Valentine's Day

Despite all the elation of Canada winning two medals yesterday and the gold that breaks the Canadian home-soil curse, I ended up spending a lot of hours just wandering around the Olympic sites and the seawall in reflection, not really motivated to join in on the party.

It was difficult to see all the guys around the city heading home with bouquets of flowers knowing that I was the odd guy out...alone at Valentine's day, not by choice. I would sort of look like an outlier datapoint in a Venn Diagram...not in the 'couple' circle, but not in the 'single' one either; somewhere in a bubble not really connected to either of the two main groups. Sunday, Feb. 14 was the official one-month date since Murad died. Things are still very hard. I am distressed at how up-and-down I feel from day to day. There is no consistency in how I feel from hour to hour. I had a wonderful night out with our friends on Saturday night, but on Sunday I was moody and distant again. It's very weird. It's very easy for me to get myself out of social situations these days, which is very atypical.

I tried to get into the excitement and spirit of the Olympic events yesterday. Once they started tooting all the patriotic 'I Believe' stuff after Bilodeau's win, I became upset even more since I knew how excited Murad was about the Olympics and how passionate he was about cheering for Canada. He had the full ensemble of Vancouver 2010 gear from the Olympic Superstore (only made crazier by his HBC discount!) and we were planning on attending lots of events together. Every time I see someone wearing his 2010 hat or the red 2010 t-shirt, it makes me think of him. We were going to be 'blue and green' wherever we went over the next couple of weeks. I wanted so much to go to some Olympic events with him and even though I have had the opportunity now to go to a few ticketed events, it just doesn't seem the same to go without him and I have, so far, turned down any offers to buy tickets to anything. It was the same as the Palm Springs trip...I was physically there, but not mentally. Nothing seems to feel as good as it should because Murad isn't there and I know how much more special each situation would be if he was. I keep imagining how much more happy I would be sharing all these experiences with him; a situation, or an event that is going on, and that with him not being there, the situation is muted, less colorful, less joyous. I guess this is all very normal, but it sure isn't very fun and it's not very consistent which makes it even more frustrating.

Seeing all the couples yesterday walking the Seawall holding hands, arm in arm, in the restaurant windows....to express any emotional currency to anyone these days does not interest me...my self-confidence has been shattered as has my propensity to express anything emotional through that lack of confidence. Out of obligation I feel that I have to divest in certain situations, but I so don't really care that much right now to actually put a lot of effort into it. It really sucks as I love my friends and I love meeting new people, normally...

I stopped at Sunset Beach very close to Murad's apartment and sat on the logs on the beach for a while in the dark. I was within view of the beautifully-lit trees at the corner of Beach and Bidwell, which was one of our favorite spots, and under the floodlights of Vectorial Elevation. The water in English Bay was very calm. It was a nice spot to sit and think about the past two months and how they have changed my life forever.

Eventually things will brighten. I mean, they have to, right? I know that right now I'm dwelling on things that were and might have been and not thinking about how things are. The shock is gone but the disbelief isn't. In time I will accept this new reality. In time I will get my bearings back and start getting comfortable approaching life as 'just me' again. I keep thinking that this has to happen soon for my own sanity, but it isn't happening quickly, and I have to accept that it takes some time to process all this through my tiny brain. I will be able to move on once I fully appreciate that Murad is no longer a part of my physical and emotional life.

When I start to honestly think about this, it really feels like I'm starting all over again. I don't like this very much. It's like I might have just as well moved to Vancouver right now as opposed to almost ten months ago since I feels like I've undergone a reboot of my entire system over the past month.

I will go to Murad's gravesite after work again today to spend a few minutes with my Valentine.

I hope that everyone that had someone to celebrate Valentine's Day or the wins for Canada with did so to the fullest extent of love, passion, and emotion they could share with that person or group of people. It can all change so quickly; suddenly all that you take for granted and enjoy so much is gone and you're left standing dumbfounded amongst a bunch of shattered pieces of your life. I guess in the whole scheme of things everything is terminal but while things are going good, we should all enjoy them as much as we possibly can, not just on Valentine's Day but every day.

We Are More

“We Are More” by Shane Koyczan

When defining Canada
you might list some statistics
you might mention our tallest building
or biggest lake
you might shake a tree in the fall
and call a red leaf Canada
you might rattle off some celebrities
might mention Buffy Sainte-Marie
might even mention the fact that we’ve got a few
Barenaked Ladies
or that we made these crazy things
like zippers
electric cars
and washing machines
when defining Canada
it seems the world’s anthem has been
” been there done that”
and maybe that’s where we used to be at
it’s true
we’ve done and we’ve been
we’ve seen
all the great themes get swallowed up by the machine
and turned into theme parks
but when defining Canada
don’t forget to mention that we have set sparks

we are not just fishing stories
about the one that got away
we do more than sit around and say “eh?”
and yes

we are the home of the Rocket and the Great One
who inspired little number nines
and little number ninety-nines
but we’re more than just hockey and fishing lines
off of the rocky coast of the Maritimes
and some say what defines us
is something as simple as please and thank you
and as for you’re welcome
well we say that too
but we are more
than genteel or civilized
we are an idea in the process
of being realized
we are young
we are cultures strung together
then woven into a tapestry
and the design
is what makes us more
than the sum total of our history
we are an experiment going right for a change
with influences that range from a to zed
and yes we say zed instead of zee
we are the colours of Chinatown and the coffee of Little Italy
we dream so big that there are those
who would call our ambition an industry
because we are more than sticky maple syrup and clean snow
we do more than grow wheat and brew beer
we are vineyards of good year after good year
we reforest what we clear
because we believe in generations beyond our own
knowing now that so many of us
have grown past what used to be
we can stand here today

filled with all the hope people have
when they say things like “someday”

someday we’ll be great
someday we’ll be this
or that
someday we’ll be at a point
when someday was yesterday
and all of our aspirations will pay the way
for those who on that day
look towards tomorrow
and still they say someday

we will reach the goals we set
and we will get interest on our inspiration
because we are more than a nation of whale watchers and lumberjacks
more than backpacks and hiking trails
we are hammers and nails building bridges
towards those who are willing to walk across
we are the lost-and-found for all those who might find themselves at a loss
we are not the see-through gloss or glamour
of those who clamour for the failings of others
we are fathers brothers sisters and mothers
uncles and nephews aunts and nieces
we are cousins
we are found missing puzzle pieces
we are families with room at the table for newcomers
we are more than summers and winters
more than on and off seasons
we are the reasons people have for wanting to stay
because we are more than what we say or do
we live to get past what we go through

and learn who we are
we are students
students who study the studiousness of studying
so we know what as well as why
we don’t have all the answers
but we try
and the effort is what makes us more
we don’t all know what it is in life we’re looking for
so keep exploring
go far and wide
or go inside but go deep
go deep
as if James Cameron was filming a sequel to The Abyss
and suddenly there was this location scout
trying to figure some way out
to get inside you
because you’ve been through hell and high water
and you went deep
keep exploring
because we are more
than a laundry list of things to do and places to see
we are more than hills to ski
or countryside ponds to skate
we are the abandoned hesitation of all those who can’t wait
we are first-rate greasy-spoon diners and healthy-living cafes
a country that is all the ways you choose to live
a land that can give you variety
because we are choices
we are millions upon millions of voices shouting
” keep exploring… we are more”
we are the surprise the world has in store for you
it’s true

Canada is the “what” in “what’s new?”
so don’t say “been there done that”
unless you’ve sat on the sidewalk
while chalk artists draw still lifes
on the concrete of a kid in the street
beatboxing to Neil Young for fun
don’t say you’ve been there done that
unless you’ve been here doing it
let this country be your first-aid kit
for all the times you get sick of the same old same old
let us be the story told to your friends
and when that story ends
leave chapters for the next time you’ll come back
next time pack for all the things
you didn’t pack for the first time
but don’t let your luggage define your travels
each life unravels differently
and experiences are what make up
the colours of our tapestry
we are the true north
strong and free
and what’s more
is that we didn’t just say it
we made it be.

—–

Warm Sands

This morning was difficult. I got to YVR at around 6:45 late late late and Westjet had already closed the gate for my flight to Palm Springs. The check-in staff managed to get me through but I don't think they expected me to make the flight since I had to get through security and U.S. Customs and the flight was to begin boarding at 7:10. Another testament to not bringing any carry-on crap...I was at the gate at around 7:20. The flight was in the air at 7:50. YVR is getting streamlined for some reason; good for them! :)

I got choked up a few times on the flight. The original reason for a large part of this trip was planned as a recuperation trip for Murad once he got out of the hospital. We had planned to hang out by the pool, check out the Palm Springs gondola and the shopping centers in Palm Springs and Palm Desert and some of the other sites such as Andreas Canyon and the Wind turbine tours. I had a picture we took of us in our seats on our flight to Chicago in November that brought me to tears again. It just seems to surreal to be doing this trip without him. Now it's just a trip alone for me to try and catch a grip on my life again and lick my wounds. I can't put into words how much I miss him.

I've been reading a book called "Life After Loss" that my friend Neall gave me and quite often passages in it will choke me up. Today I came upon part of the grief healing exercises where it suggests writing letters to your lost one at particular intervals over the first year of grieving and to read the letters regularly until you can do it without breaking down. I think this is a great idea and will be an exercise I will begin attempting tomorrow. I know most of what I want to say to him, but I want to be sure that I don't miss anything...I'm looking at this as being a one-time deal, as if he's only going to be able to hear me read it to him only once, therefore it needs to be as complete as possible. I am planning more thoughtful (and not so sleep-deprived) hours at the pool tomorrow so this will be a good thing to do.

Tomorrow I am also planning on going to the El Paseo shopping district. Tomorrow afternoon is the El Paseo Art Walk, I think it might be interesting to check out.

Friday will be a complete pool deck day before the Los Angeles crew shows up for the weekend in the evening.

...

I have something that's bothering me. I went to Murad's gravesite last Friday evening before coming downtown after work. The week after the funeral I had put two beautiful roses on his grave along with a picture of him with some writing on the back. On Friday, one of the roses was gone. It didn't blow away; there are other flowers there. I'm not sure what to make of this and I'm trying to not let it bother me but it does cross my mind again from time to time. There was no indication with what I left there who might have written the notes and put the picture and roses there, so I'm not sure why someone would take one of the roses? First I thought that someone else in the cemetery needed a flower, thus took one from Murad's grave since there were two there, but that sounds kinda stupid. Then I thought maybe someone thought having two there was 'inappropriate', thus removed one. Maybe it was offensive to have two there? I'm not sure. I don't really understand this, but it kinda bugs me. I think it's sort of insensitive, like someone is judging someone else's grieving process. Sorry, I just needed to rant about it.

Okay, I'm off to bed. Good night.

Ongoing

Today I'm throwing out the last of the bereavement floral arrangements...an action that's yanking me back into tears again. I'm making one last combo arrangement out of all the hardy survivors that still look lively that will probably last another week or so. One happy thing though is that I've saved and dried every rose Murad gave me. I now have a full container of pre-pot pourri fodder that will give me another subtle reminder of what I loved and lost everytime I walk into my house.

The perception of perspectives

It's weird how a few days can change everything in your life. Sunday January 10th was one of the best days in recent memory. Wednesday January 13th was the worst day of my life.

On that Sunday, Murad was feeling down both physically and emotionally, so I gladly spent a relaxing day snoozing and cuddling with him in his hospital bed, giving him a massage, watching movies and talking. It was a wonderful day that made us both happy. He had lost his appetite again so fed me his hospital food when it came into the room.

His condition didn't change much on Monday, but on Tuesday Murad turned yellow as his liver started to shut down and the medical staff suddenly became a lot more alarmed about his condition. He began to get disoriented (originally attributed to his dosages of Delotid painkillers and the effects of his non-functioning liver). I spent the night with him in his room on Tuesday night, but was so distraught by his pain and wandering around the room plus the stress of still trying to make appearances at work, I had to leave the hospital in tears around 4am in order to get a few hours of sleep. I was back at his side at 8am, alarmed that things had taken such a sudden turn for the worse. It was at this time we discovered he was no longer producing urine, and his kidneys we no longer functioning. I decided not to go into work until his catheter was replaced (they were trying to eliminate the possibility that something had become blocked) and his bone marrow biopsy was done. His sister Anissa was back from Miami so she sat with him during the afternoon while I went into work around 2pm for a few hours in the afternoon. I was back at the hospital by 5.

From 5pm to midnight on Wednesday, I could only watch as my lover fell apart before my eyes, powerless and angry that I could do nothing for him but hug him, hold his hands, caress his head and try to comfort him. At the time I couldn't conceive that this would be our last day together. In the evening he was in so much distress, all I could do was support him while he tried to stand up and sit down to relieve his pain. We had several long long hugs. I was very upset that he had broken into a cold sweat and was becoming more visibly distressed by the hour while trying to swat off the lab rats who were showing up in the hospital room what seemed every 15 minutes for more blood samples from a body that had no more blood to give. I didn't realize it at the time but I think he knew he didn't have much time and was hugging me goodbye. Just before he was wheeled down to ICU we gave each other one last long look. It was going to be the last time I ever saw him as living Murad, the person I loved. He was no longer able to communicate verbally but we could tell what the other was thinking by what the eyes were saying. He was very scared, so was I.

I am still trying to figure out what Murad was thinking at that moment - was he scared because he knew he was going to die? Was he scared because the future was uncertain? Was he distressed, mentally impaired, or overly disoriented by that time? As someone pointed out to me later, maybe he was scared because he realized he was going to lose me and everything else that had meaning to him in this world? Maybe all of these crossed his mind at the same time which would seem a reasonable assumption. The speculation will haunt me forever without any answers, obviously, but I will never ever forget that final look in his eyes as he looked at me for the last time. It was terrifying.

The doctors came out of ICU around 2am and told us that Murad had basically quit breathing on his own. There was a strong possibility of brain and heart damage. When we got into ICU to see him at 2:30am, he was completely hooked up to machines and unconscious. His open eyes had broken blood vessels in them, and there was one tear rolling down his face...something I remember vividly. The machines were breathing for him, his body would shudder with each inhalation/exhalation cycle of the respirator. I went into complete shock after realization of the gravity of the situation hit me.

Thursday, the day he died, was physically more upsetting than mentally. I was so distraught and sleep-deprived by Thursday morning that when the call came from the SPH social worker at 8:30am stating that Murad had only hours or minutes to live, I already knew he wasn't going to survive the day. Reality hit me as I collapsed into a pile or tears on my apartment couch while trying to get ready to head to the hospital for one last day. I made the difficult call to Doug and Ian to meet me at ICU as soon as they could. I had wanted to spend the night in the ICU waiting room but the family convinced me to go home since there was nothing more I could do for him. We still dropped his belongings at his apartment on the way home at 3am; I was still convinced that I would be going back there to pick them up for him soon once he was out of ICU again. I was still prepared to be by his side no matter what shape he was in once he got out of this situation. How quickly the perspective changed.

He wasn't under the influence of any drugs at this time but was unconscious. His eyes were closed. We took turns talking to him. I rubbed and scratched his head over and over again. He was so cold. His sister Tasnim sang to him after she arrived in the morning, and his falling heartrate sped up for a period of time after she would sing to him. Bastions of family members shuffled by his bedside paying their last respects to him. I'm not sure how much of all of this he was able to sense. Many still prayed for a miracle. I was willing to try anything to save Murad, so I prayed along with his family.

Murad died at 3:35pm while the family and I were in conference with the ICU medical staff. His blood pressure had fallen so low there was no way his body was going to be able to maintain itself. He was so full of toxins from his faltering kidneys and liver the dialysis machine he was hooked up to couldn't keep up. His father and sister had only arrived at the hospital less than an hour before. Doug and Ian were at his bedside when his heart stopped. They told him that none of us wanted to see him go, but if he was ready that would be okay.

I've been sort of in a fog ever since. It's been two weeks since he died and a week ago yesterday was the funeral. I've been out to the cemetery three times in the past week (it's only a 15 minute walk from my office), and helping to clean out his apartment four of the last seven nights. It was difficult to move all of his stuff out and do the final checkout on his apartment....last night was the last time I'll ever be at his place. But I am glad that his friends got to claim the best of his clothing and belongings....his fabulousness will transcend his physical self when others are spotted wearing his bold styles and marvellous footwear! I'm also glad that almost all of his furniture will be used by a new immigrant family from Kenya to set themselves up in Vancouver. I managed to hold onto some of his boldest outfits -- the ones that personify Murad most elegantly, IMO, in addition to a few of his favorite pieces of art. Unfortunately we never got to find a good home for his bed and futon, we simply ran out of time. Hmm, running out of time...

I've noticed over the past few days I haven't cried as much as a week ago and I'm starting to feel a bit more level. I still feel such a huge chunk missing from my whole and I haven't quite figured out how to even go about starting to mend it, and I also haven't had much energy or incentive to do much else than drag my ass into work this week and spend the evenings at home on the couch, just thinking and looking at pictures. I've felt the need to talk to others but not the initiative to pick up the phone. Why would I burden people with no vested interest with such upsetting conversation? Why would anyone want to listen? Why would I want to repeat myself over and over again? Typical thought from last week...."I can't call anyone right now, it's 1am and I'm collapsed on the couch but everyone's asleep."

Why won't someone call? Guh. What's the point? I've barely replied back to anyone. There were so many that called and wrote; I just couldn't muster the energy to respond. A week or so ago, all the people that tried to contact me was overwhelming and I couldn't cope with it. Now, no one's trying to contact me and I feel completely alone. This death thing is very strange and complicated, indeed.

...

He had been sick basically since the beginning of December and I know at the time I was angry, frustrated and upset that the holidays, my birthday, and New Years were going to be ruined because Murad was in the hospital.

Despite all of his pain and stress, he hosted an amazing birthday party for me on December 18th, the same evening the blood vessels in his skin irritated and rashed and only three days before he was admitted into the hospital for the last time.

In my imminent selfishness I was angry that he was going to be in the hospital for the holidays -- all those great plans quashed for this year. Of course, I put on my best face and spent as much time at the hospital as I could. I know this situation completely and utterly sucked for him and in addition to being physically sick, he was also mentally stressed and I wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He kept apologizing again and again and again to me for what he was putting me through....I can't even imagine how he felt, despite my reassurances that nothing mattered more than him recovering and getting the hell out of the hospital.

Being with him was all that mattered despite the impact it might have on me. There were moments when I felt I couldn't cope with the burden of caring for him in the hospital as his entire family was in Florida for the holidays. At one point I asked him to have someone cut their holiday short and come back to help with what was going on. I went back the next day and apologized for being so selfish. He and I could do this together. If only I knew then what I know now.

On New Year's eve, despondent that I was going to be spending my birthday and the New Year's celebration with Murad at the hospital, I came into the ward in the evening after work to discover two dozen red roses there that Murad had arranged to have delivered to the hospital for me. His niece had arranged the drop off but had forgotten to bring a card to attach to the vase. Murad, in his typical creative form, fashioned something to write on by using a strip of medical tape to attach to the vase. On it, he wrote, "Bubu you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Happy birthday. Love your Mumu".

Despite this being a horrible couple of months, my perspective of the hospital time has changed a lot after everything has unfolded the way it did. Instead of looking at at those three weeks in the hospital as a regrettable experience, I am now looking at it as a very special moment in time, a unique opportunity to spend uninterrupted time with this remarkable man that I fell in love with. It was during the holidays; nothing was open, there was no one around, there were no distractions. There were several days between Christmas Eve and New Years when Murad was very unwell and in ICU (25th-28th) that I spent 16 or 17 hours at the hospital with him each day. I will remember those days forever.

Through some of the stuff I'm reading (god knows my friends that have lost lovers or spouses have been an essential source of help for me to date), I've realized that grieving is the last act of love we have to give those who have died. It seems so final and dramatic, and certainly all that has happened is, I guess, both. I've been very sad the past couple of weeks, but I know that I will/must grieve positively because it is the best and only acceptable way for me to honor an amazing man who gave me so much in so short a time.

When going through a his stuff at his apartment with his sister and niece a week ago, I looked through a bunch of his old photos from the 90s and earlier part of this decade and fascinated at his life. I said to his sister Nafisa, "I'm so jealous that you got to witness Murad's life...I only knew of his last year and I wish that I knew the whole man. We met so late. I only wish I had had more time."
She replied by saying, "You know what Reid? We're jealous of you. You got share his life with him for a short time, spending the past six months with him and the last three weeks in the hospital with him. You got to share his final days, something that the rest of us wish we had but only you had."

Nafisa's response gave me a moment of clarity. We can wish and hope all we want, but all that really matters is the now. Things can change in an instant and if you don't say and do the things you want to say and do today, you may not get the opportunity tomorrow. Funny how perspectives can change so quickly, eh?

I'm trying not to shut myself off from the world that continues outside unabated but it's hard. For the first time in my life, I opened myself up completely to someone. For different reasons, I believe we were both at a point in our lives where we were open to any experiences and possibilities, and were prepared to make ourselves vulnerable in order to find love. It is something that I'd never done to such a degree before and it was quite the experience. Who knew you had to make your self susceptible in order to let someone in? What a concept! I am devastated by the fact that I exposed myself so fully to someone in such a short time, completely assured that we would have all the time in the world to grow on our knowledge of ourselves and the lessons we would learn...and then he disappeared forever. Now that's all gone. I still can't believe it. It doesn't seem real. It certainly doesn't feel the least bit fair.

Regardless, I am trying to approach this in a more constructive way. Even though I only had six months with Murad, the lessons he taught me about love, life and the strength and fragility of both are things that I will have with me for the rest of my life. I am working to integrate these into my being...the worst thing I could do is to ignore or forget these things and live life as if I never learned a these important lessons from this wonderful man.

I still believe it was fate that I met Murad - we had things to teach each other, and we had an intense love to share with each other. We were both open up to the possibilities at the right time. It was a marvellous six months that I will treasure forever. I will eventually get over the fact that it's gone now and respect the experience for what it was...

Celebration of Murad

My heart is broken that our time together was cut short but I thank the higher power that the Friday night in July when I met Murad we were in the right place at the same time. He gave me so much passion and love in only six months. The intensity of our relationship was overwhelming at times but always left me wanting more. I believed we had lots of time to channel our energy into something incredible and I hesitated at times at the start to jump in completely. I think Murad knew his time here was limited therefore tried to live and love as much as he could as often as he could.

I know I was profoundly loved and he knows he was too. Not just from me, but from everyone he touched.

Every 'heated debate' was always ended with Murad saying, "this is a package deal, take it or leave it". I was amazed how unapologetic he was for who he was and what he was passionate about. It is one of the things I loved about him the most.

Murad was a bright light in a dark room - you had to squint to look at him directly, he was that shiny - and he illuminated everything and everyone around him in a wonderful glow.

I believe I had the fortune to connect with a soulmate. I was even luckier that he was one of the oldest souls one could ever meet.

Out of interest, I googled the key signs of an old soul. How many of these described Murad? I think pretty much all of them.
*giving and caring, often putting others first.
*having a difficult romantic life often with much pain and disappointment.
*more than likely to have a soulmate relationship.
*things just seeming to happen to him and around him, often becoming very dramatic through the seemingly extreme reactions of others.
*events repeating themselves.
*having trouble connecting with family.
*somehow knowing he's different.
*having some psychic intuition and just 'knowing things'.
*finding that he has deeper emotions and passions than most people.
*people having extreme reactions to him - some just adoring him and some seeming to dislike him yet he behaves the same to everyone.
*having an inner creative passion.
*suffering lots of jealousy.
*often being perceived wrongly.
*feeling he doesn't have much free will, like life is being controlled by some outside force.
*often feeling 'stuck' like events keep on happening time after time.

The journey of all of our souls through their many lives is one of growth and learning, from a young soul focused on material things, power, ego and the 'now', to the old soul's higher levels of compassion, truth, destiny, caring, and fairness. Murad's soul was certainly an experienced one.

The main reason soulmates have to part is so that the less developed one catches up with spiritual awakening, connection to his real soul age, and to reconnect with their soulmate to continue the journey at the same level sometime in the future.

Murad taught me so much; how to be vulnerable, how to be resilient, how to be loved, how happiness can be achieved by making those around you happy as well, how to accept that many things are out of our control. He was the oldest of souls. I was so fortunate to have met my soulmatein this existence albeit briefly, have a crazy exchange of new experiences, knowledge and lessons in preparation for the next time we meet. I've never felt so loved in my life and I've never loved anyone so much before. It was destiny that we met and had this incredible journey together. I know he's out there somewhere making other souls look beautiful, surrounding himself with joy and colour.

May the higher power bless you MuMu. I will never forget you, the lessons you taught me, the experiences and emotions you opened me up to, and I look forward to the next time we see each other.

Murad-ali Hassam Oct. 2 1966 - Jan. 14 2010

My MuMu didn't make it out of ICU and passed on Thursday afternoon. As most of you know he was in the hospital since December 22nd but had been appearing to improve until a sudden downturn in his condition at the end of the past weekend increased in severity and graveness.

It's still a shock and frustrating that our storybook together which just got started will now not get written but I feel so blessed to have met such a remarkable man who impacted my life in so many ways for such a brief intense period. I take solace in knowing he's not in pain anymore and reunited with his mom which he wanted more than anything.

I'm so blessed to have such a wonderful network of family and friends. You truly know what matters in life during times like this.

I will probably be offline for awhile. Thank you everyone for your support.

Take the Train

Naked airport scanners to be installed in 11 airports within two months
By Jim Bronskill, The Canadian Press

OTTAWA - The government plans to install dozens of scanners that can see through the clothes of travellers in airports across the country.

Transport Minister John Baird will announce plans today to install the machines in 11 airports within two months.

An insider has told The Canadian Press that a total of about 45 scanners, which cost $200,000 apiece, will eventually be in place around Canada.

Initially the machines will turn up in cities including Toronto, Montreal, Ottawa and Vancouver, the source said on condition of anonymity.

The move follows an apparent attempt by a Nigerian man to blow up a jetliner over Michigan by igniting explosives sewn into his underwear.

The system, tested in British Columbia at the Kelowna airport, can enable a screening officer to see whether someone is carrying explosives or other dangerous items.

Last week officials said there were no plans to speed up consideration of the long-discussed scanners in light of the near-disaster.

But the government, under pressure to respond to the dramatic U.S. incident, has decided to make the multimillion-dollar purchase.

The proposal has stirred controversy because the scanner produces a three-dimensional outline of a person's naked body - prompting some to denounce the process as a virtual strip search.

The system received the blessing of the federal privacy czar in October.

Under the plan approved by the privacy chief, the officer would view the image in a separate room and never see the actual traveller.

Only people singled out for extra screening would be scanned, and they would have the option of getting a physical pat-down instead.

Chantal Bernier, the assistant federal privacy commissioner, told a conference the holographic image generated by the scanner makes it difficult to identify the traveller's face.

"You would not know who it is, even if you knew the person was in line," she said at the annual meeting of the Canadian Association for Security and Intelligence Studies.

In addition, the image would be deleted the moment the person leaves the screening portal.

"In our view, these privacy safeguards meet the test for the proper reconciliation of public safety and privacy," Bernier said.

The scanners are already in use at airports in cities including Amsterdam, Moscow and Phoenix. They are also found in the high-security "green zone" of Baghdad and at some U.S. courthouses and prisons.

Bernier added that the Canadian Air Transport Security Authority had done thorough threat assessments that revealed a need to search passengers for weapons that might elude a conventional metal detector.

The privacy commissioner's office recommends a public education campaign to explain the machines, and says minors would be scanned only with the consent of guardians accompanying them.

The air security authority says the low-level radio frequency wave emitted by the body scanner meets Canadian health-and-safety standards.

I'm not so concerned about the privacy issues as the cost. So this will tag an additional $10 million or so onto the Airport Fees, in addition to whatever fuel surcharges we will endure in 2010. So, when is even marginally acceptable train service going to provide us with a viable option to air travel? We're stuck over a barrel, again.

The Economy of Nothing

Service economy...what a crock. What does that mean exactly? How can you call your economy a legitimate one when you produce nothing of value? Service generation. What are you servicing, who are you servicing? How are they getting these goods and services that you are servicing? It's all about debt and globalization. We used to have the stratification and industrial base here, local and tangible, but now all the heavy lifting has been sent to China and India. What are we left with here? The industry of debt creation and management. Strange ideas, strange days. Everyone's okay with all of this bullshit, that's what perplexes me the most.

Well, the labor economists at Harvard and BLS certainly are stuck inside their respective boxes. NPR reports the new jobs for the new decade:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122123729

Top 10 according to these dim bulbs are:

1. Registered nurses

2. Home health aids

3. Customer service representatives

4. Food preparation and serving workers

5. Personal and home care aides

6. Retail salespersons

7. Office clerks

8. Accountants

9. Nursing aides, orderlies and attendants

10. Postsecondary teachers

No one to make things, nobody growing anything. It's all very surreal.

New World Order | Front Porch Republic

New World Order | Front Porch Republic

Penance

It is disturbing how this year and decade has been ending on such a sour note for so many people. My partner was admitted into the hospital yesterday and will be spending Christmas there. I left the hospital yesterday evening and was running to our apartments picking stuff up and dropping stuff off when I ran into our friends D and I.

I went out for a quick bit of sushi with them and gave them the update on what has been going on. They had several incredibly disturbing stories from the weekend they had to share as well. D is convinced that The Higher Power is kicking us all in the ass right now as penance for our excess, selfishness and lack of stewardship over the past ten years. I can only hope that we will act more mature in the next ten and 2019 ends on a high note.

If you are having a blue Christmas, stay positive and appreciate the wonderful things in you have in your life. They are fragile and precious; just realize how things can flip topsy-turvy on you in a moment and those things can be gone. Nothing is more important than family and friends. Let them know at this time how special and impactful they are on your life. Appreciate all that you've accomplished and the things you've been able to do and experience that so many other people in the world have never nor ever will have the opportunity to do, see and feel. We're so very blessed in the developed world and most of the time don't even stop to marvel at how bloody lucky we are that we were born to the right people at the right place at the right time.

Please say a prayer for my M. I love him so much and my only wish for Christmas is for him to get better soon and come home.

Oh no! It's the "Top 10 Best/Worst (insert topic) of (insert year)" time again!!

Gods, how I hate the incessant need to do end-of-year compilations of the 'best of' by so-called 'experts' in so-called 'disciplines'. Especially in the arts. I mean, how big of an attention-whore are you?

"I'm a loser and I watch movies/game/listen to music 25 hours a day, therefore I have a duty to inform you, oh, of the untalented, film-school dropout/carpal tunnel/tone-deaf horde, what was the best and worst of this year. I am divine, I am god."

- umm, it's quite likely your opinion has always sucked, in my opinion.

And on and on...movies, music, performing arts, quotations, celebrity scandals, world events, political moments, sports, and on and on...

Hey, guess what? You have tastes and opinions, I have taste and opinions. You may or may not agree with me and I may or may not agree with you. Leave it at that, and shut up. I'll continue to enjoy my personal best of/worst of without an influence from you and your ilk, with this egotistical need to tell me what's right/wrong with what I like and what interests me. You're an idiot and insulting to my intelligence.

Now, here's my top 10 of 2009.....

DOOMED! DOOOOOMED!

What a joke. Meh, we had a good run...hopefully the next iteration of dominant species on the planet has a more intelligent go of it....in another 50 million years or so when the oil reserves are replenished with the remnants of industrial human society -- oh, the irony! ;P

Recent polls have shown that belief in global warming is waning.

Last month, Cardiff University found an increasing number of Britons are becoming more sceptical about climate change.

It found that 29 per cent believe the threat has been exaggerated – compared to just 15 per cent five years ago. One in five are hardened sceptics who believe manmade global warming is a myth. In the U.S. polls have shown that nearly half of Americans no longer believe in global warming.

Only 57 per cent of Americans agree that world temperatures are rising, while just one in three believes humans are causing climate change, the survey carried out by the Pew Research Centre based in Washington showed.

Andrew Kohut, director of the think tank, said: ‘The priority given to environmental concerns and other issues is down because of the economy and the focus on other things.

I'm laying bets nothing definitive will come out of Copenhagen, which means it'll be another 10 or 15 years before the collective get together again for two weeks of chattering, wining and dining. Canada couldn't even come close to keeping gas levels at Kyoto Protocol-agreed levels (we're, like, 26% above 1990 levels or something when we are supposed to be at -5% levels or something???). There has been no dispute in the belief among climate science and bio-systems academic circles for a decade now that anthropomorphic climate change is real and that temperatures are rising. Yet, here we are.

ROTFLMAO

what a bunch of maroons...we deserve everything we get. As with everyone else, I'm planning to burn up as much as I possibly can now before it's unaffordable and I have to start growing gardens of food by hand again. Sooner it's gone the better...let's get this shitshow on the road. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

ClimateGate and perspectives on scientific method, Or, What, me worry???

Exerpt from "Climate, Oil, War and Money"

"Against a greater welter and flow of incoherence jerking the nation this way and that way en route to collapse comes "ClimateGate," the latest excuse for screaming knuckleheads to defend what has already been lost. It is also yet another distraction from the emergency agenda that the United States faces - namely the urgent re-scaling, re-localizing, and de-globalizing of our daily activities.
What seems to be at stake for the knuckleheads is their identity, their idea of what it means to be an American, which boils down to being an organism so specially blessed and entitled that it is excused from paying attention to reality. There were no doubt plenty of counterparts among the Mayans when the weather changed and their crops failed, and certainly the Romans had their share of identity psychotics who doubted reality even when Alaric the Visigoth was hoisting off their household treasure."

Response by cougar:

The fabrication involved in ClimateGate is that there is a ClimateGate.

This was about the process of deciding what papers would be included in the IPCC report, and on what grounds they might not be. Some were marked for non-inclusion because they would be taken out of context by the deny-o-sphere to damage the IPCC report as a whole. The papers were eventually included anyway but that there was ever a discussion on the topic is illustrative.

Climate scientists have been badly burned by the professional deny-o-sphere and the corporate and government demagogues they serve. Climate scientists are now gun-shy. They see their work and their reputations dragged over broken glass for the profit of a few. It happened with the tobacco "debate" and it's happening again with climate research, and we all know how this movie ends and nobody likes it.

Climate scientists would need to be insane to *happily* continue to leave themselves open to random and baseless attacks simply because their observations and recommendations run contrary to the will of the majority. They continue to do so only because they are compelled. That compulsion ought to count for something, but clearly it does not, and they will continue to be slaughtered in the press for simply saying what is true within the context of climate research and their growing understanding of how the universe operates.

On honest reflection it might be that science is even dead, killed at the altar of corporate profits and mindless BAU, and has been for a long time. If so, then so be it. I say this as a scientist myself. If my practice is destroyed, I can do other things. Actually I can survive just fine as I have many fine skills outside investigations and data analysis. The goal of science always was to inform the interactions between humankind and the universe, but if that is no longer valued and is seen even as suspect or fraudulent... then we can probably do without it. Perhaps we have learned all we will ever know about the universe and anything more is too much information. The world used to be simpler and people lived and died (and suffered) without knowing why things were the way they were. Maybe that was a good thing. When troubles mount the people can turn to religion and mob violence -- as always they did before -- and over time reduce to a period reminiscent of the Middle Ages.

This is probably fine, and in any case may be inevitable. I don't think I can allow myself to have a problem with that if that is how the majority of the people want it to be.

Oh, but destroying climate science won't automagically restore gasoline supplies at $.17 a gallon. Everyone needs to understand that going back means having less, or even having nothing. But in fairness most won't know where the oil disappeared to, why the climate is changing, why they have less security this year than least year (every single year) or why much of anything else is happening.

But they'll be happier for not knowing. I think.

Though I don't pretend to understand that.

cougar

Response from Keithishere:

we have gone from morons to knuckleheads but I'm thinking JK's clueless is the most appropriate moniker of all.

I'm one of the old time faithful who would be proud to wear a 'peaker' T-shirt but I would seriously think twice about taking the effort to put one on.

Nobody cares because there is no benefit in accepting reality. People believe what they want to and in what benefits them. They don't care about what is really true.

Caring about truth and caring about others outside ones own tribe are acquired skills. It really is too much to expect clueless knucklehead morons to accept reality unless it feels good to them or something else is in it for them. To expect more from uneducated cheese-puff munching masses and their cheerleaders is irrational and ignores human nature.

Talk about the sky falling all we wish, it won't matter to a knucklehead until he/she gets hit on the head with a big chunk of blue.

The truth is out there and has been for years now. History is proving that people won't look for or accept inconvenient truths until they have suffered personal negative consequences. This is a truth that playing out right now.

Climate change is an inconvenient truth but it pales next to the inconvenient truth of resource depletion and it's inevitable consequences.

But knuckleheads won't accept reality until a die-off is well under way. But it won't matter then if climate change is true or not. All a good knucklehead will be caring about are selfish needs and survival.

Sorry to be so inconvenient but its not a matter of clarification explanation or persuasion. You can lead a knucklehead to the waters of knowledge but you can't make him think.

I wish it were not so.

Lemmings

As much as I'd like to rant right now about my first two weeks dealing with Translink and public transit in general, I'd like to rant instead about the lemmings that use the system every day. Despite all intentions to maintain a civil society, some units in the machine will do anything (or maybe that should be 'do nothing'?) to ensure we can demonstrate having no intelligence whatsoever as a group. There is no better place for us to collectively look like morons more than on public transit.

The Broadway-Commercial interchange on the Skytrain system is wicked enough just the way it is...a complete bottleneck, however the eastbound Millennium Line train causes even more problems when it doesn't come. Twice in the past week, the service has knocked out a couple of trains heading eastbound. Of course, the ones that did come from VCC-Clark were only double cars. By that time, the crowd has ballooned in size to double what it should be as the train comes on its 15-minute interval so everyone is sardined in the cabs once loaded.

But this morning, several test trains came through and announcements on the intercom very clearly stated that the next trains were out of service trains and shouldn't be boarded. What happens? The trains arrive, and EVERYONE clamours on! Once on, the soothing intercom voice says once again, "this is an out of service train, please get off". Everyone gets off again, completely packed against the yellow security lines waiting for the next operational train. Then one comes, and the Voice of Reason comes on the intercom again, "there is another train immediately after this one", and should have continued, "...so there is no reason for everyone to pack on the first train". No matter, everyone packs on the train anyways, apparently overjoyed about the prospect of rubbing up against all the other lemmings packed into the cars.

It was a wonderful example of our lemmingness. And it was almost as fun as my transit party at the corner of Hastings and Willingdon on Friday evening, but that's another rant for another day...