I'm in the crunch - last post was on http://www.teachingdialogue.blogspot.com/

I will return soon.

A

When Billy Broke His Head Â… And Other Tales of Wonder. -1994 - video recording
http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0842/is_n3_v20/ai_16025459 When Billy Golfus, an award-winning radio journalist was brain damaged as a result of a motor scooter accident 10 years ago, he became one of the 43 million Americans with disabilities--this country's largest and most invisible minority. He struggled with his own rehabilitation and came home from the hospital, only to discover that physical rehabilitation was only the first battle he'd have to fight. In America, disability is not just a medical fact, it is also a political reality. In this irreverent, first-person road movie, Golfus, a sort of underground Charles Kuralt, goes on the road to meet people with disabilities around the country and witness firsthand the strength and anger that is forging a new civil rights movement. This video blends humor with politics and individual experience with a chorus of voices to explore what it is really like to live with a disability in America--where pervasive discrimination and bureaucratic "helping" systems too often keep people with disabilities trapped in a labyrinth of government rules and legislated poverty. As Billy says, "This ain't exactly your inspirational cripple story." It's a documentary with an attitude, which should entertain, enlighten, and might even enrage it's viewers. cast for 'When Billy Broke His Head... And Other Tales of Wonder'

Billy Golfus - Host

production credits

Billy Golfus - Screenwriter, Producer, Cinematographer, Director
Slawomir Grunberg - Cinematographer
David E. Simpson - Producer, Cinematographer, Editor, Director

awards

Freedom of Expression Award (win) - - 1994 Sundance Film Festival
Freedom of Expression Award (win) - David E. Simpson - 1994 Sundance Film Festival

*******$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$********************

Okay, so if you haven't already realized, this post is about a film that was screened in our disability studies class.

The row of $$$ and *** is to mean that this is an extra special occasion and is worthy or our meritorious praise.

It is also a call to action and a call to arms, to change. Change the perceptions we hold about disabled people that invariably, but directly causes them so much harm.

In addition to the preamble review at the top of the post, I figured I would spend a minute sharing my own notes taken from the film.

Firstly; this film is from 1994 - but it has a freshness and vibrance that is unmatched in much of documentary film making. Hmm there must be something there, something of importance in relation to the Human spirit, the human condition, humanity...

This film is not the story of a disabled man
(with an impairment that is virtually invisible, meaning it is not readily apparent simply from looking at him, since he has brain damage)
in the sense that the usual story of disabled people is either THE TRAGIC BUT BRAVE VICTIM or the CUTE AND INSPIRATIONAL. Think - rick hansen,
to Harry Earles (the short guy below) in Tod Browning's ~ FREAKS


"Tod Browning dares to answer the question: Can a full grown woman truly love a MIDGET ?"So why this digression to media images, well, i guess it's because I am a firm believer in the church of the mass media, and I also belive that every mind numbing piece of mass media created has 'an' effect on the built and mental environments we traverse daily.

Back to the film:

"as long as you don't have a job, they do." Spoken by a woman with a disability in relation to the 'Bureaucratick' folks in control of her life.

The overwhelming sentiment is anger, partly directed at the American Gov't - because as citizens of that country, they are denied services that would enable them to be self sufficient

- in effect - when a person asks for assistance - first they are seen as a person who is asking for preferential treatment - no person should be asking for more - they should be happy with that which has been given to them - right? - WRoNG

- The box doesn't allow everyone to fit inside in a nice and cozy way - Thus when a person asks - if they are not flat out denied - they often lose that which they had already been granted - i.e., if you were being given anallotmentt each month - and you felt that you could help to improve your personal situation by getting a job for x hours and x pay per week - the system of 'social assistance - would likely decide that you were no longer in need of any social assistance

- even if the pay you made from the job was not enough to cover your expenses - then the choice becomes - well - do i keep the job and live in a poverty worse than before or do i go back to the 'assistance' I was on? - Meaning that when the Gov thinks that your life in poverty is getting too cushy, they slap you with a 'spindown'

- what the fuzz is a spin down - how Americann is that - but it probably happens in Canadaa just as often - a spindown is where you are slapped with hefty tax for brining in extra money - money that is seen as surplus and in addition to the X$s you have been allottedd by the assistancee' program.

The fact of the matterr is that, people are faced with disincentives to work and improve their own personal situation, (this is where the whole - "they are lazt argument comes in") there is no middle road - no grey area for pencil pushers - for the pencil pusher has no 'real' authority - this action must be made in other ways -

For example: the disability rights movement in the US is largely spearheaded - or that's the way it is shown in the movie - to be a major player in disability rights activism - they are called

A.D.A.P.T. their current agenda = "There's no place like home; and we mean real homes, not nursing homes. We are fighting so people with disabilities can live in the community with real supports instead of being locked away in nursing homes and other institutions."

Their past agenda was all about transportation - The figures from the film went a little like this - Denver, CO - There was a larger push and large demonstration of civil disobedience by disabled people in Denver than there was in Chicago - The demonstration ended up shutting down an entire govt building for a day - in Chicago, no demonstrationn of like kind happened -
Today (1993) - ALL buses in Denver are accessible by wheelchair's - In Chicagoo - 600/3200 buses are wheelchair accessiblee -

The moral of the story was - the more civil disobedience the more results.

To return to the Current mandate of ADAPT - here are some #'s reflecting a familiar schema of power - money and greed -

The nursing home industry (yes industry, of warehousing people in places that may even 'look nice') is a 6 Billion$/year (1994) industry.

The gov of America chips in 3.8 Bil/year

- hell yeah lets take care of these people,Ii know, we'll stick in a place with lots of these 'useless' people and they can all sit there and watch the TV and be useless together - yeah george that sounds like a great idea - hell why don't we all move in there - uh - no - wait -I don't want to live in a nursing home - oh wait - how many people actually choose to go there - or want to - or are asked - is there a choice -???

It costs roughly $45,000/ year to have a person live in a NH? (Not sure where the funding is all coming from, or percentages)?

There are over 2 million Nursing homes in the US.

So lets compare - The cost it would be to allow someone to stay home, in their own environment - in thier own surroundings - on their own schedual - with theirr own choices -- privacy - dignity - sanity - perhaps with assistancee from care workers - hmm - safety - a home I'm comfortable in and feel safe in and get to live my life the way I want to live = priceless and a lot less than the cost of a NH.




Disabled people are the largest minority in the U.S.

The real problems are not the buses - the doors - the stairs - the high shelves - the visual culture - no - the problem is the attitudes - the prevailing attitude that sees disability as a worse fate than death.





To Read some of Billy Golfus' writings: go here...http://www.mouthmag.com/do_goodertrouble.htm



Sorry for the literary vomit - I am in the middle of a very busy time.


A

From the band that had a major impact on my life course over the last 10 years - I was a little shocked at coming across the 'good riddance' web page and reading that of the members who were in the band when they released 'a comprehensive guide to modern rebellion,' and have rejoined to put out the most recent record and tour: only one member is in fact at the time of the web post - still a vegan... "Europe 2006 -by Russ Rankin In late February of 2006 Good Riddance embarked on a 16 day European tour. 2.24.06 Amsterdam, NL

The busy square near the club, while pretty touristy, is always fun to walk around in and theres a pretty legit coffee shop down the street called “The Coffee Company” where Steve(road manager) and I, being the only vegans on the trip, got several soy beverages. Steve is really helping out with everything and its nice to not be the only vegan on the trip. We also get to talk hockey which, if I go too long without doing, I tend to go a bit crazy." So, thats it, I guess my inspiration is gone. I guess we all just pack in the bag on veganism sooner or later right. that'shats not it for me.

Seeing that Russ is the only one I ever really looked up to and respect, and the fact that he is still vegan, means a whole lot to me. The fact that he can run literary circles around most of the shit they call 'music' these days is evidence enough for me that being vegan means you can write good lyrics. This photo is a link to peta2 : and shows dave instead of shawn as drummer guy.
http://www.peta2.com/outthere/o-grid.asp

Fo Sho.

A

Hey There Folks:

Those of you interested in Vegan food, all of you right?

Personally I like the series of books that start with "How It All Vegan."

There are other one's out there that are a bit fancier, but that set is a good one to start with because the means are fairly simple and the educational information about health and nutrition as a vegan is vital.

Education is the Key, it's one thing to be a Vegan, it's another thing to be a healthy vegan.

Initially I read "Diet For a New America" and "Diet for A Small Planet" and these books changed my life.

Give yourself time to adjust and adapt, the vegan police don't exist, do what you feel is best for your body.

In addition to the nutrition side of things there are so many factors and schools of thought, it is all personal choice and the freedom we have living in the west affords us so many options.

If you are in Edmonton check out Padmanadi

A

Happy Birthday to me.

A Quarter life crisis will now ensue.

A

As of late I have been having a hard time getting to the writing of this blog. As most blogs go, they react in flux and in flow with the authors who are responsible for their existence.

While trolling for fodder to add to this blog post I have been struck with a few instances of eureka!

The first being that, though I am not apologetic for anything written in this blog, I do recognize that some of the content may prove to be offensive to some readers. Some readers may have issues with spelling and grammar. Some may have issues with content, in and of itself. In response to the issue of spelling and grammar: This blog was originally conceived as an outlet for stream of consciousness writing, unedited, unedited, to allow for a cohesion of ideas irregardless of mechanical linguistics. To this end I do realize that in forming an idea and opinion of the author, a reader may be trapped by the advent of poor grammar and spelling, thus I pledge to work on resolving this issue.

As far as content goes I am responding to two items in particular, the first being the bacon filled condom. Yes, I though it was kind of gross, I also thought it was a cultural artifact that adds to textured sense of percolated constructionism. Also I would like to point out that letters to the editor are always welcome. In fact, I encourage those who choose to write in response, do so in the section that follows posts, the place where a reader may post a comment (and you don't have to be a blogger to write, you can be anyone). In this case I am choosing to republish an email sent to yours truly;

"How about writing about people that fill their gas tanks with $35
of gas in a big GM car and then drive a month on this gas and still have
some left at the next fill the following month. I agree about the pollution.
I drive about 2500km. per year. How about preventing unemployed easterners
from migrating from the east to the west and increasing the vehicles that
are already on the road and increasing the pollution. What are they coming
here for? For Ralph's Bucks? Too much money here anyway. That's why people
are spending $400000 to buy a house. How many young people under 25 can
afford a $300000 house and mortgage payments of $2000 per month?"

In response to this email, I must say that by criticizing the writings of an author, or the content that is written about, or the political bent towards which certain pieces are formed, would it not simply be more effective to reclaim the medium for oneself by actively participating in a dialogue that is made public, i.e., by writing in the comments portion or by creating a blog of one's own in response. Albeit, the means of production i.e., blogger may not be in one's own hands, but a venue for performance is certainly left up to the creative motives of individual authors.

Ahh. That feels better, that was an issue I have wanted to address for some time now.

In reference to these images at the top and bottom, I was fortunate enough to find a webpage that has archived, catalogued and made easily downloadable for use by d.i.y. folks who are looking for them. Perhaps, individuals who by some path have chosen to identify themselves more closely to diy than to mainstream ideological paradigms.

As is often the case, blogs that are linked closely are often found traversing similar ground at the same time. Borrowed from the Yolk.

"The Revolutionary Knitting Circle Proclamation of Constructive Revolution

We hold that all communities should have the means necessary to meet every essential need of their own people.

To that end, the Revolutionary Knitting Circle calls upon people everywhere to take up the struggle through the tools of local production. We shall bring forth not only our voices raised for global justice, but we shall rise together, with the tools to liberate local communities from the shackles of global corporatism.

By sharing in the skills and resources of our communities, we shall become free to cast off dependencies on global trade for our subsistence. In so doing, we shall all be able to enter fairly into meaningful and equitable trade of not only goods, but also those cultural intangibles that are necessary if we are to bring about understanding, justice and peace to truly enrich our individual lives and our communities.

By returning production of the essentials of life to the community, we can eradicate the dependence imposed by the elites - giving communities the freedom to guide their own destinies.

We call upon all people who would see their communities freed from corporate slavery to come forth to share in action dedicated to removing the production of essential goods from the hands of multi-national corporations and returning that production to the people.

This is a daily struggle." -Knitting Manifesto. A group based out of Calgary, AB

____________________________________________________________________
To return to the original idea of this blog. I wanted to point out that images have played such an intrinsic role in my life, that I can hardly imagine a situation where I am hard pressed to associate it with an image. Thus I have been steeped and indoctrinated into a world of bold images, counter media images, images that reflect a diy ethic. These images have been influential in my life for some time now, they become referents, those that are not easily erasable from memory.

Vivisection: words cannot describe. Visit for images.






A

There is a sense of emergency here, a quiet revolution. Slowly, these bricks that once held businesses and homes are becoming depopulated. Only the fray remains. The core has been effectively drained of its vitality, a box store mall to the north has become the surrogate town center. A city marked with immense grain elevators dwarfing those we are accustomed to, or were accustomed to, on the praries. These giants shall remain as a testament to the economic prosperity of a thriving post war grain port, a proverbial hub of industrial movement. The waterfront is littered with these behemoths, the last initiative to dismantle one of the out-of-service structures, took nearly ten years to complete, and was wrought with increasing expense, a project that no one here will attempt again.

In this alley the spirits still walk, they make their way to the elevators, to the mills and to the mines. These sites of 'work' are now closing or closed, the end result is always the same. Without viable industry, industry does not survive. People are forced to choose a home that they know and love, or a future somewhere else. Most point themselves towards the east, some to the west, and some hang on to what they have here, the certainty of a fifty thousand dollar job a year is long gone. At this level, the town is glazed with formaldehyde, rendering all that is, into an adhock museum. These bricks shall remain, their purpose lost, the decay spreads, and barrel fires keep more than old mens hands warm.

The caption from this image reads: "Goes in easy because it's greasy."

Ah the beauty of trolling your way around the internet, to read a headline that says, "This person is in your extended network." Great, what does that mean exactly?

To me it means that through the murdochian network titled, "myspace," we 'now' have a place to find friends we simply haven't met yet. For me, it means finding and searching for various forms of media that entice me to probe their pages. Occasionally a myspace page will enlighten me with some form of image or art or song or dance or a carefully embedded video streaming from YouTube. You know who you are, as it has become apparent that I have somehow managed to become one of these people who 'never wanted to be someone who spent hours a day staring at a 'screen' but alas this is who I have become. The road has been long and hard, many hours have been spent surfing and downloading and then trying to figure out the proper parameters necessary to play what i have downloaded in any manner of form. I have become familiar with blogs and myspace and Youtube and torrents and cracks and some manner of HTML, but I recognize these abilities, these talents as those which remain in a liminal space of uncorporeality. The internet as a space where bodies matter not.

And yet, whit it comes down to the meat of it. We see that the flesh still links us all.

A

Dallas: This one is for you.

A

The Meatrix saga continues: Watch it HERE.

A

Go here: and read this - Monday Oct 23, 2006 - Where the Sidewalk Ends



My sentiments exactly.

A

Thanks to my good friend, bandmate and roommate of 3 years Dallas and his blog, that he writes collectively with his hairbrained cat gus (the girl). It was interesting to go to this page and see that through their research they have come up with a fantastic chart that rates environmantal pollution through the quantification of greenhouse gas emisions.

Since I'm originally from Texas/ Alberta, it was heartwarming to see that 6 of the top ten highest polluters in Canada were from my homeland. When I looked up Thunder Bay, the power company here, ranked in at a measly 55. What is that, my lungs can take it. Bring it on. Can't wait to go home. Maybe if enough of my friends and family back home take a look at this page they might possibly understand part of what the hell I have been raving about since I was born.

By the way I have asthma. Or rather, it was worst when I lived in Sherwood Park, directly east of rows of smokestacks.



Next on the agenda, and also thanks to Dallas and Gus, is a page I think I remember hovering past some time in the past 4 years before.

Go here. Click the Map. Do the test.

Me. Well apparently If everyone lived like me we would still need 1.7 worlds. That means that I'm a glutton and an abuser of my position here as a citizen of 'our world.' Does this mean that I could do with less, or rather more ecologically intuitive methods of living... I think so.

http://www.ecofoot.org/

http://www.pollutionwatch.org/

A

The opening in Thunder Bay at Defsup

A collective show of internationally recognized artists... drawerers.

Dehuman : Daniel Erban, Dennis Michael Jones, Ed Pien and Balint Zsako.

The hip.

When I was 12 I asked for music for christmas. Bad Religion and The Tragically Hip. When my Uncle heard that I wanted the hip I can clearly remember him saying, "You don;t want the hip, they sing about drugs and jail." As though the two are inextricably linked. Needless to say, i'll never forget he said that.

For some reason or another I'm listening to the tragically hip, the band I had learned and grew to hate for so many years because jeff, the guy who first took the time to teach me some guitar insisted that we learn tragically hip songs. Being a punk rock kid, I could care less about the droll that the TH were cranking out. I could not understand how jeff figured they were a heavy band. To me the misfits, AFI and Ignite were where it was at. Consequently I have had a heavy aversion to the Hip and all that they stand for, canadian tail gate parties and 'camping,' I knew it was not for me. Although now, for some reason, living out in Thunder Bay, I'm listening to the hip with somewhat confusion and consternation, "what the hell is going on" comes to mind, but i guess it all makes sense now. Apparently Gord Downey does lots of advocation about environmental issues around the great lakes. Maybee that is the connection?

Who Killed the electric Car?

I thoroughly enjoyed this film. But wait I'm in Thunder Bay And that film is not playing anytime soon. Okay, don't ask. The film features interviews with Hell Gibson, Ralph Nader, and others. "They make too much money off antiquated technology to want to change anything" (Nader). A good solid film probing the questions of a specific issue, a case study, and done well. I guess it made me really think about how the last 100 years on earth, we, as humans have done one hell of a job increasing the gaps between people and the planet that sustains life. Mans quest for constant improvement and advancement has afforded us a view of the earth from space, but what about the view of earth from earth, our ecological footprints. Lucky me and countless other blogstyle writers who can sit comfy in a rocking chair protected from the elements as we sit wit laptop on lap and write about ... how we done wrong.
I guess I just feel very strongly that Albert Einstein's prophecy will come true, and as it seems today, within my lifetime. "I know not with what weapons world war III will be fought, but WW4 will be fought with sticks and stones"

Making perfect babies

1992 National Film Board.

A film we watched in our disability class. The general argument is that the use of gene therapy and gene selction is entirely reminiscent of the eugenics movement of britain in the 1930's and also by the Nazis ... and Canada?

What really stood out in the film for me is: the way that in the 30's in Britain and in Nazi germany, the focus of convincing people that normal was quantifiable on image of normal and ab-normal. Those who fit outside of normal were regaded as horrendous and tragedy-like, as though they were unbearable burdens on society. The movement of today, is similarily fueled, although the images are not needed to be reproduced, they are so ingrained and enmeshed in our visual culture that thier disjunction is not possible. Yay, visual culture. The power.

While looking for vintage images, circa 1920-30's of Nazi, type, charts of 'invalids' and otherwise destined for the short end of the stick on 'ethnic cleansing' I came across this page.
Called SCOPE.









































































A

For the second time is 5 days... Mapping the Escape came through town on a tour that seems to be as hard as any. Thier bus, and it actually is a bus is amazing, it has a lift. Thats what happens when you pack more gear than the U.S. Army... Muchos gracias to Mr. Clark Wiebe for the use of his fantastically functional camera, it truly made my night, I haven't had that much fun shooting photos at a show... ever. Thanks Lads for the show. Drive safe.














Other than thes images I have been busy documenting the stangely quiet town of Thunder Bay, its texture... and streets filled with random shopping carts... coming soon.. A

Living in the middle of Canada is a special thing. Betwixt and between, the liminal space, this is Thunder Bay. This geographical location also happens to be THEE place to stop for anyone passing through on the trans Canada. The fact of it is, no one comes to Thunder Bay, to be in Thunder Bay, rather TB is a place to stop whilst on your way to another desination. Amazing that Amy and I ended up here at all.


This past weekend... was steeped with the overarching feeling that we were stuck in limbo. I belive it may also be known as 'canto iv.'

This weekend, aside from being Miss Amy's birthday on the 9th, had 8 guests, 2 parties stay with us on the night of the 9th. Mr Eli Klein and his lovely lady Lea, arrived at around 11pm, cursing the ontario ministry of transportation for having a posted speed limit of 90km/h. (I have read somewhere that Ontario has North America's safest highways).

It was awesome to see some familiar faces from home, who will no longer be back in Edmonton. Toronto is thier destination. Together the 4 of us shared in a thankgiving meal of epic vegan proportions. We had cabbage rolls, mashed yams, roasted vegetables, tofu/ cashew loaf, mushroom gravey and amy's special birthday chocolate brownies. Needless to say, it was amazing. A round of applause for the cooks.

The hour was growing late and the ladies decided to turn in while the 'men' sat in the PArlour drinking scotch and smoking nat shermans.

Okay so its not entirely true, but the part about sitting in the parlour is true. hehehe. Sometimes this blog thing makes me laugh at it and at myself, which is a good thing, i think.

Wrapping this up. Eli and Lea and Reese.










Amy and I hope to visit them in Toronto, apparently dan and erin live like 3 blocks away from them. I see some awesomeness on the Horizon.

Our next guests were the 6 lads travelling canada right now on tour, otherwise know as mapping the escape. They didn't arrive, from winnipeg untill 2am. That meant that in the morning while I accompanied Eli and Lea to the Hoito, the band slept as hard as they could well into the afternoon.

For the rest of the day, I hung out with the band who was also hanging out, being a band, waiting... waiting.. always waiting. Now that I got a chance to sit near a band instead of in a band I am flooded with memories of waiting. I think the waiting is what killed me, and was one of the main factors in me wanting to go back to school. This way I could just sample the waiting as I put off my school work for a day or two. Just to make sure that I am happy doing what I am doing. And I am. Very Happy.

As I look up out of my window I see that the rain that was falling this morning has now turned into falling snow.


Here it comes. In the middle no less.

A

From the disability dicussion: Tolerance = I’ll deal with you. Acceptance = I appreciate you.

Equality entails that everyone be the same. Difference is regarded as pariah.

Davis: Deviance Disavowal – It is what happens when people pretend that deviant acts are not being acted. Everyone is hard at work ignoring… disability…

Though the impairment is visible, it is rendered invisible through cultural practice. Ie. (an able bodied person saying to a friend with an impairment) “I don’t see you as disabled.” From a social model perspective this can be understood as, “You are only acceptable as far as you are – just like me.” A possibility for a devaluing of identity for the person with the impairment.

Polio: 1950’ s, the cultural view was forceful in asserting that those affected by ‘polio’ be ‘treated’ by means of multiple surgery’s. These surgery’s lasted for hours at a time, were painful and ‘torturous.’ The period of recovery was long with a good chance that more surgery was going to be needed.

The purpose was to allow those ‘afflicted’ to (singular purpose?) walk. The view was highly regarded as necessary and essential for folks/children with polio. The medical profession saw no other option. Normality was to be upheld. Certain families, though they went against the dominant views of the prevailing culture, decided for one reason or another that the child with polio, shall not undergo the psychological trauma of an invasive surgery.

The point is that, the surgery did not cure polio, rather it was a means to visibly assimilate the child into ‘regular’ ‘normal’ life as a ‘walking’ individual. Cause everyone knows that walking is the vessel that leads to all happiness. These families would not be congratulated for choosing to forego surgery, rather they would be seen in rather dim light as those that chose a miserable future for their ‘now confined to a wheelchair child.’ Post Polio Syndrome: In the 1980’s signs of Polio started to recur. Doctors were being flooded with cases of polio once again. The ‘patients’ were former ‘victims’ of polio.’ They were the ones who had been participants in the barbarous surgery’s, not those ‘helpless victims confined to chairs.’ The



Post Pastoral Landscape.


I grew up In Sherwood Park, a bedroom community east of Edmonton. White people live there. White folks who choose to live there because, they have a substantial income and because other white people live there. The core of the community is… suburban homes occupying space on what was, in most cases, land that was used to in some way or another produce food.

Okay, fine, unoriginal and plain, I recognize this. The part that got to me though was the landscape. Specifically the landscape to the west, for invariably when one lives in a smaller community in proximity to a larger one, the focus of the gaze is often directed at the larger body in awe and affection. We face west into the sunset and look at the silhouette of ‘the city,’ I think. These warm fall colors, the amber and crimson, blend together to form an image worthy of digital encapsulation, ahh, the city. But in the foreground of this spectacular awe inspiring view, that which is often not the focus, is the heavy industry.

The fumes from tall towers burn bright, burn long and burn hard, ‘burning off’ that which need burning off. Fumes that rise and glide, they flow into the air and mark the canvas of our city image. Each miniscule particle plays a role in changing the direction and intensity of the setting sun. But yet, these towers are not seen, these gasses are not seen, these massive oil drums, like buckets for giants are not seen. I say that they are rendered invisible because, no one talks about them.

They are rendered invisible by their naked visibility.

Here in Thunder Bay, away from the cacophony of steel pipes that shuffle crude and refined matter from sector to sector, (I am reminded of those play toys found in doctors offices, the wooden base, the coated metal wire frame jungle housing wooden beads that slide and shimmy their way around with the help of children’s hands) tomorrows engineers site happily on the floor of a tightly woven carpet in the corner of a doctors office (the site of real disease transmission).


…Here in Thunder Bay the towers are not gone, simply, they are of a different variety. The oil and gas, and gas additives have been replaces with grain towers and logging yards. The ships come in from all over the world, yesterday a ‘russian’ boat was in the port collecting a towers worth of grain. Apparently the breadbasket of Europe is looking for imports. On my photomission of yesterday I met a man who was happy to wax poetic with me about the logging industries blatant land rape, “for 2/4’s, it’s shit, they don’t care, just go up to the forest, up to the 55, and cut it all down, it’s dry too, bring it here and ship it into the states as fast as they can” (poorly paraphrased). When he asked me what I was photographing he said there wasn’t much down here worth photographing.

When I told him that I liked to photograph industrial landscapes, his tune changed and we entered a conversation about Burtynsky. He told me that yes, they (Thunder Bay) needs some outside perspective, to capture the look and feel of the harbour and recreate it for them downtown where people might actually look at it. I hope I run into that man again, I’m sure we could of talked about the environment and politics for hours, but he was headed to the office.

I guess if I can pick out a theme, it would be that, what is most visible, often ends up being invisible.

By the way if you would like to send her a happy birthday, Oct 9. missamygroove@hotmail.com (She’ll probably kill me for that)

A

A message to students of Sociology 1100YA.

Hi. welcome to my blog.

Okay, so getting up in front of a class for the first time as a grad student was new.

Thanks for not throwing coffee and lit cigarettes in my eyes.

Once I finished talking I realized that I hadn't really said anything about myself other than my email. I even managed to tell y'all that, yes, I will be around to help out with proposals.

That means that sometime in November, probaly the first or second week of that month, I will hold a raft of office hours. Of course, this is once I get an office.

In my undergrad, I went to the UofAlberta. Major in Sociology and a Minor in Art and Design.

In essence I combined the two, and did as much Art and photography in my Soc classes as I could get away with.

The thing is, writing doesn't mean just papers, it could be stories, video recordings, photography, Art... anything.

This is how I learned that Sociology was fun. Being able to do what I wanted to do, in a discipline that is constantly evolving.

The first things I noticed when I got here was that; there's a casino downtown, there's video camera's downtown, but hey there aren't any people downtown so what are the cameras for?

Also on campus. Where are all the clocks? Where are all the phones? Whats with the video cameras?

These are some of the things that amuse me .... oh yeah and the centenial brick from 1967 that the ryan building is made of... you know, they don't make that stuff anymore, so you can't fix it.

On the side and inside everyday I am also amused by:

Industial Archaology

The Post Pastoral Landscape

Trespassing

Space and Place

Art/Photography

Philosophy

Disability

Check back here every once in a while for more posts directed at this class, as an informal way of getting to know one another, feel free to make comments. Anonymity is cool too.

Oh yeah, I'm pretty into this guy at the moment. He shoots with a large format camera. That means film. Big Film.

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www.edwardburtynsky.com

Sunday Morning Pancakes: No Trespassing

This happens:

I get caught in the wave that is, for now, writing papers for classes. During this time all function outside of writing the paper is essentially halted. Writing in the blog becomes a last priority for I have nothing left to write about that I feel is of any interst to anyone but me.

The invalidation of moving to a new place, still affects.

Muchos gracias to Gary Genosko for lending me his fantabular digital camera. Truthfully I much prefer the use of film, but alas, the budget does not allow for such expenditures. In the case of doing a gallery show I would be inclined to use a medium format or large format film camera to produce the galatinous effects desired.

But hey, a digital and some photoshop fun is what I got.

The image above is taken from down the street from our place. We live on a big hill, towards the water is where many of the houses have been built. In the distance lay some of the structures that make up Canada's second largest grain port. You can't really look at the lake, without looking at a massive walls of concrete. If it would ever stop raining maybee i could get down there and not ruin someone elses digital camera.

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The sky has been grey for the last week, apparently the sun that shone for weeks when we arrived here, has been banished to another place. Another place where it may not be 10degrees in the morning and 3 degrees bymid-afternoon. This a strange place.

Rosemary Kennedy, apologies, we shall make it back to you.

The movie "Safe" completely slipped past my radar until now. See it. (ala, american psycho, edward scissor...,stephen shore's photography).

Peeing. The realization that you may be sitting in an area of the space and place you live, and notice that you can very distinctly hear: the sound of heavy male foot steps, the kind one might associate with a fire-fighter or any sort of heavy boot wearing professional. Hark, silence, the footsteps have come to a halt and for once your tea may sit idely on the table next to the computer. But wait, the story does not end here. The piercing shriek of unlubricated plastic components is next to make its mark on the canvas of sound being illuminated. The pierce is ended with a subtle knock, the plastic and porcelain have at once made contact. These noises like notes that of the first movement of symphony 'number one.' The creshendo. The finalle. ce tu. no. ...the audio component is something of a marvel. Acoustically engineered to ensure the enhancement of anyone's morning tea. The dual reverberation of liquid in motion, In Stereo. From your cup to you lips. From.... to the cieling so perfectly above your head.
What are you listening to these days?

Since, construction and deconstruction of
language is of paramount importance here. I was delighted to find the devil’s
dictionary while trying to find a meaning for incompossible.
http://dd.pangyre.org/i/incompossible.html


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Families and Frontal Lobotomies

In our class our instructor referred to a story relating to the near royalty American Family, the Kennedy’s and sister to JFK, Rosemary. Needless to say I was compelled to find out more and assemble my findings and thoughts here. Welcome.

The article I found, providing me with, yes I admit, 1 view Gerald O’Brien.“Rosemary Kennedy: The Importance of A Historical Footnote.”Journal of Family History, Vol 29 No 3, July 2004. 225-236. http://jfh.sagepub.com/

“Rosemary was the third of the Kennedy children and the oldest girl. Preceded by Joe Jr. and John... Rose, her mother, realized within a few years of Rosemary’s birth (Sept 13, 1918) that her daughter took longer to reach developmental milestone than did the two boys... She and her husband engaged in a spree of doctor shopping as they desperately sought accurate diagnostic and treatment information related to their daughter.” ”While Rosemary’s father, Joseph Sr., had an especially difficult time acknowledging that he had sired a retarded child, Rose attempted to treat her daughter as much as possible like the other children... While sexual conquest, for example, was an expected trait among the males in their household, the daughters were taught that an important element of their religious faith was abstinence until marriage.”

“Rose, a strong Catholic, later rationalized that her daughter had been sent to them for a special purpose, “to do work he cannot do through any other child.” “Rosemary’s sexual awakening... Rosemary being widely regarded as one of the most attractive of the Kennedy girls, Joe and Rose were extremely worried about the possibility that she would become sexually abused or pregnant... Because of concerns about her [s]exuality, Joe Sr., decided, without consultation or informing his wife, to have a prefrontal lobotomy performed on Rosemary.” “Rosemary’s surgery was performed very soon after the introduction of the technique to this country. Fewer than one hundred such operations had been completed at this time, and the procedure was very much experimental. The operation was recommended for hopeless’ patients who had little to lose and everything to gain. This description hardly fit Rosemary Kennedy.” “Rosemary’s operation was a complete disaster, taking away many of the skills that she had developed through years of her mothers perseverance. Rosemary was later placed in St. Coletta’s, a Wisconsin facility for persons with mental retardation, where she remains to this day.” “Once she was institutionalized, Rosemary was treated as if she were no longer part of the family. In the family letters that Rose wrote after 1942, Rosemary’s name was not included along with those of her siblings, and she only received as few visits from family members over the next several decades.”
To Be Continued:

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