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TORONTO,ON

sonicgregu has added a photo to the pool:

I always loved those commercials. They kind of implied that brains would taste pretty good sopped up with some chunky toasted bread and maybe a hash brown, butter, and bacon (or short pig), on the side. And f-f-f-f-f-f-Fava beans, Clarissssssssssse.

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 tried to warn my sis. I referred her to last year’s experience. I told her this was no place for impressionable young kids. Did she listen? Did she do the responsible thing and not accept my invitation to the Santa Claus Parade? Am I wallowing in rhetoric just to fill up a few sentences?

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I know I’ve advocated imbibing a trifle before heading out for the the evening, but I’m gonna start prefacing that with, “except not to the point of getting shit-faced”.

Weaving between teenagers hardly capable of holding their drink let alone appreciating art of any kind, and the puddles of vomit they leave about the place, to me, kinda cheapens the experience. Not unlike using the English translation of Nuit Blanche.

So that’s the one thing about Nuit that this year stood out loud and sore for me.

Beyond that, I was sure the crowds would dissipate post midnight. Last year I headed out at around one o’clock, this year I was there sometime after two in the morning, but with considerably more people. I suppose that’s inevitable; the event now draws in excess of a million people and I’m sure there’ll be more next year. Clearly single-digit temperatures and the threat of rain means nothing to the swarthy outdoors art crowd.

Okay, criticisms dispensed with. Let’s get to the meat and potatoes, shall we?

So, once again I found myself unable to make it to the elusive Zone C. Since I live on the eastern edge of Zone A I necessarily have to traverse it to get to the other side. It’s about an hour of distractions, crowds, and everything and anything designed to ensure that you never make it through.

For starters, there’s always something going on at Nathan Phillips Square. This year the area in front of City Hall hosted a sprawling performance by Daniel Lanois entitled “Later That Night At The Drive-In”.

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…continued from part 1.

Of course there was nudity again this year. Just more seemingly painful nudity. But I’ll let you be the judge. First try to find it. Then try not to cringe.

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