23 JUNE - The London Yodeller

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23 JUNE — 06 juLY 2016 4.13
hermaneutics
The Man Who Understood Dickens
by
Herman Goodden
The
English-speaking world
celebrated the bicentennial of
Charles Dickens’ birth a few years ago,
according him accolades second only to
William Shakespeare for sheer fecundity
in the service of literary genius. Not so
widely acknowledged at that time was
the impact of the great Catholic writer
and apologist, G.K. Chesterton (1874-
www.londonyodeller.ca
Publisher Bruce Monck
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Editor Herman Goodden
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Layout Kirtley Jarvis
EVENTS Alysha Monck
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Contributors
Paula Adamick / Ciara Allen
Susan Cassan / Dave Clarke
Joseph Couture / Shane Delear
Nida Home Doherty
Adam Corrigan Holowitz
Andrew Lawton / Menno Meijer
Robert Pegg /Jason Rip
Jeffrey Schiller / Sean Twist
David Warren / Barry Wells
Advertising & Marketing
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City Media
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Published Bi-Weekly
Next issue: July 7, 2016
Printed in Bracebridge, ON © 2016
Front cover
MARCY SADDY: LUNCH TABLE
Drywall compound, Acrylic, 30”x40” [detail]
On view at The ApARTment
in the Westland Gallery
www.westlandgallery.ca
2 the london yodeller
06.23.16
1936) in framing our understanding of
Dickens. Chesterton’s acclaimed biography of Charles Dickens was published
in 1906 when Chesterton was 32 years
old, and had already tackled biographies
of the Victorian allegorical painter, G.F.
Watts and the poet, Robert Browning.
Most recently he had published Heretics,
a book-length ethical and philosophical
dispute with most of the influential writers of the late Victorian and Edwardian
periods. Notable among the few literary
heavyweights he did not do battle with
in that splendidly vituperative tome was
Charles Dickens.
Today a literary ‘biography’ will usually include a fair amount of material recounting its subject’s life. This was not the
tradition in 1906 when a life’s story would
be very lightly sketched and most attention
would be paid to a writer’s books. It might
be closer to the mark to call Chesterton’s
book a ‘critical study’ though even that
term would mislead, suggesting as it does
a level of objective detachment which the
ever-exuberant Chesterton never wielded
in any of his writing. It might be truest to
call it a ‘celebration.’
The value of all of Chesterton’s
biographies and particularly his Dickens
wasn’t so much their biographical veracity – the strokes were much too broad and
even reckless for that – as their author’s
uncanny ability to isolate and magnify
the important truths about their subjects’
writing and thinking that no one had ever
latched onto before. Significantly, in his
own massive biography of Dickens from
1990, today’s undisputed Dickens expert,
Peter Ackroyd, tips his hat to Chesterton
not as a biographical precursor of importance but as “Dickens’ best critic”.
Early on in the book – and writing
at a time when not so much was known
about Dickens’ appalling treatment of his
wife nor the tetchiness of his relations
with his publishers and professional
colleagues – Chesterton latches onto
a situation from Dickens’ infancy and
makes it serve as a kind of template for
his entire life and career. Commenting on
how Dickens’ father used to get the boy
to sing songs and provide entertainment
for his elders, Chesterton writes:
“Some of the earliest glimpses we
have of Charles Dickens show him to us
perched on some chair or table singing comic songs in an atmosphere of
perpetual applause. So, almost as soon
as he can toddle, he steps into the glare
of the footlights. He never stepped out of
it until he died . . . Dickens had all his life
the faults of the little boy who is kept up
too late at night. The boy in such a case
exhibits a psychological paradox; he is a
little too irritable because he is a little too
happy. Like the over-wrought child in society, he was splendidly sociable, and yet
suddenly quarrelsome. In all the practical
G.K. Chesterton’s introductions to
all of Charles Dickens’ works
were collected into one volume.
relations of his life he was what the child
is in the last hours of an evening party,
genuinely delighted, genuinely delightful,
genuinely affectionate and happy, and yet
in some strange way fundamentally exasperated and dangerously close to tears.”
C
hesterton’s book on Dickens
appeared 36 years after his subject’s
death in 1870 at the age of 58, so the gap
between their lifetimes was not unfathomably large. It would be like someone
writing today about J.R.R. Tolkien or P.G.
Wodehouse. Though Chesterton was
born four years after Dickens’ death,
in most ways, they occupied the same
world. Chesterton wrote at a time when
Dickens wasn’t neglected – uniquely
there has never been a period of popular
eclipse for Dickens – but he wasn’t yet
regarded as a ‘classic’ either. The cultural
overlords of the time tended to sneer at
Dickens in much the same way as today’s
academic and critical writers reflexively
dismiss any novelist who cranks out bestsellers a little too quickly. In the years
between Dickens’ death and the appear-
ance of Chesterton’s book, the literary
fashions of ‘realism’ and ‘expressionism,’
led to criticism that Dickens’ worldview
as reflected in his writing was un-lifelike,
that the perils his characters faced were
exaggerated and their outcomes were
overly optimistic.
Chesterton argued that of course
Dickens exaggerated but like any selfrespecting artist he only did so, “when he
found a truth to exaggerate. It is a deadly
error (an error at the back of much of the
false placidity of our politics) to suppose
that lies are told with excess and luxuriance, and truths told with modesty and
restraint. Some of the most frantic lies on
the face of life are told with modesty and
restraint; for the simple reason that only
modesty and restraint will save them . . .
Truth alone can be exaggerated; nothing
else can stand the strain.”
Chesterton also makes the salient point that “this too easily contented
Dickens . . . this happy dreamer, this vulgar
optimist . . . alone of modern writers did
really destroy some of the wrongs he hated
and bring about some of the reforms he
desired. Dickens did help to pull down
the debtors’ prisons . . . Dickens did leave
his mark on Parochialism, on nursing, on
funerals, on public executions, on workhouses, on the Court of Chancery. These
things were altered; they are different . . . If
Dickens was an optimist he was an uncommonly active and useful kind of optimist.”
Chesterton saw that Dickens
achieved a rare and mystical balance in
his books that is the key to awakening a
drive for social reform. “If we are to save
the oppressed, we must have two apparently antagonistic emotions in us at the
same time. We must think the oppressed
man intensely miserable, and at the same
time intensely attractive and important.
We must insist with violence upon his
degradation; we must insist with the
same violence upon his dignity. For if we
relax by one inch the one assertion, men
will say he does not need saving. And if
we relax by one inch the other assertion,
men will say he is not worth saving.”
Chesterton’s biography of Dickens
was an enormous commercial and critical success which, one typical review of
the time said, “marks the definite entry
of its author into the serious walks of
literature.” The book not only established
Chesterton; it re-established Dickens on a
higher plateau as marked by the publication the very next year of the Everyman
editions of Dickens’ entire oeuvre, with
specially commissioned introductions by
Chesterton to all two dozen volumes.
02HERMANEUTICS
06
07
08
10
12
13
14
Herman Goodden — G.K. Chesterton had a lot to do with securing
Charles Dickens’ place in the pantheon of English letters
LAYING DOWN THE LAWTON
Andrew Lawton — What were they thinking? The Matt and Mo
Debacle in all of its cringeworthy glory
PEGG’S WORLD
Bob Pegg — A Canada Day special celebrating another Canadian
you’ve never heard of – Ken Leishman, the Flying Bandit
ORLANDO: TWO PERSPECTIVES
David Warren and Joseph Couture — Two unorthodox
perspectives on the worst massacre in American history
DAPPLED THINGS
Paula Adamick — Should Britain stay in the EU or back away?
A look at what’s at stake on the eve of the Brexit referendum
ESSAYS IN IDLENESS
David Warren — Is it a divine or subversive impulse when we strive
to make something better than it has to be?
BOOK CULTURE
Susan Cassan — A new book provides that ‘sober second thought’
regarding assisted suicide that our Senate is neglecting
THEN PLAY ON
Dave Clarke — Around Town: Steel Panther at the London Music
Hall / Dave’s Jukebox: The Girl Group Sound Canadian Style /
Mondo Phono: William Truckaway’s Breakaway / Shortlisted: Five
Bands Inspired by Kids’ TV Shows
GOOD
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16SUNFEST
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20
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27
28
Bruck Monck — A behind the scenes talk with Alfredo Caxaj about
the beginnings and shining future of Sunfest
FOREST CITY FOLK
Menno Meijer — The Elmwood Lawn Bowling Club celebrates 105
years of community and sport
YODELLING IN THE CANYON
Barry Wells — An interview with Stelton Hercules Ron prior to his
third London gig
PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS
Jeffrey Schiller — The dining room lives up to the distinguished
building and glorious locale of Ingersoll’s Elm Hurst Inn
ALL THAT I SURVEY
Joseph Couture — Justin Trudeau is taking his sweet time
legalizing pot and in the meantime it isn’t equally illegal for everyone
HANGOVER HELPER
Shane Delear — Of all the activities rendered more difficult by a
hangover, perhaps shopping is the worst
LOOK AT THIS
Nida Home Doherty — Erica Dornbusch at the Westland finds new
ways to see that elevate our sense of being
UNCLE BRUCE
Advice Column — A handy guide to London’s mayoral scandals of
the past 20 years. And the winner is . . .
THEATRE SPACE
Adam Corrigan Holowitz —15 year’s later, Don Fleckser once
again directs Conor McPherson’s The Weir at The Palace Theatre’s
Procunier Hall
30RIPLASH
32
Jason Rip — When the anxieties outrun the rewards, it’s time to put
away the greasepaint and step out of the spotlight
33
SOUNDS RAZOR
Sean Twist — Two not terribly angelic angels killing time as they
stand sentry outside the gates of Limbo
34
EVENTS LISTINGS
DISPATCHES FROM DYSTOPIA
Ciara Allen — An aspiring poet decides it’s everybody else’s turn to
suffer for her art
06.23.16
www.londonyodeller.ca 3
e d i t o r @ l o ndo ny o del le r. c a
HERE’S A FIRST:
UNCLE BRUCE ACCUSED
OF SUBTLETY
[Re: Advice by Uncle Bruce,
May 26, Uncle Bruce] Your
06.23.16
response to “Wants to
Support the Core” left me
baffled. “Wants to Support
the Core” wanted to know
if there were any solid
indications of improvement on the horizon for
our downtown. Was your
tongue planted firmly
in your cheek when you
quoted an article about
the Pillar Nonprofit
network? Don’t you think
that Londoners need to
take a long hard look
at the Centre for Social
Innovation & the MaRS
Discovery District in
Toronto, another so-called
non-profit organization
and social enterprise hub,
in order to get a handle on
Pillar and its new ‘Innovation Works”?
You remember MaRS
.… that brilliant enterprise
that has been sucking the
financial life out of us for
the last decade? Do you
think that perhaps we
should all contact our city
councillors and ask them
where all their newly
created jobs are? They like
to boast about job creation but they always fail to
mention that the only new
jobs in their Progressive
job creation plan are paid
for by taxpayers and they
can only be found in the
non-profit / social enterprise hubs (aka shadow
public service).
Yes, the new ‘Social
Innovation’ hubs like Pillar are all the rage right
now and they sound so
positive with all of their
focus being on fairness,
inclusivity and let’s not
forget saving the planet
as we transition towards
our new world order. But
who are the real winners
within this new job creation plan? They would be
those at the top of these
organizations and their
big left wing funders. And
the icing on the cake for
them (and nail in the coffin for us) is that all new
‘enterprises’ and ‘infrastructure’ projects will
come with legally binding ‘community benefit
agreements’ attached. The
legal, financial (and other)
obligations to uphold the
agreements, being the
responsibility of present
and future taxpayers of
course. And those private
sector jobs, forget about
it!
— P. J. Dickinson
[Dear PJD — My apologies
if my tone was too subtle.
I share your exasperation
completely.
— Uncle Bruce]
DEATH AIN’T WHAT IT
USED TO BE
[Re: The Decline and Fall of
Death, Hermaneutics, June 9,
Herman Goodden] Just read
your article in The London
Yodeller, The Decline and
Fall of Death. Interesting
read, thought provoking.
Thank you. Sadly, next up
is an APP so gatherings for
a Celebration of Life will
only need family & friends
” or
to hit a “Like
or
symbol and
skip taking the time to
write of a fond memory.
— Henry
SLAG THE PERFORMANCE
IF YOU MUST —
BUT THE AUDIENCE?
[Re: Wherefore art thou,
Stratford? Theatre Review, June
9, Ian Hunter] What exactly
is being reviewed here?
It was strange enough to
sit through such a wacky,
although occasionally
humorous, performance
of As You Like It at Stratford, but to be insulted by
a reviewer who referred
to the audience which
included myself and my
friends as “Mindless old
Saps” is taking the art of
reviewing too far.
— Regards, Lynda Curnoe
A GREAT LITTLE PAPER
YOU CAN ARGUE WITH
[Re: The all-round splendor of our
May 26th issue] I have to com-
ment on three articles in
the fabulous May 26th edition of The Yodeller. The
article, PUBLIC WASHROOMS
— The Holy Grail of Self Actualization was a superb read.
Only Herman Goodden
could write such an impressive piece of literature
about bathrooms. I suggest that establishments
build a wall of washroom
cubicles including one
that is wheelchair accessible. Inside each cubical
should be a self-sanitizing
stainless steel toilet and
urinal, a sink with no-touch
taps and an automatic soap
dispenser, a hand dryer
and a hygiene product
dispenser but no mirrors.
One of the cubicles should
be designated for families
– no more dormitory style
washrooms.
Andrew Lawton’s
article, City says we want
development downtown – and
then impedes it, is one that I
cannot totally agree with. I
get the sense that in Lawton’s world, there would
be no architectural gems.
I agree that sometimes it
is just an old building with
no redeeming features
but sometimes it is a gem
that has deliberately been
left to rot and the city
needs to do something
about that scenario. I’ve
seen buildings re-fitted
and modernized with
facades saved as witnessed by
the Roundhouse on Waterloo St.
and the Budweiser Centre; although the New York Public Library is my favourite. One such
project that should be saved is
the scheduled demolition of Victorian houses on Talbot St. You
can build a great city while preserving its architectural gems,
it’s a matter of knowing which
ones to let go. If we leave it up
to the developers, whose only
goal is profit while providing
no green space or noteworthy
architecture, we will not achieve
our goal of a vibrant downtown
because nobody will come to
see glass boxes.
One such place that is worthy of saving is St. Paul’s Cathedral. The Cathedral has started
Project Jericho to raise over a
million dollars because the roof
of the Cathedral requires urgent
repairs, not only to keep the
roof overhead, but to protect
irreplaceable historic items
and works of art. And here, Mr.
Lawton, is why St. Paul’s should
be saved. It is the oldest church
in London, built in 1834. It is
architecturally significant and
does an enormous amount of
outreach – feeding and clothing
the poor and administering to
their needs. St. Paul’s is a London landmark and an integral
part of the City’s history. The
church is the Garrison Church for
the 4th Battalion of the Royal Canadian Regiment and caretakers
of the Military Colours of several
former London regiments. The
Ontario Archaeological and Historic Sites Board erected a plaque
on the Cathedral’s front lawn in
1969, acknowledging its history.
The experts say that the
roof will not survive another
winter and so as a citizen at
large, I take this opportunity
to ask, if anyone can make a
donation, no matter how small,
please do so. All donations will
be most gratefully received.
St. Paul’s Cathedral
472 Richmond St., London ON
N6A 3E6 519-434-3225
[email protected]
Donations can be made on line.
I agree with Lawton that
London has a long way to go to
attract business so that people
have a reason to go downtown.
Lawton goes on to mention the
parking and transit situation in
the core. My sense is that if the
city spent the money to provide
financial incentives for businesses to move downtown and
restore our architectural heritage, instead of spending it on
rapid transit, it would provide
far greater and longer lasting
rewards. As for the traffic situation, as Mr. Paul Cheng once
stated, if we don’t do something
about the trains we’ll never have
rapid transit.
Lastly, David Warren’s
article, Creative Destruction (which
could have been the title of Lawton’s article) was gripping to say
the least; particularly when he
suggested that if you are a capitalist, you are Godless – I won’t
even try to defend that ridiculous notion. Warren describes
the evil done by Mao Zedong to
China and its people. I was well
aware of how evil and demented
Mao was, particularly after reading, Mao the Unwritten Story by
Jung Chang – it was both riveting and disturbing. I have yet to
decide who was the most evil,
Hitler or Mao. Wicked and sinful
as they both were, Warren says
that Mao’s murder of tens of
millions of human souls was of
tremendous value to the planet
and that the Revolution was the
most sustained for the cause of
progress. I had to read that part
three times. But the kicker was
when Warren said, “Creative
destruction” is at the heart of
modern capitalism too”.
I have to deduce that Warren
enjoys none of the niceties that
come with living in a capitalist society like the right to own
property, invest in business or
have ownership of your income
or how you earn it. Warren
appears to abhor the right of private individuals or corporations
to control their own destiny. I
suppose he embraces socialism
which is simply communism
light. I really wish people like
Warren would go and live in a
socialist country where everything is state-owned and
controlled. Capitalism may not
be perfect but it is a hell of a lot
better than what Warren seems
to cherish.
NOT SO QUICKLY
THERE, BUB
[Re: A Letter to the Editor from ‘Edward’ in
our last issue regarding Paula Adamick’s
March 17 column, The Road to Genteel Suicide] In response to your Letter
to the Editor on euthanasia – aka
assisted dying – I have indeed
spoken to several physicians on
this very question, albeit conversationally. Unlike you, however,
not one of them demonstrated
the faith in their fellow man
you appear to have. Particularly when they are involved in
extreme circumstances with a
patient. And this is why they
depend on the law to protect
them, rather than compel them
to act against their conscience.
In fact, two of them are expecting the excesses of European
death delivery to occur here in
Canada at a faster rate than is
already happening in Europe.
And for the simple reason that
they have even less faith in their
government than they do in
their neighbours who they say
demonstrate precisely the same
superficial, media-driven, thinking they worry about, along with
all the bureaucratic and cultural
pressure and shallowness that
comes with it.
In the end, despite all the
flowery language, what we’re
really talking about is the wilful
killing of a human being, however difficult his/her physical
or psychological condition. And
the reason for citing Weimar
Germany is because this was
ground zero for where and how
the euthanasia movement transitioned from the ideological to
the practical in the 20th century.
But because this all seems so remote now, you may imagine that
human nature has changed.
It has not, particularly when
difficult social and economic pressures are applied. So while your
confidence in your fellow man
may be admirable, it would also
be wise to pray that it is never
seriously tested. — Paula Adamick
— Sandra Barker
06.23.16
la yi ng dow n t h e l a w t on
The Matt and Mo Debacle
by
Andrew Lawton
C
anadians are so afraid of being seen
as judgmental that sex scandals appear to lack the potency they yield
in other parts of the world – especially
with our neighbours south of the border.
When former United States president Bill
Clinton finally, in 1998, announced his
affair with White House intern Monica
Lewinsky, it spawned months of hearings
and decades of jokes. Former New York
congressman Anthony Weiner’s pastime
of sexting women he met online warranted a resignation as he sought rehab
for sex addiction.
In Canada, people shrug their
shoulders at best, or simply turn away in
disgust, when politics and sex intersect.
Indeed, some Canadians are downright
congratulatory in the wake of political
sex scandals, apparently pleased that
politicians are embracing a healthy sexuality, or some nonsense like that. Now in
06.23.16
London, we have our city’s first real sex
scandal, which only minutes after the
news broke had people rushing to defend
one or both of the parties involved, or at
least demand privacy for them.
Mayor Matt Brown admitted to a
months-long affair with now-former
deputy mayor Maureen Cassidy, who
said only that she had a “brief” relationship that “crossed a professional boundary.” Brown took an indefinite leave of
absence from his mayoral post, while
Cassidy resigned as deputy and remained
on a leave of absence from council, a
decision she made a week prior, citing
only personal issues. Both were set to
receive their full salaries while on adultery leave until public outrage persuaded
first Cassidy, then Brown to forego payment for the duration of their leaves. In
less high profile situations than theirs,
one wonders if the ‘mess-around-thentake-a-vacation’ perk will catch on as a
supplement to maternity and paternity
leaves in the public sector.
Brown made the admission to my
AM980 colleague, Craig Needles, during
a pre-recorded interview on Tuesday,
June 14th. It was hours later that Cassidy
decided to publicly admit the reason for
her resignation. Though I can’t be sure of
what prompted her confession, it’s worth
noting that Needles had been unsuccessfully attempting to reach her for several
days to solicit comment from her on the
affair. Both Brown and Cassidy blamed
their high-stress jobs and close working
relationship for their lapses in judgment
and inhibitions.
“Over the past many months, during
a period of intense workload, I developed a close working relationship and
ultimately an inappropriate personal
relationship with Deputy Mayor Maureen
Cassidy, for a brief period of time,” said
Brown.
“Over the past year and a half, my
work as deputy mayor involved long
hours working closely with the mayor
under conditions that were frequently
extremely stressful,” read Cassidy. “Over
time, we developed a very close and
highly productive working relationship.
Unfortunately, the relationship between
the mayor and me, for a brief period of
time, crossed a professional boundary.”
Both Mayor Matt Brown and now-former deputy mayor Maureen
Cassidy were set to receive their full salaries while on adultery leave,
until public outrage persuaded first Cassidy, then Brown to forego
payment for the duration of their leaves.
It appears as though the same
speechwriter is still bridging the gap
between the pair, who, according to
Brown, are no longer an item. Brown’s
wife, Andrea, released a statement saying she was “furious,” “angry,” and “very
hurt,” when she found out about the
affair, but said she is “committed to this
marriage” and expressed her hope of
rebuilding their trust. Brown’s refusal to
immediately resign suggests that he’s not
particularly interested in regaining and
rebuilding the trust of Londoners.
Let
us not forget how two years
ago, he championed himself as
the voice of change – the man to restore
integrity to city hall with his one term of
experience on council and ‘family man’
credentials. It was a little over two years
ago when Brown claimed moral superiority to his predecessors in the mayoral
race. “It should be a given that elected
officials have integrity,” he said, saying
public officials need to “model behavior
that makes us confident, that makes us
proud, that makes us hopeful, and that
sets a good example for our children.”
That same month, he pledged to “restore confidence” in the office of mayor,
as a response to “negative stories” and
“so many scandals.” “(As) elected officials, it’s our obligation to maintain that
trust,” he vowed. It’s only now that we
realize how little vows mean to Brown.
Admittedly, though I was dissatisfied
with his tendency to screw taxpayers
during his time in office, I was surprised
– and saddened – that he decided to treat
a colleague the same way.
Brown and Cassidy are both to
blame for their personal embarrassment
and that which they have inflicted upon
their families. I hope, for those families’
sakes, that resolutions are possible. In
Brown’s remarks, he did not apologize
to Londoners, nor to Cassidy’s family. To
Cassidy’s credit, her genuinely tearful
apology cited her regret based more on
the impact her actions have had on others, rather than herself. Even so, Cassidy
has been painted in much of the public
discourse of the situation as the victim.
I saw one women’s rights activist make
a teacher-student comparison, accusing
Brown of leveraging his position to boink
the poor, innocent deputy mayor.
It takes two to tango: neither is a
victim of anything but their own decisions. As a Londoner, I expect them both
to leave office permanently, if they are at
all serious about moving forward. Brown
often speaks about London being a global
city, and a competitive one, too. He didn’t
deny a question from my colleague, Needles, about whether the “inappropriate”
relationship ever manifested itself while
the two were elsewhere in the country
representing London. Perhaps the mayor
and deputy mayor shagging puts us on
par with Amsterdam in the running for
‘Best Party Cities of 2016,’ but I feel there
are higher aspirations to which we can
strive.
Brown insists that he is turning over
a new leaf. If he wants to be taken seriously, he’ll do that as a private citizen,
rather than a lying and cheating mayor.
Pe g g ’s wo r l d
The Flying Bandit –
Ever HearD of Him?
by
Robert Pegg
T
his is the Canada Day issue
of the Yodeller which means
it’s time for the annual look at
another largely forgotten yet iconic
Canadian. This year it is Ken Leishman
a.k.a. the ‘Flying Bandit’ who became
a household name for a brief period
due to some impressive bank robberies and prison escapes back in the late
1950s and early 60s.
The smooth-talking small-time
thief and traveling salesman from
Winnipeg convicted twice for armed
robbery, made national headlines by
pulling off the largest gold heist in Canadian history and escaping from jail
after his arrest, stealing a plane and
flying over the American border before
being captured in a shootout. But you
know what? The long-married Leishman was never unfaithful or banged
another man’s wife. And believe me,
given his considerable charm, if he
wanted to, he could have. Plenty.
Ken was a small town boy from the
rural areas outside Winnipeg and had
a miserable childhood full of poverty
and neglect. He didn’t last long in the
school system and his future looked
like one of low-paying dead-end jobs.
But he was a big talker and a dreamer
and found a natural source of income
as a salesman. At one point, he was
selling cookware by renting a small
plane and flying from farm to farm in
rural Manitoba.
Sadly, his dreams were bigger than
his mental and financial resources and
Ken was forever getting in trouble by
trying to come up with quick money
the easiest way possible. The first time
he did jail time was right after his wedding when all the furniture he had stolen from a warehouse where he worked
was taken away from his new bride –
along with her husband. But even when
in jail not even once did Leishman
consider having an affair with another
inmate and then blame it on “stress” or
an “intense workload” in the penitentiary’s license-plate making shop.
One of Leishman’s grand schemes
actually had possibilities. He planned
to open a hunting and fishing lodge on
a lake so far north that the millionaire
American customers who enjoy such
activities would have to be flown in
because there was no other access. It’s
a good idea and a proven success in
other people’s hands as can be seen in
almost any episode of the Red Fisher
Show. So it can be done. Just not by
someone as inept as Ken who was
quickly in debt after buying the property and flying up a bunch of lumber
for a lodge he could never raise the
money to build.
Desperate, he cooked up the
scheme to rob a bank. And it was so
simple in design, it actually worked.
All it called for was nerve, fast-talk
and dumb luck. One morning in ’57, he
took an Air Canada flight from Winnipeg to Toronto and was back home for
supper $10,000 richer. Of course, when
he followed the exact same script
three months later he was caught. Ken
manned up. He pled guilty. Again, he
didn’t make any lame excuses for his
lack of character or lapsed morals and
he paid his debt to society.
And for a number of years he went
straight. But like most people who end
up on the wrong side of the law, Ken
was basically lazy and would rather
get something for free than work for it
and that’s when he came up with the
idea of stealing a gold shipment from
Red Lake in northern Ontario when it
arrived at the Winnipeg airport. It was
a brilliant plan and went off without a
hitch. The problem was that just like
everything Ken did, the idea was solid
but the follow-up was riddled with
lack of planning and incompetence.
He had to hire some accomplices and
the result was like something out of
Fargo. After he had the gold, he had
no idea what to do with it. So he put
it in a friend’s freezer telling the guy’s
mother that it was moose meat.
But that’s about all I really want to
say about it right now, to tell you the
truth. I am writing this two days after
the sex scandal in our Mayor’s office
His dreams were bigger
than his mental and
financial resources and
Ken Leishman was forever
getting in trouble trying to
come up with quick money
and quite frankly, I’m still a bit upset. I could go on and talk about how
Ken’s story has more in common with
the American Dream than anything
Canadian but I imagine you can figure
all that out for yourself. I could talk
about how if any of this happened to a
good ol’ boy from the American south
or mid-west that Hollywood would
have made a movie celebrating him as
a folk hero years ago. The Flying Bandit
– well, we tried to mythologize the
man up here too but still he’s largely
forgotten today. But you already knew
that because you’ve never heard of the
guy, right?
Afterwards, Ken and his longsuffering wife moved to Red Lake – the
town where the gold he had stolen had
originated. But the town forgave and
embraced him. He became a member
of the Chamber of Commerce and even
deputy mayor. Ken still owned a plane
and flew ‘mercy’ flights taking sick
people from remote reservations to
the closest hospital. His plane disappeared during one such flight and his
body was never recovered.
I don’t know if London is as capable
as Red Lake of forgiving someone after
they make a very public mistake(s) and
embarrass the town – and everyone
they know on a national level. The only
talk I hear these days about our mayor
and deputy mayor and the problems
caused by their intense heavy workload is self-righteous indignation and
judgmental outrage. That’s a normal
initial response. What I don’t like is
when it remains nothing but gloating by people rubbing their hands
together with unrestrained glee. Any
person who gets joy from someone
else’s misfortune is about as morally bankrupt as the adulterers they
mock. Think about that as you read
the opinion columns in our local
press and listen to the on-air radio
pundits. And a Happy Canada Day to
you and yours.
06.23.16
ORLANDO — Two Perspectives
Legislators Should Not Take their Cues
from the Criminally Insane
by
David Warren
T
06.23.16
here have been so many
“sensitive” responses to
the nightclub massacre in
Orlando that I should like to
add an insensitive one, for the
sake of variety. I note that the
pundits — and every amateur
politician is a talking head these
days — divide roughly along party lines on whether the shooter
was an Islamic fanatic, or a
generic madman. This strikes
me as a “both/and” proposition,
rather than an “either/or.”
Yes, Florida gun laws seem
a bit lax, perhaps they should
be tightened. But then I held
this opinion before the massacre, keeping it to myself only
because it was none of my
business. Perhaps I am overCanadian, for I tend to think the
open sale of battlefield weapons such as the semi-automatic
assault rifle this Omar Mateen
was carrying, a little over-thetop. I presume that, “even in
America,” the citizen’s right to
bear arms does not extend to,
say, nuclear weapons. Reasonable men might decide upon
some reasonable limits; but
between the current spokesmen for the respective political
parties, I do not detect much
reasonable manliness; only a
propensity to grandstanding.
On the other hand, should
we look beyond the glare of
publicity, we will find that
the proportion of gun deaths
attributable to these rather
theatrical weapons is small.
To a mind like mine, the case
is not urgent; but then to a
mind like mine, such questions
should be dealt with both in
and out of season, and better
out of season when cool heads
may prevail. But this is a characteristic foible of the current
political order: that “urgent”
matters take up so much time
and space in our media-collectivized consciousness, that
“important” ones are wontedly
deferred.
My own prediction is, that
like other shocking public
events, this one will fade. The
Democritters will make as
much hay as they can, while
it lasts in the news, but will
then “move on” as their saying
goes. The Republicants will
Murder has never been an
expression of affection.
We have enough crimes
already, without inventing
redundant ones in accord
with the latest fashions
spleen then forget as usual.
Both would need a slaughter
daily at three o’clock to keep it
up. But then, as with London
and the Luftwaffe, the violence
itself becomes a source more
of tedium and inconvenience,
than real anger. The grief, once
publicly expressed, is privatized. People could remain calm
about it, so long as the RAF
were gravelling Germany, in
reply.
“Let us be clear,” as the
Obama loves to say, in his station as talking-head-in-chief.
Grand displays of public grieving are invariably fraudulent.
Those who knew none of the
victims are faking it. Those who
encourage them are morally
disordered.
As a customary principle of
politics, whether “electoral” or
“appointive,” I think it unwise
to adjust legislation, or offer to
adjust it, in response to behaviour by the criminally insane.
This confers too much power
on them. Verily, it is a mark
of our present social condition that “reforms” are guided
more and more by the hardest and strangest cases. (Dare
I mention the word, “trans”?
Was there really a continuing
national crisis in the designation of toilet facilities?)
In classical Western jurisprudence, it is considered
wrong to murder people, even
one at a time, in a nightclub or
elsewhere. This holds regardless what kind of nightclub
it is, and would apply even if
the nightclub were illegal. In
Shariah, as currently interpreted by Jihadis, the case is
more complicated, but I do not
think we should vex our minds
with it. I cannot think of any
omission in Western law that
would make nightclub massacres acceptable; or would make
any other venue for murder
exceptional to the general rule.
The need for new law would
thus be zero.
The need, specifically, for
new “hate laws” is zero, at
most. Murder has never been
an expression of affection,
to any individual or group;
specific hatreds have always
been considered in the interpretation of motives. We have
enough crimes already, without
inventing redundant ones in
accord with the latest fashions.
The intention behind them is
never exemplary of mental and
moral hygiene.
Which points again to the
deeper “problematic” (one tires
of the misuse of this word) in
politics as practised today. We
not only legislate in response
to the transient behaviour of
the criminally insane. Worse,
our legislators, though arguably sane to start with, get in
the habit of indulging insanity,
even within themselves.
Two Perspectives — ORLANDO
The Worst Case Ever
of “I told you so”
by Joseph
T
Couture
his is the worst ‘I told you
so’ ever. I take no pleasure in saying you should
have listened to me. A couple
of weeks ago, I said in these
pages that despite all the
progress gays have made, the
average gay man is a bloody
car accident. More often than
not, he is still a closeted,
self-loathing pussy. Why am I
saying this again? Because 49
people are dead and I would
bet my last dollar that one
train wreck of a homosexual is
responsible.
Everyone on the planet
knows that some whack
job walked into a gay bar in
Orlando and slaughtered as
many people as he could, supposedly swearing allegiance
to ISIS as he did it. Everybody
and his brother, especially
Donald Trump was quick to
say, “See, Islamic terrorists are
under every bed. We must kill
them all!” But as the oldest
living fruit on Earth, I can tell
you one thing for certain: the
most homophobic men in the
galaxy are closeted gays.
I would say this as a
matter of course, but in this
case it’s a bit more than a gut
feeling. One tiny paragraph in
all the coverage (so far) mentioned that a male co-worker
of the killer had to quit his job
because the guy was stalking
him. Apparently, he would
send him dozens of texts and
call him repeatedly every day.
It got so bad, the man ran as
far away from him as he could.
Now how many reasons
for that could there be? Did
he owe him money? Was he
his drug dealer? Was he bored
and lonely? Nope. He was obsessed. Obsessed in the only
kind of messed up way that a
person who would execute 50
people simply because he saw
two men kissing in front of
him would be.
As details continue to
emerge, we now hear that the
guy was a regular at the gay
club. He had been there as
many as a dozen times, usually pissed drunk. No doubt
he had seen a lot of men kissing, and probably more. One
patron told a news outlet he
was even asked out on a date
by the man. More evidence?
I’m telling you, this
guy was a screwed up
closet case
He’s described as a “body
builder.” Where do you go if
you want to stare at and take
showers with a bunch of fit
naked men? A body building
gym. I’m telling you, this guy
was a screwed up closet case.
It is convenient and fun to
scream “terrorist, terrorist,”
but this is much more banal
than that. This is a man who
grew up in a country that is
sending mixed messages. On
the one hand, there seems
to be homosexuals on every
TV show out there. Yet at the
same time, we’re all losing our
shit over dudes (kinda) in the
women’s washroom. America
is the home of the brave and
the land of the loon. That’s
why those people are dead.
It seems like people
couldn’t wait to pile up on me
to say I was wrong for suggesting it isn’t much better for
the average Canadian homo.
In the sweetest way possible, even my one and only
fan Sandra (who writes me
faithfully every article) said
she was baffled by my sugges-
tion that there seems to be an
inverse relationship between
how much acceptance we
have in the larger community
and how much we accept
ourselves.
I dared to suggest that
gay men are not only just as
messed up as they have ever
been, probably even more so,
and people crapped all over
my Cornflakes for it. But I’m
telling you, this is the way it
is. Now I can certainly understand it in the great USA where
they’re actually crazy enough
to think Donald Trump is anything but the richest piece of
white trash in the world. They
definitely have a long way to
go, and any queer outside San
Francisco will tell you that. But
here in Canada? Yes, sirree. No
doubt about it.
I spend a considerable
amount of time chasing men
around and I’m here to tell
you these guys are a real pain.
They are more embarrassed
and ashamed of themselves
than at any other point in time
I can remember. I am willing to say that is the way it
is, but I can’t explain why. As
my dear friend Sandra said to
me: “Why? This doesn’t make
sense in today’s society”. All I
can say is, I know. But it does
not change the facts.
The shooter in Orlando
may or may not have been
religious. We know he was
mentally unstable and a wife
beater with a sham marriage
that lasted four months. But
I’m suggesting this had nothing
to do with Islamic terrorism. It
has everything to do with the
worst terrorism of all – selfloathing. I’m sure if you think
I’m wrong, I’ll hear about it.
But I’m willing to stake my
reputation of this one. This guy
was a crazy fag. That simple.
06.23.16
d a p p l ed t h in gs
The Gestalt of Brexit
by
Paula Adamick
If
06.23.16
the Brexiters get their way on the
EU Referendum, some of the credit
will belong to Boaty McBoatface.
Of which more later. As I write, voters
in favour of leaving the European Union
have just registered an astonishing 19
percent lead in the polls, suggesting that
despite all the apocalyptic warnings
against it, the average Brit will vote to bid
good riddance to the cloud of control the
EU’s elitist bureaucracy has exerted over
the UK for a quarter century.
But then came the shocking news of
the shooting death of Pro-EU Labour MP
Jo Cox, 41 – just a week before the vote –
by an assailant alleged to be adamantly
anti-EU. And the game changed yet again
as both campaigns were then temporarily
suspended. Raising the ultimate question
of whether this hotly contested referendum would be suspended as well. And
by no less than the projected losers – the
Remain campaign led by Prime Minister
David Cameron?
And while this is unlikely, make no
mistake, the EU defeat anticipated for
June 23 had long been coming, since as
far back as the Maastricht Treaty of 1992
which, even then, most Brits were suspicious of, sensing that EU membership
would make a huge, not always positive,
difference to their lives, despite the reassurances of politicians. The central plan
of that treaty was that all the signatory
countries would move towards economic
and monetary union into an integrated,
supra-national Europe via a single
currency managed by an independent
European central bank. Never mind
that these states had little in common,
didn’t share a common language or even
common customs. Nor at any time was
it suggested that the establishment of a
single currency would end the individual
sovereignty of the EU’s member nations
and their power to take independent action on major and minor issues.
The results were predictable, nonetheless. As European countries gave up
sovereign power in exchange for EU membership, they found themselves overruled
by the micro-managing will of the EU’s
super-bureaucracy in matters ranging
from infrastructure and border control
to the acceptable size of bananas. They
also found themselves subjected to the bureaucratic sclerosis that afflicts all federal
bodies exerting unwieldy control over
too many people and too many matters
they know nothing about. The predictable result was that issues once decided
quickly and effectively at the local level
were soon paralyzed by bureaucratic
arrogance, indecision, interference, ineffectiveness and remoteness.
Which is why it didn’t take long for
the average Brit to feel his/her sovereignty being leeched away bit by bit, day by
day. And in exchange for what? Apart from
joining the “noble cause” of European
integration that was supposed to provide
more protection, prosperity and well-being, where were the real benefits? Fresher
fruits and vegetables at cheaper prices?
More and better wine? Easier travel
across the now borderless continent?
But were these minor pluses worth
the influx of financial migrants forced
upon them from poorer EU countries? Or
the increasing throngs of migrants from
across the Middle East and North Africa
arriving via the EU for the UK’s liberal
social benefits? The Brexiters – aka the
Leave campaign – say that the UK’s EU
membership has left her worse off, de-
spite retaining her own currency.
In opposition, however, the Remain
campaign – floridly represented by
Cameron, the corporate establishment
and bankers from the Treasury, the Bank
of England and the IMF along with world
leaders such as Barack Obama – were
wheeled out by Downing Street to predict
mass unemployment, soaring interest
rates, inflation, plummeting house prices
and even world war. To which the Leave
campaign delivered another raspberry.
And reminded their fellow countrymen
of the Maastricht Treaty, when similar
politicians and economists issued equally
apocalyptic predictions about the UK’s
fate if it didn’t join the euro. And look
what happened? The UK did not join the
single currency, possibly allowing them
to exit more easily than their neighbours.
But that hasn’t discouraged the proRemain commentariat from trashing the
Brexit leaders – such as Nigel Farage of
the UK Independence Party, Tory MPs
Michael Gove and Boris Johnson as buffoonish eccentrics straight out of Monty
Python or an Ealing comedy circa 1951 –
while positioning itself as representative
of English common sense and aristo-style
concern for Europe’s future. “Leaving”
the EU just isn’t prudent, they insist,
though what that means has never been
Regardless of how the vote
goes, millions of average Brits –
who’ve long felt sold out by their
own elites – will be voting for a
sense of freedom they haven’t
felt for a long time
clear. Perhaps this is because Britain has
never actually been ‘in’ the EU. In fact, it’s
only been half-in, half-out since it joined,
benefitting all it could from the single
market while maintaining its own currency and avoiding the euro, which many
still regard as the best of all worlds. But as
both campaigns accuse the other side of
manipulation and avoiding the real issues,
the Brexiters’ insistence that the United
Kingdom should untether itself is based on
real concerns for Britain and all of Europe.
To them, the EU has become the opposite
of the lifeline: It’s become a boat anchor
which must be raised if this once powerful
maritime nation is to freely set sail again.
They’re right to worry. Despite the
rosy assurances of Eurocrats whose
sumptuous lifestyles depend on an intact
union, Europe under the European Union
is falling apart, financially, culturally and
cohesively. And the response of the Brussels and Strasbourg machines has been
increasingly undemocratic and dictato-
rial. And ever more wasteful, greedy,
bullying and breathtakingly incompetent,
particularly with the latest migrant crisis
and the increasingly frequent terrorist
incidents. Which has led to the current
scramble for the exit doors before the EU
sinks altogether.
Brexiters, meanwhile, are confident
that once outside the EU, Britain will
become richer, safer and freer to forge her
own destiny, as she once did. They’re also
convinced that if Britain remains in the
now German-dominated superstate, she
will become grotesquely overcrowded as
mass immigration puts impossible pressure on schools, hospitals and housing,
further eroding British power, wealth and
way of life. To them, staying means more
uncontrolled immigration, eventual bankruptcy and collapse as in Greece which has
already crumbled under the EU’s watch.
Ditto for Italy, where many towns
are dying simply because the population
is not replacing itself. And Spain which
now has 45 percent of those under 25
unemployed. Ireland’s financial woes are
worsening too as baby boomers retire,
leaving a generation much smaller, more
indebted, and less able to shoulder the
cost of the welfare state’s generous
promises now being broken. Will the
incoming migrants solve this? Similarly,
the Netherlands is in a death spiral, after
years of drug-induced decadence. The
Czech government has long been on the
verge of collapse. And Slovakia, Austria
and Croatia are all mired in sleaze allegations involving governing parties said to
be funded by dirty money, criminality,
thuggery and vast amounts of cash flowing from companies, lobbyists, and middlemen across Europe. Will the incoming
migrants solve the corruption problem?
“Welcome to the corpse of Europe,”
quipped MEP Daniel Hannan on the eve
of socialist Francois Hollande’s narrow
victory over French president Nicolas
Sarkozy four years ago. Since then, life has
gotten much worse in France where Hollande’s government stimulus programs
have driven up debt, reduced prosperity
and driven away its wealthy citizens and
healthy businesses while terrorism rises
exponentially. As it does in Brussels even
as poorer countries press hard to join the
EU. Small wonder then that, at this writing, the polls were showing the Leavers so
far ahead of the Remainers.
For the Brexiters, the June vote was
a last chance. It was also a reflection
of something deeper in the British soul.
Regardless of how the vote goes – and if
it does – millions of average Brits, who’ve
long felt sold out by their own elites, will be
voting for a sense of freedom they haven’t
felt for a long time. Freedom they feel has
been sacrificed to the self-interest of Eurocrats who could never – ever – understand
the significance of Boaty McBoatface. Such
a little thing. But a big thing too.
Who is Boaty McBoatface? In a recent
public vote to name a £200-million British
polar research ship, “Boaty McBoatface”
was the overwhelming choice. The name,
so indefinably and magically British, went
viral and crashed the Natural Environment Research Council (NERC) website,
creating a sensation. “Boaty McBoatface”
was the runaway winner with 124,109
votes. But NERC said that according to its
competition rules it would have the final
say on any name. The top five suggestions
were: RRS Boaty McBoatface – 124,109:
RRS Poppy-Mai – 34,371: RRS Henry
Worsley – 15,231; RRS It’s Bloody Cold
Here – 10,679; RRS David Attenborough
– 10,284. The Royal Research Ship (RRS),
currently being built on Merseyside, is
due to become operational in 2019 as
part of the Cambridge-based British
Antarctic Survey. When it launched the
competition, NERC said it was looking for
“something inspirational” to exemplify
the ship’s work. But with less than 8
percent of the vote the winner was … RRS
David Attenborough which, while dutifully respectful, wasn’t British in the way
McBoatface so obviously was. So hearts
were broken. Again.
This result suggested, too, that – like
so many other aspects of the local bureaucratic culture epitomized and poisoned by
the EU – the fix was in. So if nothing else,
the referendum was an opportunity for
the average Brit to register his profound
disappointment and frustration through
a vote that might alternately have been
called “Snubby McSnubface”. The question
now is: Will the Brexiter vote lead to the
desired exit?
Answer: Of course not! Even if the
vote is held and Leave wins, Brexit will
be debated and studied and stalled to
death in Brussels, like the Jarndyce vs
Jarndyce case in Dickens’ Bleak House …
until the next generation gives up on any
possibility of a final ruling.
Then again, maybe not! If the yield
on the 10-year benchmark German
bund’s first-time-ever fall into negative
territory on June 14 is any indication, the
postwar European Coal and Steel Community that morphed into the socialist
EU may topple anyway – under the sheer
weight of its own corpulence, corruption
and vampiric Ponzi schemes. And no one
will weep. Except perhaps for David Cameron and the throng of suddenly impoverished Eurocrats.
p
06.23.16
essa ys in i d l e n e s s
Artes serviles
by
David Warren
T
here is no truth in the allegation
that I’m against all liberals. I am,
for instance, in favour of the liberal
arts. Thanks to the other liberals, however, our “systems of education”
have collapsed, along with our broken
families, to the level where the term
must have little meaning. The distinction
between the artes liberales and the artes
serviles becomes lost on people who, as
Josef Pieper indicates (passim), make
only a distinction between “work” and
“spare time.” This is to favour the artes
serviles.
Servile work is done for some other
purpose than the work itself. It is what
the gentlemen have been doing downstairs, and are doing again for the sixth
time in the last decade: digging up the
street. They may no longer remember
why they are doing it — the task began with the problem of burst pipes in
winter, but was complicated by efforts to
fix that, which involved extreme forms
of municipal incompetence, abetted by
arbitrary union rules. Still, the workmen
expect to be paid, and that seems reason
enough for them to keep digging.
I have mentioned before, have I
not, that modernity can be conceived
as an immense make-work project, in
which the work to be done is constantly
increasing at a rate much faster than the
work that can be accomplished, all of
which will need re-doing anyway.
Perhaps gentle reader has detected
the unconscious adaptation of my prose
rhythms, to those of jack-hammers,
pavement saws, and the infernal back-up
alarms now installed by law on machinery that moves as often backwards as
forwards. Or perhaps he has noticed logical slips, explicable from the fact that I
am being driven nuts by week after week
after week of this, starting every morning
at seven o’clock. I have come to imagine
Hell as a vast, ultra-modern, construction
site.
It is true, with equipment like this,
the Egyptians could have built a million
pyramids. But soon they would have run
out of space, and in order to maintain full
employment (one of the economic policies in Hell), devoted themselves instead
to replacing their pyramids. At which
point, the quality of pyramids would
06.23.16
necessarily decline, from the knowledge
that each is going to be demolished by
the next shift of pyramid workers.
There was a city lot still occupied
by a gas station, when I first moved into
Parkdale, more than ten years ago. It is
presently cleared for car parking, but a
small billboard announces the next building scheme. In the time I’ve been walking
through this neighbourhood, there have
been two other buildings on that site:
first a line of cheap, single-storey retail
shops, that nobody rented, then a 24hour “convenience” store, that nobody
used. Both evocative of brick lavatories.
Much servile work is to a good purpose. Agriculture is important, I insist,
although it is now despised as a vocation;
and has been fully mechanized, to disturb
all peace. I am also a secret fan of textiles,
though I hardly approve of current mass
production, mostly imported from far, far
away. And I’m not, in principle, against
building houses, or even roads, under
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Direct Funding
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Program
Are you someone with a
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requires attendant service?
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own service?
By taking on this
responsibility, direct
funding will offer you
more choice, flexibility and
control. To find out more,
visit dfontario.ca or call
1-877-626-6660.
carefully specified conditions. All these
things can be made well, or poorly. My
preferential option is for beautiful, and
well.
Even the most necessary labour, to
a purpose outside of itself, is vitiated if
“Spare time” is wasted on
the contemporary man, who
is taught from the start only
to consume, and to work
only towards fulfilling the
requirements of consumption
there are not some gestures of the liberal
in it. These tend to sneak in wherever
code-standards are whimsically relaxed,
and the strictest requirements of cash
are neglected. The mischievous thought,
“Let us make this better than we need
to make it,” is insinuated. (We might call
this the principle of The Bridge over the
River Kwai.) Let us make it as if the fate of
our souls depended upon it; because the
fate of our souls does so depend.
Heidegger says somewhere that
“truth is freedom,” and as ever with that
man there is something in it, though not
much. Mostly he talks piffle, but some of
it sounds grand.
So let me use that to segue back to
those artes liberales.
Our mediaeval predecessors, and
the classical ones who predeceased
them, built curricula around the notion that man is of value, qua man. We
should aspire to raise his condition, even
in plainly practical ways. If not all men,
at least some could be taught there are
arts above the servile; that there is more
to “spare time” than, say, circuses, or
football games, designed for the couch
tubers, from their desperate need to be
entertained in the moments when they
are not working, or sleeping, or copulating, or gorging on junk food. There
should be things done not only at a pitch
above sating crude appetites and killing
time, but to ends that are in their nature
mysterious, and thus involve contemplation.
Drawing is like that. One draws and
paints, or at least I have done, not for
the industrial purpose of “making art”
— which is a potentially servile activity,
and would anyway require more tal-
ent than I seem to have at my disposal.
Rather I do it by way of teaching myself
to see. Through this exercise I discover
how little I saw, before trying to draw it,
not only in the works of real artists, but
in the other scenes arranged moment
by moment right before my eyes. Only in
the effort to transcribe, or better, represent it, do I begin to notice what is there.
(All the best photographers can draw,
incidentally.)
It is so with music, too, for those who
try to sing, or play upon some instrument — as opposed to listening passively,
at less than half-attention, to the musical equivalent of filth. Chesterton says
anything worth doing is worth doing
badly, and I will agree, with the qualification that it is the best we can do. For
there is that pixie of aspiration, deeply
implanted in the human breast: to find or
to make what is worthy, in some sense. To
be lifted — as opposed to dumped, in the
mire of our depravities.
We are Homo Ludens, man at play.
This begins in earliest childhood (before
birth), and continues ever after in that
spirit of mimesis, or let us add the Platonic diegesis (story-telling) — the spirit
of “imitation” (weak English word). It is
a process by which we discover what is
“useful” only by the occasional accident;
in the main it directs our attention to
what is good, beautiful, and true — to the
“poetics” in command of all Creation, in
all directions beyond human reach, and
thus everywhere apparent to those who
look; to every man who would “see” with
his whole being.
“Spare time” is wasted on the contemporary man, who is taught from the
start only to consume, and to work only
towards fulfilling the requirements of
consumption; to seek the pleasures of
the fatted beast. He is taught to condemn
whatever is useless or irrelevant to this
cause; to be a pig in pursuit of acorns.
And this is true even when e.g. he tires
of acorns, and in his human complexity,
turns to sexual and other perversions
instead. His only “right” is to consume.
He is clocked, statisticized, and shivved
towards this end, and our entire moral,
aesthetic, and metaphysical order is bent
to the requirements of production and
consumption. This makes him utterly
servile.
I am trying to encourage a slave
revolt.
bo o k cul t u re
Is Assisted Suicide About to Become Canada’s New ‘Normal’?
We need to take a hard look
at this legislative change before
we or someone we love is
administered a “cocktail” of
lethal drugs without consent
by Susan
Cassan
It’s Not That Simple: Euthanasia &
Assisted Suicide Today
by Jean Echlin & Ian Gentles
Available at www.deveber.org and Amazon
C
anada is right in the middle
of making decisions about how
far we want our laws to go in
permitting Assisted Suicide.
After decades of resistance the Supreme
Court of Canada has demanded the
law against Assisted Suicide be struck
down and put a tight time line on when
a new one had to be in place. The time
has been so short that there have been
few opportunities for public input. The
House of Commons has come up with a
fairly conservative “starter” law which
narrowed the application to those in anguish that cannot be alleviated and who
are in imminent proximity to death.
Into this mix, enter the Senate
which has decided to abandon the role
of “sober second thought” to embrace
activism, possibly to convince the Canadian public that they are not just swilling at the trough but rather hip, progressive reformers who will push this
country along the path to modernity in
tune with the 72 per cent of those 2,271
Canadians Forum Research surveyed
on June 7, 2016 who said they support
assisted death.
It’s Not That Simple authors Echlin
and Gentles provide a meticulously
researched look at the Canadian legal
history leading to the change in the law
and a guide to what is really happening
in the countries that have adopted Assisted Suicide laws.
Canadians have been treated to
an information campaign that says
everything is fine in the countries that
have opened the doors to this legislation. From the “official” reports, it
would seem life is wonderful in places
where death can be obtained conveni-
ently. However, anonymous surveys of
physicians in Belgium tell a different
story. The 2007 survey revealed that
between June 1 and November 30, 2007
an estimated 1,040 or 1.9 of all deaths
occurred as a result of Assisted Death.
Only half of these deaths were reported
to the Federal Control and Evaluation
Committee. Reasons for not reporting the deaths as euthanasia included:
administrative burden (17.9%), legal
requirements possibly not met (11.9%),
belief that euthanasia was a private
matter between physician and patient
(9%) and concern about possible legal
consequences (2.3%).
The legal safeguards were ignored
more often in unreported cases. Only
17.3% were performed without written
consent in reported cases, but 87.7%
of unreported cases had no written
consent from the patient. The number
of reported cases rose from 0.23% of
all deaths in 2002 to 0.49% of deaths
in 2007. The law urged that before
permission for euthanasia could be
granted, a consultation with palliative
care physicians and their teams was required. The percentage of palliative care
involvement has declined every year
from 19.3% in 2002/3 to 8.7% in 2007.
The safeguards in the law have also
broken down with respect to the professional status of the person administering the drugs. Nearly a tenth of the
nurses who responded to the survey
on the role of nurses reported that they
gave patients lethal drugs without the
patients’ explicit request. Physicians,
who are required by law to be the only
professionals to administer the drugs,
were conspicuous by their absence.
The physician was not even present
in 58% of the cases where the nurse
administered the drugs. This is a clear
case of blurring the lines of authority
with physicians downloading the job to
nurses and/or nurses exceeding their
legal mandate.
Belgium’s expansion of the qualifications for Assisted Suicide includes
depression. This is a disease that is
treatable, and is particularly prevalent
among adolescents. People whose
ability to make a rational decision is impaired by depression are offered death,
rather than effective care.
Canadians who are under the
authority of state supported medicine
should be particularly aware of the
behavior of insurance companies in
Oregon. When Barbara Wagner’s lung
cancer returned, her insurance company refused to pay for the expensive
medication that could extend her life.
The Oregon Health Plan argued that
they would only fund treatment that
offered a better than 5% chance of
surviving for longer than five years. The
company offered to pay for suicide pills
($50.00) instead.
Our Senate is now proposing
amendments which open the door to
requests for Assisted Suicide even if the
patient is not in imminent danger of
dying and also of allowing advance directives. These changes will break down
the limited law proposed by parlia-
ment and hasten the process by which
Canada achieves the results seen in
Belgium and other jurisdictions where
the gloves come off. Living as we do
in a country where the costs of health
care are rising, we need to take a hard
look at this legislative change before we
or someone we love is administered a
“cocktail” of lethal drugs without consent or find ourselves refused treatment
because Assisted Suicide is so much
more cost effective.
What can you do? Write to your
Senator. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have
one. To let the senate know your views,
you have to write every one of them
individually. However, Senate amendments must be returned to the commons to be passed into law. There is still
an opportunity to influence your MP.
On this website: http://www.parl.
gc.ca/ put in your postal code and up
will come your MP’s name and contact
information. You can email, mail a letter,
or place a phone call. Granny will thank
you. You may also be thankful someday
if you can convince your MP to reject
the amendments because parliament
had it right in the first place.
It is worth noting that in 1995 the
Australian Northern Territory adopted
a Euthanasia law. However, strong
protest from the Medical Association
and churches plus sober consideration
by legislators resulted in the 1997 law
in the Australian parliament banning
euthanasia in all its territories. Assisted
Suicide is not, and does not have, to be
the “new normal”.
p
06.23.16
t hen p l a y on
by
Dave Clarke
AROUND TOWN
Steel Panther
at the London Music Hall
Monday, July 11th
T
hough the days of glam hair metal
bands has passed by, Los Angeles’
Steel Panther affectionately lampoon
the look and the profane lyrics of such
pretty boy bands as Poison and Motley Crue. They started as Metal Shop
releasing their self-produced debut
Hole Patrol in 2003. They changed
their name to Metal Skool and finally
Steel Panther, releasing their debut
under this name, Feel the Steel in
2009, and followed that with Balls
Out in 2011.
The current lineup of Michael
Starr, Satchel, Lexxi Foxx and Stix
Zadina has most recently released
All You Can Eat which features the
singles Party Like Tomorrow is the
End of the World, The Burden of Being Wonderful and the love ballad,
Gloryhole.
Put on some eye liner and head
down to the London Music Hall to
hear these songs and more as Steel
Panther commands the stage July 11th.
Tickets are $39.50, doors at 8 pm and
the show starts at 9 pm.
DAVE’S JUKEBOX
Girl Group Sound Canadian Style
The
early 60’s music charts were
dominated by girl groups like the
Shangri-las, the Angels and the
Shirelles as well as solo artists like
Leslie Gore, Connie Francis and Shelly
Fabares. The songs focused on the trials and tribulations of teen girls and
though the American purveyors were
popular, here in Canada we had our
own home grown examples. Here are
a few examples that get a spin on my
jukebox.
Shirley Matthews
Big Town Boy
Tamarac Records (1964)
From Harrow Ontario, Shirley Matthews put out this great tune lauding
her big shot boyfriend. It has great
backing vocals very much in the
style of the Ronettes, and was a huge
hit selling over a million copies and
earning the RPM Gold Leaf Award for
Female Vocalist of the Year. Her subsequent releases failed to click and
she retired from music in 1967.
Joan Berry
Humpty Dumpty
Chateau Records (1963)
06.23.16
Joan compares her boyfriend to the
unfortunate nursery rhyme egg,
(since he fell for her, natch) on this
tune that is very much in the Little
Eva Locomotion mode, in sound. The
flip, Just Like My Baby, is no throwaway B-side but another killer track
that became a favourite on the Northern Soul dance scene. This was Ms.
Berry’s only release.
Pat Hervey
Mister Heartbreak
Chateau Records (1962)
Her name may sound familiar since
she made numerous appearances
on such CBC shows as While We Are
Young, Holiday Ranch, Club Six and
Country Hoedown. Mister Heartbreak
was her debut and is very much in the
Leslie Gore-style in sound and lyric.
She released many 45’s throughout the
1960’s including another weeper Tears
of Misery, as well as a full album.
Rhonda Silver
Voodoo Doll
Barry Records (1963)
Rhonda seeks supernatural revenge
on her cheating boyfriend on this
perky number. She started performing at an early age and was a member
of the Girlfriends, who backed musical guests on the Alex Trebek-hosted
after-school TV show, Music Hop.
After putting out this solo effort the
Girlfriends changed their name to the
Willows, opening for bands like the
Beach Boys where the cute blonde
was introduced to both Mike Love
and Dennis Wilson, and it is said she
became the inspiration for the Beach
Boy’s hit, Help Me Rhonda. She continued in the music business joining Dr.
Music, and performing and writing as
a solo artist. She is also an in-demand
back-up singer – that’s her backing
vocals on Bob Seger’s Night Moves.
Dianne Brooks
The Orbiteer Twist
RCA (1960)
Another member of Dr. Music was
Dianne Brooks who sang this outof-the-world twist number. She was
born in New Jersey where she was a
member of the Three Playmates, but
moved to Toronto and became part of
the vibrant R&B scene. After her stint
in Dr. Music she continued to work
as a soul singer, releasing a couple
of albums and working as a back-up
singer doing jingle and session work.
She passed away in 2005.
MONDO PHONO
SHORTLISTED
Five Rock Bands Inspired
by Kids’ TV Shows
1The Archies
William Truckaway
Breakaway
Reprise Records (1971)
Leave it to the 1970’s for
this strange mix of hippie
folk music mixed with
gospel music backing
vocals and slithering synth
sounds, but that’s exactly
what Mr Truckaway’s major
label debut had in store.
Mr. Truckaway had already
tasted music success under
his real name William
Sievers as a member of The
Sopwith Camel who had
a hit with the catchy Hello
Hello in 1967.
After the Camel’s demise Sievers, with Sopwith
producer Erik Jacobsen
started working on a new
project; a debut album by
Norman Greenbaum. One of
the songs had a gospel feel
to it, so Sievers suggested
adding some real gospel
singers to the mix and
brought in a San Francisco
group he had discovered
called The Stovall Sisters to
do backing vocals.
The song Spirit in
the Sky was a huge #1
hit, so when Sievers, now
Truckaway, suggested he
had a similar project in
mind that included the
Stovall Sisters, they couldn’t
wait to give him the go
ahead, but alas – lightning
failed to strike twice and
the album stiffed big time.
Truckaway went on to open
his own recording studio
but the music business
didn’t quite have the
attraction it used to have
and William now works as
a San Francisco cab driver.
The adventures of the
crew from Riverdale High had
engaged fans in comic books
and eventually in a Saturday
morning cartoon show. A
cash-in music album spawned
the #1 hit Sugar Sugar and
subsequent hit Jingle Jangle.
Though the cartoon line up
featured Archie on vocals and
lead guitar and Veronica on
keyboards, the men behind
the tunes were ace Brill
Building songwriter and Phil
Spector-collaborator, Jeff
Barry, and Canadian pop star
Andy Kim.
2 The Banana Splits
The live-action kids show
The Banana Splits Adventure
Hour featured the zany antics
of Fleegle (the beagle), Bingo
(the gorilla), Drooper (the
lion) and Snorky (the elephant). The plushy characters
were the creation of Canadianborn puppeteers, Sid & Marty
Kroft, of H.R. Pufnstuf fame,
and of course an album and a
minor hit, The Tra La La Song
were produced. Among the
big names that wrote songs
for the fuzzy quartet were Al
Kooper, Barry White and Gene
Pitney.
3The Wombles
Based on a series of popular British children’s books,
that inspired a stop-action
TV series, The Wombles were
Hey all you film junkies
and movie addicts!
Grassroots, Player and one of
the final versions of Badfinger.
Two albums of cheery bubblegum music were released.
from new releases to
cult classics, western
film’s got your fix!
5Josie & the Pussycats
pointy-nosed burrowing
creatures intent on recycling
rubbish in creative ways. A
series of popular albums,
featuring the most musical of
the Womble family were released. The band all dressed in
sweat-inducing plush outfits
were portrayed by some very
acclaimed musicians including
ace guitarist Chris Spedding,
(sporting his trademark, white
Flying V guitar) as Wellington
Womble; songwriter/producer Mike Batt as Gringo; and
in-demand session drummer
Clem Cattini as Bungo. The
band put out four albums and
even made a surprise appearance at the famed Glastonbury
Music Festival.
Another Saturday morning
favourite were the adventures of the all-girl band, Josie
and the Pussycats, who had
made their first appearance
in Archie comic books and,
of course, were destined to
end up on an album released
in 1970 on Capitol records.
One of the band members
was Cherie Moor, who was
born Cheryl Jean Stoppelmoor
and went on to another trio
Charlie’s Angels, when she
changed her name again to
p
Cheryl Ladd.
cHeap tickets!
local organic
popcorn!
see wHat’s playing:
westernusc.ca/westernfilm
4 The Hardy Boys
The famous adventures
of Bayport’s boy detectives
inspired many live-action
TV shows as well as a Saturday morning cartoon series.
Though the Hardys and their
pals showed no musical
inclinations in the Franklin
W. Dixon novels, the cartoon
series had live action musical numbers featuring living
versions of Frank and Joe
Hardy, their husky friend Chet
Morgan (cruelly called Chubby
Morton) and two more made
up pals, Wanda Kay Breckenridge and Peter Jones. Reed
Kaling, who portrayed Frank
Hardy , had been a member of
the garage band, The Destinations, and went on to be in The
06.23.16
t h e yod e l l e r i n t e r v i e w
Behind the Scenes at Sunfest
With Artistic & Executive Director Alfredo Caxaj
by
Bruce Monck
S
unfest, this July
7th to 10th, will be
celebrating its 22nd
successful year in our city.
During a particularly busy
period of preparation and
tweaking, Alfredo Caxaj
took some time out of his
schedule to talk with The
Yodeller about this popu-
lar world music festival’s
beginnings and future.
Alfredo, how well do you
remember the first time you
said, “Let’s assemble several
world music acts here in London
and see where we end up”?
Back in the 1990’s, I
worked at the Cross Cultural Learning Centre. Here
I witnessed firsthand the
beginnings of the cultural
diversity in London. We
put together some concert
series and witnessed the
positive reaction of the
audience members, where
they really expressed how
fresh and new this was
in the community. As we
went on, the numbers kept
growing and then I realized
the need to expand this
into a regular event and I
Daby Touré
from Mauritania
and France
finally decided to make this
a summer event. When I
tried convincing the other
members of our committee
of this dream, they up and
left. Everybody quit.
You almost can’t blame
them for jumping ship. It’s
a lot of work and London
has a bad reputation for not
supporting the arts. After all,
06.23.16
we are notoriously known
as “Last minute London” . . .
when we aren’t being called
“conservative, boring and
predictable”.
(Laughs) Well, despite
all the predictions this
would be a one shot deal,
we forged ahead. And yes,
people kept asking me …
why do you want to do this
in London? But the public’s
response after our first
year was so positive and
exciting, I knew that I had
to establish Sunfest in the
most professional way. Just
the response of the community calling our office to
ask where they could get
a copy of our sun poster
was overwhelming. It was
a great response from the
community that showed
real support.
You know, many of
the amazing things that
happen in this community
are the results of individual
efforts. The most successful things are the results
of individuals who decide
to do something. Anyone
with a crazy idea that
follows them through is
generally successful in
their endeavors.
Brazilian Folk Pop artist Flávia Nascimento
So it was an event that you realized should become an annual
festival. What was the next move
to bump it to this present plateau?
We had so many
responses from our first attempt that it was so wonderful and amazing, that I
thought I would only want
to do this if we could have
the best music from all over
the world. We would have
to have the greatest artistic
vision, quality and integrity.
These have always been
the solid basis for Sunfest.
It’s a reputation we’ve built
on. We’ve built world-class
credibility and our concert
series and first Sunfest
proved that this could be
easily done.
How do you find these acts and
then convince them to come
to Canada, because to do this,
logistically, it must be pretty darn
tricky?
Heavyweights Brass Band carry on
the New Orleans jazz and brass band tradition
Progressive Electro
Afrobeat artist
Pierre Kwenders
There are a combination of things. I get many
submissions from all over
the world and we share
information from other
festivals and music markets. I get invited to these
music markets worldwide.
I find this the most valuable resource, because here
I see some groups that
are interesting and that I
really would like to bring
to London. So I really find
that to be the most valuable resource. Some of
these groups are national
heroes where they come
from but unknown here
and yes logistically, it can
really be a nightmare, that’s
for sure. We try to organize small tours generally
between Quebec and Ontario
and sometimes nationally.
This takes a lot of time and
generally is a long process.
It’s painful in some countries
where it’s difficult to get
visas. Sometimes I have to
go to our members of parliament to get support and
help, but they get that this is
an incredible event. What I
truly find amazing, is when
you go to another country
somewhere and make a
contact, then within a year
or so, one or two of these
groups end up in London
Ont. It’s an amazing feeling
of satisfaction and accomplishment because you realize, you were part of this.
Does Sunfest change from time
to time? You’ve already outgrown
Victoria Park and your numbers I
believe for attendance are around
270,000 people. Is it time to go
somewhere else now?
It’s true, we have maximized Victoria Park. There
is no question about that.
I think our next move is to
keep Victoria Park as the
nucleus of Sunfest but to expand Sunfest to the streets
of the downtown core. This
means a lot more planning,
work and of course, is pretty
expensive. As an example
right now we book over 400
rooms just for the musicians alone but the demand
to expand is there from the
community and visitors that
support Sunfest.
I’ll tell you what is so
rewarding is when the people come and enjoy the four
days, then leave the park
with the satisfaction that
this had been an amazing
weekend. That’s when these
behind the scene challenges
become so minimal. We’re
proud of so many things but
the thing we’re proud of the
most is the social impact
on the community and the
support of them as well.
After all Sunfest is known as
the most beautiful of all our
festivals.
TD Sunfest ‘16 is a free
admission world music festival,
July 7-10 in Victoria Park,
London ON
www.sunfest.on.ca
06.23.16
Bowling 105
Tucked away between the neat community houses in Old South is a
green haven where Londoners gather for lawn bowling, The Elmwood
Lawn Bowling Club has been a neighbourhood fixture for 105 years
and continues to provide a place for its 85 regular members to enjoy
recreational activity and pleasant company. New members of all ages
are always welcome and the first day is free to try the game and enjoy
the relaxed and friendly atmosphere. More than just living history,
the Elmwood Lawn Bowling Club continues to be a part of the unique
experience of Old South.
Top Left Melanie Alexander and Nancy Shaw are two
of the Elmwood Lawn Bowling Club’s newest members
having joined just three weeks ago.
Top Right Patricia McLeod measures to determine
which is the winning bowl.
Left Bob Jenkinson, membership coordinator and
skip, bowls during an evening jitney.
06.23.16
Above Katy Yoshida, 91, an
eight-year member of the
Elmwood Lawn Bowling Club in
Old South, bowls during the first
end of the evening jitney.
Left Members of the Club
remove their bowls from their
cases in preperation for the
Monday night jitney.
Forest City Folk is an
ongoing documentary of
contemporary life in
London, Ontario by London
photojournalist Menno Meijer
06.23.16
y od el l i ng i n t h e c a n y o n
POP ROYALTY
Stelton Hercules Ron returning to London
by
Barry Wells
Sir
Stelton Hercules Ron,
69, Commander of the
Order of the British Empire,
is one of the world’s most
popular pianists, singer-songwriters and prolific composers.
He’s recently released his 33rd
studio album of original songs,
Wonderful Crazy Night, written
and composed with his songwriting sidekick of nearly halfa-century, Bernie Taupin.
In his five-decade-long
career, Stelton has sold 300
million records worldwide,
putting him in the same
superstar stratosphere as
London, Ontario’s own golden
boy, Guy Lombardo (19021977). Currently on tour with
his band, Stelton is returning
to Budweiser Gardens for the
third time since Nov. 2006, on
Thurs. Sept. 29 at 8 pm.
What follows is an editedfor-space transcript of the
exclusive telephone interview
I scored with Stelton immediately after the kick-off concert
for the final leg of his 2016 tour
in Liverpool, England on June
14th.
I should add I was first
introduced to Stelton Ron by
Mr. Showbiz himself, Sonny
Drysdale, in Los Angeles, when
Stelton gave his inaugural
North American concert on
August 25, 1970 at the Troubadour nightclub at 9081 Santa
06.23.16
Monica Boulevard in West
Hollywood. Our mutual love
for Canadian beer, ballroom
dancing, basket-weaving and
baseball (one of Stelton’s six
palatial homes is in Atlanta,
Georgia where he became a fan
of the Atlanta Braves baseball
club) has resulted in our ongoing friendship during the past
46 years.
Barry Wells: Stelton, you ol’ sack
of lumpy potatoes! How you doing,
mate?
Stelton Ron: Busier than a onearmed paper-hanger. We’ve
just embarked on a 64-concert, 20-country tour starting
here in Liverpool. Fantastic
sold-out show, by the way. It’s
always a humbling experience
to perform in a city that gave
the world John Lennon and the
Beatles. We don’t wrap up the
tour until next February in Vegas. Fortunately, we take a bit
of a breather from travelling by
doing 10 shows in Vegas at The
Colosseum at Caesars Palace
in October and then finish the
tour at The Colosseum with another nine shows in February.
From Liverpool, my next show
is in Poland on the 18th of June,
so we hop around Europe like
spring-loaded bunny rabbits
before landing in Savannah,
Georgia in September. Our only
Canadian show is in London,
Ontario.
BW: Yeah, what’s that all about? Why
London? Is it the fresh buns and
bread sold across the street from
Budweiser Gardens at the market?
Or the new Toboggan craft beer they
flog on Richmond Row next to Joe
Kool’s?
SR: Buns, bread and beer?
Sounds like a song I should
have recorded in the ‘70s. After
the show in your London, we’ve
got five days off before we fly
to Baton Rouge on October
5th. As you know, David [his
Canadian-born partner-inmarriage, David Furnish, 53]
hails from Toronto so we’ll
likely visit his parents as well
as his two brothers in Toronto.
David graduated from UWO
in ‘85 so we’d like to spend a
day in London seeing some of
his old haunts when he was a
lovelorn frat boy. Then maybe
some theatre at the local opera
house. We’ll be staying at the
Delta Armouries so why don’t
you and Sonny stop by in the
early afternoon? I tell everyone
I’m on the wagon but bring us
a few ice-cold growlers of that
new Toboggan beer. No BC Bud
this time around because I get
the munchies and I’m trying to
shed a few pounds.
BW: What’s the scoop with your new
CD, Wonderful Crazy Night?
SR: We recorded 14 tracks in 17
days at The Village recording
studios in Los Angeles. I like
to work fast and everyone on
board knows the routine. It’s
an upbeat rock ‘n’ roll CD coproduced by T-Bone Burnett
with Davey Johnstone on
guitar, Nigel Olsson on drums,
Kim Bullard on keys, Matt
Bissonette on bass and John
Mahon on percussion and backing vocals. You get 10 tracks on
the regular CD but 14 on the
deluxe CD. It’s a 1970s kind of
album which has been received
very well. At my age, it’s all I
can hope for.
BW: Did you ever resolve that nasty
feud with Keith Richards?
SR: When you’re as wealthy as
Keith and me, it’s easy to get
over such nonsense. Frankly, I
think Keith’s jealousy started
the whole thing. Keith even
ridiculed Mick when Mick was
knighted in 2003 by the Prince
of Wales and he wasn’t. Maybe
if Keith laid off the vodka for a
few months he’d start acting
his age.
BW: You get the last word, amigo.
Anything in particular on your mind?
SR: In recent months I’ve been
working on a project for my
AIDS Foundation called ‘Love
and Bravery’ with Lady Gaga
and it’s about having the love
to accept everyone for who
they are. Especially people who
are different from you and the
bravery to show it. When a horror like this Orlando massacre
occurs, grief and agony crashes
across the world like a tsunami.
We feel shocked and devastated
inside for the victims and the
loved ones mourning them. Immediately behind that devastation came a different wave. A
rainbow-coloured wave of love.
The rainbow around the world
says we will eventually win
against people who are refusing to accept people for who
p
they are.
t he p ur s ui t o f h a p p i n e s s
Hangin’ with the ‘70s Inn Crowd
by Jeffrey Schiller
In
a past life I spent many
hours on the road. I travelled excessively across Ontario
and spent many a weary night in
hotels, motels and Inns. Like any
other traveller I quickly learned
that in most cases these establishments were a great place to
catch some much needed sleep,
check in with the family and
enjoy a hot shower after way
too many hours on the road.
They all boasted comfortable
beds, welcoming staff and great
food but as Meat Loaf likes to
say: “Two outta three aint bad”.
The restaurants proved time
and again to be over-priced, not
so friendly and the food? Well,
what can I say? There’s a reason
I have never written about any
of them. Basically they don’t
make me happy!
That is with a few notable
exceptions. So when I was recently asked for my thoughts on
dining out at any of the “hotel”
lobby restaurants around the
area, I did not hesitate. Then
again, I very seldom ever hesitate when asked my thoughts.
Just down “the 401”, as we locals
like to say, is the “Inn” that
proves without any doubt that
you can get a great night’s sleep
and enjoy an amazing meal all
at the same spot. The Elm Hurst
Inn & Spa is located just off the
highway and according to the
website, is “the perfect home
away from home for visitors
wishing to explore the natural
beauty, history, and culture of
Southwestern Ontario”.
Now I am not a marketing
specialist and advertising is not
my forte and although this is
a very accurate statement, for
me it’s all about the food. Don’t
get me wrong, the rooms are
comfortable, clean, and I always
get a great night’s sleep when
we stay over but what separates
the Elm Hurst from most Inns
are two things; the people and
Chef Michael Davies at the Elm Hurst Inn runs a dining
room worthy of this glorious structure and locale
the food. I have always believed
that you can immediately tell a
lot about a business by the first
employees you meet when you
first enter. Upon walking into
this magnificent old mansion
you are greeted by folks that are
obviously happy. There is a sort
of pleasant, happy feeling in the
air that makes you want to say
‘hello’ to just about everyone you
see. Don’t worry if you forget
because they all say hello to you!
So we have established
some obvious facts. Someone at
the Elm Hurst knows how to run
an Inn. Great rooms, friendly
staff, etc. Let’s cut to the chase
or better yet, let’s cut to the
dining room. Executive Chef Michael Davies has been the Chef
at The Elm Hurst since 1996. I
have had the honour of meeting
Chef Michael and the first thing I
noticed was his love of food and
the hustle in his step. He moves
at an amazing speed but somehow no detail is too small for his
trained eye. It’s not uncommon
to see Chef Michael serving food
at the famous seafood buffet
or talking to the many regulars
that know him well.
The character of the building, the incredible serving staff
and the overall feeling set you
up for an amazing meal and the
food seals the deal. Serving appetizers like, Venison Tenderloin
“Carpaccio”, Crisp Lamb & Asian
Vegetable Wontons, and Seared
Diver Scallops & Foie Gras tells
me right away that someone
loves food and likes to push
things a bit. Prefer a salad? How
about “Duck Leg Confit, Frisee
& Arugula Lettuce” instead of
the usual? Why not? You can get
salad anywhere but add some
duck confit and hey, welcome to
Chef Michael’s world.
The Elm Hurst provides
some great individual experiences – dining, the Spa, the Inn.
On their own they’re all worth
the drive but to really get the
full Monty, combine them and
forget about the kids, the job
and your boss for a while. Trust
me they will all still be there
tomorrow. I enjoy a great drive
and I am always ready for a
great road trip. This one is a no
brainer. Sometimes, well, most
of the time, my pursuit if happiness is successful. This time was
no different. Just down the 401,
there is a great Inn serving up
some amazing food, so to quote
once again from my favourite
‘70s band: “Baby we can talk all
night / But that ain’t gettin us
nowhere / I told you everything
I possibly can.”
What are you waiting for? If
you go, book the seafood buffet
at the end of the month, order
a bottle of wine, relax and get a
room!
Elm Hurst Inn & Spa
Conveniently located just off Hwy 401
at Exit 218 (Harris Street)
415 Harris Street, Ingersoll ON
1.800.561.5321 / 519.485.5321
06.23.16
a l l t ha t I survey
THE POT PIE
There are lots of back doors and
secret passages in the fun house
that is the pot world. Yes, it’s illegal.
But it’s not equally illegal
for everyone.
by Joseph
An
06.23.16
Couture
old friend of mine is kind of a
medical marijuana fanatic, and
I sat down with him and his friend the
other day so he could try to recruit me
into his cult. But what I took away from
the conversation was something different. My friend is a great grandfather with
cancer and a true believer in the miracle
powers of marijuana to cure what ails
you. Me, I’m not so sure. He tried to
persuade me to read the medical literature on the subject. But a Google search
told me not to go down that rabbit hole.
You can find a study to support whatever
side of whatever argument you want to
make. The truth is, I really don’t care. I’m
more interested in Modern Politics than
Modern Medicine and so what really
intrigued me was the stories he told me
about the dark underbelly of the hazy
pot world.
Justin Trudeau has promised to
legalize and regulate marijuana, and he’s
taking his time about it. Right here right
now it remains a crime to sell or possess
marijuana without a medical certificate
to let you smoke it, or maybe grow it if
you’re lucky. And the cops have been
coming down heavy on the marijuana
shops that are popping up like weeds.
These busts are smoke and mirrors.
There are lots of back doors and secret
passages in the fun house that is the pot
world. Yes, it’s illegal. But it’s not equally
illegal for everyone.
The Supreme Court has ruled that
medical users have a right to grow their
own pot. But only if you are grandfathered under the previous regulation
scheme that allowed you to grow a
small amount for your own use. No new
licenses are being issued and it remains
an indictable offense for most people
to grow their own, even with a medical
certificate, which creates a two-tiered
system of crime and punishment.
Maybe it would be more accurate to
say three-tiered system because some
people are flouting the laws and getting
away with it. It’s the why of that fact that
intrigues me. Here in London there is
a sketchy dude who runs a pot dispensary allegedly for people with a medical
license that allows them to use it. He’s
been operating for years. But from what I
hear, he’s acting like the “rules” are, well,
flexible. Pretty much anyone who says
they have a medical “need” is good to go,
certificate or no certificate, which is just
about everyone with the common sense
to say they have a headache.
By all appearances he’s raking in
the dough. My other guest tells me not
to delve too deep into his affairs because
I might end up with a couple of broken
legs, but she suggests he’s really a generous philanthropist who gives to many
worthy causes that buy him much goodwill. She’s also worked at a head shop
here in town and says if you know the secret handshake, they sell more than just
bongs. You can get seeds, books and even
dope as long as you don’t look like a cop,
which apparently I do because none of
these head shops would sell me a damn
thing other than over-priced glass bongs.
I’m thinking I need a new look because
I seem to be getting this cop thing a lot
and it’s really wrecking my groove.
The local constabulary can’t be that
dumb. They must know this is going on.
Shady dude even has a website where he
advertises his selection of fine smokables. The question on my mind is why
some people can get away with this and
others end up with mandatory minimum
sentences. What’s the deal here?
When I asked my friend why it was
taking so long for Trudeau to come out
with the new legislation, he said it’s all
about the business end of things. The
government wants to funnel everyone
through approved suppliers licensed by
Health Canada. In other words, government pushers. He said the holdup is
that they aren’t all up to full production
capacity and it’s slowing things down.
He also says the government continues to fight against people being able
to grow their own because that would
cut into their profits. It has nothing to do
with anything but the dollar bills. But my
friend doesn’t want to deal with government dealers because of their production
methods. The Health Canada website
currently lists seven different types of
pesticide that official growers are permitted to use. He has cancer and says the last
thing he wants is to be forced to consume
unknown chemicals that we’ll shortly
discover cause – you guessed it – cancer.
I can’t say if pot cures anything. All
I know is it makes me paranoid and fat
because I think the cops are going to
kick in my door any second and catch me
watching porn with a bag of Doritos. And
I know that the politics of pot regulation isn’t as simple as the fact that Justin
Trudeau is a cool guy. There’s money at
stake here. Lots of it. Some people have
already got their slice of the pie – someway, somehow – and everyone else is
moving into position to gobble up the
p
rest.
ha n g o ve r h e l p e r
Fear of Shopping
by Shane
W
Delear
hen one is in the business of hangovers,
conversations with friends
sometimes turn into a bit
of a competition. People
want to earn that gold star,
to have had THE WORST
HANGOVER OF ALL TIME.
It’s human and admirable in
a way – these are the people
that teach your kids math
and fix your brakes, serve
you your coffee (with the
cup rattling away on its saucer) – isn’t it a comfort that
in everything they do they
strive to be the best?
I’ve heard some doozeys.
One hurled biscuits out the
window of her parents’ car
while being chauffered to
Toronto. Another, out of
exhaustion and a bit of empathy, held an inconsolable
baby and just wept along
with it. People sleepwalking through weddings,
My recurring waking nightmare involves going to the grocery store
others cleaning all manner of messes. All sorts of
terrifying and interminable
workdays: Surprise evaluations! Slow days with
only you and your boss
in the store! Unexpected
tour buses showing up to
brunch!
Thank god I’m not in
my early 20s anymore (or
late 20s or early 30s for
that matter). I generally
have the self control to not
inflict that kind of nonsense on myself. I prefer
to think that I no longer
have the patience to grin
and bear a soul-sucking
every-minute-is-five-yearslong hangover rather than
that my constitution can’t
take the same lumps that
it used to. I like to imagine
when I’m on the receiving
end of some retail hell that
the drone attending to me
is really a lovely person
that has been driven to
drink by how much their
spirit is being stifled. Of
course, they just might not
have the proper Confucian
everything-has-its-placein-the-order-of-things
mindset to help me right the
injustice of my cable modem’s connectivity issues.
My recurring waking
nightmare involves going
to the grocery store. Somehow your malaise affects
your perception of everything else. It’s almost hostile how bright it is. Making
eye contact with people
– feeling like they feel that
you’re some sort of buffoon. Somehow having that
one other shopper who arrived in sync with you that
you’re always getting in
the way of or who’s always
in your way AND THEN
BECOMES YOUR ENEMY
(cast your judgement into
their cart; smug jerk, name
brand frozen peas!?!?). The
psychic assault of all those
headlines at the checkout
– is that how people live
and is the inference that
I should be as petty and
foul? The small talk with
your cashier – it’s worse
than at a haircut. Running
into a neighbour or someone whose birthday you
just snubbed on facebook
or even worse running
into a friend who can see
the shame of your comfort
food and think that it’s how
you normally live. Just a
tire fire of a way to spend
your morning.
Anyhow, though my
feeling is that every case
of the vapours is unique
and special, I’d like to outsource that decision to my
beautiful readers. Please
send a quick recap of your
particular doozey to:
worsthangoverofalltime@
gmail.com (by Tuesday, June
28th) – I’ll choose a few and
put them in next issue for
your enjoyment and judgment. Awesome prize TBA.
Photo courtesy Fred Meyer
06.23.16
l o ok a t t hi s
Visions of the
Mind’s Eye
by
Nida Home Doherty
The
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06.23.16
mechanics of vision and how
the eyes send messages to the
brain about the world around us are
absolutely essential to being an artist, one might think. Certainly, for the
representational artist, being able to
discern depth, colour, tone, and object to
ground dimensionality loops back into
the mechanics of painting in replicating
the object world the artist sees.
But in the significant exhibition of
paintings by Erica Dornbusch, currently
displayed at the Westland Gallery, these
fundamental aspects of art-making are
shown not only to limit the definition of
art-making, but, in turn, result in a limited understanding of our relationship to
the world we live in.
A degenerative pathology of vision
and a gradual loss of sight has forced
Dornbusch to reorient herself to working as an artist. As her work embraces
her loss of vision and growing sense
of isolation, she has turned inward for
inspiration. In exploring the inner self
and through the interconnected elements
of memory and light, she finds a sense of
power, solace, and strength in her womanhood. The result is a richer approach to
painting and, in turn, an elevated sense of
beingness.
The female form dominates the exhi-
Erica Dornbusch: Walking Each Other Home, acrylic on canvas, 24”x 30”
bition. Accentuated by a narrow rectangular format, Dornbusch’s female figures
are nearly always elongated, ephemeral
looking, and full of elegance and grace,
as they appear as if emerging and/or
floating in a dream-like presence. In the
painting Brings the Dawn, a female form
floats above the ground, seemingly having
emerged from it. The ground and flowers
flow into her attire and the strong silhouette of a faceless woman stands against a
darkened sky that grades into lightness
as it reaches the horizon. In Jane’s Insight
a pure white elongated form, fitted with
a lacy, long flowing robe that sculpts over
her uplifted head, floats purposefully
against a dark blue background, amongst
white-speck images of stars. In Well of
Being the female form floats above a flattened pattern of abstract water and images of fish, and her gown is only slightly
distinguishable from the water/ground
from which she appears to emerge.
As Dornbusch channels her visions
of inner self and her undeniable spiritual
connectedness into her paintings, she,
in turn, connects with eternal images of
the female found in ancient myths and
religious stories of goddesses, angels,
and guiding spirits who hold exalted
positions and are aligned with the movement and powers of the cosmos. In The
Moon and Tides, a woman in a strong
linear pose holds a large wooden bowl,
and with eyes shut she gives over and
trusts in the higher powers that exist in
the world as they pass through her. The
sacred bowl that she carries contains a
crescent moon, and the water that pours
from it splashes back over her, adorning
her female form with white, lacy, sensual
patterns. In Washer Woman, the Moon
and Sorrows, a large bowl tilted forwards
reflects the sky above as it precariously
sits on the lap of a noble female form.
In one hand the woman holds a black
stone, while with the other hand
she washes it. She appears as
performing her duty, her calling
in the world, the impossible task
of cleansing away the darkness
in the universe.
In other paintings, through
personal memory and a reorientation to the light source for
As Dornbusch channels
her visions of inner
self and spiritual
connectedness into her
paintings, she, in turn,
connects with eternal
images of the female
found in ancient myths
and religious stories
painting, Dornbusch blurs the
boundaries between time and
space, and transgressing beings
become a primary element of
her art making. In The Journey,
four isolated female forms walk
in a dirge-like line blending
in and at the same time contrasting with blurred images
of a rural landscape. Although
the forms are quite similar to
each other, their differences
are more discernible with each
being rendered in distinctive
layers of hues and colours as
they appear to pass through
the four seasons, or possibly
the four stages of life. In I went
into the woods, And came upon
Moon already walking there,
just slightly visible amongst
a group of stark yet animated
tree forms and the brightly coloured, patterned forest floor, a
ghostly white figure of an elder
woman appears. Her presence
blesses the silence and beauty
of the forest, which, in turn,
holds her peaceful reflective
presence.
The two strongest paintings in the exhibition, it might
be argued, are Let Us Not
Hurry Walking Home, and Full
Moon Guardians. Let Us Not
Hurry Walking Home captures
a mystical moment — that of
early dawn when the sun first
impacts on the earth and gives
it shape and definition. While
standing facing the rising sun
and appearing in awe of its
power, the self and the forest
trees are engulfed in a oneness
with nature as they blend into
elongated shadows and areas of
abstraction. The self, in that mo-
ment, becomes inverted, changing from a diminished sense of
self in a hurried unconscious
walking, to the source and
power of reflected light. In Full
Moon Guardians, the sun has
just sunk below the horizon and
bovine forms take on a spiritual
presence that emanates out to
the human form in their midst,
sending a strong message of
protection through spiritual
abundance.
Dornbusch writes in her
artist statement, “None of us has
the same perspective, for no human eye will ever see the same.
And we do not see the truth of
things as they are, rather as we
ourselves are.” However, we
can be awakened to alternative
perspectives, and in her ReVision exhibition Dornbusch helps
loosen our engrained ties to the
object world and through a different orientation to vision, she
invites us to broaden our sense
of beingness.
Erica Dornbusch: ReVision
continues to July 9, 2016
Westland Gallery
156 Wortley Road, London, ON
519-601-4420
http://www.westlandgallery.ca/
06.23.16
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06.23.16
Advice
by
Uncle Bruce
SUBMIT YOUR QUESTIONS TO
[email protected]
Dear Uncle Bruce – What did London ever do to deserve four mayors in
a row who’ve perpetrated major scandals?
— It’s Getting Embarrassing to Live Here
Dear It’s Getting Embarrassing to Live Here – I see you’re taking your cues
from The London Free Press which last week helpfully published their threepoint roll call of previous mayoral miscreants who supposedly brought
scandal upon our city. Two of those chief magistrates, I believe, were not
themselves guilty of any such thing. You might be able to charge Anne Marie
DeCicco-Best (and a fair percentage of the world’s population, for that
matter) with not marrying very well, but it was not her who drove while
drunk, injured another party in a collision and then fled the scene of the
crash.
Dianne Haskett I consider more blameless yet. When she came into
office, mayoral proclamations were understood to be granted at the sole
discretion of the mayor and she early on let it be known that she would not
be issuing proclamations dealing with either side of the abortion question,
anything having to do with sexuality or sexual orientation, or issues which
might stir up controversy, promote illegal activity or incite hatred toward
any group. That she was fined for discrimination for refusing to proclaim Gay
Pride weekend by a stilted Star Chamber of the Ontario Human Rights Commission in a judgement that contravened her constitutional rights to freedom
of conscience, speech and religion, was not something that I – nor a two-toone majority of Londoners who re-elected her to office in the wake of that
judgement – considered scandalous.
But Smokin’ Joe and Matt Brown – those are bona fide scandals. It’s grimly fascinating how it’s all played out. After four years of mortifying governance
at the hands of that glad-handing, motor-mouthing, taxpayer-defrauding
bundle of appetites called Joe Fontana, Londoners thought they were electing
the anti-Fontana with the almost robotically circumspect Matt Brown. As a
politician he seemed to be a good hard worker. If he came off a little bland as
a personality – a man with no visible quirks or appetites – well, considering
what we’d just been through, that seemed to bode well for a mayoral term or
two without chaotic eruptions.
And then – Blooey! This mess lands in all of our laps and we can’t help
wondering why we’re all being made a party to it. Surely, marital infidelities
have been committed by top level London politicians before without every
citizen being made aware of all the gruesome details. Part of the answer is
that discretion is harder to maintain in this era of what we euphemistically
call ‘social media’ (I regard its primary impact as destructive to society). But
the larger part of the answer, I’m afraid, is the colossal failure of character,
judgement, imagination and caution exercised by the two highest ranking
politicians in town when they decided to have their way with one another.
They’ve both got spouses and children they were willing to betray and humiliate, they both have to work together under an elevated level of public scrutiny . . . what weren’t they thinking to believe for a second that their naughty
little tryst was containable? On some probably unconscious level, it almost
looks to me like an act of occupational hari-kari. A self-sabotaging cry for help
to win their release from a job that is, simultaneously, so impossibly demanding and so mind-rottingly boring that they’ll do anything to break free from it.
– Sincerely, Uncle Bruce
06.23.16
t hea tre space
Returning to The Weir
Conor McPherson has
been hailed as the next
great Irish playwright
following in the line of
Oscar Wilde, George
Bernard Shaw, Sean
O’Casey and Brian Friel.
by
Adam Corrigan Holowitz
W
06.23.16
hen Conor McPherson’s
1997 drama The Weir was
first performed in London
Ontario, back in 2001, the production was such a hit that there were
fistfights in the lobby for tickets.
If folks had only known that they
would simply have to wait 15 years
for that production’s director, Don
Fleckser, to direct the play again,
perhaps some knuckles would have
been spared.
It was partly the popularity of
the first production that made Fleckser want to revisit the play. So when
By the Book Theatre artistic director Mark Killeen and Don Fleckser
discussed possible plays for Fleckser
to direct for the company, The Weir
bubbled up to the top of their list.
Killeen’s rule when choosing plays is
that the script must be so gripping
that he has no choice but to read the
play in one sitting. The Weir grabbed
him immediately with its spine tingling ghost story narrative. Fleckser
adds that The Weir is widely considered to be a modern masterpiece.
Conor McPherson has been hailed
as the next great Irish playwright,
following in the line of Wilde, Shaw,
Sean O’Casey and Brian Friel.
Along with presenting a lauded
play, Mark Killeen also found the
prospect of having Don Fleckser
direct for the company to be highly
appealing. Fleckser’s work as a
director in this city is prolific and his
work has touched almost everyone
in the London theatre. Killeen has
found while watching Fleckser direct
that, “Don has an artful way communicating with the cast. He accents
the positive.” There is a “harmony”
to his style.
The Weir takes place in a small
pub in rural Ireland. Four local guys
Mark Killeen’s rule when
choosing plays to produce
is that the script must be
so gripping that he has no
choice but to read the play
in one sitting
meet up with a woman, Valerie,
who is new to the area. She has just
arrived from Dublin. Three of the
men each tell a ghost story, with the
intent of trying to scare the newcomer. It is classic pub storytelling
– each man trying to outdo the last.
However Valerie tells a fourth ghost
story that is all too real and disturbs
the others.
Don Fleckser says that in directing the play this time around he has
a better understanding of the notion
of ghosts. “I believe there are ghosts”
he says. “As children we believe in
ghosts” but that belief is weaned
out of adults. Fleckser notes that
the ghost stories the characters tell
centre around either fairies or children. These are the menacing fairies
of Irish mythology. Fleckser believes
ghost stories that involve children are
scarier because we care more about
what happens to children. The stories
become more vivid for us.
The Weir, and much of Conor
McPherson’s work, is about the
power of stories. This play is essentially five stories told in a pub and
yet these stories greatly affect the
characters. McPherson is saying that
stories are powerful tools, not just
sources of entertainment. Storytelling
plays such a huge part in Irish culture
and so it should be no surprise that
Irish playwrights often include vivid
storytelling in their plays.
The vivid storytelling has captivated the cast of this production. As
they talk, a common thread running
through their comments is that the
play has a strong power to trap both
actors and audience under the spell
of its stories. Sarah Abbott who plays
Valarie in the production says, “It
brings you along – you can’t escape
and you are forced to experience
what is happening.” John Reid who
plays Rick, the leader of the guys, echoes Abbott’s comments, saying that
the intimate venue makes you feel
that there is no escape. Reid also finds
a personal connection to the writing.
“There is an intricacy to the writing. I find I am hearing the voices of
aunts and uncles from my Irish/Scot
heritage” in the character’s speech
patterns.
Andre Cormier, who plays the bar
owner, Brendan, says, “The play deliberately misleads you. You get a false
sense of security. You realize that you
are not here for the play you thought
you were seeing.” Mark Killeen notes
that there are some thematic parallels
with the other plays he has produced,
notably with his past production of
Of Mice and Men and his upcoming
production of A Streetcar Named Desire. In both these plays and The Weir
there are questions raised about why
these certain people stick together,
even though they bring pain to one
another. Why do Lenny and George
stay together? Why does Stella live
with the abusive Stanley? It comes
down to the fact that these characters,
in all three of these plays, are trying
to survive loneliness.
Killeen has also noticed a detail
in The Weir that has until now not
been overly examined. McPherson
premiered the play in 1997, a year after divorce became legal in in Ireland.
This is significant because the sole
Directing The Weir this
time around, Don Fleckser
has a better understanding
of the notion of ghosts
female character in the play, Valerie,
has a marriage which has just ended.
McPherson is examining a hot button
topic of that time.
I was honoured to be invited to
see a run-through of the play three
weeks before opening. I intended to
stay for a bit after I had finished the
interviews, however I was quickly
captivated and before I knew it, I had
watched the whole play. Based on my
experience, I can say that this is going
to be a gripping night of theatre.
The Weir by Conor McPherson
Directed by Don Fleckser
Featuring:
John Reid, Sarah Abbott, Stephen Flindall,
Dan Curtis and Andre Cormier
July 6 to 10 and 12 to 16
Performances each night at 8 pm
Procunier Hall at the Palace Theatre
710 Dundas St., London ON
Tickets: $23.00
Box Office: 519-432-1029
06.23.16
ri pl a sh
A Free Master Acting Class
from a Freshly Retired Actor
T
Rip
hat’s right. I’m hanging up my tights. I’m
giving up my greasepaint. Just like there can
be a natural transition
from athlete to coach, I
have gradually segued
from being an onstage
performer to being a
writer/director. My stage
fright and my ability to
retain lines have gotten
worse over the years to
the point that the dread
before the rising of the
curtain has become a
massive, unconquerable
monster.
I am grateful that I
have played so many great
parts in my time: Beckett,
Shakespeare, Mamet – at
one point I played Macbeth
and Miss Wisconsin back
to back. I did a 90-minute
one person show that
almost killed me. I played
Fatty Arbuckle and Oscar
Wilde. I am committed to
finishing my current 100show run of Badger Bites
Bear!, a solo play I do in
non-traditional locations
in benefit of the Unity
Project on Homelessness.
This play involves actual
06.23.16
story books and a large
measure of improvised
theatrical jazz that allow
me to compensate for my
Swiss cheese memory.
I do not grieve. Just
actors. There are reliable
local performers who
can turn in an adequate
performance every single
time, but absolute transcendence is rare. Ironi-
Photo: Roxanne Lutz
by Jason
Just like an athlete succumbs to a
career-ending injury, there comes a
day when your time in the sun is done
like an athlete succumbs
to a career-ending injury,
there comes a day when
your time in the sun is
done. In my early twenties, long before I became
a theatre artist, I achieved
some success as a standup comic. Then one day
I stopped doing it and I
never did it again. Before
that I was a published
poet. I haven’t written a
poem in twenty-five years.
Sometimes the best types
of doors are the ones that
stay shut.
I often make the claim
that London does not
have a wealth of excellent
cally, some of the best actors ration their talent to
the point that they hardly
ever appear onstage or,
even worse, acquire the
reputation of being difficult to work with.
I do not claim that I
was ever a transcendent
actor but I do know that
I tried to get as far away
from myself as possible. I
was not enamoured of the
safe choice. Since I sit on
the sidelines now, I may
perhaps be permitted to
offer a few bits of advice
to the players still sweating and grunting on the
field.
THE CHAMELEON IS
THE IDEAL
The best actors are the
types that can take off their
own identities, throw them in
a corner for two hours, and
become someone totally different. This involves process
and pre-show warm-up. I have
heard it said many times that
the audience will remember the character’s voice
long after they’ve forgotten
everything else. If you’re
always playing versions of
yourself, one has to question if you’re really acting.
When it comes to casting and
accepting roles, try to get as
far away from your own life
history as possible. I think it’s
perfectly valid to turn down a
part because it is something
you have already thoroughly
worked into your repertoire.
WHEN YOU’RE A
SUPPORTING ACTOR,
SUPPORT
It’s hard to be the lead.
Think of poor Alice In Wonderland with every other character more interesting than
her. It’s often easy to steal the
show if you’re a supporting
actor, but, in that case, who
exactly are you supporting?
The best ensembles are not
composed of people competing for the audience’s attention but are organic wholes
with all performances in
balance. Makes backstage
politics a lot easier too.
DON’T THINK, BE!
This is where it gets tricky.
A good actor has to pay close
attention to what is inside
the bubble of their mind at
every moment. The default
is to think of your next line
or your next bit of blocking.
This is a log-jam to your subconscious and an impediment
to your performance. Ideally,
you’re Hamlet on the Elsinore
ramparts and that’s a real
ghost. If you’re thinking of
what you’re going to be eating
after the show, you’re really
not doing it right. By the way,
if you’ve never been an actor,
something about it makes you
really hungry.
KNOW WHAT KIND
OF PLAY YOU’RE IN
is important, and if you’re not
into it, how can you expect
your audience to be into it?
DON’T SHED
CHARACTER UNTIL
CURTAIN CALL
When you’re backstage
and others are onstage, don’t
joke and smirk, don’t even
rest. Lurk in the shadows and
be an intense creep, just like
every other great actor. Think
your character’s thoughts
and don’t let reality seep in to
muddle your performance. Be
a creep, don’t let it seep!
TAKE IT SERIOUSLY
Ultimately this is the sign
of someone I want to work
with. Acting is very difficult. It
overlaps with what the average person lives in terror of:
being exposed in public. Let’s
face it: you have to be a little
weird to do it well, an angry
child who still craves and
demands attention.
I almost got to play Richard III this summer – that was
the last part I was looking to
play. I do not offer this article
as an iron-clad contract guaranteeing I will never grace
a local stage again, but, for
now, I crave the quiet of the
pasture and the rocking chair.
I may not be Kevin Spacey,
but I feel spacey enough
most of the time. Break legs
everyone!
p
One of Sir John Gielgud’s
primary pieces of acting
advice was “Know what kind
of play you’re in.” No need to
bring out The Method when
you’re playing a cucumber
in a Fruit of the Loom ad.
Some plays require a deep
analysis of a troubled psyche
and some require you to
run through doors in your
knickers. It’s good to experiment with as many types of
theatre as you can. I ended
up preferring darker material but I cut my teeth on
community theatre farces
like Run For Your Wife and
Flaming Idiots!
TRUST ENOUGH TO BOUNCE
I hope that I have become
more philosophical over the
years. One concept I apply
to both theatre and life is
“Bounce,” which is what I call
the exchange of energy in
a given environment. Some
days have Bounce and some
days do not. Some plays have
Bounce and some do not. It
helps if you like and trust the
people you are on stage with.
Admittedly a fairly nebulous
concept, a good play should
bounce along like a wellplayed piece of music. Energy
06.23.16
sounds r azor
by Sean Twist
T
wo angels stood side by
side alongside a golden path.
One turned to the other with a
smirk. “I think Enochian is my
favourite Duran Duran spin off band,”
Philippa said.
“Would you stop?” Saranel said, reflexively looking up the path towards the
hill. “Aren’t we in enough shit?”
“Oh, relax.” Philippa smiled. “And
you just swore.” She bugged out her eyes.
“What if the Captain heard? Ooooh! Then
we’d really be for it, wouldn’t we?”
“Let’s just get through this shift
without any more incidents,” Saranel
muttered.
“Fine, grouchyface.”
The two angels were silent for a
while, each lost in their own thoughts. In
the distance, song could be heard. A cool
breeze was blowing up from the gray
mist of Limbo down to their left. Philippa
lifted her arms to enjoy it while it lasted.
“How long do you think we’ll have to
do this?” Saranel asked.
“Until we don’t have to, I suppose.”
“That’s helpful.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know? I
didn’t think the Captain would take it so
personal.”
Saranel turned to her friend in exasperation. “How could he not? You did it
in front of the entire Legion!”
“He should have looked before he sat
down.”
“Right, because an archangel of
Heaven should be on constant vigilance
for a whoopee cushion on his throne.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have
06.23.16
laughed so loud. Maybe then you
wouldn’t be down here with me.”
Saranel’s eyes flashed lightning,
which arced out to flare against the
golden stones in front of them. Then her
eyes dimmed, and she smiled.
“The face he made.”
“Kinda worth it,” Philippa agreed.
“Someone’s coming,” Saranel said.
The two angels looked down towards Limbo. A black cat had wandered
out, looking around in confusion.
Philippa bent down. “Hey, baby,
come here.”
The cat looked up at her, startled.
Then it trotted towards her, tail raised
high. The angel took the cat up into her
arms.
“You’re fine, sweetheart,” Philippa
whispered quietly. “You’re home now.
Just head up the path. Everything’s going
to be okay, baby. You’re home now.”
Saranel leaned across to pat the cat’s
head. Philippa bent down and put the cat
back on the path. It gave the two angels
a look, blinked, then trotted up the path.
The two angels watched it until it disappeared into the mist that shrouded the
top of the hill.
“How did . . .” Saranel began, but
she shook her head. “No, I don’t want to
know.”
“No, you don’t.”
The Limbo posting wasn’t the worst
job you could get. It could be the most
draining, though, which is why no one
ever signed up for it. But sometimes
souls got lost on their way here. In many
cases, it was because they didn’t know
they had died. There could be various
reasons for this. Eventually, though, they
found their way to this path. Today –
Gustave Doré: The Angel and The Orphan,1872
Afternoon Shift
An archangel of Heaven should
be on constant vigilance for a
whoopee cushion on his throne
for however long today lasted – it was
Philippa and Saranel’s job to greet them,
and ensure they continued on home.
Time passed.
Bored, Philippa took the sword from
her back and began to polish it with her
robe. Saranel almost had the angelic
equivalent of a heart attack.
“Are you serious?”
“What? I think it’s getting tarnished.”
“It’s adamantium! It doesn’t tarnish.
Have you ever seen the Gates tarnish?
“Saranel rolled her eyes. “It’s like you’re
trying to get in trouble.”
“Well, I think it looks better.” She
puffed on the blade, wiped it again
with her sleeve, and slid it back into its
sheath.
Saranel sighed.
“Looks like a woman this time,”
Philippa said, looking towards Limbo.
She looked to be in her forties. Early
21st century dress – blouse, skirt, low
heels. She had a phone pressed to the
side of her face. She glanced over at the
angels.
Philippa waved.
The woman didn’t react. She glared
at her phone and began angrily pressing it in various places. She sighed in
exasperation and proceeded towards the
representatives of the heavenly host.
“The signal’s for shit here,” she
pointed out.
“Yeah, probably,” Philippa said.
She took in the two angels standing
before her. “What’s your deal? “
“Well, you know, just doing our
thing,” Philippa smiled.
“Yeah? How’s that working out for
you?” The woman was already looking
back at her phone.
“Not bad. Good benefits, but the
hours are murder.”
“I hear that.” The woman looked
around. “What is this place? What’s with
the Yellow Brick Road thing?”
She gave the angels another look,
like she hadn’t really noticed them before. “Is this a cosplay thing? Is this for a
promotion for something?”
“I don’t think we ever have to worry
about promotions,” Saranel muttered.
Philippa put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. Her final moments filled
the angel’s mind. It was Philippa’s gift/
curse, which is how things usually went.
At least it had been quick for the woman.
“Hey, easy there.” The woman
stepped back.
“Amy, you died three months ago,”
Philippa began. “You were hit by a truck
on a highway when your car crossed into
the opposite lane.”
“No, I wasn’t,” the woman said angrily. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”
Philippa debated about telling her
the role the phone played in her death.
Posting a picture of her breakfast at a
diner to Instagram, trying to come up
with a funny line. She had managed three
words before she looked up when her
bumper hit the median.
“Just head up the path, Amy. It’ll all
become clear,” she said instead.
“Now stop this, whoever you are. I
have a family and I . . .“ The woman had
begun to shout when Saranel drew her
sword. Blue flame raced along the blade.
The air began to thrum.
“GO NOW, CHILD,” she growled.
The woman looked horrified.
Saranel’s eyes flashed fire. The woman
turned and went.
“I hate those ones,” Saranel sighed as
the woman disappeared.
“Yeah, me too.”
Philippa took the sword from her
friend. She waved it around, the flame
drifting through the air.
“Ever see Star Wars?” she asked.
“Give that back,” Saranel laughed.
d ispa t ch e s f ro m d y s t o p i a
Now It’s Your Turn to
Suffer for my Art
by
Ciara Allen
All my life, I have been a poor communicator. I always felt I couldn’t get
anyone to notice I was struggling unless I acted out, and instead of true recognition
all I got was, “If I catch you stealing again you’re fired,” or “Please stop spitting on
me”. While this behaviour was immensely satisfying, I realised it was not productive. I required a less destructive outlet for my angst. So I turned to the Arts. As
humans, when we feel no one is listening we can create something in hopes that it
will reach the hearts and minds of our fellow man. I may not be much of a “feelings” gal, but like anyone I still desire to be understood. Not too well, though. Just
enough that I am still an enigma but not so little that a mob of locals chases me up
a clock tower. Anyway. My preferred medium for self-expression, clearly, is writing.
This column is one outlet for me, but I also privately dabble in poetry. The music of
words moves me, and then instead of chasing the mailman down the street in a ski
mask just so I can feel alive, I am able to be at peace with myself. For a time. To aid
in my personal progress, I have chosen to share with you some selections from my
collection of poems, entitled This Week’s Personal Crisis Will Be Served as a Canapé.
I begin with the titular poem:
Rough around the edges
Grainy throughout
Improved by tasty toppings
Human Melba toast
This next piece is called I Wonder if Any of My Old Therapists Think About Me?
Have you ever wanted to disappear into yourself?
No, burst out
Shed your skin
And become a screaming, bloody skeleton
Lay yourself bare
And be truly known
Take to the streets in your final magnificent form
Sending adults and children
Running in fear
As you hiss through your skeleton teeth
“Now do you see me?”
“Now do you care?”
“Now will you invite me to your fucking birthday party, Amanda?”
“Now will you return my texts, Greg?”
“I saw you at the bar on Thursday, prick, I know you read them.”
“What, now that I’m not your patient anymore you can’t talk to me? Classic Greg.”
Cackling as the world fades
And you return home
To the flames
And finally, two haikus. The first: I Should Have Had Dinner With That Wine:
Last night’s all a blur
Man, these aren’t even my socks
I’m too old for this
The second, Adult Goth Blues:
“Dude, I’m not stealing”
Stalked through Walmart again
“No, you’re a disgrace!”
You can look forward to reading much more like this if I ever get a serious response from a publisher. So far they’ve all been very unprofessional, accusing me
of pulling an elaborate prank or suggesting my work is “inaccessible and, frankly,
troubling”. But that’s just society today for you, isn’t it? Nobody appreciates art
anymore.
06.23.16
thur J U NE 23 rd – w e d J uly 6 th
Send us your listing (25 words ma x): [email protected] Deadline for JUly 7th issue is Wed JUNE the 29th
music
& c lu b s
23 June Thursday
CALL THE OFFICE Scott Brunelle/
Fisher King/ Nadsat / F**k-Power
8pm · $5 · 19+
LONDON MUSIC CLUB The 24th
Street Wailers wsg The Focklers
7:30pm · $10 adv · $15 door
LONDON MUSIC HALL Against Me
7pm · $27.50
24 June Friday
AEOLIAN HALL Local Folk
7pm · $10 adv · $12 door
CALL THE OFFICE Art Bergmann/
TV'D · 9pm · $10 adv · $12 door · 19+
EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL Bender · 9pm
LONDON MUSIC HALL Modern Space
10pm · $5
NORMA JEAN'S 2nd Chance · FREE
THE WORTLEY Journeymen of Soul · 10pm
YUK YUK'S Patrick Coppolino · 8pm ·
$19.92 · 19+
25 June Saturday
AEOLIAN HALL The Marrieds Album
Release Concert · 7pm · $20 adv · $25
CALL THE OFFICE Motown · 9pm · $5 · 19+
EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL Wednesdays
Engine · 9pm
LONDON MUSIC CLUB Roam wsg
Head & Tail · 8:30pm · $10 adv · $15
LONDON MUSIC HALL Shad · 8pm · $20
NORMA JEAN'S Tribute Night · $5
THE WORTLEY Journeymen of Soul · 10pm
YUK YUK'S Patrick Coppolino · 8pm ·
$19.92 · 19+
27 June Monday
LONDON MUSIC HALL Bury Your
Dead · 6pm · $17
29 June Wednesday
AEOLIAN HALL Girls Rock Documentary · 6:30pm · FREE
CALL THE OFFICE Limblifter / Ponyshow · 8pm · $15 · 19+
30 June Thursday
THE WORTLEY After Midnight · 9pm
01 July Friday
BUDWEISER GARDENS Trackside
Music Festival · 12pm · $100-189.50
CALL THE OFFICE Tiger Sex · 9pm
· $5 · 19+
EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL A Rebel
Few · 9pm
LONDON MUSIC HALL Chris Young/
Randy Houser · 12-11pm · $149-269
NORMA JEAN'S Creekside Strays ·
FREE
THE WORTLEY Chris Trowell · 10pm
02 July Saturday
BUDWEISER GARDENS Trackside
Music Festival · 12pm · $100-189.50
CALL THE OFFICE Skull Fist/ Midnight Towers/ Flidais · 9pm · $8 · 19+
EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL Ginge ·
9pm
LONDON MUSIC HALL Florida Georgia Line · 12-11pm · $149-269
THE WORTLEY Chris Trowell · 10pm
04 July Monday
LONDON MUSIC HALL Milky Chance
7pm · $32.50
05 July Tuesday
LONDON MUSIC HALL Conveyor &
Prophets · 7pm · $10
t h e at r e
BLYTH FESTIVAL
OUR BEAUTIFUL SONS:
REMEMBERING MATTHEW
DINNING The love of family, the search
for bravery, and the always complicated
paths to manhood, motherhood, and
peace. June 15 – Aug 6 / THE BIRDS
AND THE BEES Sarah, a turkey
farmer, has just left her husband and
moved back home with her mother
Gail. Nowadays, Gail raises bees. And
Earl is still a cash cropper. Gail rents
Earl her fields... but neither of them
can really stand each other. Sarah,
sick of feeling trapped in a loveless
marriage, and tired of spending
her days walking around artificially
inseminating turkeys, is back under
Gail's roof. Til Aug 6
INGERSOLL THEATRE
OF PERFORMING ARTS
Unger and Madison are at it again….
that is Florence Unger and Olive
Madison in Neil Simon’s hilarious
contemporary comic classic. Instead of
a poker party that begins the original
version Florence has invited the girls
over for an evening of Trivial Pursuit
and a little gossip. The original Pigeon
sisters have been replaced by the entertaining Constanzuela brothers…but
the mishaps and mayhem remain the
same. With this delightful romp,your
summer will start off with a bang. 2pm
& 7:30pm · $18 · June 23 – 26
PORT STANLEY
FESTIVAL THEATRE
THE LADIES FOURSOME Take four
ladies, 18 holes, a friendly wager, and
watch the sparks fly! Margot, Tate,
Connie and Dory spend a day on the
links to pay homage to a departed
friend. It sounds harmless enough, but
fueled by competition, revelations, and
recriminations, the outing becomes
more than anyone bargained for.
2pm & 8pm · $32.50 – 35.50 · Until
July 2 / BIRDS OF A FEATHER The
Bachman Warbler is extinct.....or is it?
Competitive bird watchers converge
on a quest for the rarest of birds, as
arch rivals clash in a battle of wits,
technology, and high stakes. Lessons
learned, lives revealed, and alaugh-filled
search for life's surprises...be careful
what you wish for! 2pm & 8pm · Matinee:
$32.50 · Evening: $35.50 · July 6 – 23
STRATFORD FESTIVAL
THEATRE A CHORUS LINE
On stage, they move as one. But each
member of that glittering line has a
unique history of hope and heartbreak,
revealed in the life stories they share
in this inspiring musical masterpiece.
2pm · $25 – 139.05 · Til Oct 30 /
SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE A young
playwright named Will Shakespeare
comes down with writer’s block –
until he finds a muse. Art mirrors life
in a hilarious and passionate tale of
romance and backstage fun. 2pm
& 8pm · $20 – 97.34 · Til Oct 16 /
MACBETH Surrender to a haunting
story of ambition and its dark
consequences, as a military hero and
his wife conspire to seize the throne
of Scotland. 2pm · 7:30pm · & 8pm ·
$20 – $139.05 · Til Oct 23 / AS YOU
LIKE IT Romance goes undercover
in this beloved comedy of surprises,
disguises and cross-dressing antics
– and you get to play too. 2pm &
8pm · $12.50 – 74.93 · Til Oct 22 / A
LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC On a magical
midsummer night, lovers old and new
are swept up in a dizzying whirl of
romance. 2pm & 8pm · $25 – 113.75
· Til Oct 23 / BREATH OF KINGS:
REBELLION Lust for power leads
to political turmoil in this fast-paced
new distillation of Shakespeare’s
epic histories of a nation and its
rulers – their lives, their battles and
their deaths. 2pm & 8pm · $35 –
100 · Until Sept 24 / BREATH OF
KINGS: REDEMPTION Can victory
abroad resolve crisis at home?
Henry IV and his charismatic son,
Henry V, are the major players in
this second of two new distillations
of Shakespeare’s great dramas
of kingship. 2pm & 8pm · $50 –
137.50 · Until Sept 24
VICTORIA PLAYHOUSE
PETROLIA DRIVING MISS
DAISY Daisy, who is reluctant to
accept help from anyone, especially
the new chauffeur hired by her son.
The two share humorous adventures
and develop a relationship that grows
from necessity to companionship.
2pm & 8pm · July 5 – 24
ga ller ies
& museums
THE ART EMPORIUM
Featured Junee Artists: Candy McManiman, David E. “Smokey” Dale, JuneeAnne Reid, Kathy MacKay, Pat Brown,
Shirley Milhlik Thompson, Tom Scanlan
and Wilf Chappell. Open 11-5 pm ·
Closed Tues · 177 Main St. Port Stanley
THE ARTS PROJECT
SUMMER ART FUNDRAISER an ongoing, changing exhibit and a great opportunity to view and purchase a selection
of unique pieces of art and sculpture
created and generously donated by
local artists. Proceeds generated go
towards supporting our mission as an
organization and the future development
of programs and exhibitions. Throughout
summer. / EXOCITA Original paintings
by Meg Howald. June 28 – July 2
DNA ARTSPACE
PRE-PAID PARADISE, THIN HORIZON
The hybrid quality of these works relates
to the ambiguity of memory and the
architectural history of a place. Til July
30
ELDON HOUSE
FAMILY PHOTOS: THE HARRISES
AT HOME Western Archives holds a
huge collection of historic photographs
attributed to the Harris family who lived
at Eldon House. This exhibit will allow
visitors an intimate view of the family,
their home and their gardens. Throughout 2016 / THE LOST ART OF BOBBIN
LACE Generations of women, such as
those in the Harris family of Eldon House
were “brought up to the pillow” creating
intricate pieces of handmade lace that
CARDINAL
BOOKS
e USED & RARE f
s po tl i ght
QUALITY BOOKS
MAPS & EPHEMERA
philip prins
Proprietor
VISIT US IN THE
OLD BIRR
SCHOOLHOUSE
Michael Farnan is a multidisciplinary artist and doctoral candidate at Western
University. Farnan’s thesis exhibition includes two major video installations, drawing
and sculptures exploring Canadian representational history and discourses about
colonialism, wilderness, nature and nationhood. His work employs humour, parody
and collaboration as tools for critical inquiry and reflection on how we think about
relationships to nature. June 3 to 25, 2016 at the McIntosh Gallery, Western University.
[email protected]
06.23.16
TUESDAY to FRIDAY 1 PM – 5 PM
SATURDAY 11 AM – 5 PM
[email protected]
23179 Richmond Street (HWY 4)
London, ON (Birr)
519-854-0006
were soon replaced with machinemade products at the end of the
Victorian era. As the first in a series on
“women’s work”, this exhibit explores
the rise and fall of an elaborate art
form and illustrates the complicated
process of creating bobbin lace. Til
July, Interpretive Centre / TEDDY:
A MILITARY GENTLEMAN The
exhibition is the second in a three-part
series that explores the life of Edward
Montgomery Harris. Beginning in
1900, after leaving school and joining
the Commonwealth Armed Forces, this
exhibition explores “Teddy’s” travels,
through Britain, India and Canada and
observes the life changes wrought
by the loss of his mother and his
marriage in the era leading up to the
outbreak of World War I. Second Floor,
Til July / THE FENIAN CONNECTION
An illustration of how the “Fenian
Raids” impacted those living in Upper
Canada, through the diaries and letters
of the Harris Family, while highlighting
their own involvement in the defence
of the empire. Til Sept
1st HUSSARS MUSEUM
1 Dundas St., Forks of the Thames. Sat
& holidays · 1-4 pm · 519-455-4533
FREE
FOREST CITY GALLERY
THE INTROVERTS Featuring Mélanie
Myers, Robert Taite, Dave Woodward,
Til July 29
FRINGE CUSTOM
FRAMING & GALLERY
SUMMER FLING An eclectic
collection of one of a kind original art
from over 20 regional artists. In the
gallery for display and sale Spring and
Summer 2016. Til June 26
LUCAN AREA
HERITAGE & DONNELLY
MUSEUM Open til Oct, $5,
Family (2 adults 2 children) $15, 171
Main St
MCINTOSH GALLERY
REPRESENTING WILDERNESS:
COMMUNITY, COLLABORATION
AND ARTISTIC PRACTICE featuring
Michael Farnan. Exploring Canadian representational history and
discourses surrounding colonialism,
wilderness, nature and nationhood.
Til June 25
MICHAEL GIBSON
GALLERY ROY HEENAN’S
CURNOE COLLECTION Rarely seen
works by Greg Curnoe and also feature
3 paintings by Charles Gagnon, both
from the collection of Mr. Roy L. Heenan. Til June 25 / CERTAIN OBJECTS
by Ufuk Gueray, July 1 – 30
MUSEUM OF ONTARIO
ARCHAEOLOGY
SOUTHWESTERN ONTARIO: 13 000
YEARS IN THE MAKING Explore
what life would have been like 13 000
years ago in Southwestern Ontario.
Take the journey from the end of the
ice age all the way through to contact
with the European settlers. Ongoing
exhibition / DECOLONIZING FRAMES
Questioning, critiquing, and celebrating
indigenous representation, Til Aug 29
MUSEUM LONDON
PLAY TIME This exhibition will take
visitors back to another time and
remind us about the messages toys
communicate. Til Aug 7 / A RIPPLE
EFFECT: CANADIANS AND FRESH
WATER A Ripple Effect examines the
larger story of Canadians’ relationship
with fresh water by focusing on the
Thames, Speed, and Eramosa rivers.
To Aug 14 / CHRONOLOGUES Issues
of memory and time, through personal
narratives and larger, shared histories.
Works in diverse media re-visualize
specific experiences or invite viewers
to construct their own associations. Til
Aug 21 / TOMORROW EVERYTHING
WILL BE ALRIGHT By Akram Zaatari.
Unearthing, collecting and re-contextualizing documents that represent his
country’s complex history. Til Sept 4
/ REMEMBER WHEN An exhibition
of souvenirs and mementos. Til Sept 11
MUSEUM STRATHROY
CARADOC
CHARLOTTE RAPLEY The new
Charlotte Rapley Gallery hosts a semipermanant local history exhibition detailing the history of Strathroy-Caradoc
and its communities. Mon – Fri: 10am
– 8:30pm · Sat: 10am – 4pm · Sun:
Closed · free · suggested $2 donation
for guided tours · 34 Frank Street,
Strathroy
PETER ROBSON STUDIOS Renowned
artist Peter Robson and custom framing centre. In the historic village of
Sparta. 7 days a week · 519-775-2522
[email protected]
peterrobsonstudios.com
ROYAL CANADIAN
REGIMENT MUSEUM
701 Oxford St. E. Enter the base off
Oxford at Elliot St. and turn right at
the stop sign. Tues–Fri: 10am–4pm /
Thurs to 8pm, Sat & Sun Noon–4pm,
closed Mondays and statutory holidays.
Free admission & parking. 519-6605275 ext. 5102
ST THOMAS ART
CENTRE NEW CANADIAN
CABINS Featuring Aidan Urquhart.
Doors have no handles and floors tilt
at odd angels. Wild colours clash
with architectural elements that might
seem functional but perhaps are just
to off kilter to meet building "code".
Til July 30
THIELSEN GALLERY
REVOLVING GROUP EXHIBITION
Featuring Tony Urquhart. Recent works
on paper. Also included are works by
Frank Caprani, Ron Milton, Toni Onley
and Gordon Smith. Til July 29
WESTLAND GALLERY
REVISION Featuring Erica Dornbusch.
Reception: June 24, 7:30pm, Artist
Talk: June 29, 7pm, Til July 9
WOODSTOCK ART
GALLERY JOANNE VEGSON EXPLORATION WITH STILL LIFE Closing
Reception: June 29, 5pm, Til July 2
special
events
EVERY MONDAY
MONDAY NIGHT PINBALL Everyone
is welcome at our weekly pinball tournament approved by the International
Flipper Pinball Association. 8 – 11pm
· No Cover · bring $ for pinball · Call
the Office
EVERY WEDNESDAY
EUCHRE Prizes · Everyone Welcome ·
1:15pm · 2755 Crumlin Rd. N. Royal
Canadian Air Force Association
FREEBALL Unlimited play on our wall
of pinball machines and classic arcade
vids. Guest DJs and drink specials
each week too! $5 · 9pm · 19+ Call the
Office
25 June Saturday
UFE SHOWDOWN Prejudging: 10am
Finals: 6pm · $25-70 · Centennial Hall
01 July Friday
CANADA DAY CELEBRATION Enjoy
a tour of Eldon House and its grounds.
Special entertainment, activities for
children and adults are planned to
celebrate Canada’s birthday. 12-5pm,
FREE, Eldon House
sp o tl i ght
SO WHAT’S
ART BERGMANN
BEEN UP TO FOR
THE LAST COUPLE
OF DECADES?
Art Bergmann’s not getting
any younger and his bones are
giving him grief, which is to say
there might not be that many
more opportunities to catch
Canada’s godfather of punk in
live performance. This always
arresting singer-songwriter
wouldn’t know how to fake it if
www.rmsmedia.ca
he wanted to and it’s that everpresent note of authenticity that has attracted top drawer collaborators like John Cale
and Chris Spedding to sit in with him in the studio. Quite aside from his early rabblerousing work with hot-headed B.C. bands like The Notorious Smorg Brothers, and the
K-Tels (legally ‘persuaded’ to re-dub themselves the Young Canadians) – not to mention
his appearances in such beloved Bruce McDonald films as Highway 61 and Hard Core
Logo – the Bergmann legend is primarily sustained by a string of stellar albums from the
late 80s to the mid 90’s that are absolutely drenched in attitude, swagger and grit: Crawl
with Me, Sexual Roulette, What Fresh Hell is This? Design Flaw and Vultura Highway.
There have been various compilations, re-workings, reissues and tribute albums
since that golden streak but the just-released The Apostate is Bergmann’s first fulllength collection of original songs in almost 20 years. And for the London stop of his
promotional tour on Friday, June 24th, there’s only one joint in town where this gig
belongs – Call the Office.
06.23.16

23 JUNE - The London Yodeller

Transcription

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