I’m sitting on a wooden platform just outside my room that hangs over the beach at Fire Island. Steps lead down to the beach that seems to stretch forever in both directions, wild and empty except for a couple sitting on the sand in the distance. The air is sparkling with tiny crystals from the crashing waves that combine with the warm, humid air. Looking east across the water, there really is no horizon. At some distant point, the silver water and the sky become one. And beyond that? Africa? Portugal? Spain?…who knows.

I’m from Vancouver where the ocean is mostly placid because of shelter provided from the Pacific by Vancouver Island, so the crash of the mighty waves against this beach is thrilling and, in some ways, very restful. This is my favourite beach in the world. It’s both wild and immense, usually mostly vacant, and yet welcoming and calming. Somewhere to the south of me, Frank O’Hara died after being hit by a dune buggy as he walked home along the beach one night.

For anyone unfamiliar with Fire Island it’s a barrier island east of Long Island and serves as a breakwater against the Atlantic Ocean. It’s lee side protects a bay that is comparatively calm. Although Fire Island is best known in some circles as a gay destination, that is only partly true. Several communities dot its length, and two of them, Cherry Grove and The Pines, are indeed predominantly populated by gay and lesbian residents and visitors. The rest are determinately straight, although their inhabitants occasionally take a trip to the wild side and visit the Grove or The Pines to sample their distractions.

Although I don’t know how and when they came to the island, there is a large population of deer here. I don’t think they have any natural predators and, although residents think them a nuisance, it would be deeply unpopular to interfere with them. I consider them the magical guardians of the island. They’ve seen it all. They have little if any fear of humans, and it’s not unusual to open the door in the morning to find one or more exploring the patio. They don’t immediately flee when that happens. They usually just stare at me, thinking I know not what. And then they bolt. Literally. It’s as if their legs were Pogo sticks that propel them straight up and away into the brush or the mist, leaving me wondering if they were ever there at all.

I first came to Fire Island with my partner Jan nearly fifty years ago. For some reason we didn’t take the usual train and boat but, instead, took a small float plane from the East River to The Pines where we stayed with a friend from Vancouver who had a timeshare that summer. He’s dead now. And of course it had to be The Pines we visited because in those days of newly liberated young gay men it was THE place to be and certainly not the Grove that was rumoured to be filled with old gay men and lesbians. It was several years before I set foot in the Grove.

In those early post Stonewall days there were several vacation destinations that offered a kind of Xanadu for newly “out” young gay men: Mykonos, Ibiza, Provincetown, Key West and Fire Island Pines. I visited them all in fairly short order but, perhaps because of its proximity to New York, Fire Island had the strongest gravitational pull.

And then there is the tea dance. I’ve never been sure why tea dances are called “tea dances” although I suspect the name is a riff on English high tea or some such similar event. They began in New York in the 1950’s and 60’s and reached their apogee at The Pines. They continue around the world to this day but nothing could compare to their heyday at the Pines.

My first encounter with that tea dance was with Jan when we were a newly minted couple on our first vacation together. I’d never seen or heard anything like it. It was on a deck adjacent to the Botel and above the dock. On our first night on the island and after an early dinner with our host and his partner we all headed to tea dance. It wasn’t hard to find as the boom boom of the disco echoed across the island and bay, a kind of tribal call to the bacchanal.

And there it was. A sea of dancing half naked men, some so entranced with the music they were completely oblivious to anything else around them. Men danced alone, in couples and in groups. Groups formed dispersed and formed anew. And oh did we dance and dance. To Donna Summer, our reigning disco queen until she became born again and nearly ended her career, Grace Jones, Thelma Houston, The Weather Girls, Gloria Gaynor, Chaka Khan, Patti Labelle and on and on, mostly black women, but also Sylvester, a gay black man.

The opening cords of “Love to Love You Baby” by Donna Summer, or the Weather Girls’ “It’s Raining Men”, brought everyone to the dance floor and deck. And what a mix: bespectacled skinny guys, muscle boys, men whose face and body you had seen only hours before on a billboard in Manhattan advertising Calvin Klein underwear but, once on the dance floor, all were equal, writhing, stomping, shouting and singing the lyrics. An absolute celebration of freedom, of the tearing down of the walls of bigotry and hatred and alienation we all experienced growing up. This was our tribe and, as long as we were with it, nothing could harm us.

After that first tea dance, and probably one or two too many cocktails, I wandered down the boardwalk to the famous, or infamous if you like, “meat-rack” (don’t ask). Sometime later, when I stumbled into our bedroom where Jan had been waiting and seething, he hit me. Not a gentle tap…a full thrown punch. I deserved it and, for the record, neither of us ever hit the other again over the next ten years together. Come to think of it, taking my new partner to Fire Island in the seventies might not have been the brightest thing to do.

Fire Island has been a destination for famous gay visitors since at least 1882 when Oscar Wilde visited Cherry Grove during his trip to America. It’s not unusual to run into a celebrity on the island. Some of them maintain homes here. My most memorable encounter was seeing Truman Capote, naked but for a Panama hat, sitting on the beach like a little Buddha, surrounded by his acolytes. It was a long way from “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” (although, apparently, he wrote the first draft on Fire Island). Less famous, but in our circles in those days certainly noticeable, seventies gay “soft” porn star Casey Donovan seen tossing a Frisbee with another god on the beach. Don’t stare. Act nonchalant. Keep walking.

The list of poets, writers, dramatists, and actors on the island over the years reads like a whose who of twentieth century American literature and theatre. A couple of years ago I decided to walk from the Grove to the Pines, not on the beach but on the bay side. I had forgotten how difficult that is. Once the boardwalk runs out, and then the sand trail, there are patches that are almost impenetrable, at least after recent rain. Several areas would qualify as a swamp. Confronted with this, I didn’t turn back but pushed on, finally emerging covered in insect bites, scratches from countless brambles and branches and ruined new shoes. In front of me was a fairly large old house, covered in weathered shingles and seemingly empty. In fact, not just empty, it seemed abandoned although all the windows were still in place. I felt like a child in a Grimm Fairy Tale stumbling upon a sinister house in the woods. It was only later I found out the house had been the home/lodging of some famous poets/writers/dramatists. My difficulty now is I can’t remember which ones although it could have been some combination of Frank O’Hara, Joe LeSueur, Mark Blitzstein, John Ashbery, W.H. Auden, Truman Capote, James Baldwin, Edmund White, Felice Picano, Terrence McNally and on and on because they, and so many others, worked and played on the Island. And that doesn’t even include the women who preferred the Grove. Imagine if the walls of that old house could talk.

And, at least in The Pines, there were (are) those other houses. Magnificent modern glass and wood structures, most placed so as to look out across the beach to the crashing ocean below, their owners some of the most famous names in fashion, design and entertainment. Canada’s own Arthur Erickson and his partner owned one of the most spectacular. It’s still standing, although I have no idea who owns it now.

Although the best way to get invited to parties at any of these houses was to be a) very rich or b) very good-looking, I somehow managed to get a few invites. I don’t remember much about them except they always included a swimming pool, many beautiful people and many more stimulants than anyone should consume.

It seemed like the party would never end. Until it did as the shroud of AIDS crashed down upon it. As in the rest of America, AIDS didn’t arrive all at once on the island. At first there were only a few isolated cases of whatever this disease was. And then there were more. And more. And more. Until the tribe was completely decimated. I had friends who went to Fire Island every summer and who, after they both became ill, angrily condemned the place as if it, not the disease, was the enemy. They’re both dead now, as is Jan, also from that plague.

Fire Island became a very sad place for me. The first time I visited after Jan’s death, sometime in the late eighties, I found myself alone after dinner one evening, sitting at the top of one of the staircases that led down to the beach. It was a clear warm night with the moon shining across the open Atlantic. The waves, while still crashing against the shore, seemed to have subsided somewhat. I felt indescribably sad and haunted. It was as if all the boys were hovering around me, all of them long dead. I left the next day and didn’t return for many years, going instead to Key West which was also a wonderful place to get off the grid but, in my case, with no memories.

Then, about five years ago, I decided to return to Fire Island, although this time I chose to stay in the Grove (it seemed more age appropriate). The island is still haunted but not in a bad way for me at least. When I’m alone on the beach or sitting as I am now above it, I feel the boys again as if they are encased in some kind of special golden memory, their spirits reaching out to me, calming me, reassuring me, beckoning me.

Just sayin

G

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Two months ago two Canadian media outlets began running stories detailing alleged Chinese interference in Canada’s elections. The stories were based upon leaked documents from Canada’s most senior security agency, CSIS, and, amongst other things, detailed interference by China in the nominating and election process in the last two federal elections. The alleged interference included “under the table” contributions to China’s preferred candidates, spreading disinformation about candidates amongst the Canadian Chinese diaspora, and helping to stack nominating meetings. Subsequently, further information came out suggesting China tried to pressure at least one Chinese Canadian MP, using the fact he still has family in China, to try to stop him criticizing The People’s Republic of China. The alleged interference had, as one of its goals, the re-election of the Liberal government of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau in 2021, albeit in a minority.

As well as these allegations of interference there were also claims China had established “police stations” in certain Canadian cities, including Toronto and Vancouver, from which it could exert improper influence over members of the Canadian Chinese diaspora. Similar allegations appeared in other western countries including the United States.

After China’s behaviour over the past few years it probably should have surprised no one in Canada that it was a bad actor, moving to undermine western democracies and supplant them as world leaders with its perverse form of state capitalism and authoritarian control. And yet Canadians seem to have been caught by surprise that all this was happening so close to home. A public uproar followed with demands for a public inquiry where witnesses could be compelled to testify under oath and documents could be subpoenaed. A majority of the House of Commons voted for an inquiry although that vote is not binding on the government.

And how did the government respond to all this? Initially it tried to ignore the news. Then it claimed to have no prior knowledge of the alleged interference. When the story kept growing it tried to play the racist card, implying the now almost daily news was fuelling anti Chinese hate, leading to discrimination against Chinese Canadians and was, somehow, very un-Canadian. Then, in a move worthy of Watergate and the Pentagon Papers, it turned its attention to the leaker, presumably someone with full security clearance in CSIS who was risking jail by providing the information to the press. The government wanted us to believe the real problem, the real scandal here, was that someone deep within our security establishment was violating his or her oath of office and was spilling secrets.

But the public outcry continued so, while resisting calls for a full public inquiry, the government appointed a “special rapporteur”. This being Canada, we weren’t particularly surprised at the exotic title although some of us had to run to our English/French dictionary to learn it was simply someone appointed to report on a proceeding and the “special” was just a bit of fluff. The person named to this position was The Right Honourable David Johnson, former Governor General of Canada and university president and, rather surprisingly, a former member of the Pierre Eliot Trudeau Foundation that exists to further the values of the former Prime Minister who, in case you missed it, was also the father of the current Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau. Not surprisingly, critics noted the conflict of interest and went on to detail Mr. Johnson’s role as an old friend of the Trudeau family and someone with a history of friendly dealings with China. Except for the conflicts of interest, he seemed to fit into the long line of wise, older statesmen that Canada turned to when it needed advice on difficult questions. But that’s a very big exception.

Mr. Johnson has now issued his initial report. Most, myself included, thought his appointment was a fig leaf to allow the government to climb down from its adamant opposition to a public inquiry and expected one to proceed. We were wrong. In a stunning act of political deafness, the Special Rapporteur didn’t recommend a public inquiry and, not at all surprisingly, the Prime Minister won’t overrule him on that decision. I’m guessing Prime Minister Trudeau thinks Mr. Johnson’s decision gives him political cover. Boy is he wrong.

The questions requiring a public inquiry are not primarily about the extent of China’s meddling in Canada’s elections or its attempts to intimidate Chinese Canadians. It seems most of us agree the meddling is happening, needs to be exposed and countered and that, going forward, much greater attention and resources should be committed to protecting our elections. Even Prime Minister Trudeau and the Special Rapporteur agree on that, or at least that’s what they say. But the primary objective of a public inquiry should be to uncover whether, and to what extent, the federal Liberal government was complicit in the meddling, either because of willful ignorance or because of partisan considerations in the elections. In other words, what did the Prime Minister and his government know, when did they know it and what did they do about it? If, as the Prime Minister claims and the Special Rapporteur seems to support, they knew nothing about it until it was exposed by the leaks and media, why is that?

Canadians are well past the time when a distinguished gentleman (almost always a man) could calm our fears by assuring us everything was fine and we should trust him and the government. That would be so even if Prime Minister Trudeau’s track record wasn’t so littered with ethical lapses, equivocations and evasions. The simple fact is millions of Canadians do not believe either the Prime Minister or the Special Rapporteur on this matter and that profoundly undermines confidence in Canada’s democratic institutions. The dictators in Beijing must be smiling.

Having criticized the Liberal government I should also acknowledge that none of the three opposition parties are distinguishing themselves on this file either. The Leader of the Official Opposition, Pierre Poilievre, continues to engage in shameless partisanship, relying on his trademark puerile, childish and glib throw away lines while relentlessly offering ad hominem attacks on David Johnson. The Leader of the Bloc Quebecois, Yves-Francois Blanchet, doesn’t seem to have a position on the issue except being fearful the Liberals might entrap him in some kind of gag agreement, and the Leader of the NDP, Jagmeet Singh, while saying many of the right things, continues to provide the Liberals with support in their minority position. He, above all the others, has the ability to make a difference on this by making his continuing support for the government contingent upon a public inquiry.

I don’t know if a public inquiry will result but, if it doesn’t, Canada’s democratic institutions will be weakened and the future of the Liberal government in the next election will be even less certain. I’m guessing they know that which kind of begs the question: “what are they trying to hide?” because the only thing worse than alienating Canadians through their intransigence would be a inquiry exposing their complicity.

Just sayin

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There was an article recently in the Vancouver Sun that announced the departure of the General Manager of the Vancouver Park Board. It didn’t say anything about her sexual orientation but, judging from the reporter’s tortured misuse of pronouns, it’s probably safe to conclude she considers herself transsexual. The article was filled with “they’s” and “them’s” where, to anyone with even a passing familiarity with the English language, a singular pronoun should have been used. Harmless? Maybe. Or maybe not.

I have the advantage of growing up with English as my native language. In fact I taught it at SFU for two years in the early seventies, and yet even I had trouble making sense of the article. I can only imagine the confusion people for whom English is a second language must feel when they encounter usage that defies everything they have been taught about English grammar. And after all, language is for communication, not confusion.

“But, but” you say “if that is how she wishes to be referred to then it must be honoured”. Why? If I decide I would like to be described as “Sir” or “Madame”, or something even more unusual, do I have the right to impose that on everyone else? Obviously not.

All of this caused me to consider the increasingly loud role transgender people are playing in the public discourse, both in Canada and, most notably, the United States. I do not pretend to know much about transgender people. In fact, I don’t believe I know any personally. I have the impression the actual number of genuinely transgender people in the general population is vanishingly small. In my experience the overwhelming majority of people are born as heterosexuals; a relatively small percentage as homosexuals; and an even smaller percentage as bisexuals. I understand there are others who don’t quite fit any of those three categories and who are misgendered, and I think they should be treated with compassion and respect and should be supported as they make informed medical choices about their bodies and lives.

That said, at what point does accommodation become oppressive? And I’m not just talking about breaking the rules of grammar here because we now find ourselves at a point where, in some circles, it is anathema to question the verities spokespeople for the transgender community are putting forward. Even the sainted J.K. Rowling ran afoul of the transgender police when she had the temerity to suggest that transgender women who had transitioned from male to female were not the same as women who were born biological women and, presumably, the same observation would apply to transgender men who have transitioned in the opposite direction. I would have thought there was nothing even remotely controversial about Rowling’s comments, that they were simply a statement of the obvious facts, but apparently I was wrong as the concerted attempt to shut down the conversation descended upon her and her supporters.

And while I’m on the subject, when did the transgender community become the dominant voice in the so-called 2SLGBTQIA+ community? I don’t even know what all those symbols stand for and, speaking now as a gay man, no one asked me whether I wanted to be grouped in with that peculiarly complex alpha/numeric “community”, or whatever it is. What’s more, I don’t believe most gay men have much in common with all those other groups and that including us with them is putting the hard won gains for equality for the gay community at risk. While it starts with attacks on transgender people by hard right politicians and religious groups, which I certainly think are wrong, there are already early signs of that wedge being expanded to attack the rights of gays and lesbians.

Confused yet? I certainly am.

I wish no harm to men and women who believe they inhabit the wrong sex and I support their having access to proper medical care, including transition therapies, where that is medically appropriate. That’s the easy part. It becomes much more difficult when the conversation includes minors and I’ll leave that to another day (or perhaps to someone with more courage than me).

Just sayin

G

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This week British Columbia embarked on a new era responding to the use of illicit drugs. After receiving an exemption from the federal government, the province will no longer treat the possession of small amounts of drugs for personal use as a crime. In other words, police will no longer enforce the Criminal Code provisions outlawing the possession and use of illicit drugs in B.C. At least in theory, they will continue to take action against traffickers although it’s not clear how easily the line between trafficking and possession for personal use will be drawn. It’s unlikely there will be much change initially as B.C. had effectively decriminalized possession of these drugs some time ago. The longer term may be another matter.

Advocates for drug addicts are claiming this step is too little, especially as it only applies to the possession of no more than 2.5 grams, excludes minors and continues to criminalize drug trafficking. Opponents of the measure argue it will increase the number of people using drugs and acting out on the streets of B.C.’s cities and towns.

Decriminalization is part of the continuing response to the drug crisis that has roiled the province, and particularly the lower mainland, for the past decade. It’s supporters argue it will reduce deaths from drug overdoses (or the consumption of toxic drugs) and will open a path for treatment free from the stigma of criminality for drug users.

There have been over 10,505 drug related deaths in British Columbia since April, 2016. Currently there is an average of more than six deaths per day, and there are approximately 90 drug overdose cases requiring an ambulance/paramedic response per day in the province. Aside from the human tragedy, the drug crisis is costing taxpayers an enormous amount of money and almost everyone agrees we need to change how it is being addressed. However, this latest change seems unsupported by evidence and reeks of desperation by people who have run out of ideas. British Columbia has led the country in initiatives such as “safe injection sites” and the provision of “safe” drugs to addicts, all with the goal of reducing mortality amongst users. And yet the death toll continues to rise and the chaos users inflict on the rest of us increases.

As I have said before, one of the reasons for the failure of the existing approaches is that they are all based on the belief that the highest, indeed the only, priority is reducing deaths from the use of poisonous drugs. And that’s why everything thus far has emphasized facilitating drug use, as long as the drugs are “safe”. The decriminalization experiment in B.C. is being presented as part of that same suite of actions but, unlike those that focus on “safe” supply, it seems to go in the opposite direction, lowering the barriers for the purchase and possession of street drugs. When I hear its advocates I keep feeling I am missing something, their certainty it will lessen use being almost persuasive. Except the facts don’t back that up. Not at all.

Supporters of decriminalization, including the responsible cabinet minister, use predictable and empty words and phrases like “de-stigmatizing” and “respecting” and “creating a pathway for treatment” and yet there is precious little, if any, data to support the notion that decriminalizing the possession of illicit drugs will be effective in channelling addicts into treatment and reducing the amount of disorder in our towns and cities unless it is accompanied by a rigorous program connecting it to treatment, support and, where necessary, incarceration.

Under the new regime police officers will simply give a card with information on where to seek treatment and support to those found possessing and using the illicit drugs. You heard that right: a card. No follow up, no new commitment of resources to addiction treatment, no onus on the addict and no consequence for his/her continuing anti social behaviour. And the likely mid term result will be an increase in usage, more overdoses, more deaths and more street crime committed against law abiding citizens and businesses. This is not okay.

The closest jurisdiction to embark on a similar path is Oregon which voted to decriminalize possession of small amounts of drugs in 2020. It was expected that removing the legal sanctions and stigma would create an environment where addicts would access treatment for their illness, and yet there has been little uptake of the treatment option and the state continues to lead American states in percentage of addicts and drug overdoses. And there is no reason to think it will be any different in B.C. In fact, it is a near certainty there will be more drug addled people on the streets of its cities and towns and more people acting in anti social ways.

Portugal is also held up as an example where decriminalization has helped stem the tide of addiction and death. But this comparison fails to acknowledge the crucial details of the Portuguese approach including treatment, support and, where appropriate, coercion. In British Columbia there is no such structure and, as far as I can see, little real commitment by the current government to create one . I note the opposition Liberals have recently announced a program that would commit the resources and policies that are required.

A comprehensive and effective approach to the crisis must acknowledge the rights and interests of non addicts. It must tie access to “safe” drugs to commitments to treatment. It must include an increase in resources to support police and border agents fighting the importation, manufacture and sale of deadly drugs into and in Canada. And, where addicts are unwilling or unable to participate effectively in treatment programs and continue to commit anti social acts, it must provide for their separation from the rest of society. This type of program requires city, provincial and federal governments to come together and treat this like the crisis it is.

This used to be a big city problem, generally associated with Vancouver and, especially, the Downtown Eastside, but it has metastasized, first to Vancouver’s suburbs and now across the province from Fort St. John to Prince George to Kelowna to Nanaimo and Victoria. Innocent people are being attacked and sometimes killed, businesses are being robbed and vandalized and the sense of security Canadians are entitled to is being seriously eroded. Several explanations are offered for the increasingly violent anti social behaviour by drug users, including the heightened toxicity of the illicit drug supply causing brain damage that may not be reversible. Last week a columnist in The Globe and Mail suggested we will just have to get used to this new normal because there is nothing in the near future that will address it effectively. I don’t know where he lives, but as someone who has lived in the downtown core of Vancouver for over fifty years I am not willing to give up so easily on my city.

So how do we get there? How do we persuade politicians at all levels of government this is a crisis that requires their immediate and complete attention? Last week there was a demonstration in Nanaimo by citizens and businesses fed up with the continuing deterioration of their city because of the behaviour of drug addicted people. This reminded me of the battle against prostitution in the West End of Vancouver in the 1970’s. Of course that was a much smaller and more isolated problem, and the methods used to address it aren’t by any measure appropriate or sufficient to address the current crisis, but the memory of a neighbourhood under siege rising up and taking direct action (amongst others, the “Shame the Johns” movement) and then pressuring the provincial government to try a novel, and ultimately effective, legal strategy to move the prostitutes out of the neighbourhood reminds me that angry and motivated citizens can make a difference.

I get the desperation people whose lives are directly impacted by the drug crisis feel. I also understand the frustration of elected and healthcare leaders trying to grapple with it. But the solution is not pursuing policies and programs supported by nothing more than a hope and a prayer and that is all that is behind the decriminalization experiment. It’s an experiment with very little data to support it and those of us who live in the affected towns and cities are its guinea pigs. We are the ones who will bear the brunt of increased drug use and related crime and we are the ones who should let political leaders know that’s not okay and we will hold them accountable for its failure, whether they are at the municipal, provincial or federal level.

Just sayin

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Two weeks ago the Russian parliament passed a bill that bans what it describes as “gay propaganda” which effectively makes it illegal to be an openly gay person in the Russian Federation. Not one member of parliament voted against it and it was subsequently signed into law by President Putin.

In Hungary, Poland and Turkey elected leaders consistently use the boogeyman of gays vs. traditional Christian and Muslim families to rouse their supporters while inciting hatred and violence against gay men and lesbians.

Across the United States, Republican legislators have tabled over three hundred anti-LGBTQ bills in 2022 alone. In the run up to the 2022 midterms Republican candidates spent tens of millions of dollars on political ads attacking the LGBTQ community. This was all part of an escalating gay panic campaign to gin up their base and foment hatred and violence against gay Americans.

In Africa, nation after nation is adopting laws that outlaw homosexual behaviour and enforce that prohibition with jail time and, in some cases, death.

And across the Muslim world gays are hunted down, persecuted, whipped, tortured, imprisoned and murdered for no other reason than their sexual orientation.

Three weeks ago a man armed with a semi automatic rifle and a handgun entered a Colorado Springs gay club and killed five patrons while injuring eighteen others before being taken down by some of the other patrons and, ultimately, the police.

On June 12, 2016 a man entered a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida and killed forty nine people and wounded fifty three.

Even in New York, that bastion of liberal tolerance, attacks on the gay community are increasing.

Which brings me back to the questions: why do they hate me? What have I and my fellow gay men and lesbians done to deserve this response?

Fifty years ago this year I came to understand and accept that I was gay. And just to be clear, I didn’t choose that sexual orientation. It was just the way I was. This was only three years after the Stonewall riots that, symbolically at least, unleashed the gay rights movement in the United States, and three years after Canada, thanks to Prime Ministers Pierre Trudeau and John Turner, removed its laws making sexual relations between consenting adults of the same sex illegal.

In the half century since then I have encountered my share of discrimination and homophobic hate although I never let it define me or limit my life and career ambitions. I have tried to be a good citizen of Canada; paying my taxes, taking part in the political processes that shape our democracy, supporting causes and charities where there was a need, speaking out on issues affecting us all and generally being a law abiding citizen of my city, province and country.

And yet I have always known I don’t have to go too far to encounter people who hate me because of who I am. I know I’m fortunate to live in Canada where tolerance of this hatred has diminished significantly over the past fifty years although there’s still a pretty significant gap between feeling it and saying it. And I’m grateful for the institutional and legal progress that has made life for gays and lesbians in Canada easier.

But I’m still stuck with the question: why do they hate me and everyone like me?

I’m as familiar as anyone with the standard answers to that question: the proscriptions in the three major Abrahamic religions; the insecurity of some heterosexual men; the surfeit of testosterone in young men and their need to demonstrate their virility; the shameless behaviour of politicians who, regardless of their private lives and beliefs, use the anti gay trope to incite and motivate their supporters; the legacies of colonialism in Africa and parts of Asia; the belief that gay men particularly lead privileged lives and look down on the rest of society without doing their fair share to support it; the fear that children will somehow be attracted to, or groomed for, a gay life ending the hopes of their parents for future generations. All of the above or just some of them.

I’m not going to spend time responding to, or commenting on, these motivating factors. Others have done so quite effectively. But what I’m still left with is “why the deep, murderous, animus”? And even when one or more of these factors explains particular behaviours or actions, they don’t explain the hatred because, ultimately, there is nothing rational about that hatred at all. And yet it continues.

Human societies are complex organisms and, in many respects, not that far removed from tribalism although one of the hopeful developments in the twenty first century is the emergence of multi cultural and multi ethnic societies, like Canada’s, that push back against that tribalism. For whatever reason, tribes don’t like outsiders and the more different a person is the the more likely he or she is going to be seen as an enemy. This is particularly true when the tribe comes under stress and looks for scapegoats. Often, although not always, the first scapegoat is gay men and, to a lesser extent, lesbians, followed at least in Western history, by Jewish people.

I am in the final decades of my life and I am deeply troubled to see the wheel of prejudice and discrimination against gay people and lesbians coming back around, not because it will have much effect on me (it won’t), but because it lays waste all the optimism that we as a species can get beyond the nightmares of our past and exposes our savage, cruel animal nature.

Not exactly something to be proud of.

Just sayin

G

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Three weeks ago Global News broke a story on Chinese interference in Canada’s 2019 election. It reported that the Chinese consulate in Toronto siphoned a significant amount of money through an elected member of the Ontario Legislature to eleven different campaigns, both Liberal and Conservative. It didn’t name the Ontario legislator or identify the eleven campaigns. The story indicated that some, but not all, of the candidates who benefited from the Chinese largess were “witting” affiliates of the Chinese Communist Party. If this is true they are Fifth Columnists or, call it what it is, traitors to this country.

The story also identified four Chinese “police stations” in Ontario, with the implication there may be others elsewhere in the country, that are used, amongst other things, to put pressure on Chinese Canadians to force them to return to the Peoples’ Republic of China (the “PRC”) where the government wants them. It also noted the continuing campaign by the PRC against Canadian elected officials who have been critical of the genocide of Chinese Uighurs. This is clearly a violation of Canadian sovereignty and deserves an immediate and forceful response.

After the nearly three year detention of Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor as hostages by the PRC, and its other thuggish behaviour towards Canada, it should surprise no one that it would actively meddle in a Canadian election or try in other ways to undermine our democracy. If we’ve learned nothing else from these past few years, it’s that China doesn’t play by the rules that created the post Second World War world order unless it’s in its interest to do so. Otherwise, any action is fair game.

The Global News report stated that Canadian intelligence officials have been warning the Liberal government of these malign Chinese actions for years with little result except, occasionally, a public “warning”. What is especially noteworthy in this latest instance is the claim by CSIS that the Prime Minister and other ministers were briefed on the election interference in early 2022. Eleven months passed before Canadians were made aware of the Chinese interference and then only because of the investigative reporting of Global News. What gives?

The most immediate and effective way to respond to news of election interference is to let it see the light of day, to broadcast it far and wide across this country and to name those individuals who have willingly and knowingly participated in it. If some candidates and campaigns did so unwittingly, let them explain that. And yet the government remained silent until it was forced by the news reports to respond.

Prime Minister Trudeau’s first specific response to the reports was to deny that he had any knowledge of campaigns or candidates accepting the Chinese money. Specifically he stated:

“I do not have any information, nor have I been briefed on any federal candidates receiving any money from China” (response to question from Global News).

I don’t believe him.

In fact, when pressed and asked a less specific question, he didn’t respond to the question but stated instead:

“These media reports…We asked our security officials to follow up on them. I’ve asked them to give all information that they can share, that they can with a parliamentary committee looking into it. Again let me be very clear. I have no information.”(response to question from Global News).

Important context here: the Prime Minister had just participated in the G20 summit where he was criticized by Chinese President Xi for leaking the contents of a conversation they had concerning, amongst other things, Chinese interference in the Canadian election. And yet he still insisted he had no information on the matter.

I’m tired of being lied to by this Prime Minister. I’m tired of his tortured parsing of language to arrive at a word or statement that while, maybe technically true, is profoundly misleading. It reminds me of that past master of such behaviour, President Bill Clinton, who, memorably, during the Monica Lewinsky scandal, stated emphatically “I did not have sex with that woman”, presumably relying on a very narrow definition of what constitutes “sex”.

All of this begs the question “why?”. Why would the Prime Minister not want the Canadian people to know about this Chinese interference? And the simple truth is I don’t know, although there is lots of room for speculation. Is it just his congenital inclination to view the PRC positively? Is it an election calculation, fearing disclosure might alienate Chinese Canadian voters in key ridings? Is it because of the deep financial interests that many Liberal luminaries have with the PRC? Is it because he is fearful some of his Liberal MP’s might be tainted by this information? Is it because he is genuinely cowed by the PRC and, particularly, President Xi? Or is it because his first reaction is always to hide and deflect anything that might reflect badly on him or his government? Or is it all of the above?

Actually, the reason is far less important than the fact Canadians are being gas lighted by their Prime Minister and his government and the failure to confront the Chinese head on will only invite further meddling by the PRC.

Just sayin,

G

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I originally posted this blog two years ago. In light of current developments and the second anniversary of this act of barbarism, thought I should post it again.

G

Note: I have been struggling for a week now; struggling to find language that would capture my feelings on the downing of the Ukrainian airliner with the loss of so many lives, including fifity seven Canadians. Language seldom fails me, but this time it has. This is the best I can do.

We’ve all been there. Those few moments after lift off where the worries, anxieties, fears all begin to gradually recede. When the chaos of the terminal is now settling into something like order. The babies are still crying but then why wouldn’t they, experiencing the pain of changing air pressure for the first time. But they are held tightly in their mothers’ arms, their eyes locked in an embrace of absolute love and security. Older children are still having trouble containing their excitement as the lights below burst out in a magnificent display and then begin to shrink as the distance grows and they recede. After the initial bumps of takeoff; after the barely suppressed fear of subjecting yourself to those superhuman forces that hurl you into the air, you begin to relax. Maybe it would be okay to recline the headrest a little? What does that bell mean…probably someone hitting the wrong button. The captain announces we’ve just passed six thousand feet, climbing to thirty two thousand before levelling off and heading west. The energy, the anxiety, the tension; now slowly replaced with memories. Was the trip what you expected? Did you have fun? Are you sad to be leaving? Are you looking forward to home? When will you get back again?

And far below, a faceless, nameless technician is staring at a radar screen, tracking something that looks like an incoming missile. He’s on high alert because Iran fired rockets at an American base in Iraq a few hours ago. And now they are waiting for the American response. Perhaps he should check with civil aviation before reacting. But there isn’t time. Just ten seconds. He reaches up, pushes a button or two, turns a dial, pulls a lever, or whatever. And instantly the Russian Tor missile springs to life, a bit like a grasshopper as it jerks into place and then leaps off its launch pad. And, just for good measure, thirty seconds later he does it again.

For a few seconds, it is quite a pretty sight; the paths of the Tor missiles. They create perfect purple arcs against the dark but starlit sky. In fact, at first, it’s hard to notice that they’re heading for what looks like the brightest star. But then there’s an explosion, a brief burst of light and energy. And then another. And then nothing.

The Tor missile is not designed to penetrate the target. No, once its radar locks on to the target it hurdles towards it with deadly accuracy before exploding just before impact, perhaps twenty or thirty feet away. That way, the entire target will be engulfed in firey shrapnel and exploding rocket fuel. It will tear through the fuselage of the aircraft and then through everything and everyone inside it.

Imagine if you can, but of course none of us can, that moment of indescribable, unthinkable horror as the quiet scene inside the plane is instantly transformed into something not even Dante of Breugle could conjure. Limbs torn off. Heads torn off. Blood everwhere. The baby who seconds before was secure in its mother’s arms, now a lump of bloody screaming pulp, while in the aisle another is incinerated in howls of agony.

And for how long did this agony last? Well, for some at least, an eternity. But for the immediate victims, certainly minutes. A minute is a very long time. Double that. Triple it. It really doesn’t matter. It is forever.

And on the outside, the plane rumbles, twists and then falls. Until it is all over in a shower of light, of flames, of bodies, of metal. What did it smell like at that moment? Burning rubber? Check. Burning fuel? Check. Burning flesh? Check. Whatever it smelled like there, it was nothing compared to the nauseating stench that rose and spread from Tehran to Moscow to Washington.

As all around, the tiny innocuous signifiers of life are scattered, some barely scarred by the tragedy: a child’s slipper; a school notebook; a stylish stilletto pump; a shirt.

And this was done by men. There are times I deeply wish I could believe in Hell.

And now the blame game is in overdrive. Fingers pointing. Vehement denials. False accusations.

While all the while, fifity seven innocent Canadians and nearly a hundred other souls with some connections to this country, lie dead and dismembered on a soccer field on the outskirts of Tehran; the wavelets of grief sweeping everywhere across the world but nowhere more than here, in Canada, their home.

Look at their pictures. Read their names. Spend a moment on their stories. All, seemingly without exception, the best and the brightest amongst us; all stepping forward to contribute to their country and the world; and now all senselessly taken in a grotesque act of violence that followed another grotesque act of violence that followed another grotesque act of violence and on and on and on.

The first impulse is rage; then grief; then despair and finally disgust. How could this have happened? How could it not have? Despite all our glorious progress, human beings are still base animals, capable of the unthinkable and able to return to cycles of hatred and violence as if at the flip of a switch.

The conflict that led to this tragedy didn’t begin with the killing of an American contractor or the storming of the U.S. embassy in Bahgdad or the killing of General Soleimani or the launch of the Iranian missles in response to that killing. In fact, it didn’t even begin at The Battle of Thermopylae twenty five hundred years ago. People and tribes; beliefs and religions; dogmas and hatreds, ever more deadily as mankind “advances”.

We try to overcome, to organize, to channel the dark into a single human community. But still we have the bodies in the soccer field outside Tehran. And it keeps happening.

There is now no doubt the plane was shot down by Iranian ground to air missiles (made in Russia) when Iranian air defence determined it was an incoming cruise missile, presumably in retaliation for the firing of the Iranian missiles at the U.S. and Canadian military base several hours earlier. How that could have possibily happened defies understanding. Why was the airspace even open to commercial airliners if an attack was imminent? How could there have been so little information shared between the Iranian military and their civil aviation authorities about the flights in and out of the busy international airport? And, because we know they were there in the sky, what did the Americans know and when did they know it?

There is so much blame to go around. The Iranian state and its mullah leaders have gone rogue for years, attempting to foment conflict all over the middle east with the goal of pushing the western powers out and then consolidating itself as the predominant and Shia power in the region. In this regard, it seeks more than even Cyrus. It is responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocent ciivlians, both in the middle east and elsewhere, not to mention thousands of soldiers, including Canadians. It thrives on the type of sectarian hatred civilization struggles to put behind it. General Suleimani was one of its architects and had blood all over his hands. None of us should mourn his death.

But what about America? Even the slightest hint it might share some of the responsibility is being met by outraged howls of protest, whether from the rabid voices on right wing “talk” radio or Republican leaders in Congress. In their narrative, this is all on Iran. America has no guilt whatsoever. Really? None? Pardon my astonishment at the utter moral blindness.

Actually, I shouldn’t be surprised. America is led by a man with no moral centre. A man whose sole focus is on himself and what might make him look stronger, brighter, braver. None of which he is or will ever be. How could I expect him to empathize with the victims?

As the days and weeks pass, it is increasingly clear there was no “imminent” attack on U.S. assets that might have justified the assassination of General Soleimani or, at least, given it some veneer of legality. This was done on impulse without any proper consideration of what the short and long term consequences would be and without any broader strategic context to place it in. Just an impulse; one intended to bolster polls; add to the President’s self esteem; silence his critics; make him feel manly.

Donald Trump has Canadian blood on his hands. A lot of it. And nothing will ever wash that stain away. Never forget.

Just sayin.

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Advance polls for the Vancouver civic election open on Saturday, October 1. That will be the start of one of the most important elections in Vancouver’s history, one that will determine whether or not Vancouver will remain one of the most livable cities in the world. And that is by no means a foregone conclusion.

I moved to metro Vancouver as a teenager in 1961. In 1967 I moved into the city itself and have been here ever since, most of it on the downtown peninsula. In the sixty plus years since my arrival, I have seen many changes, most of them good and supporting the idea this city was destined to become not just good, but great.

I can’t place an exact date when my optimism turned to pessimism, although it’s certainly in the last ten years where successive city leaders have failed to address the encroaching madness of the Downtown Eastside (DTES). When I was a teenager the DTES was a relatively safe, but somewhat scruffy, neighbourhood. At some point it transitioned from that to our very own version of Needle Park where thousands of people, many addicted to drugs and alcohol, were warehoused. It was only a matter of time before it metastasized into the surrounding areas and then, inexorably, across the city. First it was Chinatown. Then Gastown. Then Yaletown. Then the West End. Then the other areas of the downtown peninsula before crossing to the Olympic Village, Fairview Slopes, South Granville and Kitsilano. If you live in Vancouver and it hasn’t reached you yet, stay tuned. It will.

Most of us did our best to ignore the spreading squalor, perhaps feeling guilt at our own privileged lives, complete with a roof over our heads and three meals a day. There were a few acts of random violence, but very few and generally confined to the DTES itself. Also, our political leaders in Vancouver, Victoria and Ottawa always seemed to be doing something to address the problem, although few of us knew exactly what that something was, or so we were assured repeatedly. Phrases like “The Four Pillars”, “Safe Injection Sites”, “decriminalization for personal use”, more and more subsidized housing all hovered above the issue. And all the while, governments poured billions of dollars into the DTES.

Someone more clever than me once said the definition of madness was repeating the same action over and over again and expecting a different result. Clearly nothing has worked and we are now confronted with entrenched interests and professional poverty shills who mount outrage whenever anyone has the temerity to suggest fundamental change.

Not a day goes by that there aren’t new reports of random acts of violence committed against law abiding citizens in Vancouver by drug addicted, mentally disturbed, people, almost all of whom are then tracked back to the DTES. In the past six months alone, one person was knifed to death in Yaletown; another (a refugee from Afghanistan) had his throat slit while trying to work for a food delivery service; another hit on the head with a hammer; several knifed, assaulted, knocked down and kicked, resulting in some cases in life threatening or life altering injuries. And this is only the tip of the iceberg as many assaults and property crimes almost certainly go unreported. Just walk down a street in downtown Vancouver and count the number of businesses with broken windows.

I am sure the Vancouver Police Department is doing all it can to arrest these offenders and yet, once arrested, they are often back on the streets within hours, sometimes committing yet another assault. We are told this is the inevitable result of a court system constrained by the Charter of Rights and Freedoms and, specifically, rulings of the Supreme Court of Canada that mitigate against holding accused criminals pending there trials. This is further complicated when the accused offender is a native where the courts are specifically directed to consider that in determining whether or not the individual should be incarcerated.

Thus far the overwhelming focus of politicians at the civic, provincial and federal levels has been on the rights and needs of the offenders. That’s where the push to provide a “safe” supply of drugs has come from, not to mention the safe injection sites and other such interventions. And until very recently, none of them have shown much concern for everyone else.

Mayor Kennedy Stewart and his enablers at City Hall have presided over this growing catastrophe for four years, fiddling while things got worse, until many Vancouverites are now afraid to walk down a street even in their own neighbourhood. Like the madman I cite above, the Mayor and his supporters just keep repeating the same empty slogans and actions, even though it is manifestly clear they have not worked.

So now it is time to change. It is time to acknowledge that the vast majority of Vancouverites who are law abiding have a right to feel safe in their city. That right supersedes the rights, needs and interests of others who have made other choices and now find themselves drug addicted, mentally ill and marginalized.

The first step is to get rid of Mayor Stewart and his team and replace them with people who will put the safety of all Vancouverites first, including putting more police on the streets, and aggressively lobbying the provincial and federal governments to do their part in criminal justice reform and enforcement.

There are several good candidates running against Mayor Stewart, any one of whom would be a vast improvement, but there is only one who, according to the polls, has a real chance of defeating him. That is Ken Sim of the “A Better City” coalition (“ABC”) and that’s why I’m voting for him. Voting for any of the other candidates simply increases the likelihood that Mayor Stewart will slip back into office, leading to four more years of failure to address this issue while our city becomes increasingly unlivable.

As noted above, I have lived in Metro Vancouver for over 60 years and in Vancouver City itself for 55 of those years. I love this city and I’m not going to abandon it. Please help me take it back. Vote for Ken Sim and ABC in the civic election.

Just sayin

G

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Last week eleven people died from stab wounds on the James Smith Cree Nation and in the nearby village of Weldon in Saskatchewan, Canada. One of the eleven was initially identified as one of the killers, along with his brother. The police have not yet released further details so it is unclear whether or not that was the case. The second brother was taken into custody but subsequently died of self inflicted wounds. All but one of the victims were indigenous Canadians, as were the assailant(s?).

This is just the latest, although certainly one of the most horrific, cases of violence committed against and within indigenous communities in Canada, and the search for answers as to how it could have happened has just begun. Fair questions are being asked of the Parole Board that released the presumed killer despite his lengthy criminal record, including violent crimes, with the assertion he “posed no danger to the community”. Similarly, many are questioning why the courts seem to function as a revolving door for repeat offenders in Canada. While this is most acutely raised by this latest mass murder, the same questions arise on a daily basis as individuals arrested for various acts of violence and property crime seem to go free with no obvious consequence for their actions, at least in the short term.

And, with a predictability that is virtually one hundred percent, we hear the claims that the perpetrator(s) were themselves victims of inter-generational violence because of the history of residential schools, and the “sixties scoop”, in Canada. For those not familiar with these issues, Canada, like the United States, established a system of residential schools that, starting in the late nineteenth century and continuing well into the twentieth, removed aboriginal children from their families and forced them to attend residential schools. The so called “sixties scoop” is a side story to the residential schools story where, during the nineteen sixties, children were removed from their homes, where it was deemed their care was lacking, and placed with non native families.

These programs have come under intense scrutiny in the past few years as ground penetrating radar has identified possible burial sites adjacent to the former residential schools. The narrative that has arisen as a result casts Canada in a very negative light with the suggestion that genocide occurred at those sites.

I have difficulty with this line of thought. First, thus far, no bodies have been exhumed and there seems to be little effort to do so. Even if that happens, it shouldn’t be surprising that children died and were buried in those locations at a time when untreated tuberculosis, as well as other terrible diseases like polio, regularly posed a mortal threat to children in Canada.

Second, I object to the use of the term “genocide”, including the Pope’s use of it on his apology visit to Canada a few months ago. Genocide, until recently, was reserved for the most horrific acts of planned and systematic murder of whole populations in the twentieth century, and expanding it to include terms like “cultural genocide” diminishes its force. I don’t dispute that the residential school program had a deeply negative impact on indigenous Canadians, but those effects do not rise to the level of the Nazi genocide in Europe, the Armenian genocide in the Ottoman Empire, the Serbian genocide during the breakup of the Yugoslavia or the Rwandan genocide.

Third, I don’t accept that everyone associated with creating and running the residential schools program and the sixties scoop acted out of malice or with the intention to do harm to the children and their communities. In fact, I’m certain that, at the time, many believed what they were doing would benefit the children and allow for a fuller participation in Canadian society by the native communities. With the benefit of hindsight and changed social values, as well as the stories of abuse, we now know this to be profoundly wrong but that doesn’t mean the people who designed and implemented the residential school system are comparable to Adolph Hitler, Radovan Karadzic or Radko Mladic.

My father was a clergyman in Alberta and, while I have no idea what, if any, views he had on the residential school program, I do know he witnessed terrible scenes of deprivation and poverty in native communities, including families trying to survive an Alberta winter in tents, during his ministry. With that knowledge, it’s not hard to understand how Canadians at the time thought they were doing good with the residential school program.

What is especially troubling is the increasing use of the “victims of inter-generational trauma caused by the residential school system” narrative as a kind of get out of jail free card to account for everything negative in the lives of aboriginal Canadians, including acts of violence by them. In fact, it has reached the point where those words carry less and less meaning, just like the rote recitation of acknowledgements of unceded native land.

An awful fact of human history is that populations have been displaced by other peoples since time immemorial, resulting in genocide, slavery, and all other forms of oppression. In that regard the experience of native North and South Americans isn’t unique. That doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be sympathy and efforts by the dominant population to increase opportunities for members of the indigenous population. But as long as we continue to infantilize indigenous Canadians by placing their victim-hood at the centre of any conversation about them and their role in Canadian society we will never make the kind of progress on reconciliation that is necessary to end the cycles of poverty, violence and alienation that warps so many of their lives.

Just sayin

G

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On July 11 a young man was walking near Smithe and Homer streets in Yaletown when he was stabbed by a woman, suffered serious injuries and died in hospital. He was 29 and his name was Justin Mohrmann. His assailant was arrested on July 18th in the Downtown Eastside. Her name is Lindsay Scott and there is no evidence that she and Justin Mohrmann knew each other. In other words, this was another random attack by a stranger, this time in one of Vancouver’s “better” neighbourhoods.

Although little information has been provided so far, police do indicate they are “familiar” with Scott and, in fact, she is facing another charge for assault from a different attack earlier in the day. The only comment from her family so far is that she has been suffering from some form of “mental illness” for several years.

And so it continues. The endless assaults, property crimes and general degradation of Vancouver by people who, for whatever reason, have chosen a life of drugs and crime.

The next day an elderly woman was assaulted with bear spray in the Downtown Eastside adjacent to the growing homeless encampment along east Hastings. I have no doubt that as I write this other, similar, incidents are occurring, many of them not even reported to the police.

And all the while, our political leaders in Vancouver, Victoria and Ottawa do little if anything to stem this tide of criminality that is rendering our city unlivable. Oh yes, they happily cite the mantra of “Four Pillars”, some at least acknowledging that the so-called pillars of enforcement and treatment are sadly lacking, but their real interest now seems to be ensuring an endless supply of “safe” drugs (as if there was any such thing) to the addicts. Little if any concern is given to the rest of us, the law abiding, tax paying, hard working citizens of this city. When (it now seems a certainty) this so called safe supply is available what will it do to stem the murders, assaults, property crimes and other anti social behaviours by addicts in Vancouver and elsewhere in the province? Little if anything. Yes, there may be less pressure to commit property crimes to support their habit, but I wouldn’t hold my breath expecting any sort of a significant drop in crime. In fact, one certain outcome will be an increase in the number of people coming to B.C. with addiction problems.

For too long this issue has been addressed through the sole lens of what’s good for the addicts instead of the rights and interests of the rest of us. I have lived for over fifty years in the downtown core of Vancouver and, for the first time in all those years, I now feel a need to be constantly aware of who is near me on a street, who might assault me, who might push me down a flight of stairs. This is not right and it has to stop!

If the laws have to be changed, so be it. If more resources have to go into policing, so be it. If the sensibilities of those who are opposed to any kind of real enforcement have to be trampled, so be it. To quote “Wall Street”: “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore”. And I know I’m not alone in this.

Of course I support actions that save peoples’ lives, including ensuring, to the extent it’s possible, that people do not inject fatal doses of drugs into their bodies. But this has to occur within a structure that attends to the interests of everyone else. In other words, providing “safe” drugs to addicts should only occur in the context of a commitment to treatment or, alternatively, incarceration. And the politicians who don’t have the cojones to advocate for and make this happen should step aside or be booted out of office.

Lindsay Scott should not have been on the streets on July 11th. Nor should hundreds of other, similarly addicted/mentally disturbed individuals. Our approach to this issue needs to be turned upside down with the rights of law abiding citizens coming first.

Just sayin

G

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