Not Just Another Canadian Snivel Servant

This is the last post in which, I will ever refer to the events of my specific workplace with this much detail.

Because words finally failed me. But, it’s okay, because me and words, we’re back together and better than before, because now my words are not alone – and they don’t have to struggle so hard for clarity and careful emotional negotiation – because in trauma recovery, I dug deep down into my childhood layers and remembered my first loves: singing, dancing, being delightful and entertaining people, and my second loves drawing and storytelling and understanding that all of this childhood enthusiasm for the whole world that was my stage – had morphed into the Family Obsession: Being a Writer.

Because, it’s very hard to be a writer anywhere – but in a funny way, especially in Canada. Because Canadians who can entertain – and speak English – move to America – making it a kinder and gentler place – not with a thousand points of lights in the sky – with with 10s of thousands of tiny small sparks – of random kindness, compassion and a laid back sensibility – that most people think of when they think: California.

But no one thinks about how many Canadians there are, working in Hollywood and the Entertainment industry who does the heavy lifting of putting out these California Sun Soaked but Canadian drenched Vibes.

I grew up in Canada. I was born in 1968 to an Icelandic Immigrant Father and a Canadian Mother who’s Ukrainian family had been in Canada for 5 generations already.

I went to school in New Westminster BC in the 1970’s to Richard McBride Elementary from grades 1 to 7 – I never went to kindergarten, because I came to school able to read and knowing how to work and play well with others.

I was picked by my peers – not last at sports, but as first for referee because I was the only kid that everyone could trust to honestly referee the school yard games.

When I was in the later grades, I was picked by teachers to lead groups and when I wasn’t, the group would naturally turn to me for leadership and I tried to turn the leadership back to the official leader or the group.

Teachers loved me because they could look out over a room of bland faces and they’d see me – blonde, blue eyed and starting intently and adoringly at them.

Never admitting it was the movie I was watching in my head.

Teachers and students in my elementary school never never threatened by or intimidated by me (unless I wanted that response) – because as bright and shiny as I stood out from the crowd, I preferred to stand behind the crowd and let everyone else be backlight by my glow.

Because I knew something that I didn’t know enough to tell, but was intelligent and sensitive enough to understand and more – to compensate for:

None of my friends homes were as happy as mine.

So, I didn’t need to be picked by my peers or teachers, because I knew I was Loved At Home and supported and encouraged.

I didn’t know why that wasn’t everyone’s experience, because I literally had nothing in my experience that was wrong or unpleasant.

We weren’t the richest or the poorest, we did alright comparatively and as part of the whole, so I learned to put my wants and needs into pragmatic context – that is – to balance my wants and needs with other people’s wants and needs (first within my family, then within my peers, then other people…) – with the understanding that other people’s wants and needs were from a place of unfullfillment, denial, thwarting and even cruelty or worse, craven indifference.

So the one thing that everyone else learned that I never learned at home or at school was how to live unhappily ever on or ever more or ever after until the sweet release of death or soldering forward on whatever crutches people lean on to get through their day.

I was Queen of the Elementary School and looked forward to High School – where I ended up very isolated from my former peers by my course selections – Challenge  English, the early break out sciences – seeing my friends only when we had the odd class that everyone had to take. But several elementary schools fed New Westminster Secondary School – and we moved.

To Chilliwack, where I attended Sardis Senior Secondary School that went from grade 8 to 12 – but grades 8 to 10 were smaller classes, there being Vedder Junior High School from grade 8 to 10 and a second Chilliwack Senior Secondary School – our Sardis Rivals – if you cared about sports.

Which, in the battle between the jokes and the smocks – I am a smock.

But my Art Smock and my Lab Coat (in case you are wondering what the hell a smock is) set me alone among the two kinds of smock kids.

  • Big Fish – McBride Small Pond – Urban Audience Pool
  • Big Fish – NWSS Huge Pond
  • Big Fish – Sardis Small Pond – Rural Audience Pool
  • Eagle, fishing, – Princess Margaret Secondary, Surrey, BC, Huge Pond

When I graduated from High School, I had only attended Princess Margaret Secondary 1 and a half semesters. Sardis Secondary’s classes were full year.

It was a difficult transition for me, because the counsellor decided that all the classes that I loved, I should take in the partial semester – so they could know I was taught the subjects I wasn’t interested in properly – because my grades were all over the map. But my grades didn’t measure my comprehension or understanding, they reflected only my engagement level.

Teachers have never understood that about students.

But it was the transition to college that was most challenging – because it was no longer me against all the kids in the hood – it was me with only the best of the kids in the hood – and I never learned to be a good student, because I was so far ahead of everyone else, that what I learned in school – what I had to learn in school – what was critical for me to learn in school – was how to slow down to where the top group of everyone else was.

Because the world is not kind to Gold. It causes something of a fever and a race to extract and purify then distill and temper and alloy and basically, cheapen into trinkets with all the colour and none of the luster.

That’s why the poets lament that nothing gold can stay, gold left alone – stays – it’s just that we can’t leave gold alone to be just gold.

We feel the need to own and force it so malleable into the distorted shapes we want it to be in to adore ourselves.

My father’s youngest brother – the one born in Canada – he was just a bit older than my oldest cousins – said to me when I was about 12 years of age – that Given a Choice between a lump of gold and a diamond – pick the diamond – because it took a lot longer for the earth to make that diamond than to make gold – and sparkles and gold is just a lump that sits there dully in comparison.

Alchemists pursued the Golden Formula for centuries in their chemical laboratories and they detailed in private codes, all the masses of data and variations and experiments, their quest for gold.

Well, we know how to make gold from base metals now – but the recipe is nothing that the Alchemists of old could have stumbled upon – because to make gold from base metals – you need nuclear fission not chemical reactions.

But the hold that alchemists gave the world was the first steps towards a true scientific method – labour intensive observation, detailed data capture.

What they were missing was a context – an understanding of the world as a natural place – because as long as religions held power and withheld wealth from the world – they knew what all God-Dictators know – what any Captain of Industry Knows – To be top dog, you have to crush the competition.

As long as the peasants were illiterate and dependent on the Crown and the Cross – the church of Europe was free to execute any early scientist for heresy.

And the modern American equivalent to the Church of Europe:

– who slowed down both scientific and as a consequence, economic and social advancement with

  • witch trials against midwives, healers and socially marginalized or isolated women and men
  • crusades against the Muslim world,
  • Spanish Inquisition
  • European Crowns vs Crosses – who’s the boss now?
  • Destruction of the Knights of Templar – the first multi-national organization that could be entrusted with your gold and your life safeguarded against all bandits – including against the encroachments of the so called Upper Classes against the burgeoning middle classes. So for protecting travellers from European Christians, the Templars were destroyed as heretics

Is the so called Moral Majority, founded by Faldwell in the 1980s and currently headed by Focus on the Family and other groups who are far too concerned with other people’s families than their own.

Because what’s great and terrible about American can be summed up with one word – and it’s a name – and that name is:


As in Presley. This guy:

can you spot the future king in high school?


Maybe this Elvis will look more familiar:

1955 - He'd already tried twice to get Sam Phillips attention

But he doesn’t quiet stand out from the group, does he, even being center stage.

Maybe you know this early Elvis image – it was used as a 1970’s album cover for “Elvis Country”:

Colorized to Sanitize

But this is the childhood image that I see in Elvis, no matter what he looks like or how old he never got – because Elvis died at 42, two years fewer than I am right now.

Elvis was a revolutionary who was killed by the establishment – only they didn’t kill him with a gun or legal hassles – they killed him with kindness – by making all his boyhood dreams come true – Elvis got to sing and dance and make movies.

Just like he always wanted and dreamed of – but Elvis’s dreams were not the dreams of Captains of Industry – Elvis’ dreams were our dreams – of achieving middle class status and of making enough to survive and thrive a little and to do something to let people put aside their troubles and worries, just for a little while.

Most people have no clear image of Elvis because what was magical about Elvis – was Elvis himself. Elvis was pure gold from the moment he entered this world…

Aloha is hello and goodbye, both at the same time

…to the day he left this world, only most of the gold was mined out of him, distilled or corrupted and sold to the general public as gold – but it was fool’s gold.

And any miner or forestry worker or fisher or harvestor or anyone who toils in the sun can tell you – if you don’t put something back into the source resource – it will just collapse.

That’s true for mine shafts, specific fish fisheries and forests – if you take material away, leave a debris field and do nothing to mitigate the losses or add some other value – the industry is not sustainable.

Elvis was loyal to his word – against his own interests – and Col Parker – like any good hustler or captain of industry can tell you – knew one thing and one thing only:

Elvis made the teenagers scream. But they wouldn’t be teenagers forever.

But what Col Parker and the entertainment industry didn’t know or didn’t care – because hey, it’s a Star System – not a babysitting service:

Is that people who use others for their gold is why Robert Frost wrote nothing gold can stay.

And most people do not know that poem as written, but as part of a book – written in the mid 1960’s by a teenaged girl, SE Hinton,  who wrote 4 novels, you might be familiar with:

The Outsiders

Rumble Fish


That Was Then…This is Now

As a teenager, in Canada in the 1980’s I discovered the gold in SE Hinton’s work, not from her novels because as a teenager, in Canada, in the 1980’s I didn’t relate to the characters and found the short novels exhausting and the characters really frustrating for just chaffing at inequality and not demanding equality, instead pushing back only enough to be left alone – for a while..

I fell in love with the stories because of Matt Dillon – who I adored for being the guy who helped my favorite Little Darling to win the lose your virginity contest, but Kristy didn’t want to win and so let the liar Tatum ONeal win and cost an innocent man his job at the summer camp.

Because while other girls swooned over Dreamy Dillon, a sanitized Elvis/James Dean for the 1970’s and then 80’s teenagers before he graduated to an adult audience – I had a mad mad crush on Haley Mills of the Disney 60’s movies and Kristy McNicoll for being so tough and sensitive – she was my 1970’s Sanitized Elvis because I knew Kristy was dangerous and still waters run deepest.

I adored Olivia Newton-John as much for her country music – did you realize that Elvis covered ONJ hits in the 70’s? and Canada’s Anne Murray? – as I did for her goody two shoes to vamp transformation in Grease.

Ah, McBride Elementary and a girl named Lisa. Who brought the earliest cheap and portable cassette tape player to school with the Grease soundtrack so she could get us all to act out the parts.

But while all the Boys wanted to play Danny to Lisa’s Sandy – none of them were willing to move like John Travolta – but Lisa wanted to perform more than she wanted to dance with a boy – so I was picked to play Danny, but I didn’t play Danny like John Travolta – I played Danny as John played Danny – as Elvis.

And I played Elvis so well, that even teachers didn’t raise an eyebrow at my wiggling my hands in the air and my knees so I fell to the ground at Lisa’s feet – while howling soulfully, I got chills, they’re multiplying and I’m loosing contro-ol…

It is weird to me to think that even with all that, people then didn’t realize that I wasn’t like the other children……

And by remembering these golden oldies of childhood, by drawing my way out of the loss of my words – and just to give you an idea:

When I started this blog – Random Ntrygg – it was about gardening, home entertainment, BBQ and photography – and sometimes a little Elvis.

But as real life events closed in and I was surrounded by people that I couldn’t communicate with – I changed and the blog changed – and all the fun sunny topics disappeared and are being recycled and re-imaged on the other blogs that I created when this one hit stride – almost two years ago – when I brough in more atheism vs Religion – topics.

When, to my mind, religion and atheism are two sides of one coin that has nothing to do with what I beleive or reality – because on my coin – it’s natural on one side and fiction on the other – and supernatural is just specialized fiction that is waves of fads, be it religion or vampires or (satanic ritual abuse) conspiracy theories….

Gold Nugget: The only people who don’t lie to you, are motivational speakers – whether you are paying to hear them or someone is talking to you in a whisper…

Because I have been on a quest to understand something about this big ol world we share, even when we pretend that we don’t and most people haven’t bothered to learn anything about this planet we call earth in this solar system, in the Milky Way Galaxy, not so far away or long ago…..

Is why – and I am talking to Pro-Religion People Only now:

Why can’t you understand that saying your beliefs are based in love – when your behaviour in the worlds big and small – is that of any run of the mill Dictator?

Now, before you start to form words in your sputtering brain – I want you to think about it.

You say you are messengers of peace and love.

But you act like and self-appointed Dictator in love with their own voice and assured of their own divinity and righteousness of purpose and slaughter or undermine any and all who – and let’s be clear – not just those who openly oppose you, but also those of us who, just aren’t into you or your false message of love.

You cannot smack someone down with your fist and then expect them to accept your other open appearing hand. Because all that an open hand looked like to someone who’s been punched and kicked to the curb – is not the hand up that you might actually be offering – but an open hand to slap or backhand or push or shove the person into the gutter, down the sewer drain.

So, Pro-Religion People – if you mean what you say – that your beliefs are based in love – then, I’m talking to the whole group now – in case the transition wasn’t clear – I am now talking to everyone again – here’s the gold nugget that I want to show you – not for you to take from me – back off, it;s my gold and I intend to keep it that way.

Because this is pure gold, from my 6 year old heart speaking from inside my bruised 44 year old world stomped on heart:

Look, feel, touch but don’t take anything unless you understand Camping Rules.

Because this is straight from my purest heart and I am afraid to show the world that heart anymore – I am afraid to leave my house, I have learned as an adult what everyone else knows as a child – people bully because no one stops them.

Knowing someone is being bullied and doing nothing is why things like World War Two Happen – Evil Thrives when Good People Do Nothing.

Okay, feeling intellectual again and safe enough to continue now. Sorry, it’s a head/body balance thing that I am working on in therapy. Where was I? Oh, right …here: for you to

… look at and look into yourself and see if there’s any gold inside you that you can built your own display gold nugget for the world – inspired by seeing but not taking my gold nugget:Because I am not willing to share my toys or my gold anymore with the world – so I will just give the world glimpses, until it’s safe enough for me to leave my house again.

Because I am what people do not chose to see – a ranting manic homeless person – only, instead of being unclean or unwashed, I look just as middle class as anyone else. And because I am as smart as I am a pain in everyone’s ass,I will say this once and once only and will say it really really slowly so simple so that even the hardest hearted of bullies – be they anti-social criminals or anti-social establishment – can understand:

What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.

But if you are not a strong person to start with, then the effort needed to not die, depletes you until the effort of merely fending off becomes overwhelming and no defense is possible  – and you are dying, by degrees, in torment, at the hands of the bullies who only had to outlast you to win and keep your head underwater.

So here’s the gold, and I actually learned this from the crazy American anti-abortion religious movement – go limp early and keep your head down.

Because the bully stops paying close attention when you stop struggling.

So, practice holding your breath and think of all the gold reserves inside you that the world hasn’t strip mined and deforested out of you.

So, don;t worry about me in the future world, because I am going to be fine – because I am exactly where I need most to be – at home, with family and friends, helping me to repair the cognitive damage that has prevented me from effectively communicating – I know – but your blog is so well written and engaging – yes, sorry world, that’s all been me on a bad day with a bully hangover.

I’m somewhat better now that I am out of the tailings pond and away from the tarsands, and mining debris and smashed down forest and can see how distressed that Canada is with this wave of Americanism from Ottawa. Not the good kind of Americanism that we can all get behind – Elvis – but the bad wave of Americanism – who killed Elvis – the Golden Boy who laid Gold Eggs – so he was treated like any duck in France – forcefed mush mash until there were no more eggs, and then slaughtered for whatever remained.

Right in front of the fans who loved Elvis so much that they supported him through good and bad – never realizing that it was this very adoration that made all the bad possible. We killed Elvis. Every one of you alive as an adult before 1977.

Because if Elvis hadn’t been held back to the bottom line: Middle Class Dreams Achieved – it breaks my heart and takes my breath away to think, what Elvis could have been, had he stayed in France, after his army service, and been the First International Artist that he was and not, just the boy from Tupelo who wiggled and took country music (I’m a drunken cheating loser songs) and blues music (World has done me wrong, pass the joint) and turned it into gold:

Uplifting feel good music that touched our blue country hearts and infused it with a southern gospel fervor and Elvis, as the man himself said – and his spoken words are the truest soundtrack for any Elvis Fan of any calibre:


So cheerful note – play Canada’s Elvis – kd lang – watch or play and keep reading:

(I just realized I’ve been writing this for 4 hours and hadn’t saved the draft, eek!)

I will get through the current situation as I always have – with a song on my lips, a dance in my hips and in my Elvis costume – the Canada Beaver Edition:

Welcome to the NinaVerse

But kd beat me to the Canada Elvis punch, so I have to, well, I will tell you, what other famous person that I most relate to and grok completely:

I am at home, alone, and I don’t want to be alone, anymore.

I have many many stories to tell – and they are for sale.

Because, when I tell stories, they are mine and when I sell them – they are the property of the buyer. Whoever that buyer may be.

So, if the buyer – for example – Hollywood – wants to buy my 12 feature Scripts, 9 Three Day Novel entries, my notebooks of stories that I have wanted to tell when I first started writing down the story ideas when I was 9 – of that Holiest of Holies – A TV Show – but not just any tv show – a Flagship Show of a Franchise set in an untapped Frontier that will do for TV what Elvis did for music – then contact me.

And, if I have stories that you know that I can tell and would like to buy and own them exclusively, with no need for rewrites – well, (sorry, had to check the email) – the deadline for the First Right to Exclusive Ownership of the stories passed yesterday at 5 PM, January 20, 2012.

So, if any one is interested in specific stories that they know I’ll be able to write – I am available for hire.

And I have always been the fastest writer in the west:

  •  9 times in the three day novel contest so by the end, I only needed 2 days to write 150 novel pages.
  • 12 screenplays, my first completed in 9 days, my fastest, completed in 8 hours (I had very good incentive)
  • As a writer, I wrote 1000 poems, 100 short stories, countless essays, research papers, briefing notes, witness statements in Human Rights and Legal contexts and so much internet forum content as to be incalculable.
  • but, as they say – these are just the ones I am willing to divulge – Google Me:
  1. Nina Tryggvason
  2. Ntrygg
  3. Random Ntrygg

I can be reached through facebook @  Vancouver’s Most Famous Unproduced Writer fan club.

And, if the buyer doesn’t want to hire me for re-writes, I’m good with that too, because once sold, it’s not my story to tell anymore.

Why I want to be Prime Minister of Canada

Clifford Olsen.

He is the reason that I want to be Prime Minister of Canada.

Because, when I was in grade seven at Richard McBride Elementary School in New Westminster BC – Clifford Olsen molested, kidnapped and murdered more children than he was ever charged with, because the Justice System at the time – much like what was done with Willie Pickton – charge for the minimum number of victims as possible to ensure a life sentence – so as to not create a gold standard for other murderers to surpass.

It’s not because I encountered him and lived to tell – but it is because I was able to face him and not become his victim that I feel an obligation to consider being Prime Minister of Canada.

It’s not entirely because the high school offered a course in career planning and part of that involved entering your work preferences and interests into a computer program called CHOICES that would then crunch through a database of 10,000 jobs and then give you a list of options.

The instructions were to print any results that had fewer than 10 careers.

My first five searches, with all or most of my criteria, unsurprisingly to me but in total shock to the teacher – resulted in zero careers.

I was simply trying to fit too much in – so I had to prioritize and compromise and finally, I was getting jobs for my search results.

The First Result was one job: Prime Minister of Canada.

The next few result lists still had Prime Minister as best suited and Movie Producer as second – other careers included communications/marketing, computer or other sciences, and creative writing/editor – publishing.

I probably still have the dot matrix print outs somewhere.

So the reason why Clifford Olsen makes me want to be Prime Minister is because the Justice System has become a system under which prisoners and accused are ensured a fair trial and that we have actually gone so far as to make the Justice System unresponsive to victims of crime and barely tolerate the families of victims who cannot speak for themselves anymore.

Don’t misunderstand – I am for prisoner rights and safety – and I am even more for the safety of prison guards and administrators – because let’s face it – they are in the prison as a day job – not because they did something wrong.

But I do not see that a system designed to contain the prison population from rioting – by offering “faint hope” of parole, by offering rehabilitation, training and education to allow prisoners the opportunity to become socially capable and responsible citizens upon release – is serving either the prison population or Canadians.

Worse, I do not think there is much justice when the perpetrator of a horrific crime – such as murder – is given every chance possible to become a responsible citizen – and the family of the victim is given no support and no meaningful voice – heck – they are the one who lost a love one – the crime is against that Family more than it is against the Crown or The People.

The loss happened to the family of the victim and they don’t get support that remotely approaches what convicted criminals get – and worse – they have to not only suffer the loss of their loved one – but also have to endure an investigation into their loved one that the impact is often – well, the perp is innocent until proven guilty – so not only do you have to endure the loss of your loved one – but also the idea that they might have brought it upon them self – as appalling an idea that is.

But that’s how it plays in the mind of the family: I have lost my loved one – and this person who is responsible for ending that life – now has to be treated with kid gloves and all kinds of consideration – even when there is little room for doubt – even when the evidence is clear, because one wrong step by police, and the warrant is voided and the evidence is gone from trial consideration.

The need for police procedures and following those procedures is clear. However, I am just going to say this – I would rather Canada have to pay restitution to a wrongfully imprisoned person than allow any obviously by the evidence honestly obtained even if not excessively technically corrected obtained guilty people walk free.

I would reduce the number of wrongfully convicted by ensuring people are not wrongfully arrested at the start or at the least, aren’t taken to trial.

Because the change that I would like to see to the Criminal Justice System is that the police are insulated enough from public and political pressure to not just investigate and arrest whoever is the first good fit.

Remember Clifford Olsen?

My Dad used to jog in Queen Elizabeth Park in New Westminster – probably because he had a beard and because he didn’t have a fancy track suit – the police followed him for a while before Olsen was caught. It was very distressing to know you were being followed by police and weren’t doing anything to warrant it in the best of circumstances so it hasn’t helped by the highly public search for a child killer.

Olsen didn’ t have a beard, the police just had no leads – because when you look at the “solved” murder figures – most murders are solvable because the murderer is known to the victim. Stranger murders, lacking the victim connection, are harder to generate leads or investigation headway.

But that’s not why Olsen makes me want to be Prime Minister.

It was Olsen using the faint hope process and whatever press access he had from solitary confinement – that allowed Olsen to continue to physiologically torture the victim families, and his living victims, specifically and British Columbians generally.

That’s not justice for anyone and it’s an extension of prisoner rights beyond personal safety and Charter Right guarantees.

And if people are so concerned that law abiding gays and lesbians not be given “special rights” – special in this case being the same rights applied meaningfully to the individual circumstance – then I have to wonder – if law abiding gays and lesbians can’t have special rights – why then are criminals and prisoners allowed not only special rights, but vigilant protection of their range of rights by the provincial and federal government?

Why are victims and their families or the families of victims – given the least consideration, protection and the smallest voice? Haven’t they been victimized enough without Establishment marginalizing victims and their families even more?

For a party that rode into Ottawa on a law and order victim rights agenda – the Reform turned CCRAP (remember when they called themselves Canadian Conservative Reform Alliance Party? they shoulda had to have kept that name) to whatever they are now being helmed by Mr. Stephen Harper; I can’t say that the party’s treatment of former MP Chuck Cadman gave me the impression that they cared about victims.

And I am a bit baffled by the Widow Cadman both suing the party for how they treated her husband AND being the Conservative MP in Chuck’s riding – the first riding in Canada to ever elect an Independant MP – Chuck Cadman after he was ousted by the party in favour of another candidate – who – I don’t recall if the Conservative Candidate got any votes, whoever it was.

In any event, although he was originally elected within a party that I am not likely to ever join, Chuck Cadman was an outstanding MP who became the first elected independent and he cast the critical vote that extended the Paul Martin government of that day.

But I don’t have any impression of his widow as an MP. No clue about her whatsoever. I don’t know if no impression is accurate, but I rarely read the local community papers – so maybe someone out there can comment here about Donna Cadman, MP?

It’s all very confusing when you look at the facts absent of context, but context leads to editorial and that often leads to …. probably some kind of lawsuit.

So, I want to be Prime Minister of Canada because I have always stood up against bullies and protected their intended targets from harm.

Which is a little bit what Canada does on an international scale – Canada is Peacekeeping – and we punch above our weight class because we have America to the south who we ride along with.

And Canadians are good with that – we don’t want to run the world, we just want to help make the world run a little more peacefully for everyone.

The world needs more Canada – not Canada the American Lite Edition.

The world needs more of traditional Canada – human rights equality, peacekeeping, universal health care and more.

Because governments should execute laws on behalf of citizens, not execute citizens or enact persecution laws or worse, undermine the existing laws and dismantle the social safety net.

Because it’s a lot cheaper to prevent crime through poverty reduction, legalized marijuana and decriminalized other drugs, through public eduction & health, grants & contributions for small business and fostering a society where everyone’s survival needs are met and the only limit to anyone’s thrive-al needs is down to their own hard work and talent – than to manage crime and build more prisons – aka prisoner universities and Club Fed resorts.

In fact, shouldn’t everyone be concerned that the current government of the day is planning to build more prisons while allowing Canada to no longer be the world’s leader of medical radioactive isotopes?

Shouldn’t everyone be concerned that some of the first things that PM Harper did upon taking office was shutting down the Charter Challenge program and gutting The Department of Status of Women? And slashing arts and community event funding? And now, despite his promise to accept Canadians acceptance of marriage equality, somehow, gay marriage is front page news again?

Do we really want a government who is more interested in imprisoning Canadians than ensuring employment and economic opportunity?

Do we really want anyone as Prime Minister who’s Canada doesn’t include everyone who’s already part of Canada?