A logically-airtight system of belief.

I've been running through this in my head for the past few minutes. Let me get this straight, and allow me to think out loud (or, in print).

• You create a system of religious belief which is derived from an extremely common pre-existing system.
• This system you've created highlights, as its central tenet, that anything which occurs is the direct consequence of the existence of the source of your belief system, which you naturally believe to be true, because you're an adherent to the system.
• It doesn't matter if the things that occur are "good" or "bad," they merely need to take place.
• Again, the source of your belief system is the sole determinant of whether things happen or not.
• And since things happen, they must have been caused by the source, thereby reaffirming the source's existence.
• "Good" things -- that is to say, things which the majority of people approve, enjoy or like -- are easy enough to attribute to this source, due to its all-powerful nature.
• "Bad" things, while deemed to be unpleasant to the majority of the populace, are also attributable to the source and thus prove that it exists because, well, the thing happened.
• People tend not to like "bad" things. But you posit that these things prove that the source of your belief system indeed does exist, thus reaffirming your beliefs and thus your system.
• If you showcase these "bad" things which have happened as, conversely, "good" things -- because they prove that your system of belief must be right -- people tend to get mad.

Alright, I think I got it.

The system of belief, of course, is the Westboro Baptist Church. They have about 40 adherents, which might be roughly the number of members in attendance at your local Elks Lodge meeting, but people around the world have only heard of one of the aforementioned small groups, and it ain't your local Elks Lodge.

The beauty of this system of belief is that, no matter what happens, you can point to the thing that happens and say, "Look, because God is the direct source of everything and makes everything happen, this all proves God exists. And because we know this fact, and we take pride in never deviating from it, unlike others, we're the ones who got it right."

Is this controversial when, say, a baby kitten sneezes in a cute YouTube video? Nope. God made kittens, and sneezes, and YouTube -- so we're all good, baby.

Is this controversial when, say, a US soldier dies in battle in Iraq? Yep. Americans tend to like their soldiers, and get bummed when they die; they tend not to celebrate dead soldiers as yet another affirmation that God exists and does things. But, not the WBC -- this is a time to show that, look, God did this, and therefore God is powerful, and you may as well just join up with us, because we're the only ones who look at a soldier's death this way, which is to say, the right way.

At this point, you have to make a choice. Do you...

1. grieve the death of a fellow human being, which is arguably a somewhat natural human response, or
2. put all that aside and take this opportunity to reaffirm the existence of God?

I think I may have said this before in a previous blog post, but it goes like this... if your system of religious beliefs makes you less human, it's probably not a good system to which to adhere.

Now, I'm not entirely certain why they chose the God Hates Fags thing. I can imagine that they probably figured out that homosexuality is a pretty controversial topic -- or at least it was, however-many years ago -- and that'd be their angle on the whole thing. I mean, sure, that list of bullet-points above hangs together on its own pretty well, but if you want to make things practical and comprehensible for Joe Sixpack, you've gotta give an example.

A: "Why does God do bad things to us?"
B: "God does bad things to us because... uh... hmm. Well, I know in numerous places in the Bible, it says that God loved the world and thus everything and everyone on it, but... there's this one little thing it says God's not too keen on, but we do it anyway."
A: "Oh, you mean eating shellfish? Way ahead of ya. Don't touch the stuff, myself."
B: "Well, yes, that could be. You get a bad shrimp, you're gonna be alternately shitting and puking for days. But crustaceans don't really add much zing to a religion, you know?"
A: "Yeah, I know. Besides, I like Red Lobster. How about all those fags, then, mincing-about?"
B: "A, it looks like we got ourselves a church here."
[A and B, both dudes,* furiously make out in celebration]

And thus, Fred Phelps and whoever-else was equally demented and happened to be around and agree with him, created the WBC. Hallelujah, indeed.
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* also works for two chicks, trannies, ladyboys or two-spirited persons

It's summertime, bitches.

And in the words of Otto Mann, "Two months of Spaghetti-O's and daytime television!"

(N.B. I have always hated Spaghetti-O's and all other forms of canned pasta, and daytime television is ridiculous.)

I've made it a point to tell people these days, when they ask me what I'm doing this summer -- and people do it a lot, because they know I'm a teacher and they looooooove the fact we're not in school -- I've been telling them that I'm going to make it more of a point to see this great city I live in.

To wit, here are a few things I'd like to accomplish.

• lots of breakfasts at out-of-the-way places
• buying some nice light rye at Silverstein's
• riding the entire length of the 501 Queen streetcar and taking a bunch of pictures
• finally seeing the Scarborough RT
• whole lotta baseball down at the Dome
• random trips to places like Pacific Mall
• Toronto Islands, anyone?
• riding my bike more, especially on the off-street trails
• reading books on patios while sipping beers

As you can see, it's a full summer. Barely enough time to take a 9-day solo baseball road trip, this time focused on Baltimore/DC.

Fun times ahead, for sure.

Apparently I'm in the minority here.

...which is a weird thing for a white, straight, English-speaking male to be saying, I fully realize.

I've been to a lot of baseball games. I don't know if it's more or less than the average person attending a professional game -- on the one hand, I'm a big fan; on the other, I spent a good deal of my life nowhere close to a stadium. But what I do know is when we're at important parts of games; it's a full count and the bases are loaded and it's a tie game and the world is ending or something.

Consequently, I don't need the scoreboard to tell me to MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!. Firstly, I'm not the scream-and-yell type, unless something actually deserves it ("You suck, Jeter!"). But, more importantly, I know when to make damn noise. Putting this up on the scoreboard in the fourth inning of a game with a 2-1 count with the bases empty and one out and our team up by three does not make me want to make the aforementioned sounds.

To SkyDome's credit (and yes, I still refuse to refer to it by its corporate name), they've done a hell of a lot less of this lately. It's a much better atmosphere in there these days, in comparison to the days where every. single. foul. ball. was accompanied by the sound of glass breaking, for example. Comerica Park in Detroit, home of my boys the Tigers? Eh, not so much.

So, I wrote to the Tigers telling them as such.

First off: lifelong Tiger fan, attend several games per year, if I ever got a tattoo it'd be an Olde English D.

I live in Toronto these days and attend many games at SkyDome, and in recent years they've really scaled back the scoreboard/PA sound effects, urgings to "Make Some Noise!" and the like. It used to be really obnoxious... but they've done a great job, and fans legitimately know when to cheer.So when I attend games at Comerica and are constantly subjected to these requests, I find it really detracts from my enjoyment of the game. Perhaps some fans enjoy hearing the [Harry Belafonte] "Day-O" clip, but I believe I heard it quite enough, thanks.

That said, I'll still go to Tiger games, don't you worry. It's a bit of a drive from Toronto, but I'll make it.

Go Tigers,
J

To my mild surprise, they wrote back. To my mild dismay, they ain't changin'.

J,

Thank you for your email and interest in the Detroit Tigers.

We are so happy to hear of your dedication to the team.

We will consider your request for the scoreboard. We do get a lot of compliments that fans like the atmosphere when the scoreboard prompts them to cheer. We understand we can't please every fan, every moment, but we strive to do our best.

Thank you for your suggestions.

GO TIGERS!

Really? People write into the Tigers saying, "Ooooh, we love it when you tell us mindless idiot drones when to cheer! It makes us feel amazing! Wheeeee!" I find that somewhat surprising if it's true, and somewhat dubious overall. But hey, maybe I'm truly in the minority here.

That being said, Tigers/Jays at the Dome next week, four games. You know where to find me.

Tomorrow ain't gonna be a fun one.

I'm the union rep for the teachers in our school -- it's a job with a lot of glory, a lot of prestige, and gives me a hefty pay hike.

(It also allows me to make a lot of shit up, such as the three things listed at the end of the above sentence.)

Tomorrow is a step in the staffing process where people board-wide, if they tentatively don't have a job for September, get to find out if they got placed into a position -- thereby bumping-out the least-senior teacher on staff with similar qualifications. This process, perhaps unsurprisingly (and unglamorously), is called "bumping." (No grinding, though.)

There are a lot of people on my staff that are feeling pretty edgy about Monday. And even though I'm extremetly likely to stay where I am, I'm feeling edgy too -- if someone gets The Letter, I have to be in on that meeting. And that's a very, very shitty room to be in.

I got bumped in my first year of teaching, but things eventually shook through and I got recalled. Which was great, of course -- I've only ever been at the one school, and frankly I don't see any reason to leave. We've got a good thing going.

I can clearly recall being bumped, and sitting in the staff room looking at another teacher who was a bit of a dingbat but who had so much seniority there's no way in hell she would've been bumped. I remember thinking, "I work my ass off, and she's kinda crazy. How come I have to search for a new job, and she doesn't? This is unfair."

It may have felt pretty unfair. But the point is that this entire system, which is based on seniority, is equally unfair to everyone. If it wasn't, you'd have situations where people, who might be doing a great job, get left out to dry because they weren't coaching the principal's favourite sport. Or maybe they spoke up about problems they had with admin a little too much, and got the boot. Perhaps the principal didn't like the way the teacher parted their hair.

But that's why you have unions: to make sure the rules are fair for everyone. And yes, that means that occasionally you'll get a bad teacher protected the same as a good one; it's a standard criticism of unions, and frankly it's one that I share to a point. The problem is, everyone thinks they're an expert in education because they were once a student... but just because you've been a patient in a hospital, that doesn't mean you're an expert on how to run one (or how to perform a liver transplant).

So yeah, Monday's not going to be one of those fun days at the ol' schoolhouse, that's for sure. There may be some tears in these meetings. It's happened before.

Things kids say.

As you well know, kids say some pretty strange stuff from time to time. I mean, take a look at any toddler growing up -- they pick words up from everywhere (so you'd better watch what you say around them). So, naturally, when they're teenagers, not only do they pick up new words, but they have the mental capacity to invent completely new ones -- which they do with alarming frequency.

Being a teacher surrounded by kids from every imaginable background, I get to hear quite a few of these novel words. A good number of them are somewhat vulgar... but hey, take a look at the word vulgar itself: it's the Latin word for common, as in, it was the commonly-spoken language of regular people (as opposed to the hoity-toity language used by the upper classes).

I'd say a good percentage of the new words I hear come from, or are inspired by, all sorts of Patois from all kinds of Caribbean countries, chiefly Jamaica (although Guyana and Trinidad have a pretty rich vocabulary too). When you mix all these kids together, they pick up on each other's slang, and come up with new combinations all the time. Definitions are fluid, spelling is approximate, and (perhaps most importantly) hearing your teacher say them is apparently hilarious.

(Hey, I do what I can.)

So, here are a few examples of what I've heard recently. This is by no means an exhaustive list, and six months from now these words might just disappear. But if you're looking to speak fluent South Scarberian in mid-2013, you'd better take some notes.

gursh (adj.) — gursh
Definition: extremely ugly -- "like roadkill," apparently
Example: "Did you see Alice the other day? Oh my god, she's so gursh."

gwala (n.) — gwa′ la
Definition: money
Example: "A new iPhone? That's a lotta gwala."

wha gwan (interj.) — wha gwan
Definition: an informal greeting upon seeing someone, cf. "What's going on?"
Example: "Hey Bob, wha gwan?"

cyatty (n.) — kya′ tee
Definition: a woman who is probably a little on the large side, wears brightly-coloured or loudly-printed tights or tight pants, and has a weave and/or extensions
Example: "Charlene is such a cyatty."

N.B. a year or two ago, this used to define a woman who might fit some of the physical descriptions listed above, but who would very specifically chase men who they couldn't or shouldn't be chasing, e.g. men who are already in relationships.

Cyatty Tuesday (n.)
Definition: the five-dollar Tuesday movies shown at the theatres in Scarborough Town Centre mall, ostensibly because they attract cyatties
Example: "Dave went to see Ironman 3 on Cyatty Tuesday."

I'm gonna miss these kids over the summer, I really am.*
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* Not too much, though.

So, Rob Ford.

I started writing this a week ago, not long after the whole "the mayor may or may not have been seen in a video smoking crack with known-shady people" thing broke. But I held off thinking that, jeez, when this smoothes over, maybe I'll take another crack (hah!) at it.

Because this is apparently never going to smooth-over, though, I figured I might as well throw my opinions around while the maelstrom is still whirling.

Bullet-points seem appropriate here.

• The mayor might have a crack problem.
• His family has a history of substance-abuse problems (see his sister's unfortunate case).
• He's too stubborn to resign.
• He absolutely knows that things are going badly, but he can't ever admit to the public that he's rattled.
• There's no way he's getting re-elected, but I wouldn't be surprised if he ran. Not at all.

If he'd come out after this video surfaced and said, "Look, this video is false, that's not me, but I do have alcohol and drug issues, I need a while to get myself clean," took a leave of absence and let Doug Holyday run the city for a while... y'know, I might've respected the guy a little. I'd have been proud that he admitted having a problem -- which has been no secret around here for years -- and he's gotta look after his health.

But that's not what he did. He's been trumpeting the "it's business as usual around here" line all week, in an uncharacteristic bout of availability to reporters (although for trivial things; he won't take questions about this controversy at all). It's a good thing we have a weak-mayor system around here; all he can do is be one vote on Council and stack his Executive Committee (who are all turning against him anyway these days, even hard-liners like Jaye Robinson and Dennzil Minnan-Wong). Hell, even my own Councillor, the former PC MPP John Parker, sent a Ford cartoon out in an email to constituents today (falling on Stephen Harper and Mike Duffy).

The sad thing is that a lot of Torontonians voted for this guy, even though at the time of the election in late 2010 he'd already had a very public track record of being an asshole and someone who couldn't hold his booze. Smitherman was gay, though, right?

Your guide to having a great weekend.

As I write this, it's almost midnight on Thursday night. And you know what that means: it's almost the weekend!

(Skip forward to about 2:25 unless you want to watch the members of Loverboy engaging in semi-staged faux-witty banter.)

Because the weekend is only two short days long, you're going to want to make the most out of it. But it's not like back in university, when you'd shotgun a couple of beers at the crack of noon on Friday and keep the party rolling until sometime Monday afternoon* -- you work for a living! So, here are a few tips to make sure you squeeze the most out of your grown-up reprieve from responsibility.

* * * * *

1. Get a good sleep on Thursday night.

It's almost midnight, and I should really be under the covers already. If you're up late Thursday, you're gonna feel terrible all day Friday, and by 8pm you'll be fast asleep on your couch in front of a rerun of Just Shoot Me. So, bed down early, quaff a little NyQuil if you need to, and you'll wake up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Friday morning.

2. Pace yourself.

You've made it through Friday, and now it's nighttime and you're ready to party. Now, I know what you might be thinking -- I have a trunk full of beer, a mountain of coke and some knives already jammed into the stove elements; what man can stop me? -- but you're going to want to watch it, Pedro. Friday's merely a dry run for Saturday, so don't blow your wad all in one night. Besides, you have to get up early the next morning to pick up some eleven-sided bolts at Ikea that they forgot to pack in your Flüvënhävën or some shit like that.

3. Eat sensibly.

It's Friday night, it's 3:30 in the morning, and you've been going pretty hard. What could be better than a double Big Mac meal with poutine and a side of bacon grease? The answer is, absolutely nothing. Go ahead and pound it into yourself. It doesn't matter anyway; you'll probably just be puking it back up in a little while. But, damn, that's gonna taste good.

4. Make the most of your Saturday.

Farmer's markets, craft shows, free samples aplenty at the Costco: these are things that happen on Saturday mornings. Since you probably hit it too hard the night before, you're best off sleeping until past 4 -- woken up by intermittent bouts of projectile-vomiting, of course. Stay in bed, asshole!

5. Saturday night is the real thing.

Well, you made it through Friday without any (permanent) damage to your liver, a few hours in the drunk tank, or somehow waking up wearing someone else's socks on the outskirts of Owen Sound. Saturday is the real deal: get yourself gussied-up, pimped-out, whored-down, whatever's the parlance of the day. Then, plunk yourself down in front of the TV and watch that episode of Frontline on PBS you've been meaning to catch, maybe make a donation and get a nifty tote bag, and turn-in early. Besides, there's church tomorrow morning, if that's your thing.

6. Sunday is a day of rest.

• Meet the Press: NBC, 9am
• This Week with George Stephanopoulos: ABC, 10am
• Question Period: CTV, 11am

There's your plans right there. Make yourself a nice pot of coffee, grab the coziest blanket you have, and catch all those riveting round-table discussions on flat taxes, congressional redistricting and the latest goings-on in the Centre Block. Take notes; there's bound to be water-cooler talk on Monday about them, and you don't want to look the buffoon, do you?

7. Have a nice family dinner.

Grab a chicken from the coop, kill it, gut it, dress it, stuff it, and put it in the oven. (You all have chicken coops, right?) Make up a nice big pot of mashed potatoes, invite over the family (or someone else's, if you're an orphan), and enjoy each other's company -- until your mom asks you again if you're sure you're not gay because she hasn't met a girlfriend of yours in a while. Or ever. And you respond the same way you always do: Mom, just because your life has been an abject failure and "the 'beetus" took your toes doesn't mean you have to take out all your aggression on your children. But maybe that's just my family.

* * * * *

Whoops! Midnight, the "witching hour." And speaking of witches, has anyone heard from Ann Coulter lately? Anyway, it's off to bed for me. Good night, and have a fantastic weekend.
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* I went to Waterloo, so this never, ever, EVER happened.