Not only do I live in Ottawa, I live within a five block radius of Parliament Hill-- Canada's seat of democracy. Not only do I live within a five block radius of Parliament Hill, I have an appointment that requires me to pass through, as I do most everyday, the downtown core. Not only do I have to pass through the downtown core, through the Rideau Center actually, I have to spend a substantial amount of time in the downtown core. Not only will I be spending a substantial amount of time in the downtown core, I'll also, by the vicissitudes of daily life, be spending more than the substantial amount of time I had anticipated I'd be spending in the downtown core—but, really, enough of this sloppy parallelism.
Target of derision, scorn, and international ire, and, similarly, president of the United States, George W. Bush is making his first State/Official visit to Canada. Moving quickly to open clearer and more friendly lines of diplomatic communication, Canadian Prime Minster Paul Martin welcomes George Bush just one month after his decisive electoral victory in November 2nd's US presidential election. Anticipating a large turnout of protestors, city officials along with law enforcement have advised businesses in the downtown core to take all necessary precaution, namely, closing for the day.
The general public is also advised to avoid the downtown core for reasons dealing largely with their own personal safety. Much like the 2001 Summit of the Americas in Quebec, expect peaceful protest, followed by jackass anarchists and/or large, paper machete puppets of various members of the Bush administration— don’t count on seeing Transportation Secretary Norman Y. Mineta.
I have this sneaking suspicion that large multinationals hire strategically placed goons that intentionally engage authorities with forces, thus discrediting the already disreputable elements of the protestors and degrading the efforts made by genuine protestors— though with the malicious and furtively, vile intent of a number of shameless corporations—Merck—nothing's beyond the realm of credulity.
If I’m not caused grave bodily harm by an errant plastic bullet, or pilloried incessantly by self-loathing faux-protestors—since I’ll be dressed semi-formal—the perpetual Kierkegaardian dread of some form, or another, of terrorist attack will, no doubt, induce the adequate amount of physiological stressors to kill me before I step out of my door in the morning. I’ll let you know how today goes later tonight..
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
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