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Index carnegienewsletter.org Website . carnnews@shaw.ca email . ~arnDews@vcD.bc.ca
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Saturday March 21st, 2015 1:00 PM Gathering at Clerk Pork (14th and Commercial)
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From "the Library
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'ART IS A WAY OF SURVIVAL: -y.o.
SEE EXlllBITS
AT GALLERY GACHET
Our latest display at the library is about freshening up your spring reading list! We are encouraging both staff and library patrons to contribute a title to the display. As well, to align with CBC "Canada Reads" debate week (March 16 - 19), if you provide the title of your favourite book in our draw you will be up for a prize of fine books! The featured CBC books are: Ru by Kim Thuy - This is the story of a Vietnamese immigrant woman in Canada, presented in poetic flashbacks such as her time in a Malaysian refugee camp, interpreting the generosity of a Quebec community and wanting to fit in, to dealing with an Autistic child in the present. Translatedfrom French.
When Everything Feels like the Movies by Raziel Reid - A flamboyant teenager, struggling in school, Jude finds escape imagining that his world is a film set with a crew, cast, movie stars, director. Intolerable: A memoir of extremes by Kamal AlSolaylee - A history that blends recent Middle Eastern history, family exile, as well as a coming-out story, and how the.author built a life for himself in England and Canada. Wayson Choy states that it is a "deeply rending story." The Inconvenient Indian by Thomas King - Described as a "personal meditation on what it means to be 'Indian" with King exploring the relationships of Natives and non-Natives since the 15th Century. And the Birds Rained Down by Jocelyne SaucierSounds like a mysterious book of when two men who attempt to distance themselves from civilization are interrupted when a young woman photographer, and elderly aunt appear in their forest. If you need further advice on what to read consider using the feature "What Do I Read Next?" on the VPL webpage (http://guides.vpl.ca/whatdoireadnext) for Personalized Reading Recommendations. Your librarian, Natalie [Thomas King is a treasure, with The Inconvenient Indian and On The Back of the Turtle great reads. Ed]
'Energy' by Michelle Tuffy See this in colour at Gallery Gachet, 88 E Cordova, from Mar 6 - Apr 12
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THE WRONG ANGER Infighting, gut battles we all wage so well. Carnage in the fish tank. Alligators wrestling in bed. Nuclear attack across the breakfast table. Duels in the women's center. The fractioning faction fight.
The Just Film Festival brings the pursuit of justice to the big screen. We showcase social justice and environmental documentaries that go to the heart of issues confronting communities 'here and around the planet. Our focus is activist documentary film; our intention is to motivate audiences to action by putting a spotlight on issues both local and global.
Where does the bank president drink his martinis? Where do those who squeeze the juice from the land till it blows red dust in your eye hang out on a Saturday night?
We are BC's largest social justice film festival. Formerly known as the Vancouver World Community Film Festival, the festival has been produced by CoDevelopment Canada and World Community for the past 14 years and has been held at Langara College for the last ten.
It's so easy to kick my dog, my child, my lover, the woman across the desk. People burning their lives away for pennies pile up in the neighborhoods like rusting car bodies. Why not stroll down to the corner yacht club and invite the chairman of the board of I. T. & T. to settle it with his fists? How hard to war again those too powerful to show us faces smiling like billboard lions from the bloodflecked jaws: their eyes flick over us like letters written too small to read, streets seen from seven miles up as they spread the peacock tail of executive jets across skies yellow with greed. Their ashes rain down :on our scarred arms, the fall 'out from explosions they order by memo.
$35 $20 $10 $10
JUST FILM FESTIVAL , clo Co Development Canada 260-2747 East Hastings Vancouver, BC VSK 1Z8 604-708-149S
Festival Pass Saturday or Sunday day pass Thursday Night @ the RIO Friday Night Feature and Reception
• 2S% Vancity staff member discount • 2S% CoDev member discount • SO% studenVlow income or senior discount
www.justfilm.org PURCHASE IN PERSON TICKETS - PURCHASE ONlINE at www.justfilm.org
CoDev Canada .260 - 2747 East Hastings 604-708::....-..:..14.;.:9:.;S---==-,=--,,--
Social justice builds
strong communities,
Marge Piercy
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Mar-k Hencock. Prnsndent SeGml.ory Treesur'er-
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Crab - Water for Life Society Celebrating the
To: Re:
zs" Anniversary
of Crab Park
Mayor and Council City of Vancouver Movement of Hazardous Cargo on Central Waterfront
March 6, 2015
The recent toxic container fire highlights the need to remove all hazardous cargo from Vancouver's central waterfront permanently. The game being played on Vancouver's waterfront is like a game of Russian Roulette. Yes, the first responders to this incident were brave because with some ofthe toxic chemicals they could have also been vaporized .. An explosion of certain chemicals could lead to a fireball of one thousand yards in radius. There could be heavy impact for one mile in radius. Windows would be blown out within a three mile radius. And how could nearby residential and commercial citizens be evacuated when some are elderly, people with disabilities, and in some cases in a state of drugged confusion. Mayor Robertson and Councillors, do the people of Vancouver have the right to know what toxic chemicals are daily being moved on our waterfront by container and rail? The citizens of Vancouver have a right to their life and livelihood to be properly served and protected. Mayor Robertson, the only real way of protecting our citizens near the central waterfront of Vancouver is to remove all hazardous cargo permanently from our waterfront. Your City Council, Mayor Robertson, is the third city council that Crab-Water for Life Society has passed the above message on toxic chemicals to. Don Larson, Crab-Water for Life Society
NEIGHBOURHOOD SMALL GRANTS PROGRAM 2015 . The 2015 NSG program launch & online application opens February 23'd. Deadline for submissions is March 31st, 2015. http://neighbourhoodsmallgrants.calgrantlneighbourhoo d-small-grants (Hard copies of applications available at Ray-Cam, Strathcona, Camegie & Britannia Community Centres) RESIDENT ADVISQRY COMMITTEE If you're interested in being on this committee, email LinseaO路Shea-linseansgp@gmail.com. Orientation will take place at Strathcona Community Centre on Saturday March time to be determined, and you will need to attend 4-6 meetings (depending on the number of apps) between April 1 & June 30.
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CALL FOR NOMINATIONS BOARD OF DIRECTORS
Full details at dtesnhouse.ca
Or admin@dtesnhouse.ca Deadline Noon Monday, June 1,2015
No Expectations Some learned people say that thoughts are chemical. I disagree somewhat, but let's agree for a few minutes that thoughts are chemical. Chronic anxiety is triggered off to many of us who find themselves faced with a responsibility.
I repeated the words, and my anxiety disappeared as if being chopped off at the chemical source of negative memory before its negativity could reach my brain. For days thereafter, whenever I started to feel anxious or depressed, I'd casually say in my mind: "No expectations." I'd found the secret of blocking the old chemicals that used to control my onward thinking, and allowed the normal, rational thought process to take over in reai time.
The responsibility may be something as simple as going out to get groceries, or something more conflicting such as keeping an appointment the next day. Of course, if you've never suffered from strong anxiety then I forgive you thinking I'm a complete wing-nut. We will need food later in the day so we battle the fears and go out the door hoping nothing bad happens. For the rest of my fellow Anxietynauts, I strongly suggest when We return home with our groceries, and feel safe again. a thought of worry or anxiety crosses you mind, simply respond in An appointment the next day is another matter. The appointment hounds us, and we can't fall asleep for a long time dreading that we will sleep in. We toss and turn until REM.
your thinking voice: "No Expectations."
But somehow we wake up, and go out the door just like we're going for groceries, get to the appointment 45 minutes early, then go back home where we feel safe again. Food. Appointments. They weigh heavy in the mind. They trigger a chemical response that reminds us of other times since we first started to think in language and retain memory bank images that take but a fraction of a second to be flashed back to our thoughts. And on it goes for years and decades until we either perish or have an epiphany. Not merely wanting to escape by perishing, I had a sudden soft awareness one late frustrating day. I was at the end of my rope over some 'responsibility' when my mind whispered the words: "No expectations."
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It was a Day like all days in the North by West March lion or lamb Biting cold, or sweating smog Dark. While the rest of the country shiver under a snow white blanket That blanket covering the sins & errors of the past season and further back. Soon, I hear, when the weather improves the fighting will begin in Earnest Territory all over again. The natives want their land The natives want equal rights The natives want reparation Not just high-level apologies
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The murder of the women The theft of the children The denial of the legitimacy of the indigenous covenants Will not be a crime mitigated overnight. Not even in our lifetime Wilhelmina
Mary
And the Band Played On Played a waltz about a war that was lost or maybe not The Turks, those hospitable people To refugees/ Used to be our Enemies! But it is getting harder to figure it out Pilgrims/ Just Who ~ our Enemy THIS TIME. It appears to be our former friends firing on us .. Is it the TOWER of Babe I all over again?! Language, that blunt instrument, is the culprit as Isee it. And being such a huge part of culture We never will really be able to Translate - capiche? Wilhelmina Mary
Alive Inside Love is the most powerful thing that a Human Being can do Contemporary Aboriginal Love Mantra I Love my God God my Lord God Creator, I Love you I Love my Grandmothers, I Love my Grandfathers I Love all the helpers of our Lord God Creator throughout the ages Grandmothers, Grandfathers I love you I Love my mother, I Love my father Fathers, Mothers I Love you I tove you Love of my Life I Love you I Love all my brothers, I Love all my sisters Sisters, Brothers I Love you I Love all our families, friends, neighbors and communities wherever you may be, I Love you I Love all our ancestors, past, present and future Ancestors, I Love you I Love all human beings that ever were, ever are and ever will be Human Beings, I Love you I Love you (say your name) I Love you I Love Life I Love all Life that ever was, ever is and ever will be I Love you I Love you I Love you I Love you I Love you all All My Relations MKGreen
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Regarding Transit and the "Yes Vote' being sold to us by Metro Vancouver Mayors and City Councils. The proposition is that they want more money to fund more and more efficient public transit. We are told that transit congestion and long wait times for commuters are their worried concern. That's mighty commendable of these municipal governments isn't it - reassuring even! But wait a minute ... it was and is these same Metro Vancouver Municipal Governments [govts] who created the Transit Congestion Problem in the first place. These municipal govts have been doing everything in their power these last 20 years or so to encourage the building of as many pricey condos, expensive apartments [apts] and monster homes as possible. Let's face it: Greater Vancouver Area has been nothing less than a fabulous gold mine for real estate developers. The only hitch in this grand design of developers and Vancouver municipal govts is that all this real estate development has been to provide mostly wealthy and well off people with luxury housing, whereas the average wage earners have been almost literally left out in the cold. Vancouver municipal govts and developers have joined forces to cut up and parcel out the best and most scenic areas of the lower mainland as housing for the top wealthy 5 percent. A lot of these folks can't even vote, either in B.C. or Canada, but because of their wealth they have, in effect, more rights here than the wageearning citizens; their wants and needs are of course attended and catered to more by Vancouver municipal govts. ... This massive real estate development throughout the lower mainland must have surely brought in a bonanza of cash to these same municipal govts.{Where did all the money go?) Development never slowed as the price of real estate soared into the stratosphere, although it became clearer and clearer that the average wage-earning citizens could no longer afford a condo (let alone a house) anywhere near Vancouver. All that was left were much overpriced apts. Young wage-earning couples looked at a future here where, realistically, they would never be able to purchase their own home. At the same time as this massive development was taking place the highways and byways got more congested. j The wage-earners could hardly afford their rents or -if they dared- mortgages. Owning a car was also prohibitive for average people who are stretched to the financial limit in this Land of the Wealthy. So more people, to make ends meet, started to take public transit. Now here we are in this perplexing situation: the developers and their municipal govt friends have raked in the gold as they've made Vancouver a paradise for the rich but now almost unlivable for the average wage-earners. These same average wage-earners are being smilingly told by Metro Vancouver's municipal govts that they are going to be dinged for even more of their ever dwindling income. These average people have been forced to take the overcrowded Transit while the wealthy cruise happily by in their benzes and jags. Taking the Transit means long waits and the humiliation of being stuffed and shoved around in overcrowded buses and trains. Mayor Robertson made a statement that a Yes vote didn't necessarily mean that Vancouver Transit was going to improve ... so agreeing to have more of your money sucked out by a Yes Vote could be similar to playing the lottery!? The real point though is that the developers and their buddies at City Hall(s) have turned the lower mainland into their massive personal treasure chest by catering almost exclusively to the world's wealthiest 5.per cent. That the average wage-earning citizens were greatly inconvenienced, cut off/cut out and impoverished by this ongoing real estate monopoly seems to be of no concern to these municipal govts. If the wage-earners of the lower mainland had enough money for their own vehicles, they wouldn't take transit because of the inconvenience and overcrowding. That the wage-earners are being asked to fund a Transit system they've been forced into taking by this devastating, inflationary real estate monopoly- scheme is too much and it just adds the municipal government's contemptible insult to it's already egregious and greed driven injury ... actually catastrophe! By S.Hawley
Lost and Found
Finding Hope Beneath the Surface
SUPERFICIALITY SUPERFICIALLY living, on the surface of your being, possibly unwilling to explore and investigate what is deep down in your innermost soul, lying there in a virtual state of unexplored simmering glowing embers .. untapped, underused, maybe subconsciously forgotten .. eventually to be discarded. What a pity such a waste if this be so so what to do? It is your choice in this day & age; it can be confusing trying & overwhelming in these technologically busy demanding days, like being in a tug-of-war with your emotions, mind-bending thoughts, worries and fretting of things to come ... Regrets of actions thoughts & ideas on things long since past, instead of living & concentrating, of existing & performing your life in the now. With days so hectic & action-packed, as well as cluttered, it is essentially harder to find the precious time to just turn on, tune in &.Jrop out - to stop everything you are doing at any given time, to just sit back & lie down in a meditative position & state, clear your mind of all thoughts, relax your body totally & concentrate on your breath; breathing deeply, very deeply into your inner core with extreme blissful focus, of a certain determination to unshackle for a time from all bonds, demands & obligations of our brief earthly existence ... feeling no pain, no worries, no nothing Seek this way of life out if yu wish, searching for deep meanings & doctrines of eternity, on a path to absolute peace, security and priceless solitude. Enjoy the journey into this magnificent truthful state of being. By ROBYN LlVINGSTONE
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Yesterday I went to the bank and withdrew some money. Next I went to London Drugs to shop and the Post Office to mail a letter. I used my DebitCard to pay for the shopping.Next to Nester's Market, likewise using the DebitCard to pay. I returned home and found that the zi~r on my purse was open and my wallet was gone. I went across the street, bought a new wallet and then retracked my steps . . First to the bank: withdrew more cash - no wallet there - then to the Post Office where the Lady posted a Lost & Found for my wallet, which was also not at London Drugs. On to Nester's Market where YES my wallet was found and put away in their safe until I returned. I thanked the man behind the counter for his kindness of keeping my wallet "safe" in their safe. It shows that there are still nice, good people in Our World. As I was searching for my wallet I prayed it would be found. MY PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED Marlene Wuttunee PS: The money ($120) was all there. Eating Education 11 Just what was that in the Gypsy stove that time in Timbuktu? What corrupt obese banker spilled out that night we rammed the old tanker? Was it Civil Servant Coleslaw that dreamy day in Ottawa? What action graced the boiled ham in coal-dusty Nottingham? Was there finaceer in watered-down beer that lunch in Tangier? Was that Rancid Slumlord Pie on board the yacht in Uruguay? ,<
John Alan Douglas
Dear Carnegie Folks, Enclosed is a donation following the lovely Jean Swanson's call for support. I appreciate the work you do in providing inclusive space for people to share experiences and perspectives. With best wishes, Jackie W.
The Sandstone Lady Way down on the old Eastside On Hastings and Main, There is a sandstone lady Who braves the wind and rain. She's a building of rare beauty With her copper dome, And the people who come there They say she feels like home.
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But it don't matter who you are Whatever your name or rank, . ' You might wear old hand-me-downs Or you might dress real swank.
Yeah, this old sandstone lady Is. like a mother to us all, So stand up and say Carnegie! You beautiful old doll. Now, first she was a library Then a museum for the town, But when she was abandoned You could say they let her down. But then like a Phoenix She rose up in the sun, And she became a centre For all the folks to come. Yeah, this old sandstone lady Is like a mother to us all, So stand up and say Carnegie! You beautiful old doll! Well, you might come for coffee Or you might come for tea, You might come to chat with the folks Who are a lot like you and me. You might come to have a meal Cause they know how to make'em right, Or maybe you come to have a rest 'Cause you didn't sleep ast night. You might even come to watch T. V . .Or shoot a game of pool, And you might come to read a book 'Cause you just went back to schoo I. You might come to lift some weights To make yourself real strong, Or maybe you are lonely And need somewhere to belong. Yeah. this old sandstone lady Is like a mother to us all, So stand up and say Carnegie! You beautiful old doll.
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Yeah, this old sandstone lady Is like a mother to us all, . So stand up and say Carnegie! You beautiful old doll. Way down on the old Eastside On Hastings and Main, There is a sandstone lady Who braves the wind and rain. She's a building of rare beauty With her copper dome, And the people who come there They say she feels like home. Yeah, this old sandstone lady Is like a mother to us all, So stand up and say Carnegie! You beautiful old doll. Now, first she was the library Then museum for the town, But when she was abandoned You could say they let her down. But then like the Phoenix • She rose up in the sun, To become a centre For all the folks to corne, Yeah, this old sandstone lady Is like a mother to us all, So stand up and say Carnegie! You beautiful old doll! Oh, her doors are always open And you are welcome in Though your name be Chung Valdez or Eagle Or Mary Joe or Jim Now high overhead an eagle flies And so does a snow white dove One says you will find courage here And the other peace and love Yeah, this old sandstone lady Is like a mother to us aIL So stand up and say Carnegie! You beautiful old doll. Patrick Foley
tough love she & I have made it through another day without killing ourselves or each other without running away from each other we've made it through with so little to go on we've made it through without bank accounts or pension plans we've made it through with nothing to look forward to we've made it through without really wanting to we've made it through with despair, fear & confusion we've made it through without owning anything of value or wanting to we've made it through with a profusion of differences between us we've made it through without television or movies we've made it through without meetings to go to we've made it through without organizations to belong to we've made it through without any church to attend ~;::...: we've made it through without using computers we've made it through without books telling us how-to we've made it through with everything we've lost we've made it through despite the years of trouble we've caused each other we've made it through with our strangulated spirits turning blue we've made it through with nowhere to go we've made it through with worn-out shoes we've made it through without the oblivion of drugs or booze we've made it through with crippling lifelong emotional wounds e've made it through sleeping past noon we've made it ,through without any good news we've made it through lottery tickets or bingo we've made it through with our families sick & poor & crazy & old e've made it through with even fewer illusions we've made it through without being run over by cars or blown-up by pipelines or mutilated by maniacs on city avenues we've made it through with our senses shrinking & our bodies breaking down & our nerves whipped & abused we've made it through with the meaningless lives we're forced to use we've made it through by sending blind prayers into burned-out air we've made it through by listening to each other we've made it throug by holding onto each other we've made it through by trying to care more for each other than we do for ourselves & somehow she & I have made it through
another god damned day Bud Osborn
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unholy toledo renamed today by graffiti on gray walls and t-shirts "zero city" where the spirit of tecumseh drifts above the poisoned maumee river where police discover satanic mutilations and blood-altars unholy toledo a burned-out laid-off radiation-cancer-zone my hometown a place that has killed itself & lived through it . \
indescribably happy for a moment at least my grandmother's preserved photographic proof an ordinary advertisement for kodak camera displayed in the only local newspaper I was a chubby little white child with curly blonde hair running heedless and head-long and ecstatic towards the outstretched arms of my beautiful young mother my father kneeling nearby aiming a camera to record a successful domestic scene the message obvious 'be like this family' be like this city toledo ohio in 1950 a paragon of prosperity in the wealthiest and most powerful nation in the history of the world today near the end ofthe second millennium I see boarded-up and broken-into blocks of houses entire vacated smashed-up neighborhoods empty hotels and empty relocated factories new soup kitchens and emergency shelters long foodbank line-ups and welfare cutbacks a tent city for refugees within zero city crack cocaine out of control solid citizens and politicians calling for martial law and euthanasia for increasing numbers of crack-addicted babies where posters on city busses proclaim collapse "If you use a .38 in a robbery it's a mandatory 5 years have you got school problems? - call this number have you got family problems? alcohol-drug-disease-suicide-pregnancy problems? call this number" crimestoppers' reward posters 'turn in your neighbor for money' and neighborhood watch signs over every terrorized street sign where the long ago happy kodak family has long since been destroyed my father hanged himselfin jail
my mother went crazy and tried to kill herself my aunt shot my grandmother in the heart and turned the gun on herself my grandfather died young of childhood-coal mine-black lung my other grandfather died a drunk and a bum
unholy toledo where my friends koontz burned alive in a drunken gas heater fireball louanne was beaten and raped and dumped. in a cemen condemning my family as an example of "the consequences of flaunting contempt for the moral laws on which our society ultimately rests" full-page sensational suicide and sex scandal the message obvious 'don't be like this family' unholy toledo where my friend paulette picked up syphilis turning tri and was thrown by her pimp from a 2nd-storey windov breaking her back and paralyzing her her pimp a guy named eddie my basketball-playing buddy toledo ohio where the valedictorian of my high school class mixed a poison and left a note saying "I'm tired" where my friend beverlya lesbian heard voices telling her to stab a man and she did stick him 14 times and spent ten y~ars in prison zero city originally
called "the black swamp"
where charlie shipman a short smart-ass joker with one dead arm who showed me the ropes in a local institution was eaten by rats beneath a black velvet billboard in the weeds on summit street beside the river where archie an old friend of my mother's and father': was beaten to death in the tavern he owned on collingwood avenue by somebody who said he just wanted to take a piss where ray ray's mother in the south end sold blowjobs in their livingroom and ray ray's eyes at 7 years old looked as hard as sonny liston's at the end where doctor fisch a psychiatrist at the toledo mental health center the nuthouse told me I was 'emotionally disturbed" of course I am
then said to me "the world is going to end in cannibalism" me OIaCKswamp where a judge before sentencing me told me I was of"no use to society" I took it as a compliment where doctor bitar a sociologist at toledo university declared to me that "what america is becoming will make hitler's germany look like a sunday school picnic" unholy toledo where I was locked-up with eric a vietnam vet who had explosions going off in his head and was afraid he was going to hurt someone and locked-up with gary who went through vietnam without a scratch but back home in toledo was shot in the stomach by his girlfriend where my long-time friendjoyce hallucinates thieves breaking into her locked-up life toledo ohio where I was kicked out ofrowe nursery school for not getting along with the rest of the kids then I dropped out of kindergarten and when the teacher called to invite me back and said the kids were having so much fun I said that's because I wasn't there I was as desperate as a human being can be by the time I was 5 years old I'd already twice tried to kill myself in zero city where when I was 4 helplessly watching my mother raped by a man she brought home from a bar where my mother ran wild ran manic ran with a black motorcycle gang ran to crack houses with stressed-out vietnam vets ran for president of the united states upon her release from a psychiatric ward unholy toledo where when 1 was 4 and 5 my mother used me sexually and I felt like I was being burned alive zero city where I made a vow when I was 15 never to become vulnerable to another human being then took 200 aspirins and was charged with a crime for 'attempting to harm' myself
where my friend joe plasecki who lifted my spirit despite myself became a superintendent of schools in southern michigan and was shot to death by a teacher who resented him where crysta a beautiful woman I've known for years tried to sell me her baby in a bar for a drink and was arrested for it where my friend bill janitor of the downtown ymca was stabbed to death mopping the hallway his killer found naked and on his knees praying in the lobby the black swamp where the only person I've ever trusted enough to collapse in tears in his arms a tough guy from the north end an organized crime guy my stepfather louie who never harmed me was convicted of raping a 9 year old girl and is doing 6 to 25 years in the penitentiary unholy toledo where twenty years ago I walked into southwyck shopping mall and read a sign above a video arcade saying "create your own real ity" I knew what it meant an invitation to death maureen slashed her wrists amy drove her car with her daughter in it to the middle ofrailroad tracks and waited for the train where morningstar staggered out ofa bar and fell beneath the wheels of a truck where my closest childhood friend robin ehret murdered himself . where lance smith blew his head apart with his father's shotgun in the family bathroom where preston blount froze to death in an alley where ray logan froze to death on the sidewalk in front of the salvation army where sammiee owen froze to death in an abandoned storefront and his son steals for food and spends his youth in jail where I lived in a halfway house for drunken bums
wi th retarded bilIy rogers who sodomized and strangled a little girl where a mugger pulped my friend donald bond's brain with a 2-hy-4 and where helen who lived downstairs on western avenue smeared her face with a dead dog's blood and foam and whose mother pulled her own hair out in bloody clumps where my closest high school friends and myself lived on the same residential avenue jim's mother drank herself to death in her 50s tom's mother had nervous breakdowns and overdosed on pills in her 40s chuck's mother started crying and couldn't stop or set the table for invisible guests so she'd have someone to talk to and received another psychward confinement and tranquilizers torn's mother had nervous brso she'd have someone to talard confinement and tranquilizers but their houses were neat and clean they were usually smiling and wearing cosmetics carefully applied none of them knew of the others' anguish .:路路:though their husbands' busi'ness careers thrived on berdan-avenue-in-hell in zero city where my uncle earl fought scabs police and the u.s. army organizing unions until he died of cirrhosis and alcohol poisoning where my friend george love's brother hanged himselfin a boxcar where louie holloway the wino artist lost his toes from exposure where billy and bobby devlin my little dearborn-avenue-next-door-5-year-old-friends became respectively a brutal drunk and a convict junkie where my good friend danny stole a truck on his way to kill his f ther who'd beaten and tortured him as a child but was arrested first and turned 18 in prison where omar my arab room-mate just out of prison from the civil war in lebanon shot a biker coming after him with a broken bottle calmly in the head 4 times in brenda's body shop where my friend jeffrey the body builder who used to bring me protein powder murdered a man in cold blood and bragged about it and is doing life for homicide where dewey blanchard who could recite by heart "the hound of heaven" was thrown from a car with his throat cut
and where the toledo blade advertising itself as "one of america's greatest newspapers" printed an editorial one year after the kodak ad zero city where I purposely drove a car into a wall on 1-75 expressway 70 miles an hour certain Iwas going to die bitter and angry at having survived where when drunk one night fell backwards against a concrete curb cracking my skull open and crawled into wet grass and shadows of scott park at 3:30 in the morning blood pumping out of an artery a police car passed near me but didn 't see me Igave up Iwas dying and glad of it then suddenly a white cadilac appeared in the street strong arms lifted me to my feet placed me drunk bleeding and muddy into a clean backseat handed me a towel to press to my head my anonymous saviours brought me bacl. from the dead drove me to toledo hospital where still alive and resentful I believed I was evil and my life a curse toledo ohio where I nearly made a man a murderer provoking him in a bar on broad way friendly until I discovered he had a gun then taunted and provoked him into pulling it aiming it right at me I told him to shoot "what are you? a coward?" but a look of horror appeared on his face he knew I was crazy and he would've gone to jail zero city where the head of psychology at toledo state mental hospital pronounced me "hopeless" unholy toledo
then I stopped walking through it as though I were stopped I heard a sound like forests of leaves singing in a very strong wind a wind blowing right through me through my heart through the cent er of my being my gut my soul that place always so cold hungry anxious a kind of black hole trapping any light coming near it and crushing the life out of it this wind pouring through me filled that hole torrentialIy wondrously yet paradoxically replacing 'me' I was aware of something tremendous happening but it was no longer T no longer the desperately miserable person 1'9 been all my life until that moment I looked ~p at the blue sky and it was moving more swiftly than anything I have ever seen but it was absolutely still at the same time and for the very first time I was feelingjoy feeling pure joy with my entire being I was nothing but pure joy and then became awe-struck and instinctively bowed my head and the words came to me "the sky is closer here less blockaded" I was returned to 'myself and looked around at the traffic the city buildings the other people on the street and an indisputable certainty informed me that 'everything was all right' for a man who formerly and fervently' was convinced that everything the details and relationships and circumstances of daily life and of my life and oflife itself were hopelessly wrong this revelation contradicted my experience yet I recognized it to be the truth about reality that the deaths and violence and madness were not the ultimate truth the final word but within them and through them everything was all right everyth in g was joy and I was shown vividly that life was alive though perhaps to other people that's obvious or taken for granted but to me life was death and I was among the living dead movin~ around meaninglessly yet violently but that moment revealed to me that life was truly alive and there was no death but reality and I was given to know I belonged to this aliveness this truth this livingness I who had always felt abandoned and alone belonged to this intimate yet transcendent being I belonged to the creator of this 'moment' I belonged as much as anyone or anything as much as any billionaire or drop of dew on a blade of grass here was meaning here was real reality containing and embracing all appearances to the contrary in a oneness of joy each thing around and within me distinctive yet wedded in a oneness of joy and this truth and this reality is who and what I am beyond experiences of death deeper than condemnations and negations this prodigious affirmation I continued walking down erie street floating is more like it towards a residence for women alcoholics where my wife worked and when I entered the front door of the house my wife spotted me from the kitchen and started towards me but halted mid-way and looked at me oddly with her face changing expression like a kaleidoscope being adjusted to bring the colored stones at the bottom into focus finally she said to me "what happened to you?" holy toledo
Bud Osborn
the fine art of losing it Do you recognise the downtown any more or are the big picture people destroying what you once cherished but wait there's more: The Air Force Landscapin~ Company is at it again, the poor now live in the n 2 -most-expensive city on this planet Saint Minus believes we're letting the Earth pay the bills & he
. grey & black, every intersection to death
can't stand it promise after promise make liars out of every politician the bullshit never stops as another one says they will soon end, people are lining up like lambs to the slaughter to live in this city if you are looking for the humanitarian of the year you won't find him here & that is a pity one person's beautification is another's nauseatingly sick reaction to absolute change, like the prequel to the holy bible soon to be on sale or the latest in garbage cans in tranquil colours that from a distance remind me of looking thru rockhard loaves of thrown away bread that tasted oh so stale ... How many of us really do not have to worry about dying of old age, like wondering which ocean has the most used guns at the bottom -the Pacific or the Atlantic- soon we will be plugging into Nature so many evils & each in its o.wn way become so tragic a world full of empty people (or just empty-headed) well Monty what's behind Door #2?! surprize bloody surprize it's a selfishist eating table They eat with forklifts & spoons the size of shovels you miserable bastards We are the ones with rampant troubles losing more of our rights everyday & like a blind man on a tightrope unable to find a cure you may now burn down Door #Two, Like hanging out with Islamic prophets we thee unworthy have become doormats & nobody whatsoever will stop it it's as if we of the DTES of a once truly voluptuous place named Vancouver are being outlined in chalk in an array of colours from white to
is being high-priced
Give me the ruins so pristine & perfect in the moonlit dark but then they're torn down for another skyscraper & can only be seen by disappointment what a mess the art oflosing your mind let alone land that can never be taken back never ever taken back, like that distant display of colours once abundantly bright becoming darker each day because of unavailable light.. memories slowly slipping away, ..sometimes it's as if! am constantly seeing seashell shocks by the seaside selling seashells shining by the storic size of the shell-shocked seaside am I losing my mind someone please tell me the name of today's day, I know wars will come go & come back again but my mind of peace is gone I guess the next stop is the dead end if there is a god will I even remember his name? I have gone on too long so this will be my mid-life swan song be it dementia Alzheimer's Saint Minus give me strength to stay sane By ROBERT McGILLIVRA Y
"A loaded gun won't set youfree"
so you say! -Ian Curtis
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THIS NEWSLETIER IS A PUBLICATION OF THE CARNEGIE COMMUNITY CENTRE ASSOCIATION Articles represent the views of individual contributors and not of the Association. WANTED Artwork for the Carnegie Newsletter • • • • • • • •
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MONDAY MARCH 30th Next issue: SUBMISSION DEADLINE
Small illustrations to accompany articles and poetry. Cover art - Max size: 17cm(6 '/.')wide x 15cm(6')high. Subject matter pertaining to issues relevant to the Downtown Eastside, but all work considered. Black & White printing only. Size restrictions apply (Le. if your piece is too large, it will be reduced and/or cropped to fit). .AII artists will receive credit for their work. Originals will be returned to the artist after being copied for publication. Remuneration: Camegie Volunteer Tickets Please make submissions to Paul Taylor, Editor. The editor can edit for clarity, format & brevity, but not at the expense of the writers message.
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