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it begins [part two]

it seems that most people have decided that last night's second installment of the great democratic debate was the empire strikes back of political debate sequels: still in the same established universe but more complex, more engaging, and overall better than what preceded it. [don't @ me. i'm right about empire.] the first night was lacking a true focal point or major fireworks. the moment between julian castro and beto o'rourke was the high tension point of the night but it was highly technical, having to do with which sections of the law needed to be repealed or removed and which sections protected which people. made castro look great and, of course, the subject is meaningful to him as the grandson of mexican immigrants and the sole latinx vying for a presidential nomination, but it wasn't the sort of thing that resonates with people on a gut level. last night, shall we say, had one of those moments.

the decision of which candidates would appear on which night …
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it begins [part one]

despite the fact that i've been lax about posting here, i really can't resist flexing my blogging muscles to talk about the thing that will increasingly occupy my mind over the next [checks calendar]... year and a half: the 2020 american election. [you do realize that there's a canadian federal election in october, right? -ed.] last night, we saw the first real salvo in the upcoming battle. of course, dom and i tuned in, hot with anticipation to see the first chance to see ten of the twenty-four candidates running for the democratic party presidential nomination. [actually, it wasn't anticipation. it was friggin' hot here yesterday.]

tonight will see the ten others who qualified for the initial debate stage addressing the issues. i'd like to congratulate the democratic party on finding a way to deal with a huge crowd of candidates without resorting to the humiliation of the "kids table" the way that the republicans did in 2016. ten people is still a …

drive-by musings

i've written a fair bit on this blog about being a writer who waits for inspiration to strike her out of nowhere versus being a writer who puts serious work in on a daily basis and in doing so cultivates those precious lightning strikes and bottles them. i believe in and strongly encourage people to employ the latter method, as does pretty much every writer [or creative person] who is successful at this sort of thing. there have been stretches where i've been very good at this but the fact is that i slack off a lot and my brain has a tendency to grasp at multiple ideas at once without being able to relinquish any of them. basically, my brain is like someone who hasn't eaten in three days arriving at a buffet. everything looks good but the end result is that you end up with a bizarre combination of all of it that isn't nearly as satisfying as sticking to one flavour palette. [don't you dare tell me that cheese sticks go with sushi, because i will end you.]

i've…

sounds familiar

one week from today marks the sixth anniversary of the death of dr. henry morgentaler. the doctor lived to the age of ninety, no mean feat for most people but almost unbelievable in his case. born in poland in 1923, the future doctor's early life was blighted by the second world war. he and his family were trapped in the warsaw ghetto. his father was killed by the nazis for his participation in the general jewish labour party. his sister died at treblinka, having been arrested for joining the warsaw ghetto uprising in 1943. by the time his sister died, however, henry, his mother golda, and brother abraham [cited in some sources as michael] had themselves been taken to auschwitz. mother and sons were separated on arrival and golda was executed in the gas chambers. the boys remained alive, barely, and were eventually shipped to a camp that was part of the dachau complex. they were saved from certain death when the american army liberated the camp in 1945. he and his brother had bee…

white trash

yes, my lovelies, i have returned from the dead, at least for the time it takes me to write this post. this is not just another piece of observational drivel about how i haven't been taking care of the blog lately, although i clearly haven't. on that front, though, the principal cause of my absence has actually been due to me trying to get another, somewhat related project, off the ground. unfortunately, that project has met with some frustrating delays which means that anyone who follows this blog [perhaps there are still a few of you who haven't entirely given up] would understandably be left with the impression that i'd simply forsaken more like space to marvel at the complexity of my own belly button lint. [it's possible you had that impression even before i disappeared.]

ok, enough with that. i have a subject i wanted to discuss with you, in the sense that i will want and encourage you to respond with questions, concerns and criticism in the comments or by em…

so what the hell happened here?

even i'm shocked at the fact that i haven't written a blog post in a month and a half. and i'm confused by it, which many of you may not be because, hey, blogs are dead, right? well, i don't know if they're dead dead. this place gets a surprising number of daily views considering that there have been no new posts since early february. and if you're one of the regular readers who might have been checking in to see which of my regular subjects i'd be tackling next, i'm going to have to disappoint you: this post is just going to be some meaningless blather.

first of all, i didn't intend to step back from the blog- not for a month and a half, not at all. i figured i'd just keep motoring on much as i had been for the last dozen or so years, if for no other reason than it had become as natural to me as breathing or reading stuff on the internet that made me angry.

so why haven't i written anything here?

it's not because i've lacked subjec…

i'm definitely someone altogether different

about a hundred years ago, i remember having a partner who told me that, rather than writing the sort of ambiance-oriented crap [he didn't say crap, i'm saying it] that i was naturally driven to write, i should just compose something like the harry potter books. this wasn't out of any sense of challenging me to do new things but because of the desperate hope that my love of writing could be parlayed into something profitable.

my reaction at the time was "i just can't". and that was honestly how i felt because i didn't believe that that kind of story was in me. for the record, i still don't think that anything like the potter-hogwarts universe is in me. i'm not a fan of fantasy literature generally speaking and i feel like there's a richer experience to be examined in looking at our experience as regular humans being part of the rational, limited, everyday world and at the same time being able to feel connected to something that, for lack of a…