Watch the Dynamite Lady Blow Herself Apart

Many years ago, I remember laughing at a commercial for a monster truck show. The highlight was when the announcer screamed "Watch the Dynamite Lady BLOW HERSELF APART!" 

Feels like the Dynamite Lady really blew herself apart today. That I painted this miniature a few days ago is an odd coincidence or an unfortunate portent. You decide. 
 

Trump's Song(s)

I've been following electoral-vote.com since 2004; it's my go-to site for reasoned analysis of politics in the United States. A few days ago the site's writers asked readers to suggest appropriate theme songs for Donald Trump. I did so, and they ran my choices today: 

https://www.electoral-vote.com/evp2024/Items/May11-3.html

I'm "E.W. in Edmonton, AB, Canada," around the bottom third of the page. My choices were "Entrance of the Gladiators" and "Frolic," for those who don't care to follow the link. My reasoning is explained at the electoral-vote link above. 

Command Z

Here's a neat idea: Steven Soderbergh has released Command Z, a series of interconnected shorts about time travelling to fight climate change. To watch, you pay 8 bucks, all of which goes to support Children's Aid and the Boston University Center for Antiracist Research. 

I've just finished the series, and while it's not peak Soderbergh, its heart is in the right place and there are some good laughs and thoughtful commentary on our present catastrophe. Plus, giving 8 bucks to charity to see what amounts to a feature-length film is a way better deal than most moviegoing opportunities. Three out of five stars, with a bonus half-star for trying to change the world for the better.

Perhaps a Short Era of Bad Feelings

Obviously I'm not happy the United Conservative Party won the most seats in yesterday's provincial election. I find most of their policies regressive, abhorrent, and inimical to human happiness and quality of life not just in Alberta, but beyond. 

On the other hand, the provincial New Democrats just formed the largest Official Opposition in Alberta history, and they have grown their vote share election after election. It's possible that beginning in 2015, Alberta entered an era of not-necessarily-uninterrupted right-wing rule. New Democrats have proven that progressives can win and can come close to winning. 

Indeed, had less than two thousand votes swung from the UCP to the NDP in Calgary, the NDP would have won a majority of seats. As things stand, when you consider the UCP needs to elect a speaker and one of their MLAS will sit as an independent because of her sickening comments about transgendered people during the campaign, the UCP's majority is really quite narrow--only a handful of seats. The election being this close may possibly stop the UCP from being too cavalier about inflicting their worst policies on Albertans, lest they swing just a few too many moderates away from the UCP and over to the New Democrats in 2027. 

It's a sliver of hope for more rational governance. That's what I cling to today. 

Alberta Votes 2023: A Choice of Eras

About 30 minutes from the time I write this, news stations will begin to report on the results of the 2023 Alberta provincial election. This time around, Albertans are choosing between the centrist New Democratic Party led by Rachel Notley and the United Conservative Party led by Danielle Smith. 

Should Rachel Notley's NDP win, I expect a middle-of-the-road government that will attempt to shore up Alberta's public health care system, balance the needs of the oil and gas industry with our collective need to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, protect human rights, and reinvest in public education. I also expect a government reasonably free of drama and scandal. In other words, I expect something like Rachel Notley's first government term from 2015-2019. 

Should Danielle Smith's UCP win, I fully expect her government attempt to further privatize our health care, foster the ever-vocal alt-right movement in Canada, get rid of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in favour of an Alberta police force, withdraw from the Canada Pension Plan in favour of an Alberta pension plan, slash taxes for the rich and corporations while increasing user fees for public services (including health care), and, Florida-style, attack marginalized people of all kinds through vindictive legislation. I also expect a greater-than-average level of corruption. 

Historians in the United States refer to a ten-year period from about 1815 to 1825 as the "Era of Good Feeling," renowned for its unusual optimism among the public and the political class. 

I feel like we've been in an "Era of Bad Feeling" since 2016 or so. The roots of the Trump presidency go far, far back into American history, of course, but Trump gave racists and regressive permission to say the quiet parts out loud--to openly threaten anyone not on their team, to embrace ethnocentrism and racism, and to advocate against democracy. 

I don't believe Rachel Notley's team has the power to usher in an Albertan Era of Good Feeling. I think they could deliver an Era of Relative Calm, or perhaps an Era of Hints of Better Times Ahead. 

I do believe that a UCP victory will lead to a made-in-Alberta Era of Bad Feelings. It'll be a place where the fearful and the cruel will be given outsized influence, while the thoughtful and the compassionate will have to fight to hold back the tide of regress. 

I have no idea what Albertans will choose. We'll know soon enough. 

Generation X-tinction

Last night Sylvia was out visiting Norma, so I puttered around watering the plants and trying not to choke on the wildfire smoke. This photo doesn't really do justice to the terrible air quality.
 

This one comes closer, though. My frame of mind is pretty pessimistic these days, what with <gestures at everything>. As I was shooting some photos of the apocalyptic sky, I thought about my own privilege, and how Generation X seems to be the last generation to have had a shot at living prosperously--that is, a lot of us own our own homes, we have well-paying jobs, and (perhaps) a chance at a decent retirement. Aside from a very lucky few, the Millennials, Gen Z, and those following have the cards stacked against them in terms of career opportunities, relatively stable government, general affordability, and so on. 

The post-war boom of the mid-20th century gave us the illusion and the expectation that generation after generation would enjoy more prosperity than the one preceding it. That notion has fallen apart, thanks to a tiny minority of psychopathic billionaires and their political enablers working together to hoard the planet's wealth while destroying the biosphere in the process. 

And in the midst of all this, polls still suggest that this month's provincial election is still a 50-50 race between Rachel Notley's NDP and Danielle Smith's UCP, who are hell-bent on privatizing our public institutions and reviving the coal industry even in the midst of wildfires burning down communities and poisoning our air.

What a world we've made for ourselves. 

About "Chekov's Gun"

Until this week, my attempts to write fiction have been undisciplined; typically, I just start writing. I usually have a theme in mind, and a loose plot, but I've never really made any effort to follow the formal structure of a short story--until "Chekov's Gun." So here's the story behind the story . . . 

Where No Earl Has Gone Before
For many years, I've thought there should be a Star Trek story that played on Ensign Pavel Chekov's name and that of playwright Anton Chekhov, who famously believed that if you introduce a gun at the beginning of a story, it must go off before the story is over. Otherwise, why put the gun there in the first place? "Gun," of course, could mean any significant story element, and Chekhov himself didn't always follow this principle. Even so, the pun was too delicious to resist, especially since Chekhov and Chekov are, of course, Russian. 

I was originally going to call the story "Chekov's Phaser" to align with Star Trek lore, but reverted to "Chekov's Gun" to make the pun even more apparent. 

An idea doesn't have much value unless it's used to create something, and at first I had in mind a murder mystery involving the theft of Chekov's phaser and its use in the murder of a visiting alien diplomat. But mystery writing requires knowledge and techniques that I simply don't have. I'd have to come up with something else. 

Spectre of the Gun
Guns, and weapons in general, loom large in human culture and our collective artistic tradition. Guns are particularly potent symbols because practically anyone can wield the power of life and death in one hand with barely any training at all; to kill has become practically effortless, and that reality has resulted in millions of deaths in just a few centuries. 

In action-adventure stories, guns and their consequences are often trivialized or even fetishized; they're tools of empowerment that allow heroes to overcome evil or villains to slay innocents. Film noir, crime stories, and mainstream literature sometimes treat guns with greater ambiguity, treating the problem of violence more seriously; revisionist westerns do this, too. 

But by and large, it seems to me that most people, if they think about weapons at all, probably have a neutral or positive view of guns as tools for hunting or defence. 

In Star Trek and nearly ever other science fiction series, guns are ubiquitous. But unlike, for example, Battlestar Galactica, Space: 1999, Babylon 5, and so on, weapons in Star Trek are usually seen as a last resort; we see this repeatedly through character dialogue and actions. 

That suggests there exists a strong cultural taboo in the world of Star Trek against indiscriminate use of lethal force--much stronger, I would say, than the real world of today, in which petty criminals and innocents are far too often killed by the very police who are theoretically supposed to protect them; where wars continue to rage, and are seen as justified; where mass shootings kill children and trigger only thoughts and prayers. 

Patterns of Force
On the other hand, we've seen many characters on Star Trek take lives. In the very first episode broadcast, Doctor McCoy kills a clearly sapient alien who's threatening Captain Kirk. Commander Riker guns down an alien assassin (after warning her several times to stop threatening her victim). Captain Picard kills at least one of the terrorists attempting to rob materials from his ship. Miles O'Brien kills several Cardassians during a prisoner rescue. And that's not to mention the scores of deaths resulting from starship combat. Worf kills the man who murdered his wife. Major Kira made a career of killing Cardassians during her time in the Bajoran resistance. 

Even so, if a heroic character in Star Trek kills someone, there's usually a justifiable reason for it; or if not justifiable, at least the killings are (mostly) legal in the world of the show. 

Still, it bothers me that we never see anyone on Star Trek go through any kind of emotional trauma after they've vaporized someone or chopped them in half with a sword. In a television production, we can assume that this trauma occurs offscreen. But I think it would be valuable to Star Trek if the creators devoted at least one episode to the costs of killing, even when the circumstances seem to leave no other option. 

The Enemy Within
Here, then, was my theme for the story; the price of killing. I wanted to explicitly show that even if it appears the characters on Star Trek sometimes take lives without seeming to feel any remorse, I think if we are to have any sympathy for our heroes we have to believe their consciences weigh heavily in the aftermath. 

Once I had my theme in mind, I just needed to put poor Chekov in a situation where he would be forced to kill--and be forced to face the consequences of his choice. 

A Private Little War
Once putting my thoughts in order, I turned all the way back to grade school Language Arts classes to recall the structure of a short story: exposition, complication (or conflict), which together form the rising action; the climax; and the falling action, including the denouement or resolution. Following this structure ensured I put the right elements in the story in the right places without missing anything important. 

Wink of an Eye
Following a formal structure helped clarify my thinking and gave me the confidence I needed to try some little tricks; for example, while Chekov's phaser is the obvious "gun" referenced in the title, it's not the only one: Chekov's esper rating and the bronze gunk he gets on his clothing also play key roles in the plot. 

I have one aside: During revision, I discovered a continuity error, and at first I wrote it out--but then, indulging a bit of playfulness, I left it intact. Why? Because the original series had all kinds of continuity errors, and inserting one by accident tickled me a little. Can you spot it? 

Pierre Trudeau Action Figure

Here's what Stable Diffusion came up with when I prompted it to create an image of Pierre Trudeau as an action figure. Not too bad, all things considered. Too many fingers, though...
 

Cock of the Perp Walk

 

Stable Indictment

At long last, Donald Trump has been indicted for one of his many alleged crimes. Let justice prevail. 

EDIT: Make that more than 30 alleged crimes. 

The Cage Redux

Posted earlier today, Antonio Melonio's essay "Capitalism’s Golden Cage and the Illusion of Freedom" reflects my own thoughts on our deeply flawed, nearly dystopian civilization. In a couple of hundred words, Melonio outlines the high-level contradictions of our supposedly "free" society. "You are free, but . . . " "You can do meaningful and important things, but . . ." 

It's worth a read, unless you're already feeling down. 

Some Thoughts on Bright Victory

 

In Mark Robson's Bright Victory (1951), Sergeant Larry Nevins (Arthur Kennedy) is blinded by a Nazi sniper and returns home to adjust to an entirely new way of living. Kennedy is great in the role, believably bitter in the first act, but growing in confidence as he learns how to navigate without sight. 

Of course there's a family waiting at home, and his girl, Chris Paterson (Julie Adams). But romantic complications arise during Larry's rehabilitation, when he strikes up a friendship with the beautiful and compassionate Judy Greene (Peggy Dow). He also forms a close relationship with another blinded solider, Joe Morgan (James Edwards), who happens to be black. These intersecting relationships - along with, in the second and third acts, his parents, Judy's family, and Chris' family - inform Larry's journey through blindness, his shifting ambitions, and his growth as a human being. 

I was ready for Nevins to have to choose between Peggy and Chris, and that particular love triangle plays out as you might expect--but it's not pat, and for part of the film I thought my expectations might have been subverted. More interesting is the relationship between Nevins and Joe Morgan during rehabilitation; both men were raised Southern, and, well, Nevins was raised with some racist ideology, and he unthinkingly uses the n-word while palling around with Joe--not knowing, of course, Joe's race. This predictably ruins the friendship, and I was, frankly, shocked not only by the use of the slur, but the frank and honest reaction to it and even Larry's insistence that he didn't do anything wrong. It takes the rest of the film for Larry's guilt and embarrassment, and the fact that he misses Joe, to percolate, and when he's finally reunited with his parents, the film is just as frank in showing how he became racist--via his parents, of course, revealed through some offhand comments from his mother, which somewhat sours the family reunion. 

And yet, this touchy subject matter is handled well, with Larry getting know know his parents better, his parents - or at least, his father - recognizing that the world is changing or at least needs to change. And it's not just about the racism; his parents try to hide it, but they're not exactly delighted that their son has come home blind. There's a lot of talk in the film's first act about how love will overcome everything, but Robson's direction, the screenplay, and the performances demonstrate that none of this is easy for anyone involved. 

In the end, Larry and Joe make amends and Larry and Peggy get together, with Larry going off to law school to begin the next chapter of his life. Yes, it's a happy ending, but it feels earned. 

Oh, Rock Hudson appears in the opening minutes of the film as a sadly doomed soldier, felled during the same attack that blinded Larry Nevins. Even with just a few lines, Hudson's charisma and presence shine through. He's very natural even in this bit part. 

And as a fan of Gilligan's Island, it was lovely to see Jim Backus in a solid supporting role as Peggy's brother-in-law and supportive friend to Larry. It's always a thrill seeing one of the Castaways in their earlier roles, before the island typecast them forever. Hmmm--typecastaways? 

One final thought--how lucky was Arthur Kennedy to have Julie Adams and Peggy Dow play his love interests? Both women are stunningly beautiful, inside and out. Must have been something. 

Fuel for Thought Control

Fuel for naught
Plots
Demands control
Finds
The means to restrict
Expressions of human compassion

 

President Larry David

Hail to the Chief Misanthrope! Pretty, pretty, pretty good.

More Troubles, More Trumples

He's after the quadrotriticale! 
 

The Trouble with Trumples

I prompted Stable Diffusion to create a painting of Donald Trump being swarmed by Tribbles, but instead it created a swarm of Donald Trumples. 

Misguided Blonde Biker

In pulp fiction Nazis make excellent villains, and so I have a handful of Nazi figures for use as bad guys in games like Villains & Vigilantes. Even so, painting these guys makes me uncomfortable, partly because there's a danger in trivializing one of the greatest horrors of the 20th century (or perhaps any century), and partly because fascism is on the rise once again right now. On the other hand, popular culture is a powerful force, and casting Nazis as the most despicable characters could possibly be one of the best means to remind people that their ideology is one of the most noxious ever created. 

I don't know. History and politics aside, I like the way the paint job turned out. And as Steve suggested, if this range of figures winds up leaving me too disconcerted to use, I can always recast them as 1970s biker gangs (only slightly less problematic, perhaps). 
 

How Would You Replay Your Life?

Replay, Ken Grimwood's 1986 novel, keeps crossing my mind even a couple of decades after I first read it in the early 2000s. The premise is simple but utterly fascinating in its possibilities and limitations: Journalist Jeff Winston dies of a heart attack at age 42 in 1988, but awakens with all his memories back in his 18-year-old body while starting university in 1963. He lives his life with the tremendous advantage of his experiences and knowledge of the next 25 years to come, but no matter what, he dies at age 42 and starts the cycle all over again, with each "replay" growing slightly shorter. 

Winston occupies his replays in various ways. He finds a different love, he gets rich, he goes public with his knowledge of the future and winds up in the custody of the US government, all the while trying to understand why he's in this predicament and what it all means. 

A Replay with a Difference
I think anyone who reads this book has wondered what they would do in Jeff's situation. I've played out the scenario several different ways, but lately my hypothetical goal has changed, as have my parameters for my replay cycle. 

Imagine if whatever force of nature or diving being was behind the replays wasn't getting what it desired out of the cycles. Perhaps it was missing something fundamental. So he/she/it decides, or evolves, a different replay methodology. 

After my first death, I get a choice. Instinctively, I know that I'm going to be reborn in my own body at a younger age, but I have a fraction of time to choose the exact date. 


I choose April 5, 1976, the day after my brother Sean is born. I choose this death for two reasons: First, because my knowledge of the future and my inability to remember precisely what I was doing when I was seven years old mean that I might do or say something before my brother's birth that might affect his conception, delaying it or advancing it by the few crucial hours or days that would mean I'd likely wind up with an entirely different younger sibling. Second, because in a sudden explosion of near-death hubris, I decide I want to use my replay to save the world from climate change - and having the knowledge and experience of a, say, 60- to 80-year old man housed in the body of a seven year old would be startling enough to attract the attention of adults with enough influence to potentially do something about my warnings of future catastrophe. 

In this scenario, the later I die the first time, the better, because I can describe the worst effects of climate change to the people of the 1970s. But even if I died now (um, please no), I think I still have enough knowledge to convince the powers-that-be that the time to act is their "now." 

Strategy: Minimize Harm to My Circles, Maximize Chances to Halt Climate Change
My first concern would be to avoid traumatizing my parents, my new little brother, my friends and teachers at school, and my extended family, at least to the extent possible. I'm not a good enough actor to play myself at seven years old, but I might be able hide the sudden disappearance of the child that I was by growing even more introverted and thoughtful than I was. 

I'd do my best to act like the kid I remembered being in Leaf Rapids: I'd toboggan in the winter, play with action figures, read voraciously, play cops and robbers, watch Star Trek on CBC, one of two English television channels we had up there. But I'd also be spending (even more) time at the library. And I'd be writing letters. 

The First Outreach
First, I'd try Dr. Carl Sagan. Going strictly my memory, I believe that in 1976 he'd probably be working on either the Viking (or was it Mariner?) Mars lander and the Voyager 1 and 2 probes. My first letter might go something like this: 

"Dear Dr. Sagan, 

"My name is Earl J. Woods. I'm a great admirer of your work and your writing. As a scientist, you know that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. I have an extraordinary story to tell you, and I'm hoping we can talk about it. But first, I have to provide you with some extraordinary evidence, evidence that might take some months or years to come to light. 

"Sometime in 1980, you will write and star in a television series called Cosmos, based on your book of the same name. The show will air on PBS, and in it you'll tie human history and civilization to astronomy, astrophysics, and the great forces of nature that shape our evolution and possibly our destiny. The show will feature music by Vangelis; the first episode will be named "Heaven and Hell," which is also the name of one of the pieces of music by Vangelis composed for the show. The show will be hailed as a major work of education, and you'll become famous for your intonation of "billions and billions." (I don't remember if you actually said/will say this in the show, but it becomes an enduring meme.) 

"Voyager 1 and 2 will not only meet but greatly exceed their mission parameters. Or was it the Pioneer probes you worked/will work on? I don't remember the specifics, but rest assured Pioneer was also a great success.

"In the election of 1980, Ronald Reagan will defeat Jimmy Carter. The Iran Hostage Crisis will end shortly before or after Reagan's inauguration. There will be an assassination attempt on Reagan in 1980 or 1981; the would-be assassin will be John Hinkley, who had an unhealthy obsession with Jodie Foster, the young actress from Martin Scorsese's film Taxi Driver.

"Star Wars by George Lucas will be the highest-grossing film of all time in the summer of 1977, though Gone with the Wind will remain the true champion when adjusted for inflation.

"Director Alfred Hitchcock will die in 1980.

"A few years after writing Cosmos, you'll write Comet with your partner Ann Druyan.

"In 1983, the Soviets will shoot down Korean Airlines Flight 007 over, I believe, the Kamchatka peninsula. This action will precipitate a massive diplomatic crisis and is seen as one of the most dangerous events of the Cold War." 

"Conservative Joe Clark will become Prime Minister of Canada for a few months in 1979-1980, leading a minority government. His government will lose a vote of confidence and Pierre Trudeau will return from 'a walk in the snow' and lead the Liberals back to power in 1980.

"Dr. Sagan, by now you will think that I'm some kind of madman, or perhaps a stalker who's somehow discovered things you thought private, like your future plans. I'm hoping that my writing this letter will not cause the events I remember to unfold differently. My only hope of your belief is that at least a few of the events I've predicted come true.

"I'm writing to you because I want to share some very important future events with you. I believe you're one of a small percentage of people in the world who understand the existential threats our civilization faces. Currently I believe you're most concerned about nuclear weapons. Take some solace in knowing that in my experience, they have never been used as weapons of war since 1945. 

"The threat humanity faces is global warming caused by burning of fossil fuels. By 2022, scientists expect that the world could warm up by another 2.5 degrees Celsius or even higher by the year 2050. In my future, the impacts of climate change are already being felt in the form of more intense and more frequent natural disasters such as wildfires, hurricanes, flooding, drought, and so on. The world's glaciers are rapidly melting, and government and industry have failed to take the actions necessary to prevent the worst from happening.

"I am not a scientist. I'm just a reasonably well-read layman. If I can prove my knowledge of future events to you and other influential people, there's a chance that my warnings about climate change could cause human beings to act more decisively and far earlier than they have in my time, which by now you'll have surmised is the early 21st century. 

"If and when you meet me, you'll probably be shocked by my appearance. But that's a problem for another time. For now, I can only hope that you'll be curious enough to reach out and perhaps conduct some scientific tests to determine if I'm telling the truth or if I'm just another crafty faker.

"I'll continue to try and remember events of the late 1970s before they happen in an effort to convince you faster. I'll write more letters as I gather my thoughts; this experience is still very new to me, and very difficult to navigate. 

"I've enclosed my phone number and mailing address just in case you threw away the envelope. How I wish I had e-mail or a cell phone to text you, but those things won't be invented for decades. Would you believe there's more computing power in my phone than there is in your most sophisticated equipment of today - probably by a factor of thousands? I'll tell you about it sometime. 

"I hope to hear from you. Thank you for showing how science is a candle in the dark. You were and are an inspiration. 

"Regards, 

Earl J. Woods" 

Backup Plans
If Sagan failed to respond, I'd probably start writing similar letters to science fiction writers and the campaigns of national US and Canadian politicians. George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry might be good bets; I know enough about the production history of their creative efforts to boggle them. They don't have the benefit of 50 years of behind-the-scenes books and documentaries. 

Securing My Own Future
Somehow, I'd convince our family doctor to check my parents regularly for specific health issues I know they'll develop later in life. I'll be nicer to my brother and more forgiving and less clueless with people my age. I'd be tempted to direct my parents to invest a little money in sure stock hits, but boy, would I be wary lest I create enough of a butterfly effect to change the course of the future and make my predictions less and less accurate and therefore less convincing to the people in charge. 

I'd certainly avoid getting addicted to Coke, and I'd work harder in university. I'd pursue writing jobs more aggressively and start that career earlier, given my decades of subjective experience. I'd stay in shape; keeping weight off is a heck of a lot easier if you don't get fat in the first place. 

Success or Failure?
Even if my warnings were heeded, would industry and governments take action that was bold enough and early enough to save civilization? I have no idea now, and I'd have no idea as I aged from seven up. I might get an inkling by the 2020s; if things aren't as bad in that decade the second or third or fourth time around, I'd know my strategy was paying off. Maybe, as in the book, I'd survive my destined death once civilization was safe, and maybe I'd get enough extra years of life to enjoy the fruits of my efforts. 

It's a nice fantasy. How terrible that I need it. 

Freedom Convoy (with apologies to C.W. McCall)

(Ah, breaker one-nine this here’s the Freedom Truck
You gotta copy on me, Flu Trux Klan, c’mon?
Ah yeah 10-40, Flu Trux Klan, fer sure, fer shure
By golly it’s clean clear to Lib Town, c’mon

Yeah, that’s a big 10-4 there, Flu Klan
Yeah, we’ll definitely get the snowflakes, good buddy
Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a Freedom Convoy)

Was the height of the ‘cron in February
In a Kenworth haulin’ flags
We’ll fly ‘em upside-down in Ottawa town
Our faces free of rags
We represent all the diff’rent races
Yeah, every shade of white
We’re gonna prove that COVID’s fake
By offending everyone in sight

‘Cause we got a Freedom Convoy
Whether or not it makes sense
Yeah we got a Freedom Convoy
And don’t you dare call us dense
We got a Freedom Convoy
Ain’t logic gonna get in our way
Yeah, we’re gonna roll this convoy
Until the Judgement Day
Convoyyyyy 

(Ah, breaker, Flu Trux Klan, this here’s the Truck)
(Hey, you wanna hide those swastikas?)
(Yeah, 10-4, the Fake News is makin’ us look bad)
(Better dance on some war memorials to distract ‘em)

Before long the locals were gettin’ riled
With us hollerin’ and honkin’ all night
But with the police on our side we had nothin’ to hide
We could park anywhere without a care
And piss on everything and everyone in sight

We’ll vandalize that Terry Fox
Ignore the statue’s silence
‘Cause we all know cancer patients don’t rely on science

Oh, we got a Freedom Convoy
Honkin’ through the night
Yeah, we got a Freedom Convoy
But nobody gets our plight
Support the Freedom Convoy
Ain’t nothin’ gonna get in our way
We got money from GoFundMe
And big donors from the USA

Convoy! (Ah, what’s that, Flu Klan? GoFundMe dropped us?)

Convoy! (One of our leaders wants to shoot anyone wearing masks?)

(Mercy Sakes, this is getting a little out of hand)

(Can I go home now?)

Convoy….

Hopes and Dreams for 2022

Number one, I hope we can arrange a really nice birthday celebration for Mom's 80th this summer. Number two, which, of course, has a large impact on number one, I hope we bring the COVID-19 pandemic under control. Number three, I'd love to hear some more good news in general, some hope that civilization can still save itself. 

Go big or go home, right?