The correlation was, you do drugs, you will get a taste for human flesh. Inevitable, jerkhole.

There’s a really interesting corollary between those anti-drug campaigns, eggs sitting on tops of walls (and subsequently falling off), the falling of the walls themselves (below), the frying of the whole place (further below), and — it seems — a drug-induced stupor at City Hall that allowed the whole thing to happen. And then the egg on their faces. Thus the circle of life is complete.

It was April 16th of last year when the facade came down near Ryerson, just over the Salad King restaurant which everyone suddenly remembered with cherished memories and the inevitable adage, “…but I haven’t been there for a while.”

Recall:

I think Salad King was planning to re-open some time tragically soon — just to pour Thai hot sauce on that open wound. And that’s exactly what it’s been since it came down: just a gaping gash on Gould Street. They threw a big tarp over the rubble on the street, fenced the area off, and that’s how it sat until this week’s fire.

Okay, so I’ve been asking this question for a while now … why has this building been allowed to sit as a wreck for this long? Why cover the frickin’ rubble with a tarp?

Well, apparently the thing was a heritage building and City Hall was mulling over what to do with it. Guess the bricks in the rubble were historic as well, hence the tarp.

But while Councillors were chewing the end-of-term / beginning-of-term cud, getting tours of City Hall, cancelling snacks, etc., the thing was left unattended and this week exploded into a six-alarm blaze — didn’t know there were that many alarms!

Even when I dropped by the next day the thing was still smouldering, apparently having re-erupted earlier that morning. “Normal for a fire of this magnitude”, I was assured.

Some are thinking potentially arson, I’m thinking dangerous exposed building left to the elements. Probably electrical, caused by the recent thaw, and then enjoying a very comfortable stay in the mostly wooden, former Empress Hotel building.

In the meantime, Yonge Street is now closed along with Gould (foot traffic ‘n all), and the open sore is much more so. That can’t go on too long.

My suggestion: get Ryerson University – literally across the street – involved. I mean, let all the investigators finish up, but after that I’m sure there are plenty of classes that could benefit from having to identify historic remains to salvage, perform actual fire forensics investigations, do structural engineering studies, and so on. Maybe George Brown get get itself a piece of that sweet action too. Real-world experience, free work force who get to take those spongy livers outside for some fresh air.

Just don’t let that building go to ruin a third time, you know?

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I was planning to do a post about urban public gardens. I know, it seems a little bent at the wrist, but I wanted to do it more in the context of the unforgiving city. Those little squares of land nestled in between caverns of glass. Had a great story ‘n everything. Then this happens:

I know it’s not war-torn Bosnia, but still, you don’t get many brick walls coming down in such a prominent location, in the middle of the day. Extremely convenient for me, if I may be frank. So I believe this proves my point. Unless someone’s suggesting I brought the wall down just to prove a point. :|

Anyhow, can I get a little personal here? I felt totally legit today – schedule ‘n all. I weaved in and out of the news crowd like it was nothing, had conversations with a few of them. Also witnessed a Ryerson student being turned back at the yellow tape. One of the camera guys joked with me with a “nice try, eh? You’re not from Ryerson, are you?” To which I replied, “Hell no.” Reply, *nod*.

That’s how it’s done. No one stopped me when I ducked under the yellow tape. Or stood on the wall. Or the electrical box. QED.

I probably don’t need to tell you what happened if you listen to local news. But if you don’t, it’s pretty straightforward. This wall came down on a street just north of Yonge-Dundas Square, so good foot traffic. Plus it’s the edge of Ryerson University. Some time early this afternoon, it slumped. And then came down. No one was hurt, so very lucky.

See? Simple. Probably the sign attached to the front from what I heard.

I had dinner at the place next door a few weeks back and I don’t recall the building bulging any. Also didn’t notice anything every other day I walked past there either. I use that corner a lot, is what I’m getting at, and can’t say I saw anything untoward.

I really don’t expect that area to open for at least a few days. It took emergency crews most of the afternoon to go through the place, one after each other. No fire. No casualties. It was kind of like an exercise – done in a nice, orderly fashion. By the book.

Convenient for everyone concerned. Except maybe the restaurant owner. And Friday afternoon traffic up Yonge Street. (Ouch.)

Oh, and check this out — I got to experience my first media swarming. It was around a gentleman (I’ll add his name later if I find it), who claimed to be the last one out of the building as it was coming down. I call him “the survivor”.

Here’s how it the situation goes down, for if you’re ever caught in one:

1. Someone’s willing to talk!
2. They smell blood.
3. Okay, jeez! Just take it easy!
4. Ugh! Muscled out by a girl!

Now for a nice convenient weekend. Ahh. :)

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The exact sequence of events yesterday at the Bickford Centre are still a bit hazy.

Some time in the late morning a gunman, or gunmen, stormed the adult ESL school and took the principal hostage. The school went into “lockdown” although none of the articles I read about the incident explained what “lockdown” means. Let’s assume that it involves locking the doors, keeping everyone huddled in the corner, and asking them to pray to whatever heathen gods they pray to.

This next part is what’s not quite clear to me. The Star seems to insinuate that the police showed up only after everything was over and only after calling the school to warn them that a threat was present. Presumably the Emergency Task Force took up positions outside the building, aimed their semi-automatics, and did their tactical entry thing.

Some time elapsed; a pregnant woman was carried out on a stretcher moaning; worried friends, relatives, and neighbours stood behind the police cordon nervously awaiting news. The atmosphere was thick with tension. And thickness (read on).

About an hour later it was all over. No shots had been fired and no one had been hurt. And that’s because it was just a drill.

Well, it was a drill according to the school’s administration; they just didn’t tell anyone about it. They said that they wanted to see how people would respond in a real-world emergency situation and so they didn’t provide anyone with advance notice. The real-world part seems reasonable but some of the other stuff…not so much.

For example, didn’t anyone in the school’s administration think to call the police just to let them know what was going on? Apparently this happens (minus the ETF), twice a year so it’s not like they haven’t done this before. It also happened at a school where, at the very least, I would expect someone to exercise a modicum of critical thinking. I mean, I’m not qualified to be a teacher or anything,  but the equation that led to this incident seems fairly straightforward:

Secret simulated hostage crisis + People with cell phones = High probability of serious police involvement

I’d use the word “embarrassing” but that requires the ability to be cognizant of the embarrassing circumstances; that seems not to be the case here. This is a school being run by people who are in charge of teaching newcomers to the Canada how to communicate (oh dear!). Furthermore, if the Star story is right and the cops called only after it was all over, I think we can agree that the ball was dropped by someone somewhere. Calling the potential victims of a crime after that crime has been perpetrated is pretty ball-less if you ask me. Lotta boobs though; especially the school administration.

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