broken premises created by a television. Amidst my frantic flipping, I came across a program dedicated to dispelling the wild myths surrounding the Grizzly bear. The subject of their experiment was the Alaskan Grizzly, notoriously the most dangerous mainly because they have not been confronted with the harsh realities of the industrialized world and they roam free across the vast Alaskan mountains never really running the risk of bumping into humans.

The researchers were trying to determine if the six grizzly-related deaths in a certain state park were the result of humans startling the bears and the bears...being...well, bears... turning and attacking to defend their territory OR if the bears were actually hunting the humans as a possible source of food. The evidence they presented for either argument was the mere fact that of the six dead, four of the bodies had been partially consumed, leading to the conclusion that the bears considered them food all along. And of course the two of the six that were merely "slightly maimed" were the result of the bears exercising their rights to protect their territories from "threatening predators".

The thing I found the most hilariously entertaining was how they went about conducting the experiments. Picture this. A grown man (our researcher) locked in a 6ft by 4ft plexiglass "predator" box. Latched at the top with about 6-10 holes in the sides and top for ventilation purposes. Before our brave researcher, and narrator, locks himself in this predator shield, he lays out a variety of food on chopped wood in front of him to see which foods would be more attractive to the Grizzlies. There are 6 things to choose from - Log # 1 contains large oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies, Log #2 contains 3 Costco size honey-nut muffins, Log #3 contains 2 Red Delicious Apples, Log #4 contains one whole salmon, Log #5 contains 3 hot dog wieners and Log #6 A generous helping of trail mix.

It takes about an hour for a Grizzly to appear. He is a large male, he saunters slowly towards the logs and our researcher. He looks as though he had just woken up for some kind of nap, seemingly unfazed by the 200lbs of human being $0.50 metal latches and 1/4" of plexiglass. When he reaches the food selection he bee-lines for the salmon, as he bends his head forward to bite into the salmon, he notices the hot dog wieners, looks back and the salmon and sits down. He then notices that there is an entire buffet set out for him. He is completely ignorning the human and the camera at this point, with a look on his face like "well hollly shiiit...food...". He sits back and carefully collects his thoughts, eventually deciding to go for the hot dog wieners. Watching a grizzly trying to manipulate a hot dog wiener in his GIANT paws is much like watching an elephant trying to peel a banana. Eventually he manages to get the hot dog wieners in his mouth and sticks his nose in the air and makes two "uhn, uhn" noises and two females come barreling down the hill towards the feast.

The first of the females sees the fish and runs for it. In one sweeping motion she snatches the fish off the log and runs just as quickly into the dense Alaskan brush. The male bear, still sitting on his rear, swings his head casually to the side and looks in her direction almost as if to mutter under his breath.."bitch."

The second female is patient. While the first female was quick, the second female has taken the time to realize that she has options and is calculating carefully which log she will feast on. She makes a slow movement towards the muffins. The male pushes her back. Seemingly unfazed, she tries again to head for the muffins, the male actually pushes her so hard she is forced the the ground behind him. Still sitting, the male wiggles his bum around so his back is to her, but so that he is blocking her access to the logs containing, the cookies, the muffins and the apples. Left with only the trail mix, she growls as if to say "what the hell is your problem!?". The male leans forward and frantically gobbles up the cookies. She protests even further, "umm...what about me?" The male leans down and samples some of the muffin and some of the apple. It is obvious that he decides that his best option is the muffin and as he leans in to enjoy his honey-nut treat, he casually flicks back one of the apples in her direction..."you can have this one AND the trail mix." The female sits down in defeat, smells the trail mix and munches on the apple...ultimately giving in to his whims. No fighting. Not one word...except maybe a silent sigh and a rolling of her eyes...as she mutters under her breath.."Jerk."

Unhealthy Relationships

Okay. So this is my first attempt at blogging. I keep a journal, but what better way than to keep an online journal? A personal account of the hilarity's I experience on a daily basis, personally documented, just between me and the Internet.

If the land of 'unhealthy' relationships needed representation, I am pretty sure I'd be their Queen. I wouldn't even need schooling or training. I knew it was bad when I was expressing unrest about a certain man in my life we will call...mmm..."Jem" to my mother the other day, without even mentioning his name. She met my unrest with laughter and that know it all attitude that mothers have come to earn over the course of their lives. "Upset about Jem are we?" to which I replied in almost shock, "yeah, how did you know?" She chuckled to herself again and said "because you always like the ones that are bad for you" hunh. RED FLAG!

So why do I like this boy? Obviously my mother's intuition is based in some fact and as I am begging to move forward I feel like I am stuck in an emotional rut. Like I was out off roading and some big mud puddle caught my attention, I gear down and drive violently for the puddle. I am excited, anxious and curious. I hit the puddle, mud flies everywhere but the truck is stuck. fuck. I try as hard as I can to get "un-stuck" reverse, drive, reverse. Until finally I realize my 33" tires are no match for the ruts that obviously require 46" super swampers...awesome. I've gone an driven head first into a murky absolute without doing any prior research...story of my life.

The physical attraction is unparalleled. The characteristics he displays reminds me of this journal entry I made after I got my heart stomped on the first time. I admire his ability to fix things, build things and the fact that he is, above all else, a belching, farting, beer drinking, football watching, prideful man. For some odd reason, these characteristics appeal greatly to me. He approaches everything in life with this ignorance that is so arrogant its attractive. Nothing in his life is unachievable, nothing is insurmountable, his standards for his life and the goals he has set are totally do-able in his minds eye. I admire the simplicity of his character, it leaves little room for error or mis-understanding. Jem is, by all accounts, the perfect example of a stereotypical man and I love everything about it.

Unfortunately for Jem, he approaches love with the same ignorance. Maybe its his child-like innocence when discussing relationships that makes the 'mother bone' in me twitch in endless pleasure. Something about his innocence makes me want to protect him, guide him and take care of him. Any second I get the sense that he is going to hand me a note at recess with the question "will you go out with me? Check one; Yes. No. Maybe." At 23 years old, my heart will flutter like a catholic school girl who's just be shown a naked man for the first time.

Okay, so there was a reason for the Catholic school girl analogy. Jem, is religious. I have no problem with organized religion. I was never raised to follow the 'word of God/Jehovah/Jesus' I have never even attended church for mass. I was never baptised. Jem is completely aware of this. And thus is the stake that keeps us apart.

I am going to walk a very fine line here and I am going to choose my words very carefully. Fact of the matter is, I will never be pure as the driven snow. Nope, I lost my purity some hazy February afternoon to a man I thought I would love forever. If I could go back and slap my 16 year old self, I most certainly would. Armed with the information I know now. This man doesn't love you, this "man" haha...this "BOY"! I can't change the past.

So for Jem I feel like I am this silhouette of sin, something standing at the back of a smokey bar. Every now and then the fluorescent strobe lights catches a glimpse of my tail or the glimmer of my horns (I left my tri-fork in the car) and he's entranced. Something so easily attainable, yet so unbelievably forbidden its enchanting. Slowly I make my way ac cross the room, step by step. He begins to perspire and he begins to salivate as he throws caution to the wind and puts "religion" out of his mind for an hour. He knows he will suffer later, sort of comparable to doing cocaine recreationally. You know you probably shouldn't touch it, but what's one line or nine in the scheme of things. You know you will pay for it later, as you lay in bed at noon having not slept at all since the night before, questioning everything in your life with anxiety and paranoia - why did you do this? Guilt will inevitably follow, your mother's voice inside your head "now you've done it, now you've gone too far".

There is no doubt in my mind that I am merely a pleasant distraction for Jem. Something to take his mind off of his life for a little while. He knows he has to go back to his life soon, but he doesn't need to think about that as he is lost in this forbidden amusement park, overloading his senses with this simple rush. He will struggle with this later, he will fight these thoughts soon and he knows it. He will forever be caught between what he's been taught is "right" and what he "wants". Family guy put it best (to the tune of 'if you're happy and you know it) If you're happy and you know it, that's a sin - If you're happy and you know it that's a sin.

I remain caught in his little web of confusion. Back to my muddy rut. Throw her into to drive and feel the tires spin under me, I am moving, but unfortunately its merely the tires digging deeper and deeper into the mud on the puddle's floor. Until then, my phone will ring at 2am and it will be Jem drunk or nearly drunk...drunk...already committing one sin...why not phone her and make it birdie? Throw it in reverse, sink, sink, sink...soon I will realize that my attempts at freeing my truck are pointless, eventually I will bring myself to change my current situation. So until the day comes when I am so depressed by my efforts that I actually decide to get out of my truck and call to be pulled out of my muddy existence...I remain stuck, with all my wheels spinning yet going no where fast.