chapter 56: jumping the celebrity death shark

we've covered a lot of celebrity news lately.

yes, yes i know...the people wanna see every little detail of the last chapter of the lurid book that contained michael jackson's story. don't lie, you've been watching.

it's the dream "i gotta see that" story.

the mystery death.

the drugs.

the sex (alleged sex, ahem).

the family feud.

the creepy shots of a procession rolling down the highway in a bzarro version of the oj simpson slo-mo getaway. and inside one of the vehicles, a coffin that may contain a body or cinderblocks!

ok yes, the spellbinding talent and showmanship. there was that for sure.

but it's been nearly two weeks. enough already. there are wars going on. real people dying.

for mj's tragic upbringing early, the isolation when he got famous, then jealous scavenging later by his own family, up to and including his apparently self-destructive death (i'm looking at you joe jackson, plugging your label) i actually felt terrible for him. it's the classic rags-riches-rags story of fame. it's a good ole rock and roll flameout.

but it's becoming an ugly, self-perpetuating mess, and i blame the family. i find almost all of them mildly off-putting to outright despicable, and now that the story's basically dead, we're giving this strange brood exactly what they want. fame.

it would drive me completely stark-raving mad if it weren't for completely ridiculous things like this -- proving that yes, we are going to hell in a handbasket. but it's still absurdly amusing.

warning: the following rap tribute contains language you may find offensive. it contains a low talent threshold, which you may also find offensive. it contains a pro basketball player rapping. badly.

chapter 55: my canada

i have a confession to make: i hate crowds. i usually avoid big events, because i generally don't like to be stuck in huge throngs of people. there's something about losing my personal space that rubs me wrong.

i've always been a bit of a loner...and i guess that's part of what i love about canada; the country is so big, there's usually more than enough space for everyone, even in big cities. you can always find a tranquil spot with a stunning view and just sit and think quietly and reflect on the nearly never-ending beauty in front of you.

it's crowded in the west end today. people everywhere. restaurants, bars, shops, beaches, sidewalks, buses...everything is packed.

but today i don't mind.

i look around and see the whole world. i hear different languages, see different skin colours, smell different aromas. everyone is here, and nobody looks out of place. if i didn't know better, i wouldn't really be sure who belongs and who doesn't. but, like sherlock holmes and the dog that wasn't barking, that's the giveaway.

everyone i see has as much right to be here as the next person. nobody's trying to make the chattering koreans speak english. nobody's getting mad at the slow walking indian family. nobody's telling the muslims to take off their traditional coverings. nobody's telling the panhandlers to get off the sidewalk. nobody's telling the obnoxious white teenage suburbanites to go back to surrey, even though some are no doubt thinking it.

look, i've been some places, and i've seen some things, and that kind of freedom just doesn't exist anywhere else. is it perfect? no. but it's as close as it gets on this earth.

that's my country, or should i say our country. because we all own it...miraculously, in what's often a hard, selfish, hateful world, we've learned how to share.

happy birthday canada.