The Well

January 22, 2026

The Well

By Ray Fast

The view from the bottom of a well? Uncomfortable. A dull grey tube ending in a circle of azure sky. Dry at the moment, but the mind could picture it filled with water which would steal warmth from anyone trying to exit this tomb either floating or scaling the featureless walls. Shiver.

Jack, my father in law purchased a vacation property on Denman Island in 1972. A getaway to be enjoyed by my in laws and for use by the extended family. The current inhabitants, blackberry bushes and a few stunted trees and a menagerie of birds checking the state of ripeness of the fruit. It featured a bald spot in the middle of the half acre lot and it had a shallow well cleverly camouflaged with logs and boards at the level of the surrounding ground. It will fill in the winter months, we were informed, and then run dry in the summer. Just the season when camping and visiting was the best time for all those intent on spending some time here. A close inspection of the well that late spring revealed it not completely secured from entry by small animals. An accumulation of mice and snakes had taken swimming lessons after they had ventured under the makeshift cover. Not, the best situation for water with responsibility for human hygiene and consumption. The best solution? A deeper well. Securely lined. Tight fitting cover, locked against the inevitable tampering by future grandchildren. All agreed.

Jack secured the services of a back hoe operator (one of the Isbister clan) familiar with the digging of wells on the island and provider of well rings which would form the sides of the well.

“W” day finally arrived. Jack and Alf (another son in law conscripted for the occasion) were on hand with myself and Isbister to begin the project. All the ladies were kept back at a safe distance from the action, the heavy equipment and the language that may emit from the participants should something start to “go south”. The on site soil had a generous portion of sand. We had been previously advised work would, by necessity, proceed quickly to avoid the walls of the excavation from falling in before

the rings were placed one on top of each other in the crater. With the location carefully chosen, near the old well but not too near the old well, the back hoe waddled into place and sat down on stabilizing feet. A mountain of soil rose within reach of the mechanical arm. Immediately it was evident that the parched soil was giving way and the possibly of a cave in would reverse the efforts before the desired depth was attained. The hasty decision was made to place the rings in the hole at the depth we had achieved. Four of the interlocking rings were moved into place. An orphaned ring left staring at is sibling adjacent to Mount Sandy. Would it not have been nice to get that extra few feet down to get a better water supply, not to mention completing the ring family reunion? The solution, reached by crew consensus, was to put one person down the well with a bucket to manually scoop soil around the base of the bottom ring and all the rings would then settle down further without collapsing the sides which were already covering two and a half rings. A ladder was lowered into the vertical concrete pipe.

Having picked the short straw, I descended with a bucket tied to a rope. With the ladder withdrawn, I scooped the soil around the bottom of the lowest ring and it obediently settle a few inches with the assistance of gravity and the weight of the other rings positioned on each others shoulders like a circus act. The happy orphan on the top. The crew topside pulled the bucket and dumped the contents before lowering it back down for an encore performance. When Jack decided that the topmost ring was deep enough and yet still high enough above the surround ground to prevent entry of surface run off storm water, he called a halt to the process.

There I was looking up from the bottom of the well, waiting for a ladder, while the crew above joked that it may be better to leave me, except that it would result in tainted water.

Monster Hunters ch.4

January 22, 2026

Monster Hunters ch.4

by Quinn Ireland

“Twelve years ago, this school was cursed by an evil demon,” said Johnny. Ben leaned in and listened closely. “The demon’s name was Tyborwink. He is named this because if he winks at you, you are cursed.” “What does Tyborwink look like?” asked Ben. “The most horrible, scary demon imaginable,” answered Johnny, “No person ever dares to look at his face, unless you want to be winked at.” Johnny shivered at the thought. “And what does getting winked at do, is it bad?” asked Ben. “Oh, it’s horrible,” replied Johnny, “The second he winks at any living person, they are cursed with a hellish life living in fear of everything.” Ben thought about this for a moment before his mind drifted back to what the teacher had called him. “Who’s the sword slayer?” He asked. Johnny remained silent. “You… are the sword slayer,” he finally said, shifting from foot to foot. “And why am I called that?” asked Ben. He needed all the information that could be told. “Because you are the only person destined to defeat Tyborwink.” Johnny’s answer was simple but explained a lot. Tears stung Ben’s eyes. He still didn’t think that this entire world was real, knowing that he had to confront the biggest threat to people with magic powers. “But why me?” He asked after a long, droning silence. We have no idea ” replied Johnny, “But we were given this assignment, to locate Ben Vinkenhut, and bring him to Monsterschool.” The girl nodded her head and spoke; “It just so happened that the kid we needed was Johnny’s best friend, so… it’s a win-win.” “Well… how can I defeat this… Tyborwink?” was all that he could get out. “You just need to unleash your inner Monster Hunter,” said the girl with a smile. Ben didn’t understand how she could smile at a time like this. Maybe because she didn’t have a task like he did, having to defeat a Demon and all. “By the way, I’m Kepler, Kepler Kamoni.” She reached out a hand for Ben to shake. They shook hands. Just then, Mr. Goodsnick entered the classroom. “Well, our first class starts now,” said Johnny. “What?” Ben stared at Johnny and Kepler. He almost forgot what Kepler looked like during the craziness. She was almost as tall as Johnny with long straight black hair and jade eyes. “I’m sorry about all of this Ben, but we need you.” Her smile gave Ben hope. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had friends there to support him. Soon, students that looked to be thirteen and fourteen, filed into the room. Everyone revved up the chatter. ” Hey, hey! Settle down everyone.” said Mr. Goodsnick, “I know it’s Tuesday.” “What did he just say?” whispered Ben to Johnny. “Our weekend is Wednesday and Thursday.” Johnny whispered back. Ben took the time to study the kids in the classroom. All the thirteen-year-old students wore dark green capes, with a dark blue long-sleeved shirt with pants and brown boots. Johnny and Kepler wore the same clothes. The fourteen-year-olds wore blazing red capes with orange pants and a yellow shirt, complete with blue boots. “Good morning class!” said Mr. Goodsnick in a cheery voice, “Please get out your textbooks and turn to page fifty-eight.” Johnny quickly put up his hand, then he pointed at Ben. “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry, Ben! He then motioned for Ben to come up in front of the class. “We have a new student class.” said Mr. Goodsnick, “This is Ben. Everyone turned and whispered to one another. Ben hated being the center of attention, he was always shy to everyone except Johnny. “Quiet please!” “I’m sure Ben is not comfortable with all of this babbling!” said Mr.Goodsnick with his voice raised. Then with one fast hand motion, he directed Ben back to his seat. “Now, like I said, turn to page fifty-eight.” He said. “Ben, you can pair up with Kepler.” So, Ben scooted his chair over to Kepler’s desk. The first question in the textbook said: What is the difference between a Goptottum and a Sallved? “Easy!” said Kepler a little too loudly, “A Sallved has three more spikes!” “What are those things?” asked Ben. “Goptottum’s are bred in captivity.” explained Kepler, whereas Sallved’s live in the woods of no life.” Ben shivered at the name. “Don’t worry,” Kepler chuckled, “I’m sure that we’ll learn about those woods in our next class, dangerous forests.” Slowly but surely, Ben was learning more about this mysterious world.

Regime Change The US Empire

January 22, 2026

CAITLIN JOHNSTONE

JAN 18

I support regime change in the United States. The real kind, not the “new face at the front desk every few years” kind.

I’m all for overthrowing tyrannical power structures, I just think we should start with the worst one.

Why should I support the violent overthrow of the US empire’s enemies while the US empire itself remains standing? Why should I want to help the one power structure that’s terrorizing and destroying nations around the world with the goal of total planetary domination? Why should I facilitate the propaganda campaign of the latest imperial regime change operation by talking about the tyranny and oppressiveness of the Official Bad Guy of the Day when it will do nothing but help the empire expand its global hegemony?

In all these years no one has ever been able to give me a satisfactory answer to these questions. And I have asked them many times, in many different ways.

If I’m at a crowded pub and there’s one guy going around beating people up and taking their wallets, I’m not going to be focused on the character of his victims, I’m going to be paying attention to the most glaring and urgent abuse dynamic in the room. Nobody else is mass murdering, starving and robbing populations around the world like the US and its allies are doing. No other power structure comes anywhere close.

The US power alliance is unquestionably the most destructive and abusive entity in our world, and it also happens to be the power structure under which I live. This gives me a special responsibility to oppose its abuses.

The only reason everything I just said isn’t completely obvious to everyone is because we live in a mind-controlled dystopia where people are aggressively propagandized from birth into believing our rulers are more or less the Good Guys and the nations they target are more or less the Bad Guys. That’s the only reason anyone thinks it makes sense to watch my tirades against US warmongering and go “Hmm and yet you have nothing bad to say about Iran and Russia? You must be getting PAID by them!”

Over the years I’ve been accused of being a paid propagandist or secret agent for Russia, China, Iran, Qatar, Hamas, Hezbollah, Venezuela, Syria, Cuba, North Korea, and probably some others I’ve forgotten. People who live in the western empire make these assumptions whenever they see me opposing the latest imperial power grab because they’re so propaganda-addled that they cannot conceive of the possibility of someone standing against the empire’s abuses on principle. Their minds flail around searching for reasons for my behavior, and all they can come up with is that I’m some kind of state operative.

People act like my focusing my criticisms on the western empire is a sign of something malignant and suspicious, but it isn’t. It’s not strange that I focus my criticisms on the western empire, it’s strange that everyone else does not. If we didn’t live in a civilization where our psyches are continually assaulted by a deluge of empire propaganda from every direction, nothing I’m saying here would even need to be explained.

Regime change the United States. Not its fake official elected government: its real government. The oligarchs and government agencies which actually run the thing. Replace its empire managers and empire management institutions with real democracy which gives the American people real authority over the actions of their own government, rather than the fake decoy elections they have now.

Regime change the United States, and regime change all its imperial member states. Australia. The UK. Israel. Canada. The EU. The entire imperial core.

If you have done this and you still want to talk about how mean and bad the Iranian government is, THEN I might listen to you. THEN I might take some interest in what you have to say.

Until then, you’re just one more mindless imperial bootlicker trying to advance the interests of the power structure under which you live.

January Fog, Beadnell Creek

January 22, 2026

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crack

January 22, 2026

#1718

January 22, 2026

Avi Lewis for NDP Leader (Editorial)

January 15, 2026

Avi Lewis for NDP Leader (Editorial)

by Keith Porteous

The Canadian partisan landscape has taken a dramatic move to the right, with the Liberals governing with conservative policies, corporate tax cuts, more pipelines, and less environmental review and First Nations consent. They’ve raised Canada’s military budget by 150%, while implementing an austerity budget for working people. These are Pierre Poilievre’s Conservative policies under a Liberal banner.

Even while supporting Gord Johns as our local MP, I had mostly abandoned partisan politics. The NDP had evolved into a Liberal-Lite party, and the Liberals had become a centre-right party. The Greens had become irrelevant, and they have not moved the needle under Elizabeth May’s leadership. Gord Johns was attentive to important local issues in Parliament, pressing on the absence of shipbreaking regulations.

We now have an opportunity to reclaim a more authentic Leftist party in the NDP leadership race with Avi Lewis’s candidacy. He and his partner Naomi Klein have been champions of real Left politics in Canada for more than 25 years. The NDP leadership had drifted to the centre resulting in only 7 NDP members left in Parliament, and the 2025 election of international banker and hedge fund manager, Mark Carney.

The vast Leftist political space has been abandoned, and Avi represents the best opportunity to re-occupy it. He has innovative ideas for working people, the environment, the elderly, and the marginalized, but he also brings the populist Left characteristics of NDP pioneers like Tommy Douglas, and his father Stephen Lewis, former UN Ambassador to the United Nations. Avi is committed, bright, and a gifted communicator.

My faith in State sponsored partisan politics has not returned, but I am willing to make some compromises in order to give voice to those of us who oppose war and corporatism, as a bulwark against the worst and most pernicious policies of the Liberal-Conservative governing duopoly. We simply cannot rely on the 1% to deal with the current crisis’, and we cannot have social and environmental justice without economic justice.

If you wish to vote in the NDP leadership contest in March, you must be a member of the NDP by January 28, costing you a mere $10. You can just search “NDP membership” online to join. You can find Avi’s policy proposals on his “Lewis For Leader” website, outlining his bold ideas for food, housing, and the basics of living in this time of economic struggle for most families and individuals. It’s time to reclaim the Left.

Shucking Oysters: King Would Have a Nightmare

January 15, 2026

Shucking Oysters: King Would Have a Nightmare

By Alex Allen

“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…From every mountainside, let freedom ring…And when this happens, and when we allow freedom 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.”

August 28, 1963 on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, Martin Luther King Jr delivered perhaps the most powerful speech ever: “I Have a Dream.” Today, his January 15th birthday is recognized on the third Monday in January. King was the kind of leader who comes along once in a lifetime. With no surprise, he was assassinated April 4, 1968, one of four tragic and still questionable assassinations during the 60s in the United States (President John F. Kennedy, African American activist Malcolm X, and Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy).

And so, it was with great irony, that last year Trump made his Inauguration Speech on Martin Luther King Day. The weather worked in his favour. Due to freezing temperatures and high winds, it was held inside the Capitol rotunda, known for its grand scale and marble flooring. “To the Black and Hispanic communities, I want to thank you for the tremendous outpouring of love and trust that you have shown me with your vote. We set records and I will not forget it…Today is Martin Luther King Day. And … in his honor, we will strive together to make his dream a reality. We will make his dream come true.” Really?? Yes, we know you’ve been busy, but still.

During the Civil Rights Movement, leaders and activists demanded not only change but a better world. They marched for it. They were arrested for it. They died for it. Nothing has changed. Martin Luther King Day is a day when American politicians pretend to care about the life and legacy of one of the wisest souls who had the audacity to try to make America great.

Take President Trump (will someone please?), who after signing a bill turning King’s birthplace into a national park, days later referred to El Salvador, Haiti and all countries in Africa as “shit hole countries.”

If Martin Luther King was alive today, he would be 96 years old and have lived through many difficult times. He could have been a diplomat, written a few best-sellers and done the talk show circuit. He might have appeared on SNL and wrote a cookbook. But if he wrote his “I Have a Dream” speech today, would it be the same?

His speech was not just about African American rights; it was about human dignity and compassion. King’s dream was a powerful reminder that the struggle for equality is not just a racial issue but a human one, where everyone must be recognized as equal and deserving of respect.

King urged his people to “not be guilty of wrongful deeds…not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.” He highlighted the importance of nonviolence in pursuing social change. He encouraged people to rise above hatred and resentment. “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.” It is at this horrific juncture that all Americans should heed his words.

Imagine what Martin Luther King would say about the killing of George Floyd and Black Lives Matter. Imagine what King would do about the sheer cruelty of ICE and the Trump Administration. Imagine King watching the video of “domestic terrorist” Renee Good being shot three times in the face for trying to get out of the way. Imagine.

Now imagine what the Department of War would do to King when he spoke out against the US in Vietnam. Homeland Security would surely have locked him up when he said “if we continue, there will be no doubt in my mind and in the mind of the world that we have no honorable intentions in Vietnam” and that “the world now demands a maturity of America that we may not be able to achieve.” Nothing has changed.

And only in America…On the first federal Martin Luther King Day in 1986, a Washington, DC radio DJ, Doug “Greaseman” Tracht suggested that if they kill four more they could have the whole week off. His disgusting sentiment highlights the systemic racism in the US, particularly in the Southern states. Tracht apologized to his listeners and apparently that was enough because he still kept his job.

Then in February 1999 karma finally reared it’s ugly head. After playing the song “Doo Wop (That Thing)” by Black hip-hop artist Lauryn Hill, Tracht shared on air, “No wonder people drag them behind trucks.” The comment was in reference to the unfathomable 1998 murder of James Byrd Jr, an African-American man who was chained to a pickup truck and dragged to death by white supremacists in Jasper, Texas. This was 27 years ago people. 27 years – the average age of an Influencer today.

The public outcry finally led to Tracht being suspended and subsequently fired. He also lost his position as a volunteer deputy sheriff in Falls Church, Virginia, a town rich in colonial history. Tracht eventually apologized, calling his comment a grave error in judgment and a result of “mindless stupidity.” One has to wonder what mindful stupidity would look like.

Americans have a talent for rewriting history. In 1967 in reference to the Vietnam war, King warned us: “Don’t let anybody make you think God chose America as His divine messianic force to be a sort of policeman of the whole world.” Nothing has changed.

And if we truly were judged by the content of our character and not the colour of our skin, the US President, Vice President, and all the uncivil Officers of the United States would be charged with treason, bribery, hate crime and other horrific misdemeanours. Meanwhile, in honour of Martin Luther King Jr, please take a moment to listen to “King” by UB40 and dream the impossible dream.

No Simple Answers, Navigating the Complexity of Decolonization When There is No Clear Path (But We Wish There Was)-a half day workshop with Sage Armitage

January 15, 2026

No Simple Answers, Navigating the Complexity of Decolonization When There is No Clear Path (But We Wish There Was)-a half day workshop with Sage Armitage

This workshop is a compassionate, non‑judgmental space for people who value deep nature connection, Indigenous Land sovereignty and community-building and are committed to decolonization. For people who are passionate about social change yet feel stuck, worried about making harmful mistakes, being called out, or simply not knowing where to begin in the messy terrain of decolonization. It’s designed for caregivers, creatives, healers, and social organizers who have already explored what solidarity means to them but have hit a wall, and who crave authentic, values‑based decision‑making without dogma or rigid scripts.

A blend of Non‑Violent Communication and connection‑based models offer a radical re‑framing: a deep‑seated shift that asks participants to dismantle the inherited narratives that portray colonialism as a distant historical footnote and to view the fear of “getting it wrong” as a symptom of a punitive cancel‑culture rather than a personal flaw. This radical re-framing of the situation is needed for people to be resourced to make the decisions that are right for them while also responding compassionately and responsibly to the harms of colonization.

Sunday, Feb 1st, 10AM-1PM

See www.sagefacilitation.com/no-simple-answers for more information.

All proceeds will go towards supporting the Sla-dai-aich Rest and Recovery Network. e-transfer $10 to philippajoly@gmail.com to register. The rest can be paid at the door on a sliding scale, $10-$80, no one turned away for lack of funds.

Phoenix Riting! – January 15th, 2026

January 15, 2026

I’ve been trying to come up with something local to write about, but my brain is too full of the world. This year has gotten off to a boggling start. Wait, America is an actual Evil Empire? And they’re saying the quiet part out loud?

I will stay out of politics and return to something else that keeps getting weirder: AI. I had dealings with AI again recently, and while impressively helpful, it is also weird and frustratingly time-wasting.

The trouble boils down to this: AI is not a person, but it mimics personhood so well that it fools you into expecting it to approach a problem the way a person would. But it can’t.

This week I had to wipe my MacBook’s hard drive and perform a factory reset with a selective reinstalthe l. I only use the laptop for specific tasks, and I didn’t want the hard drive filled with unnecessary stuff that lives on my iMac, because that’s what led to its previous issues. Turns out this wasn’t a straightforward task, and I ran into a lot of problems. I turned to ChatGPT for help after Google failed me.

I described the situation in detail, told it what I was trying to accomplish and asked, how do I safely do this? It gave me a series of steps, laid out in detail. I followed the steps exactly as given. Problems proliferated as a consequence. I asked what had happened?

It reassured me that nothing was wrong. It wrapped this reassurance in a lot of unnecessary filler before offering the next set of instructions. This kept happening, over and over. It kept telling me to breathe, to relax. It said, “This feels catastrophic, but it’s not.” It said, “This is not user error.” It said, “Take a breath with me for a moment.” I had given it no cues that I was panicked or even worried. I was simply asking how to fix the problem.

Finally, I lost patience and said, “Please stop treating me like I am panicking. I’m not. You are projecting (can an AI do that?). Assume I am calm and looking for solutions. What next?”

That seemed to resolve that particular issue. But each new set of instructions revealed other problems. It continued to pretend to be a person. That drives me nuts. I wish I could turn that off! It thanked me repeatedly for sticking with the task, assured me that my question was reasonable and understandable. Again and again, it told me it knew exactly what the issue was, and what I should have done instead of what it had just told me to do.

Repeat this about fifteen times before we finally got it right.

It wasn’t so much that it got things wrong, but that it never gave me all the information I needed. At one point it laid out a long list of steps I should take. I read through them carefully, only to reach the final one, which said something like, “And unless you want to keep your files, you should…” I absolutely did want to keep those files; in fact, that was the whole point of my question.

At the very end of this long list, it added, “Since you want to keep the files, don’t do that.”

By then, I had learned not to perform tasks in order but to read everything thoroughly first. Because it is an algorithm, incapable of logic, reason, or comprehension, capable only of calculation, it couldn’t arrive at the simple conclusion that it should only tell me what will work. It seemed compelled to me also all the things that wouldn’t work, without distinguishing between them. Most often, I didn’t discover that something didn’t work until I completed the task and had to go back to square one.

Ultimately, we succeeded because I kept backups throughout. I learned some things. You have to stay on your toes when dealing with AI. Think it through. Test things in a non-destructive way. Back everything up. Don’t be fooled by its chatty, friendly, human-like style.

Again, it isn’t human. It’s pure uncanny valley. You have to be precise with your prompts. You are not talking to a techie friend who can figure it out for you. You still have to know enough to ask the correct questions.

I don’t want to have to learn how to think like a machine. But now I know a lot more about how a machine thinks than I did before, and that knowledge is not welcome in my brain. It will be useful, though, in this brave new world.

Now I’ll put on Wise Teacher Hat and bring it home:

The most important time or place in your life is the one you are in right now. This breath you’re breathing is crucial. It’s the only moment when you can decide, move, act, or do anything at all. This moment is your interface with the world.

In your head, there’s space for imaginary places, past and future, hopes and dreams. But whenever you do anything, think, write, breathe, walk, talk, play music or literally anything else, you have to do it now.

It sounds glib and obvious, but it’s not. The more attention you pay in this moment, to your breath, to the words you’re speaking or writing, to your surroundings, the more power you invest and the more influence you can wield in your life, touch others and imbue your surroundings with your presence.

Deep thoughts! You’re welcome.

Thanks to all who have contacted me, by email or over the apples at the Co‑op, to comment on this column. Bless you all.

May love find and hold you in this coming apocryphal year, with fake news flooding our brains, a global pandemic of the mind, and a potential apocalypse looming like a dread thunderhead.

We’ve got this. There’s no harm in a little faith. I believe that. Also, be afraid, but don’t believe the stories out there. Everything is misinformation.

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