Surrey police go chickenshit on the homeless

This shit is just too good to pass up:

The City of Surrey and RCMP lined a Whalley social service building with chicken dung to keep homeless and vagrants away, The Leader has learned.

On Aug. 14, witnesses saw City of Surrey staff pull up to the Front Room Drop In Centre in the 10600-block of 135A Street and line the building with putrid poultry manure. The desired effect was to create a smell so repugnant that it would repel vagrants who were hanging out around the building.

[...]

Mayor Dianne Watts said she was "flabbergasted" to hear of the chicken dung directive.

"I'm certainly going to get to the bottom of this," said Watts, adding it's disgusting and a health hazard.

Bottrill's e-mail to Watts says the area businesses and local business improvement association were in favour of the plan.

That doesn't make it right, said Watts.

Ever hear something that simultaneously makes you want to laugh like a screaming hyaena, and punch someone in the face until little chunks of bloody flesh start flying off?

I mean, it's just fucking surreal. You read something like this and your first reaction is, 'how can this possibly be true?' Seriously, what kind of person thinks that the best solution to any kind of problem is to cover it in pestilent feces? I mean, a move like this takes a certain amount of planning and execution. Did nobody involved in the process of ordering truckloads of chicken shit on the grounds of a government building think for even one fucking second? AIEEEE (sound of brain exploding)

This really shows the kind of respect the Surrey RCs have for the human rights of those who don't happen to have a place to sleep at night.

Nice Guys Finish Their Fucking Breakfast

via Pandagon, I was directed to a conversation between Tycho and Gabe, the creators of the webcomic Penny Arcade, in which Gabe feeds the myth that women are mysterious forest creatures which control men through the awesome magic power of the vagina. He expresses great sympathy for lonely, sex-deprived dudes with Self-Diagnosed Aspergers who buy into the misogyny-baiting snake oil that is the 'seduction community', where self-described pickup 'artists' sell systems absolutely guaranteed to get you laid (because what poor, unfortunate dateless ubernerd wouldn't want the password that unlocks the cunt of whatever hot lady you happen to be crushin' on at the moment? Forget mutual interests and compatible personalities, mutual desire and attraction, or even mutual recognition of each other's basic humanity and right to make choices in life - UP DOWN UP DOWN LEFT LEFT RIGHT RIGHT B A NEG, and like magic her panties come off, amiright?) Such 'systems' essentially consist of being a huge douchebag of stalker-like proportions, because the ladies love total jerks and not 'nice guys' like you dontchaknow; a routine of put-downs and not taking no for an answer which continues until some woman with low enough self esteem to not toss her drink in your face caves in and throws you a pity fuck. And then you get to impress all your internet and gamer buddies with tales of what a smooth criminal you are IRL. To Gabe's credit he eventually starts to recognize what a shit he's starting to sound like and backs off the whole 'if someone wants to pay good money for trash like this, what's the harm if it honestly boosts his confidence?' line of thought. But he still doesn't seem to have picked up on the disconnect between the 'poor poor pitiful me' narrative and the utterly scummy behavioural realities he's playing into.

Because, let's face it, the primary reason straight male geeks have trouble interacting with the opposite sex is largely because of the patriarchal myths that get stuck in their one track minds: that women are otherworldly reptile people with such different brains from yours that trying to actually understand and communicate with them is a fool's errand; that the ultimate object of any and all social interactions with women is to place your dick into their pussy; that dating is a 'game' that you 'win' by fucking her and 'lose' by ending up masturbating in front of your computer again. Here's a free tip: the reason so many women blow you off is not because you're insufficiently callous or lacking in confidence. It's because your every word and gesture breathes emotional immaturity. It's because they've had to deal with enough fumbled passes, shitty pickup lines, and poor 'nice guys' drooling into their cleavage at the slightest prospect of seeing them get naked that they already know what's coming the moment you sidle up and start panting up the courage to ask for a little sugar. The reason women think you're creepy is that you're acting like a fucking creep.

Honestly it's a little heartbreaking hearing Gabe go on about how terrified he was of his first encounter with the opposite sex, and how many guys have written to him defending these systems because they 'gave them the confidence to even approach a girl'. I sympathize; honestly I do. I've been there. My adolescence and young adulthood was the perfect storm of social anxiety, Gothic wyrdness, and serious gender and sexuality issues; I know whereof I speak. 'Normal' girls wouldn't give me the time of day, and with those who were accessible (by which I mean 'didn't think I was an animal-mutilating psychopath just because I liked long black coats and clown makeup'), I had difficulty catching on when was the right time to try a little flirtation. The thought was paralyzing, and I still curse some of the blatant opportunities I missed to get into this or that super-sexy Goth girl's pleather panties. You know what? Never once did I think 'I wonder what exactly the right sequence of actions is to make this person sleep with me'. What I did was make friends with whatever women I met that seemed friendly and in tune with my interests, and by make friends I mean 'make friends', not 'fake an interest in their lives as a pretext to manipulate them into bed', which is what a lot of these passive-agressive 'nice guys' seem to mean when they say they 'make friends' with women.

And yes, there were a lot of times when I ended up as 'just friends' with a woman I might have enjoyed a more intimate relationship with. And exactly what the fuck is wrong with just being someone's friend? People act like this is the kiss of death, having to be all friendly and not horny around a lady friend when you're just throbbing with hormonal urges. You know what? Tough titty, kitty. Go home and rub one out. Show some fucking self discipline for goth's sake. Hollywood has implanted this notion in our heads that if we're friends with a woman, and are also sexually attracted to her, and perhaps disapprove of her current boyfriend, the only logically acceptible conclusion is that we end up bedding and wedding her. In reality, such situations rarely work out that way, and so you're faced with two choices: try to move the relationship to the next level and take that risk of rejection and possibly losing a friend, or just be content with friendship and keep it in your fucking pants.

More to the point, however, I didn't end up spending the next ten years in a constant stew of sexual frustration, surrounded constantly by unattainable fey creatures who were inexplicably unaffected by my incredible niceness and charm. Neither did I enjoy constant access to pussy. I was able to participate in romantic and sexual encounters on a regular basis, for a given value of 'regular', ranging from one-night stands to relationships lasting several months at a go. Eventually I met the one I'm currently planning to marry, a strong, smart, extremely Gothic, and strongly feminist lady who loves video games and larping. And yes, alot of the time I was lonely and depressed and frustrated over my lack of companionship, but I fucking dealt with it, because that's the way it works. Sometimes someone is interested enough in you to engage in mutually pleasurable physical recreation. The rest of the time you fucking deal. What you do not do is wallow in resentment of how those lovely ladies give it up to jerks and not nice guys like you. And you certainly don't give good money to some douchebag to teach you how to be a degrading asshole so those stuck-up whores will open their legs to you.

The way you get over 'nice guy' syndrome is to actually be a nice guy instead of a stuttering, titty-staring survived abortion who treats women like achievements instead of people. There you go, great dating advice for confidence-riven dorks, and you didn't have to pay a red fucking cent for it. You're fucking welcome.

Real Justice

This is the kind of story that warms the cockles of my heart:

It was bikers versus a machete-wielding robber in Regina on Monday night — and the bikers won.

According to Regina police, a group of 10 "motorcycle enthusiasts" were having coffee at a Tim Hortons restaurant on North Albert Street when, at around 9 p.m., they spotted some suspicious activity nearby.

Two men were observed walking up to a Domo Gas station, with one of them carrying a machete. When the two pulled on masks, Rob Hove and a motorcycling friend jumped into action.

"The gas station attendant come out and started yelling that he was being robbed," Hove said. "The guy with the machete was swinging it at the gas station attendant, so we went and stopped them."

The bikers grabbed the man with the machete, seized the weapon and held him for the police.

Now imagine a similar situation: A group of 10 average people with no discernable enthusiasm for motorcycles, while coffeeing at THo's, sees a pair of masked men with a machete walk into a gas station. They call the police. The owner runs out, screaming that he's being robbed. They call the police. The owner is cut down by the man with the machete and the robbers walk off with the cash. The onlookers drink their fucking coffee. The police arrive and question the onlookers, who regret that they couldn't do anything to help that poor man, the 10 of them; someone might have got hurt, though, and after all it is the responsibility of the police to deal with this sort of thing. That's what we pay taxes for, innit?

It makes me so happy to see that, once in a while, there's real justice in this world.

Object Lessons: Living with family, capitalist vs. communal

A few months ago, my partner and I were illegally evicted from our home. This has been an intensely traumatic experience for us, but ultimately I see it as a good learning experience, because it pointed up in an intensely personal way the manner in which life under capitalism poisons and degrades even the most intimate of relationships.

See, until this point we had been living with a cousin-in-law who owns a house and was renting a room in it to my partner for a not especially extortionate rate of 300$ a month. She also rented the basement suite to a succession of people including her own brother and his SO, and later to a couple of teenagers who made a real mess of the place (breaking furniture, kicking holes in walls, pissing in the back yard, etc.) My partner asked me to move in, and I agreed to also pay 300$, making the total rent 600$ for one room and use of the common areas. A bit high, but not, in today's rental market, unprecedented. Cousin/landlord then moved out to live in another property with her boyfriend, thus implicitly altering the rental terms to 600$ for the entire top floor of the house and back alley parking, less one room where she was storing a bunch of junk (which she repeatedly promised us would be removed) - a bit of a better deal. This was an entirely informal arrangement without written contracts or lease agreements. Usually I cover my bases a bit more thoroughly, but hey, family is family, right?

We made a number of plans based on our understanding that this was going to be our home for some time. I had recently lost my job due to constant joint pains, and was recieving EI which would run out in several months; in the meantime I played hausfrau, cooking, cleaning, and maintaining the property while remaining on the lookout for writing gigs or a job that wouldn't make me want to kill myself and/or my boss, co-workers, and clients. My partner was recieving an education grant that barely covered her rent and our combined living expenses. We were aware that we would have some troubles with our rent, as eventually we did, but cousin/landlord assured us that she understood and that it would not be a major problem as long as the rent was, at some point, paid. So we spent the winter in more or less happy domesticity, dreaming of the victory garden I had repeatedly talked about planting and about turning the lawn under like the owner had stated was her desire and intention.

Then things went completely to shit.

Over the course of the next month, cousin/landlord started sending us messages on facebook (and BTW what the fuck is it with people saying things on facebook that they're too much of a coward to say to your face?) demanding our late rent immediately, berating me for not getting a job and 'laying on the couch playing video games all day' (the hours I spent every day keeping her property clean and in good repair, building a brick fire pit, etc. apparently didn't even register), trying to break me and my partner up (this literally right after we made the commitment to get married), and whining about how we 'forced' her to kick out paying tenants (these would be the ones who kicked a hole in her wall among other things - we were just the messengers) and how we were taking food out of her children's mouths (the children she does not, as of yet, have). When she finally got around to actually stating that we were being evicted, I politely inquired as to when we would be getting our one calendar month's notice to vacate as required by law. After quoting a law to me that does not exist supposedly allowing her to kick us out with one day's notice, she eventually (ie. a week before she had told us we were supposed to leave so that she and her family could move back into the house) gave us a letter stating that our poor hygiene was destroying her property, bribing us to leave by 'letting' us keep the back rent she had repeatedly refused to take from us (including when we literally waved a wad of cash in front of her face) if we left by the end of the month, referring to her legal obligations under the rental tenancies act as 'a bunch of legal BS', and telling us to 'get out of my house and out of my life'.

Now this would be disturbing enough behaviour from a professional landlord, and it's pretty damn disturbing behaviour from a family member whom my partner had to this point believed she had a good relationship with. But from someone who is both at the same time, well, it's honestly not that shocking; Because capitalist relations poison everything they touch. I had never liked her but neither did I think of her as an exploiter to that point. After all, she has her own financial obligations to fulfill; and the law of land is such that she is not just allowed, but in fact encouraged, to extract surplus value from her property by renting it. I could always see where she was coming from, and believed/hoped that it wouldn't get in the way of our having a healthy family relationship and making a nice little urban homestead of the place over time. I should have known better. When the obligations of family ties (and basic human decency) conflict with the obligations of a capitalist to maintain profits, which is going to win out? The irony, of course, is that literally a week later my partner got a job that easily could have supported us there over the summer, but by then it was too late; relations had been irreperably damaged. She had the legal right to evict us, though it still would have been pretty callous; but the way she did it was illegal and absolutely unconscionable. I think she was trying desperately to paper over her white-lighter guilt at doing something she knew was completely dispicable by creating some sort of fantasy world where our financial problems were actually a sinister plot by a couple of scam artists to bilk her out of her rightfully deserved rental fees. And we considered taking legal action - my personal preference would have been to fight with every weapon at our disposal; but cousin/landlord was at this point having her family members send us distinctly threatening and abusive communications, and my partner just wanted out of the whole situation. With less than a week to find new lodgings or face the prospect of having to live under the same roof as this insane bitch, our only real option was to take advantage of my parents' kind offer of the basement in our family home of 25 years.

When we first moved in, we offered them rent - in fact, nearly insisted that they take some; they repeatedly refused, saying that they were just happy to have us there. And our being here has actually been a distinct benefit for them. They're getting older, slowing down a bit, living on a pension and a couple of part time jobs; they really seem to appreciate some help with the housework and the grocery bill. They're a couple of old hippies and quiet UC Christians who tolerate our paganistic and countercultural ways; their values really support sharing, investing in the community, and being content with what you have. In fact, we live in a very communal way, each of us contributing money when we can and labour as appropriate. I cook almost every night - for a family that appreciates my effort, not a stuck-up adolescent who turns up her nose at the product of my labour, then makes pasta with crap canned tomato sauce at midnight and leaves the leftover rotting in the fridge for weeks at a time. My garden is doing lovely, with the spinach just playing out and the wax beans very nearly ready to go; my potato tire tree is ready for its fourth level, and I harvest fresh raspberries from my mother's massive cane patch every day. I've been earning a bit more money helping my father with his job as a janitor, and still have time to write, cook, clean, plan a wedding, and yes, play video games. My partner is going to start her courses this fall for her mortician's certificate, and doesn't have to worry about whether her student loan is going to provide enough money to put both a roof over her head and food in the fridge. My aunt also just moved in after seperating from her abusive husband, and she brings her own talents, income, and labour to the household; meaning that, instead of our wealth being divided up for the pyramid of exploiters that rests on the shoulders of landlords and the workers they milk their living out of, more of it stays in the household to improve our own material conditions. The difference between the way we live now and our relationship with that parasite who happened to own our previous home is absolutely amazing. We're not renters and landlords, not capitalist bloodsuckers and impoverished people struggling to survive; we're a real family. My partner still feels depressed, like 'teenagers playing house', and I certainly share a lot of that - I never wanted to move back in with my parents, and I'll be happy when we can manage to get out of this forsaken city and be independant again. But I can't help but think that this is the closest I've ever gotten to a life that makes me truly happy, and I wonder if we'll ever be able to achieve this kind of life again once we're back out in the world of capital.

Another one for the 'misogyny and misandry are essentially the same thing' files

The ugly truth about The Ugly Truth:

The fact is that nothing in The Ugly Truth is new. Most of its messages are taken directly from relationship advice guides for women. The Ugly Truth is He's Just Not That Into You in spirit, if not in title. The message of these guides, paradoxically, is not that women should subordinate themselves to men because men are stronger and smarter. It's that women should subordinate themselves to men because men are very, very stupid and deeply, unbelievably weak.

The average straight man, if dating guides for women are to be believed, is a fragile, delicate flower, ravaged by primitive desires beyond his control, needy to the extent that he requires constant, fawning admiration (but not too much – the idea that a woman is actively pursuing sex or a relationship will scare him, as he is a skittish creature) and absolutely incapable of dealing with any sort of criticism or challenge from the women in his life. This is conveyed in the movie in a scene where Mike reveals that his macho front is a put-on, caused by dating women who "didn't like him". (The question of why on Earth he deserves to be liked is neither asked nor answered.)

A woman's natural desires – to talk about her life, to laugh at jokes that are funny, to disagree with people when they're wrong, to have real orgasms – will drive a man away, if not scar him for life. However, the advice goes, you can actually control men (to the extent that you can get them to date you) by pretending to be someone other than who you are – someone who simply delights in doing every single little thing a man wants at all times. Because men are also, fortunately, so stupid that they won't realise you're lying.

No comment.

Somebody Got Stabbed! Call In the National Guard!

I had a rather scary incident a couple of days ago. I was walking down the street about midnight to mail a letter (yes, I go out at midnight or later just to mail letters, shut up). As I was walking down a familiar street near the home I grew up in and have lived in all, my life, I began to see police cruisers parked across the street. Part of it was blocked off, a nearby house and several store fronts were cordoned off with crime scene tape. Apparently, there was a huge brawl at somebody's house party and some lady got stabbed (not to death, happily).

This made me a little nervous, first that the cops would want to speak with me, and then later as I walked about my familiar neighbourhood in the middle of the night, not quite knowing what was going on jumping at shadows and gripping my security weapons tight at any voice or figure. But that's not what scared me that night. I've been randomly stopped by the cops before, and I've been randomly assaulted before, and neither is, when you get down to it, such a big deal. Shit happens.

No, what scared me is this: I was sufficiently shaken to walk down to the 7-11 and buy some comfort food, which I've been trying to avoid. I got into a conversation with the cashier about what had happened, and quickly regretted it; the fellow was obviously a bit of a racist and anti-socialist, saying that 'natives on welfare' are responsible for 80% of crime. I feel now that maybe I shoulod have engaged a bit more, but all I really wanted at that point was to get my fucking cheezies and twinkies and get home. Then this little gem dropped out of his mouth:

"Y'know what they should do? They should call the guys from [Canadian Forces base] Dundurn down here and get them to patrol. Full gear, with guns and everything. That would quiet things down in a hurry."

No shit! I literally felt like I was going to throw up. Here standing before me was a man who was actually advocation that martial law be declared in response to a few paltry stabbings and beatings. Things a larger centre swallows without pity or remorse, as if they never existed. This man wanted people trained to kill patrolling our streets with assault rifles. His personal perception that there is seemingly a bit more violent crime now than in the past is all it takes for him to want to sign away his freedom, not to mention mine and everyone else's, and call for the formation of a police state.

Now, I don't much like the cops or what they represent, but I must admit that there are times when I'm happy to know that there's a bunch of thugs with guns out there whose primary responsibility it is to swoop down on people who are disturbing the shit and get them the hell out of my existence. I don't think it really helps that much, and would strongly prefer that 'civilians' take a more active role in defending themselves and creating justice, but I appreciate the role of the police in allowing me to go about my business without having to look sideways at everyone who passes me in the street.

This is a whole new level of fucked up. I absolutely do not want soldiers to be responsible for preserving order unless I am living in the middle of a fucking war zone. The cops, at least, are trained not to use lethal force unless absolutely necessary. The cops, at least, see the people around them as potential 'suspects' or 'witnesses' rather than as potential 'targets'. The purpose of soldiers is not to enforce the law.

And the scariest, most sickening part is that I just mumbled some excuse and walked away.

All that is required for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.