I just had to quote the asinine verbosity of Rob Ford on this one, it’s just so apt.

According to the Toronto Sun, the loosely named “conservative think tank” Fraser Institute came up with the conclusion that immigrants are a big burden on the economy, mentioning that businesses are “not taking advantage” of skilled workers (clearly not in any way due to the policies of the Conservatives, both local and federal), and offer one of the most brilliant solutions I’ve heard of in years: robots

Specifically, “Faced with an elderly population in need of care and a shortage of medical staff, Japanese inventors have created robots that dispense pills and help feed and bathe seniors in hospitals.” According to the “think tank”, Canada should be investing in robots so that all of our elderly parents can spend their remaining years staring into the loving eyes of a machine while being poked and prodded and force-fed drugs.

Thankfully, the Cons don’t want anyone abusing seniors. That’s their job. They suggest that Canada could fire a bunch of nurses and maybe even doctors, and practically take humanity out of the equation altogether. These are conservatives we’re talking about, so none of this is surprising, but it does set a new bar for callousness and coldness, even by their standards. There’s no doubt what conservatives prize above everything else, even life itself: cold hard cash.

“This increases productivity of people who design robots and run robots,” said Herbert Grubel, co-author of the Fraser report. “We’re preventing all of that from taking place.”

By “we”, of course, he means Harper’s government which, when spoken out loud, is pronounced “left-wing pinkos”. And the first part of the sentence would really only make sense if the robots were pre-programmed with some sort of culling instructions a la Terminator, which would certainly make the whole process much more efficient. Not sure how this is to create more jobs, unless of course all that freshly rendered human flesh clogs up the gears, but it sure would keep the robot servicing peons busy and productive.

And after that, who knows…maybe a new food product on the market along the lines of Soylent Green? Think of how many problems that would solve!

Unfortunately, the Toronto Sun spent more time extolling the virtues of big boobs and guns than pontificating on this topic, which was of course closed to comments (thinking’s hard), so we may never know what their own in-house “think tank” thinks about such fresh ideas, but I think we can extrapolate their collective opinion: Robots. That’s it.

…CONTRIBUTING TO + EDITING THIS SITE!!!

All of my life I wanted to write, be a journalist, and eventually work/make an impact on the lives of children around the world. Thus far, I have gotten the chance to dip my toe into a world that helps families in several countries in Africa thanks to my efforts with Engineers Without Borders Canada (www.ewb.ca), went to school (till I got too ill) at my DREAM university (UofT), and kept writing whenever I could. Mostly I wrote little love stories and/or wishes (?) but here I find myself being Active Editor of this wicked site about where I am from. Pretty freakin’ COOL!!!

Now, after healing up some,  I am making a fresh start right here thanks to my best friend and boyfriend Patrick, the owner of TCL and so far… So far I have had an interesting time on the job! Met some neat people too…

Also, I have made a best friend in his kitty cat Oliver, my ‘other’ boyfriend… : D They both have reminded me that just because things get tough that doesn’t mean it’s ‘over’. Thank goodness for my two favourite boys!

This job has allowed me to put forth ideas and just talk about what matters most to me and so many people I know. I intended to go off and become a human rights worker IN THE TRENCHES but my time is not up — maybe there will come a CURE FOR MS and you will find me in the middle of a conflict zone one day! You never know, right????? Damn right, lol. A girl can dream after all…

Anyhow, I just want to say ‘THANK YOU’ to all of the new+old readers and please keep on reading and participating. We have more to come! With more ways to reach out, to participate, post new pics, rant about whatever floats your boat, and just have a laugh or a smile, things should get MORE interesting!

Challenge us, message us, and we just might be wherever you are. : D

THANKS AGAIN!!

Peace out,

Love, SarahD

Have you noticed any changes around here lately, dear reader? I’ve slowly been sneaking stuff onto the site…that TwitPic flip book at the top of the front page, TCLand (current to August 2009, but now there’s Caribana :( ), TCL by Month, the Tumblr site for picture junkies (occasionally with exclusive stuff), various shuffles, re/moves, and additions.

And I’ve added paid advertising. For realsies this time. It’s high time I try to do this thing fulltime because, if I may be honest, a year and a half in I love this blogging thing more than my first day. I entirely agree with most ad networks’ policies that I shouldn’t be asking you to click on any ads. It’s crass, a justifiable reason to get booted off the ad network, and you being the intelligent person you are make the sole and conscious decision to interact with any advertising that appears on this site. I wouldn’t insult you like that.

In order to be entirely transparent about my reasoning behind this effort, you should understand that any revenue that TCL generates goes directly toward helping me pay rent, eat, pay for hosting fees, and all that other stuff that requires money.

Generally speaking, revenue on sites and blogs is generated through the sale of ads, many of which pay when they’re occasionally clicked on. In effect, a a simple click on an ad ends up, via various channels, supporting the site on which it appears. In a very indirect way, the site that loads when a viewer clicks is providing financial assistance to the site carrying the ad. I like to think of this as the credits at the end of a PBS program. Hope you find this information useful.

So yes, I’m selling ad space and I’m getting something together where folks can actually invest in the blog — the idea is for these investments to accrue in value over time (if you believe TCL will accrue value over time, that is), and I’m going to try to get prices down to as low as a buck a pop — $1 – so it might be affordable for you too. I’ll explain how it works later, hopefully it’ll make so much sense that it’ll make your head explode.

But wait, there’s more!

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As I was walking home today, I spotted this placard being hung by a CUPE striker packing up for the night:

I’ll be honest, this is the first time I’ve been privy to any 416/79 propaganda. But I’m glad I saw it because it gives me an insight into the myopic condition of the enemy. Yeah, anyone who uses the word “comprehend” like this is a jerk.

Referring to the heroic General David Miller as simply “D. Miller” seems pretty derisive. But I suppose that’s to be expected. From a jerk.

What’s tough to swallow, however, is the absence of cause and effect in the 416/79 universe. It’s no secret that the chemicals being sprayed on garbage (the effect), are not terribly healthy. The city actually had to get an injunction against it’s own pesticide bylaws to be able to use them.  And then there’s the reason for their use in the first place (the currently picketing cause).

For the pragmatist in me, chemical warfare is a necessary but regrettable consequence of war that benefits no one. And while I applaud every inch that the city hall infantry gains on the battle field, the argument against prolonging the War is now all the more poignant.

Fresh reinforcements for our battle-weary combatants prove that the War in the city core can continue for some time:

And there you have it; when the going gets tough, Torontonians pick up after themselves. I never had a doubt. It’s just a shame that other local conflicts unrelated to the major War will continue to be eclipsed it.

For example, another city union, local 2003, is clashing with the mammoth Cadillac Fairview corporation. But in this case, the union’s been rotting by the curb since June 16th. I spoke briefly to the nice gentlemen in this photo and they seemed justifiably miffed that the corporation locked them out (that means the suits don’t wanna talk):

And now that I’ve undoubtedly aroused your interest in all things Canadian, I’m pleased as punch to announce that we’re sending our socialist coffee and doughnuts south of the border:

As a gesture to all my southern friends, here’s a little Tim Hortons cross-border dictionary to help you feel at ease with our oft strange lingo:

Timmies (n.): The official Canadian name of Tim Hortons
Tim Horton (pr. n.): A former Maple Leafs player who loved doughnuts and caffeine so much he started his own coffee and bake shop (hence the name, though strangely plural rather than possessive). He died of morbid obesity.
Doughnut (n.): The correct, Canadian spelling of donut. It’s a nut made of dough, not do.
Tim Bit (n.): The doughnut center. Brilliant marketing move by Timmies execs who knew classy Canadians naturally poo-poo the lowly “donut hole”.
Double-double (n.): The popular coffee poured over two creams (measured exactly), and two spoons of sugar. Not stirred (coffee-flavoured sugary goop at the bottom is a genuinely Canadian experience).
Triple-triple (n.): Well, shit, you’re already stuffing your gob with that Boston Cream.
Coffee (n.): A Double-double.
Espresso (n.): What?
Latté (n.): Down that hall and to the left but you might wanna knock first to make sure no one’s in there. Oh, and there’s extra toilet paper on the little table in front in case you need more.

And the most wonderful thing about Tim Hortons is that you can be assured that the Maple glaze doughnuts use 100% authentic Maple sugar. We’d know the difference ;D

As they set up to shoot the night scenes for “The Bridge” (a police biopic, I discovered), I took the opportunity of snapping a few photos of the outdoor set. This is the only one that didn’t feature one or another person’s ass:

Aside from the doily on top, I’m sure they chose this house because of its age.  It’s probably the oldest on the block, though there are numerous contenders for that honour in the neighbourhood.

My own apartment building is an old-style house not unlike the one pictured here, only wider (to accommodate ten apartments), and minus the personality.

It’s, let’s say, quaint. It feels warm and comfortable like my previous residence in rural Pickering in the same way that an old sock does. That smell of feet never really airs out and it’s drafty around the toes, but man it’s comfortable.

In the context of my neighbourhood, I think that my place is probably mid-range (price, size, etc.) A tall apartment building directly to the left of the “Bridge” house would be best described by the words “swollen” and “hovel”. If I were an upwardly-mobile young crack whore, I’d be setting my sights here. A little paint, some vacuuming, and that stank of bitter, life-ending self loathing comes right out.

But there are also places with “ROB THIS HOUSE” posted on every inch of the property; multi-million dollar reno jobs spilling over with gaudy fountains, ostentatious statuary, and semi-circular driveways on properties not more than eight meters (twenty-six feet) wide. They’re clearly just for show. Or clown cars.

Stuck between Casa di Rockbottom and the House of Betterthanyou are numerous alleys where the destitute make their home. Here, property boundaries are divided into areas for disposed bottle caps, areas for disposed Listerine bottles to which those caps belonged, and areas for inebriated homeless guys with sparklingly fresh breath who had recently consumed said bottles of Listerine.

I’m telling you, my neighbourhood’s a panoply of colour!

Unfortunately, the drafty window in my bedroom played a part in my decision to start looking for a new place. Well, that and the fact that the German superintendent is leaving soon. Who knew Germans could be so non-genocidal?

Now, I haven’t actually started looking so the ultimate decision about whether or not to move isn’t available. But I thought, if I’m out there looking through other peoples’ places; going through their medicine cabinets; stealing anything I may enjoy on my own shelves; why not take the readers of TCL along?

If you’re thinking of moving to urban Toronto or just enjoy descriptions of interesting smells, perhaps you may get something out of the series. It won’t be regular or anything, but I will try my damnedest to divulge the disturbing/kinky/amusing secrets of the places I visit.

My journey around old city hall has consisted of about five meters, four of which have thus far been spent in regrettable company.

Not more than a step further, I find myself with a raised eyebrow, arched in the direction of an encircled, chanting muddle of the local Krishna chapter . They’ve positioned themselves in an awkwardly dark and inaccessible point just a bit further along the embankment.

I’ve only basked in the live Krishna experience in what seemed to be ad hoc processions around Dundas Square or Bloor and Yonge. Today, donning coats that resemble puffed-up pigeons, they’ve festively interjected “Happy New Year” with every other “Hare Krishna”. They seem like a nice, warm little community. Don’t you think?

Wrong, commie!

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I feel kinda guilty for doing it; paying a guy to snap his photo. I mean, it’s supposed to be just a passing shot from the street and that’s it. He is, after all, selling trinkets for “a loonie square”, so I figure two is okay for one quick picture.

Instead, he invites me up onto the embankment where he directs his wife and son to pose. Somewhere from within three out of four uncomfortable grins, I align my shot and take it. The flash is weak and the picture doesn’t come out.

Fucking asshole of an idiot me.

I say “shit”, just a titge too loud, while grinning into the dim glow of the image. Before I even have a chance to confirm that, yes, I do want to permanently delete this already sullied scene, he jumps into action.

I, clearly, didn’t get my money’s worth.

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