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GB has written a beautiful piece on Facebook:

"I have reported from war zones in Bosnia, Serbia, Lebanon, and Israel.

But last night's confrontation between peaceful demonstrators and riot squad police was the scariest situation I've ever been in, in almost 30 years of reporting."

-Steve Paiken, the morning after

The most recent account I've heard says that nearly 500 people were arrested yesterday- and another 50 early this morning. I wonder how many more were arrested during the police raids that awoke innocent people at gunpoint and took them away in the middle of the night before the protests on saturday. I wonder how many of these demonstrators were actually responsible for the vandalism that we saw take place yesterday, and how many were peacefully defending their right to free speech. On second thought, I don't wonder that at all - I feel a bad joke in here somewhere- how many black bloc protesters does it take to set a cop car on fire? Not 500, I know that much. And judging by the amateur videos that were taken as people walked up Yonge street, it was a relatively small group of people actually responsible for the so-called path of destruction. The media makes it seem like our city was held hostage yesterday by roaming gangs of thugs, and people watching the images of burning cop cars over and over again from the safety of their homes can say that the police did their jobs, and are justified in the measures taken, because nobody was hurt. (well, except for those peacefully demonstrating who were shot at with rubber bullets and hit over the head with batons and trampled by horse-mounted officers and tasered...) Most of us woke up this morning and had our coffee and turned on the match or whatever. Our daily routines have not been disrupted (unless we planned on getting that coffee from Tim Horton's or Starbucks...) We still have hot water, electricity, phone, Internet and cable tv. We can carry on living our lives in the comforts of a wealthy first-world nation. Our windows were not smashed in by "hooligans". Morning joggers skip over the broken glass in the streets and tell the police officers they're doing a great job as they pass by. The billion dollar price tag on security spending is justified because "it could have been a lot worse." Really? Could it have been worse? I'm looking forward to hearing more first-hand reports of those who were there, and I humbly admit to witnessing the events unfold in real time through Twitter, Facebook and YouTube. But I didn't stay home for fear of what the protesters might do. I stayed home because I did not, and do not trust that the police officers who are supposedly protecting our city will not use unnecessary and even brutal force in order to "maintain the peace." I don't believe the security measures taken yesterday prevented things from getting worse. The police stood back and allowed the small group of people responsible for the property damage to go crazy for the cameras, for the people watching at home. We saw those cars burning for an awful long time, we saw those poor, defenseless American Apparel mannequins get torn apart limb from limb. My heart does go out to independent business owners who had to deal with the aftermath, but then, I'm sure they will find compensation from their insurance companies or the gov't for their trouble. The authorities use language to dehumanize the protesters, calling them "thugs" and "terrorists" They herd peaceful demonstrators into enclosed spaces with no opportunity to escape and then arrest them one by one. They search bystanders and use intimidation tactics to prevent people from gathering lawfully in designated "free speech zones." And then they congratulate themselves for a job well done.

But then, I'm sure the physical violence used against peaceful demonstrators in order to save inanimate objects from further harm was justified. I feel safer, don't you?

The Streets are Ablazin'

The G20 is in town and I have spent the whole day (for reals, from 1 pm, when the protests started, on) glued to my computer, following the live blogs on the Toronto Star, the Globe and Mail and the CBC websites. On each feed, around five or six different reporters have been tweeting their accounts from various front lines across downtown, providing a fairly even-handed, diverse and honest picture of the protests.

I wish I could say the same for the televised news. Shots of windows being smashed and police cars burning were flashed over and over; quotes from politicians flooded in about how shocked they were (shocked, really? It's the effing G20! Not the Teddy Bear Picnic! And you spent nearly a billion dollars on security!); praise to the police for keeping us 'safe' and praise to the politicians for the foresight of added security; live camera feeds of gawkers and tourists well away from the action.

To see the propaganda machine at work was staggering and sobering. Having TV reporters say point blank that the protests were dying down while reading tweets about tear gas being fired made a joke of our news sources. That a few isolated and non-related acts of vandalism (I know a lot of windows were smashed and stores were looted but on the grand scale of the protests, those people practicing black bloc tactics comprised a tiny fraction of the protesters -- a couple hundred to ten thousand plus) made up the bulk of the coverage leaving no time to actually report on the issues being brought forward by legitimate and peaceful protesters (poverty, woman's health, indigenous sovereignty to name a few) is a black eye to Canadian broadcasters.

What especially stuck in my craw were those burning cop cruisers. I am actually too flummoxed to properly summarize so here is my point form What the Fucks:

• Why were the cars abandoned in the middle of the roads?      
• For that matter, why were there cop cars there in the first place? Every officer I've seen in the past week, in every picture posted, in every video not a single one has been in a car. Vans, horses, bikes yes but no cruisers.
• Why, in the videos of the burnings, are there NO cops? There are twenty-thousands in the city right now, millions of dollars worth, and miraculously there aren't any when a frakking car is set afire? I call bullshit. If police are charged with the public's safety then why were people, kids even, allowed to approach burning cars?
• Where were the fire trucks? One of the cars, in front of the Horseshoe, burned for like half an hour! I was choking on the smoke while walking the dogs, hours later, kilometers away. 

I'm no conspiracy theorist but so much of the car burning business seems suspect. 

But I digress... I urge everyone to follow online (check out Steve Paikin's twitter for awesome front line coverage and this for a giggle) for proper accounts of the G20 protests and make up your own minds about what is going on in my fair city. 

And, I still want to address the hundreds of arrests that have occurred at the remaining peaceful protests since police chief, Bill Blair, held his press conference about how they are only arresting known black bloc-ers but for now, I'm just real tired; powerful tired; and my eyes are kinda glazing over from nearly twelve hours of computer screen so I'm going to punch my card.

So long, see you tomorrow.

(picture from the Star)

Iggy Motherfraking Pop

This year marked my fifth consecutive NXNE and although there were no bands that started on the floor but wound up on the ceiling (Monotonix, '08), no King Khan (or BBQ and his ill-fitting turban -- praise be to the gods!), no Derek or Kevin (not a song went by where I didn't long for my favourite sharp elbows) and no four am nachos with the most boring Norwegian death metal band ever (apex of the conversation was regarding rental rates in Oslo) this may just have been the best North by Northeast to date. Bold statement? Yes, but true nonetheless and I have a gahzillion reasons to back that shit up (and a few reasons why it wasn't).

Days: 4

Bands: 25

Kilometers by bike: 48.38

Clubs/Venues: 11

Time spent waiting in line for the island show while listening to some wannabe music nerd talk about

North by Northwest and Dee La Soul and how Nuit Blanche is the biggest festival ever: 45 min.

Times "Losing my Edge" playing in my head while surveying the very young, very cool crowd at
Sneak's and the Dollar on Thursday night: 3

Pints of sweat lost: 4

Pints of sweat poured on me at YDS at Iggy: 4

Percentage of hearing lost: 18%

Beers: My mum reads this!

Arrested Development episodes watched while 'feverish' on Sunday: 16

Hours Mudhoney played: 2

Hours it felt like Mudhoney played: 106

Babies wearing noise-blocking headphones: 3

Wings eaten: 30

On a scale of 1 to 10, how disappointed I was to not talk to Derek McCormack about "The Haunted Hilbilly" at Magpie: 8

Squeegee kid armpits in my face while waiting for the Stooges to come on: 2

Times said armpits were in my face: 17

Minutes spent waiting in line for poutine from the Poutine Machine truck on the island: 15

Words spoken while eating Sneak's wings at four am on Friday between David, Troy, GB and I: 23

On a scale of 1 to 10, how impressed David was by the Les Savy Fav front-man: 12

Times GB was ID'd at Wrong Bar: 2

Times I wasn't ID'd at Wrong Bar: 2

Fights Kendra witnessed while escaping the crush of the crowd at the Stooges: 1

Fights I wanted to start trying to escape the crush of the crowd at the Stooges: 14

Puking teenagers: 2

Degrees in the Garrison: 50

Elaine Dancers (including me): 3

How long I'll be able to brag about seeing Iggy Pop and the (remaining) Stooges: Forever!

Until next year, then...

Would You Believe Me If I Said I Am Happy?

I'm getting better, stronger. Day by day, I am happier and creeping closer to being capital A Alex again. There are lows; lows that are just as debilitating and all-consuming; but those lows are getting shorter and shorter. I don't pretend to hope that one day the lows will disappear all together, but one day I will be able to actually cope with the blinding rage and the killer sadness.

Now that the fog is clearing, I have to survey the carnage, as if I'm a survivor of a tornado picking through the crushed shell of my home for bits of hope. Since all my perceptions have been broken down I can start fresh. I can decide who to have in my life and how much they can have of me; I will wade through all of my attributes and pick and choose what to carry with me and what to discard, or at least I can work at tempering the bad and celebrating the good; I will be able to be what and who I want to be; I will set up support systems so that when I start to fall there is a safety net.

Most importantly, I want to get to a point where I can help others who are going through the hell of depression. I want to tell them that I know, and that there will be relief.

When I Was a Kid, People Said What They Meant... And We Liked It!

There are some things that I really, really want to know. These are things that I feel I should have learned a veeeeeeeeeeery long time ago or rather things I assumed I would have learned a long time ago. I guess a lot of kids ask questions of their immediate elders but sadly, I was the oldest child out of my siblings and cousins; the closest 'kid' was my uncle who is eleven years older than I am and was too imbroiled in the whole moody teenager thing to really offer much guidance beyond dangling me headfirst over the toilet and nicknaming me Poohstain. And so, I was left to figure stuff out on my own. "What things are we talking about?" you ask, "like sex stuff?"Well, my darling reader, sort of. What things I am referring to are assumably (considering the sources) sexual and at twenty-six I'm still confused. And so, here is my list, please be kind and offer me some answers?

1. The whole hemorrhoids thing from Ace Ventura -- How was the lady detective's hemorrhoids the smoking gun for her transsexualism? I don't want to watch the movie again (for fairly obvious homophobic reasons, oh and because I'm not eleven) and I really don't want to throw this out there into google questions.

2. Big Pun's Don't Wanna be a Playa -- You know the song... I don't wanna be a playa no more, I'm not a playa I just crush a lot... What does crush a lot mean? When I was, I don't know, thirteen or so, I freaking loved this song despite not really understanding it, I took it for granted that I'd eventually sort it out. Sure enough I did; the little brown hairs everywhere (gag) part, the rubbing your spot, love bit, the in the hot tub, popping bubbly line I totally get, I'm even familiar with the dangers posed by drinking in a hot tub (broken glass, lower tolerance...) but I just crush a lot? No clue. Does it mean rough sex? Or like a school girl crush? Or is Big Pun just all about smushing cans against his forehead a la frat boy?

3. Wayne's World -- What is a hose beast? A psycho hose beast? When I was a kid I imagined a Seuss-like creature crossed with a garden hose. Terrifying.

4. No Diggity by Blackstreet -- I like the way you work it, no diggity, I gotta bag it up... Bag it up? Put on a condom? Take out the trash? Cover the bed in plastic because there is about to be some naaaaaaasty shit goin' down?

5. Gang Bangers -- I know what gang means and I know that bangers are delicious and to bang is something completely different from enjoying pub food (or is it????) so how come I'm so confused about gang bangers?

6. That Weird Dance Move that is Supposed to Look Like a Spanking -- You know the one, the dude holds one arm at a ninety degree angle in front of him, palm down and the other arm is snapped back and forth under the first arm in a slapping-like motion. I think I'm familiar with the logistics of the move it is meant to mimic but unless these guys are ballin' ghosts then I just don't see how that could possibly work. The charm of most dances I enjoy usually consist of perfectly replicating the act it's meant to be: the grocery cart, the sprinkler, the machine gun, the hypnotized cobra... I'm just quite confused as to the logistics of a) the dance and/or b) the, ahem, act.

7. Vanilla Ice -- I lick your boom boom down? What? I do not dig, well, maybe I do but I don't want to.

There I've revealed my embarrassing list of stuff I should know by now and as a bonus have also revealed my embarrassing suburban upbringing full of dumb movies and faux hip-hop (ok, I totally still listen to No Diggity). Help?

New Blog

Yo, yo. I've just launched another new blog here (hurray for being a lady of leisure!). Not to worry though, I'll still be keeping up this one as well.