My day’s been full of ‘em.
From Belch Blog
Thoughts of the clown motif began first thing this morning and continues straight through the evening.
Exhibits:
- Little Old Magician, How i miss you So! http://bit.ly/97BdVk
- #NowPlaying SOTD Funhouse by PINK http://bit.ly/b3pKWc
- http://twitpic.com/12c5f3 – As found at http://www.belch.com/blog
Made me think of the saddest clown ever!
Pagliacci
Pagliacci (Players, or Clowns) is an opera consisting of a prologue and two acts written and composed by Ruggero Leoncavallo. It recounts the tragedy of a jealous husband in a commedia dell’arte troupe. (Its name is sometimes incorrectly rendered as I Pagliacci with a definite article.)
Pagliacci premiered at the Teatro Dal Verme in Milan on May 21, 1892, conducted by Arturo Toscanini with Adelina Stehle as Nedda, Fiorello Giraud as Canio, Victor Maurel as Tonio, and Mario Ancona as Silvio. Nellie Melba created the role of Nedda in London in 1892, soon after its Italian premiere, and in New York in 1893.
It is the only opera of Leoncavallo that is still widely staged. Since 1893, it has usually been performed in a double bill with Pietro Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana, a pairing referred to in the operatic world colloquially as “Cav and Pag”. Although this pairing has long been the norm in most places, some theatres have been very late in staging these two works together. For example, the Mikhaylovsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg presented the double bill for the first time only in February 2009.[1]
Etta James – (I’m Afraid) The Masquerade Is Over
from her album “Mystery Lady: Songs Of Billie Holiday” (1994)
Out of South Africa, WOW Had to grab this because its all about the Ninja!
The Wisdom of Die Antwoord!
check it
I present South Afrikan culture
this place
you hear a lot of different things
blacks
whites
colored
english
‘fricans
?cozer
zulu
?
Im wrapped(?)
All these different things
all these different things all these different people
packed into one person
[Hook]
I, I, I
I am your butterfly
I need your protection
Be my samurai
I, I, I
I am your butterfly
I need your protection
Need your protection
I’m a ninja, yo
My life is like a videogame
I maintain when I’m in the zone
One player one life on the mic
I’m in the dark
Yo, ninja, go
No fuckin around I’m cutting down
Anyone in my path
Tryna fuck up my game with razor sharp
Lyrical throw stars
Killin’ my foes like
Hos! Ska!
Wild, outta control
Ninja skop befokte rof taal
Rough rhymes, tough times
Met fokkol kos, skraal
Till I hit triple seven at the ATM
Straight famine or feast,
When you’re living on the razor edge
Stay sharp, sharp
Rolling with the $O$
High energy
Never seen zef so fresh
Uh, when we mic check
Hi-def flow’s flex
Yo we aren’t the messed up
Not fucking the best
We not like the rest
My style is UFO
Totally unknown
You can’t fuck with my new Zef flow
I’m hard to miss
“You can’t do this, you can’t do that”
Yo, fuckin’ who said so?
I do what I like
Too hot to handle, too cold to hold
You can’t fuck with the chosen one
I-I-I want the knife
I’m a Ninja
Hook x2
Ninja is poes cool
But don’t fuck with my game
Boy or I’ll poes you
Life is tough
When I get stuck
When my time is up
I push through
Till I break-break-break
on through to the other side
Fantastically poor with faces like a stalker
Ninja is hardcore
Been cut so deep, feel no pain
It’s not sore
Don’t ask for kak or
You’ll get what you ask for
I’m like a wild animal in the corner
Waiting for the break of dawn
Trying to get through the night
Just a man with the will to survive
My blade swing free
Decapitate a hater with amazing ease
This is not a game, boy
Don’t play with me
I work my light sabre like a wild fucking savage
from the dark side danger
Yin to the yang
Totally Hi-Tek Ninjas
Motherfucking big in Japan
I seen the future, but I never got nothing in my hand
Except a microphone, big dreams and a plan
Fly-talking, sky-walking
Like a ninja
Hook x2
Fuck, this is like
The coolest song I ever heard in my whole life
Fuck all of you who said I wouldn’t make it
Who said I was a loser
They said I was a no-one
They said I was a fuckin’ psycho
But look at me now:
All up on the interweb
World-wide, 2009
Futurista
Enter the ninja
Yolandi Visser
DJ Hi-Tek
Die fokken Antwoord
What’s my name?
I, I, I (I’m a ninja)
I am your butterfly
I need your protection
Be my samurai
I, I, I (yo I’m a ninja)
I am your butterfly
I need your protection
Need your protection
I, I, I (Yo I’m a ninja)
I am your butterfly
I need your protection
Be my samurai
I, I, I (a motherfuckin’ ninja)
I am your butterfly
I need your protection
Need your protection
*****
Want More?
Lwa Of Our House, please click to visit the amazing website this image was found on!
Agwe is the Loa or Lwa ( Spirit) of Mariners, the Sea, and the husband of La Sirene. He is often depicted in Naval uniform. I selected this image rather than the naval one because I not only love it, I remember the image from a long ago watery dream. Carried along the currents of a fast flowing river, He was Blue. We explored under water caves, frolicked with the fishies, and made our way to the open sea. As i looked down at my own self I saw that I too was blue. We were sea monsters! He deposited me on the rocky shore and swam away, leaving me to cry out for him with no name. I never dreamed of this magical playmate in Blue form again. *sigh*
La Sirene wears three rings, one for each of her husbands. Being of triple nature herself I think that’s only fitting. What I did not know, and just learned of tonight is that Agwe is husband to three Lwa’s his own bad self! Ezili, LaSirene and LaBalenn. Whahoo! Those are the three forms of La Sirene!
Agwe and La Sirene come from the Rada “nanchons” (nations). There are many family groups. The Rada are considered the oldest and associated with the gods of Africa as compared to the Ghede, who are the spirits of deceased folks are fearless and a heck of a party to hang out with. I like to think of these spirits as Humanity’s ancestors, sort of like having our great great great great (etc) uncles and aunts Mamma’s and Papa’s hanging out with us during good times and bad – throughout successive generations. Doesn’t that make you feel wonderful? Well it makes me feel good. One day I’ll write about the African Mama spirit that came to my hospital side during a great time of need (age 23). But today I have other plans.
First let me give you a taste of what Loa’s mean to me. Despite Pat Robertson’s ignorance and hateful Propaganda of late, Loa’s are not Satan. They aren’t even singular. They are many and varied and in no way evil though they can be mischievous and they can cause harm to those who are not properly prepared. Any evil working done with voodoo is the practitioners fault not the religion and certainly not the spirits under whom this beautiful system was formed. Think Pedophilic Catholic Priests. Well okay maybe not, after all it was the church that condoned protecting these monsters and provided them new hunting grounds when ever caught by angry parishioners.
I’ve read that Lwa’s while spirit are Angels, which fits for me because I have been working out a little something with regards to what Angels really are. They too are ancestors of Humanity. People may not like this part but I’m a gonna say it any way. Angels are known to not have what we call free will. I agree and true to form, disagree. The lack of free will is a dogmatic way of describing slave. Slave to instinct. The law of God if you will, the universe, of nature.
But if you remember your bible studies, there is a group of angels who evolved to a certain point where they were able to say “Yes I Will” or “No I Won’t”. And what happened to them? They got ‘cast’ down to earth. We’ve been terrified throughout the current era Anno Domini of these beings. Beings of fire and brimstone of evil intentions of having turned their backs on God, right?
As I’ve said before my god is a loving god, a creator an artist, a parent of this universe or perhaps even the entirety of this universe. Within us, (it’s progeny) around us, coursing through us. And by us I mean everything with a heart beat, a pulse, an electrical impulse, everything with life. Whether this life is recognizable to us puny humans as life or living, or not is immaterial.
As I have doubted the veracity of Judas being a traiter to Jesus, I also doubt that the angels that minister to this world and her inhabitants have been cursed by god or of being intrinsically evil.
Here I go with my word love again.
Rib, the thing from which woman was supposed to be formed from, is a mis translation. The word in Hebrew tesla is something closer to ’side’. (1) It seems to me Adam’s first wife, Lillith was created as Adam was created, from the dust. Therefore they were both dual and complete beings. This may explain why Lillith refused to be mated or “paired” with Adam. Perhaps she thought what’s the point? I am everything I need to be already? And perhaps, just perhaps Adam also being perfect and complete was a bit arrogant to Lillith, trying to force her ‘below’ him. This is when Eve came into the picture. Eve, created from Adam’s side (Lower part btw) causing Adam to long for a mate and when he saw Eve for the first time cried out in joy, “Flesh of my Flesh Bone of My Bone!” Without this splitting of the pair ther would be no longing for union. Without longing for union…”life” (the true meaning of Eve’s name) lies inert. There would be no generation! See Hazels short illustrated story Opening Pandora’s Box for more info on this theme. (UPDATED TO ADD: Oops My Bad, I meant Aphrodite & Eros The Foam Born. But both stories are a part of this theme anyway so… if you’re inclined have at it, and please do enjoy!)
This longing is what I believe Shakespeare was getting at with his Great Play Romeo and Julliet.
Snip
Juliet:
‘Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone—
And yet no farther than a wan-ton’s bird,
That lets it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silken thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Romeo:
I would I were thy bird.
Juliet:
Sweet, so would I,
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow. [Exit above]
end snip
Cast. to be cast means to be thrown yes, it also means to be sculpted as in clay. What do potters call it when they are creating a design? They cast! according to Babylon’s free Dictionary there is another meaning for “cast” to select an actor for a theatrical role! Put that in your pipe and smoke it!
As I see them, The Angels are part of this earth as an energetic force. Think Deva (some call them angels or fairies, and hey why not loa’s too? A rose is a rose by any other name and all that jazz!) the divine intelligence that tells a rabbit to be a rabbit, a carrot to be a carrot, a mineral to be a mineral.
To summarize, My god is a God of Love, and so is my Loa and her Mate.
Note (1) WoW Man thinking of Nikola Tesla at the moment- Master of Lightening!
Too excited to remember my password at the moment, just wanted to crow about the good work these folks have been doing over the past 6 years!
In Your FACE Bill W!
Top officer facing murder charges commanded Canada’s largest air base, flew top diplomats
The commander of one of Canada’s largest military bases is in a prison cell today, accused of murdering two Ontario women—including a fellow service member—and sexually assaulting two others.
Col. Russell Williams, a career air force officer, was the top man at CFB Trenton, the same Ontario base that has welcomed home the flag-draped caskets of every Canadian soldier killed in Afghanistan. But on Sunday night, police slapped him with another label: serial predator.
Investigators are hesitant to reveal specifics, but the charge sheet speaks for itself, accusing the once-impeccable colonel of leading a secret double life of rape and murder. In September, police say he broke into a pair of homes and attacked two women (both victims lived near Tweed, the same Ontario hamlet where Williams resided). His next alleged victim was Marie-France Comeau, a 38-year-old corporal who was also stationed at CFB Trenton. She was killed inside her home in late-November, her lifeless body discovered by her boyfriend. And this morning, detectives discovered the remains of a second slain woman: 27-year-old Jessica Lloyd of Belleville, Ont., who was missing since Jan. 28. Arrested in Ottawa Sunday night, Williams now faces two counts each of first-degree murder, forcible confinement, break and enter, and sexual assault.
Police are not saying whether the murders were random, or if the colonel, who is married with no children, had a previous relationship with either of the women. Speaking at a press conference today, Detective-Inspector Chris Nicholas of the Ontario Provincial Police also refused to reveal what specific evidence led them to Williams—a man whose 23-year career included a stint flying the VIP Challenger jets used by prime ministers and other dignitaries. Nicholas would only say that Williams came first came to their attention Feb. 4, when officers were questioning motorists on the same rural highway where Lloyd lived. There was “a singularity” in all the incidents, Nicholas said, without providing details. He did say this, however: “We are certainly tracking the movements of where this man has been over the past several years, and we’re continuing on with our investigation.”
Dressed in a blue prison jumpsuit, Williams made a brief appearance today in a Belleville courtroom. He stated his full name, said he understood the charges, and was remanded in custody until another hearing scheduled for Feb. 18.
Needless to say, news of his arrest sent shockwaves through the Department of National Defence, where Williams seemed destined for an eventual promotion to general. As commander of 8 Wing Trenton, he was already in charge of the country’s busiest airbase, a sprawling facility between Ottawa and Toronto that houses transport planes, search and rescue aircraft, and Canada’s Disaster Assistance Response Team (DART). He took over the top job in July. “These are exciting times for the air force,” he said at the time. “I am confident that the team here is up to the task and I look forward to getting right into that work.”
Today, Lieutenant-General André Deschamps, Chief of the Air Staff, issued a far more somber statement. “This situation affects us all and I wish to extend my deepest sympathies to the families of those affected by these tragic events,” he said. “Although one is considered innocent until proven guilty, in light of the seriousness of the charges, and in consideration of the high level of responsibilities attached to the position of Wing Commander, an interim Wing Commander for 8 Wing Trenton will soon be appointed…The Canadian Forces hold their members to a very high standard of conduct and performance, in Canada or abroad, on or off military duty. I confirm that the Air Force is fully supporting civilian authorities in the conduct of the current matter.”
A self-described “avid golfer, keen photographer, fisherman and runner,” Williams enrolled in the Canadian Forces in 1987 after earning an economics and political science degree from the University of Toronto. He received his flying wings in 1990 and two years later was posted to 434 (Combat Support) Squadron in Shearwater, where he flew the CC144 Challenger in the electronic warfare/coastal patrol role. He was subsequently posted to 412 (Transport) Squadron in Ottawa, where he continued to fly the Challenger, this time hauling VIPs. Promoted to major in 1999 and lieutenant-colonel in 2004, he also served as commanding officer at Camp Mirage, the ultra-secretive forward logistics base that the government has never officially acknowledged, but is widely reported to be in Dubai. In January 2009, he was posted to the Canadian Forces Language School in Gatineau, Que., for a six-month period of French training, his last step before Trenton.
Tonight I was reminded, or rather inspired to remember this long lost short story I wrote over at All Story.
(very short only 8 lines long!) *Note I was just struck by the oddness that this story was written after an event that occurred in my life at age 8, Holy Cow Man!
Enjoy!
I remember her eyes, I Never! Forgot those.1
Green, wide, backwards looking, she shoved me roughly off of the swing. I was amazed at her terror, of what was it? Who was it? Was it me?2
Gingerly, I crept away.3
All I wanted to tell her was the good news! The wonderful news, the most beautiful of Women, came to me! She was draped in blue and white flowing fabric, flowing like an anti gravity dream suit of crystal and silk.4
She rode the back of the wind, slamming through red brick, they split and I saw the inner sun-shining forth.5
But all Lillith could do was spill me on the ground as she rose to her feet, quick silver up and angles of wrist, elbow, knee-bow, shin and heel.6
She fled to the sanctuary of “away”, looking over her shoulder at me as if she expected some kind of beast to rip from my chest and swallow her whole.7
It was the beginning, of an uneasy truce. 8
To My startling Lady in Blue, this one’s for you! *MUAH!*
Red headed Now a blond Buddhist maybe about 16-17 now. She’s tall and looks older than she really is. Outreach workers in the DTES please keep an eye out for this sweet girl. She’s trafficked!!! Meth dealers should probably know her.
And to all you fuckers who knew what was going on and didn’t do a thing? HELL Cometh! And she wears high heels.
In the offchance Zoe should stumble across this blog:
Here is a place that can help you
It’s set up JUST for teen’s like you. 23 hectares ( 58 acres) of stunning rural beauty in Keremeos. Residency programs last 6 months to a year.
It’s brand new, so HURRY before all the space is taken up.
Media Announcement from the planning stages, read all about it!
Well Hale-fucking-looya! It’s about freaking time. They’ve found similarities among some of its 84 cases but “still” cops say no evidence of a serial killer at work. Yep, that’s cause it’s serial killerzzzz (as in plural). (GREAT Job Copper’s, I know yer on a roll. Keep it UP!)
See full article below
By Gabrielle Giroday, Winnipeg Free Press
WINNIPEG — A police task force set up to examine the trail of murdered and missing women in Manitoba has uncovered similarities among some of its 84 cases — but police say they’ve found no evidence of a serial killer.
Seven officers and two civilian analysts on the task force formed last August have identified certain cases for re-examination dating all the way back to 1926, police said this week.
Task force investigators will look for links between those cases and then hand them back to officers in various areas of expertise, such as the RCMP Serious Crimes Unit or WPS Homicide Unit to pursue.
Police did not say how many cases were identified where investigators think there’s similarities, but made it clear nothing points to a serial killer.
“At this point, we have no evidence to suggest that one single individual is responsible for more than one of the homicides,” said Chaput.
The task force was announced last August after the deaths of Hillary Angel Wilson, 18, and Cherisse Houle, 17.
Wilson’s body was found in the Rural Municipality of East St. Paul, and classified as a homicide.
In July, Houle’s body was found dumped in a field. Police said it was a suspicious death.
The possibility of a serial killer had been raised at meetings between the RCMP, residents and the province’s justice minister.
Under pressure to deal with the killings and disappearance of women in Manitoba — the same kind of incidents that have happened across Western Canada — police agreed to form the task force.
Speaking this week, RCMP spokeswoman Sgt. Line Karpish and Winnipeg Police Service spokeswoman Const. Jackie Chaput did not identify the number of homicides among the 84 Manitoba cases, or say how many involve missing women where foul play is suspected.
“We’re going to be pursuing certain investigations more aggressively and in a more in-depth fashion,” said Chaput.
Task force members will continue to review the files and then contact investigating officers to follow up leads they identify.
She said task force members provide critical perspective on the files about potential “gaps” or links between cases that could have been isolated from each other.
“They’ll be able to take a step back, take a set of fresh eyes, go page by page, picture by picture, and go through every piece of paper, every statement that was taken on these files, every piece of evidence to see if there is a possibility that there are similarities among these cases that would warrant that one person may be responsible,” said Karpish.
Merle Green, the executive director of Mother of Red Nations — a group that works to support aboriginal women and children — said she believes the task force should have an advisory committee set up so members of the aboriginal community can pass confidential information to investigators.
The RCMP announced a communications position in August that has a constable based at the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs.
The province also has an action group to work with vulnerable and exploited women, announced in the wake of the deaths.
gabrielle.giroday@freepress.mb.ca
My “others” have been telling me their secrets. Our secrets, the ones
they’ve been hiding for fear of being exterminated.
I’ve decided to recount for you one of my own experiences. Not a
forgotten or repressed memory but one I’ve puzzled over for years.
First let me explain something, something I’ve come to understand
thanks to my inner companions and their emerging courage.
Since I was about 10 or 11 I began noticing a strange phenomena. The
very ’sort’ of people dads old lady used to terrify me about seemed to
always be around when I was in trouble. Gentle eyes, a word of
kindness here or there. Encouragement and who knows what other kinds
of support I am still unaware of to this day. I couldn’t understand
this, these kindnesses from strangers while neighbours prefered to
cast scornful eyes and condemnations.
But I do today.
Those “strangers” knew the truth. And their hands were tied. But
quietly, surreptitiously they undermined Lillith and her posse.
Then one day, I slipped up.
19 bartending, Duck you were a regular fixture at my bar. I loved
having you around because of your gentle eyes and respectful nature,
you made me feel safe.
Until one day, you were cracking a joke about niggers. I guess you
never realized my daddy was black.
I guess you didn’t know I had a bonified Nazi squatting in my house or
how work was my only sanctuary from the pain. I guess you didn’t know
why I bitchslapped you so hard that day. But it was because of what
you said about killing blacks.
I rose up in fury, bet you had never seen my anger before. I usually
kept it under wraps pretty tight.
The voice ( that’s what we call it in the family) ripped from my
throat causing all your black whiskers to stand on end.
I asked you if that went for women an children too.
( I could feel it coming off you in waves) your shame. You lowered
your eyes and said ruefully, of course not.
I thundered at you, ” look at me!” Don’t you know what I Am?”
You nodded sadly and slid off your regular perch.
You came back once more after that, careful not to look directly into
my eyes.
Quietly you said to me that now you knew what I was. I was a witch. I
laughed at the absurdity of the idea, at the time.
Well I’m not laughing now. Now I take you seriously.
Duck, I cared for you and you scared me by letting it drop you’d kill
my daddy, my uncles, my nephews just as soon as look at them.
That’s why I told you to look at me, that’s why I bellowed with rage.
Because I love my black men. They are my blood and when their blood
spills due to kkk white supremest Nazi hate, my heart bleeds too.
I was born this color. I can’t do nor would I do anything to change
that.
Now I ask you, were you a born racist? Is there any chance you can
change your mind set? Would you? If not because its the right thing to
do than perhaps for the love of all those sweet brown things you dig
so much?
Don’t you know? We love our daddys, brothers, uncles and sons? Don’t
you know your hatred of the strong black man causes us trauma the
likes of which holocaust survivors carry?
Don’t you know niggers are people too?
And oh yeah, so are witches.
Do ya think you could do me a favor?
Call off your dogs. You made a terrible mistake based on ignorance and
fear.
I’m not angry at you. I’m saddend. Saddend that a good man could be
twisted by an ideology so twisted that he’d send a young girl to the
gallows because he didn’t like the tone of her voice.
Saddend that I lost a friend because he was too blind to see what kind
of heart was staring him in the face.
My heart, is a good heart, and mister you lost out.
Lola Dug up an old thundercast for the occasion. Enjoy!
Found this wicked awesome website via my new tweep.
I’ve already tweeted my joy but this is so important I’m devoting a post to it cuz I think every one needs to get this information.
The Narcissist: A User’s Guide, by Lori Hoeck. and Betsy Wuebker
Ms. Hoeck a long time Ninja and the publishers must think this info is essential learning material too because they are offering it for FREE! i xox free! Now, No excuses read this book, it could save your life! I’m reading it as soon as I finish posting this.
Betsy Wuebker’s Site PassingThru.
Lori Hoeck’s Site: Think Like A Ninja
Group says 38 Downtown Eastside women still missing Cops refute numbers in CEDAW report
Janaya Fuller-Evans
Special to Vancouver Courier
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
The Joint Missing Women Task Force is investigating about 30 cold cases.
CREDIT: Dan Toulgoet
The Joint Missing Women Task Force is investigating about 30 cold cases.
Eight years after a special joint task force was formed between the Vancouver Police Department and the B.C. RCMP to solve more than 60 missing women cases in the Downtown Eastside, at least half remain unsolved.
In a report sent to the United Nations on Tuesday, B.C. CEDAW Group, a coalition of a dozen B.C. women’s organizations, says 38 women on the list are still missing.
But according to police, two of the cases were solved in the past two years.
Laura Kathleen Mah was reported missing by her family in 1999. Investigators discovered in spring 2009 that Mah, 42, had died of natural causes at Burnaby General Hospital in 1986. Her death was filed with B.C. Vital Statistics under the name Marie Laura Mah.
Lillian Jean O’Dare was identified in 2007 from a skeleton found in an East Side house in 1989. She had disappeared in 1978.
According to an email from RCMP Staff Sgt. Wayne Clary, six other cases have moved forward, though charges have not been laid.
The Joint Missing Women Task Force, which runs Project Evenhanded, is still investigating about 30 cold cases of women missing from the Downtown Eastside.
The budget for the fiscal year is $6 million, Clary said.
The B.C. CEDAW Group filed a report with the UN’s Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women on Tuesday about the lack of progress on two priority recommendations the committee made in 2008.
The UN committee asked the federal government to provide a report by November 2009 on steps taken to deal with low social assistance rates and the disappearance and murder of aboriginal women and girls throughout Canada. The request was in keeping with Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women.
That report has not been filed, according to the B.C. CEDAW Group. “What we do know is aboriginal women and girls are still going missing and getting murdered,” said Laura Holland, a founding member of the Aboriginal Women’s Action Network, which is one of the member organizations of the group. “I think it’s really important that Canada has an adequate response to this.”
Throwing money into Project Evenhanded or other investigations isn’t the answer, Holland said, noting no charges have been laid since Robert Pickton was convicted in 2008 of second-degree murder in the cases of six women from the Downtown Eastside. Pickton was charged with 27 counts of murder, with one case dismissed for lack of evidence. Twenty charges still stand.
The group wants the provincial and federal governments to work together to end the poverty that makes so many aboriginal women across the country vulnerable to violence, she added, and should work together to provide answers to the families of the missing women. “They have been aware of this pattern of racial violence [for a long time],” Holland said. “They need to find out what happened and how to prevent it in the future.”
RCMP Cpl. Annie Linteau, spokesperson for Project Evenhanded, would not specify how many officers are working on the investigation, saying only that the number changes and that all of the cases are being looked at.
Linteau could not identify how many of the missing women are of First Nations descent or other specifics on the task force because she was away from her Vancouver office at a press conference in Prince George for the “Highway of Tears” investigation into missing aboriginal women in northern B.C.
© Vancouver Courier 2010
The Best Defense Is transparency!
I’ve talked in this blog extensively about my belief that the current prostitution laws in Canada put lives at risk by shuffling sex workers into the shadows, back alleys, or in house and under the thumb of pimps and escort ‘business owners”. This imho is due to the FACT that in Canada prostitution isn’t illegal but communicating for the purpose of, living off the avails of, keeping a bawdy house, is illegal.
Background HERE as per SPOC.
While I have personally come to view prostitution as a form of slavery… See personal journal entry HERE if you wish, my greatest wish for men and women involved in this underground economy at the present time is for their health and well being. I am aware it will take a momentous shift of consciousness before the demand for prostitution ebbs away, and I look forward to that day. However I am pragmatic believe it or not and I truly believe that if Canada wants to uphold the UN convention of the 50’s and remain one of the G8 members then we need to honor the ratified agreements we signed and go beyond the whole lets leave prostitution legal but make it too dangerous for any morally upright individual to sell his or her sexuality. Safe places to work, health coverage and insurance, exit strategies and retirement funds are needed now.
Back to the best defense is transparency thought. When we go covert, run for cover, clam up, hide our lights under the proverbial barrel, WE LOSE. We become easy pickin’s for the unscrupulous. Just take a look at the Pickton travesty if you don’t quite get what I’m saying. For every life that is destroyed by these crappy unfair laws, the world is diminished.
Fight or flight? How ’bout just standing your ground?!
That’s all folks… for the time being.
She fell in love at age ten to the sweetest boy ever. Used to carve their initials in the Styrofoam cooler that doubled for her nightstand. (yes they were very poor) They listened to rock n roll on eight tracks, built forts with blankets, ran around in farmers fields, and once, in the dead of winter he was showing off by jumping up and down on the frozen over property well of his folks. Binah was all like Oh Nooo’s don’t do that you’ll fall in! He was all like No’s I won…. Crack Splash!
He held in there, frozen water up to his pits. Binah knew about hypothermia, she’d had it before. There was no time to run the kilometer back to the farm house to get help so she layed down in the snow hooked her arms under his and HEAVED HARD. It didn’t work at first and she really thought he was going to die. But she kept at it and finally she pulled him up part way and he used his little legs to help prop himself up and with all their combined strength pulled him out.
Back at the farm house, parents scrambled to get blankets and warm clothes. the kids were soaked to the bone with teeth chattering like tea cups in an earthquake.
Well parents were horrified for their little munchkin and friend. Called up Lillith and said don’t worry we’ve got her clothes in the dryer but maybe she should sleep over because it’s getting late? And that’s how she and he ended up having their first sleep over.
These two were always fighting over silly nonsense and forever making up. They really were cute little rascals.
Then spring came, and they got another sleep over – play date.
They were such naughty little kids! They cuddled for a while then staring intently at her he asked, “Why’s your nose so flat and little? For some reason this made Binah mad so she punched him right in his (perfectly formed) shnoze. Bad little girl!
Then she kissed him. First kisses turned into first hickies. Oh Yeah! Well little Binah had to wear turtle necks for over a week, the little guy was quite the sucker.
The next day at dinner, older sister had already heard about the hickies on the local party line where she liked to chat with little blondie’s older brother. So she started teasing Binah who had somewhat covered up the red marks with the help of Blondie’s older sister. But the makeup was much lighter than Binah’s natural tan. Looked pretty obvious. For that reason Binah had donned a white turtle neck to try and deek out her ‘foster’ mum’s keen eye.
Lillith figured out what her kids were talking about. She recognized Binah’s glowering look and understood her eldest daughters cryptic remarks. Before Binah could duck, Lillith leaped over the table, grabbed her by the neck and dragged her into the bathroom where Lillith forcibly ripped the little one’s shirt right off her back.
Yadda Yadda Yadda, lets just conclude it was a baaad night for Binah.
A day or two later he phoned as was his custom, they liked to talk a lot. But something was wrong. She didn’t sound right. What he couldn’t have known was that Lillith was standing over Binah with a hand raised. Mouthing to her to say goodbye. Tearfully Binah had to tell him not to call her again, ever.
When Binah left that house a year and a half later, do you know what she did? She looked for him. That little pint sized sleuth even found him. His family had sold the farm and moved to town. They lived in a townhouse right by where Binah’s best friend (from age five) had also moved. One of the first coinky dinks Binah would recognize in a long line of ‘em to come. So Binah went to visit her friend, had to put about $2.50 worth of quarters in the sweet jar for the amount of times she jumped up and down in the car saying “I can’t wait, I can’t wait!” But it was worth it.
Guess what happened? Her network of spies had told her they asked Blondie about her, and he didn’t know her name, had no idea who she was. Refusing to believe it, she went looking for him, and spied him on the curb. Blank. No glimmer of recognition. She was crushed.
But wait, she didn’t ever forget him. She kept telling people about her little blond boy for years. Well a couple more years anyway until she got a phone call in the middle of the night.
He’s dead, they said. Died in a car crash.
After that Binah did forget him. All about him. But her mother didn’t. One day mother asked Binah, “Remember that day you came screaming down the stairs? Who was that boy anyway?” “What boy?” Binah asked, then learned about the phone call and the car crash. Remembering all over again, sent her a little bit around the bend.
A couple years later, she saw his doppelganger. This boy was a teen same as Binah now was. He had long hair and was sitting in a white van at a stop light. The van was one of those nondescript types with reinforced windows. Looked like a jouvey transport. He stared at her hard, with something akin to menace. Binah thought to herself, wow, that guy looks like blondie might have and got the chills.
She never did forget him again, but she did stop looking. I mean wouldn’t you? He was dead, right? Right?
