the daily snivel

  All hail the Hypno-toad!

I could watch this for hours.


-- So says Rob, the Futurama fan who's still at the Legal Clinic at 10:37 pm on a Friday night. 

  They like me! They really like me!

I was thrilled to get the word today that I have been awarded the Clarey B. Sproule Award for my work here at the University of Ottawa Community Legal Clinic. I'm sharing it with another deserving caseworker, and I have to say that it's a really great shot in ther arm. I feel like maybe I am doing some good here and that I've earned a reputation for working hard and giving a lot of myself. In my darker moments, I don't always see this, so it's a true honour to have received this award (and the not insignificant cash bursary that comes along with it).

And now back to all that hard work that got me here in the first place... 

  Jesus is just alright with me

An excellent commentary by a Jesuit priest to tide you over while I work on my closing arguments:

Last September, I spoke to some 2,000 students during their annual lecture at a Baptist college in Pennsylvania. After a short prayer service for peace centered on the Beatitudes, I took the stage and got right to the point. “Now let me get this straight,” I said. “Jesus says, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers,’ which means he does not say, ‘Blessed are the warmakers,’ which means, the warmakers are not blessed, which means warmakers are cursed, which means, if you want to follow the nonviolent Jesus you have to work for peace, which means, we all have to resist this horrific, evil war on the people of Iraq.”

With that, the place exploded, and 500 students stormed out. The rest of them then started chanting, “Bush! Bush! Bush!”

So much for my speech. Not to mention the Beatitudes.

I was not at all surprised that George W. Bush was reelected president. As I travel the country speaking out against war, injustice and nuclear weapons, I see many people consciously siding with the culture of war, choosing the path of violence, supporting corporate greed, rampant militarism, and global domination. I see many others swept up in the raging current of patriotism. Since most of these people, beginning with the president, claim to be Christian, I am ashamed and appalled that they support war and systemic injustice, that they do it in the name of God, and that they feign fidelity to the nonviolent Jesus who gave his life resisting institutionalized injustice.

***

I used to think these all-American Christians never read the Gospel, that they simply chose not to be authentic disciples of the nonviolent Jesus. Now, alas, I think they have indeed chosen discipleship, but not to the hero of the Gospels, Jesus. Instead, through their actions, they have become disciples of the devout, religious, all-powerful, murderous Pharisees who killed him.

 

  Cross-examination is hard

Someday, I'm sure, I'll be a fantastic and devastating person to confront in a cross-examination (which is the series of leading questions that you relentlessly disintegrate the witness for the other side with), but until that wonderful era 5 or 10 years of criminal practice hence, I'm still learning.

For instance, you'd be surprised how difficult it is to get someone to say "You're darn RIGHT I'm a dirty liar! And I'd do it again!"

I'm still preparing for my trial, which runs early next week, and figuring out how to devastate the other side's witnesses with sufficient poise, subtlety and insight that they don't see it coming until it's too late. After all, you're effectively building traps for people with words, gradually edging in closer and closer as they agree to seemingly reasonable propositions until the trap springs and they're caught agreeing to something they never would have admitted before.

Now, there's still an awfully good chance the trial will settle (we still have a great deal on the table), but the pieces that should have been in place by now still aren't, so here we are.

So that's where I am right now. Still at the Clinic at 8:pm on a Thurssday night, with a bandage on my finger from the blister I got from turning so many pages.

Have fun without me, world. 

  Happy Ritualized, and Therefore Hollow, Expression of Love Day

Perhaps it's true that those who fear and loathe Valentine's Day the most are the single, forgotten ones like me, but this doesn't make my disdain any less fervent. It's that magical day of the year when the vast machinery of corporate mammon and social expectations trembles at the redline in celebrating the sweet nothings and contrived platitudes of this thing you humans call "wuv." There's no more poignant reminder of solitude or dissatisfaction to be found. Heck, even those in relationships are under pressure to live up to expectations and wow 'em with a big routine proving their love for another year.

And it's at this point on St. Valentine's Day that I normally self-medicate with chocolate and all would be well.

Now, don't you fret none, I'm just a little tired and grouchy this year. Normally, of course, I express my feelings for my near and dear friends with the distribution of valentines and chocolate, just like we did in grade school, but I don't have the time or money this year. I adore the old punch-out valentines from childhood, that have terrible puns (like on the Simpsons: "I choo-choo-choose you") and syrupy illustrations, and in fact my dear friend Natalie just sent me a package of vintage cards she found somewhere, including the silly and sweet ones above ("Let-tuce be valentines," and there's a picture of a head of lettuce with come-hither eyes) as well as some great vintage cards from 1984 with Return of the Jedi characters, including one with Darth Vader and two Imperial Guards with the festive "Have a happy Valentine's Day... Or Else."

What one must always remember is that it's the other 364 days of the year that are truly important to demonstrating one's affection for another person, and if you can manage to do that, there's no reason to put on a production for February 14 at all (except insofar as it's one of those days you remember to make the people you love feel important to you). Most of the people I know, in relationships and out of them, live by this principle and it seems to create a lot more happiness than going all out just because it's the time of year that you're supposed to do such things. Tonight after finishing my work and hitting the gym, I'm going to have a quiet evening at home with a good friend and a good cat, and feel lucky to have the friends and memories I do.

But I must confess, an awful lot of my friends are settling down, pairing up, and getting married these days. I ran into a friend from high school last week and she updated me on who (in the 10 intervening years) has gotten married, who has kids now, and who is engaged. My pal Jason, now living in Toronto, is getting married this summer, and my best friend Mike is getting married in August as well. Most of my friends are in relationships, and you start feeling a bit left out. And, well, lonely. And at the same time, I'm not really in a position to meet new people. I'm still getting into shape at the gym, I practically live at the legal clinic, and I'm moving to Toronto in the summer anyway. Even if anybody wanted to go out with me (and that's a doubtful situation given the, cough, fantastic response I've found in my periodic dalliances through on-line dating sites), I have neither time nor the ability to offer much past August, when I move away for at least a year.

But, oh, when you're alone at night, even a tiny twin bed feels awfully empty.

So, where's this rambly tale of woe and vitriol going? I'm not sure. But here's my prescription: if you love someone, let them know. Not just tonight, but continually. Chocolate, flowers, back rubs, and smooching are bitter things indeed on Valentine's Day if you don't give them and get them throughout the year.