A Friendly Reminder

I received a picture from the wife of my good friend Zanstorm (of Waiting for Stanley fame). I've decided to spruce it up a little, as it seems my buddy has forgotten what country he is a citizen of. For some unbeknownst reason, Zanstorm has this quasi-love affiar with Russian hockey. From Kharlamov, to Tretiak, to Bure, to Mogilny, to Ovechkin: It's All Russia, All The Time with him lately. Normally I would dissociate myself from anyone who would commit such treasonous and treacherous acts against their country. And by rights, the original scandalous photo below contained so much vile and offensive material, that viewer discretion really should be advised. For him to be seen in this loathsome and reprehensible jersey really is beyond the pale. However, I still feel a kinship with the poor miserable sop, and as much as it irritates me, it is my obligation to at least try to steer him back on the straight and narrow path. Having said all of that, I present to you all a photoshopping portrait of beauty. Despite the filth of "CCCP" in the middle, the photo has been redeemed by three heroes of '72 (and one miserable failure of a goaltender, pictured bottom right). The final score of game 8 was 6-5 for Canada.




















Never Forget!

O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!

From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

Sunday Dreaming

Someday.

For Melissa

Cat Lake, Ontario. Where crazy, spontaneous people go when they have an opportunity to help and serve others.


















Apparently, there are no cats there. Better pictures can be found here.

Man, does Google Earth need an update, or what?

Temujin Bloviates!

The comment thread to my preterest rebuttal of Misha post has garnered some interest.

The conversation continues in the same vein at the High Places. Shane has been nice enough to humour me on this one. He's no slouch when it comes to the Bible either, so you'd do well to head on over to his place and check out more of what he has to say in his comments.

Once you finished here, though!

Random Simpson's Quote

The other day I was so desperate for a beer, I snuck into the football stadium and ate the dirt under the bleachers.

And realistically, what more needs to be said?

Stanley Cup Ring to Samantha Burns.

Blogathon

I should be whipped and beaten for not mentioning this before, but one of my favourite hockey bloggers, Alanah Downie, is participating in the 2006 Blogathon!

Her charity of choice is the Canucks Place Children’s Hospice - an extremely worthy charity that does some pretty amazing work with kids. Those little ones have been dealt a rough hand, a hand they surely do not deserve. Canuck Place makes a difference in their lives.

I'm pledging fifty bucks - essentially two bucks for every hour Alanah will be blogging. Seems entirely inadequate considering who it is going to. Basically what it amount to is no beer for me this weekend.

Poor me. {/end sarcasm}

Even if you can't donate, be sure to pop in on Alanah this Saturday and see how she is doing.

Broken Covenant

Preface: this started out as a simple attempt at correcting a theological error that is rampant amongst Christians today. But it turned into a bit more than I bargained for. If you are not spiritually inclined, this will bore the heck out of you. But if you are so inclined, feel free to respond. It is a controversial subject to be sure. I've gotten into it with many of my church-going friends

Normally I enjoy the ranting and raving of Misha at the Rottie, but his understanding of the New Covenant, and his Biblical hermeneutic in general, is sadly lacking.

Via LC & IB Dave from Israellycool whom you should read daily for hourly updates of the war.

Greek Orthodox Church says Israel should fear `wrath of God` for Lebanon deaths (AP)

That’s a rather unorthodox interpretation of the Bible, don’t you think?

We turn to Gen. 12:3

I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses you.

You’d expect an entity that calls itself a “church” would at least be passingly familiar with the FIRST BOOK OF THE BIBLE and the Covenant between G-d and Israel, wouldn’t you?

Here we have a first class example of taking verses and applying them where they are not applicable. Misha does not take into account the Bible as a whole, but focuses on the words of one passage (albeit a very important one) without regard for the rest of scripture.

Yes, God promised to bless Abraham's offspring. Yes, He fulfills His promises. Yes, He is faithful to His people. We have the entire Bible that declares just how faithful God was to them, despite their rebellion. But the Old Covenant was a conditional covenant:

14 "Now I am about to go the way of all the earth. You know with all your heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the LORD your God gave you has failed. Every promise has been fulfilled; not one has failed. 15 But just as every good promise of the LORD your God has come true, so the LORD will bring on you all the evil he has threatened, until he has destroyed you from this good land he has given you. 16 If you violate the covenant of the LORD your God, which he commanded you, and go and serve other gods and bow down to them, the LORD's anger will burn against you, and you will quickly perish from the good land he has given you."

1 Then Joshua assembled all the tribes of Israel at Shechem. He summoned the elders, leaders, judges and officials of Israel, and they presented themselves before God.

2 Joshua said to all the people, "This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'Long ago your forefathers, including Terah the father of Abraham and Nahor, lived beyond the River [a] and worshiped other gods. 3 But I took your father Abraham from the land beyond the River and led him throughout Canaan and gave him many descendants. I gave him Isaac, 4 and to Isaac I gave Jacob and Esau. I assigned the hill country of Seir to Esau, but Jacob and his sons went down to Egypt.

5 " 'Then I sent Moses and Aaron, and I afflicted the Egyptians by what I did there, and I brought you out. 6 When I brought your fathers out of Egypt, you came to the sea, and the Egyptians pursued them with chariots and horsemen [b] as far as the Red Sea. [c] 7 But they cried to the LORD for help, and he put darkness between you and the Egyptians; he brought the sea over them and covered them. You saw with your own eyes what I did to the Egyptians. Then you lived in the desert for a long time.

8 " 'I brought you to the land of the Amorites who lived east of the Jordan. They fought against you, but I gave them into your hands. I destroyed them from before you, and you took possession of their land. 9 When Balak son of Zippor, the king of Moab, prepared to fight against Israel, he sent for Balaam son of Beor to put a curse on you. 10 But I would not listen to Balaam, so he blessed you again and again, and I delivered you out of his hand.

11 " 'Then you crossed the Jordan and came to Jericho. The citizens of Jericho fought against you, as did also the Amorites, Perizzites, Canaanites, Hittites, Girgashites, Hivites and Jebusites, but I gave them into your hands. 12 I sent the hornet ahead of you, which drove them out before you—also the two Amorite kings. You did not do it with your own sword and bow. 13 So I gave you a land on which you did not toil and cities you did not build; and you live in them and eat from vineyards and olive groves that you did not plant.'

14 "Now fear the LORD and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your forefathers worshiped beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the LORD. 15 But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD."

16 Then the people answered, "Far be it from us to forsake the LORD to serve other gods! 17 It was the LORD our God himself who brought us and our fathers up out of Egypt, from that land of slavery, and performed those great signs before our eyes. He protected us on our entire journey and among all the nations through which we traveled. 18 And the LORD drove out before us all the nations, including the Amorites, who lived in the land. We too will serve the LORD, because he is our God."

19 Joshua said to the people, "You are not able to serve the LORD. He is a holy God; he is a jealous God. He will not forgive your rebellion and your sins. 20 If you forsake the LORD and serve foreign gods, he will turn and bring disaster on you and make an end of you, after he has been good to you."

God's promise to Abraham was fulfilled. It was fulfilled in Joshua's time. But as you continue to read the Old Testamant, it becomes clear that the geographical nation of Israel, and the Jews who inhabited it, were not willing to be faithful to their Lord. Their sins still covered them, in spite of God's provisions to them. They were a vile, evil, rebellious people who were punished by God repeatedly for their wickedness. And yet God, in His infinite mercy and grace, provided a sacrifice, a Saviour, a once-for-all-time Lamb, Prophet, Priest, and King - first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. And in that Saviour, Jesus Christ, is the fulfillment of all things.

God still blesses Israel today. I firmly believe that. But spiritual Israel is not a geographical location. It is not a kingdom or a democratically elected republic. It is not parlimentary democracy or a system of proportional representation. You cannot find it on a map, because it is a nation without borders. The New Israel; indeed, the New Jerusalem, is not a nation with external boundaries and border crossings. The New Israel consists of people who have the everlasting peace and joy of Jesus Christ. We are not bound by man, we are a nation of people whose hearts and minds are in Christ. The rule and reign of God in the lives of those who are His.

I support Israel, but not because they are the chosen people of God. It may very well be that some of the Israelis living today can trace their roots back to Abraham, but it seems inappropriate to call them "Hebrews" or "Jews". Jewish people follow the commandments of their God. They worship God in His Temple, because according to the Old Testament, that is the place where God's presence dwells. They have their sins atoned for by a High Priest, who enters the Holy of Holies in the Temple and offers a sacrifice for the people. But none of that occurs today. When the temple was destroyed, centuries worth of genelogical data was lost. Can anyone prove they are the physical offspring of Abraham? The very essence of Judaism... the thing that makes a person a Jew, has been lost for two millenia. The follower of Judaism is essentially hopeless. He can never say his sins are forgiven, because there is no way to fulfill the commands of God regarding the removal of sin.

And yet I do support Israel. I support their work fighting terrorism because the terrorists they are fighting are barbarians. They are the cultural equivalent of cavemen. Israel is also a democracy, and is a relatively free place to live.

But the inhabitants of geographical Israel cannot rightly be called the chosen people of God. The blessings of Abraham cannot rightly be applied to them.

Red Ensign Standard #44

So you've heard about this Red Ensign Brigade, you've seen the flags on various blogs in cyberspace, and you wanna know what it's all about?

A good start would be to head on over to Quotulatiousness and read the latest edition of the Standard, our bi-monthly (give or take) round-up. Nicolas has compiled a number of links that Brigade members have submitted, and it will give you a sample of what folks in the Brigade are blogging about. I happen to think we're the most fascinating, intelligent, unique and diverse group of patriots in the Blogosphere, but of course I'm a wee bit biased. I also think that I am in extraordinary company, and feel quite privileged to be a part of such a group.

So go read the the 44th edition of the Red Ensign Standard. Click some links, read some posts, write some comments.

And go thank Nick for putting it all together.

Let Him Wear It

As if my little tirade last night didn't get my blood pressure rising enough, I come home from work today and read this:

To summarize: (Victoria Cross winner - ed.) Tulbahadur Pun donated his medal to the Museum in the 1970s. Now 89 years of age and too unwell to travel he has asked the Museum if he might borrow his own medal so he can wear it one last time. The Museum has refused. There are no words.

Flea is almost correct when saying "there are no words". I can think of a few words. Indeed, I can think of more than a few, but none of them have any place on my family-friendly blog.

How dare they refuse this hero his one dying wish. Read the words that recount his heroics, and weep:

Rifleman Tulbahadur Pun then seized the Bren Gun, and firing from the hip as he went, continued the charge on this heavily bunkered position alone, in the face of the most shattering concentration of automatic fire, directed straight at him. With the dawn coming up behind him, he presented a perfect target to the Japanese. He had to move for thirty yards over open ground, ankle deep in mud, through shell holes and over fallen trees.

Despite these overwhelming odds, he reached the Red House and closed with the Japanese occupations. He killed three and put five more to flight and captured two light machine guns and much ammunition. He then gave accurate supporting fire from the bunker to the remainder of his platoon which enabled them to reach their objective.

His outstanding courage and superb gallantry in the face of odds which meant almost certain death were most inspiring to all ranks and beyond praise.

He will rest in peace one day, and that's a fact. But if he is not allowed to wear his medal one last time, that museum curator will certainly not. The bastard.

...on a Pogo Stick!

Warning: Extreme Bad Taste Alert! Coarse Language, Discretion Advised!
You have been warned!

I went out to the Alpenhorn Pub with a few friends of mine from Central Mountain Air. The evening started off fine enough, with a few drinks, a few laughs, and a few good conversations. But, on a personal note, the evening turned to complete shit when, to my horror, several former classmates of mine walked in.

Can I say: Ten Year Reunion? Don't mind if I do!

I had heard this weekend was the big get-together, but I had removed it from my thought pattern because I had no desire to attend, and no desire to see anyone. Imagine my shock when the reunion was forced into my skull by circumstances completely beyond my control.

I didn't exactly enjoy high school; actually, that's putting it mildly. I fucking hated almost every second of it. I had very few friends in my grade. As a result, I have always thought it would have been better if I had been born five years earlier, or five years later, since most of my frends fall into those categories.

There is no desire on my part to be involved in any of the festivities. I will not attend the big bash tomorrow.

Tonight I saw several faces that, if I had the capability in 1996, I would have loved to have wiped the smirk off their fucking dumb-ass faces. Permanently.

It seems more and more to me that the whole notion of people getting together after ten years is a shit-show. "Look what I'm doing!" "Look who I'm married to!" "Look what city I'm living in!"

I Don't Care.
I. Don't. Fucking. Care.
Not One Iota.

None of those people gave a rat's ass about me ten years ago, so I sure as shit am not going to give a rat's ass about them today.
It doesn't matter to me if you work at Huckleberry Mine. Gee, like NOBODIES EVER FUCKING DONE THAT BEFORE!

It doesn't matter to me that you have a "hot" girlfriend/wife. LIKE NOBODY ELSE HAS A "HOT" GIRLFRIEND/WIFE!

It doesn't matter to me if you make more money then me.
LIKE NOBODY MAKES MORE MONEY THAN ME!

I just don't care enough to even make the attempt to befriend these people, even ten years after we graduated "together". Who are they, anyways? They are just people. There are fifty kerbillion of them out there. They are not special to me.

I enjoy my life. I really, really enjoy it. I've got fantastic friends (none of whom I graduated with). I've got a nice job that pays me enough to drink a few beers and have a few good times and lets me get home by 5:00pm on most occasions. I'm single and free and involved with whomever I damned well please, whenever I damned well please.

And I don't need a ten year reunion to remind me of how much I hated high school. And how much I used to hate life.

My life is way too damned short for that shit. I will have no part of it. I'm going forward, damnit, not looking behind.

F.E.T.E. (Fuck 'Em, The End)

Post-script: I did get to chat with a a guy I'd almost consider a friend from H.S. He recognized me right away, which is shocking since I haven't seen him in at least eight years. He's doing quite well for himself, living in Prince Rupert while working on the new container port. Married to a lady that is living in Vernon, 16 hours away... dang, that must suck....

Perhaps my evening wasn't all bad. But I still stand by what I said.

A nice place to visit...

Welcome to sunny, fabulous Beirut! The tourism industry is booming in this port town of Lebanon! Indeed, you can hear the fireworks from Damascus on a nightly basis! The party has no end in sight!

What to do in Beirut? Well for starters, your plane will land at their state of the art airport:

From there, you will be whisked away in a limosine to the beach:



















After your casual walk along the beach, you can head to the marina, rent a boat, and cruise the open waters of the Mediterranean:


















After that, head downtown and view the beautiful architecture of the city:


















Finally, you can take in a soccer game at the local stadium:

















This fantastic vacation can be yours now, but don't delay! Book your holiday today!
With images like those, you'll forget there is even a silly ol' war going on.
















Be sure to ask about our 25% off vouchers for Hezbollah members!

Lisa Bula

My friend Zanstorm has put together a nifty little hockey blog. He's still working out a few kinks and such, but it looks like he'll be rivalling BoA, BoO, and VCOE pretty quickly.

Apart from the hockey talk, he's also posted a nice memoriam to a friend of ours, Lisa Bula. She left this world far too soon, but she also left an impact that will be felt for a very long time.

Go check out Waiting for Stanley, and feel free to leave a comment telling Zanstorm how lacklustre his hockey knowledge truly is.

The Spirit of Northern British Columbia

Ursus Americanus Kermodei





As always, click the pictures to enlarge. These photos were taken 65 kilometres north of Highway 16 on Highway 37, near Kitwanga. My dad passed them along to me a couple of days ago. The Kermode, or Spirit, bear is thought to be a genetic variant of the black bear. Though their exact numbers are unknown, it is estimated that there are as many as 1200 of them roaming north central British Columbia.

White coat Kermode bears are found most frequently on Gribbell Island and Princess Royal Island, situated between the coastal mainland and the Queen Charlotte Islands. Scientists believe there is such a high concentration of the white coat Kermode bears on these islands because they are geographically isolated from other black bear populations.

Although I'm about the most pro-industry and anti-hippy person you'll find, I must admit to being pleased about the steps taken by the provincial government to protect the Spirit Bear. Although the bears were not the main reason behind the desire to create this preserve, it is a definite benefit of the agreement. From the National Geographic article:

Spirit bears, also called Kermode bears, are not albinos. They are rare genetic variants of the black bear (see photo), with black skin underneath white fur. Only a few hundred of the white bears are known to exist.

"Last year I saw seven white cubs on one river—all of them had black mothers," said Marvin Robinson, a spirit-bear guide of the Git-ga'at First Nation tribe.

Fascinating stuff. And to think, they live in what is essentially my back yard.

On Freedom.

Darcey, Shere Khan, and Raskolnikov at Dust My Broom run a blog that has been a daily must-read of mine for over a year. I've been fortunate enough to converse with Darcey via email a few times regarding different topics, and I'm proud to be a member of the B.A.D. (blogging and drinking) gang that gets together in cyberspace and celebrates two great Canadian pasttimes.

Raskolnikov's bio states,

I grew up on welfare, was an alcoholic and drug addict by the time I was 14. I’ve also been dealing with severe depression since the age of 14, and anxiety disorder in the last few years. This is nothing to brag about. Just the facts. I’m now proud of who I am — warts, scars, Indian blood, panic attacks, big, loud, foul mouth and all.

I cleaned myself up without managing to blame white people for my problems and have almost 10 years of post-secondary education behind me. I read three or four hours a day, mostly art history, general history and politics, try to write a few hours a week, but photograpy has taken over writing as my passion, and watch way too much Simpsons, Sopranos and Six Feet Under. I despise hip-hop and country music.
***
I have zero tolerance for the cult of victimhood that pollutes my people. I will not subscribe to the ‘woe is me” mentality. Residential schools that ran 80 years ago and nameless explorers that slaughtered my ancestors in the 17th Century have absolutely no bearing on why it took me six years to finish high school.

Strong statements from a man who experienced more hard times by the time he was fifteen than I have at the age of 27.

I especially enjoy when the discussion at the Broom turns (as it inevitably does) to Aboriginals First Nations Indians and the reserve system. I've always hated the reserve system. About as much as I hate racism. Growing up in northern B.C. and seeing scores of drunken, disorderly down-n-outers will certainly make you think twice about the supposed benefits of "status cards" and "first nations treaties". Combine that with the fact that full-time welfare recipients are living off government hand-outs (read: my tax money), and the feelings of animosity towards this continuing travesty only increase within me. Two weeks ago I was doing some work at the Wi'tat nation at Fort Babine. I had never been there before, but had heard stories of what life is like there from many people. It is a beautiful place to be visit, but you sure as hell would not want to live there. Upon my arrival, I saw a group of people outside their home drinking beer. Normally that isn't a problem for me, and I'd even be inclined to join them for a round, but this was at ten o'clock in the friggin' morning. Not only were the adults completely smashed, but their son (presumably) was staggering around as well. I would put him in the 14-16 year old range. They were not the only ones, either. The houses that I was supposed to work on were unimaginably grotesque. Rotten food-stained drywall. Cracked, broken linoleum. Moldy, smelly bathrooms. Ten to twelve inhabitants in a five bedroom home. A complete disaster area.

I came away with even more bitterness at this system. How the hell can we allow this to continue? Why do these people not take advantage of their Indian status and get the hell out of there? Why do people choose to live this way? When will it ever change? Is there even any hope?

In his latest column, Rasky has equated the notions of freedom and revolution, and applied them directly to both the rotten and rotting reserve system, and those who inhabit and profit from it.

The result is a blog post of cosmic importance. I have not read such a piece in a long, long time. Here are four samples:

if Indians have been so forcibly assimilated into mainstream culture over the past 100-150 years, why do most of us still resemble savages in word and deed? Also, why are there little if any Indian doctors, scientists, violin-makers, logicians, oboe-players, composers and various other professionals of the White European ilk? And why, if we are so lost in the mainstream, do we play almost no part in society outside of Recidivist Psychopath Number 1, Welfare Mother Pregnant Again Number 47 and Undignified Whore, winking and blowing kisses at cruising government johns looking to hand out more welfare funding?

racism and neglect is neither rampant nor, for that matter, inherent in non-Aboriginals. (Don’t even get me started on that most destructive of victimhood fallacies, the claim of systemic racism.) Where racism does exist it usually carries little weight thanks to the idiocy of the person brandishing it, or is not racism qua racism but merely anger and frustration from people who 1) are sick of being blamed for something other people did 300 years ago 2) Are sick of seeing people suffering from no identifiable disease outside of complete dependency on the Canadian welfare state get their asses wiped and bibs washed by the government and 3) may in fact actually hate the idea that, yes, at one point, long ago, Indians were bullied and treated unjustly, and they, like all people with an ounce of morality hate bullies and injustice. However, what they hate more than bullies and injustice is someone who does nothing but bitch and moan about being bullied, and use it to get everything they demand, which they then in turn piss away;

If only the horrific impact of “European cultural imperialism” had such an overt, penetrating and no doubt lasting impact on the Indian psyche! Walk down Main Street and count how many Indian youth you see wearing Mozart shirts or can hear are listening to a book-on-tape of Hamlet. Then stop and count the G-Unit shirts, 50 Cent caps, Tupac memorial hoodies, and listen for the curses and grunts of hip hop coming from any number of headphones or car stereos. Then ask yourself from exactly where the cultural imperialism is emanating.

My idea of freedom is a society free of Pimps and victimhood, of radical idiots parroting vapid intellectual fallacies, of yet another glowing full-page feature on yet another semi-illiterate rebel chasing his tail and attempting to catapult the most trivial and infantile of acts – tearing up census forms, eating ballots — – into some grand act of subversion; and, finally, the idea that anyone who dares to see things differently is a sell-out, an assimilated neofascist self-loathing “apple” out to oppress, yet again, his own hapless people.

You would do well to read the whole thing. Beautiful words from an amazing man who has been brought from the edges of despair and hopelessness to a place of relative peace and happiness. What is best, is that he got there through a little bit of luck, and a whole lot of hard work and determination.

Go now, and educate yourself.

Syd Barrett

Rest in Peace, Syd Barrett.

LIFE STYLE EXTRA (UK) - Syd Barrett, the co-founding member of Pink Floyd, has died.

Barrett died at home in Cambridgeshire, aged 60, on Friday (7.7.06).

A spokesperson for Pink Floyd has cofirmed he passed away from health complications caused by his diabetes. Barrett also suffered from painful stomach ulcers.

The spokesperson has revealed there will be a small, private funeral for family and close friends.

Pink Floyd released a joint statement last night (11.07.06) expressing their grief.

It read: "Syd was the guiding light of the early band line-up and leaves a legacy which continues to inspire."

Barrett founded the legendary rock band with Roger Waters, Nick Mason and Rick Wright in 1965.

The pioneering musician - who was born Roger Keith Barrett, but was given the nickname Syd as a teenager - was the band's guitarist and wrote many of their early songs, including the hit singles 'Arnold Layne' and 'See Emily Play'.

Their debut album 'The Piper at the Gates of Dawn' was released in 1967.

However, dduring (sic) his time in the band Barrett's extensive LSD use brought on mental health problems, and he left the group in 1968.

How unfortunate.
He left quite the legacy.

My father introduced me to the music of Pink Floyd as a child in the 1980's. The first time I heard Shine on You crazy Diamond and Wish You Were Here, dad explained to me meaning of the lyrics, and the significance of the song title (bolding is intentional, in case you didn't already know). As my appetite for all things Floyd-y
grew, I discovered their first album Piper at the Gates of Dawn. When I put it in my cd player, and the first satellite/spacey sounds of Astronomy Domine began, I was hooked. After the final song, Bike, I was in awe.
This was recorded in 1967???
Why aren't bands today this creative???

Syd Barrett played a huge role in both songs. In fact, he was largely responsible for the entire album. He is rightly considered by many to be one of the most creative musicians of all time.

I join with so many Floyd fans in saying:

Shine on You crazy Diamond

Does this mean we are all Indians now?

7/11/06

This time it's the city of Mumbai in India.

MUMBAI, India -- Eight bombs hit Mumbai's commuter rail network during rush hour Tuesday evening, killing at least 147 people and wounding more than 400 in what authorities called a well-co-ordinated terrorist attack.

A deplorable and despicable act. There is still no word on whether it was suicide bombers or bombs placed in luggage. Nonetheless, I hope the bastards who were behind this attack get what they so richly deserve.

Sounds kind of funny to say it, but "we are all Indians now".

I don't know what this means

But Dwayne Fehrenbacher does:

the Yucon is FULL of unshaven wilderbeasty women waiting for the topaz of deliverence

(inside joke... something more relevant will appear shortly)

Little Slice of Canada

Happy Canada Day!







It seems most of the Canadian bloggers out there celebrating aren't saying a lot about what Canada means to them. Rather, their posts contain a patriotic image or two with a link to a news story, or a short paragraph summarizing their patriotic feelings. I do not intend to bloviate, or wax eloquently about my love for this country either. Instead, I will let the camera do the talking.

Who the hell can possibly complain when they live surrounding by the following?








The old railway building.



Mountains on the northeastish side of Smithers - The Microwave, the Dome, and the Onion. Favourite destination of snowmobilers in winter.







Hudson Bay Mountain. Nothing more needs to be said.



The Bulkley runs right through Smithers.



As you come into town, this is what you'll see on your left as you cross the bridge



and this is what you'll see on your right.



Lake Kathlyn- beautiful in the summer, and awesome hockey in the winter!



Summer Fun



Smithers Main Street



I didn't realize the neat effect of the sunlight in this pic until I downloaded it. Tell me that's not cool, I dare ya.



An unimpeded view of the glacier on Hudson Bay Mountain from Willow Road, five minutes west of Smithers.



The view of the mountain from "Dohler Flats", near the Bulkler River.



The Smithers Fellowship Baptist Church. Still looks good since getting a "blue face lift" a couple of years ago.

Once again, Happy Canada Day.

Canada Day Round-up

Canadian bloggers all over the place are celebrating Canada Day! I'll keep adding to this as I come across other posts.

Darcey at Dust my Broom

Nick at Ghost of a Flea

Rob Huck shows us a sweet Maple Leaf

The Expat Traveller gives a shout-out

Alan at Genx describes what he likes best about Canada

Stephen Taylor shares his thoughts on Canada.