Spotted from our balcony:
Posts Tagged ‘ drinking ’
Spotted from our balcony:
I know I’ve written about that hateful little troll, Toronto Sun’s Sue-Ann Levy, before, but now that the one man that could make her forget she’s gay (Rob Ford), has gotten off on a technicality, she is in full-on murder-everyone-who-doesn’t agree-with-you mode.
No, it’s not a “right” or “left” thing, Conservative versus Liberal thing (how did all the “Commies” suddenly become Liberals anyways?!), it’s an asshole versus reasonable human being thing. I mean, if she’s so hot for gambling and prostitutes and all the other crap Ford wants to swaddle the city with, why doesn’t she walk on down to the nearest street corner and spread that musty cavern of hers? Oh, right, it’s because she would have to do what she demands that everyone else do.
Because, you know, there is simply no other way for the government to make money, despite the offensive deposition Ford put everyone through while he was (we can only guess), snorting coke in some back room and completely ignoring everyone’s ideas. I know the coke thing is a rumour, but I’ve had enough experience with drugs to see that this is probably the case — the sweating, the holier-than-thou attitude, the confrontationalism, the ruddy face, etc. Chances of Rob snorting: very high.
Just to be clear, just because he may do drugs wouldn’t necessarily make Rob an awful person (except that he is), but I’m pretty damn sure he should not be holding office under the influence, driving under the influence, etc.
And the “technicality” term being tossed around? People like Levy love to use that word when describing how the mayor snubbed his nose at all the rules and laws of our city multiple times, or how he directly, knowingly, and willfully voted on something directly and monetarily affecting him. Those are “technicalities”, but the fact that Toronto Council wasn’t supposed to have imposed a punishment (hence the loss of the entire case), is not a technicality, that’s JUSTICE!
That’s also precisely how murderers, rapists, and drug dealers get away with it — legal technicalities are a criminal’s best friend.
But, you know, Levy’s just fine with that. People shouldn’t be held to account. Whoring out your daughters is a wonderful future for them. Getting into drinking and gambling, why, that’s practically next to godliness. Shouldn’t be surprising then that this creature passing for a woman would now be chastising Councillor Ana Bailao for her drunken driving charge, right? After all, drinking and gambling is precisely what we want in this town, so anyone who does it should immediately lose their job. (I’m sorry if this is twisting your brain — this is a Ford-lover we’re talking about here)
I happen to agree somewhat, drinking and driving is bad. Somewhat worse than, say, Ford driving while reading, or threatening the lives of passengers on a streetcar by plowing past its open doors, but the Ford-supporter hypocrisy is flying its true, shit-brown colours by defending Ford’s complete lack of regret and remorse (not even a hint of apology or a thought to changing his ways). Bailao drank and drove, potentially endangering many people on the road…the guillotine for her! Ford drove distractedly and dangerously an multiple occasions, unapologetically and directly endangering people on and off the road…oh, he just made a mistake; let’s use tax money and get him a driver!
And this is pretty much the Ford / Harper / etc. camp philosophy in a nutshell. It’s a philosophy that turns on others with the most outrageous slanders, hatred, and vitriol — remember Ford / Cherry’s inaugural speech? Of course, if you call them so much as “silly” they’ll call for your public hanging. They openly and gleefully promote vice, crime, selfishness, greed, money money money, me me me, to the exception of everything else, push on with bullheaded ideas despite any planning or consultation, and are basically oblivious to anything but their own whiny needs. And none of these characteristics are incongruous — these are just simply vile, offensive, pin-headed people. If you want to be nice, “petulant adult-children” works too.
The really sad part is that these people are so blind to basic human concepts like faith, charity, love, and kindness, that they’re willing to forfeit their entire family’s future on a momentary status gain. It’s all about feeding the overly swollen ego — me, me, me! And for some reason, they think that in the groups of selfish, uncaring, self-loving aggressors they move in, that they’re going to achieve some sort of universal love and acceptance from everyone by beating them down, insulting them, and making their lives miserable.
It’s really not that complicated…
Psychopathy: is a personality disorder that has been variously characterized by shallow emotions (including reduced fear, a lack of empathy, and stress tolerance), coldheartedness, egocentricity, superficial charm, manipulativeness, irresponsibility, impulsivity, criminality, antisocial behavior, a lack of remorse, and a parasitic lifestyle.
Okay, so I just made up a word for the title. I think, dear reader, you will find it quite apt toward the end of this series as we get down and gritty with Kensington Market, the motherless whore of Babylon. Alright, maybe not that bad, but still pretty gritty, at least for Toronto.
Before I start, and in case you’re wondering, I keep making these in series simply because I end up with a molehilly mountain of photos that I can’t deliver all in one go (a further bunch sits unused in my “keepers” folder). I would not subject you to a twenty megabyte download, dear reader. That’s rude. If you’re not sure what I’m talking about, let me just say I’m concerned about not abusing your hard-earned time. Especially not with lengthy and, ultimately, completely unnecessary spiels about how I wouldn’t abuse your time. I mean, wouldn’t I be wasting your time by alerting you, in a wastefully lengthy manner, to the fact that I’m trying not to waste your time? Aren’t I doing that right now through the use of excessively wordy questions? And any apology I could offer would now be adding insult to injury because I’m just stretching it out even more? And why am I still going on knowing all of this?
Recursive introspection, it’s not just for breakfast anymore. :D
But the trip to the market did have a bit of a serious note to it though. At least for a little while.
Of course, if you see something like this on the street, it is incumbent on you to stop and gape. So I did.
Dead? Mugged? No, just plain old alkeehol. One reclining woman and one reposed man doing his thing on the warm vent grate. The thing being him being passed out.
Momentarily, a somewhat dishevelled gentleman propped himself up against the wall I was against. He pulled his open coat behind his back with his right hand, his left making a boozily odd angle with the wall, and he leaned in slowly saying, “that’s my woman over there.” “Oh, yeah?”, I replied, partially expecting him to commence the pummeling he was holding at the ready back there for the offense I had just committed (I don’t think the details matter that much when you’re drunk).
Instead, he continued, “yeah, I can’t go over there cuz I’m drunk.” Well now there’s a pickle, isn’t it? What does one do with a statement like that? “Oh yeah?”, I replied.
“Yeah, I’m drunk, and that’s my woman. I can’t go over there right now. Oh shit, they’re not taking her?”
I guess he’d been expecting the emergency crew to gurney her up along with the snoozing dude and get her to a warm place, but she made that one classic mistake that all amateur streetfolk do: sitting up making slurringly idle chatter with the paramedics. Not really an emergency at that point, so no hospital bed.
“Well, at least she’s alright”, I tried to console him. “That’s my woman over there”, he insisted. “Right, I got that”, I nodded back.
The conversation didn’t pick up much after that. But, thankfully, the ambulance packed up and left, so the man was free to lumber back across the street to his woman where, I’m sure, he reminded her that she was his woman. Probably also informed her that he was drunk.
That was my cue and I double-timed it toward Chinatown (and Kensington Market).
Chinatown is also gritty. And I don’t mean the trash, that’s kinda normal. You have the trash, the grimy streets, the graffiti; even the most illustrious establishments are tagged up like it’s going outta style.
Oh but please don’t let me mislead you, dear reader, I think gritty’s great. I may not be able to read MC Snuhrb’s tag on yonder wall, but it certainly adds to the ambiance. The ramshackle nature of the whole area makes me think that it could all be torn down in a matter of hours and replaced with something of equally wonky construction. So much stuff … so precariously perched. Exciting!
But that’s Chinatown. Let’s see how all those European immigrants do it, shall we? On to the market!