It’s Time to Wake Up and Rise Up Canada!

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When Donald Trump was elected President on November 8, 2016, the United States of America hit a new low. Trump lost the popular vote, but won the Electoral College, in a pseudo-democratic electoral system that is biased towards rural America. If the United States were some third-rate tin-pot dictatorship, Trump’s political victory would only matter to the unfortunate citizens of that country. Unfortunately, the United States of America is the most powerful nation on earth. With a thousand military bases and/or installations worldwide and over seven thousand nuclear warheads, the United States of America is the greatest threat to world peace.

Dr. Lawrence Britt has identified fourteen characteristics of fascism, including nationalism, disdain for human rights, identification of enemies/scapegoats as a unifying cause, militarism, sexism, anti mass media, obsession with national security, identification of government and religion, corporatism, anti labour, anti culture, obsession with law and order, cronyism and corruption, and election fraud. Since September 11, 2001, the Bush administration established the ideological, political and legal framework for the explicit rise of fascism in America, covertly adopted by the Obama administration and now overtly embraced by Trump in his campaign rhetoric. There is no reason to believe that Trump will do anything else than continue and intensify the actions of his predecessors, but while Obama did so covertly while masquerading as a liberal, Trump will now do so overtly  as an unapologetic fascist. The United States of America has in fact embraced explicit fascism. If by some miracle it turns out that Trump was merely indulging his megalomaniacal delusions of grandeur and turns into another Obama, the forces of reaction, racism and militarism that brought him to power, now united by a single focus, will simply turn on Trump and embrace a new ideologue, perhaps a new Adolf Hitler, waiting in the wings for the next election in 2020 or if Trump is reelected, in 2024.

The entire world is stunned by the political victory of Donald Trump, but we in Canada stand in a particular relationship with the United States of America that demands immediate and urgent concern. Tom Mulcair of the New Democratic Party, despite his meager performance in the recent Canadian election, has at least had the integrity to call out Trump for what he is, while our new “pretty boy” Prime Minister has danced around the topic with typical Liberal hypocrisy.

Donald Trump’s victory is, however, not merely a matter for Americans. We too have our rural “white trash” electorate, who supported the fascistic leanings of another PM for ten years before he was finally defeated. The Conservative Party of Canada has already moved to the right in the wake of the Trump victory, and there is no reason to believe that their support will be anything but galvanized thereby.

Oh Canada! it is time to wake up and rise up and acknowledge the evil that exposes itself before us. If we do nothing, the generations of the future will judge us harshly, for we must stand up to the evil before us, recognize it, acknowledge it, repudiate it, and organize ourselves and act, for the poison of Donald Trump does not merely infect America. It is here too in Canada, in the financial elites that are exploiting our country, in the servile suburbanites that serve them, in the political establishment that mocks us, and in the rural backwaters that stagnate and infest our country and our police and military.

This writer can no longer remain silent and this blog post is merely the first of many that will expose this evil and discuss the solutions that still, for now, remain possible, but not for much longer. The clock is ticking, the sands are running through the hour-glass, the time has come to utterly annihilate this cancer or be totally consumed by it, and the odds are against us.

Oh Canada! I write for you. The time has come to choose.

The Book of Rabbits

I

IT’S CHRISTMAS MORNING IN AUSCHWITZ

This THAT I AM, the karmic ambiguity,

Is what we see,

Our reality,

Not frail disposed flesh twitching on a string,

Arising out of hills of infamy

Christ’s fires burning

On distant hilltops

Snowflakes turning

In silent cacophony

As the bells still toll shrill in Auschwitz.

It’s Christmas Eve in Auschwitz.

The whole village settles down to sleep

In flannel nightgowns and eiderdowns

Festooned with swastikas and dollar signs.

We cuddle down to sleep

Our heads pressed against our edifying pillows of politics and poetry,

Facebook and twitter,

All aflitter,

Listening to the raindrops

Pelting on the windowpane.

And think, “How sweet,

Another storm again,”

And move and murmur in our sleep of celebrity,

O MAN: WILL YOU EVER BE AWAKE?

OR WILL YOU DIE HAVING NEVER BEEN BORN,

OR KNOWING WHO HAS DONE TO YOU

OR WHY,

OR EVEN DEMANDING TO KNOW,

LIKE A SICK BEATEN CUR CRYING AND TWITCHING IN ITS OWN STENCH AND VOMIT IN THE SLOUGH

EACH CRY A NEW CRESCENDO OF VULGARITY

IN THE CORNER OF THE BARN

ON THE ROUGH WOODEN FLOOR OF A DUSTBIN OF HISTORY,

OR EVEN KNOWING THERE IS A QUESTION

BEFORE THAT CAT CATCHES US (BEJESUS!).

 

Surrounded by the feathers and nests of new kittens.

WHAT WILL IT TAKE

TO KICK US AWAKE?

THE LARGER THE LITTER,

THE LESS EACH ONE SEEMS.

O MAN! EMERGE FROM YOUR DREAM!

 

Pantomimes on a wall.

But we know what archetypes flow through these veins

Cast in the skeins

Of naked rock and crevice and claw

As we carve up our way out of the mud and slough

To slay the pinnacles of our desire

Only to be cast back upon the burning apex of the pyramid,

Ourselves.

Wherein infinities of mirrors

Endlessly reflecting

Their own intricate assemblies,

Symmetries

And disymmetries

Like the interior of the diamond.

And we abide in that too, for a moment.

 WHAT’S LEFT TO PLAY AFTER KUNDALINI PORN?

II.

Rabbit rabbit rabbit

Rabbit, rabbits, white rabbits

Bunny, bunny, bunny foot

Lucky bunny, see your savoury bottom

Dashing off into the bush.

Follow you into the forest,

Lose you there, there’s no way out!

What’s this mist, what are those noises,

Throaty rasps bestir the night

With moans and tremors of things quixotic

Larval, laryngeal and malformed delights,

Like cancerous women’s breasts and ovae of foam spat out upon the ragged shores of flesh,

Decomposing into their traceries,

Charcoal filaments bestudded with diamonds.

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