Those who live outside Canada – and those who are not Canadians – may very well not even get this allusion – let alone understand why The Girl and I fell about laughing at its subject. For completeness, this is a sign at the entrance to a pedestrian stairway down into an underground car park at Uptown here in Victoria.
Now – just in case there are any who feel left in the dark by this enigmatic epistle – here is a handy explanation that should clear up any confusion:
Enjoy!
Hope is a feeling that life and work have meaning. You either have it or you don’t, regardless of the state of the world that surrounds you.
Vaclav Havel
I rarely write about politics these days on this blog. That was not always the case. I used to resort to so doing when either I felt the need to poke fun at the ridiculous antics of the political classes, or because I was yet again incensed by some of the malicious, criminal or just downright foolish actions perpetrated by those who we had (misguidedly) elected to serve as our representatives in parliaments and other official bodies.
The reason for ceasing so doing was because things have changed for the considerably worse on this blue/green planet – the political mechanisms of which appear nowadays to have been taken over by lunatics, maniacs and the criminally insane; who jointly and separately appear to be trying their best to destroy human civilization.
Once upon a time is was possible not only to mock the incompetent and the inept – along with calling out the wicked and misguided – but also on occasion to praise the words or actions of one of the few politicians who might possibly have deserved the title of ‘statesman’ (or ‘stateswoman’). It has been a considerably while now since this last was possible or indeed accurate.
Last week two very different national leaders – representing two very different nations – addressed the annual World Economic Forum at Davos. One was the Canadian prime minister – Mark Carney – and the other was… well – gentle readers will need no reminding of who the other was.
Have you not done so (and I would urge everyone to take a deep breath, hold your nose and make the effort) these two speeches really should be closely compared. I am not going to go into the details of either, but I will just say I thank whatever gods there may be that I am a citizen of at least one country that has as its leader a figure that can actually be respected. We do – thank goodness – have an adult in the room!
Here is a link to Carney’s speech in full. I urge you to watch it.
Tags: Canada, incompetence, Modern life, Politics
Those who follow these meanderings by gracing the occasional e-mail digest with their precious attention (as apposed to just clicking on ‘delete’) may have been puzzled over the last two days to receive what might at a quick glance have appeared to be the same posting in duplicate.
A closer look would have revealed that the first version to arrive appeared to be strangely incomplete, as well as terminating somewhat abruptly. In this case the obvious explanation is clearly the correct one. I hit ‘publish’ accidentally and prematurely – but was unaware that I had so done until the arrival of the first draft alerted me to the fact.
Should you wish to catch up with the completed missive please do focus on the second email or follow this link in your browser.follow this link in your browser.
My apologies for the inconvenience…
Tags: incompetence
“Everything happens kind of the way it’s supposed to happen, and we just watch it unfold. And you can’t control it. Looking back, you can’t say, ‘I should’ve… ‘ You didn’t, and had you, the outcome would have been different”.
Rick Rubin
Ok – it’s that time of year again. Time to look back at the year just gone – reviewing the aims and ambitions that we set ourselves for it – and to effect a reckoning thereof.
Once that task has been accomplished I will post another missive containing some thoughts about the coming year. No – we don’t make resolutions for the New Year – but we do try to identify some of those 2things that we hope and intend to achieve.
At around this time last year, I wrote the following (with updates on our progress in red):
“Though our 2024 turned out to be better than anticipated, for the rest of the world it could well be argued that the year took a dramatically retrograde turn. We are, naturally, not immune to these external pressures and it may prove – as a result – that 2025 turns out to be the quiet – heads-down – dig-in – sort of year that we might have expected last time around.
Well – there was a certain amount of ‘digging in’ in 2025 – though perhaps less than there might have been. However, the fact that The Girl and I finally found ourselves (involuntarily) retired did lead us to spend a significant amount of time testing the boundaries (financial and otherwise) of our new situation. Let’s face it, we had actually come to Canada to be retired, so the fact that it took us a full decade to achieve that status might seem a bit of a bloomin’ miracle. Moving on…
These things, however, we are anticipating:
We duly got our week in the sun – at a rather lovely resort too. Given that we were both in the process of becoming retired this was most welcome. The fact that I had had something of a health scare at the start of the year too, the sun drenched peace and quiet was a great boon.
Maintenance was done; a new hot water tank installed; the roof de-mossed; a significant start on down-sizing our clutter was begun… We also had a new roof put on our garden shed (shop) – but the underfloor heating in the studio has had to wait until we have a clearer picture on financial matters.
We did indeed get to see friends, with the additional boon of us getting an excursion to the Rockies and a trip on viaRail into the bargain. This turned out to be an excellent adventure and significant memories were made (photos and reports of this expedition were posted to this journal during July, August and September).
There is news on the music-making front, but I will post separately in that regard in a little while. I am indeed serving a term on the executive of the Peninsula Players – and I was closely involved with the 2026 pantomime – for which I re-assumed my Musical Director role.
I am delighted to report that we were indeed able to spend more time in our garden – and I believe that we were suitably entertaining.
Coming soon – our plans for 2026…
It seems that the majority of posts to this journal for December feature photographs taken at and around Island View beach here on the Saanich Peninsula. In part this abundance is because Island View is a particularly good place to walk in winter, but also because it is photogenic and constantly changing with the weather. This latest batch of images were taken on a day when the wind was seasonably bitter and gusting strongly from the south east. The Haro Strait rarely sees breakers (not behind Sidney and James islands at any rate) but this was an exception. One could easily appreciate how so many fallen (or felled) trees could end up being tossed onto the shore:
Now – for me this sort of day calls for a brisk walk and then to scurry back into the warmth of our safe abode – where we can hunker down and day-dream about sun-bathed beaches in the distant south. Not so for these dudes:
Respect!
Tags: Island View Beach, Walk, Weather, wind
For many young men growing up in Europe during the 60s and 70s Brigitte Bardot represented the epitome of sensual womanhood… long before most of us knew what that actually meant. For some – such as I – her recent passing might have introduced to us a fresh perspective on a complex life lived under the fierce glare the of the media attention that we could not hope to recognise or comprehend.
Brigitte’s later commitment to animal welfare might not have come as a surprise but many will have found her pandering to the French far right a far cry from the libertine image that had been (willingly or otherwise) constructed around her younger self.
Well – the sixties might seem (and indeed be) a long time ago, but there will be others like me who mourn the passing of an icon from our adolescent years that – for better or worse – made the world seem like a more thrilling and sensual place. Our fantasies might have been impossible, but at the time it felt as though the impossible might just – after all – be possible!
Rest in peace
Tags: Bigitte Bardot, Film, Loss, Memories, RIP
…to friends, acquaintances and gentle readers…
…from the Kickass Canada Girl and the Imperceptible Immigrant…
we wish you a safe and peaceful Christmas and a Happy Hogmany!
As is my habit, here be some Chistmassy images from the Pacific north west; specifically from the splendid home that I am fortunate enough to share with The Girl.
Tags: Celebration, Christmas, Photo
“Late afternoon on the West Coast ends with the sky doing all its brilliant stuff”
Joan Didion
Last time out I posted a cluster of images of the driftwood that accumulates above the strand line on our beaches here on Vancouver Island – and of the structures that our fellow humans feel compelled to build using it.
I thought I might now just add a few further photographs taken on the same sunny walk. The motivation so to do is in part the fact that the weather has comprised nothing but rain since that most pleasant day and I would like to be able to contemplate other more cheerful moods.
We are well into December now and the year seems to be rushing away as though trying desperately to escape. Given the grim happenings of the passed twelve months that is perhaps no surprise. Indeed it may even be no bad thing.
Here on the west coast of Canada the weather is also doing its best wash away all of the horribleness – with a forecast for the foreseeable future featuring rain, rain, rain and even more rain.
As a result the occasional sunny days seem to be even more of a gift than usual – and we are sure to make the most of them. Here we walk along Island View Beach – above the strandline – marvelling at the huge logs that have been thrown up along the shore by the extra high tides.
Not only are these ocean-worn monoliths strangely beautiful in their own right, but it also seems that folks cannot resist the temptation to erect makeshift monuments from this un-looked for bounty on the beaches.
I thought that the gentle reader might perhaps like to peruse a few images of these driftwood dreams:
Those who are no strangers to rambling the raggle-taggle byways of this eclectic journal will doubtless have observed that I am in the habit of marking the passing of those who have – through their words, works or actions – had a significant impact upon my life and consciousness. For example, when Brian Wilson passed away earlier this year I wrote the following:
“Whenever I post one of these messages lamenting the loss of one of the great figures of my (or the adjacent) generation(s) I do so with sadness but also with gratitude for their influence as ‘hero’ figures throughout my formative years. My aim is to compose something that captures their personal importance for me. Sometimes, however, no words can be found that are truly capable of expressing the extent of the loss”.
That being said, until yesterday I had not experienced (since starting this blog back in 2012) the passing of one of the truly paramount figures that I have followed, whose influence has been as hard to calculate as their loss is impossible to comprehend. Some of our heroes just feel as though they ought to be immortal. Since hearing the news yesterday of the death of Sir Tom Stoppard the only term that I can think of that comes close to capturing my feelings on the scale of the loss of is ‘devastated’.
I first encountered the works of Sir Tom Stoppard – England’s preeminent playwright for considerably more than half a century – back in the mid 1960s. Tom’s breakthrough play – ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead’ was premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe in 1966 and at the Old Vic in London in 1967. Faber and Faber published a playscript of the work in 1967 and I came across it in the senior school library at my grammar school when I joined the seniors back in 1968 or 1969.
I had never read anything like ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern‘ and it completely changed my then ingenuous view of what theatre could do and what it might be. Tom was a brilliant thinker and writer and had the facility of approaching difficult subjects in ways that gave the impression that the ideas concerned were much simpler than they in fact were. He dealt with intellectual topics with humour and a lightness of touch that carried audiences with him. Amongst his many awards his Oscar for the brilliant screenplay of the timeless ‘Shakespeare in Love’ was well deserved.
in addition to reading and attending performances of just about all of his plays, I have directed a number of them myself, including The Real Inspector Hound, Every Good Boy Deserves Favour and The Real Thing. I would have loved to have directed ‘Arcadia’ – perhaps his masterpiece.
I was fortunate enough to have met Sir Tom twice – at first night receptions for ‘Indian Ink’ and for ‘The Invention of Love’. On the second occasion – reinforcing the belief that one perhaps might best not meet one’s heroes – I embarrassed us both by declaring that I considered him to be a genius.
I am finding it really difficult to contemplate a world in which Sir Tom Stoppard is no longer living and working. A precious light has gone out.
Rest in peace Sir Tom.
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