September 26, 2004 14:55Intolerable Intolerance
Enter just about anything into a search engine and you can come up with porn. It's happened to all of us, much to our chagrin or delight, depending on our mood or morality of the moment. You might go looking for My Little Pony merchandise and end up with photos of crack whores sucking off a mule. We know that shit's out there, but it can catch us off guard when it shows up on our screen unexpectedly. Sometimes these surprises can go beyond simple porn.
I'd never been to a white supremacist web site before. But I got directed to one after a perfectly innocent research query in Google produced what I thought sounded like a promising discussion thread. I nearly made it all the way through one post before I said, "Wait a minute… This isn't your usual garden-variety, knuckle-dragging, internet-forum hate rant." Most anonymous posters out there these days seem to want anyone who disagrees with them to drop dead. These guys would like to see everyone else dead too. Just to be safe.
I couldn't resist the urge to read what pearls of wisdom such great intellects had to offer about current events and the state of the world today. But any thoughts I had about checking out a political message board got completely sidetracked when I saw the movie forum. How could I resist? At least it's a topic I know something about.
Or at least I thought it did. It seems these guys appreciate cinema on a whole new level that never even occurred to me.
I didn't realize, for instance, that Resident Evil: Apocalypse was a race-issue film, nor that Cameron Diaz can grudgingly be referred to as white, even though she's not technically a 100% pure member of the Aryan race. Hell, I didn't even realize that John Wayne was such a riddle wrapped in an enigma for having small feet and a penchant for Asian women. Thanks Hitler-lovin', gay-bashin', Bush-votin', middle-American, white-dude douche-bags! I feel all enlightened now. Praise Jesus!
Wait, wasn't he a Jew? Then fuck him.
Goosestep on over here if you want to know which movies currently playing are safe to take your precious white babies to.
In other news, Scott Taylor (as mentioned in my last entry) has written an account of his ordeal, confirming my opinion that Iraq is the number one vacation hotspot in the world today. Screw Disneyland. Book your ticket on the next crusade shipping off to this sunny Middle East dream destination. If you want thrills and chills, The Haunted Mansion and Space Mountain have nothing on multiple near-executions as you're shuttled between enraged groups of martyr-mania insurgents. Make your reservation now and receive a free return airport taxi ride for you or your severed head. Luggage is extra.
September 14, 2004 00:29This Might Have Been An Obituary
December 1998: I was riding Via Rail's trans-continental line back home after a month-long trip to B.C. during which I had climbed a mountain, strolled through a rain forest, got engaged, and nearly been devoured by the lowlife scum of Vancouver's shithole quarter. Typical vacation antics all.
Holed up alternately in our sleeper car or the observation deck, socializing was imposed on my new fiancée and myself come meal time. With limited seating in the dining car, we found ourselves paired up with other travelers on each occasion we sat down to eat. It was through these place-setting arrangements that I ended up in conversation with Scott Taylor several times throughout the three-day journey.
A military journalist for Esprit de Corps, Scott travels the world covering international conflicts and internal issues usually related to Canada's own anemic armed forces. I've caught his appearances on various news shows on half a dozen occasions since meeting him, and I've watched him offer his analysis of Canadian military affairs as the various networks' semi-official go-to guy whenever the often-ignored subject cracks a headline. He was particularly in evidence around the time of the Somalia torture scandal, back when this sort of thing was a hot topic of discussion in our country, several years before the U.S. military would step up to the plate and show the world how to commit war crimes with real pizzazz. On the air, he's earnest, even stoic, approaching topics that are serious and often contentious with all due respect. In person he's a card, a constant joker, a personable life-of-the-party.
I'm sure he has no recollection of me, but I remember him well. And I was reminded of him again only yesterday morning when my clock radio woke me up with news that he had just been released after days of being beaten and tortured in Iraq. It turns out that by the time anyone really knew he was being held by insurgents and being threatened with decapitation come Friday, he'd already managed to convince his captors that he was a Canadian journalist and not an Israeli spy after all. He's still recovering from his injuries, but is expected home in a matter of days.
Aside from my habit of shameless name-dropping, I can't think of a reason in the world for me to mention this here, other than to say I'm glad to hear he survived the ordeal, even if I got the news he was alright with two seconds of finding out he'd been in mortal peril in the first place.
You can read what Scott had to say about the Iraqi morass in this interview from last year.