How deliciously ironic that Canadian author Yann Martel has been trying stubbornly and fruitlessly for YEARS to get Prime Minister Stephen Harper to think about literature via his project What Is Stephen Harper Reading? and meanwhile he received a very thoughtful handwritten note about his book Life of Pi from President Obama. One out of two heads of state isn't bad, I guess.
Letters of Note is an amazing new blog I (and everyone else with an RSS reader) just discovered. Many of them are just fascinating-- do start with the ones in the sidebar (Elvis's Federal Agent at Large and JFK's I Will Not Sign This Letter are great) but many of the letters by non-famous people are just as good.
Dear the guy who sent the inspirational email forward about the badly burned little girl to the entire building, indicating that if we just forwarded the email, she would magically receive money for her medical treatment, and the two guys who sent the "THIS IS A HOAX" notificatsions, also to the entire building:
Thanks. No really, thank you. All thousand of us realllllly appreciate it.
Love,
Jocelyn
Dear the lady behind me in line at Save-on-foods yesterday:
Yes, your husband sure sounds like a dick, although it sounds like the disintegration of your marriage started a long time ago and was probably not entirely his fault. You're right, you do need a haircut. Yes, you probably should use your save-on-more card to buy your single jar of honey. I don't know if you should get a dog. If you do decide to get one, I would definitely recommend a schnauzer over a daschund or a chihuahua. And yes, you will have to take it to the vet, and yes, it will be expensive. So maybe it's not a good idea. You don't sound like the most responsible person.
Dear the guy in front of me in line at Save-on-foods yesterday:
Thanks. I hope you have the greatest day of your life today, too.
Jennifer Stoddart, the Privacy Commissioner of Canada, wrote an awesome letter to Jim Prentice and Josée Verner (the ministers of Industry and Canadian Heritage, respectively) about DRM. I found out about this from boingboing--I'm happy that someone there has such a passion for Canadian copyright reform. An excerpt:
My office has prepared an information sheet on DRM technology, a copy of which is enclosed for your information.This makes my heart happy on a cold, coffeeless Monday morning.
If DRM technologies only controlled copying and use of content, our Office would have few concerns. However, DRM technologies can also collect detailed personal information from users, who often do no more than access the content on a computer. This information is transmitted back to the copyright owner or content provider, without the consent or knowledge of the user. Although the means exist to circumvent these technologies and thus prevent the collection of this information, previous proposals to amend the Copyright Act contained anti-circumvention provisions.
Pictures of your cat with a circuitboard/computer/monitor/mouse are not funny. Stop posting them. You suck.
Hey, internet,
So, longer letter later, but here's the e-mail I just sent to Canadian Minister of Industry (and Calgary MP) Jim Prentice (who is holding a "Fair Copyright" open house today in Calgary, organized on Facebook!):
Dear Sir,
As an Albertan, I very much appreciate your decision to solicit opinions on forthcoming copyright reform from your constitutents today at your "Fair Copyright" open house. Unfortunately, I was not able to make the drive to Calgary, but I hope that you can take a few minutes to read my response to recent developments in Canadian copyright reform.
I am a Canadian who cares about Canada's cultural policy, and I am writing in regard to legislative proposals for "copyright reform." I am also a librarian, and I believe very strongly that Canada's legislation on copyright needs to reflect the rights and needs of users. Following the United States' lead by setting draconian copyright legislation that makes information users into criminals will not benefit the government, the country, or its citizens in the long run. In particular, I do not believe that "digital rights management" (DRM) technologies should stop the public from making lawful uses of their legitimately acquired media. Publishers using DRM push aside the delicate balance between copyright and the rights of the public - a balance set according to an assessment of the public interest by legislators - and replace it with one-sided rules that reflect publishers' economic interests. Technology should not take the place of law in controlling who has access to information, or how information can be used. New copyright reform legislation should not make it illegal to circumvent DRM for lawful purposes.
These concerns are shared by a substantial and growing number of informed Canadian citizens. I hope that you will take them into account when considering any changes to Canadian copyright law. Thanks very much for your time.
From The Morning News: A letter from Hollywood by Josh A. Cagan. "Won’t the cast of Lost be surprised when they realize they’re not lost on an island, but at TARGET! Watch as they discover a hatch-load of savings!" Heh.
More on joshcagan.net.
It just occurred to me what while writers are on strike, it might be a writer's strike, since all we're left with is a bunch of people who don't know how to use apostrophes.
You don't know me, but I feel like I know you all too well. Your voice is often the first thing I hear when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I hear before I fall asleep--although not in a romantic way. What's your problem, Screaming Guy? It's not that I don't understand the impulse. I think we all feel like screaming, sometimes. The world can be an intense, frustrating, bleak place. I guess the difference between you and the rest of us, though, is that we went through that all-important childhood phase when you realize that your actions have an impact on other people, and that if you concentrate real hard, you can actually IMAGINE HOW THEY MUST FEEL. This is called empathy, Screaming Guy. And if I could give it to you in a bottle, or for that matter in a huge hypodermic needle--or in the spikes on a large, iron mace!--I would.
I used to think you were a real psycho. In fact, the first time I heard your screaming, I was so afraid you were going to kill someone that I called the police. But since then, I've begun to suspect that (a) you are not actually screaming AT anyone, and thus, are not an immediate danger; and that (b) given the frequency of your screaming, it is probably brought on by things the rest of us take in stride. As such, I don't even respect your angst any more. Run out of milk, Screaming Guy? Go to Mac's! Miss your favourite TV show? It'll be on next week! Forget to go to the bank before it closes? Don't worry, there's an ATM! See what I'm doing here, Screaming Guy? I'm taking things that can be frustrating, that can induce the feeling you want to scream, and dealing with them in a constructive way, by suggesting SOLUTIONS AND WORK-AROUNDS to problems. This is a skill you could afford to develop, Screaming Guy. Maybe then your neighbours wouldn't all think you are a sociopath, and report you to the condo building manager/police, or contemplate putting up passive-aggressive signs in your hallway. (Mine would say: "Dear Screaming Guy: Do you realize that EVERYONE ON ALL SIDES CAN HEAR YOU? Shut up, seriously.")
It's not too late, Screaming Guy. Just think, if you stopped screaming, what you could accomplish! You could make friends, or get a job, or sleep through the night! Hell, I could sleep through the night, too! Wouldn't that be nice? Plus, I bet anyone who spends at least an hour a week screaming, "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" at the tops of his lungs can't be that happy. So it might have a positive effect on you too.
You should think on it, or scream on it, or whatever.
-Jocelyn
Dear Matt,
It's nice to meet you. Or as we used to say in Spanish 100, el gusto es mio. I am glad we have grown (bizarrely organically) to be blog-buddies. I like knowing that every obsessive Joss-Whedon-obsessed post I write will find at least one appreciative reader. Thanks for humouring me by dressing like your South Park version. Thanks for the Lost and Harry Potter updates--I just ziplisted the first season of Lost, mainly so I would know what you were talking about (no cable!). Thanks for making me your special case/fellow supervillain (I like this metaphor by the way. Rather than the Riddler, though, if possible I would like to put in a request for Catwoman). Together we shall rule Metaphor Gotham City.
Yours in green and pink,
Jocelyn
Besides the end of the world, I have some healthier obsessions, and one is correspondence. Thus, open letters, a website I just discovered. Particularly good are the letters by a woman who identifies herself as x, who writes to the absent father of her son about his adolescence. The author has since been revealed to be Winnipeg author Miriam Toews.
History of the Fisher Price airplane. "In 1951, Stalin had reiterated his call for "one of the toughest engineering problems facing our nation" -- a plane that could carry a dad, a mom, their family, and the dog to a playground in Irkutsk." Tee hee.
howtopedia is a new DIY resource site with projects and tips like "how to make chocolate," "what to do with tin cans," and "how to build a small wind turbine." Just yesterday, I had the urge to build a small wind turbine, but I didn't have the information I needed to do so. Plus, I immediately decided I would rather watch Medium.
hometown baghdad is an interesting documentary series on life in Iraq.
Remember when I moved here, Edmonton, when I was 13? We liked each other instantly. I loved your dramatic river valley, your festivals, your funky secret neighbourhoods. I liked the friendly people who lived here. You seemed perfect for me, the unpretentious prairies of my rosy childhood. My whole family was recovering from a horrible, underfunded foray East, and you seemed like the antidote.
As years went by my affection for you deepened. I liked the great university, improv at the Varscona, the Shakespeare festival, the Indian restaurants in Mill Woods. I even liked West Edmonton Mall, in a weird, masochistic way, and I still go there to buy things one can certainly buy other places than West Edmonton Mall. I loved taking my dog (remember Toby?) down to the river valley in the summer and sitting, baking, on the clay shores of the river, and being able to believe that I was in the wilderness--and yet a fifteen minute walk away from squishees. I liked the LRT system. When I got a bit older and moved to Old Strathcona, I loved the Chinese takeaway and the local library and the alternative video stores and the farmer's market. Even the drunken frat boys didn't bother me much--they seemed so good-natured, like they loved you, too. I loved voting for an NDP candidate in the provincial elections--and having him WIN. I liked riding my bike to school in the bike-only lanes. I liked your new radio station, for awhile.
I still love all those things, Edmonton, but recently I get the feeling you are trying to drive me away. Call me, OK? Don't let this be our last communication. We can talk this through. But you will have to change your behaviour. We can't have an adult relationship based on your misplaced desire to test me. Also, fix those stupid potholes. And maybe try to do something about all the stabbings.
Love,
Jocelyn
(PS. Yes, I did just write "the unpretentious prairies of my rosy childhood." That, as James would say, just happened.)
