When it comes to microbrewed and craft brewed beers, I find that just discovering them is almost as fulfilling as drinking them. In a world where LCBO outlets carry the same general selection no matter whether you're in Markham or Moosonee, the appearance of an unfamiliar bottle on the shelf is something I always find welcome. Up north in Barrie, if you can bring yourself to get off the 400 at any of the five interchanges after Innisfil Beach Road, they sell one I'd never had the chance to try before - Antigravity Light Ale.
As it happens, they sell it in plenty more places, but-- this way, I got to drink it in the city where it's made. That's something, at least. It is in fact brewed by the Robert Simpson Brewing Company on Dunlop Street East in the downtown core of Barrie, Ontario, Canada, Earth, Milky Way, Universe. The label does go to that detail, even if it does not pinpoint the precise galactic sector or supercluster.
Antigravity's advertised on the back label as "the perfect beer for lawn-mowing, hammock-lounging, horseshoe-pitching and star-gazing," and though there may be a few more hyphens than necessary there, I agree. It's smooth, good when cold - there's even a temperature-sensitive icon on the label that turns blue when the bottle's cold - with an easy drinking taste and a vaguely wooden smell to it, like an old country woodshed right after a rainstorm. It's 4% alc./vol. and sold in 355mL bottles which are $2.00 CDN individually.
What's more, they have bottlecap fortunes. The first one I opened exhorted me: "Do not have a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent." Sound advice, that.
I've got another in the fridge right now. Hopefully it will give me fresh advice.
ANDREW'S RATING: 5/5. This stuff is good. Buy it and drink it.
Previous Quaff Reviews
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
PDP #66: Dark Clouds Over Milton
I couldn't have timed it better. The instant the GO train's doors groaned open at the Milton station platform, the sky opened and the rain came roaring down. In the time it took me to get from the platform to the station building, a hundred feet at most, I got well and thoroughly soaked. I took this picture once it settled down to a few drops.
Shortly after I took this picture, a GO Transit employee asked me to stop taking photographs for "security reasons." It's just as well she didn't ask me to delete the photos, because I would've had no choice but to politely refuse. When I checked later I couldn't find any no-photographs policy on the GO Transit website. Has anyone else ever run into this?
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
Shortly after I took this picture, a GO Transit employee asked me to stop taking photographs for "security reasons." It's just as well she didn't ask me to delete the photos, because I would've had no choice but to politely refuse. When I checked later I couldn't find any no-photographs policy on the GO Transit website. Has anyone else ever run into this?
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
The Virtues of a Lonely Planet
Humans, for the most part, are a gregarious bunch. In the beginning we needed it to stay alive. For humans, with intelligence and endurance but limited raw fighting power compared to animals that can take a man's head off with one sweep of a claw or clamp of a jaw, strength and safety came from numbers. An intelligent species that didn't have that drive to build communities, where members could survive and thrive on an individual basis, might never build up enough inertia to lay down civilizations.
Technology has only brought us together more and more steadily. The last ten years, in particular, have seen interconnectedness spread like a restless spider's web. When I graduated from high school eight years ago nobody had a mobile phone, and now they use them to cheat on tests. This interconnectivity is becoming more and more of a social need. The Transhuman Space supplement Broken Dreams had among its offerings an urban legend, popular in 2100, of people dying of shock when they were cut off from data networks.
With the way things are going, I'm surprised that sort of legend, maybe revolving around an inopportunely broken BlackBerry or iPhone, hasn't already gained substantial traction in reality.
On July 4th, Australian time, the Sydney Morning Herald carried an opinion piece by Brigid Delaney entitled "It's a lonely planet out there - get used to it," which held up modern networking tools as "symptoms of the death of our ability to be alone." Ordinary people have never been in a position to share as much information as widely and as frequently as they do today. In the article, Delaney takes umbrage with the increasing abandonment of solitude, and asks if "the 11pm call from the boss [is] better than nothing, silence, being disconnected - and perhaps missing out?"
This is one issue I've been worried about myself. I don't have a mobile phone, nor do I have any particular interest in getting one, which seems to make me a definite freak of nature when compared with the rest of my age group. For now, mobile phones remain in the "accessory" stage, and while they're far more commonplace than they were ten years ago, culture has yet to substantially shift toward the assumption of 24/7 availability for everyone, or at least mostly everyone.
How long do we have before this changes? It's probably sooner rather than later. It might already be here, and I just haven't realized it. What concerns me is that inevitable moment when the system flips from one state to another, when a mobile phone ceases being an optional device you carry to assist you with your life and instead becomes an expectation, and if you don't have one there must be something wrong with you. I read a story like this recently - though I can't, unfortunately, remember the title or author and don't have it close at hand - in a world where "bugseyes," the logical conclusion of smartphone evolution, were universal, and a character who did not wear one fell under police suspicion for no other reason than that he did not wear one.
I'm worried this is where we're heading. That in the crowd's headlong stampede toward connection, away from solitude and toward the endlessly yammering, clamoring din of the world, the pendulum will be pushed too far and get stuck. No matter how much of a social butterfly a person may be, in the end there's always a necessity for a pause, silence, and reflection. Constant communication is constant distraction. It interrupts. It can very easily be like trying to play Jenga during an earthquake.
Perhaps it's because I'm a writer, and I need long stretches of solitude to put my thoughts in order and come to terms with the world, that I tend to think this way. There's a discipline in self-reliance, in putting distractions aside - and if we discard that, what else will become of us, in the end?
Also, the Fourth of July. I know there are at least a few Americans reading this, so here's the flag of the United States and also Ohio's. Now go drink and attend barbecues and watch fireworks. Your media gives me the impression that doing so is your patriotic duty.
roughly luddite ranting concluded; thank you for your patience
Technology has only brought us together more and more steadily. The last ten years, in particular, have seen interconnectedness spread like a restless spider's web. When I graduated from high school eight years ago nobody had a mobile phone, and now they use them to cheat on tests. This interconnectivity is becoming more and more of a social need. The Transhuman Space supplement Broken Dreams had among its offerings an urban legend, popular in 2100, of people dying of shock when they were cut off from data networks.
With the way things are going, I'm surprised that sort of legend, maybe revolving around an inopportunely broken BlackBerry or iPhone, hasn't already gained substantial traction in reality.
On July 4th, Australian time, the Sydney Morning Herald carried an opinion piece by Brigid Delaney entitled "It's a lonely planet out there - get used to it," which held up modern networking tools as "symptoms of the death of our ability to be alone." Ordinary people have never been in a position to share as much information as widely and as frequently as they do today. In the article, Delaney takes umbrage with the increasing abandonment of solitude, and asks if "the 11pm call from the boss [is] better than nothing, silence, being disconnected - and perhaps missing out?"
This is one issue I've been worried about myself. I don't have a mobile phone, nor do I have any particular interest in getting one, which seems to make me a definite freak of nature when compared with the rest of my age group. For now, mobile phones remain in the "accessory" stage, and while they're far more commonplace than they were ten years ago, culture has yet to substantially shift toward the assumption of 24/7 availability for everyone, or at least mostly everyone.
How long do we have before this changes? It's probably sooner rather than later. It might already be here, and I just haven't realized it. What concerns me is that inevitable moment when the system flips from one state to another, when a mobile phone ceases being an optional device you carry to assist you with your life and instead becomes an expectation, and if you don't have one there must be something wrong with you. I read a story like this recently - though I can't, unfortunately, remember the title or author and don't have it close at hand - in a world where "bugseyes," the logical conclusion of smartphone evolution, were universal, and a character who did not wear one fell under police suspicion for no other reason than that he did not wear one.
I'm worried this is where we're heading. That in the crowd's headlong stampede toward connection, away from solitude and toward the endlessly yammering, clamoring din of the world, the pendulum will be pushed too far and get stuck. No matter how much of a social butterfly a person may be, in the end there's always a necessity for a pause, silence, and reflection. Constant communication is constant distraction. It interrupts. It can very easily be like trying to play Jenga during an earthquake.
Perhaps it's because I'm a writer, and I need long stretches of solitude to put my thoughts in order and come to terms with the world, that I tend to think this way. There's a discipline in self-reliance, in putting distractions aside - and if we discard that, what else will become of us, in the end?
Also, the Fourth of July. I know there are at least a few Americans reading this, so here's the flag of the United States and also Ohio's. Now go drink and attend barbecues and watch fireworks. Your media gives me the impression that doing so is your patriotic duty.
roughly luddite ranting concluded; thank you for your patienceFriday, July 3, 2009
PDP #65: Welcome to Toronto
This photo was taken last Saturday, the sixth day of the Toronto city workers' strike, on Queen Street West east of Spadina. While some garbage cans are in such low-trafficked areas that they may still be pristine, Queen West is such a pedestrian-heavy district that it's a wonder the overflow was this limited.
"We've been expecting you," a friend at the scene observed. "We just didn't give a damn."
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
"We've been expecting you," a friend at the scene observed. "We just didn't give a damn."
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
HisT.O.ry: Retracing Rogers Road
Every once in a while, between the past and future, Acts of Minor Treason takes time to look backward at some of Toronto's history - preferably the parts of it that haven't been bulldozed already.
Today the Toronto streetcar system is the largest in North America, but it's only a fragment of what it used to be. Today, those trusty Red Rockets are confined to a few of the major arteries of old Toronto, like King Street, Queen Street, Dundas and Spadina.
It wasn't always this way.
Rogers Road isn't exactly a well-known street. North of St. Clair Avenue, in the old city of York, it runs east-west from Oakwood Avenue to Weston Road through streetcar suburbia that still reflects the face of Toronto fifty years ago. The Rogers Road streetcar, running from Oakwood Loop at St. Clair Avenue to Bicknell Loop in the heart of York from 1924, bound it all together. James Bow at Transit Toronto has an excellent overview of the route, and you should read it.
In 1974, the Rogers Road route in the old city of York was abandoned, one of the last victims of the TTC's streetcar abandonment policy. Recently I retraced its route to see what evidence remains of the route, thirty-five years on.
These days, when it comes to streetcars St. Clair Avenue is as far north as they get. More recently buses have been providing service west of St. Clair West station due to the reconstruction of a right-of-way. As a result, Oakwood Loop has been temporarily severed from the streetcar system. When I visited, it was occupied by a flatbed carrying a couple of fassettas - a kind of track handling machine - and the rusted rails spoke to its disuse.
Oakwood Loop is the only place served by the Rogers Road streetcar where rails still exist, and even then it's changed. The cobblestones that the rails were set in have been removed, and today the loop's tracks run through the same bland concrete as the rest of the system. They turn sharply left on Oakwood Avenue, running south to meet St. Clair. There's not even a hint that rails once turned north from here as well.
The first street sign north of St. Clair tells me what's changed. Gone is the familiar acorn sign of Old Toronto - the starkly utilitarian blue-and-white signs are evidence I've crossed over into the old city of York. The close-packed houses that line Oakwood Avenue weren't built to identical blueprints; they represent a philosophy that died when Levittown was born. Oakwood's warm, residential atmosphere endures north to Earlsdale Avenue, where they give way to what may have been one of the old village downtown, which since 2008 has been the Oakwood Village Business Improvement Area. It reflects, I think, modern Toronto's heritage as a "community of communities," and the low-slung cityscape reminds me of streets like Roncesvalles Avenue, Queen Street West, Gerrard Street East, and St. Clair West, where the streetcars are still running.
It's the sort of cityscape that a streetcar line holds up - a cityscape anchored by small groceries and comfortable stores, where commuters coming home can hop off the streetcar, buy a few provisions, and walk to their doorstep - a cityscape reflective of the city as it was a hundred years ago. Today, it's served by the 63 Ossington and 161 Rogers Road bus routes. This pattern of development continues well north of Oakwood's intersection with Rogers Road.
Rogers Road endeared itself to me immediately for one welcome reason, one that I didn't encounter anywhere else on my trip; it had a bike lane, one that runs all the way from Oakwood Avenue to Old Weston Road. This wouldn't have been possible when the streetcar still ran. Witness all the sound and fury from right-wing members of City Council over the planned narrowing of Jarvis Street.
From Oakwood Avenue to Old Weston Road, Rogers Road is reasonably straight as it traverses small rolling hills. Residential roads branch off north and south, and leading eventually to the village downtown of Silverthorn, reminiscent of Oakwood but smaller and with more rockin' guitars.
At Old Weston Road, Rogers jogs north, and it took a moment of fumbling with my map to figure out which way to go - north, as it turned out. The cityscape of two-story brick-and-mortar commercial buildings endured all the way to Keele Street, where I came across the first substantial building that was for sure not built in the 1950s, dwarfing the houses below.
In its heyday, the Rogers Road streetcar brought smooth, comfortable, electric transit service to the people of York along a route nearly four kilometers long. East of Weston Road, just short of the railway tracks, it all ended. Bicknell Loop, at the northwest corner of Rogers Road and Bicknell Avenue, was where westbound Rogers Road streetcars turned around to clatter east, back to Oakwood Loop. Bicknell was where I found the only evidence north of St. Clair that streetcars had ever been here.
At Bicknell, the past was palpable.
The only thing that's changed at Bicknell Loop is the degree of rust. Pictures of Bicknell as a functioning loop are available at Transit Toronto, and the shelter, chain link fence, and center pole are all still there. The pole held up some of the electrical wires, still used when Rogers Road streetcars were replaced with trolleybuses, but eventually even those were pulled down. The pole remains, but it doesn't do anything.
Neither, for that matter, does Bicknell Loop itself. A sign on the shelter advises vandalism to be reported to the City of York, which has not existed for eleven years. The signs at the entrances say "Bus Entrance Only," but none have used it for nearly ten years. The buses pass by Bicknell Loop for Avon Loop on the other side of the bridge, itself another relic of a vanished streetcar route. The TTC declared Bicknell to be surplus back in 2000, and eventually something new may rise on its site. When that happens, the last tangible evidence of the Rogers Road streetcar will disappear. Its obliteration will be complete, remembered only by a few.
Nevertheless...
The streetcars might not run on Rogers Road anymore, but you can still hear them when the wind is right. You hear them in the bustle of the village downtowns the route passes through, and you see them in the state of the streets the streetcars once rolled down. Evidence for the Rogers Road streetcar is still there, but implicit, like an Iroquois village reconstructed from the buried foundations of longhouses.
There are patterns in the roads still, no matter how long it's been since the pattern-makers disappeared.
Ancient HisT.O.ry:
Today the Toronto streetcar system is the largest in North America, but it's only a fragment of what it used to be. Today, those trusty Red Rockets are confined to a few of the major arteries of old Toronto, like King Street, Queen Street, Dundas and Spadina.
It wasn't always this way.
Rogers Road isn't exactly a well-known street. North of St. Clair Avenue, in the old city of York, it runs east-west from Oakwood Avenue to Weston Road through streetcar suburbia that still reflects the face of Toronto fifty years ago. The Rogers Road streetcar, running from Oakwood Loop at St. Clair Avenue to Bicknell Loop in the heart of York from 1924, bound it all together. James Bow at Transit Toronto has an excellent overview of the route, and you should read it.
In 1974, the Rogers Road route in the old city of York was abandoned, one of the last victims of the TTC's streetcar abandonment policy. Recently I retraced its route to see what evidence remains of the route, thirty-five years on.
Southern Terminus
These days, when it comes to streetcars St. Clair Avenue is as far north as they get. More recently buses have been providing service west of St. Clair West station due to the reconstruction of a right-of-way. As a result, Oakwood Loop has been temporarily severed from the streetcar system. When I visited, it was occupied by a flatbed carrying a couple of fassettas - a kind of track handling machine - and the rusted rails spoke to its disuse.
Oakwood Loop is the only place served by the Rogers Road streetcar where rails still exist, and even then it's changed. The cobblestones that the rails were set in have been removed, and today the loop's tracks run through the same bland concrete as the rest of the system. They turn sharply left on Oakwood Avenue, running south to meet St. Clair. There's not even a hint that rails once turned north from here as well.
Running North
The first street sign north of St. Clair tells me what's changed. Gone is the familiar acorn sign of Old Toronto - the starkly utilitarian blue-and-white signs are evidence I've crossed over into the old city of York. The close-packed houses that line Oakwood Avenue weren't built to identical blueprints; they represent a philosophy that died when Levittown was born. Oakwood's warm, residential atmosphere endures north to Earlsdale Avenue, where they give way to what may have been one of the old village downtown, which since 2008 has been the Oakwood Village Business Improvement Area. It reflects, I think, modern Toronto's heritage as a "community of communities," and the low-slung cityscape reminds me of streets like Roncesvalles Avenue, Queen Street West, Gerrard Street East, and St. Clair West, where the streetcars are still running.
It's the sort of cityscape that a streetcar line holds up - a cityscape anchored by small groceries and comfortable stores, where commuters coming home can hop off the streetcar, buy a few provisions, and walk to their doorstep - a cityscape reflective of the city as it was a hundred years ago. Today, it's served by the 63 Ossington and 161 Rogers Road bus routes. This pattern of development continues well north of Oakwood's intersection with Rogers Road.
Running West
Rogers Road endeared itself to me immediately for one welcome reason, one that I didn't encounter anywhere else on my trip; it had a bike lane, one that runs all the way from Oakwood Avenue to Old Weston Road. This wouldn't have been possible when the streetcar still ran. Witness all the sound and fury from right-wing members of City Council over the planned narrowing of Jarvis Street.
From Oakwood Avenue to Old Weston Road, Rogers Road is reasonably straight as it traverses small rolling hills. Residential roads branch off north and south, and leading eventually to the village downtown of Silverthorn, reminiscent of Oakwood but smaller and with more rockin' guitars.
At Old Weston Road, Rogers jogs north, and it took a moment of fumbling with my map to figure out which way to go - north, as it turned out. The cityscape of two-story brick-and-mortar commercial buildings endured all the way to Keele Street, where I came across the first substantial building that was for sure not built in the 1950s, dwarfing the houses below.
In its heyday, the Rogers Road streetcar brought smooth, comfortable, electric transit service to the people of York along a route nearly four kilometers long. East of Weston Road, just short of the railway tracks, it all ended. Bicknell Loop, at the northwest corner of Rogers Road and Bicknell Avenue, was where westbound Rogers Road streetcars turned around to clatter east, back to Oakwood Loop. Bicknell was where I found the only evidence north of St. Clair that streetcars had ever been here.
At Bicknell, the past was palpable.
The Western Terminus
The only thing that's changed at Bicknell Loop is the degree of rust. Pictures of Bicknell as a functioning loop are available at Transit Toronto, and the shelter, chain link fence, and center pole are all still there. The pole held up some of the electrical wires, still used when Rogers Road streetcars were replaced with trolleybuses, but eventually even those were pulled down. The pole remains, but it doesn't do anything.
Neither, for that matter, does Bicknell Loop itself. A sign on the shelter advises vandalism to be reported to the City of York, which has not existed for eleven years. The signs at the entrances say "Bus Entrance Only," but none have used it for nearly ten years. The buses pass by Bicknell Loop for Avon Loop on the other side of the bridge, itself another relic of a vanished streetcar route. The TTC declared Bicknell to be surplus back in 2000, and eventually something new may rise on its site. When that happens, the last tangible evidence of the Rogers Road streetcar will disappear. Its obliteration will be complete, remembered only by a few.
Nevertheless...
The streetcars might not run on Rogers Road anymore, but you can still hear them when the wind is right. You hear them in the bustle of the village downtowns the route passes through, and you see them in the state of the streets the streetcars once rolled down. Evidence for the Rogers Road streetcar is still there, but implicit, like an Iroquois village reconstructed from the buried foundations of longhouses.
There are patterns in the roads still, no matter how long it's been since the pattern-makers disappeared.
Ancient HisT.O.ry:
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Also, Canada Day
In my brain, infinitely superior to Dominion Day and the Red Ensign.
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
PDP #64: This Seems Oddly Familiar
In east Toronto - or maybe East York - at the intersection of Danforth Avenue and Linnsmore Crescent, there's a two-in-one restaurant with a sign I couldn't believe: Sir Greek and Sir Sub. They're conventional, if odd, names, but what really drew my attention is how suspiciously similarly the sign follows the signature fonts used by Mr. Greek and Mr. Sub franchises in Canada.
This is hardly the only time I've come across this kind of signage, either. I mean, come on. Really now.
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
This is hardly the only time I've come across this kind of signage, either. I mean, come on. Really now.
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Extra, Extra: English Hard to Spell
On Sunday in North America and Monday in Australia, the Sydney Morning Herald reported on the findings of a survey reminding us that, yes, written English is not straightforward. The survey of four hundred people over the age of 16 in Sydney and Melbourne found that 70% of respondents couldn't correctly spell "accommodation," and 25% consistently misspelled "February." Probably as Febuary, though I don't know if that pronunciation is common down there.
It's something I've been seeing increasingly often myself, from quarters you wouldn't necessarily expect. The Herald's story cites Deborah Abela, an Australian children's author, who blamed "spell check and text message abbreviations" for the poor showing. While technological assistance is probably a factor in the decline of spelling ability, it won't be for a decade or two until the scope of such effects really become evident.
This isn't just a problem in Australia, either. It's systemic. Rarely a day goes by when I don't come across some error of language. Witness those TTC extended-service ads which used "everyday" instead of "every day" and were everywhere, and which I personally complained about to TTC Chair Adam Giambrone. Sure, part of it's no doubt due to the crutch effect of technological aids. Beyond that, though, there's a lot of damage that can be done to the language through laziness and simple ignorance.
If you've spent any time at all on the internet, you've probably seen someone write "should of" when they mean "should've." This is a simple problem of ignorance compounded by the nature of the language. "Should've" and "should of" both sound the same, and if someone is more used to speaking than writing, when it does come time to write it's easy to understand that they'd go for the familiar, unaware that it's wrong.
I see this in Toronto a great deal, too. One of our main east-west streets and the gateway to Midtown is Eglinton Avenue, named after a village that once stood where the intersection of Yonge and Eglinton is today. In the 1820s, a clerical error transformed "Eglinton" into "Eglington" - this was not the first time a city was named for a misspelling - and it wasn't until sixty years later that the extra "g" was finally removed.
That hasn't stopped people, though. The common pronunciation in Toronto seems to skew far closer to "Eglington" than it does "Eglinton." With the error maintained in the spoken word, it's no wonder that the extra G keeps appearing where it's unwelcome. The new automated announcements on the subways and buses use the correct pronunciation, though, so there's a fair chance that the proper spelling will be cemented in the years to come. Right now there are two million hits on Google for "Eglinton" and only 207,000 for "Eglington" - and only that because there apparently are a few people with the surname Eglington.
Strangely enough, there doesn't seem to be any similar problem with spelling "Etobicoke."
It's something I've been seeing increasingly often myself, from quarters you wouldn't necessarily expect. The Herald's story cites Deborah Abela, an Australian children's author, who blamed "spell check and text message abbreviations" for the poor showing. While technological assistance is probably a factor in the decline of spelling ability, it won't be for a decade or two until the scope of such effects really become evident.
This isn't just a problem in Australia, either. It's systemic. Rarely a day goes by when I don't come across some error of language. Witness those TTC extended-service ads which used "everyday" instead of "every day" and were everywhere, and which I personally complained about to TTC Chair Adam Giambrone. Sure, part of it's no doubt due to the crutch effect of technological aids. Beyond that, though, there's a lot of damage that can be done to the language through laziness and simple ignorance.
If you've spent any time at all on the internet, you've probably seen someone write "should of" when they mean "should've." This is a simple problem of ignorance compounded by the nature of the language. "Should've" and "should of" both sound the same, and if someone is more used to speaking than writing, when it does come time to write it's easy to understand that they'd go for the familiar, unaware that it's wrong.
I see this in Toronto a great deal, too. One of our main east-west streets and the gateway to Midtown is Eglinton Avenue, named after a village that once stood where the intersection of Yonge and Eglinton is today. In the 1820s, a clerical error transformed "Eglinton" into "Eglington" - this was not the first time a city was named for a misspelling - and it wasn't until sixty years later that the extra "g" was finally removed.
That hasn't stopped people, though. The common pronunciation in Toronto seems to skew far closer to "Eglington" than it does "Eglinton." With the error maintained in the spoken word, it's no wonder that the extra G keeps appearing where it's unwelcome. The new automated announcements on the subways and buses use the correct pronunciation, though, so there's a fair chance that the proper spelling will be cemented in the years to come. Right now there are two million hits on Google for "Eglinton" and only 207,000 for "Eglington" - and only that because there apparently are a few people with the surname Eglington.
Strangely enough, there doesn't seem to be any similar problem with spelling "Etobicoke."
Monday, June 29, 2009
PDP #63: Fred Grant Square
It seems as if every Canadian community of village-size and greater, so long as it existed before 1914, must have its own war memorial. That's no surprise thanks to places like Passchendaele and the Somme. Many of them are simple and straightforward in their own way, such as in Long Branch, others with cenotaphs carved with the names of the fallen, or monuments in cities such as Toronto inscribed with the battles and wars where they fell.
My old hometown Barrie has its own memorial in Fred Grant Square, between Dunlop Street and Kempenfelt Bay, in the heart of its vestigial downtown. The statue of the soldier on top helps, I think, to ground it. While the war memorials in Peterborough and Vimy Ridge do include statues, in both places they're symbolic representations of Canada; I think the choice of the First World War soldier at Fred Grant Square represents well the down-to-earth attitudes of what was, at the time, a small-to-middling Central Ontario community.
It makes the war less of an apocalypse and more a thing of men.
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
My old hometown Barrie has its own memorial in Fred Grant Square, between Dunlop Street and Kempenfelt Bay, in the heart of its vestigial downtown. The statue of the soldier on top helps, I think, to ground it. While the war memorials in Peterborough and Vimy Ridge do include statues, in both places they're symbolic representations of Canada; I think the choice of the First World War soldier at Fred Grant Square represents well the down-to-earth attitudes of what was, at the time, a small-to-middling Central Ontario community.
It makes the war less of an apocalypse and more a thing of men.
I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby release it into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In case this is not legally possible, I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Road to 2011: Premier Who-Dat?
As of yesterday the Progressive Conservative Party of Ontario leadership race is over, and Tim Who-Dat Hudak will be their great golden hope to carry them back to the Premier's Office after a six-year absence. I can't say I'm surprised, but neither can I say I'm excited - I wrote about his run back in April, and even then he seemed like one of the better candidates. Witness Christine Elliot's predilection for a flat tax, say, or Randy Hillier's proposal to have "Highway 448" crash through Scarborough1 and to dismantle the Ontario Human Rights Commission. I've seen Frank Klees described as a "social conservative," but I haven't yet found anything in the fragments of his platform to bear that out.
It seems as if Hudak may be the least objectionable of the lot.
Oh, joy.
Hudak's victory was the lead story on the Toronto Star's website this morning, and it ran with a photograph of Hudak being congratulated by former Premier Mike Harris, who ran the province (into the ground, some might say) from 1995 to 2002. Highly appropriate, as Hudak has ditched his previous "unknown cipher" status and embraced the role of a Harris loyalist, and if he does march victorious into Queen's Park two years from now, we'd only need to look at history to see what he'd do.
I suppose that the time is more than good enough to hold a wake for the Big Blue Machine. Back in the day, you see, the Progressive Conservatives had the same sort of grip over Ontario as the Liberal Democratic Party still does in Japan. In the sixty-two years between 1923 and 1985, the PCs were only out of power for a nine-year interlude, and most of that owed to Mitchell Hepburn. They managed this stretch by being competent in government, by not rocking the boat, and particularly in the 1970s by out-liberalling the Liberals.
Back then, it seems "conservatism" meant a steady hand on the wheel, worthwhile investment, and a lack of interest in legislating social issues or ideology. While Mike Harris didn't represent social conservatism of the sort that's far more common in the United States, he sure as hell did use Queen's Park as a blunt instrument to stamp his ideology onto Ontario. Among his more storied victories were the forcible amalgamation of the cities of Metropolitan Toronto and the sale of Highway 407 to a foreign company in a sweetheart 99-year-lease that included unlimited control of tolls on the highway. In the original plan it was only supposed to be a toll road for thirty-five years, and that only to pay off the cost of its construction.
Why was it sold, by the by? According to a 1999 article from TOLLROADSnews, because the province would get $900 million "profit" back after paying off its 407-related debts. And, you know, why would the province possibly want to retain control over a major highway when it could turn it into a one-time opportunity for bread and circuses right before an election?
The Big Blue Machine is dead and, at least in the foreseeable future, isn't coming back. Personally I feel that the success of Stephen Harper's Conservatives at the federal level are responsible for this. The Conservatives in Ottawa have taken a particularly right-wing tack ever since their foundation in 2003, and really, it Just Wouldn't Do for provincial conservatives to be ideologically out-of-step with their federal brethren. Bear in mind I'm not saying this isn't something Harper's engineered. It's more the case that there's only room for one flavor of conservatism in government at a time.
At this point, it's far, far too early to speculate on whether Hudak will actually win the 2011 election. All I can say is that there's a chance for it to happen, and given the legacy Mike Harris left this province, I can't say that I'm looking forward to the prospect of an encore.
1 But he DID support building the Downtown Relief Line... I'm torn!
It seems as if Hudak may be the least objectionable of the lot.
Oh, joy.
Hudak's victory was the lead story on the Toronto Star's website this morning, and it ran with a photograph of Hudak being congratulated by former Premier Mike Harris, who ran the province (into the ground, some might say) from 1995 to 2002. Highly appropriate, as Hudak has ditched his previous "unknown cipher" status and embraced the role of a Harris loyalist, and if he does march victorious into Queen's Park two years from now, we'd only need to look at history to see what he'd do.
I suppose that the time is more than good enough to hold a wake for the Big Blue Machine. Back in the day, you see, the Progressive Conservatives had the same sort of grip over Ontario as the Liberal Democratic Party still does in Japan. In the sixty-two years between 1923 and 1985, the PCs were only out of power for a nine-year interlude, and most of that owed to Mitchell Hepburn. They managed this stretch by being competent in government, by not rocking the boat, and particularly in the 1970s by out-liberalling the Liberals.
Back then, it seems "conservatism" meant a steady hand on the wheel, worthwhile investment, and a lack of interest in legislating social issues or ideology. While Mike Harris didn't represent social conservatism of the sort that's far more common in the United States, he sure as hell did use Queen's Park as a blunt instrument to stamp his ideology onto Ontario. Among his more storied victories were the forcible amalgamation of the cities of Metropolitan Toronto and the sale of Highway 407 to a foreign company in a sweetheart 99-year-lease that included unlimited control of tolls on the highway. In the original plan it was only supposed to be a toll road for thirty-five years, and that only to pay off the cost of its construction.
Why was it sold, by the by? According to a 1999 article from TOLLROADSnews, because the province would get $900 million "profit" back after paying off its 407-related debts. And, you know, why would the province possibly want to retain control over a major highway when it could turn it into a one-time opportunity for bread and circuses right before an election?
The Big Blue Machine is dead and, at least in the foreseeable future, isn't coming back. Personally I feel that the success of Stephen Harper's Conservatives at the federal level are responsible for this. The Conservatives in Ottawa have taken a particularly right-wing tack ever since their foundation in 2003, and really, it Just Wouldn't Do for provincial conservatives to be ideologically out-of-step with their federal brethren. Bear in mind I'm not saying this isn't something Harper's engineered. It's more the case that there's only room for one flavor of conservatism in government at a time.
At this point, it's far, far too early to speculate on whether Hudak will actually win the 2011 election. All I can say is that there's a chance for it to happen, and given the legacy Mike Harris left this province, I can't say that I'm looking forward to the prospect of an encore.
1 But he DID support building the Downtown Relief Line... I'm torn!
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