Going Out on a Limb

I’ve been giving the subject of health care a great deal of thought lately. That is not only an introductory statement, it is a reflective comment regarding my current state of mind … a state of mind that has been heavily influenced by the circumstances that our system has been exerting upon one particular hospital in the Ottawa area.

It has always been my intention for there not to be any secrets here. That is one of the main reasons why I decided to fully disclose the fact that I am living with a mental illness: bi-polar affective disorder. There is a great difference between living with a mental illness and suffering from a disease; while there is no doubt that this illness has a powerful influence upon my life, it does not define me nor does it prevent me from pursuing the crafting of prose and the sculpting of sound with music.

This post, however, is not about my struggles to live with this illness; it has to do with the way the health care system has decided to deal with the people, like me, who have been diagnosed with treatable illnesses … illnesses that can be treated through out-patient programs that can, when all parties involved cooperate and participate, help to prevent the need for costly hospitalizations. I know that sounds like a fantastic claim, but it really isn’t – it all has to do with a very simple concept called Psychiatric Rehabilitation, or PSR for short.

The Royal Ottawa Hospital, now called the Royal Ottawa Mental Health Care Centre, has had a PSR Program for over twenty years … had is the operative word. Unfortunately the vision of the hospital has changed for the reason that has been invoked across this land: the almighty dollar. While our health care system is being praised in films, documentaries and politicians around the world we know the truth: if there aren’t serious changes made, and soon, the “universal care” that is offered to our citizens will not be worth the health cards that we carry in our pockets.

If the Royal Ottawa resists the urge to judge the value of a program by its operating cost it has the opportunity to become an exemplary provider of mental health care. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the road that the visionless Board has deemed worthy of following. The acronym “ROMHCC” could very well come to mean the following (unless there are some radical changes – for the better – in the near future):
R – Relentlessly reckless in its feckless quest to dismantle a once Royal institution
O – Obsessively obtuse as staff with PSR experience are forced out
M – Managerially Machiavellian approach to the “bottom line”
H – Hilarious incompetence displayed as essential services are handed over to inadequately funded (or non-existent) community programs
C – Consumer oriented services that purport to protect the rights of patients bit in the end results in a systematic subjugation of those rights
C – Consummately courteous as they ask you to bend over …!

For more information on Psychiatric Rehabilitation at the Royal Ottawa, please read this article.

Cyber-Censorship or Cyber-Sensible?

Some readers out there in the nebulous ether may have wondered at some point as to why the comments they submitted to this blog have not appeared. The answers are not difficult to understand, but after a long absence from the blogesphere I find that this issue has provided me with an opportunity – and the requisite inspiration – to return to the matter blogging after my prolonged absence. By way of offering an explanation to the missing comments I would like to offer an abridged history of my personal relationship with this grand experiment called the Internet, to provide some element of context for my feelings on this matter.

My first experiences with the Internet came long before the word “blog” entered our vocabulary; I spent many an hour reading the Usenet groups, posting to “threads” and, at times, getting “flamed” by the ubiquitous “trolls” that took great delight in preying on anyone they perceived to be susceptible to their venomous attacks. At the time it was the best that I could access through my FreeNet connection, but I wasn’t complaining … the operative word, after all, was that my Internet access was free. The drawbacks associated with this type of access, however, were quick to become evident to anyone who frequented the Usenet groups with any regularity: the “trolls” were not, as previously believed, completely toothless, nor were they the mindless evil creeps that many believed them to be … they were far more insidious than had been imagined, as well as being quite creative in their viciousness and irrational desire to destroy their online targets.

As in the real world, the Internet is populated with a wide variety of individuals, many of whom seem to not be guided by the same moral codes that the rest of us chose to live by; it is a world where bullies exist in reality, where their avatars seek to wreck havoc on susceptible targets in the unseen world of faceless anonymity. While the emerging architecture of the Internet was being celebrated as the ultimate expression of free speech at its best there were already signs that this “freedom” was going to be followed by several asterisks, signs delineating the necessary comments on the ways in which “free speech” has been used – and abused – by the finest American lawyers in order to protect the purveyors of hatred, racism, misogyny and other things that quickly found a home in the darkest depths of the Internet.

The borderless nature of this international community that can be called the “Net” implies a citizenry as diverse as the planet itself, and yet, real borders do exist. As much as we would like to imagine that the Internet is some wonderful egalitarian force working for the good of all, it is not; while it may have originated as an academic tool it has subsequently been usurped by the purveyors of the worst kinds of hatred, by exploitative materials, and by an endless stream of misinformation on virtually every imaginable topic. History is casually rewritten and posted with impunity as revisionists use any available opportunity to bolster their indefensible positions; the truth, as represented by the “Net”, should now be accompanied by disclaimers that what they are reading may not have anything to do with the truth. Of course, anyone who disagrees can simply post their own opinion, replete with their “version” of the truth someplace else. Thus the new definition for the Theory of Relativity that included the relativity of truth – anything could be seen as being “somewhat” true, so long as the person making the claims shouted loud enough (protested enough, or had enough similarly convinced cohorts who shared their misguided leader’s view). Whether or not something was actually true or not, however, was not as important as the slickness of the message being presented.

Perhaps it can be seen as a fulfilment of the idea proposed by Canadian philosopher Marshall McLuhan when he stated that “the medium is the message”, elevating the Internet itself to the level of messenger for a new age … the only caveat being that when trust is lost in that medium what are we left with? The truth of the matter is that the Internet is only a tool; it shall only continue to survive and thrive if we can be certain that we can have some level of confidence in the materials that we are accessing. There is no point using the Internet for research if everything found is of questionable value or comes from dubious sources. Trust is precious and is something that must be earned.

While some people might call this the ultimate “democracy” of the Internet there are some who believe there is a need to have Internet regulated. That isn’t what I’m interested in, at this point; I’m only concerned (in a small sense) with what is directly relating to my own contact with the “Net”, which happens to be this blog. Thanks to the advances in connectivity, computer speed, and the development of the “Net” itself (advances that have been made, by the way, largely due to the porn industry) connecting to the ether is far easier than it was in the days of the 56.6 modems.

Having a blog is, in a way, like having a diary that you leave open on a table for anyone to read (if they want to read it) … they can also write things in the margins if they so choose … that’s why I decided to have a comments section. That said, it hasn’t always been the most enjoyable thing … that isn’t to say I haven’t enjoyed the writing – that was why I started, I enjoy writing. While I enjoy writing posts for this blog I don’t allow it to interfere with “life”; having the comments section is nice as it has allowed me to know when people read and enjoy what has been posted. Unfortunately there are not always bright sides to every story, and this one isn’t so bright … in fact, it is downright nasty.

When I began this blog the comments section was totally un-moderated, reflective of my faith in the ability of my reader’s to self-edit and, dare I say, self-censer. Alas, it didn’t take very long for the modern Internet “trolls” to rear their heads, posting everything from advertisements for drugs that promised to enhance the size of certain male body parts to some rather uncreative attacks that had absolutely nothing to do with what had been written.

Moderation began and the issue seemed to be solved … or so I thought. Lately there have been several submissions that are totally obscene, have absolutely nothing to do with the post to which they were attached, and are completely inappropriate for my blog. I have never posted anything along the lines of an “acceptable comments” post, and I am reluctant to do so for a number of reasons, but I will say the following to those individuals who may be of the opinion that my (potential) rejection of their comments is a violation of one of their constitutionally entrenched rights: get over it.

If you believe that you have the “right” to post absolutely anything to someone’s personal blog, you are deluded. First of all, I live in Canada, not the United States; Canada is not encumbered by the “First Amendment” that grants the “Freedom of Speech” (or “Freedom of Expression”) which is used to protect every American’s right to spout hatred from any soapbox they can find. In Canada you can be prosecuted for using language that incites hatred (see Ernst Zundel who was prosecuted under Section 181 of the Criminal Code of Canada for “knowingly publishing false news”).

Of course, in Canada we do have the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms which entrenches our "freedom of thought, belief, opinion and expression, including freedom of the press and other media of communication", however, the ruling of the Supreme Court was that section 181 violated the guarantee of freedom entrenched by the Charter. Zundel lost his legal battle in the end for the simple reason that the truth cannot be suppressed without its light shining through eventually. Not even the loudest revisionists can make their lies reach out to persuade those who are able to filter out the obfuscations and straw-man arguments that are passed off as their versions of the truth.

This may raise the question as to whether or not I really believe in free speech, or if I believe in censorship; I would argue that the first is as rarefied as the idea of true democracy and the second is as common as governmental corruption (particularly in the land where "free speech" is spoken of with such reverence). We are free to express ourselves as we desire, so long as we do not use that freedom to impinge upon the rights of others … oh, but that’s not the way this “freedom” is supposed to work, is it? Therein the true problem lies: one person’s freedom cannot become another’s shackles.

You will not see any comments published to this blog that violates the following code: sorry … there isn’t an “acceptable comments code”, and there isn’t going to be one – I am rejecting comments that are abusive, racist, misogynistic, hateful, and otherwise inappropriate. Does that sound too vague? Too bad; this isn’t a democracy either, it’s my blog. People are allowed to post anonymously, they just can’t post material that contains hateful comments.

As with many things that we experience throughout our lives there is a great amount to be said about the term “freedom” and what it means to each of us; however, true freedom can only come when we – as individuals – are liberated from the things that have bound us either physically, emotionally, or even intellectually.

Ironically the Dalai Lama was recently feted on an official visit to Ottawa where he had an audience with Prime Minister Harper. I find this ironic for the simple reason that the world loves to call for the “freedom” of Tibet, which is something that I would also agree with, and yet the Dalai Lama proposes a return of the Lama class … essentially the Tibetan version of the Indian caste system (the Dalai Lama being the top Brahman priest) ... or does he? History would tell us that this is the case, but the Internet reveals otherwise with a quick search that turns up a story pointing out the changing views of this world leader in exile.

Is freedom for Tibet the exchange of one oppressive system for another? That, as with many things is a matter for debate, but reasonable people will only be able to arrive at reasonable opinions once they have assessed the relevant materials. Knee-jerk reactions only serve to feed prejudices that feed hatreds that lead to wasted energies.

As always, comments are welcome, but whether they are posted shall be dependent not upon what you say but how it is stated.

Thank you for visiting.

MLK in DC: 44 Years Later

It seems difficult to imagine that 44 years has passed since the historic demonstration that took place in Washington D.C. where Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke to a massive crowd gathered for the single purpose of promoting civil rights in the United States. There were no distinctions of people at the rally, there were only people; Dr. King managed to bring together people from all walks of life for a common purpose, people who were able to put aside any differences in the quest for something greater. After 44 years the prize seems to have been lost, or at least the goal has been forgotten. Racial strife in the United States has reached a point where political adversaries take the opportunity to attack potential presidential candidates because of the color of their skin, and others are attacked if they are perceived to be weaker because they happen to be a woman. All the talk of advancement and progress that may have taken place cannot make up for the fact that there are more people of colour in U.S. prisons than are represented in the population, something that cannot be reconciled by statistical anomalies higher crime rates committed by “underprivileged minorities”: prosecutorial racism, or institutional racism if you prefer, is a fact of everyday life and it is a sad commentary on this anniversary.

The text of doctor King’s speech is as inspirational today as it was 44 years ago, and it is well worth reading if you have not read the words. Even better than reading the words, however, is hearing the speech as it was delivered by the man himself (and seeing him as he speeks): an opportunity to experience one of the great orators of the twentieth century. Like Cicero commanded his audiences in Roman times, captivating them with his magnificent gift of oratory Dr. Martin Luther King was able to take a great speech and turn it into an event that changed the lives. I was not fortunate enough to be at this rally, it took place five years before my birth, but having read the speech and seen the film as a child it has always felt to me as though I was there in spirit, and that doctor King’s words had a special resonance for me: I share his dream, and I do not want to see another 44 years ago by before the dream is fully realized.

You will find the full text of the speech after the video.



Text of speech:

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honouring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquillity in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"