The Politics of Distraction

Looking at the political situation south of the border has become an exercise in willful masochism lately. The United States have had their first African American President for just over 6 months, providing a symbol of change and tolerance to the rest of the world. Barack Obama is an eloquent speaker; an intelligent politician who represents an entirely different perspective of governance. Ironically, that perspective is calibrated within the precise ideology of every past administration, making Obama's promise of change merely a slogan for the masses. He is not, and never was, an agent of change.

One does not need a manifesto, a strict ideology or a firmly held belief within one wing or the other to identify the distractions born out of Washington politics. Conservatives cling to their base - a flock of bible thumping rednecks who lack the education and the desire to become more informed about issues and cultural progression. Liberals cling to their own pillars, such as government funded programs, incessant finger pointing and a reluctance to examine long term policy ramifications. They do have one thing in common, however - a blind procedure of bickering, distracting the public and forcing each side to set up camp in the already populated communities in which they reside. Simply put, they argue for the sake of arguing, and at the detriment of the entire nation.

Obama has been able to live inside a bubble of media adoration, punctuated by journalism's inability to call truth to power in accordance with their occupational mandate. Despite FOX News' assertion that he is being given a free ride by the "liberal media", this inaction is reminiscent of the run up to the Iraq war, when the media gave George W. Bush a free pass and assisted his quest for a military solution to a problem that did not exist. One can be reminded of legit reasons for Saddam Hussein's removal, but the explanation given to the world was debunked and uncovered as a fraud far too late. Today, Obama's apparent liberal views are accented by ultra-conservative policies, including the continuation of domestic wire taps, rendition policies, an increase in military spending and a prolonged detention policy that trumps any detainment ideas put forth by the Bush administration. Obama is shielded by the now irrelevant media, and the right wing pseudo-controversy machine that takes the focus off his legislation and places it on erroneous topics like birth certificates, Harvard professors and labels of socialism. Meanwhile, the American treasure is being depleted through war spending and stimulus packages, a disastrous economic reality abetted by a system which embraces a private currency mafia known as The Federal Reserve.

Cue the 'conspiracy theorist' label. There's a long standing tradition of dismissing alternative political assertions with the idea that those ideas are absurd, unsubstantiated and nutty. The 'left' are infamous for their government-related conspiracies - everything from the JFK assassination to the 9/11 truth movement. The right, precariously, seem to gravitate towards a self feeding conspiratorial element that nurtures fiction and paranoia. In 2009, we have seen the right wing of America exercise their most bigoted emotions towards Obama, referencing reverse racism whenever they can and questioning the President's citizenship. Meanwhile, the left have been entertaining these artificially made notions through cable news coverage and public reaction, taking the lens off the real issues and onto a bickering gauntlet of narrowly conceived arguments that need not be debated in a public forum. In short, the right and the left are assisting the ongoing policy of economic consolidation represented through the office of the President of the United States. The skin tone may change inside the White House, but the office still holds the exact mandate it always had - the advancement of economic and political interest of the global elite.

There is no tangible End Game to this conundrum of how to balance domestic policy with international ambitions. The office itself is a watershed establishment meant for the continuation of private commerce, all the while disguised as an entity of justice and fairness for the people to which the office owes gratitude. The Democrats and Republicans essentially are playing for the same team - corporate interests, international banking and a consolidation of resources, both natural and economic - and will continue to dominate policy and legislation, much to the chagrin of the American people, if they actually bothered to take a look at the fine print. Currently, these advancements march forward, while a great public speaker, inspiring billions of people, shadows the real initiative from plain sight. The promised aspect of change is actually a betrayal of confidence, but it will take both wings of the electorate to finally learn how to fly once again.

George Stroumboulopoulos...The First

Growing up in Canada, most people got their fill of all-things entertainment from one of two sources - American television or Canadian Radio. It isn't surprising to know that most youngsters, teenagers and young adults chose the former to get their music fix. Canada had always seemed like the amateur version of what American TV had become - a high voltage, overly-sponsored delivery system of music that appealed to audiences who grew tired of hearing Anne Murray and Bryan Adams their whole life.

We had a few household names, however - Chris Shepherd, Erica Ehm, and a few other VJs from MTV wanna-be, Much Music. Heralded as "The Nation's Music Station," Much Music got a cozy deal from the CRTC who accepted an application from CHUM Ltd. stating that the music industry was much too small to sustain more than one music channel. Seriously. It is one of those facts the public knows nothing about - how the massive music industry couldn't possibly sustain more than one music channel, a fact that has finally been rebuked with the arrival of MTV Canada and other digital stations, at a time when the industry is actually shrinking. Go figure.

One individual who emerged from both radio and television is George Stroumboulopoulos, the grungy, highly articulate kid from Malton, Ontario who showed a casual intellect in all things music from his days at Edge 102.1 and afterwards during his stint at MuchMusic. Through a personality that was easy to digest for most Canadian youth, George connected with audiences in a way that no other VJ or radio personality had done before - with a style that wasn't classic Canadian. George was certainly no throwback; he was, and remains, the first of his kind in Canadian media - versatile, modern, likable - traits that have not been seen in Canada by a television personality. And for this blogger, George literally threw his life path to the nether regions of Canada. Namely, Weyburn Saskatchewan.

It happened three years ago, when George advocated for Canadian health care pioneer, Tommy Douglas, during the CBC's Greatest Canadian Contest. When Douglas won, I became more interested in Douglas' history and what he had accomplished for all Canadians. After sifting through countless online sources and reading Life and Political Times of Tommy Douglas, I coincidentally found a job listing for a reporter in Weyburn, the place where Tommy Douglas called home for decades of his long, illustrious life. I weighed the pros and cons of working in small town Saskatchewan, including the lack of hip hop, diversity and shade. Then, like a soul patch wearing sign from the glow of the CBC, I stumbled onto a rerun of The Greatest Canadian, with George once again appealing to my curiosity as to where Douglas called home for so much of his storied life.

I applied for the job, got hired and moved to Weyburn within the week. The snow is very Canadian - deep, cold and relentless - sort of like the media industry, to tell you the truth. I'd like to say I am writing this blog from the editor's desk at the Weyburn Review. Actually, no I wouldn't. The job lasted about 6 weeks, and I was fired because they would not let me travel to Regina after I had secured a media pass to watch Bill Clinton give a speech. The reason - I was to cover the arts and crafts at the Weyburn Daycare Center. No shit.

But, as that scoundrel Cassanova coined so long ago, I have no regrets. I recognized that while my decision to go was an independent one, the catalyst was a personality that I look up to - likely the first personality in media I have made that sentiment towards. Finally, Canada has within its media bowels a person who can deliver original commentary without wearing a grey comb over and powder blue suit. And while I am certain George would point out many strong journalists and commentators that came before him who also had that X factor, I could relate to none of them.

And what makes George a bit more of an anomaly in my own life, our paths have crossed at various, random times while I struggled finding my way in Toronto. There was the time when I was working at a small retail store on Queen Street West, struggling with a large dresser I was trying to carry into the store during closing time, when a dude took the other end and helped me bring it inside. Yep, that was George. Or the time when I accidentally bumped into him rather harshly at my favourite hangover breakfast place, Sneeky Dee's. He just smiled, and in true Canadian fashion, said "I'm sorry'. No worries bro, I was still drunk.

Or the time I mailed him a CD for his opinion, then sent a horrible, chastising email to him when got no response. A few days later he emailed me, apologized for the delay and gave an honest critique about a few of the tracks. Yes, I felt like a prick, so I emailed him back and apologized.

I've read about writers, authors, novelists and musicians running into those people who they strive to be like, or as successful. And while I have met various celebrities in random places, I never showed them an unworthiness or sheepishness, preferring to pretend to not know who they are and just making small talk. You'd be surprised what they give up. I've also interviewed several well known celebs and musicians for a few publications, including some that have sat on the couch on The Hour, but I am still just a cook.

So, thanks George. You make it possible for other Ontario kids to feel like they don't have to be like the established media in order to join them. You are the first of your kind, and I am hoping to follow those footsteps in the deep Canadian snow.

Beatnuts Bomb in T-Dot

OLD SCHOOL THROWBACKS OUTSHINED BY FEMALE AUDIENCE 'DANCERS'

It's always nice to be invited to tag along to a show you know will not be like the regular urban yawnfests in T-dot. Gone are the days of head noddy, lyrically driven shows that Toronto used to be famous for. Back in the day, the Concert Hall was infamous for holding shows that surpassed all others in terms of real hip hop. New York crews had Toronto on their regular touring schedule as the city developed one of the most elite reputations for being a destination that knew what good hip hop was. This high standard soon manifested the label 'Screwface Captial', a moniker born out of audiences who were non reactionary whenever a sub par lyricist came into town.

The Beatnuts, while not being the most lyrical crew in hip hop, maintained a certain credibility due to the stellar beats by JuJu who had crafted gems for the likes of MC Lyte, Pete Nice and Common. Their flow was always nice though - a tight, party type vibe without the filler bullshit and nonsense waste lines.

The show was taking place at Sound Academy. Ever since the smurf village on Toronto Island muscled out The Docks Night Club, the new management have slowly developed a reputation for being overly strict and unimaginative when it came to events. Promoters in Toronto who have been around for a while seemed to have stayed away from Sound Academy, forcing the otherwise ideal venue to find creative ways to make money throwing live events. While the show itself was promoted by the normally reliable REMG Entertainment, the production partner was either not experienced or had one of their worst days in the company's existence. In fact, it was surprising to know that REMG was involved in any capacity, as the crowd was sparse and did not reflect the skills of one of the country's best urban promotions and events firm. Enter push.ca.

I had never heard of this web site but was intrigued to learn the event was more than just a hip hop throwback show. The Push Payout, as it was suspiciously dubbed, also claimed to have a skateboarding contest thrown in the mix, promising to pay cash to the skater with the best trick. A dismal failure in event production, the ramp was positioned to the right of the club, squished beside a wall and featuring jumps that grandma could land. As it turned out, grandma would have won first place as none of the skaters even landed a trick, leaving the host, whoever it was, scrambling to come up with not-so-witty banter on the spot. Nice try, but no.

The opening act was a testament to how nepotism can backfire...badly. Jeremy Chambers, younger sibling of FLOW 93.5 DJ Jayson Chambers, was beyond weak; one of them painful rappers with an overzealous mic man that had the Screwface Captial racing for the smoking patio. See, in Toronto, the underground heads know hip hop, and FLOW isn't hip hop, so why would a rookie with a brother at FLOW seem like a good idea? The answer: the industry in Canada is run by dummies. Watered down, wanna-be businessmen without a clue in the world what the market is looking for. Unfortunately, this lack of understanding leaked its way into the set of the Beatnuts.

My friend and I squirreled our way to the front of the show, leaned up against the railing and waited for the show to begin. Psycho and JuJu came out with good energy, leading off with tracks I don't know the name of but getting the crowd as involved as you can in Toronto. As the set progressed they reverted, smartly, back to their old school classics and the crowd looked like it had been won over.

And then it happened.

I've been to hip hop shows in New York, Miami, Los Angeles and Houston. I can tell you that at almost every show, depending on the artist, random ladies from the audiences almost always end up on stage, droppin' it like its heavy while rappers circle them and spit out their lyrics for the millionth time. It is a facet of hip hop i have tried to learn how to live with. But in Toronto, not only do you lack the scantily clad women normally associated with this silly ritual, but the crowd will stop nodding their heads and begin to focus their attention on just how stupid these people look behind what is supposed to be a semi-reputable hip hop crew. It was more than painful to watch. Drunk girls falling, girls dancing badly (picture the chicken dance, urban style), and two distinct females who obviously thought that this would be their 'big break'. The crowd in the front row began calling for the Beatnuts to eject the 'Toronto Hos' from the stage but ignored these calls - likely feeling the effects of the Hennesey they were drinking on stage.

The Toronto Ho spectacle, and that's exactly what it was, lasted, get this, 45 minutes. That's right - these unskilled, conservatively dressed, drunk, sloppy, starry eyed "dancers" spent the better part of an hour distracting the crowd from what could have been a half decent show, not to mention a saving grace from an otherwise horrid event thrown by www.push.ca.

To top things off, the over excited lone security guard at the front of the stage was exercising Nazi-like tactics to those who sparked up a blunt here and there, demanding they put it out or get ejected. Perhaps someone forgot to tell him that enforcing a no weed policy at a hip hop show is like trying to get a Tiesto crowd to just get high on life. Right.

Next time, leave the ramp at home, turn a blind eye to a hip hop staple requirement and book Mos Def.

Michael Ignatieff - The Electable Liberal

Yesterday was one of those moments where the political landscape changed drastically in Canada. The Liberal Party, long seen as a tired horse in the slowest stampede on the continent - i.e. Canadian politics - turned a page when it announced Michael Ignatieff as their new federal leader. It also quietly reinforced a notion that many had felt since Jean Chretien was halfway through his tenure as PM - the Liberals need not just a qualified leader, but an electable one.

There have been case studies since the 1990s that have proved this hypothesis. Paul Martin inherited the office of the Prime Minister and was eventually discovered to be a man who either was or seemed incredibly nervous in front of the cameras, often dithering his way through town hall meetings and debates. And when the time came to elect a new leader, the party went with Stephane Dion, a principled but watered down version of what Chretien was in his prime. Let's be honest here - your party can't expect to get elected in Canada if your English sounds forced. And while many point to Chretien's often incomprehensible banter when he spoke, the man was as tough as they come. Ask any protester. Dion, on the other hand, seemed nerdy, weak and not very believable when he put on his tough guy face. Add to the brine the permanently marred reputation of Bob Rae, a green horned youngster (Justin Trudeau) and a slew of cast members who fall short of being Prime Minister material and your recipe for a viable contending party seems rather weak.

The Conservatives, on the other hand, have a real leader in Stephen Harper. You can say what you want about the man - he's arrogant, self serving and a control freak - but you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't recognize his gifts in political strategy and exploiting oppositional shortcomings. But, as is often the case in politics, it is our gifts that turn into our weaknesses. It happened to Douglas. It happened to Trudeau. It happened to Mulroney and Chretien. And it is right now happening to Stephen Harper.

When the house of cards coalition failed last year, Harper set the stage for an eventual Conservative defeat by proroguing Parliament. He didn't roll the dice at a time when the Liberals were essentially leaderless. Granted, it could have backfired, but the odds on the Liberal/NDP/BQ somehow working together in the interests of all Canadians seemed more than far-fetched. Harper should have taken the risk and allowed the coalition to fail, but instead chose the path of least resistance and gave the Liberals enough time to regroup.

Enter Michael Ignatieff.

The Etobicoke/Lakeshore MP has only been in Canadian politics for 3 years but has a biography of a leader in waiting. His family tree includes several prominent Canadian and Russian scholars and diplomats, and he has the nostalgic additive of being a youth volunteer for the Trudeau campaign in 1965. Aside from the metaphorical nepotism, his moderate positions are more attractive to the segment of Canadians who normally back the Conservative Party. He can speak eloquently, has a high political acumen and is well rounded enough to identify with most Canadians. His downside is tangible as well, but they tend to fall on the side of Conservative dogma, rather than socialist sticking points. His stance on torture was widely criticized by the Canadian left, but occurrences such as the Omar Khadr affair seem to put his views more cohesive with the Conservatives who would be foolish to take him to task on issues they seem to agree with in principle.

The Conservatives must have relished the moment Stephane Dion was elected the new leader of the federal Liberal Party, but that honeymoon is over. Stephen Harper, the ultimate strategist and scrupulous to the core, will now face his most formidable match to date. And while nothing is scribed in stone, you get the feeling that this time the opposition party is not only ready, but waiting with an electable leader, instead of an ordinary man with a few good ideas.

Whine Flu - The Duck and Cover of 2009

I'm not old enough to have experienced it, but every time I hear stories of the American government telling its citizens how to best remain safe during a nuclear attack I bristle just a little. Of course, it's easy to say that in hindsight - but it seems equally as simple to dismiss the notion that ducking under a table and covering your head might not be a good way to protect yourself from a nuke, even if you are living in the 1950s. Just a thought.

So, when the so-called swine flu hit the airwaves last week, it was easy to imagine millions of people heading to loot the pharmacy for all the Tamiflu they could find. After all, if the telly and the newspapers were right, this was to be a pandemic not seen since 1918 when an estimated 40 million people perished in the Spanish Flu pandemic. Even more startling, after the first few days of coverage where it was discovered that the flu had spread to 7 different countries on 4 different continents, the death toll didn't jive with the hype. Hell, aside from Mexico, where the flu was originally spread by the now-recovered 5 year old Edgar Hernandez (dubbed Patient Zero by the media and science fiction nerds alike), there has been but one death related to the flu in the United States - a 23 month old Mexican toddler who died while in Texas. Any death is tragic, especially when it is someone so young, but to even utter the word 'pandemic' when scientists are still learning how the virus mutates and what the long term effects might be is careless and dangerous.

But it sells newspapers and advertisements, captivates television audiences and fires up the conspiracy theorists on the Net. Oh yeah, haven't you heard? The Swine Flu was engineered by the New World Order who are trying to get the public to take an eventual vaccine laced with nano robots that will track our every move and eventually enslave us through mind control. Right. OK, then. Got it.

Back to Tamiflu - the best known flu treatment and prevention medication on the planet. Canada has 55 million doses of the stuff, mostly purchased from the drug's parent company Roche Pharmaceuticals after the SARS scare in March of 2003. Interesting though, and I fully admit I am a mild conspiracy theorist - most members of the former Bush administration and many members of the current Obama administration are Tamiflu stockholders. Not bad fodder, eh? Well, the kicker is that, according to the World Health Organization, this particular strain of flu virus is Tamiflu resistant. That's right folks. There is a pandemic, Tamiflu is our best hope, and it doesn't work.

To recap, nobody knows how powerful this flu virus really is (an estimated 36 000 Americans each year die from the traditional flu, by the way), the media are calling it a pandemic to boost ad sales and stock prices of a drug that won't work, Patient Zero has fully recovered, any potential vaccine might lead to a world of obedient slaves and, to add to the folly, Jewish religious zealots are now asking the WHO to rename it 'Mexican Flu' because apparently calling it Swine Flu is offensive to their religion. Really. No shit. I suppose Mexicans will be tickle pink to have a potential pandemic named after their actual culture, but at least the god fearing nut cases feel better.

I don't know whether this will turn into a pandemic or not, and if I did give an opinion you'd be an idiot for listening to me. I am a writer, not a doctor. But I can tell you this. When SARS struck Toronto I was living in the heart of the city. My daily routine did not change. Every morning I would walk and get my morning coffee and daily newspaper, talk to neighbours who were walking their dogs and return home. Then I would turn on CNN and watch the talking heads describe Toronto as the diseased version of Chernobyl.

It's OK. Go outside...you'll be fine...maybe.

Freelance Funk

Ever since I returned from my stint in Los Angeles and Miami, I've noticed the Canadian media have made serious cutbacks on the amount of freelance material they publish. The Toronto Star, Globe and Mail and National Post used to entertain freelancers - paying them the same rate that has been paid for the last 30 years. Seriously. While most industries experienced a pay raise over the the last three decades, freelancers get paid the same drop in the bucket they always have...even though the cost of living has quadrupled. Nevertheless, it was nice to know that, as a freelancer, if I had a story worth telling I had options to get it out there.

Those days are gone.

Ironically, I tend to lay blame on the blogosphere. Where else can one find a topic being saturated so mercilessly that it takes a team of advisers just to figure out where the most reliable information comes from? Tragically, this gives more exposure and more advertising dollars to the big, reputable companies - the same companies who have decided that they can no longer afford to hire freelance writers. Telling, isn't it?

The cut-throat atmosphere of the media gets worse. I had three exclusive interviews - Paris Hilton, Matisyahu and Flo Rida - all from the Winter Music Conference. After unsuccessfully pitching these stories to major Canadian outlets, some editors had the nerve to ask me to pen the story and donate it so they could put their own name on the byline and, well, not give me even exposure. I don't want exposure really, I want to get paid - especially after accessing celebrities and securing the interviews.

So, after mulling about for a few weeks and feeling sorry for myself, I have decided to join the saturated blogging world. I don't know if I will ever get paid, but at least I know that the stories I write are original and not copied and pasted from some other disgruntled writer trying to cope with a disintegrating media. Wish me luck.

Obama Day

There are several reasons why today is one of the most historical moments in history. Barack Obama will be sworn in as the 44th President of the United States.

After watching an interview with KRS-1 regarding this event, I am now incapable of calling Obama the first black president, rather, he is the first African-American President.

"Calling him the first black President is disrespectful to Obama's mother," he said. Good point.

But no matter what label one chooses, there are other facets to this event that needs to be examined. I think it's dangerous that people are putting so much hope in the hands of a man inheriting two wars, a feeble economy, a divided nation and an unstable world. Conflicts in the middle east, Georgia/Russia, India/Pakistan and elsewhere means Obama will have more on his plate than any other President in recent history.

And here we are being mesmerised by the spectacle. It's as if Obama has super-human powers, able to leap corporations in a single bound, walk on water, eat bullets and shit ice-cream. He can't. He's human - a great speaking human who has yet to prove anything, other than the fact that he has charisma.

People need to stay grounded. People need to scrutinize Obama...call truth to power. Remember, he is the new face of the same machine...the same system. He was most definitely a better choice for the top job than McCain and his sidekick, Sarah 'Fargo' Palin, but let's not pretend that everything is going to be OK now that he is in charge.

It's embarrassing and cringe-worthy watching people fawn over him. It makes us look like sheep. I sincerely hope he is the best President of all-time, but I will not become brainwashed and give away healthy skepticism because I am caught up in the moment.

Neither should anyone else. Good luck Obama.

Habits of our Fathers

Many of my closest friends are taken aback at the type of relationship I have had with my family, both immediate and extended. We aren't close. Truthfully, I am as much to blame as anyone for this lack of interaction, and lately it all seems so very cliche - a Cats in the Cradle of sorts - punctuated when I heard that my father suffered a heart attack a couple nights ago.

My father comes from a family where communication was an afterthought. Phone calls on birthdays and Christmas was about all the family could accomplish to shorten the distance that separated us. And still, those conversations were bland and rather quick. As a child I would feel a strong anticipation whenever it was a relative's birthday. It was really the only time I had to talk with a favourite uncle or my grandfather.

I soon learned that this sparse method of communication was going to be passed down to my two sisters and I. And this cold hard lesson was realized just the other day.

My father suffered a heart attack on Sunday, January 12th, 2009. While I have only seen him three times in the last decade, I was immediately brought back to this moment from my childhood when his father passed away. It was my 11th birthday. I was preparing for the arrival of my friends and eating breakfast my father had made for me. The phone rings. I watch my mother put her hand in front of her mouth, hang up the phone and walk outside where my father is sitting on the edge of the pool. She bends down, puts her arm around his shoulders and whispers in his ear. Instinctively I walk outside to see what is happening. My father's shoulders begin to bounce a little, and a tear climbs down his cheek and into his beard. This was the only time I had ever seen him cry.

When I was given the news about his heart attack I walked into an empty room and felt an overwhelming sadness. I began to weep quietly. Then, as if thrown back into my father's body from years ago, I noticed my reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall. My shoulders bounced, and a tear made its way from my eye to my cheek, and eventually the floor.

I guess we are a product of where we come from. My father is recovering, but perhaps I can use this experience to help break the chain of non-communication, forging ahead with a new desire to be the kind of son I should have tried harder to be all of these years.

He had a slew of tests done today and does not want any visitors. Tomorrow I will decide whether or not to begin yanking on the chain that has tied us together from miles apart. Wish me luck.