Thursday, February 12, 2004

I must offer an apology to the Haitian people. I have spent the past several weeks spewing my personal brand of vitriol versus the American president and neoconservative politics--a noble task, to be sure--but I've totally ignored the resistance movement going on in Haiti right now. Jean Bertrand Aristide, the dictatorial fiend and virtual ruler of the caribbean island, is laying waste to his own people every day and I haven't said a word.

At the risk of venturing into cliché, I feel that by not speaking out, I am implicit in the slaughter. Aristides thugs, known as "Chimeres" according to the Independent (UK), are roaming around beating any suspected demonstrators with baseball bats. The Haitian army is also involved in this horrid business and are wrestling with the rebels who control Gonaives, an important city of strategic value on the island, along with several other villages nearby.

The rebel cause is just and I sincerely hope that they succeed in overthrowing their corrupt government. Since Haiti isn't known for it's oil reserves, don't expect the Bush League to paradrop in and save the day. They will have to battle alone. If only there was a way to supply them with some sort of support. I'm sure they could use more arms, food, and fuel to continue in their noble uprising.

Let us all hope that they win the day and drive Aristide's régime back into the barbaric cave it crawled out of. And to all the other freedom fighters out there, good tidings upon you all. (I'm not referring to terrorists or anyone that seek to limit the freedom of humanity. When I say freedom fighters, I mean insurgents that are fighting for their liberty, not bullies that want to lock us all in cages or fly into our buildings.) 

This morning, I was sifting through a box of horded treasure. I'm not a pirate--it's not like I have crates of bullion stashed away--this box was just full of papers, physical records of my college years. Going through the poems and late-rent notices from my old residence, I felt the mainline thrill of nostalgia kicking in.

Halfway through the box, I found a folded old pamphlet printed in blue and white. It was printed by the Canadian government and I must have picked it up at some point when I was living in Gaspé City. It reads "Se préparer à l'entrevue" (translation: Preparing one's self for an interview). I haven't finished reading it yet but it is chock-full of tips to increase your chances of success with those friendly folks in H.R.

The reason this pamphlet could be my saving grace is because I have a job interview today @ 10:15 AM. It's for the National Bank of Canada, a monolith that gainfully employs over 17,000 of my fellow Canadians. Being one of the largest banks in Canada, getting fat and happy from all those $1 Interac fees and that legalized theft (usury, ie. interest), I'm sure that the NatBank will be able to pay me handsomely (assuming I actually get the job).

Dear reader, I'm sorry that I'm sleeping with the enemy (capitalists). Then again, Fidel Castro hasn't offered to put me through University and I'm not holding my breath. If I am to pay my outstanding debts in a timely fashion, I have to work somewhere. Not to place blame anywhere, but if you guys would just click that "Paypal Donate" button once in awhile, maybe I wouldn't have to resort to such vile tactics as working the phones for a bank.

Let's just agree to disagree. Or better yet, let me get this job and make some money so I can go back to Concordia in the Fall and make something of myself (Journalism or Political Science, depending on the sagacity of the Journ. dept.). Until then, I am your friend and compatriot in the battle versus gingivitis. (Vote NDP in 2004!)