Tag Archives: human

Recipe for invisible shackles.

Recipe for invisible shackles.

A very simple yet effective recipe to create invisible shackles for a large population of people without them even realizing they’ve been shackled.

1. Tax the people on the money they make to their breaking point, making them work more leaving them exhausted and easier prey.

2. Charge them interest on the loans they need for vehicles and houses in order to work a job and pay the taxes that prevent them from having large savings creating a dependency on the banks.

3. Incorporate another way to gauge money disguised as a mortgage “insurance” thats paid by the people to protect the bank, which “allows” people (for a sizeable fee of course.) with less then 20% down on a house to purchase (for a fee+interest of course.) a home to live in to continue to work their jobs and pay their taxes, which ironically probably prevented them from saving 20% of the purchase price of a home in an already extremely overvalued/overpriced housing market in the first place.

4. Then pass out credit cards at 20% interest rates, while the media flashes images of happy faces using revolutionary, life-altering, must-have products to people that are already heavily in debt, depressed and seeking any form of happiness they can get.

5. When the people are depressed, angry and frustrated blame the poor and foreigners for taking all the tax money.

Set me free.

Set me free.

Take me away,
Where my heart is free to roam,
Free from the upkeep and constraints of a home,
Take me away,
Far from western societies cultural views,
Where philosophical views are deeper then competitive materialism and buying everything in “twos”,
Take me away,
To the outskirts of Panama City,
Where I can teach my children more then misguided pop star envy,
Take me away,
Where I can flee this prefabricated fate that is consuming me,
I don’t need the American dream to live happily,
Take me away,
Where credit cards and mortgages aren’t priority,
Where political monopolies aren’t an everyday causality,
Take me away,
Where my time is not harvested and spoon fed to a capitalist,
Where My most precious commodity is not continually drained in exchange to mindlessly exist,
Take me away,
Far away from this mind numbing race,
If there is such a place,
Take me away.

My oil field man.

My oil field man.

It’s a way of life in Newfoundland,
Deer lake airport has become his second home throughout the years,
My selfless husband devotes his time, sweat, blood and tears,
Ultimately sacrificing his life to a seismic crew and the Oilsands of the Mainland,

He works holidays, birthdays, Christmas day, fathers day and more,
He works everyday, from sun up to sun down,
Spending months in a work camp without seeing a town,
Spending months working, until his body is tired, worn and sore,

He has endured tornadoes in the blistering desert heats of Oman,
Endured the extreme colds of Alberta and Alaska which left frostbite on his fingers and arms,
His days tattoo his skin and his heart with scars,
Yet, my oil field man stands strong and treks on,

He has climbed sand dunes and rugged terrains,
While praying vipers, scorpions, wolves, cougars and bears, wouldn’t see him there,
Throughout it all never thinking life is unfair,
Throughout it all my oil field man never complains,

Because, although he has given the oilfield his time and most of his life,
Although seismic has borrowed his body and mind,
Every time he leaves, his heart is left behind,
Every time he leaves his remaining part is kept safely until his return, by his children and his wife.

My medical mystery.

My medical mystery.

I’ve concluded lately that I must be suffering from a physical or mental ailment. I have been having peculiar, unexplained symptoms. They include, hallucinations, an inability to properly string together sentences coherently, and I have been hearing voices!

I noticed the first symptom one day when I asked my children if their rooms were clean. To which they unanimously, with an eye roll each, and a quick snicker to one another, replied,

“YES, of course, mom!” .

Something about the way they snickered led me to believe they may not be practising honesty. I decided to go investigate for myself and low and behold my eyes conjured up an unholy mess that according to my children, “wasn’t even there.” I sighed and in an attempt to gain sympathy from my husband I exclaimed,

“Would you look at this mess!”

My husband at the time, was playing clash of titans on his phone and in the middle of an intense war or maybe planting crops (I can never figure out which one.) The game obviously needed his complete and undivided attention. He seemed annoyed by my question. I remember thinking at the time that he might have been planting imaginary vegetable crops to feed his very real family, because he had been using all our very real money to buy his imaginary beloved bags of gems. I can only assume he has the uncanny ability to see through the top of his head, and being enthralled with his game (planting crops or fighting kings) he used this extraordinary ability, because without even looking up, he quickly replied,

“I don’t see a mess.”

At this point I was feeling rather defeated but I decided to give it one more try. I proceeded to ask my children,

“Why are your rooms a mess, after I explicitly asked you to clean them?”

They shrugged their shoulders, looked at one another grinning conspicuously and said,

“They aren’t.”

That’s when I came to the conclusion I must be suffering from hallucinations.

I noticed my inability to string together coherent sentences after days, weeks and months of my children and my husband not seeming to understand what I was saying to them. I would say to my children,

“Go brush your teeth.”

and in my incoherent babbling they would hear,

“Go play xbox.”


“Go flick your toothbrush with water, place it in your mouth for three seconds, pretend you brushed your teeth, and then when I tell you to brush them again, whine and stomp your feet!”

My suspicions were even further confirmed when my husband began to misconstrue what I was saying to him. I would ask,

“Can you please take out the garbage?”

I would ask him this, the night before garbage day in an attempt to avoid him in the morning, inevitably running outside in his boxers for all the neighbours to see! Nonetheless my incoherent babbling got the better of me and had him hearing,

“Please ignore me, don’t take out the garbage tonight, wait until you hear the garbage truck coming down the road, Leap out of bed, spew random profanities, mutter that I should have told you garbage day was coming and proceed to take the garbage outside in your boxers!”

As you can see, I’m suffering from some very serious symptoms, and those aren’t even the most alarming. I have been hearing voices as well! Last week I thought I heard my children downstairs fighting and I “thought” they were calling each other names. To my surprise when I questioned them no one had any idea what I was talking about! There was also an incident with my husband. I was complaining about the children as I usually do and I distinctly heard him mutter,

“For the love of god, would you shut up already!”

I glared at him intensely, with my hands on my hips, ready to let off the fully loaded cockpit of arguments that I had been waiting to unleash on him for months, as I sternly demanded,

“Why would you say something like that to me?”

He looked puzzled for a second, as if I had heard something I wasn’t supposed to hear, after a few seconds the seemingly distressed look on his face had disappeared and he simply replied,

“What’s that darling? I didn’t say anything!”

I am becoming so worried about all these bizarre symptoms, a trip to doctor will soon be in order. If not, I may start to hallucinate that I am on a secluded island, sipping daiquiris, watching nearby dolphins playing angelically. Running sand between my toes, while the warm sun beams on my face and I fan myself with a paper that appears to read “divorce agreement,” or I may just start to hallucinate that my children are sobbing uncontrollably, clinging to the suitcases that they hold in each hand, behind domineering black iron gates, simultaneously crying,

“Please, don’t send us to military school!”

The morning time trap.

The morning time trap.

Why do mornings seem to defy the logics of time? In the morning it seems like all things tangible and intangible are set to “slow motion” even the kettle takes longer to boil. I have a bit of a control issue, so I like to think that I can do things or not do things to take control of a situation. So I try and be as prepared as I can be for the morning routine with the kids. I pour their cereal into their bowls with a paper towel over the top, and cut up some fruit the night before. I place their clothes in their rooms, and place mine in the washroom. Maya’s hair buckles and earrings are placed by her place-mat, and the kids lunch bags are in the fridge ready to go. I even put sugar and coffee in my mug and place it by the kettle. I do all this because if done at 6:30PM it takes three minutes whereas, if done at 6:30AM it takes twenty-three minutes, and opens the floodgates to the lurking reservoir of chaos, that will strategically place dominos throughout my day, destined to topple one at a time quickly gaining momentum, and precedence as each chaotic episode fuels the next. Which, will undoubtedly start with me leaving the house with my shirt on inside out, and backwards, the two year old will still be in pyjamas, the older children will forget their lunches, the dog will miss her morning walk and I won’t have time to drink my coffee (you don’t want to know what’s lurking in the “mommy had no coffee” reservoir.) So being prepared is my only defence against the impending chaos that looms around the corner which results from this slow motion time lapse we experience each morning.

I don’t know if everyone’s mornings share this strange phenomena. Maybe it’s just my house that is seemingly afflicted with a riff in the time continuum that only takes place in the early morning hours. For today though, the riff has been eluded, the metaphorical floodgates have been shut, and the chaos has been kept away. Which in turn allowed us to take a non-metaphorical walk chaos-free down by real flood gates, while taking advantage of this captivating November day!

I saw a unicorn.

I saw a unicorn.

Today I had a beautiful moment, one of those shooting star kind of moments on the roller coaster of parental emotions. It only comes around once In awhile, you don’t know when it’s coming back, but when you experience it, it makes everything worth while. It’s the holy grail kind of moment that your mind will take you back to, when your kid drew on the couch, cut their own hair, clogged the toilet AGAIN! Hit their sister and took a tantrum in the store, when the whining, the tantrums and the fighting seem all too much to bare, your mind will take you there, to that one time, that shooting star moment, the moment your child filled your heart with goosebumps and brought tears to your eyes, the moment you overflowed with pride, and you couldn’t contain your tears, even though everyone was there and it was just a soccer match, or swimming lesson, the first day of school, or just another day at home. This little gem could pop up any day, anywhere, and it will keep you going, it’s that kind of moment In its exquisite glory, that I witnessed this morning!

As I began my morning routine at 6am, I went downstairs to shower, to get to the washroom I pass the two older children’s rooms on the way. I usually look in on them to make sure they are still asleep. This morning I looked in Matthew’s room and instead of one curly haired head of orange peeking out from the covers there were two! I had to take a second look, I thought my tired eyes may have been deceiving me. I went in the room to investigate. As I stood next to Matthew’s bed in awe of the strange phenomena that blessed my eyes, Matthew awoke “oh hi, mom, Maya had a bad dream, I think about dinosaurs or something, I heard her crying so I told her to come in my bed” and with that my heart exploded a million tiny electric surges, that filled my entire body with what I can only describe as the fuel that keeps me going day to day. These shooting stars in the realm of complex parental emotion will keep you coming back for more like a drug, but unlike a drug the only side effect is euphoria and love.

I spend most my days deep within this realm reminiscing about the unicorns that graciously, looked my way. Whether or not this phenomena is natures way of providing the brain the nourishment it needs to sustain itself and endure the extreme up and downs of parental emotion, it is a dazzling place to be. So I will trek on in this parenting endeavour knowing that I have plenty of fuel to drive me.

Why I will never hate Muslims.

Why I will never hate Muslims.

In light of the recent events in Canada I’ve been consumed with a fear, but not a fear the majority holds, I’m not scared of all that is Islam. I’m consumed with a fear of the reactions or overreactions of the majority, I’m consumed with a fear that comes from the realization that people, the vast majority of people are puppets the vast majority have let the media and government build tiny houses of hatred in their hearts, and as each wall goes up and new tools of propaganda are used, a new puppet is born.

I’m deeply saddened by how quickly hatred can be built In hearts that otherwise were so pure, hearts of Canadians, humanitarians, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives and husbands, people who love their families and love their country. I watch the hatred the racism, the ignorance and the fear building, the fire growing, the houses of anger built in all of your hearts getting bigger and bigger, fear is the strongest tool they have and they are using it to their full advantage. I watch in disbelief as my friends, my family are taken over by this immense hatred, until I can’t take it anymore I want to scream “WE ARE HUMAN!” Can we not recognize that anymore?

These are extremists using The Qur’an and killing in its name, these are radicals home grown radicals and Muslim radicals alike. There have always been extremists using religion to further their own agenda. The tragic endings that were bestowed upon our Canadian soldiers were just that tragedies, executed by mentally unwell men who saw an opportunity to act on their dark desires in a way they felt was justified in the Qur’an. Despite the tragic circumstances I hope we as humans can rise above hatred and racism and see the bigger picture. I hope before accepting hate before accepting racism you take a good hard look at why your overflowing with intolerance, look at who ignited it and why this spark was ignited in you. Educate yourself before condemning an entire culture an entire race, don’t just hate Muslims because the media and the government told you to hate Muslims. Fill your hearts with understanding and compassion and your brains with knowledge don’t leave room for the propaganda and fear.

The true north “strong and free” is what we are, is what we truly want to be, but how can we be strong and free when our minds and hearts are controlled to feel and think how the media wants us to feel and think. Don’t accept what the media tells you to think, don’t just blindly accept the small bombs that have been planted in your hearts and your brains, that explode whenever the media feels like flipping the fear switch. We are Canadians and to me that means I am a gentle, good, accepting person who cannot be swayed by fear, and I will continue to be that person, because I would rather be that person then someone filled with hate and fear, I will continue to tear down the walls they try to build in my heart with reason and education. I will continue to defuse the bombs before the media changes everything that I am. I will not let fear guide me and I will not let uneducated opinions spread through my veins like wildfires.

I’m sure many people will be angry at me for not being angry, but I’m not and I never will hold any angst for Muslims. I am however angry that we are being used as puppets to further justify the war in Iraq, to further justify the killing of innocent Muslims, who are being dehumanized and demonized so you can swallow the pill of innocent lives being lost. It sounds eerily similar to the tactics that hitler used, doesn’t it?

Crystal Styles.