I’ve said before that every craftsman
searches for what’s not there
to practice his craft.
A builder looks for the rotten hole
where the roof caved in. A water-carrier
picks the empty pot. A carpenter
stops at the house with no door.
Workers rush toward some hint
of emptiness, which they then
start to fill. Their hope, though,
is for emptiness, so don’t think
you must avoid it. It contains
what you need!
Dear soul, if you were not friends
with the vast nothing inside,
why would you always be casting your net
into it, and waiting so patiently?
This invisible ocean has given you such abundance,
but still you call it “death”,
that which provides you sustenance and work.
”—I’ve said before that every craftsman, Jalaludin Rumi
"All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold. Had you been as wise as bold, Young in limbs, in judgement old Your answer had not been inscroll’d Fare you well, your suit is cold.”
-The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare
"There’s an ocean of despair There are people livin’ there They’re unhappy each and every day But hell is not fashion so what U tryin’ 2 say?
Everybody wants 2 sell what’s already been sold Everybody wants 2 tell what’s already been told What’s the use of money if U ain’t gonna break the mold? Even at the center of fire there is cold All that glitters ain’t gold, no no All that glitters ain’t gold, no no”
"There are so many things I’m interested in that I could never really master them all in one lifetime. So my natural inclination is to have a bunch of projects going on at once. Like I worked in the music industry while I was finishing college. I had the e-commerce business while I was writing the Res album. I worked at the gallery while I was recording the first Stiffed EP. And I’m always working on about four projects at once. The plan is just to do something that matters, to get to where all I have to do is create, and to have an impact on the world in some way. That’s a vague enough ambition to grow into I think."
raise me more love… raise me my prettiest fits of madness O’ dagger’s journey… in my flesh and knife’s plunge… sink me further my lady… the sea calls me add to me more death … perhaps as death slays me… I’m revived your body is my map… the world’s map no longer concerns me… I am the oldest capital of sadness… and my wound a Pharaonic engraving my pain…. extends like an oil patch from Beirut… to China… my pain… a caravan…dispatched by the Caliphs of “A’Chaam”… to China… in the seventh century of the “Birth”… and lost in a dragon’s mouth… bird of my heart… “naysani” O’ sand of the sea, and forests of olives O’ taste of snow, and taste of fire… my heathen flavor, and insight I feel scared of the unknown… shelter me I feel scared of the darkness… embrace me I feel cold… cover me up tell me children stories… rest beside me… Chant to me… since from the start of creation I’ve been searching for a homeland to my forehead… for a woman’s hair… that writes me on the walls… then erases me… for a woman’s love… to take me to the borders of the sun… and throws me… from a woman’s lip… as she makes me like dust of powdered gold… shine of my life. my fan my lantern. declaration of my orchards stretch me a bridge with the scent of oranges… and place me like an ivory comb… in the darkness of your hair… then forget me I am a drop of water… ambivalent remaining in the notebook of October your love crushes me… like a mad horse from the Caucasus throwing me under its hoofs… and gargles with the water of my eyes… add to me more fury… add to me O’ prettiest fits of my madness for your sake I set free my women and effaced my birth certificate and cut all my arteries…
Prime Minister Stephen Harper's apology to residential school survivors
EDS: Paragraphs in brackets were spoken in French.
"Mr. Speaker, I stand before you today to offer an apology to former students of Indian residential schools. The treatment of children in Indian residential schools is a sad chapter in our history.
(For over a century the residential schools separated over 150,000 Native children from their families and communities)
In the 1870s, the federal government, partly in order to meet its obligation to educate aboriginal children, began to play a role in the development and administration of these schools.
Two primary objectives of the residential schools system were to remove and isolate children from the influence of their homes, families, traditions and cultures, and to assimilate them into the dominant culture.
These objectives were based on the assumption aboriginal cultures and spiritual beliefs were inferior and unequal. Indeed, some sought, as it was infamously said, “to kill the Indian in the child”.
Today, we recognize that this policy of assimilation was wrong, has caused great harm, and has no place in our country. One hundred thirty-two schools financed by the federal government were located in all provinces and territories with the exception of Newfoundland, New Brunswick and P.E.I.
Most schools were operated as “joint ventures” with Anglican, Catholic, Presbyterian or United Churches. The government of Canada built an educational system in which very young children were often forcibly removed from their homes, often taken far from their communities. Many were inadequately fed, clothed and housed. All were deprived of the care and nurturing of their parents, grandparents and communities.
First Nations, Inuit and Metis languages and cultural practices were prohibited in these schools. Tragically, some of these children died while attending residential schools and others never returned home.
The government now recognizes that the consequences of the Indian residential schools policy were profoundly negative and that this policy has had a lasting and damaging impact on aboriginal culture, heritage and language.
While some former students have spoken positively about their experiences at residential schools, these stories are far overshadowed by tragic accounts of the emotional, physical and sexual abuse and neglect of helpless children, and their separation from powerless families and communities.
The legacy of Indian residential schools has contributed to social problems that continue to exist in many communities today. It has taken extraordinary courage for the thousands of survivors that have come forward to speak publicly about the abuse they suffered. It is a testament to their resilience as individuals and to the strength of their cultures.
Regrettably, many former students are not with us today and died never having received a full apology from the government of Canada.
The government recognizes that the absence of an apology has been an impediment to healing and reconciliation. Therefore, on behalf of the government of Canada and all Canadians, I stand before you, in this chamber so central to our life as a country, to apologize to aboriginal peoples for Canada’s role in the Indian residential schools system.
To the approximately 80,000 living former students, and all family members and communities, the government of Canada now recognizes that it was wrong to forcibly remove children from their homes and we apologize for having done this.
We now recognize that it was wrong to separate children from rich and vibrant cultures and traditions, that it created a void in many lives and communities, and we apologize for having done this.
We now recognize that, in separating children from their families, we undermined the ability of many to adequately parent their own children and sowed the seeds for generations to follow, and we apologize for having done this.
We now recognize that, far too often, these institutions gave rise to abuse or neglect and were inadequately controlled, and we apologize for failing to protect you. Not only did you suffer these abuses as children, but as you became parents, you were powerless to protect your own children from suffering the same experience, and for this we are sorry.
The burden of this experience has been on your shoulders for far too long. The burden is properly ours as a government, and as a country. There is no place in Canada for the attitudes that inspired the Indian residential schools system to ever again prevail.
You have been working on recovering from this experience for a long time and in a very real sense, we are now joining you on this journey.
The government of Canada sincerely apologizes and asks the forgiveness of the aboriginal peoples of this country for failing them so profoundly.
We are sorry.
In moving towards healing, reconciliation and resolution of the sad legacy of Indian residential schools, implementation of the Indian residential schools settlement agreement began on September 19, 2007.
Years of work by survivors, communities, and aboriginal organizations culminated in an agreement that gives us a new beginning and an opportunity to move forward together in partnership.
A cornerstone of the settlement agreement is the Indian residential schools truth and reconciliation commission. This commission presents a unique opportunity to educate all Canadians on the Indian residential schools system.
It will be a positive step in forging a new relationship between aboriginal peoples and other Canadians, a relationship based on the knowledge of our shared history, a respect for each other and a desire to move forward together with a renewed understanding that strong families, strong communities and vibrant cultures and traditions will contribute to a stronger Canada for all of us.”
"With alarming frequency, music marketers and their PR minions spew forth contrived monikers to classify the products they are trying to push. Haphazardly coined genre names are universally nonsensical —neo-grunge and emo are but two examples. Tacit approval of industry wango-slango enables the cycle to continue unchallenged and shows the accepting writer to be gutless and wholly devoid of imagination. If Bob Pollard can write 17,863 songs without grammatical (or thematic) repetition, music journalists can avoid using a single word of inane corporate-speak in their reviews and essays.”
"It’s time to define the new era. Our faith has been shaken. We’ve lost confidence in our leaders and in our institutions. Our beliefs have been tested. We’ve discredited the notion that the Internet would change everything (and the stock market would buy us an exit strategy from the grind). Our expectations have been dashed. We’ve abandoned the idea that work should be a 24-hour-a-day rush and that careers should be a wild adventure. Yet we’re still holding on.”
I’ve been writing a short story that has the name “Q” in it. It never occurred to me that people wouldn’t find that a name. I’ve actually known three Qs in my time - two were short for longer names, and one was simply “Q’. My story was workshopped earlier on this week, and everyone asked me why Q didn’t have a real name. What’s a real name?
“mi naw preach
mi naw teach
mi jusa show yu
ow mi seit
caw di trute well sweet
jus like a African beat
like wen yu si whey yu comin fram
like wen yu site whichpawt yu reach
soh mi noh care if yu waan vex
ar even gwaan like yu perplex
mi a goh show yu whey mi si mistah man”—Di anfinish revalushan, Linton Kwesi Johnson
“let me be the only one
to keep you from the cold
now the floor of heaven is laid
the stars are bright as gold
they shine for you they shine for you
they burn for all to see
come into these arms again
and set this spirit free”—Love Song for a Vampire, Annie Lennox
On the stairs Natasha ran into her neighbor from across the hall, Baron Wolfe. He was somewhat laboriously ascending the bare wooden steps, caressing the bannister with his hand and whistling softly through his teeth.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry, Natasha?”
“To the drugstore to get a prescription filled. The doctor was just here. Father is better.”
“Ah, that’s good news.”
She flitted past in her rustling raincoat, hatless.