What the heck is going on in Brampton that the sex trade is dying?

Wait, let me start that again.

Hi! How are you! Oh, I’m good! Wife and kids are fine! Yes, I am a well-balanced, stable family man, thank you for asking!

So, again — sex certainly doesn’t sell in Brampton, does it?

Not that I’m buying, mind you. I haven’t been to a strip club since my ex-girlfriend worked at the door of her brother’s strip club, where they tried to get me a job as a DJ. Sordid past? Me? The hell you say!

But you know how it is, when you live in a town long enough. Especially as a guy. Young guys know where the dirty places are, because they all want to go there. Then you get older, and you settle down, and you still know where all the places are, because you consciously think once a month how you never need to go there anymore. Or, I assume, if you were unhappy, where you’d rather be going. But you know where the clubs are, typically because they went out of their way to be memorable. Neon so powerful it made you squint. Pictures of breasts all over the place, that weren’t really fooling anyone with their almost afterthought starburst strategically placed to hide those shameful nipples. Names that made you snicker at the double entendre (The Landing Strip? Get it?!) or the faux classiness of them (Oh, the Manor! SO upscale!). Guys have a mental rolodex, and just because they’re not visited, we still recall where they are.

And Brampton, especially recently, has started systematically running it’s sex out of town.

It’s not just the strip clubs. Sure, the LQ is gone (which caused many of us young men who where "of-that-age" when the Latin Quarter was in operation, but too naive to know about it go "No! Laser Quest is gone?!?!"), and that long-standing bastion of nudeness for both men and woman, the Sword and Shield (or, by it’s correct name, the Shield and Sword), has just reopened as a Day’s Inn. I try to block out the memory of dropping my mother and sister off there for Mom’s birthday. Ah, memories. All the places that Bramptonians snickered at and passed, or gathered 8 guys around you and entered, but all obviously knew about.

But lighter titillation is doing poorly as well, as apparently Brampton cannot maintain a Hooters, or even that lovely knock-off, T&A’s. Apparently even the suggestion of nudity while eating what, if I remember correctly, was fairly decent pub food, is too much for our poor, Canadian souls.

Why do I care, you ask? Well, on the surface, I don’t. But on another level (wait, Jason, you have other levels?!?!), I wonder what the underlying message here is. Is Brampton’s sex trade dying due to poor business practices? Or are the prudes winning? I may not frequent these places, but I stand behind the right for them to exist.

One day, I want my daughters to be disgusted by their boyfriends wanting to go there, just like the rest of us!

Posted via email from Ginger Thunder

Posted via email from Ginger Thunder

Posted via email from Ginger Thunder

I understand that if you surround almost any situation with enough hype, enough flashing lights, enough people screaming, the instinctual animal response is to join in. I get that; I’m not ignorant to the way your brain works. But I gotta ask: do you actually love this biannual jock-fest, or are you sucked in by the mob mentality?

Patriotism is nice when you don’t step on other country’s toes.

I get that the Olympics represents a sort of patriotic rallying post of the most pure variety – you can root for your country in something that doesn’t belittle other countries.

I mean, war is patriotic, but we’ve all been taught that war is bad, and killing others, no matter how evil, is bad. And despite that load of crap, I can see that it makes you feel like a better person to not revel in killing other populations, as that could be seen as separating humanity, and possibly pushing racism to new heights.

I also understand how feeling good about your country for being healthier, or richer, or safer, is also seen as uncharitable, and potentially xenophobic and/or racist. You can’t hate on another country because they’re sick and poor, apparently, and you can’t be proud of your own for having moved past that.

It’s sad that the things we’re good at are all elitist.

Out of the mouths of babes?

So, what can we be proud of?

Clearly, physical accomplishment is the shorthand workaround for actual national pride. No one feels bad if one person runs faster than they can (excluding the few who are actually running around the track with said person), and it doesn’t hold as a representation of your own abilities.

But really, isn’t this a schoolyard thought process?

“I can run faster than you!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Ya-huh!”

“I’ll prove it!”

This shit barely flew while we were in school; why would it become acceptable now? These physical demonstrations of superiority are so unimportant to anything outside of the Olympic setting – how often would you need to be capable of both skiing and shooting in a real world setting? Cutbacks at the police force? Arctic assassin school?

Sure it’s hard; So is chewing through a tree. Doesn’t mean you should brag about it.

I have a certain level of respect for Olympic athletes, at least on the level of skill and training they must master. That being said, what does it say about a person who spends most of their life mastering skating around really fast in a circle? Or cross country skiing? Or, for Jebus’ sake, the fucking skeleton, which is just a human cannonball who forgot his cannon, so said “Fuck it! Ice will make me fast!” and then decided to go HEAD FIRST down a slide that has proven, at least this year, to be willing and able to kill?!?!

Sorry, got carried away.

But seriously, sports fans, whether or not something is difficult to do doesn’t mean that’s the reason to laud it. Sure, that’s the rationale behind Sir Edmund Hillary’s climb of Everest, supposedly, but thanks to him we have quite a few dead corpsicles on the slopes of that mountain.

Really, where is the line that separates the truly stupid from the heroic? There are rumours that an Olympic event being considered for addition is essentially full contact downhill skiing, with hip checking and no ski poles. Which is, as far as I’m considered, another step down the (pun-intended) slippery slope of organized athletics.

I mean, what’s next? Drunken crazy carpet races down the ski slopes while being chased by a mogul monster?

(I totally rock at that, by the way, even though I lost my carpet halfway down the hill, and basically luged on my ass the rest of the way.)

Darwin would have been ashamed.

And really, aren’t we attempting to evolve here? Which means that we nerds are supposed to be the next step? Physically frail, while more and more intelligent – isn’t that the ideal we’re shooting for? The whole reason we geeks are pasty and flabby is all the time spent pumping iron in the mind, not the gym. Why do we glorify the gladiatorial exploits of our common man, thereby encouraging them to keep on truckin’?

I know that some of this may seem like I’m bitter for not being in as good shape as these people, and maybe that’s part of it. But the other part is how holding people who can throw a stick farther than another up as the pinnacle of human achievement cheapens everything we do, on a daily basis. Because really, isn’t that less of an accomplishment than raising a child? Or writing a book? Or painting a work of art? Where are their medals, and poorly choreographed dance numbers? Where are their huge, American Idol-shattering television numbers?

It’s not a mistake that I waited until after the Olympics were over to post this. People get a weird, aggressive mindset going during the Olympics. And refusing to support your teams skating-and-rubber-circle-whacking abilities is somehow seen as unpatriotic, mostly because the person smacking the rubber was born in the same geographical and political region as you were.

I mean, there’s only so long you can watch someone brag about how long they can balance on one leg if you haven’t had a hand in making them.

The argument … is that we, and all other animals, are machines created by our genes. Like successful Chicago gangsters, our genes have survived, in some cases for millions of years, in a highly competitive world. This entitles us to expect certain qualities in our genes. I shall argue that a predominant quality to be expected in a successful gene is ruthless selfishness. This gene selfishness will usually give rise to selfishness in individual behaviour. However, as we shall see, there are special circumstances in which a gene can achieve its own selfish goals best by fostering a limited form of altruism at the level of individual animals. ‘Special’ and ‘limited’ are important words in the last sentence. Much as we might wish to believe otherwise, universal love and the welfare of the species as a whole are concepts that simply do not make evolutionary sense.
-Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene, 1976

It is incredibly frustrating to help people with their problems in this day and age. As a man, I had to get over my natural inclinations, specifically my need to jump in and fix problems for women, or to explain away my wife’s feelings with logic. I’m told, again and again, that this isn’t an area for logical analysis, and I have come to a point where I can accept that. Sort of.

However, that being said, there is a trend that has increasingly been shoved in my face by the media, both television and movies, and repeated ad nauseum by the TV shrinks that I think needs to be addressed. It makes my scalp itch with frustration, and I would like to slap it in its silly face.

This whole “this isn’t about you” mentality.

I’m sure you’ve heard those phrases used in terse, emotional scenes in whatever soap-operatic tear jerker you watch on Thursday nights, with anger and love and frustration wrapped up together: “This isn’t about you! It’s about me! Stop trying to make it about you!”

Hrm. “Stop trying to make it about you.”

Here’s the problem with this particular scenario: the sad truth is, if it’s not about us, we honestly couldn’t give a shit. Not one flying flaming fuck. And we try – yes we do – but everything in our lives – and I mean everything – is only important in how it relates back to us.

Yes, you’ve had a bad day. And yes, you need to vent. And you think it has nothing to do with us. But quite honestly, if it didn’t, we would never listen to you drone on about it. The things that happen to you rarely impact us at all, other than by stressing you out, or putting you in a foul mood which you’ve chosen to take out on others, or even just because you’re more enjoyable to be around when you’re happy. And we can be all ears, and not insert comments, and not judge, and do everything right…and it’s still really about us, underneath it all.

All you people still believing in altruism? Good for you! You are so adorable! And you probably still have faith in the Easter Bunny, and Santa, and that somehow whining and bitching will stop “Global Warming”. Much like many of those things, altruism is just a myth. It’s an ideal to aspire to, and like perfection, it only exists as a concept. We are genetically hard-wired to care about things only in relation to how they relate to us. And we can no sooner change that then we can reach into our brains and force ourselves to like anchovies. It’s out of our hands.

But look at it this way: you are the one having a tough time of things, and it doesn’t hurt us at all, and we’re still listening to you, giving you encouragement, and backing your side.

Does it really matter why?

Peace won by the compromise of principles is a short-lived achievement.

    – Author Unknown

I have a question, and I honestly don’t have an answer for it. It does happen to be something I am pondering at length, but for the moment, I just want to put it out there.

Why do spiritual and New Age-y people always expect compromise?

As I have implied or perhaps outright said before, I am a skeptic, and an Atheist. I don’t believe in anything without some sort of evidence supporting it. It’s part of my whole ‘Logic’ thing that I demand proof. Obviously, this flies in the face of religion and faith, but it also applies to all those other fun areas of belief in crap: psychics, ghosts, crystals, astral projection, alien abduction, demonic possession…seriously, none of it. I didn’t believe in hypnotism until I was myself hypnotized. That would be proof, for those unclear.

But I find it amusing that whenever I engage in an argument about anything based on faith or unproved mysticism, I get otherwise reasonable people expecting to compromise.

“Fine, you don’t believe in God, but you have to agree that humans have a soul!”

“Okay, maybe Jesus didn’t perform miracles like it says in the Bible, but you have to allow he existed – because it says so in the Bible!”

Why do I have to compromise? Why do people think that half-crazy is acceptable, even if they allow full-crazy doesn’t have to be?

Here’s the thing about using anything other than facts to fill in your databanks – they were important to people long ago, because they explained things that had no explanation. But once something is explained adequately by science, you don’t need another theory to explain it. The theory of a soul is used to make people feel better about their own sense of worth and value, but not having a soul doesn’t leave anything unexplained.

And the ghost thing has been rearing its ugly head lately. People demand an explanation when weird crap happens. And if you don’t know what it was? The fallback is “ghosts”. Let me tell you, just because I, with my limited information gathering abilities, my lack of specialized detection equipment, and my not being a PhD-having scientist, can’t tell you why a glowing orb just appeared in your peripheral vision and then disappeared, doesn’t mean that no one on earth, with the proper equipment, couldn’t. However, I can tell you one thing for sure: it wasn’t a ghost.

And no, I won’t compromise and say it was at least something supernatural.

Compromise is a tactic used when both parties need to come to an agreement. But I don’t need you to agree with me. My life goes on unencumbered. You are the one needing me to believe. So there’s no need for my to compromise. I know I’m right, and I have nothing to gain by meeting you halfway.

So stop asking!

Nah, I ain’t Jewish, I just don’t dig on swine, that’s all.

- Jules, Pulp Fiction

If you have managed to go one day in the last 5 months without hearing the words “swine flu”, you have indeed been luckier than I. Not in the 35 years I’ve been alive have I heard so much raw terror and paranoid panic than I have this year. I will allow that SARS got pretty close. Not close enough to stop the Rolling Stones, mind you, and those dudes are probably fragile enough to be wiped out by a cold breeze at this point.

So, let’s look at this thing, shall we? Let’s apply a little logic to our horrifying pandemic. I mean, call it what you will, swine flu or H1N1, it’s clearly got people at the brink of madness. I think a reasonable person, one such as myself, should take a look under the hood, and separate the truth from the bullshit – or would that be pigshit? – and go ahead and have Jonsian Logic vs the Swine Flu.

Now, I’m not unsympathetic to you panicky types. Sickness can be scary. It’s a different kind of fear then a maniac with a chainsaw, or an erupting volcano, of course. Those are concrete, larger than life items that you can avoid simply by keeping out of the vicinity of them. But illness? That’s tougher to avoid. People you know bring it to you. They carry it inside them, and with one sneeze, they’ve doomed you to some serious body malfunction, which could last for days.

And in today’s society, we can’t afford to do the proper thing, and stay at home, and nurse ourselves back to healthy. We need to keep working, keep making that harder-to-get money, to support ourselves and our family. And sometimes – get this – people die! Granted, they’re usually old, or weak, or already sick, but still! What if that were me?

And the media has certainly pushed this one down our throats, haven’t they? Daily reports, sometimes hourly, on how fast this virus spreads. Shots of people in masks, treating people who look on the brink of death. Regular death stats, showing the growing number, and sometimes in percentage form, so you know how the rate of growth is skyrocketing. It’s terrifying coverage, to be sure.

Now, here’s some Logic, Jonsian-style, to lay on it.

H1N1, also known as Swine Flu, has minimal effect on anyone outside of people already at risk of dying of sickness. This means that healthy adults – hell, even healthy children – are no more at risk of dying than they do from the regular flu.

The number of deaths, per year, by the plain ol’ regular fly, is between 250,000 and 500,000. Yeah, bet you never realized how badass regular flu is, did you? Oh, and how many have died from Swine Flu? Clearly, with this level of panic, it must be massive then! In the millions even!

As of October 30th, 2009, there have been 6,051 confirmed deaths from H1N1.

Huh? 6,000? That’s what we’re freaking out over? The flu we’re used to kills almost 100 times as many people, and we’re losing it over the Swine?

And I hate to be a douche about this, but it’s sort of your fault. I’d say our fault, but I do none of the following; our irrational fear of germs and sickness has led to an explosion of anti-bacterial cleaners, which has kept us feeling safe, but lowering our immune system’s defences. We’re supposed to get dirty, so our bodies can learn how to fight off regular infection, and get tough enough to let us ride out the nastier infections when they hit us. Plus, our regular reliance on the flu shot, which even the Center for Disease Control says is more a crapshoot than protection, forces the flu to mutate and buff itself out year after year.

So you dudes have screwed yourselves.

And the media loves this shit. Loves it. Because fear causes you to glue yourself to your television, and that means people are watching, and buying, and clicking, and making money for the media. So they’re going to hype the shit out of this virus. They’re going to report every death in excruciating detail, and let you know how THIS COULD BE YOU!

People are so afraid of this underachieving flu that they refused to give out candy for Hallowe’en. Yeah, cause the real sick kids are well enough to bring their snotty hands to your house to get your candy. What, are you afraid they’ll come dressed as plague monkeys and bite you?

You know how logic would tell you to deal with this? Pretty simple, really.

1. Treat it like you would the real flu. And by that, I mean, you still don’t want to get the real flu? Yeah, same with Swine Flu. But no crazy masks and shit.
2. When you cough or sneeze, whether you have a cold, a vicious case of Regular Ol’ Flu or a case of Pussy Swine Flu, do it in the crook of your arm, for fuck’s sake.
3. It’s up to you if you get an H1N1 vaccine shot, but do you really want to stand in a long line for hours with a bunch of potential patient zeroes?
4. Stop spreading fear.

I can’t stress this last one enough. You are creating a huge monster of terror, where a tiny little rabid mouse is sitting.

‘Hey!’ I think. ‘I’m a blogger! Perhaps I should investigate this Code, and decide if it is something that I should be cozying to as well!’

(I don’t actually talk like that to myself, but it certainly makes me sound more upbeat than the bitter rage-cookie I tend to be.)

So, I go take a look at this Code of Conduct, which is apparently supposed to serve as an inspiration for Bloggers who should maintain civility whilst making their point. Except, that’s only the first problem I have with this so-called ‘Code’. I don’t believe that civility is a built in, default option type of situation. But, before I am absolutely dismissive, let me see what I should be doing here…

• Responsibility for our own words – Okay, that makes sense on the surface. One of the only things we really have control over in life is out own words, so there’s nothing ridiculously illogical about taking ownership of them. And yet, this point goes on to list all the ways in which a blogger will police their own comments section, which, if I’m not mistaken, consists primarily of other people’s words.
• Not saying anything online that we wouldn’t say in person – Well that’s a little ridiculous. I mean, most people use their blog to bitch about people and things that bother them in real life that they aren’t able to bitch about to those people. How can you vent about your work, your family, your friends, if it’s negative, and it’s to them? And sometimes objecting about something that has a mass following directly to that following is just plain stupid. Why would I decry Christianity actually in a church? Do I have a death wish?
• Connect Privately First – Okay, on the one hand, it makes sense if there’s been a lapse in communication, or a specific miscommunication, to clear things up. And it follows that sometimes, the clearing of the air might do better in a private one-on-one forum. But again, if someone takes you to task publicly, what right have they earned that you don’t correct them publicly as well? Balancing of the scales makes far more sense than allowing others to think you are wrong.
• Ignore the Trolls – If we’re going by a very literal definition, trolls are people who instigate specifically to cause shit. They want anger, and vitriol and spewed profanity. So, in this case, I can see ignoring people who don’t have any interest in actually arguing the topic at hand, but this point goes on to say completely ignoring all negative comments. Let’s be honest, to some of us (read, definitely me), dealing with the detractors is half the fun!
• No anonymous or pseudonymous comments – No link for this one, since little is on the page I found. The Wiki does state that anonymous comments are not encouraged, but posting under a cool nickname is fine — which is as I believe it should be. Besides, on your own blog, you always get the option to require an email address for posting comments, which I do. I also moderate comments from new posters, which gives me a lot of control over the xxx ads and the cheap drugs.

Most of the other points aren’t detailed in the Wiki, but they seem more straightforward. ‘Discretion to Delete Content’ – well, obviously. ‘Keep Our Source Private’ – I think that has more to do with journalists than bloggers.

My understanding is that the comments on the original concept originator don’t tend to respond too favourably to this Code, but I find it interesting that someone would even try to come up with some sort of control over the blogosphere. I mean, it’s sort of an anarchic newsletter spread net-wide. We’re drawn to it almost precisely because there are no rules. It’s open to all. We have our own Code, each of us.

Mine involves a lot of jokes about comic characters.

One would imagine that when and if you discovered your potential for something, you would then decide to build from your potential into a true talent, and real skill set that allowed you to utilize this as your career options. For example, you learn you have real potential as a painter, so you spend all your free time developing your painting ability, reading instructional art books, learning the techniques and tips to really hone your craft, so you can eventually make painting your career, and hopefully make a good living doing something you are skilled at, and, more importantly, something you love.

Of course, that is a great, idealistic view of things, and follows logically, with even a bit of math thrown in. 1 potential talent, multiplied by 100% effort to develop, should equal one awesome ability.

Okay, so, here’s where my problem lies. What happens if you show potential in multiple skills? That’s something that should make one happy, and proud, correct? Well, theoretically. But again, there’s the math part of the equation; If you have n amount of time to hone your talent, than no matter how you work the split — 50/50, 60/40, 90/10, whichever — you will still be left short of the 100% effort required to attain that "awesome ability" above.

Now, granted, maybe the skill involved can be developed at 90% effort. It’s not a perfect equation. But your total effort will always be split by how many "potential" talents you attempt to develop. And so you are left with two options: choose between your potential talents, possibly choosing one you have less actual potential in, and risk missing out on something you actually might be better at, or may love more; OR, split your focus between all your unrealized potential.

Whether or not I actually made a conscious choice, I find myself in the second scenario; I came to the conclusion long ago that I had the potential to do many things in life, and could not bear to let any potential talents go. Which makes me a pretty sloppy, amateur "jack of all trades". It is fairly scattered and sad. I have several writing projects either begun and stagnating, or unrealized in my skull. My drawing has been neglected for a while. I have been struggling to write a webcomic, since I feel I have something to offer. I’m an amateur bassist and singer in a band, which gets together quarterly, it feels, to record. I’m trying to start my own web design business to supplement my income. And my podcast has sadly been inactive since I decided I was never going to get the listener input I wanted.

I could go on.

My main problem, I think, is focus. But the question is, how does one decide on what to focus? How do you make a decision as to what will pan out, and what is a futile pipe dream? I plan on getting the podcast back up and going, in a new format. But does that just distract from more serious potential, or move myself forward in personal development?

I know, I know…there may not be an answer, but I needed to get the thought process out of my head, in order to make sure it wasn’t crazy. Any thoughts? Input at all? Either from the successes, or people in a similar position?

So, today I took my eight-year-old to see The Race to Witch Mountain, and I will say I was pleasantly surprised. I mean, I’ve been seeing horrible reviews for this movie all over the place, despite my abhorrence of reviews — I seem to stumble across them no matter what I do. I mean, my expectations were reasonably medium; this is a Disney family movie about aliens with big bangs and lightweight quips, starring a former wrestler who seems to be making a career of fluffy family movies now.

But it was a pleasant diversion. It was nice to watch “Dwayne Johnson” come up in the credits, considering how long he’s been tied to his wrestling character. I will be upfront — I am a huge fan of the Rock, both as a wrestler, and as an actor. He’s got a massive amount of charisma, and he has shown that it really doesn’t matter the level of the material he’s working with, his delivery of it is why he’s a star. I hate the stigma attached to pro wrestlers, and the natural assumption that they can’t act as well as any other Hollywood A-Lister; professional wrestling is a performance art, that melds acting and stunt work. Yeah, it’s cheesy acting that mostly consists of posturing in the most macho way possible, but the true greats, that inspire kids to become wrestling fans for years, are true entertainers, who make the whole cheese ball thing transcend its lowbrow image. Roddy Piper, Chris Jericho, Randy Savage, and current WWE superstar John Cena have all risen above the material, and I have always thought of Johnson as the top of the heap.

The rest of the movie was pretty much by the numbers. Evil government guy, bunch of henchmen (with Chris Marquette, of Just Friends and the upcoming Fanboys a pleasant surprise), and the obvious jokes about little green men and sci-fi nerds. I liked seeing The Guild’s Vork in a small role. Garry Marshall wasn’t really needed, and Tom Everett Scott was pretty wasted in his role. I was happy to see Cheech, but also didn’t see the need for such a recognizable actor to be in such a tiny role.

But the interplay between the kids and Johnson was the real highlight of the movie. I bought the interaction. I actually saw why they would need him, despite other reviews mentioning how overpowered the kids were, since it was basically a low powered telepath/telekinetic, and what appeared to be the Vision’s density control powers. Nothing that would save them from a nice laser blast, or being captured by the government. I liked the nods to the earlier movie with the RV, but again, other than the Rock and the kids, this wasn’t a fantastic movie.

However, I will mention that my favourite part of the movie was a great nod to a previous Disney movie, and I love that the reference was there; a TV report of the initial spaceship crash featured a reporter played by Meredith Salinger, who I will admit I had a huge crush on as a teenager, enough to go back and watch all her movies, including her Disney outing, which was the clever shout out here — when she signed off as “Reporter Natalie Gann”. Nice, Disney. Like it.

I would recommend this movie to fans of Dwayne Johnson, or anyone with kids between 8 and 12. My daughter loved it, but she was clinging to my arm in quite a few action-packed scenes. Nothing objectionable in the movie, which is a nice change for the movies she likes.