You may find it hard to believe, but something pissed me off this week. Subway has gone over to the dark side, switching from Pepsi to Coke. I am not an emotional person per se, but that one near put me over the edge. I don’t ask for much in life, and call me a corporate whore if you will, but honestly, is a glass of Pepsi with my sub too much to ask? Sigh. I think mid-term stress may be getting to me.
Prince Edward Island has once again proven itself to be the seat of intelligent thought. As reported in The Guardian last week, two businessmen were forced to duck for cover when pellets from a hunter’s gun in an adjoining field began hitting the side of their place of business. City councilor Bruce Garrity said that this was “pretty serious.” No way Bruce, really? Do you really think that the fact that people firing off shotguns in populated areas and having fragments flying across the Sherwood Road and hitting business complexes is really a problem? Noooo. The worst part is, city police Const. Gary Clow stated that the hunter was hunting LEGALLY. Yes, in the city of Charlottetown it is apparently entirely legal for a hunter to fire weapons that could consequently impede and seriously deter the driving ability of passing cars. Does this not seem a bit weird? That because someone wants to shoot at ducks, you could be driving along and shotgun fire could hit your car and that is a-ok with the Charlottetown Police? This isn’t Baghdad you know. This story was almost as bad as the one in The Guardian last week about the guy who won’t get his picture taken for his license because he believes that digital photo databases are the work of Satan.
God bless those BoSox. Now if we can forget the goats and Bill Buckner and keep that damn Steve Bartmann out of Fenway Park, they should be alright. The idiots of the week? A-Rod for whacking a baseball out of Bronson Arroyo’s glove and Houston GM Phil Garner for benching Roger Clemens in Game 6 of the NLCS.
So finally, after the deaths of over 15,000 Iraqis and the tearing apart of their country by the American-led “coalition” in search of non-existent weapons of mass-destruction, Saddam Hussein is finally set to stand trial. I don’t understand this. It doesn’t make sense that civilian homes continue to be indiscriminately bombed, killing thousands of people just going about their daily business and then Saddam gets a fair trial. It has always been my policy that if you’re gonna drag your country into a foreign war killing thousands of civilians and losing eleven hundred of your own troops in the process, when you finally do find the dictator that you tore apart the country trying to get to, that you may as well pick up whatever Styrofoam brick he may be hiding under, drop a grenade in, and badda boom badda bing, game over. But of course, don’t blame any of this on old Dubya. This week he was quoted as saying in a meeting before the war began “Oh, no, we’re not going to have any casualties.”
In Hussein’s trial, they can’t really charge him with possession of WMDs, for obvious reasons, but he will be charged with the gassing of ethnic Kurds and for the invasion of Kuwait. Using illegal weapons and invading countries for their oil resources? Wow. That doesn’t sound familiar at all.
Well everyone in Canada had a collective conniption fit last week when they found out that Don Cherry had made it onto CBC’s final top ten list on The Greatest Canadian, to which he responded “I love it when we get those left-wingers going.” Smooth Don, smooth. In fact the entire top 100 was an odd mix. Numbers 1 through 17 were all white men and only six women made it into the top 50. The white male parade was ended at number 18, not by a Canadian woman who has made relevant difference in the world like Louise Arbour (#97) or Emily Murphy (#74), but rather, by Shania Twain. There was not even a hint of any ethnicity until Tecumseh, a native-Canadian who helped repel American attacks in 1812, weighed in at # 37. This, however, is not an example of the media blatantly ignoring ethnic groups or women; this list wasn’t even made up by the CBC. The candidates were nominated and voted on BY CANADIANS. So everyone that was freaking out were really just a bunch of hypocrites. This vote is perhaps little more than a sad narrative to our own opinions and lack of knowledge as to what a “great Canadian” is. I have no idea how Pamela Anderson trumps Glenn Gould or Roberta Bondar nor how Nellie McClung, the woman who fought for woman’s rights and the franchise to vote, was bested by Stompin’ Tom Connors. I don’t even know how Brian Mulroney, Bret Hart or William Shatner made it to the list at all. On a brighter note, Mr. Dressup did make it to the list in 36th spot, well ahead of former Prime Ministers Sir Wilfred Laurier, Jean Chrétien and John Diefenbaker.
I think residents of the new Brown’s Court apartments may wish to re-consider their habit of crossing University Avenue wherever the hell they feel like it. I mean sure, pedestrians have the right of way in most situations, but when I am in a 1000 pound vehicle that’s doing about 80, the laws of physics kind of specify that the car has a fairly good advantage, especially when drivers cannot see students sprinting between vehicles. Is it really that difficult to get up 45 seconds earlier in the morning so that you have time to walk to the crosswalk at the lights? That crosswalk, by the way, was put in place a few years back after a student was hit by a car and killed. Do we have to wait until that happens again before we stop being dumb asses?
According to several media outlets, the days of the US Ambassador to Canada, Paul Celucci, are numbered. Celucci has become an out-spoken diplomat in Ottawa, criticizing Canada for not going to war in Iraq, complaining about Canada’s lack of help after September 11th, disapproving Canadian review of policy on marijuana laws and deriding indecision about the proposed missile defence program. Let me be the first to say: Get out of my face Paul. He apparently didn’t get the memo that ambassadors are supposed to be diplomats, not liaisons with political agendas; not many people really gave a damn with what he has to say about stuff that he doesn’t understand anyway. Celucci, a former governor, will likely run for the Senate after leaving the US Embassy in Ottawa. Good luck and good riddance Paul. They deserve you.
Myron’s has declared Wednesday night Holland College Night. Say what? I mean I wouldn’t be caught dead down at Moron’s on a Wednesday anyway, but why a Holland College night? So what if they don’t have their own bar? Neither do those poor students at the Academy of Learning and Compu College. Where the hell are they supposed to drink? Out on the street? Those jerks. Well they can keep their damn Discrimination Wednesdays to themselves, I’ll keep my trivia with Matt and Lenny thanks.
Finally, our sports editor landed in some hot water and became the target of the ire of the entire UPEI Field Hockey team after writing an article that they perceived as portraying their sport in a negative light. As an employee of The Cadre, I feel it is my duty to stand up in his time of need and say: “You’re on your own man.” I have my own controversies to deal with, and pissing off a bunch of girls with big sticks is not my idea of a good time. Now I hear they want you to come out to a practice to see what you’re made of. Lucky you. Shave your legs and strap on those cleats man. You better wear a cup too.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#13)
Well the journalistic geniuses at Magic 93 have done it again, using the cunning news reporting technique of ignoring whatever the hell it is that’s going on in the world, and pretending that Jumbo Movie Trivia and Paul Alan’s social life are the most important things on earth. This past Thursday, when every other self-respecting media organization was reporting the crash of a cargo plane in Halifax and the deaths of seven crewmembers, Paul was telling some incredibly amusing anecdote about his life, a life that is perpetually fascinating, being as it is that of a radio broadcaster. The crash issue was ignored completely, and the only time I heard anyone mention anything about an airplane was when Paul, again recounting moments from his über-exciting life, talked about how he had watched Lost on TV the night before. But who am I to judge? How can I expect Magic 93 to report every single little story? This is the same radio station that on September 11th disregarded the small little detail that terrorists were flying passenger jets into random buildings. To their credit however, they did report that: “Um…apparently flights are delayed or something…for some reason…Back to our incessant replaying of N*SYNC and Britney Spears right after this.”
Your prayers have been answered. Yes, sources tell me that now available for sale are, yes, you guessed it, PEI Rocket Thongs. Wicked. Now, does no one else see a problem with this? Perhaps something to do with ethics or morals or something? Now we all know that there are several people who follow the Rocket around to all their games and, dare I say, idolize the guys that play for them, and I mean, who wouldn’t, you know, with their to-die-for pick-up lines. (“Hey, you wanna be famous?) But I certainly don’t think that the marketing team of our friendly local sports team should be playing into this. Personally, correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time I checked, the objectification of women, specifically those under the age of 16, was not a commonly accepted business practice. But hey, those Rockets are good boys, I hear they’re always very well behaved and humble and are never confrontational, even when they’re drinking. (Not that I’m suggesting that they drink or anything) Nooooo. (Insert thick sarcasm here)
Just a random thought: does anyone know why the hell there is a meat market on University Avenue called the Queen Street Meat Market? That does not make any damn sense.
The CDP was torn down this week. In a few months a so-called “racino” will rise from the rubble of the historic building, creating a new place for Grandpa to go bet on the ponies and now, through the innovation of our wonderful government, will also have the option of gambling away his pension cheques on VLT machines. Now I’m not sure how many people, but it was Binns’ government that initially placed restrictions on how many VLTs could be in operation on the island, but I guess now they have reason to believe that VLTs provide great benefit to the community and the social fabric of PEI as well as contributing to the vibrant horseracing industry. Yeah? Bullshit. Either that or dreams of dollar signs danced in their heads. I hate to break it to the people involved, but horseracing is not struggling because we don’t have fancy racinos or VLTs or multi-million-dollar purses, it’s struggling because no one gives a rat’s ass about horseracing, save, of course, for four or five old men and the people that go to the Gold Cup and Saucer Race every year. All the VLTs in the world won’t change that.
Last year, the provincial government decided to give a million dollars to the horseracing industry to increase purse sizes and to spark interest. What did that do? Not a damn thing. (At the same time, government announced that it was cutting $750,000 in funding that had been promised to UPEI, due to “budgetary constraints.”) Now they want to increase the number of VLTs to increase revenue, a move made on the whim of racing industry lobbyists and the Atlantic Lottery Corporation. This is an irrational decision that will indisputably lead to an augmentation of the number of problem gamblers on the island. These same problems contribute to many social problems; broken families, chronic debt, increases in crime, and in comparison to other jurisdictions, numbers suggest that this problem alone will directly cause two suicides a year on PEI. Now does that sound like a government with its priorities in order? Money and gambling ahead of education and societal well being? I mean I’m sure we would all like our roads paved now and then, but when it comes to public policy, the ends do not always justify the means, especially when the means include cheapened morals, rising crime rates and death. I don’t know, again maybe it’s just me, but when a private corporation tells my government to jump, I’d rather hear them say “Piss off” than ask “How high?”
Reality TV pisses me off. Number one, it is not reality. Reality is me sitting here on my ass writing papers and studying and getting 3 hours of sleep. Flying around the world for free and eating bull testicles and cleaning other people’s houses is not. And trading wives? Yeah, we already invented that. It’s called BIGAMY. Don’t even get me started on The Apprentice. If “the Donald” wants to wear his hair à la rabid baboon, that’s fine by me. Go right ahead, hire people, fire people, I don’t care. But why on national television? And who watches this? I’m sorry, but is there not something possibly more meaningful that we could be doing with our lives? I’m sick of Jeff Probst and William Hung and Vanilla Ice and Sass Jordan and Mark Cuban and Joe Rogan and Swans and Idols and Bachelors and all those friggin idiots. Here’s a reality show for you, it’s called a reality check, and instead of spending millions being idiots and eating bugs and jumping off buildings and shit, you give the money to charities. Maybe do a show called Survivor: Hurricane Jeanne in Haiti, or Food Factor in Ethiopia or Who Wants to Win an AIDs Vaccine? in Zimbabwe. Seriously, can our society be that self involved that we’d rather watch Simon crush the dreams of some tone-deaf high-schooler than see people live to see tomorrow? Apparently so.
Finally, on par with D-Day and Christmas, this week marks the 128th anniversary of the first shipment of 857 bushels of wheat from Manitoba to eastern Canada. God bless those western Canadian jerks.
Have a good one!
Your prayers have been answered. Yes, sources tell me that now available for sale are, yes, you guessed it, PEI Rocket Thongs. Wicked. Now, does no one else see a problem with this? Perhaps something to do with ethics or morals or something? Now we all know that there are several people who follow the Rocket around to all their games and, dare I say, idolize the guys that play for them, and I mean, who wouldn’t, you know, with their to-die-for pick-up lines. (“Hey, you wanna be famous?) But I certainly don’t think that the marketing team of our friendly local sports team should be playing into this. Personally, correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time I checked, the objectification of women, specifically those under the age of 16, was not a commonly accepted business practice. But hey, those Rockets are good boys, I hear they’re always very well behaved and humble and are never confrontational, even when they’re drinking. (Not that I’m suggesting that they drink or anything) Nooooo. (Insert thick sarcasm here)
Just a random thought: does anyone know why the hell there is a meat market on University Avenue called the Queen Street Meat Market? That does not make any damn sense.
The CDP was torn down this week. In a few months a so-called “racino” will rise from the rubble of the historic building, creating a new place for Grandpa to go bet on the ponies and now, through the innovation of our wonderful government, will also have the option of gambling away his pension cheques on VLT machines. Now I’m not sure how many people, but it was Binns’ government that initially placed restrictions on how many VLTs could be in operation on the island, but I guess now they have reason to believe that VLTs provide great benefit to the community and the social fabric of PEI as well as contributing to the vibrant horseracing industry. Yeah? Bullshit. Either that or dreams of dollar signs danced in their heads. I hate to break it to the people involved, but horseracing is not struggling because we don’t have fancy racinos or VLTs or multi-million-dollar purses, it’s struggling because no one gives a rat’s ass about horseracing, save, of course, for four or five old men and the people that go to the Gold Cup and Saucer Race every year. All the VLTs in the world won’t change that.
Last year, the provincial government decided to give a million dollars to the horseracing industry to increase purse sizes and to spark interest. What did that do? Not a damn thing. (At the same time, government announced that it was cutting $750,000 in funding that had been promised to UPEI, due to “budgetary constraints.”) Now they want to increase the number of VLTs to increase revenue, a move made on the whim of racing industry lobbyists and the Atlantic Lottery Corporation. This is an irrational decision that will indisputably lead to an augmentation of the number of problem gamblers on the island. These same problems contribute to many social problems; broken families, chronic debt, increases in crime, and in comparison to other jurisdictions, numbers suggest that this problem alone will directly cause two suicides a year on PEI. Now does that sound like a government with its priorities in order? Money and gambling ahead of education and societal well being? I mean I’m sure we would all like our roads paved now and then, but when it comes to public policy, the ends do not always justify the means, especially when the means include cheapened morals, rising crime rates and death. I don’t know, again maybe it’s just me, but when a private corporation tells my government to jump, I’d rather hear them say “Piss off” than ask “How high?”
Reality TV pisses me off. Number one, it is not reality. Reality is me sitting here on my ass writing papers and studying and getting 3 hours of sleep. Flying around the world for free and eating bull testicles and cleaning other people’s houses is not. And trading wives? Yeah, we already invented that. It’s called BIGAMY. Don’t even get me started on The Apprentice. If “the Donald” wants to wear his hair à la rabid baboon, that’s fine by me. Go right ahead, hire people, fire people, I don’t care. But why on national television? And who watches this? I’m sorry, but is there not something possibly more meaningful that we could be doing with our lives? I’m sick of Jeff Probst and William Hung and Vanilla Ice and Sass Jordan and Mark Cuban and Joe Rogan and Swans and Idols and Bachelors and all those friggin idiots. Here’s a reality show for you, it’s called a reality check, and instead of spending millions being idiots and eating bugs and jumping off buildings and shit, you give the money to charities. Maybe do a show called Survivor: Hurricane Jeanne in Haiti, or Food Factor in Ethiopia or Who Wants to Win an AIDs Vaccine? in Zimbabwe. Seriously, can our society be that self involved that we’d rather watch Simon crush the dreams of some tone-deaf high-schooler than see people live to see tomorrow? Apparently so.
Finally, on par with D-Day and Christmas, this week marks the 128th anniversary of the first shipment of 857 bushels of wheat from Manitoba to eastern Canada. God bless those western Canadian jerks.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#12)
It was this week in 1977 that the Amazing Psychic Romark, through a public display of his incredible psychic power, attempted to drive a car blindfolded and would have been completely successful, had he not smashed into a parked police van. Idiot.
The Guardian reported this week that the Summerside man who barricaded himself in his house last August in an armed standoff with police was finally sentenced last week. For those of you who are from away or who don’t watch Live at 5, Summerside police went to the man’s house, whose name is, I am not making this up, Robert McRoberts, to speak with him regarding his failure to pay child support. The 51-year-old man came out onto his patio and told the deputy chief of police that he wasn’t coming out unless he came out “boots first.” I guess “boots first” is a bad thing, as that comment kicked off a 39-hour armed standoff and resulted in the evacuation of the entire residential area. So, basically, police went to McRoberts’ house to get him out of his house, and when said he didn’t want to come out of his house, they waited around his house with guns until they could force him out of his house. I guess McRoberts has the last laugh on this one however. His punishment for telling police he didn’t want to come out of his house? Nine months of house arrest. Chalk up another one for the fine individuals of the Summerside PD.
Well the Canadian Navy showed off our submarines’ incredible stealth and superior technology to the international community last week by… stranding one out off the coast of Ireland without power for a few days. Now I know what you’re thinking: “We have submarines?” Yes, astonishingly enough, we do. But only four. Plus they’re 24-year-old diesel subs, and are “technically” not “operational”; so don’t freak out too much. Now you’re thinking: “Hey, the Canadian Navy must be smart, spending what little money it does have on old subs that haven’t been used in decades.” I agree. Thumbs up to the Canadian Forces. Helicopters that don’t go up, submarines that don’t go down, and now thanks to those good old Brits, new and improved subs that also spontaneously burst into flame and kill the people that work on them. So Osama? Saddam? Who cares? Between being killed by our own equipment and our allies dropping bombs on us, who needs enemies?
Evidently the accuracy of my articles needs improvement. I was told in a letter fired off by a student last week that some of the points in my last article were incorrect. Well, let me the first to say: shut up. No no, just kidding, don’t get out the pitchforks just yet. Let me first defend myself by saying that most of my research consists of making things up. So the journalistic integrity of my articles amount to somewhere around jack, and as such, you can trust the info in them about as much as you can trust a George W. Bush speech or your average Fox News broadcast. May I remind you that this is the same reporter that spent an entire afternoon exploring thirty-odd bathrooms on campus so I could critique them, and who once advocated that we sell Quebec to the United States.
Having said that, I also have a problem with some stuff getting printed up in The Cadre. In the last issue, one of my counterparts, who I will not identify, other than to say that he’s a reporter and his name is Jon Smith (AKA “Hey! Isn’t that the name of the guy from ‘Pocahontas’?”) wrote an article criticizing UPEI and the city of Charlottetown. Who the hell does this guy think he is? I mean, sure, I’ve done my fair share of criticizing, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here and let some yahoo tell me that my UPEI is not ‘a GREAT small university’. Jerk. Anyone who knows anything knows that this is the best university in the Western hemisphere, and with the exception of Bluefield, is quite possibly the best school in the world. I rue the day that I have to trade the hallowed halls of the W.A. Murphy Student Centre for the corridors of some cold, impersonal graduate school and my professors and classmates who know me, for a bunch of uppity mainlanders. (Kidding. Put the pitchforks down. Or whatever it is that you mainlanders use for angry mobs.) I’ve been here three friggin’ years, and as I’m sure many of you can say, I’ve walked this campus on a -50° day. I’ve spent 15 hours straight in Kelley computer lab during the term paper rush, I’ve slept in Society Lounges, gone on my share of Pub Crawls and I live for Fajita Day. Hell, I’ve even ventured into the Music Building once or twice. Being a UPEI student, I think it’s awesome that the biggest problem we can find to complain about on a consistent basis is parking (or lack thereof) and those security jerks. I think it’s awesome that Cathy and Terri in the cafeteria know how I like my breakfast and that a good number of Accounting/Student Services/Library staff know pretty much every student by name. Now if that is not “a GREAT small university”, than I don’t know what the hell is. SMU or X or Dal or anyone else can shove it.
Now as far as his comments go about Charlottetown, I’m inclined to partially agree. But where else in the world do people still go nuts for Hootie and the Blowfish? And where else do old people have nothing better to talk about than whether or not Boomer is still wearing his shorts? Whether counted to its’ credit or to its’ faults, the most exciting thing to happen in Charlottetown, other than ‘Juan’ or ‘White Juan’ or whatever, was when some guy who called himself Loki 7 tried to blow up the Legislature, and even he failed miserably. (Coincidentally, Loki himself used to teach math at Bluefield.)
I guess this city hasn’t really been the same since they cancelled Compass and bulldozed “the house that Christmas threw up on” to build that new Shopper’s, but hey, we’ve still have Civic Nation in the BK parking lot, and who can resist the repulsive charm of a crowded night at Myron’s? Who doesn’t adore listening to Paul Alan and Anne MacCrae every morning on Magic 93? No wait. I hate them.
So what if our mass-transit system consists of a single bus? Or that there are only two or three possible answers to “what are you doing tonight”? And so what if the most famous people around here either play hockey, used to star on Soup to Nuts or have tried to blow up major buildings? Charlottetown, for now, is our city. Anyone who has taken over the downtown core on a Pub Crawl or has made their way down Kent Street 2:30 on a Sunday morning knows this. And, well, a couple years down the road we’ll all be off to the bigger and better, in some big city, foreign country or Tignish, so we might as well quit the complaining and party it up at Brown’s and cruise the Ave. while we can.
Take that Jon.
Happy Thanksgiving.
The Guardian reported this week that the Summerside man who barricaded himself in his house last August in an armed standoff with police was finally sentenced last week. For those of you who are from away or who don’t watch Live at 5, Summerside police went to the man’s house, whose name is, I am not making this up, Robert McRoberts, to speak with him regarding his failure to pay child support. The 51-year-old man came out onto his patio and told the deputy chief of police that he wasn’t coming out unless he came out “boots first.” I guess “boots first” is a bad thing, as that comment kicked off a 39-hour armed standoff and resulted in the evacuation of the entire residential area. So, basically, police went to McRoberts’ house to get him out of his house, and when said he didn’t want to come out of his house, they waited around his house with guns until they could force him out of his house. I guess McRoberts has the last laugh on this one however. His punishment for telling police he didn’t want to come out of his house? Nine months of house arrest. Chalk up another one for the fine individuals of the Summerside PD.
Well the Canadian Navy showed off our submarines’ incredible stealth and superior technology to the international community last week by… stranding one out off the coast of Ireland without power for a few days. Now I know what you’re thinking: “We have submarines?” Yes, astonishingly enough, we do. But only four. Plus they’re 24-year-old diesel subs, and are “technically” not “operational”; so don’t freak out too much. Now you’re thinking: “Hey, the Canadian Navy must be smart, spending what little money it does have on old subs that haven’t been used in decades.” I agree. Thumbs up to the Canadian Forces. Helicopters that don’t go up, submarines that don’t go down, and now thanks to those good old Brits, new and improved subs that also spontaneously burst into flame and kill the people that work on them. So Osama? Saddam? Who cares? Between being killed by our own equipment and our allies dropping bombs on us, who needs enemies?
Evidently the accuracy of my articles needs improvement. I was told in a letter fired off by a student last week that some of the points in my last article were incorrect. Well, let me the first to say: shut up. No no, just kidding, don’t get out the pitchforks just yet. Let me first defend myself by saying that most of my research consists of making things up. So the journalistic integrity of my articles amount to somewhere around jack, and as such, you can trust the info in them about as much as you can trust a George W. Bush speech or your average Fox News broadcast. May I remind you that this is the same reporter that spent an entire afternoon exploring thirty-odd bathrooms on campus so I could critique them, and who once advocated that we sell Quebec to the United States.
Having said that, I also have a problem with some stuff getting printed up in The Cadre. In the last issue, one of my counterparts, who I will not identify, other than to say that he’s a reporter and his name is Jon Smith (AKA “Hey! Isn’t that the name of the guy from ‘Pocahontas’?”) wrote an article criticizing UPEI and the city of Charlottetown. Who the hell does this guy think he is? I mean, sure, I’ve done my fair share of criticizing, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here and let some yahoo tell me that my UPEI is not ‘a GREAT small university’. Jerk. Anyone who knows anything knows that this is the best university in the Western hemisphere, and with the exception of Bluefield, is quite possibly the best school in the world. I rue the day that I have to trade the hallowed halls of the W.A. Murphy Student Centre for the corridors of some cold, impersonal graduate school and my professors and classmates who know me, for a bunch of uppity mainlanders. (Kidding. Put the pitchforks down. Or whatever it is that you mainlanders use for angry mobs.) I’ve been here three friggin’ years, and as I’m sure many of you can say, I’ve walked this campus on a -50° day. I’ve spent 15 hours straight in Kelley computer lab during the term paper rush, I’ve slept in Society Lounges, gone on my share of Pub Crawls and I live for Fajita Day. Hell, I’ve even ventured into the Music Building once or twice. Being a UPEI student, I think it’s awesome that the biggest problem we can find to complain about on a consistent basis is parking (or lack thereof) and those security jerks. I think it’s awesome that Cathy and Terri in the cafeteria know how I like my breakfast and that a good number of Accounting/Student Services/Library staff know pretty much every student by name. Now if that is not “a GREAT small university”, than I don’t know what the hell is. SMU or X or Dal or anyone else can shove it.
Now as far as his comments go about Charlottetown, I’m inclined to partially agree. But where else in the world do people still go nuts for Hootie and the Blowfish? And where else do old people have nothing better to talk about than whether or not Boomer is still wearing his shorts? Whether counted to its’ credit or to its’ faults, the most exciting thing to happen in Charlottetown, other than ‘Juan’ or ‘White Juan’ or whatever, was when some guy who called himself Loki 7 tried to blow up the Legislature, and even he failed miserably. (Coincidentally, Loki himself used to teach math at Bluefield.)
I guess this city hasn’t really been the same since they cancelled Compass and bulldozed “the house that Christmas threw up on” to build that new Shopper’s, but hey, we’ve still have Civic Nation in the BK parking lot, and who can resist the repulsive charm of a crowded night at Myron’s? Who doesn’t adore listening to Paul Alan and Anne MacCrae every morning on Magic 93? No wait. I hate them.
So what if our mass-transit system consists of a single bus? Or that there are only two or three possible answers to “what are you doing tonight”? And so what if the most famous people around here either play hockey, used to star on Soup to Nuts or have tried to blow up major buildings? Charlottetown, for now, is our city. Anyone who has taken over the downtown core on a Pub Crawl or has made their way down Kent Street 2:30 on a Sunday morning knows this. And, well, a couple years down the road we’ll all be off to the bigger and better, in some big city, foreign country or Tignish, so we might as well quit the complaining and party it up at Brown’s and cruise the Ave. while we can.
Take that Jon.
Happy Thanksgiving.
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