For me, personally, this past year has been a fast and hectic one that spanned two continents and cost a great deal of money. Everyone and their dogs seem to be doing Year In Review posts, and I'm no different, except I don't quite know the direction I want it to take. Personal or Newsworthy? A bit of both?

How 'bout Lemons and Laurels? The good and the bad of 2004, in no particular order.

Pat Tillman: Much has been made about the real American hero who left a lucrative football career to serve in Iraq. Pat Tillman was shot and killed overseas, at the age of 27. Anne Coulter writes in her review Highlights and Lowlifes:

American hero Pat Tillman won a Silver Star this year. But unlike Kerry, he did not write his own recommendation or live to throw his medals over the White House fence in an anti-war rally.

John Kerry & Teresa Heinz Kerry: For quotes about Laura Bush's career objectives, for using Cheney's gay daughter as an election tool, and for tossing his medals away (which makes him a tosser).

Jeremey Duncan: I covered this story back in May, about the Marine who came home from Iraq on leave, just to donate a kidney to his best friend. I received an email from his friend Jason Tulley at the end of the summer, saying he and Jeremy were both doing fine, and that Jeremy would be home in the spring.

Jermey Hinzman: The good and bad Jeremys of 2004. Hinzman is the pussy who went AWOL from the U.S. Army to come hide in Canada. And of course, a lemon must go to my own global village of Canada, for welcoming the dodger with open arms, throwing benefit concerts for him, and allowing him to apply for asylum. Thankfully, his refugee claim was thrown out of court. By the way, I discovered Hinzman has his own website now. Try not to gag.

Yasser Arafat: For finally doing something that might allow peace between Isreal and Palestine: dying.

Dan Rather: Oh Danny boy, what have you done? That liberal media crossed the line when Rather pushed a story regarding Bush's National Guard service, and relied on documents of dubious origin. Of course, the documents proved to be phoney, and Rather was tarred and feathered. There's a word for people who want so badly to believe something, who believe the lies they tell because they really want them to be true: patholigical. Unfortunately, such people do not make the best newsmen. It's not true just because you want it to be, Dan-o. It was the blogosphere that broke the story. And check out Rather Biased, a site I discovered today.

Pamie.com: Speaking of biased, I have to plug Pamie.com. It's a favorite site of mine, and has been for years. The reason I'm awarding Pamela Ribbon a laurel is the fundraising she has done for the past two years for the Oakland Public Library. This year and last she has asked her readers to refer to the Oakland Wishlists, and purchase books, since the library had their funding cut in 2003. I myself have bought three or four for them, and in total, there have been nearly a thousand donations made. The Oakland Public Library Foundation honored her earlier this year:

Pamela Ribbon, noted California author and "pop culture princess" has caused more than 600 books to be donated to the Oakland Public Library. Earlier this year, the media attention surrounding the Library's budget cuts caught the eye of Ms Ribbon, who subsequently added a page to her website, passionately asking visitors to donate a book to the Oakland Public Library through Amazon.com and directing them to their website. Her loyal following, who visit her website to read her comical "weblog" entries, immediately responded and within weeks, hundreds of new titles were added to the Library's collection. National media picked up this story and within hours stories in the Boston Globe, Washington Post and the New York Times brought in more than 600 hundred donated books.

Michael Moore: What do you get if you squeeze a fat socialist weasel? Lemonade! Not only is he the most biased documentary filmmaker since the propaganda machine of Hitler's army, but he's a failure, too. No matter how hard he tried to swing (or rock) the vote in favour of John Kerry, Bush still won.

George Bush: He might not be perfect, and he's certainly not for everyone, but he stands up for what he believes and doesn't let the bullshit get to him. Time Magazine honored him with Man of the Year. The citizens of the United States honored him with a second term.

Actually, that's not true.

They're donating $35M plus manpower to help clean up the mess in Asia from the earthquake and resulting tsunamis over Christmas weekend. That figure doesn't include the massive amounts of cash raised by private donors in the United States. Time and again, throughout history, America has proven to be one of the most generous countries in the world - if not the most - and it's not just for political gain. Sure, people don't agree with "liberating" Iraq, because the doubting Thomases see the war as being about oil. Nobody said that about the liberation of France after WWII. There were detractors, of course (there always are) saying that America sure took it's good sweet time about getting there, but remember, they didn't have to go. It was Japan they were at war with. But sometime near the 11th hour, the United States said to themselves "This thing in Europe just ain't right. What can we do to help?" Next thing you know, they were storming the beaches with the British and Canadians.

The only thing the U.S. has to gain from aiding victims of this most recent disaster is good PR. Although there is trade with the countries in question, there aren't many political ties. And yet, the Americans can't even seem to get the good press that they're due. I keep hearing people saying that they're not giving enough. How much is enough? We don't even know the extent of the damage yet, or how the funds would best be spent. There is always a rush to give money in the first instance after a disaster, just as there is always a rush to give blood. Blood wasn't needed after 9/11, you may remember, but I didn't know that when I stood in line for five hours on the 12th.

Over at Samizdata, a comment was left in the form of a letter to Bush, saying that he should give more money, or the countries would breed anti-American terrorists because he failed to do enough. You have got to be kidding me! The President lays low over the Christmas holidays, but still coughs up $35M, and they're saying he should have cut short his holidaying and spent more!

To every person who has something negative to say against any cash the Americans are fronting for the relief effort, I ask you: How much have you given? Personally. From your own pocket. Come on, give me a figure, so I can tell you that sorry, it's just not enough.

However, if you do want to help, the Red Cross is accepting donations here

American People Donate $18 Million to American Red Cross International Response Fund
Just three days after a powerful tsunami impacted countries in southern Asia and eastern Africa, Americans have generously contributed approximately $18 million to the American Red Cross International Response Fund.

and through Amazon here, where they have collected $3,096,484.23 from 53,418 private donors at the time of this posting.

And Michele at the Command Post has an excellent bunch of resource links here.

Greetings all. I just wanted to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and best wishes for the holiday season. All week I have been thinking about the soldiers who were attacked in Mosul, and all those stuck in Iraq over Christmas. You are in my thoughts and prayers, and I wish there was some way of ending this war and bringing you home. You are all very brave, and while some may not think as highly of you as they should, there will always be those in America, Britain and even in Canada who appreciate your sacrifices. Going to war isn't just a job. You have to believe in what you're doing, or you'd never be able to stand in the line of fire each day. Thank you.

Love and thanks to all,

Right Girl and Family

Michele over at A Small Vicorty posted this a couple of days ago:

Before you all go grab your latest issue of TV Guide and start circling the various holiday specials you intend to watch (A Kid Rock Christmas, anyone?), I'd like to talk to you about something.

Rudolph. Is there a creature so beloved as that red-nosed reindeer? Is there any stop-motion animated movie that tugs at your heart more? No, of course not. You will gather - and by you I mean everyone, Christians, Jews, Atheists, Satanists - in front of the tv with your children at some point in the next month to watch this time-honored tale.

Well, I'm here to put a stop to that. Rudolph is not a cuddly, warm, fuzzy story. Rudolph, in fact, is a tale of pacifism and appeasement and mental abuse.

When Rudolph is first discovered to have the light bulb nose, his father is appalled. Ashamed, he tries to cover up his son's nose. What kind of father is that? He is telling his kid right off the bat, kid, you're ugly and you embarass me. Diguise yourself in public. Right then and there someone should have called social services to tell them that there was a brute of a stag emotionally damaging his child. I mean, the poor kid has a disfigurement. They should have been helping him, not making him feel even worse about it.

So everyone eventually finds out about Rudie's nose anyhow. The kids torment him and pick on him and turn him into an outcast. He's not allowed to join in their games because he is, gasp!, different!

So what happens? Rudolph goes off on an adventure (where he comes upon the Island of Misfit Toys, but that's a whole other dissertation), where it is discovered that his nose can actually come in handy. Hey, the kid is a freak, but he's a useful freak.

The rest of the reindeer gang find out that Rudolph is going to lead Santa's sleigh through the snowstorm. You know what happens. They suddenly love him. He's a hero. Even though he's been scorned and ridiculed and isolated, the other reindeer discover that they can use Rudolph's disfigurement to their advantage, so now they'll let him in their little club.

And what does Rudolph do? He leads the damn sleigh and saves the day. Now everyone in this movie, from Rudolph's parents to his girlfriend to Santa, the other reindeer and the Yukon guy mock him throughout or at least make him feel like crap. Apparently, Rudolph has no balls.

This is all his father's fault. Dad turned Rudolph into the reindeer equivalant of a nerd when he taught Rudie to just take the abuse from his neighbors and classmates because he deserved it. After all, he was hideously deformed. In essence, he taught his son not to stand up for himself.

If Rudolph learned anything at all on his great adventure, he would have turned around and said fuck off and die you miserable bastards. Find some other sucker to save Christmas for you. And then he would take out his AK-47 and turn the whole crowd of miserable reindeer into a carnivore's dream. Then he would go back to the Island of Misfit Toys, become their ruler and plot to take over all of Rankin-Bass land.

So parents, don't let your babies grow up to be Rudolphs. Don't watch the show. Or it could be your kid standing in the middle of the forest one day, gunning down all the kids who wouldn't let him play their reindeer games.

This has been a public service announcement.

Happy Holidays, y'all.

So through a friend of a friend of a blog of a friend, I came across this new blog last week - Look At Me. I'm So Important That I Have A Blog. Even the title is great.

Here's a preview:

When I first started noticing Lance Allcock swaggering around the gym, he had a friend with him. His friend was younger with thinning blond hair but equally tall, fit, and nice looking in his own way. Lance was clearly in charge, though. This guy truly was a sidekick, following Lance around wherever he went. I imagined them sitting on the benches in the locker room, tying their shoes before their workout. "Whatta ya think, Lance? Weights today?" He'd look over eagerly at Lance.

"Naw," Lance would reply. "Bikes." And so bikes it would be.

I called Lance's friend "Autofocus."

And:

I am not blaming the woman who cuts my hair. Yelena is mostly very dependable. It’s really probably my fault for growing my hair out and arriving for my first haircut in four months with no ideas. I think I’m reluctant about showing up and saying, "I want to look like _______" because once I went to a drugstore, bought a copy of People, and went to my hairstylist and asked her to cut my hair like Jason Priestly’s. That was hard to admit, but in my defense, I grew up on the far East Side of Indianapolis, which was not at that time – nor has it ever been – a cultural hotbed. Plus, I was fourteen years old. Before you condemn me, I challenge you to get out your freshmen yearbook and take a good long look at yourself.

Now, can we just get beyond the fact that I once had a "Brandon Walsh Phase" and move on?

Darren has only been in operation a little over a week, but I think he'll be around a while. Enjoy.

Amazon has already listed Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince as their number 1 selling book - and it doesn't hit shelves until June!

Fans of the series by JK Rowling have flooded the internet bookseller with orders for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince since it was announced at noon yesterday that it would be released on July 16.

"The fact that the book has already hit number one in our chart shows how incredibly excited customers are about the sixth Harry Potter," an Amazon spokesman said.

I will be buying copies for my nephew and little cousin.

The title of my post must be a joke, you're thinking. But you would be wrong. The joke is on us, as our whining liberal former Attorney General has decided that Sharia Law should be used in Ontario's Muslim community as a method of arbitration in family and community disputes.

"Arbitration is a private action because there is no state compulsion to arbitrate," former Ontario Attorney General Marion Boyd wrote in the report, which was published on the government's Web site. "Muslims in Ontario retain, as do all Ontarians, the right to choose the traditional justice system or any alternative to it for the resolution of their disputes."

Except, I would think, for Muslim women.

I know that other religious communities use church-led arbitration in cases of divorce, abuse, custody, and small claims. For example, in very strict Jewish Orthodox communities, a woman may not be given a divorce without the Rabbi's consent. If the husband is abusive, the Rabbi almost automatically grants her request, no questions asked. If children are involved, and there is no abuse present, the Rabbi decides what is best for the kids. In issues of property, the Rabbi oversees discussion of who gets what, when a marriage or a business partnership disolves.

But to the Muslims, women are property. Children are property. And some asshat Muslim cleric will be more than happy to tell some put-upon husband to "liquidate his assets." In the Muslim community, a woman who asks for a divorce can be beaten. If she has had sex outside the marriage, she can be killed. If her husband is in debt to his business partner, she can be raped in lieu of payment.

But that's okay here in Canada. We are, after all, a very tolerant society. As long as you are not a white Christian. We can't abide by that.

For I have sinned. It's been, well, forever, since my last confession. No matter how stubbornly I try to deny it, every time the census come's round, I still list R.C. (Recovering Catholic) as my religion on the form. I've never taken communion or been confirmed. The last time I did anything other than a funeral (or a tour group) in a Catholic church was my baptism. My parents weren't hardcore, and I've fought the stigma of being a Catholic all my life. I don't share the same orthodox beliefs as they do, and I don't care for the regimental structure that says you have to be miserable all the time to secure a place in Heaven.

However, I have guilt. Lots and lots and lots of guilt. Not for big stuff - like I never killed anybody, and for some reason I never felt a lick of guilt for sleeping with a married man back in the days when I used to be interesting. Instead, I feel it for the little things.

So in no particular order of importance, here is my confession wish list. I wish to be absolved by you, my dear readers. Feel free to use the comments section to post (reasonable) acts of contrition.

1. I stole somebody's dinner. I don't know who's, and I didn't really mean to steal it, but once I had it, I didn't know how to give it back. Mr. Right and I ordered out for dinner on Friday, but accidentaly gave the wrong entry code to the restaurant. Knowing that their delivery guy wouldn't be able to get in, we went down to the lobby to wait for him. We met the guy, let him in, signed the credit card receipt without looking at it (stupid, I know), and took the bag of food upstairs to find that not only was it not what we'd ordered, but it was from a completely different restaurant!! There was no name on the bag, and we hadn't kept "our" copy of the receipt, so we didn't know who to call and tell about it. My only defense is that I actually asked the guy if he was from the restaurant we had ordered from, and he said yes. So I asked him if he was delivering to our apartment - he said yes. Turns out, "yes" was probably the only english word the guy knew. The chicken wings were really good. Too bad I don't know what restaruant they came from.

2. Haven't spoken to my father's best friend since the night he told me the Cottage burned down. I got pissed off because they'd kept the information from me for six months. I sent him a Christmas card, though.

3. I quit my horrible job. I am now temping elsewhere, but I worry constantly about making the bills (Christmas has been effectively cancelled), and if my husband's immigration claim will be affected by my change of employment. He tells me that quitting was worth it, because I don't cry every morning when I wake up now, and I don't come home depressed and angry. The job was killing me. I wouldn't have survived it - but can we survive without it? He tells me not to feel guilty - I told him that "Hey, I'm Catholic, you might as well tell me not to breathe!"

4. Because of the above, I couldn't afford to go to my friends bachelor party in Montreal before he moved to California. I feel guilty for this, although I know I shouldn't. He didn't go to mine before I moved to Scotland, either. But I am one of those people who tries constantly to keep contact with my friends, often to little or no response. I took the bold move of cutting unresponsive people off my Xmas card list this year - and I feel guilty about it!! These are people who never send me a Chrismas card, never call, didn't even send an e-card for my wedding; yet I am the one with the guilt. Out of the 34 Christmas cards I did send this year, I have received 6. And one anniversary card (it's tomorrow) from my in-laws.

Please readers, tell me to go do my Hail Marys, then grant me pardon and absolution from the commission of my sins. In time for Christmas.

It was this, or Michael Moore. Hardly a tough choice. 

I have come to realize that there is no relationship more damaging to the human psyche as that of mother and child. Literature shows us Oedipus, who killed his father and had children by his mother. Freud could trace just about any depression or psychosis in a person back to the mother, and obviously had mommy issues of his own. Robert Bloch created a character, Norman Bates, who was driven to kill his controlling mother, and then assumed her identity. Alfred Hitchcock made millions by turning that story into the most successful and widely recognized horror film of all time - Psycho. Mothers are often the brunt of Jewish comedy, with their guilt trips, their interference in personal matters, and their refusal to allow their progeny to marry outside the faith. "Why don't you ever call? When are you going to get married? Mrs. Neiderbaum's son-in-law is a doctor - why can't you meet any nice young Jewish doctors?"

I am an orphan. I lost my mother to cancer just as I was entering puberty, and my father a few years later. At the time, everyone - including me - felt terribly sorry for me. But as I grew older, I realized that maybe I was better off than some others. My best friend has done what many girls do - she has struggled against becoming her mother. She has struggled, and she has failed. In every way, she has become exactly like her mother - from her very best qualities to her very worst faults. Will this happen to me, since I have been so long without her? Or am I free to become whomever I choose? My ex-boyfriend was plagued by a controlling mother, and she was the eventual cause of our breakup. She would call my house at odd hours, looking for him, and would show up at my door unannounced. She was mean and vicious to me, as I had usurped her position as leading lady in his life. I thought I was going to have to take a restraining order out on her.

And then there's the relationship both men and women have with their mothers-in-law. This is where my husband lucked out in marrying an orphan. There was no one he had to impress but me. No one had to approve of our union, and there was no one to argue against my wearing a black dress to get married. No one, that is, except my mother in law. I ignored her ranting, and frankly would have done the same if she was my own kith and kin. I know that I have lucked out by having a relatively sane mother in law - someone who has accepted the fact that her son has another woman in his life, and just wants him to be happy - but the two of us have come to an impasse on a subject that is very important to her, and means next to nothing to me: family. Not that I begrudge those whose family units are still intact. It's simply that I don't feel a strong desire to adopt her family as my own. I married her son - not her daughters. My husband and I have a wonderful relationship, but we have chosen not to have children (a whole other war zone of a subject!). I do not like children - at all - regardless if they share my DNA, or that of my husband. Which means that I don't want to spend time with my nieces and nephews, just because his sisters think it's appropriate. My husband occasionally chooses to see them on his own. I feel that I have grown up enough to decide who I will spend my free time with - and unfortunately, due to having completely different interests and personalities, that does not include several members of my husband's family. I do, however, keep contact with his three remaining grandparents, and one of his cousins, because I happen to like them, and enjoy spending time with them. Same goes for my parents-in-law - in moderate doses! Yet his poor mother does her best to keep her children together, blames me for tearing them apart, and stubbornly refuses to entertain the notion that perhaps her son has little interest in his sisters and their new families, either.

The human race is one of the few species that insists on maintaining a relationship between parent and child past the age where the child can fend for itself. Does this make us a more civilized, evolved race - or an archaic one whose days are numbered? Have the animals got the right idea by weaning their young and letting them go? Of course, to completely shun other members of our race would lead to isolation. (I will not mention how it would also lead to violence, since our species seems to have a penchant for violence, regardless of how much or how little family a person has. The Middle East is a prime example - parents sending their children out to become martyrs to a cause they, the parents, believe in.) Isolation can lead to madness, so perhaps it's time to lay waste to the old adage "You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family." Who says? Having lost my parents at such a young age, I found that there was a huge outpouring of love and inclusion directed at me. Some of it was lip service, and disappeared quickly. But of what remained, I was able to choose to be around people who had similar interests and personalities, and our bonds of friendship grew to familial proportions. We gave each other something - comfort, kinship, understanding, and a soft place to fall. Are these not the very basic reasons for the existence of family? I cannot, however, say I had the same reaction toward my multitude of cousins, most of whom led lives I wouldn't want, and had values that I couldn't align myself with.

So I chose my family. I had good friends around me, and older ones to guide me like a proper parent would. I chose my spouse (and he chose me), and we consider each other family. What reason is there to deny that privilege to others? Perhaps they may choose to have the mothers and brothers that nature gave to them. But then again they might not. There shouldn't be any hard feelings. How many times have we seen mothers unable to connect with their children - and mothers who shouldn't be mothers at all? Those kids should have the option of finding their own soft nest, and their birth-mothers might have something very valuable to give to someone else, if not to them. If I had to do it all over, I would choose my same sire, but I would prefer to have the mother I found after mine died. I was able to bond with her in a way that my own mare's background, choices, and interests didn't allow. That would mean I would have one parent with one spouse, and another parent with another spouse, and they wouldn't all live together. So what? That's what this world has come to for many children, anyway.

 
It's been more than a decade since I've enjoyed anything other than hockey from the CBC, but last night they more than redeemed themselves. I'm not a warm and fuzzy person by nature, but I admit to being all weepy during last night's presentation of A Bear Named Winnie on CBC. Congratulations to the producers - they have a new classic on their hands. I hope it comes on again before Christmas, so I can tape it.

Sorry I haven't been around for a week or so. My parents-in-law are in Toronto for a two week stay, which is nearly at its end. By tomorrow afternoon I will have my apartment and my evenings back. Not that they've been bad guests. They buy us stuff, take us for dinner, and they've stocked my liquor cabinet very well for the holidays. Fa la la...

So the AWOL pussy (he was a cook, by the way, so his life was hardly in danger!), Jeremy Hinzman, is trying to obtain asylum in Canada. He must figure he'd be much safer in a country that doesn't even have a military.

Mr. Hinzman's claim is considered a test case. There are three other refugee claims from U.S. Army deserters that will be heard after the decision has been issued in the Hinzman case, expected in February of 2005.

Just what Canada needs. More anti-war, anti-Bush, pot-smoking, birkenstock-wearing, whining bitches.

Kofi Annan and the UN (sounds like a New Wave band from the 80's) have held a seminar into Islamophobia. There's almost no North American coverage to be found regarding this story - everything is from Europe or the Muslim countries. Check out this Google link, and you'll see what I mean.

And to top off this post, I have a complaint (not me!!). On Monday morning, I got off the subway at the St George station to make my transfer, and as I walked up the stairs, I noticed that there was a big pile of vegetables, like from a pizza or a stir fry, that had been dumped on the stairs. Okay, these things happen, I thought it would be cleaned up. It is now Thursday, and the vegetables are a grey, ground-in stain on the stairs leading to the Bloor line. I have rode the transit systems in Montreal, Toronto, New York, Paris and London. The most expensive of all of these is Toronto, and they want to increase the price in 2005. I'm not saying it isn't a good system, but it sure as hell isn't worth what we pay for it, and I'd be mighty disappointed to have to pay more in January - especially if the pizza blob hasn't been removed yet. For all the filth, you'd think it was a hospital or something.