Pretty soon, they’ll want to vote, too…
So, Team Canada’s women hockey players celebrated their gold medal win with champagne, beer and cigars on the ice, after everyone else cleared out. That seems like a pretty tame celebration by Vancouver standards. Still, the photos caused some pearl-clutching south of the border and hit the headlines of almost every major news organization. And the IOC isn’t happy.
“If that’s the case, that is not good. It is not what we want to see,” he said. “I don’t think it’s a good promotion of sport values. If they celebrate in the changing room, that’s one thing, but not in public.”
Now, some people are a bit confused, wondering what the big deal is. So, I’ve compiled a helpful guide to clearly illustrate why this is such a problem.
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Haiti: On Roads and Recovery
It’s been almost a month since the earthquake that hit Haiti threw that country into chaos. It’s natural to take a look back, take stock of the response to the disaster and what lessons are to be learned.
There must be a better way to coordinate international relief efforts when a natural disaster strikes, some lead agency to ensure the airport is open, the roads are clear and that medical supplies and food are distributed based on need. We need to establish mission control in advance — not to dictate rescue and recovery efforts, but to organize and keep track of them.
The talk about infrastructure was what really got me thinking.
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An Open Letter to Tony Caterina
Hey there Tony,
It has been a couple months since I’ve lived in Edmonton. Actually, I moved from the city shortly after the vote to close the City Centre Airport.
I know you remember that vote.
You see, despite the fact that I don’t live there anymore, I like keeping up on what’s going on back home. That’s how I know that you remember the airport vote. Because you keep bringing it up, Tony.
Meet Rossy
My friend Ross needs a bio written for him because he’s…well….when Ross starts saying something, I usually tune out. Anyway, rest assured, he needs a bio.
Like any other project I work on, I thought the best way would be just to check on Wikipedia. But, nothing came up when I searched for “Ross Prusakowski.” So, I just clicked on the first link that Wikipedia recommended, and I changed a few things to make it fit:
In GATEWAY mythology, a ROSS PRUSAKOWSKI was a SNUGGLEBUM, water nymph, CUP DINOSAUR or mermaid-like ECONOMIST that dwelled in a UNIVERSITY OF ALBERTA. ROSS was considered a being of evil force. The ghostly version is the soul of a young COOKIE who had died ON or near THE INTERNET (many of these ROSS PRUSAKOWSKI had been murdered by SPORTS EDITORS) and came to haunt NASH; this ROSS PRUSAKOWSKI is not invariably malevolent, and will be allowed to DRINK in peace if HIS PINT is DELIVERED SWIFTLY . In most versions, the ROSS PRUSAKOWSKI is an unquiet dead FIRE TRUCK.
You’re welcome, Ross. My invoice is in the mail.
Malcolm Gladwell Fumbles on the Goal line
The meat of the article is pretty solid – there’s an epidemic of dementia and other brain injuries among professional football players. The research that Gladwell is looking at shows that it isn’t the one-time hard hits that may be the most danger: it’s the constant knocks to the head that players take as part of the game.
We must stop Google: A ScreenShot Essay
Ah. Thanksgiving. A day of relaxation, of visiting with family. After eight maddening weeks of introduction to J-school, it’s a weekend where I can lean back and reflect on how when I get my degree, there probably won’t be a journalism industry left. Just Google, sending News Spiders to our homes with the day’s events. For free.
Still in beta
Right and Wrong on Roman
EDIT: Edited for some HTML errors that kept popping up. Also, my first go around, committed the faux pas of not linking to either Weinstien or Murphy. My bad.
Busker Festival
It’s been a hot weekend so far In Halifax, made worse by the humidity. I’m not a creature who does well in heat, and my first instinct is to make a made dash (fine, lethargic crawl) towards the first opportunity for shade/water. If it’s downhill from my current location, all the better.
It was that instinct that had me hitting the waterfront again yesterday. Can’t say I found much shade. And you’d have to be made to want to spent any time in the waters of the harbour. But, luckily enough, I was able to catch a few acts at the International Busker Festival, which more than made up for the deathly heat.
Arts and Crafts Time!
I have a notebook that I like to keep on me. It’s homemade, little more than scraps of paper stapled together with a little stub of a pencil shoved between the pages. I carry it around in case I think of photo ideas, story ideas, need to write down a phone number or address or what not.
I love it. The only problem with this notebook that I have access to at all times is that I HAVE ACCESS TO IT AT ALL TIMES. Even when I have thoughts that should be immediately forgotten – like say, last night when I was stumbling home from trivia night at the campus pub.
See, now that Mr Hyde has access to my notebook, he can make demands, knowing full well that my sober, upstanding Dr Jekyll self will be forced to read them the next morning. (Or, sometimes, early afternoon.) Many of them are inchoerent and foolish, destined for the garbage bin. But sometimes they aren’t just random thoughts. Sometimes, they are demands.
I could sell these notebooks to hipsters for $5 a pop and make MILLIONS!
Canada: The Remedial Class
It pains me that this is a discussion we even need to be having.
Honestly. Out comes another report from another committee that puts forth the ‘controversial’ position that “hey, maybe if the RCMP is accused of doing something wrong, we shouldn’t let the RCMP investigate it.
From the report:
“Can the current process of the RCMP investigating itself legitimately engender confidence in the transparency and integrity of the criminal investigation and its outcome?
“Based on the results of our research and analysis, the informed commission answer is that it cannot.”
Canada, this is Responsible Government 101, and we’re failing it badly.
