Vancouver Part II

My recent post about the Vancouver Olympics has generated some great discussion and some interesting points of view. I’m all about discussion, debate and by no means do I think that my opinion is the only point of view. With that ethos in mind I thought I might share a few of those other opinions.

“As much as I freakin' LOVE the Winter Olympics, I gotta agree that VANOC has done very little to make me feel good about any of this. The dismantling of the mental health care system in BC has a lot to do with the problems on East Hastings, which is appalling to see first hand. Also appalling is the billions in cost overruns in the midst of already difficult times. I mean, Intrawest (owners of Whistler/Blackcomb) are teetering on the verge of bankruptcy/creditor protection. What's even more ridiculous is that pointing such things out brands you a terrorist in the eyes of VANOC security. I hate to say it, but I just wish it were somewhere else.”
--Chris Marchand (http://muskellunge.blogspot.com/)

Another rather strong opinion comes from the ever opinionated Matthew Good

http://www.youtube.com/user/Qtv#p/c/6AE847ACA8C5D941/179/YBdzgPtlBho (sorry they won't let me imbed it...)

What do you think?

***UPDATE***
Here are a few opinions that have come through via the Facebook page

"There has been a lot of things said about the Olympics that have turned me off of the protests against it. There is nothing that annoys me more than a bunch of middle class white kids running around saying "no Olympics on stolen Native land", when the local first nations tribes are involved in the Olympics and have been so since the initial bid. None of my First Nation friends have joined in on that rhetoric.

I also read articles comparing VANOC to Hitler. I can't get behind certain folks endless overuse, and misuse of the words "fascist" and "nazi". There was a great bit that The Daily Show did a few years ago which concluded that the minute you use the word "fascist", your argument loses all credibility. I can get behind that.

The problems in the Downtown Eastside are decades old and have absolutely nothing to do with the Olympics. VANOC didn't cut funding to the health care system. They have no authority over anything other than the Olympics. I'm no fool. I know that the Olympics hefty price tag has inevitably led to the cutting of funds to other projects, but they're not the cause of problems in Vancouver that have been around longer than most of us care to admit. Ever see the Henry Rollins interview where he talks about how Black Flag hated playing Vancouver cuz it was nothing but a bunch of drug addicts that would steal their gear? That's 25 years ago.

I just don't think anyone cares to see the big picture. Something does need to be done about the Downtown Eastside and a lot has been done in the last 10 years, but nothing is going to solve the problems faced by a community overrun with drug abuse overnight. No matter how much money is thrown at it. And good luck getting Coca-cola to sponsor that initiative.

Yes, the Olympics are a major expenditure for a one time event, but its not a one time event. The venues that are built will be used by athletes for training, for world cup events, and by locals who wish to learn and train for Olympic sports. We also received a new skytrain line, replaced a dumpy waterfront industrial area with an entire new community, and widened the highway up to Whistler, which I'm personally very thankful for after driving it every day in a 3 tonne truck in the rain."  
--Jeff Munt
 
"You cannot think that the 5 billion dollar deficit that the olympics will be leaving this province in will have little effect. as a nursing student, i have already seen the effect that this is having on our health care system, with nurses being layed off and LPN`s being put in their place....even in the OR`s of this province. it is frightening to think that if i require surgery i may no longer have highly specialized OR nurses, rather LPN`s in these positions.
 
I am also seeing the effect that this is having on our education system. millions of recent cuts to education, including hundreds of newly graduated teachers being layed off. mental health in most places is largely misunderstood, let alone managed in any worthy or healthy way, so i don`t expect the majority of people in this province to be anything more than blissfully and arrogantly ignorant of these challenges and while Vanoc didn`t cut funding to health care, i can think of many ways to spend this province`s citizens money.
 
Perhaps you are in a cushy, well preserved place in your life, and are not concerned with the well being of anyone other than yourself for the time being, but heaven forbid you get in a motor vehicle accident and have a head injury......i don`t hate feats of athletic prowess or big happy groups of festive people, however, i do think we will definitely be in a terrible position in this province once this brief display of lavishness is over and the budget is finally made public"
--Fiona Wheeler

Vancouver

In a little over a week the Winter Olympics are going to kick off in Vancouver, BC, Canada. Depending on your political persuasion, your social activist penchant or your desire to watch curling on television this event is either a source of excitement or rage. Rage? Really the Olympics conjuring rage in everyday average folks? Yup – if you talk to certain members of the population the mere thought of the Olympics is enough to throw them into a expletive doused tirade that would make a sailor blush.

So what’s the fuss all about?

Nothing in life is straightforward – least of all an event as large as the Winter Olympics. Vancouver, the Provence of British Columbia and the government of Canada (by this I of course mean tax-payers) have all opened their wallets to the tune of billions (yes the b words) to finance the cost of the games. The argument is that this money could be better spent on social programs and that staging an event such as this is at it’s best vanity and at worst a colossal waste of cash.

On the east side of Vancouver sits a neighbourhood called East Hastings. Hastings is one of the worst neighbourhoods in North America. By worst I’m referring to the fact that it has the highest AIDS rate per capita then anywhere on the continent, the crime-rate is the highest of any place in Canada, the average income is the lowest in Canada and the list of other social problems and economic disparity is as long as your arm. The argument is that the money spent on the games could have been better spent on cleaning up this area of town.

Two years ago during the Beijing Olympics, all of the ‘undesirable’ folks (the drug addicts, the beggars, the homeless and so on) were rounded up and shipped out of town to whitewash the problems from the attention of the world. In Vancouver, there isn’t a plan to ship anybody out of town, but there most certainly is a plan to shield the public from seeing the not-so-nice side of the city. When Olympic officials came to Van to give the city the final once-over they were consistently routed around the troubled areas and it was kept most definitely on the down-low.

You can see the arguments that perhaps the dollars spent on luge tracks and giant torches could have been better spent on these people who really do need a hand. I agree – ending poverty, building habitable housing for the unfortunate and providing adequate healthcare for the masses is a cause that goes beyond nobility. But here is the real question – the tough one.

What makes you think that if the Olympics weren’t being held in Vancouver that the government would be doing anything about these problems? The issues in East Hastings have been around for at least 20 years and nothing has been done about it. Status-quo is a hard thing to fight – no matter how apt, noble or universal the desire for change.

There are always better things to spend money on. I make my living writing about travel, adventure and art – these are all things that are surplus to need in almost every way. From a pragmatic point of view the world would be a better place if we spent our surplus funds on charity. But that’s not the reality. I can’t very well condemn the Olympics and then remind people to buy a copy of the travel guide to Hawaii that I wrote. So what do I think is the right thing to do?

In many way’s I’m an idealist – I see the Olympic spirit as one of the last bastions of peace through sport and play. If we remove the Olympics what do we have left? Let the Olympics come to Vancouver BUT don’t let the Olympics blot out the problems that the city has (and so many other cities around the world). The media of the world is there – point them in the direction of what they should see. When else will the eyes of the world be so solely focussed on Vancouver for such an extended period of time? If there were no Olympics nothing would have changed for the underprivileged and there would be zero media coverage of any of these issues.

In judo they talk about using the energy of your opponent and re-directing it back against them. For those that don’t see the same opportunity here, you’ve lost sight of the opportunity of a lifetime.

Festival Highlights

Today is the last day of the New Zealand Mountain Film Festival and I wanted to share some of my highlights. There have been over 60 films over the last 5 days and there have been some great films. The only criteria for consideration is that the film has to deal in some way with outdoors – so there have been movies about climbing, skiing, surfing, mountain biking, paragliding, environmental issues and epic journeys. Most films fall into two distinct categories – they are either thinkers or stokers. Thinkers cause one to take pause and look at our world a little closer, bringing up outdoor issues that perhaps have been overlooked. Stokers are all about getting you psyched to get climbing, skiing, surfing or biking. Fast paced action by the best athletes in the world. This year there were awesome examples in both camps – here are my picks:

Thinkers:
Sharkwater – as a surfer I’ve always been a little afraid of sharks – not anymore. This fascinating film is all about the misunderstood animal that is at the heart of most of our ocean fears. This year toppling Coke machines will kill more people then sharks. What’s more, sharks are being wiped out for their fins. Shark fin soup is a delicacy in Asia and they are killing thousands of sharks every day. This film was so powerful that within hours of its showing at the festival, there was a petition going around to urge the New Zealand government to ban shark fining.



Saving Luna – what happens when an animal decided that it wants to be friends with humans? Do we ignore it for its own sake? Or do we take the amazing opportunity to connect with another species. Forget what you think you know about whales, what you think is best for animals and witness the complexities of walking the walk.



Solo – In 2007 Andrew McAuley planned a kayak trip like no other. His plan was to paddle from Australia to New Zealand through the treacherous Southern Ocean. This 1600km stretch of ocean is some of the most unforgiving stretch of water in the world – howling gales, 10m waves and unrelenting wind. This film is more then a story of adventure, this is the story of the effect of adventure. What is the consequence when everything goes desperately wrong… really chilling stuff this one. I left the theater shattered.



Stokers:
The Sharp End – this awesome climbing flick is all about the best in the world pushing the limits in the boldest of style. Amazing free solos, base soloing (that’s free soloing with a parachute on your back!), sketchy leads on scary gear and heaps more. The footage is awesome and the climbing is way ahead of its time.



Grit Kids – two teenage siblings from the UK who don’t just go climbing, they climb ‘death routes’ – these are incredibly hard and extremely dangerous climbs where a fall could mean death. When I was 17 I was just trying to climb 5.10 – these kids are climbing 5.13c R X… inspirational and scary….



Hope you enjoyed the mini festival – try and track down these full length movies, they’re well worth it.

Oprah, KFC and me...

Ok it’s no secret I have a soft spot for KFC. Yes I know the wonderful irony that I am a vegetarian, but on occasion I eat KFC. Long ago I decided to eat the chicken of doom in every country that I visit, or at least every country that has a franchise. Perhaps it all stems from a very funny question a friend asked me years ago, “What do you call a vegetarian that eats chicken?” I thought it was the start of a joke, but it turns out she was honestly curious. I was dumbstruck and had nothing to offer.

I’ve been a veggie for years for a variety of reasons – heath and land-use ethics are the main ones – but another reason is discipline. I like the idea of facing a craving every day and saying no, not because of an ideological subscription, but by a conscious choice I make every day. To me this is a very powerful decision to make - a much harder one than simply saying that, 'I’m not allowed' and turning away. I say no to KFC (most of the time) because I choose not to and for no other reason.

So why am I babbling about KFC today? Well Oprah, yes that Oprah (she’s so entrenched into the cultural zeitgeist that ‘Oprah’ is pre-loaded into the Word spell-check – with Obama, iPod, and Facebook all getting the underline treatment) has decided to give everyone in America a meal at KFC. Go to her website and print out a coupon for a free meal at the grease pit. Apparently it is to promote some sort of healthy meal they are introducing.

What the fuck?

You don’t have to be a nutritionist to know that smelling KFC let alone eating it will take tangible amounts of time off your life expectancy. And not only is the most influential woman in America, no, the World saying it’s ok to eat it, she’s giving the shit away? I say again, what the fuck is up with that? I could go on for hours on the inevitable corporate kickbacks and dietary ramifications of such a credible celebrity (sorry does that sound like an oxy-moron to anyone else?) endorsing what is likely the most unhealthy meal on the planet but I’ll save you from that. I guess it’s just another strange turn of events in an already strange world…

I am still waiting for my free Dr. Pepper because Chinese Democracy hit the shelves before China became a democratic nation…

For more on my history with KFC click HERE. For more on celebrities selling out to fast food click HERE.

Mountain Bike Trail Ethics

As a mountain biker and an environmentalist I walk a thin ethical line. As a card carrying tree-hugger I fight wilderness destruction, despise deforestation and deplore those that abuse the natural world for their own gain. But as a mountain biker, I love to ride trails deep into the mountains. Though minimal, those same mountain bike trails are a form of development. They bring people into the backcountry and by the human presence cause an affect on the natural landscape. While it is easy for a non biker or a non hiker to cast all trail builders with the same destructive view – but as an enthusiast, it’s not that easy. I’ve built trails, I’ve bolted sport climbs, I’ve signed petitions to halt logging and I’ve voted for the environment in the polling booth. I’m Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde all at once.

So how do I sleep at night? I guess I look at it in a purely mathematical way. I do more good then harm. I encourage others to get into the wilderness with the hope that they will gain an appreciation of it and stand firm to protect it. It’s a compromise a tradeoff that I can live with – but it is a decision worth re-evaluating from time to time. The genesis of this blog comes from this trailer I came across today – this looks like a really interesting mountain bike film – beyond the usual Red Bull shotgunning and overuse of the words; dude, rad, sick and other colloquial jibes that do little to convince the viewer that these riders have in fact graduated from primary school. Have a look, have a think and enjoy.



If you can’t see the video, click HERE to go straight to the source.

Book ‘em Dog.PI

It’s an interesting gauge of the arc of modern culture and pop culture to look back at the last 40 years or so of Hawaiian cop drama on TV. It’s kinda cool that the iconic cops and robbers shows from the 60’s, 80’s and the 00’s were all set in Hawaii. Three very different worlds, that’s for sure – have a look at these clips and see just how much the world has changed in the last four decades. And hey, just try and get these theme songs out of your head!
Aloha!

Shock and Awe

There are two sides to Oahu, well many more then two, but two big ones come to mind. The North Shore is home to big waves, little towns and a distinctly bohemian outlook on life. Go a few miles south, into the vast interior of the island and everything is, so, so different. This area is home to a chain of military bases – nearly all branches of the armed forces are represented and sit in blinding contrast to the hippies to the north. Somewhere in the pineapple fields that separate these two distinct cultures is a very deep line in the sand. The North Shore has an uber-laid-back feel with a definite no shirt, no shoes, no problem policy. In the interior the army base town of Wahiawa is anything but bohemian. With literally thousands of solders living within a couple miles of the town, there is a not-so-subtle Palin-Power undertone to the community.

It’s rare that I visit a town and am left with only sadness as I leave. More churches, strip-clubs, liquor stores, fast-food joints and homeless people wearing desert pattern fatigues then I’d ever seen - anywhere. It was a sad example of what this country has done to its military men and women. The war in Iraq and to a lesser extent in Afghanistan were both ill advised in my opinion and massively unpopular in nearly everyone else’s opinion. But to have these brave men and women who’ve done nothing but join the military for the love of their country and a desire to get out of poverty, be forced to live in a states-side shithole like this, just isn’t right. Maybe it’s the chicken vs. the egg – maybe these guys really just want to have a lap-dance and a Taco-Bell on their day off. Maybe they want to get drunk, repent their sins and forget their reality. But what a strange world it is – this forgotten existence of young men and women who live just 7 miles from paradise in a house filled with excess, irresponsibility, debauchery and hopelessness.

The other side to change

There is little doubt; it has been a momentous week in the political world. The election of Mr. Obama in the United States has been a huge shift to the ideological left. One could argue that this was a conscious decision, to move away from the much maligned Bush doctrine. You could also say that the nation was yearning for a change and a fresh face, that didn’t fit the Bush mold would have won with nearly any policy promises. I believe that it is an admirable combination of both of these two factors that decided the course of the election. While there was a strong desire to vote for anything not Bush, the underlying desire to move the political landscape leftward prevailed.

Now what I want to talk about is the other side of change – in New Zealand we just had our federal election, only a couple days after the US version. Our Prime Minister, Helen Clark has been the PM for 9 years. She’s done a good job for the most part. She’s a left of center Labor Party leader who’s struck a balance between social needs and financial gains. But for the last few years the writing has been on the wall – NZ was looking for a fresh face. It was the current financial meltdown that sealed her fate.

As election day drew closer the leader of the National Party, John Key took the lead and never looked back. He campaigned on the same platform as Obama – the desire for change. But here is where things are a bit different. Obama was talking about a change to the left, Key a change to the right. Key cashed in on the groundswell of support that Obama had generated and convinced the New Zealand public that it was the exact same situation as in America and a vote for him was a vote in the right direction – no pun intended.

Obama was the antidote to the mess that Bush created. Helen Clark was not George W. Bush. But this desire for a fresh face has netted a result that is very different to that of the states. The change that will occur here will be fewer taxes for the rich, reduced social programs and funding for the arts. Tighter reins on immigration and a more aggressive foreign policy (Key supported sending troops to Iraq).

Don’t fear change – but change for the sake of it is just as dangerous is being perpetually content with the status quo.

sk

The Audacity of Hope

Some years ago when I was in art school studying photography I was lucky enough to have a very charismatic lecturer that really left an impression. He was early 40’s and had that sort of Robert Redford, too-much-time-in-the-sun, creased face and a mob of ginger hair. He walked around with a worldly swagger, like someone who’d seen it all before. His one lasting quote was regarding stock photography, “editors have seen a million photos of the Eiffel Tower – but they haven’t seen mine.” Some of my fellow classmates took this as pure ego and blew it off as the ramblings of an over-praised photographic-savant who’d Od’d on his own Kool-Aid long ago. I saw it a bit different. We all have our own opinions and impressions – even the obvious is open to interpretation.

Last night as I sat in front of my television for hours and hours on end watching election results – I thought of the Eiffel Tower.

To try and surmise the gravitas of the Obama win in the election is like trying to explain water to the thirsty or food to the starving. This goes beyond what we needed and reaches further into a more primal elemental sector of our collective consciousness. This is the antidote to a poison that has been working its way through our body. Killing us from the inside, spreading like a cancer, threatening the very existence of our society. Am I overstating it? I don’t think so. America was a train wreck in slow motion – it was like watching a good friend destroy themselves. It needed an intervention and that’s what it got.

But this wasn’t a fire and brimstone, shape up or ship out sort of reaffirmation. No, it was a loving embrace that promised nothing but potential. For a long time America lost its way. The quest of the American dream was so badly off course that it looked for a time that salvation was too far away to ever be a reality. That was until Barack Obama arrived on the scene. America was built upon a foundation of eternal optimism, the notion that dreams can come true. For too long those dreams had turned into nightmares – but now because of the notion of hope and the resurrection of that most American of dreams, the ship is finally heading back onto its intended course.

Yesterday the generation that has no heroes stood up and chose a new direction for America. They chose to elect an African American man to the most powerful position in the world. This fact should not be glossed over – only half a century ago, a black man was not even allowed to ride at the front of a bus in America, drink out of the same fountain or attend some universities – now a black man is president. For a nation to look beyond race with a history of such painful race relations is a true sign that things are finally moving on.

Obama has been accused of being a political lightweight and merely a good orator. I think that is just what America needs – inspiration. Will Obama be a good president? I don’t know. Will he be better then Bush? Of course he will, fuck even Palin would be better then Bush. What I am so enamoured with, what the whole world is enamoured with is the excitement, the energy and the hope that this man has fostered. It is a dark time in the world – economics are looking worse then ever, there is much war, poverty and threats to the environment. Solving these problems will take effort and sacrifice – finally we (lets be honest, no matter where you live in the world, ’we’ is appropriate) have a leader that will lead us through the dark and into the light.

As a kid I remember asking my father what it was like to hear JFK speak – I know now my kids will ask me the same thing, but they won’t be speaking of a long dead president. They’ll be talking about President Barack Obama.

-sk

The New Chapter

It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get to where we are today, but we have just begun. Today we begin in earnest the work of making sure that the world we leave our children is just a little bit better than the one we inhabit today.

-Barack Obama

Dr. Gonzo we need your help

The other day I was lucky enough to see a film in the Queenstown film festival that really struck a chord. Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0479468/) is as you’d guess the story of Hunter S Thompson. He’s the infamous writer of books like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, countless Rolling Stone articles and other works of literary note. Many people assume that his writing is just the drug addled musings of a post-bohemian madman who’d done too much acid back in the day. Knocked out on pills and dancing to warped Grace Slick records, musing about the good old days when the sex was dirty and the water was clean. This veneer of debauchery distracts from the fact that Dr. Gonzo was in fact an exceptional writer.

Hunter wrote with an emotionally evocative power that was keyed into the time and rendered immortal. He was able to crystallize an era of our time that was so hard to define in traditional terms. You compare the writings of the day, Norman Mailer, Thom Wolfe they all fall flat with the dull thud of a past generation. Hunter was able to conceptualize the mad times of the 60’s into a narrative that described it in all of its non-linear beauty. But Hunter was more then this; he was also a damn good reporter. He followed politics with the fervour of a dumb-struck rabid dog. He got amongst the establishment and ripped it apart form the inside – and he ushered us all in.

In 2005 Hunter blew his brains out with a .45cal revolver – exactly as he promised to do for the quarter century leading up to his death. Better to burn out then to fade away? Hunter had lost his edge, if only in his own mind. But what a pity, couldn’t we have used him now. What would Hunter have said had he been imbedded into McCain’s campaign? What would his dispatches have described? One can only wonder and long of the musings that never came to pass. All we are left with is the words and the influence of a writer who went beyond his station and spoke from his heart with honesty, flair and the rye grin of wordsmith at the top of his game.

“There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . . And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . . So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.”
-Hunter S Thompson form Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Good Looking Celebrity People Saying Swear Words

Do we need yet another reminder to vote? Yes, New Zealand and America I’m talking to you. A swift kick in the ass is never a bad thing when the timing is right – and that time is now. So even if there is a sense of complacency rolling in, remember you need to vote. We all have opinions of which way we want these elections to go – but unless you actually put pen to paper on the day then your opinion is absolutely useless.

But don’t take my word for it – have a look at this vid where the fat kid from Superbad reminds us of our right to lose the war on drugs while playing Halo and Sarah Silverman takes her bra off… man I love politics…

You can't be neutral on a moving train

Every Friday I have lunch with a few fellow Queenstown fella’s – we call it boys lunch, we sit around for a couple of hours, eat a good meal and solve the problems of the world. You’d think that with a moniker like boys lunch the discussion would revolve around rugby, tits and ass – but I guess we aren’t the usual sort of boys. Politics is the chat de-jour and it’s election season – everywhere. There’s the one that everyone knows about – in the good old U, S and A. but don’t forget that in both Canada and New Zealand are about to hit the poles and elect or maybe re-elect a Prime Minister. The interesting discussion often revolves around the concept that although these elections are in different parts of the world, the issues that are at the heart are the same. As we eat and talk we shake our heads like old men unable to comprehend why the world doesn’t see it our way. It shouldn’t be this hard, but why is it?

When you look at the issues – the environment, the economy, health care, and education – you’d think we’d all want the same thing. At least our Friday lunch group is in agreement – but maybe that’s because we are all a bunch of artsy-fartsy-fucking-liberals. Label me if you want – that’s a label I’ll take any day. Much to my amazement, there are many out there that don’t share this point of view. Some think we should all fend for ourselves – that the environment can take care of itself and climate change is a fraud. Social safety nets are for the weak and the chaff that doesn’t cut it should be scattered to the wind. Only the strong survive and the weak of the heard get picked off by the lions of poverty, hopelessness and war.

How is this idea even possible? How is it that we can look at our fellow man with such disconnection that we’d even fathom such moral atrocities. The more I’ve travelled the more I’ve come to realize that people from around the world are not the vastly different cultures we’ve be bred to think. We all have the same base ambitions – we want a place to live, a safe environment for our families, food to eat, clean water to drink and the opportunity to be happy. Why is it that in western culture we have the ambition to get away from those base needs and swim into the murky waters that are governed by monetary ambition and greed? I’m not indorsing the notion of communism, nor the ideal of socialism – what I am hopeful for is a global re-emergence of a sense of family. A family that looks at everyone as a brother, a sister or a cousin. In the world today what we do locally has an impact across the globe – we have power, like never before. As a society we have the ability to take the power back, just by making choices – we can drink fair trade coffee and change the lived of African workers. We can eat free-range eggs and change the way chickens are raised – Jamie Oliver, a fucking-celebrity-chef is changing the way the UK eats chicken, just by showing how battery farms work on his TV show. We can eat organic vegetables and drive the prices down to the point where they are affordable to all. There is squandered power in our numbers.

We need to seriously look at what we are doing to this planet and collectively start to give a shit. Granted we’ve come a long, long way. Even looking back to the pre-Inconvenient Truth era and there is an ocean of improvement. People are thinking about issues like recycling, alternative energy and climate change. We need to look at these issues in terms of how they can benefit our economy – not hinder it. By putting money into research and development alternative energy technology can be found and a solution to climate change can be gleamed and profit can be the result too. We’ve done so much to get the momentum changed and get the ball rolling. We can’t let it stop now – it’s to the point where if we keep the pressure on, we can win this fight.

There is no denying that the global economy is getting the shit kicked out of it. I won’t dare make light of that – innocent, everyday folks are going to lose money. Except for the everyday folks who are CEO’s of major corporations – they’ll be fine. In fact if the right-wing parties are elected in said elections, these well-off citizens could see a healthy lowering of their taxes. The National Party in New Zealand (the official opposition at the moment, and looking poised to win this election) is promising to lower taxes across the board. Hey, who doesn’t want to pay less tax? The problem is that the government is pretty much running just above water at the moment – meaning that to lower taxes, social programs will have to be cut. Perhaps it’s the Canadian socialist in me – but I’d rather pay a little more tax and have things like, oh I don’t know – a hospital, a school, how about a nicely paved road. I think all that is worth twenty bucks a week.

The biggest choice we can make is in the voting booth. Canada that means you tomorrow – America next month and NZ a couple days before. We can change the system – we can take the power away from the fat-cats who turn their backs on the environment, the middle class and the next generation. I believe in the ties that bind us together, the band of brotherhood of decency that we all share. I believe that we won’t leave people behind not just in far off corners of the globe but from the streets in our own cities. We can choose to make more money and leave the less fortunate behind – or we can choose to change the system to a mechanism that cares. A system that doesn’t fast-track the road to war and refuse to fight for the environment.

Of course, like my Friday boys lunch – I could very well be preaching to the choir. You could all agree with me, nod your head and move on – but that’s not good enough, not any more. Today you have a homework assignment. We all have friends that don’t necessarily share our political points of view; we need to talk to these people – tell them our points of view, tell them what matters to us in the world today. We need to convince them that this isn’t a lost cause, that the environment, the poor and the disenfranchised are worth saving. We can draw a line in the sand and say no more, not on my watch. Hope will guide us through, hope in what our countries can become, because without hope, we have nothing worth fighting or voting for.

Rise. Life is in motion. I'm stuck in line.

Rise. You can't be neutral on a moving train.

And if hope could grow from dirt like me. It can be done.

Won't let the light escape from me.

Won't let the darkness swallow me.

This is our chance to make a difference – I for one am not going to sit back and let opportunity pass me by.
Scott Kennedy
October 13, 2008

Guest Blogger – Bruce Springsteen!

Ok so Bruce and I couldn’t get our shit together and decide on a day for him to take the reins of the Adventureskope Blog and in the end I thought it was easier just to pass on a speech that he made at an Obama rally in Philadelphia. Actually I don’t personally know Bruce – I have however grown a soul patch in the past and I do own a white t-shirt and a red baseball cap. Kidding aside I’m passing on this speech today because ‘The Boss’ has really hit this one out of the park – he’s captured the feelings that are palpable around the globe. It’s time for a change, but not just a change in America – the American dream and all its incarnations around the globe need a fresh start…

Bruce Springsteen’s Speech:

“Hello Philly,

“I am glad to be here today for this voter registration drive and for Barack Obama, the next President of the United States. I’ve spent 35 years writing about America, its people, and the meaning of the American Promise. The Promise that was handed down to us, right here in this city from our founding fathers, with one instruction: Do your best to make these things real. Opportunity, equality, social and economic justice, a fair shake for all of our citizens, the American idea, as a positive influence, around the world for a more just and peaceful existence. These are the things that give our lives hope, shape, and meaning. They are the ties that bind us together and give us faith in our contract with one another.

“I’ve spent most of my creative life measuring the distance between that American promise and American reality. For many Americans, who are today losing their jobs, their homes, seeing their retirement funds disappear, who have no healthcare, or who have been abandoned in our inner cities. The distance between that promise and that reality has never been greater or more painful.

“I believe Senator Obama has taken the measure of that distance in his own life and in his work. I believe he understands, in his heart, the cost of that distance, in blood and suffering, in the lives of everyday Americans. I believe as president, he would work to restore that promise to so many of our fellow citizens who have justifiably lost faith in its meaning. After the disastrous administration of the past 8 years, we need someone to lead us in an American reclamation project. In my job, I travel the world, and occasionally play big stadiums, just like Senator Obama. I’ve continued to find, wherever I go, America remains a repository of people’s hopes, possibilities, and desires, and that despite the terrible erosion to our standing around the world, accomplished by our recent administration, we remain, for many, a house of dreams. One thousand George Bushes and one thousand Dick Cheneys will never be able to tear that house down.

“They will, however, be leaving office, dropping the national tragedies of Katrina, Iraq, and our financial crisis in our laps. Our sacred house of dreams has been abused, looted, and left in a terrible state of disrepair. It needs care; it needs saving, it needs defending against those who would sell it down the river for power or a quick buck. It needs strong arms, hearts, and minds. It needs someone with Senator Obama’s understanding, temperateness, deliberativeness, maturity, compassion, toughness, and faith, to help us rebuild our house once again. But most importantly, it needs us. You and me. To build that house with the generosity that is at the heart of the American spirit. A house that is truer and big enough to contain the hopes and dreams of all of our fellow citizens. That is where our future lies. We will rise or fall as a people by our ability to accomplish this task. Now I don’t know about you, but I want that dream back, I want my America back, I want my country back.

“So now is the time to stand with Barack Obama and Joe Biden, roll up our sleeves, and come on up for the rising.”

The Expatriate Act

According to Wikipedia (1 million opinions can’t be wrong!) An expatriate (in abbreviated form, expat) is a person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing or legal residence. The word comes from the Latin ex (out of) and patria (country, fatherland). I’m most definitely in that group. I was born in Canada but for the last six years I’ve lived in New Zealand. I don’t even contemplate it much these days, but every now and again it hits me that I’m living miles from where I stared my life.

This realization usually comes about when I see something Canadian on the news. Last night it was a delightful little story about how Canadian PM Stephen Harper directly quoted a parliamentary address by the then Australian PM John Howard – a mere 48hrs after Howard made the original speech. You’d think he’d have his own opinions, especially seeing as the speech was an attempt to urge the Canadian parliament to join the US in the war in Iraq! This blog posting isn’t about the trifecta of village idiots (Bush, Howard and Harper) it’s actually more about the reality of living overseas from your home and native land, as the song goes.

More often then not, the bits and pieces we see in the media about Canada are stories like what came out yesterday (the news graphic they used was quite amusing and a little embarrassing – a kangaroo with moose horns attached – as soon as I saw that I knew I was in for trouble). The other stories that tend to get traction are large hockey fights, snowstorms that shut down cities and fluff pieces to end the newscast – things like clubbing baby seals.

But what’s it really like to be an expat? Here in Queenstown we have quite a large non-kiwi sect of the population and the results are very interesting. I think it’s the distance makes the heart grow fonder factor – this town is full of very patriotic folks. Take my usual Wednesday night activity – I play ice hockey down at the local rink. As a kid I played hockey in Canada (we all do) but by the time I was 18 I’d moved onto other things. But take me out of Canada and my desire to get on the ice intensifies to a fever pitch and all of a sudden I can’t get enough of it. And I’m not alone – I play hockey with players from all over the place – Canadians, Americans, Czechs, Sweed’s, the odd Australian, Pomms, and even some Kiwi’s.

Maybe it’s like living near an airport – at first the planes keep you up all night; but move away and you need those planes. There's a fabric that knits into the identity that is my heritage – that garment is a patchwork of hockey games, roller r’s, snow days, hearing The Hip on the radio and poutine on the menu. Maybe it takes leaving to appreciate what is really important – and maybe what’s really important aren’t the big ticket items you expect them to be. Maybe what makes up your identity are a thousand little things that on their own seem almost silly. Flickers of memories and a self imposed perception of what we’re supposed to do. Is it odd to feel more Canadian then ever living 13,000km from the town I grew up in?

Years ago I had a Canadian flag stitched to my backpack – it’s a badge of honour for Canucks overseas. It’s not there anymore – I don’t need it. My Canadian flag is stitched to my soul.

sk

Obligatory Sarah Palin Blog

Under the category of everybody else is doing it… here are my two cents on the potential Vice President of the United States. You don’t have to look too hard on the web these days to see a viral onslaught of opinion regarding this Alaskan politician. Does the devil wear Patagonia? Is she really the anti-Christ that she is made out to be? Well who knows really – but here are a few interesting tidbits that have come to light over the past few day.

She’s all about traditional family values and her 17-year-old daughter is pregnant to a boyfriend who is a self described redneck. She is strictly pro-life and created a policy in Alaska where victims of rape have to pay for their own rape-kit once they are in hospital (that could be perhaps the most un-feminist policy in the history of American politics). When elected Mayor of her little northern town she asked the Librarian of her town library what the procedure would be to get ‘certain’ books banned. And then there is of course the, “I see Russia!!” foreign policy experience, where she lists being able to see Russia from here home as a feather in her international relations cap. Perhaps I should be the ambassador to Thailand; I did have a mean pad-thai for dinner last night.

Say what you want about these things but there perhaps even scarier forces at work here. John McCain has campaigned on the fact that he is a political maverick and that he does what he wants not what his party tells him to. But his decision of running mate doesn’t harken to individuality it reeks of desperation. In an attempt to woo disenfranchised Hillary supporters who were unwilling to jump on the Obama bandwagon he’s wheeled out little miss NRA. Rather then creating a platform based upon the future, he’s banked on doing what he can to win the election and then let the rest sort itself out. He chosen a woman to run along side of him to attempt to entice female voters, unfortunately the woman he chose is not only woefully inexperienced but an ideological dinosaur when it comes to woman’s issues. But that being said, McCain is comfortable with dinosaurs – he is the only person alive to remember what they actually looked like.

If McCain wins he will be older the Regan – people that old shouldn’t be allowed to run the TV remote and this guy wants to be in charge of the most powerful nation on earth? Add to that this increasing rhetoric about Russia and its invasion of Georgia. Palin alluded to the need for the US to take pre-emptive action against Russia because they are a threat to the US. What the fuck? Are we going back to the cold war all of a sudden? Is it because Iraq is going so well we better get another war in the pipeline?

Speaking of pipelines – Palins solution to the US dependency on foreign oil? Drill the shit out of the Alaskan wilderness and then build a pipeline through, THROUGH! Canada! Please make the bad woman stop! Here crazy talk is hurting my ears!

I’m not an American, I don’t live in the states – but like everyone in the world the decisions that are made there affect me and affect us all. Come November I hope all those who have the opportunity to cast their vote don’t squander that chance. Vote for all of us who can’t vote, vote for change and a move in a direction that reflects the potential of what the American dream once was.

SK

The Art of War

40 years ago the Vietnam war was in full swing and the world was in turmoil. This tumultuous time nearly tore the social fabric of the world to bits. The cold war was in full swing and the anti-war movement was a societal force to be reckoned with. Sounds eerily familiar doesn’t it? Fast-forward to today and the similarities are stunning. Where the cold war has been replaced with terrorism and long haired hippies have been recast as red bull swilling cyberpunks who protest via facebook petition and wrists loaded with plastic (irony) bands. While the comparative effectiveness of dope smoking hippies to bringing about the end of the Vietnam war verses social networkers and pseudo-political rent-a-crowds is endlessly debateable and not the purpose of this posting…

While my personal political ideology on the issue is somewhat beside the point, it is fair to say that I agree with all of the forthcoming opinions that I’ll bring forth in this posting. Actually the way that I get motivated to exercise now is to watch clips of Bill O’Reilly on You Tube – by the end of the interview I’m so filled with rage that I’m predisposed to working myself to near death to get the hate from my lungs…

What this post is about, isn’t about ending a war, electing a government that will actually make a difference or learning to face fear and shrink it into its place. This post is about art. The art that comes from war. Like in the 60’s we are in a golden age of protest art. While the Clinton era was a sort of utopian dreamland (except if you lived in say Bosnia, Somalia or Central America) the art that the era produced was equally fucking awful. I could pull you tube clips of MC Hammer but just the thought makes me throw up in my mouth a bit .

Art comes from pain. And it’s a pretty fucking painful time in the world at the moment. But through that pain there is some amazing artistry coming to the fore; artists are doing what humanity does best - making the best out of a bad situation.

Here are a few pieces that will make you think, maybe tap your toe, and maybe piss you off. Maybe you’ll stand up and get out on the street and yell and scream and knock on doors and maybe you’ll decide to vote – both NZ and the US get to do that this year – so don’t forget!

Eddie Vedder performing No More a song about a US soldier who was shot in the back in Iraq to come home to nothing…

Ani Difranco – telling it like it is – as always…



Here is a link to a piece that I wrote a couple years ago that still rings painfully true…. http://www.adventureskope.com/documents/fundimentalism.pdf

In my heart I know you didn't come here just for me, you came here because you believe in what this country can be. In the face of war, you believe there can be peace. In the face of despair, you believe there can be hope. In the face of a politics that's shut you out, that's told you to settle, that's divided us for too long, you believe we can be one people, reaching for what's possible, building that more perfect union.

--Barack Obama

-peace-
SK

Dried Pig Intestine, Raw Horse Sashimi and the Best Sushi You’ve Ever Had.

Eating in Japan is more to write home about them most destinations. It’s one of those journey defining experiences that will resonate for years to come. There’s the weird, the wonderful, the delicious and the downright wrong – all served with a bow. Japanese food has become the fodder of mini-malls and primary school lunches over the past few years. You can get ho-hum sushi from Albuquerque to Zurich, but you really haven’t experienced proper sushi until you consume it at the source.

Sushi starts its journey to your table at the Tokyo Fish Market. In the way too early hours of the morning the market kicks off with literally hundreds of stalls selling every conceivable (and some not quiet so appealing) creature from the depths. Wandering around blurry eyed at 6am it’s a kinetic mix of wholesalers, restaurateurs and thousands of fish. Twisting passageways snake through the dawn-lit warehouse. Stacks of ice filled boxes overflowing with fish caught the day previous form a ramshackle town grid. Flamboyant haggling over the price of salmon, eel and most notably tuna fills the air. The mix of acrid stale cigarette smoke and rotting fish hangs in my nose as I try to keep my feet dry amongst the puddles nesting in the dips of the cobblestone. Tuna the size of beef hind quarters are dragged in and brought to the stalls to be filleted. Like a samurai, the fish monger produces a knife that look more like a sword then a kitchen utensil. It takes 3 people to hold the carcass steady as the razor sharp 4 foot blade slices through the 200kg tuna.



Getting lost amongst the rows the stalls begin to run together, the same wares arranged in the same ways it’s a wonder how a chef would choose the correct one. Until another nameless corner produces a different looking stall. Well lit, larger and sparsely populated with fish. Only a few massive pieces of meat sit on the crushed ice. Cuts the size of a Christmas hams are displayed with pride. But this was no fish; this stall sold the only mammal in the whole market. The gentle giant of the sea – yes, they were selling whale meat. It was shocking and sad to see – I was expecting to find it somewhere in the market, but I expected it to be hidden away in a corner with a black-market aroma to the dealings. But this was front row center, complete with a cartoon whale on the sign and a poster indicating which species were on offer. They were selling this protected species with panache, pride and the stench of smugness. For years Japan has been whaling for what it calls, “scientific research purposes.” Well I’ve seen it with my own eyes and that claim of science is utter bullshit. This whale meat was bound for a Tokyo restaurant table and any claims of research, science or the betterment of man are as believable as the tooth fairy. Though I thoroughly loved my time in Japan, just the sight of whale up for sale was deplorable, enraging and sickening.


Beyond the ethical bombshells the market was a fascinating way to start the day. It makes dinner a whole lot more interesting when you saw the fish you’re eating that morning on ice. And what meals they were – I was lucky enough to have a few unbelievable eating experiences in Tokyo. My good friend Matt Firestone lives in Tokyo and was kind enough to show me the ropes during my visit. Matt is legend, a grad of Harvard & Cambridge he now writes for Lonely Planet. When he’s not jetting off to Jordan or the Congo to write he calls Tokyo home – a New Jersey boy by birth he’s lived in the land of the rising sun for 6 years. He speaks the language, knows the culture and has a real passion for the place. You couldn’t ask for a better guide. With Matt I went to one of the best sushi restaurants in town (and in Tokyo, that’s saying al lot!). We dined on the most delicate (raw) fish, cut with precision right in front of us. It was divine and one of the best dining experiences of my life – and I’ve eaten a lot of meals, usually up to three every day.

One night Matt gave me an insight into the weird of the wonderful at dinner. Though we skipped the raw horse meat sashimi we did go for the dried pig intestine. Lets just say, give it a miss, you’re really not missing all that much other then a good story. Then came the salted fish on a stick – corn-dog style. Again not the best thing ever, but getting better. Next course was fried prawns, heads and shells included. delicious, once you got around the, “I’m crunching the head now” bit. Okonomeaki (a cabbage omelette), sushi, noodles and rice all followed and raised the bar to the second best Japanese meal of my life. Real write home about sort of stuff.

The only real way to gather the courage to eat pig intestine (especially as a vegetarian) is to have a few drinks. Japanese beer was out of this world good – and I’m not much of a beer guy. Light and flavourful but with a creamy head that held form like good Irish Guinness. Soon we hit the hard stuff – plum wine was the first go. Sickly sweet, it removes the enamel from your teeth and goes down smooth enough to get you dancing on the table before the main course. Sochu followed – some sort of rice derived spirit it has the flavour of furniture polish cut with a little bit of naphthalene for flavour. It tasted like I was drinking strychnine and was begging for a nip of tequila to get the nasty taste out of my mouth. The variety we were drinking was affectionately described as Okinawan Moonshine, never a good sign. Things get a bit hazy from there, but I’ve been told I had a good time.

Some of the food in Tokyo was outstanding, some was so beyond my comfort zone I would never have conceived eating it and some of it turned my stomach if only for ethical reasons. It a delicious place – and I’m already hanging out for my second course

Bon appetite,
Scott

One man’s terrorist is another’s celebrity chef

Rachel Ray – she’s everywhere, even here in New Zealand we get to see her cooking up a storm on daytime TV. The way that she can grate cheese onto nachos, and to think to add tomatoes to a salad – genius. A little while ago I heard that she was actually endorsing Dunkin Doughnuts – now that goes beyond sell-out in my books, this is like NASCAR sticker-shock sell out sort of stuff. There is enough refined sugar in a doughnut to put an Olympian onto a Type 2 coma. This is the sort of rubbish that is killing the next generation and she is best palls with their mama’s. Pretty bad if you ask me. But all of a sudden I find myself strangely supportive of Ms. Ray – perhaps it was when she was accused of being an Islamic fundamentalist. Not Rachel, NO! Maybe Martha, but not Rach! Checkout this add and see the whole story – this, by the way is the first time that Fox News has featured on my blog, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not…



Those of you who have traveled to the Middle East know that this sort of scarf is a standard sort of article of clothing. Think of it like a sweatshirt, a baseball cap or trousers – not some sort of symbolic uniform. The ignorance is truly astonishing - the fact that people in the 21st century can be that judgemental just over a scarf is one of the most saddening things I’ve heard in a long time. It wasn’t even an authentic keffiyeh (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keffiyeh) but just some paisley scarf borrowed from the make-up girl.

Don’t let fools like this drive a wedge between us all – the one thing that I always tell people is that the more you travel and the more people you meet from around the world, the more you realize not how different we all are, but how the similar we are. Everyone wants peace, security, a happy family, a place to live and the chance to laugh. While we may look different, speak a different language, live in a different homeland - we aren’t that different from each other. Seeing what we have in common is what will bring peace - so you wear you scarf Rachel, and if you offend some right-wing, jingoistic, ignorant assholes I’m right there with you, doughnuts and all.

Make doughnuts, not war.
Scott

AdventureSKope – Heroes Series

This is the first segment in a series of posts about inspirational characters. Heroes can come in many forms; mentors that teach and guide, mythic giants that inspire and those with the strength of spirit to lead from the front with a quiet dignity. The first in the series fits into all of these categories with ease and has been an inspiration to climbers, environmentalists and business-geeks since the 1960’s.

Yvon Chouinard – Yosemite pioneer, stone-master, outdoor equipment innovator, Patagonia founder, blacksmith, writer, activist and philosopher. YC has broken the mould on how to be a successful outdoorsman, businessman and a leader in a field of alpha-male mavericks. He’s created a company that builds products that last, not just till the next season’s collection comes out, but last a lifetime. I have a Patagonia shirt that I’ve worm weekly for 15 years and it still looks good as new. He’s proven that a business can be environmentally sustainable AND profitable. He pays his staff to take time off and work for environmental action groups. He climbs. He goes fly fishing. He surfs. He’s transformed corporate environmentalism from some fringe hippy-idea to something that will actually make a difference (have a look at 1% for the planet some time) and on top of all that he understands the importance of having fun, seeing the world and getting the most out of life.

Have a look at this video and see for yourself.
Cheers,
Scott