Specifically, the drooling kid.
[Context: following moves aimed at other countries, the US has hit Canada with dumbfuck tariffs.]
Category: News
The roar of the Forth road bridge
Not three months ago we saw Frightened Rabbit play at the Mod Club, a tour to mark the tenth anniversary of their breakout album The Midnight Organ Fight. Lindsay had never seen them, and I hadn’t seen them in some nine years, since they toured the album originally. Despite a great show the obnoxious crowd prompted us to bugger off a bit early. I regret that now.
A few days ago, lead singer Scott Hutchinson (who’d struggled publicly with depression) went missing. His bandmates (and brother) asked for help finding him, but today a body found in the Firth of Forth was confirmed to be that of Hutchinson.
Since hearing the news I haven’t been able to shake loose from my head the lyrics of the penultimate song from Midnight Organ Fight, “Floating In The Forth”.
And I picture this corpse
On the M8 hearse
And I half run away to sleep
On a rolled up coat
Against the window
With the strobe of the sun
And the life I’ve led
Am I ready to leap
Is there peace beneath
The roar of the Forth road bridge?
On the Northern side
There’s a Fife of mine
And a boat in the port for me,And fully clothed, I float away
Down the Forth, into the sea
I’ll steer myself
Through drunken waves
These manic gulls
Scream it’s okay
Take your life
Give it a shake
Gather up
All your loose change
I think I’ll save suicide for another year.
I’m angry at the depression that took him. I’m sad that I’ll never see him perform again. I’m worried that the tour on which he sang this song each night resurrected old thoughts in his head. I’m gutted that no one could really do anything to help, even those who loved him. I wish this disease weren’t so insidious and invisible, famous or not.
Rest easy, Scott. It’s okay.
It’s okay.
Century since
My whole life I’ve been fascinated by disasters. Canadian disasters, specifically, probably because the Halifax Explosion was such a significant part of Nova Scotia lore. I’ve always been especially interested in the Frank Slide (which I hope to hear the Rural Alberta Advantage sing about tomorrow night), but most of my obsession over the years has been with the explosion. I still think of it every time I’m in the city, especially when I drive across either bridge or walk past City Hall.
Today is the 100th anniversary of the blast, the largest man-made explosion until Hiroshima and the biggest disaster in Canadian history. A century later Halifax still bears the scars. It ought to be remembered.
.:.
Cover photo from the Globe and Mail
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, AMERICA?!
Ostriching
A terror attack in Nice. A failed coup in Turkey. Murder, snipers, and racial unrest in the US. A murdered five-year-old in Calgary.
This isn’t my usual reaction, but I’m kind of shutting this stuff out. I know the world is getting less violent on the whole year after year, decade after decade, but that…that was a lot to take in a week or so. My brain’s just not having it. I know that’s a convenient reaction for someone out of harm’s way to have, but I don’t feel equipped to process it all properly this week. I’m just going to have a drink and hug the people I can.
Another
Paris. Istanbul. And now Brussels. Too many cities I’ve visited recently, and far too many in general, are suffering through terror attacks.
Tragic. Disgusting. Infuriating. And, hopefully, met only with resolution and solidarity.
Fraternité
BEST. NEWS. EVER.
From BlogTO: Smoking to be banned on patios in Toronto.
.:.
Cover photo by SuperFantastic, used under Creative Commons license
Barely
But still: no more Mayor Ford.
And yes, I’m conflating the two Ford brothers here, but hey…they gave themselves the name Ford Nation.
.:.
Cover photo by Gwydion M Williams, used under Creative Commons license
So sad.
From The Guardian: Oh l’amour: Paris bridge rail collapses under weight of too much love.
The path of true love for tourists in Paris has often involved a stroll across the Pont des Arts and the attachment of a “love lock” to its railings. The key is then thrown into the river Seine.
But the celebrated bridge had to be evacuated at the weekend after part of the railing collapsed under the weight of love locks attached to it.
Police ordered visitors to leave and closed the footbridge after a 2.4-metre section of railing broke loose.
I did a little Googling after reading this and found all these pictures of how the locks have infested the bridge, like some sort of trendy cancer. It’s awful. It was one of the prettiest things we saw in Paris on our first visit in 2007, just before all this lock silliness started.
But hey, why let a beautiful setting like that survive? Better to smother it with rusting, meaningless crap.
Get better soon, Paris.
.:.
Cover photo by Martyn Davis, used under Creative Commons license
Skirl | Dan Dickinson 