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Letter to the Editor – Duranne Anderson

Dear Editor

I was really happy to read Perri Gorrara’s letter from Albert Einstein about the power of love.

I believe it’s true that love is the strongest power of all and yet it can be the hardest to find, describe or deliver in challenging situations. We’re thrashing and flailing around in our very human forms stoically and righteously carrying our baggage and judgements. We think we’ve personally got the right and only answer but many of us, myself included, quite honestly don’t even know most of what we’re lugging along with us.

Many people these days are working in the field of energy to bypass the human and go straight to Source, Spirit, Universe or whatever word may speak to them. There’s a guy called Matt Kahn and many others doing this kind of work globally. If you feel called to do so check out Matt Kahn’s Youtube video about frustration. It’s a new frontier. I know there are many others working globally to bring love to the planet including but not limited to religious organizations of course. I don’t think Albert Einstein told us HOW to work with love but I think we can figure it out.

Duranne Anderson

Shucking Oysters: Falling Back

Shucking Oysters: Falling Back

By Alex Allen

Daylight Saving Time (DST). Either you love it or you don’t. I think it depends on whether you’re a morning or a night person. I’m a two in the afternoon person. I do love the extra hour in the fall, however. I don’t like the fact that we have to give it back in the spring. Someone once wrote that DST is like the government cutting off the bottom of a blanket and sewing it back on the top and saying ,”see its longer now.” Unless, you’re hibernating, you may have noticed that we already are starting to experience shorter daylight hours. It’s just that after November 5, it will be even darker for another four months. 

The changing of the clocks has been a topic of debate for years. Ontario unanimously passed the Time Amendment Act in 2020, and is waiting for New York and Quebec to get on board. BC passed a similar bill to make daylight time permanent in 2019 after 93% of residents voiced their support (I was one). Like Ontario, BC is waiting for Washington, Oregon and California to make the first move. 

In the US, Hawaii and Arizona (with the exception of the Navajo Nation), as well as some territories, do not observe DST. In Canada, permanent daylight time is currently only observed in northwestern BC, Creston, BC, Yukon, most of Saskatchewan, and a few other odd spots. Creston has one of the most peculiar time zones in Canada. The town is in the eastern part of BC, but over a century ago CP Rail decided to put the valley and the East Kootenays in the mountain time zone, aligning them with Alberta. That means Creston is on Pacific time in the summer and mountain time for the other seasons.

The real reasons for daylight saving are based on energy conservation and a desire to match daylight hours to the times when most people are awake. Despite predictions of reduced consumption, data indicating energy savings has been elusive. But the benefits of this change are controversial. For one, our dog does not like it all. What do you mean, I have to wait an hour to get fed? And then finally, he’s adjusted to the time change in March and then we go, sorry we’re going back again. Every year. The poor schmuck. 

After the clocks change, it can take some of us a week or two to adjust to our new sleep pattern. But the bigger problem comes from what sleep researchers oddly call “social jet lag,” where people suffer from disrupted sleep, mental and physical fatigue, metabolism issues and more. I get the “jet lag” part but not the “social” part. While springing forward is more associated with negative health effects, falling back has been linked to depression, cluster headaches, and Seasonal Affective Disorder.

The connection between DST and sleep disturbances in people with Alzheimer’s and dementia is also particularly concerning, as sleep plays a vital role in cognitive function and memory consolidation. Sleep disturbances can exacerbate the cognitive decline, making it even more difficult for individuals to perform daily activities and maintain independence.

Some say the ideal solution is to switch to permanent standard time. But if we are going to have daylight time, it should begin later in the year to ensure that there’s more morning light for early risers. Another brilliant suggestion is having the clocks change on Friday nights to give people more time over the weekend to adjust.

But the downsides of night time light are not always crystal clear. One study, for example, suggested that year-round DST would reduce deer-vehicle collisions. But studies like these can be hard to interpret. Other factors may come into play, like deer’s seasonal activity and changing road conditions. 

Beside making the world seem like a darker place, one annual effect of this event is a huge amount of studies proclaiming that DST is a bad idea that needs to end. It doesn’t really help anyone, they say, but it does throw off sleep patterns. 

Dan Nosowitz wrote in Popular Mechanics: “What these articles and arguments tend to ignore is that DST is a bizarre idea in the best way possible: It is a human attempt to force our lives to fit the natural world in a more sensible way, to #lifehack ourselves into a pattern of living that benefits our minds and bodies. DST is both a rebellion against the clock and an acceptance that we are all slaves to the clock.”

In reality, DST is an eight-month experiment designed to make life apparently more pleasurable for us human beings. Getting exercise, spending time outside in the morning, and light therapy can help during the fall and winter. A 2019 study found that there is a magic number of hours we need to spend outside each week to see a positive net gain in health and well-being. That number is two. Interestingly, five hours a week outside offered no additional health benefits. Plus, when we go outside, we spend more time in face-to-face interactions with real live human beings. Something that most of us have been out of practice with for the last two years. A few extra minutes outside each week smiling at other people’s faces is not a bad thing. Unless, of course, they don’t smile back because their suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder. 

Letter to the Editor – Dan Bruiger

While expressing a lovely sentiment, it’s highly doubtful that the the purported Letter from Einstein to his daughter, Lieserl, was written by Einstein himself. See https://www.huffpost.com/entry/the-truth-behind-einsteins-letter-on-the-universal-force-of-love_b_7949032

Dan Bruiger

(Editor’s note: The Huffington Post article cited does not conclude that Einstein did or did not compose the letter referenced.)

Kentucky Fried Warrior

CS# 05943451

March 29th, 2007

Kentucky Fried Warrior

So yesterday, the guys on the Farm Crew are busy doing as they do. Working with the mill, tending after the chickens, driving about in the tractor. Farm stuff. It was this crew that Sean ‘Fur Dog’ Miller worked on during his time in jail. It was also this crew that chided and at times derided the Big Dawg for his tendency to shit talk. Tales of his outside life, his past, were met with much skepticism as they broached on the improbable to most. 

“Third ranked B.M.X. biker in the world,” as an example. 

“$1.2 million dollar pot transactions,” being another. 

It seems that as Furry’s discharge was nearing, he spoke of how he was going to bring the boys chicken for lunch one day. He even went so far as to say that he’d be wearing camouflage. Whether this was a nod to the thoroughness of his plan or simply his preferred garb I can’t say. But while the farm crew was in the midst of their day who should happen to appear on a bike, but Sean. What tickles me about this development is that while we, on Crew #2, were having our climactic moment over OUR lunches, locked in discussion with S.C.O. Wight on the side of the highway some 45 kilometres north of the jail, Furry, all 260 pounds of him dressed in camouflage, comes wobbling onto restricted grounds on his bike with a bucket of chicken tucked under his arm! He followed through. Not a thing that he said during his entire stay here was regarded as truth by most he talked to. And he did like to talk. But there it was. A chicken lunch for the boys. I suspect that for some on the Farm Crew, they never imagined that crow would taste so much like chicken! 

Envisioning this rather large fellow in camouflage, perched atop a bicycle with a red and white emblazoned bucket under his wing is simply too comical! I can almost hear the sad but plucky squeak of his wheels. For Sean, attempts to keep from standing out can’t help but fail for nothing about the Big Dawg is inconspicuous. Where the success of his play bore fruit was in the element of surprise. Not a one of the farm crew really put much stock in what he’d said he’d do so there was no anticipation drawing heat.

Too often promises are made by inmates about to be discharged. Promises that stoke anticipation among the reds who remain. It’s an anticipation that can build to the point of being conspicuous and chance ruining any ‘play.’ Such is the desperation. The fact of the matter is most often the newly departed is never heard from again. Leaving the remainders to feel the swoon of dashed hopes. And this can seal one’s Correctional Systems reputation. Don’t follow through on your promises and you’ll forever be labelled a ‘Goof.’ And should a ‘Goof’ find themselves back in jail they’ll immediately be assigned to Protective Custody for their own safety. But in Furry’s instance, and to his credit, he DID what said he’d do. And for this, the Fur Dog ascends to the revered rank of ‘Warrior.’ 

Kudos to the Big Dawg. It doesn’t necessarily convince the guys all that he proclaimed could actually be truth but I’m told the chicken sure tasted good.

Spiralling conflict or evolving reconciliation

Spiralling conflict or evolving reconciliation? Part One

By Eartha Muirhead

I am haunted by this deep truth: “In and through community lies the salvation of the world….for the human race today is on the brink of self-annihilation.” M. Scott Peck wrote these words in 1987.  

There are a few very distressing conflicts on this island that I am aware of. How can we, as part of the global community of justice-seeking folks,  support reconciliation for those involved? I feel despair, disappointment and the absurdity of these intractable situations and want to offer some personal insights.

The well-being of a community begins with the individual taking responsibility for their own mental health; aka “the personal is political.” Blame, ill-will, spite, resentment, anger, deceit, contempt, etc. can be observed and then let go of. Understanding the danger of holding onto reactivity and unskillful attitudes allows me to choose alternatives. Just like a stained cloth, when dyed, does not result in a consistent color, so too, if I pretend that I have no shortcomings, my actions will manifest as passive-aggressive. Watching my mind, without fear of the “shadow” eventually softens my defenses and opens me up to self-compassion and then to compassion for the other. From that place, I can face conflict without antagonism or the need to retaliate. Deconstructing my conditioning to appear to be perfect and to hide my mistakes only fuels the spiral of creating enemies. Accepting my fear-based patterning can help me look at conflict as an opportunity not as a catastrophe. 

I am not suggesting that anyone go along with injustice, abuse or violence. Having clear boundaries is an act of self-compassion. I am asking all “equal” parties in a conflict to see the others’ perspective and their attempt, however misguided, to meet their needs. For this next week, what is one thing you can do to reinvest in the spirit of collective cohesion on this small bountiful island? 

Scott Peck ends his book “The Different Drum” by saying: “There is evil in the world and community is it’s natural ENEMY.” Maybe we can have enemies and not turn our hearts away from them but learn from them about the human need for accountability, community and belonging.

Phoenix Riting! – November 2nd, 2023

It’s All Hallow’s Eve, or Hallowe’en, or Samhain, or the Day of the Dead, choose your label. In many cultures, on this night the veils thin and the dead, spirits, ghosts, ghouls, are freed to walk the earth. Back in the day, Hallowe’en was a potent and magical time on Hornby. Yes, Hallowe’en used to be different. At the big adult Hallowe’en parties at the Hall, everybody came costumed and most stayed in character. It was a break from normal, a journey into archetypal realms where we could forget ourselves and open up to inspiration from other realms.

 

For example, I recall Hallowe’en of 1994. I costumed myself in a black-and-silver checked outfit with silver and abstract face paint. Letting my artistic instincts guide me, I had no thought of what I was supposed to ‘be’. The question didn’t occur to me until I was finished, when I looked in the mirror and wondered, what am I? An art piece? Or? I heard a voice in my head whispering, “Greetings. I am an exchange student from the Pleiades. What species are you?”

That became my character. I went to the dance at the Hall and immersed myself in my role. Creatures of unknown species swarmed the space and my visitor was curious about them, she had been sent to Earth to learn, after all. First of all, she was shocked to discover that starfish are not the dominant species on our planet, as her people believed.

 

She introduced herself to many thus: “Greetings. I am an exchange student from the Pleiades. What species are you?” The answers were all in character and fascinating, hilarious, insightful. The conversation that stands out in my memory was a three way exchange between my visitor, the Pope and Wednesday Addams. The Pope was very interested in the spiritual traditions of my visitor’s home planet. Wednesday was more interested in how we might taste.

 

She (my visitor) was the first of her species, a despised inferior race, to to achieve the honour of being a foreign exchange student. She was disappointed to learn that she was not visiting a starfish community. She spent quite a while explaining how their light outlines the continents of earth, and how impressive it is that they live only in the places of power, where the sea meets land subject to the tides. She felt it was a mark of her inferiority that she was merely the guest of a human. It seems we are viewed by her people as an invasive parasite rather than the highly evolved apex species we see ourselves to be. It was humbling.

 

Did I make it all up? Of course I did. That’s how creativity works. But creativity is a power, and when a room full of people are all exercising their creative powers at once, on the night when the veils thin and possibilities expand, strange and illuminating things can happen. Since the turn of the millennium, possibilities seem to be shrinking on the magical end of the spectrum as they expand on the technological end. This trend can only go so far before the pendulum begins to swing back in the direction of weird, however.

 

We used to have incredible elaborate Hallowe’en parties at the Hall, where everybody worked hard to make a magical and scary experience for the kids of all ages. They were elaborately decorated, with games, a haunted house, all sorts of things. One year (post-millennium) I was asked to be a fortune teller. I was set up a little cave, draped with hangings, where I did simplified readings for the littles. There I was disheartened to discover the cynicism and worldliness of the modern child. I had brought a handcrafted fairy doll to role play with the kids, as I had not so many years before when my own kids were young, only to have nearly all of these miniature sophisticates–four and five year olds, most of them– inform me that they knew perfectly well that fairies aren’t real, don’t be silly. How sad.

 

I blame the internet, and I hope for the pendulum to swing back. Bring back the magic, the madness, the weird and strange, at least for Hallowe’en. I hope yours has been super weird and spooky. I’ll be going out to watch the fireworks and see if I can spot any new species, but probably going as myself, weird and strange as I already am. If Hallowe’en parties happened this year, I did not hear about them. (Note for next year: please invite me to your party!)

 

That’s what I think! What do you think? email me at phoenixonhornby@gmail.com

Dead Virus Effect

Ireland

Ireland

by Mr. Unknown

A great green island

Sit down for a brew

In drafty wood pubs

For an hour or two

The jewel of Europe

With legends passed down

St. Patrick the hero

His holiday is now crowned

Crumbly stone castles

And graveyards for view

On this emerald civilisation

Cheeriness is A hue

History is abundant

In Galic past time

Wars fought with England

For borders or lines

Immigrants came here

To escape potato famine

One quarter of canada

Became Irish in no time

Days are rich

Life is full

Sit down for a whisky

In paradise of great green lull

Baynes Sound Ship Breaking Protest

On Sunday, Oct. 22, The Concerned Citizens of Baynes Sound (CCOBS) held a well attended march to Highway 19A at the entrance of Deep Water Recovery, the ship-breaking company that has disrespected environmental stewardship of the foreshore In Union Bay. They are breaking up ships on the beach for the value of the metal, and the huge amount of toxicity contained in these old ships threatens the waters of Baynes Sound and the people who live here, in the highest producing aquaculture area in the Province. Deep Water Recovery has no social licence in Union Bay, and this is an issue that brings residents together from across the ideological spectrum. All residents of the Baynes Sound region have a stake in the health of the ocean.

The Comox Valley Regional District (CVRD) considers Deepwater Recovery in violation of land use bylaws, but has not been able to stop work on the site, pending a Provincial Court date to determine whether the CVRD jurisdiction and their bylaws are enforceable in this case. According to CVRD Area A Director Daniel Arbour, if the CVRD loses this case, the Province and Federal governments will be forced to decide whether they will regulate ship-breaking, and mandate proper containment measures. Currently, Canada, and indeed B.C., does not have the level of regulation of any other Western industrialized country. It’s beyond embarrassing, as our governments have made proclamations about dealing with derelict hulls all along our coastlines.

TIG has reported on this story, and will continue to follow it closely, as a Provincial Court date is expected prior to the end of 2023. 

https://concernedcitizensofbaynessoundorg.wordpress.com/

https://allthingsunionbay.com/

Rathtrevor Beach

CS# 05943451

Date: March 29, 2007 1:24 PM

Rathtrevor Beach

Curiously, there was a veritable cluster of blue shirts at the kitchen when we arrived to pick up our lunch this morning. In the wake of yesterday’s ‘Sandwich Summit,’ maybe they’d caught wind that the lunches were about to improve! In all of the milling around, it was discovered there were leftover hashed browns and hamburgers which had been cooked already. All that was needed was to reheat them. Crew #2 pounced at this and, with that, our prospects for a good day improved dramatically. 

With the wood chipper now repaired, we headed off under partly cloudy skies to Rathtrevor Beach for work today. Our task was to roam the 195 campsites, collecting and chipping branches that had come down over this winter’s wind storms. Well, we managed to make it to coffee break before the chipper started acting up again, much the same way as before taking it in to get repaired. Our plan for work once again foiled by equipment problems. Oh well. At least we had Hawaiian coffee. Mr. Wight, true to his word, remembered to bring the goods. And indeed, it WAS good.

After coffee break we abandoned our campsite clean-up and focussed on piling branches that were strewn about the parkland adjacent the sandy beach. It was quite something to be in jail, yet find yourself strolling the beach on a breezy, sunny mid morning. Choppy seas, people walking dogs, eagles suspended overhead on the updraft, the smell of sea salt on the nose. Truly unimaginable that this experience could be had when I learned I was going to jail. It is still a life restricted which keeps the enjoyment factor tamped down but, that being said, if I weren’t on the ‘outside crew’ my incarceration would be infinitely more dreary.

Breaking for lunch, we proceeded to feast on a more substantial meal than we’d had in weeks. Topped off with some more Hawaiian coffee. Victory never tasted so good! We’ll likely be back to substandard, ‘dietician approved’ lunches tomorrow because nothing lasts forever, but we were enjoying what it was we scraped and clawed for. Revelling in our victorious foils, we recounted our summit with Mr. Wight from yesterday. One knee slapper after another. Christ, does that Fred have a keen sense of humour! His presence on the crew is making my workdays all the more enjoyable. A hard worker, who isn’t afraid to ride the boss. Toss in his sharp wit, aimed at getting a quick laugh, and it makes the drudgery of our work feel more akin to a tree-planting atmosphere. He is only around for two more weeks but what he adds to the mix of our motley crew I appreciate, as do the others. And that’s not the coffee talking.