33-34 yo Drugs, Rape,Insaniety, Gay, GraduationDivorce, abortion,

I’ve woken again with the now familiar nightmare.  The psychedelic drowning with my mind moving about in it’s shell.  I’m quite afraid but not in panic. Just tired. The 3 am wakening. The memories.

The chronology of this time is confusing.

I remember her mother and her father fighting. He’s become violent. She’s again demanding her daughter’s total involvement.I ‘m a psychiatrist by now and call the ‘bluff’.  The constant alcoholic family drama and crisis have worn me down. My wife is in her final year of her residency but this constant loud distraction of her mother’s is a priority. I’ll be unfaithful after she graduates. After I throw the big party for her. After she gets angry about the gazebo insisting we can’t ‘afford’ one , after she’s taken the lowest paid academic job.  After she’s said she doesn’t want children and maybe we could adopt.

I drove over with her and took her mother to an apartment leaving her drunken father and drunken brother.  Problem solved. Yet, no.  The mother is now more depressed. Aparently safety and being out of the situation is not the solution.  She’s now even more of an issue for my wife. The mother’s chronic depression, hypochondriasis, drunken marriage, all of that is competing for centre stage as my wife is coming up to the finishing line of a good thing, her pediatric specialty. It’s all about the mother.  Alcoholism is like that. Untreated Al Anon’s are like that. But the whole family drinks and I drink. And as the stress of work increased the drinking increased a bit for us whereas for the mother she and her husband drank more along with the older brother who would soon die of liver disease from alcoholism

But my new friend is a woman doctor, quite the genius, from an amazing family. Yet she’s married the bad boy whose father is a schizophrenic criminal and whose family is even more bizarre than my in laws and definitely lower class to their middle class.  My friend’s family is if anything upper class. Class and education become a thing now because the boyfriend is a biker drug dealer and his attraction to the beautiful doctor with high intelligence is rather classic bad boy good girl dynamic. I’m of course studying all this at the time and treating families with wayward adolescents and paralleling my own life is this whole psychotic work life where the descriptions of the patients resonate with the friends and families outside of the psychiatry ward and psychiatry outpatients.  The walls between the two are grow thin.  

I have real difficulty with this time.  The final year of my residency. There’s the conference and infidelity. She’s teaching and I’m continuing to do my residency, work seeing patients in my basement, moon lighting  in the detox ,studying for exams, preparing for orals,and actually attending my first AA meeting because I am invited as a professor and am working with alcoholic families. It’s unusual.  I don’t think in a thousand years I’ll ever come to such a meeting as fellow sufferer. decades later I will.

I remember that there are these huge house parties that academics throw.I’m attending them occasionally by myself. I guess this may be after my ex and I separated.  I remember the big party I threw for her graduation and that there was no such celebration of my graduation. It was Maria Gomorri who convinced me to attend my final exam. I was going to leave.  I have a tendency to leave things that bother me.  

I had been fucked by my professor. I’d divulged to him my difficulties with my wife.  We were apparently working on staying together but she was furious and hurt and life was a mess. I was either at work with crazy people who were angry and wanting to kill me or at home with a wife who was angry and wanting to kill me.  

I was smoking dope. i remember hot knifing hashish because the biker friend had brought some in from Montreal. There’s a few of us. Now. I’m a good customer. He’s used his wife to access uptown markets. I introduce him to other faculty members.  

At this party in Tuxedo, millionaires and academia, there’s a girl passed out on the coats in the room for that. I come in to get my coat and this guy is about to rape her. He’s with his friend. Their pants are down. She’s drunk and trying to push him away feebly because she’s so out of it. I fight with this lawyer and his buddy and push them out of thee room then carry this woman out to my car. Her girlfriend comes with me bringing her fur coat. I drive them to her apartment in the Osborne area. It’s very uptown. I carry her into the bedroom and leave her with her girlfriend.  

The lawyer and businessmen from my high school are identified as serial rapists who have victimized dozens of young women using the new ‘date rape drug’.  I don’t even register that this is what has happened to this woman I’ve rescued but that her assaillants were another couple of predators. I’m just glad I stopped it.  

I’ve stopped dozens of women being raped having arrived to interrupt the attack. Weird. I remember an Indian woman being raped outside a bar and I walked across the street because she was screaming help and this guy was ripping off her dress.  They were both drunk. My car was parked nearby. Broad daylight. Winnipeg.  

“Would you like some assistance, “ I ask as she’s being punched in the side of the head and he’s ripping off her panties. It may seem strange that I’m so formal in these sitatuions but I am. I’m kind of like a Roger Moore OO7 character come to rescue.  There’s a funny movie of home made super hero’s and I identify. I discuss these situations with my psychiatrist. He eventually says, the insight, the bit I’m to reflect on , ‘you must be ‘scanning’ your environment for opportunities to rescue people. I think most people just don’t see what’s going on around them. They have their head down or are focused on where they’re going but you must be scanning your environment for an opportunity to help.”

I remember the woman drowning at the beach. There were hundreds watching. Only six of us went to assist. The lifeguard pulled her out of the water. I ran the length of the beach to help him pull her body out of the boat as he’d pulled her in and now was getting her out of the boat and I was helping with CPR. But there were hundreds of people and only 6 of us came to asssist him.  I’d run by them taking pictures, pointing out to the friend that there was drowning person, commenting on the lifeguard rescuing her.

“I’d rather be raped by an Indian than rescued by a white man,” she shouting at me spitting. At that time a half dozen other Indians stumbled out of the bar and I made my escape. They’d run a chain on her. I never know if she said that because she meant it or knew that this guy was one of a gang and that they would kill me if I interceded.  I just didn’t know but I left.

Now I’m avoiding talking about sex.  

I told my psychiatry supervisor, the professor, the clinical supervisor. “It’s all counter transference. You must tell me as it can affect your therapy patients.” He will abuse my trust. Use my information for his purpose. He is a narcissist at best, perhaps a sociopath but not a psychopath, thank God. 

So I open up and tell him about being raped as a teen by a man ,about the drugs , the betrayal by the band, the police and ‘good time Charlie’s back in town’ , about the first marriage. He told me it was terrible that the man had hurt me and that I shouldn’t have been hurt when I was penetrated.

 Someone who cared  would go slowly and caringly and heal all the pain of that time.”  It seemed like something odd at the time but only was something I thought of in retrospect when the mind wonders ‘why didn’t I see that coming....how could I have taken a different path...should I have taken a different path.”  

I’d go on to tell him  about my wife and the girl in Phoenix. I’d tell him how there’s no more  sex in the marriage any more, how lonely I was , how I’d given up everything ,being a country gp and flyin doctor to be a psychiatrist and now I didn’t know I wanted to be because my marriage didn’t make any sense and I didn’t like where we were going.  I felt trapped and desperate. I was so vunerable.   She was  constantly angry and I told him how depressed I was, how guilty I felt, how remorsefulremorse, and how I’d been seeing this psychiatrist for training but now all I knew was remorse.

Virginia Satir has come to town and we were attending a workshop.  She was doing all her human sculpturing and teaching us through ritual the positions of power. I was paired with my supervisor on stage and must sit before and below him.  

“I really liked when you were on your knees before me,” he said. 

“I liked the workshop,” I said. 

He was Jewish and had invited me to attend this weekly study of the tarot. It was Aleister Crawley and the demonic and we always drank and did drugs.  We’d go,  smoke dope and watch the slides and have a discussion of Alester Crowley and sexuality. It was very stimulating. .  There were followers of Crawley there.  He was into the demonic and drug use. Ironically my new friends the biker drug dealer would eventually tell me he too was a follower of Aleister Crowley. 

There was this whole ‘gnostic’ excitement. I felt invited into an inner circle of esoteric teaching by psychiatrists and psychiatric staff. I was studying psychiatry and attending this weekly seminar with a half dozen people from the psychiatry department. We were always smoking dope and drinking wine and it was intellectually very stimulating and fun. 

My work was thoroughly demanding and my home was depressing and these wonderful people invited me into their inner circle. One was an old lady who was a card reader and clairvoyant.  We’d talk about spirituality andspiritism  and the discussion of sexuality was free ranging as well. I was the youngest. 

I was deeply interested in spirituality and had been for ever. I was not meditating or doing prayer because I’d been told not to. I was ‘thinking’ and ‘overthinking’ and everything was related to everything. There was this huge fun insightful revelation of meanings in meanings and all this analysis. Analysis and analysis and analysis and jokes about analysis and comments about double entedre’s and lots of exhilarating insight into the unconscious.

I was no longer involved with Community Medicine because I was told I had to ‘choose’. I was always being manipulated. In retrospect I see this massive manipulation and how it was never about my “needs’ as a student but always about their “needs’ . They were always saying what they felt would be good for me but not ever how it would serve them. So of course I was taking extra call and doing others work and it was all their self sacrificing by letting me do their work.  I’d train in all this and realize how it was used in the workplace and it’s just all part of daily life but now I saw it.  Always there was a quality of you should ‘volunteer, but if you don’t you’d be failed in the residency.”

I had friends in the residency.  A beautiful colleague. She was getting all the same manipulation and disclosed that she’d had sex with her supervisor.  I didn’t register this.

A senior colleague told me that my professor was homosexual and that I should beware . He had a history of using the young staff men and students.  He had a overtly gay medical student as his companion frequently.  But I was in theatre. I wasn’t homophobic .  I had friends who were gay. I was married. HE was married. His Irish wife was divorcing him. I don’t know the reason but when I told him about my own marital problems he divulged his wife was cold and angry. “Irish, angry, unforgiving.”  

My mother was Irish and she sure was one to hold a grudge.

He was such a good man. So hard working. So spiritual. So loving to his daughters. His wife like my wife was so unsupportive. The women at the Aleister Crowley study nights were older but so sexually liberated.  So open in discussion , so avante  garde.

He invited me to attend a Jewish dinner. I think it was Passover. It was a central feature of his religion and he told me that I was being invited, ‘initiated’ into the very core of Judaic religion. He thought I would appreciate this. It was so spiritual. 

I went to dinner with his wife and children.  It was a wonderful evening.  The children participated in the ceremony. His wife was withdrawn and angry but they preceeded through this candlelight ritual. I think we had Matso ball soup. Maybe gefilte fish.

It was family. Warm and Rockwellian..

He invited me down stairs. We’d already drunk quite a bit and we smoked drugs.  “My cousin gets the best stuff. You’ll love this.”

I was catatonic after I’d shared a joint. He undressed me then.  I remember the most amazing sexual experience. I was frozen in moving, and he was all over me, pleasuring me in every way, massaging my body, licking me, fellating me, then he was in from behind, gently entering me.  It was surprising. Not painful.  Perhaps he had lube.  I know he was prepared. I was floating alsmost like a float room experience.

He kept saying, “I know you wanted this. You forced me to do this. You made me do this. You were so sexy. You wanted this. You made me do this”. Then he was pounding me from behind, his voice angry.

He was very angry at his wife. She was using the children as a weapon interefereing with his seeing them. They were separated.  He liked me to wear her lingerie so he could fuck me in their marriage bed.  I did as I was I told. I felt that my residency, more than three years of twining depended on my not angering him.

I enjoyed it all. Physically it was pleasurable. After it was over and he was sated I felt guilty and ashamed.I told him  that I just wanted to be friends, after that first time, 

“I just want to be friends. I don’t want a physical relationship”  I’d tell him every time and he’d just persist. A little wiry man who could destroy my career and reputation. The department was dominated by Jews. I now believed they all or most had been initiated this way. I didn’t want to look the fool, I just wanted it over. 

He’d describe homosexuality as the highest spiritual act and insist that my desire to be spiritual without being physical was the problem. That I must embrace my sexuality in my spiritulity. They were not separate.

I’d figure that this was what Jews did. This was the spirituality of Judaism. I’d also figure that my fellow residents were going through a similiar initiation into psychiatry. There was the woman being fucked by one of the other professors. I didn’t think hers was spiritual as much as romantic.

I felt I’d been so ignorant of this other adult mature level of reality and consciousness.  Was like doing drugs, feeling elite but dirty. 

Maureen had moved out with her mother. I was left in the house alone. This whole separation and her moving out had preceded the sex but it was all so overlapping, his divorce and her leaving and then I met my friend and musical mentor from years before. We’d talked over the years, having coffee in Osborne village. This night he told me he’d sold his guitar and was drunk and picked up a bottle and threw it at the mirror on the wall across the from counter.  I settled things down. I did that. I’d countless times especially with doctors out drinking paid for the damages and got them home in a taxi.

I brought my friend home and told him as he had no place to stay he could stay in my basement.  Maureen moved out. He smoked dope every day and I kept the refrigerator full and he said “every artist needed a patron’. 

But he taught me to play guitar while he was there. And the psychiatrist came over and I had my harmonium and tabala and we’d smoke ganja and play drums and make music and chant. It was all so very holy but after the artist went downstairs, the man would get angry and demand sex. He was always agitated while the artist was so mellow. Stoned I’d see them as a cross and a star. We’d be smoking Thai weed and I’d see them morph into the catholic and the Jew. I didn’t know what I was. I was some kind of Christian Hindu. I’d say years later I sold the house to get rid of the house guest. I’d not say it was because I no long felt my bed was safe. He’d drop in at all hours for his “booty call”. I’d wonder whether I’d have liked this if he didn’t hold power over me. I wished we’d elsewhere and elsewhen but I grew increasingly to realize I was more an object to him.

I loved these nights but I didn’t like the sex. I loved making music. I loved the discussions. Which isn’t true in a way because I loved being used or more, I loved not being in control. I loved that after years of pleasuring of my frigid withholding wife here was this person who was solely interested in pleasuring me.  And yet it wasn’t right and I felt wrong.  But I liked that I was receiving rather than feeling she was always taking and then I felt he was taking and no one cared that I said no. I’d talk to him about it and say that I didn’t like it. I told him over and over again I didn’t want to do it again but he’d just climb into my bed at night. Show up for his ‘booty call’ and I thought I was such a woman, complaining and yet participating. Saying no and doing yes.

It was all what I assumed the other residents were experiencing or at least those who were the best.  My friend was studying multiple personality disorder and I was fascinated with borderlines.  I had this sense that I was now ‘split’ , two persons. Animus and anima. I felt I’d become the animus and anima and that this man who was Simon to my Garfunckel was enlightening me. I was doing kundalini yoga exercises and felt my chakra opening and expanding. I felt his energy penetrating me, burning up my spine. I felt at times he was breeding demons in me, I would later wash for years. 

Later I’d read that great line about Bob Dylan, “Bob, how come you promise us girl’s you’ll make us princess’ and  we all end up feeling like whores.’

I’d stopped seeing my psychiatric psychotherapist. I don’t know why. I didn’t want to talk about my homosexuality. I felt forced gay and wondered why I didn’t just leave my residency, leave the university, leave the city, the country and go to Africa. But I stayed. 

The women fm the Alistair Crowley group asked me to come by and stopped me naked and had sex with me.It was a bit mechanical.  There was lust but I was depressed. I’d known love I thought with Maureen but that had just become nothing. Here was this other world of sex and drugs.  I was in the inner circle. I kept wondering which of the Jewish psychiatrists was a top and which was a bottom.  There was all this secrecy and I was told I wasn’t to know ‘yet’.  I’d ask always about judaism and Freud.  There were heady discussions but he wanted to ‘show’ our sexual relationship. I was ashamed of it. I wanted to be discrete but he’d touch my bum in the cafeteria. He’d try to fuck me on an elevator. We’d almost get caught and that thrilled him though it horrified me. 

Once we were supposed to just be going out to park and talk and next thing I was stoned and having my cock sucked and a policeman was at the window. This invigorated him and terrified me.  He was off on vacation coming back and telling me about his gay pursuits but it was increasingly just sex.

I was also feeling like my other friend was using me. I was giving him a place to stay and lending him thousands. The week of needing a place to stay became months. He wasn’t leaving.  Why would he. Don’t feed the raccoons.

I learned I had a problem saying ‘no’ to everyone . I was simply not assertive when it came to my personal space and relationships. Years later it would be a central issue of advanced therapy. I was repeatedly pushed into situations I didn’t want because I was afraid of the emotional extortion. I was afraid if I said ‘no’ to the emotional bullying by Maureen she’d leave me. I felt if I said ‘no’ to my professor he’d have me kicked out of my program.

I felt that I’d given up my general medicine, my northern medicine and my community medicine and my marriage, all to complete this psychiatry residency. I was in the last year and if I could just take it up the ass a few more times I’d pass. 

Mostly I felt that I’d worked so hard and had the highest grades and was the most admired resident, offered positions in all the university, yet now  it was reduced to my just being a ‘fuck’ .  I felt I’d never be thought of as having passed psychiatry on my own merit but that I’d passed because I’d sucked the supervisors’s cock.  

I’d become a bimbo.

I’d tell a friend years later about this feeling. My friends were psychologists and they’d say, “He bred you. He made you his bitch. That’s all it was a bout. Domination. You were the golden boy and he showed you. You were probably a fantasy aryan in his twisted perverted mind.” Women and men would all tell me their rape and date rape stories. All my friends had been used in someway. I identified with the women. I’d been reduced to a hole in the mattress, a number on an arm. I had no self esteem. I just wanted out. I only felt good stoned. I was down so low it felt like up to me.

I thought that. He hated his wife for what she was doing. I was Irish. I’d find myself in these weird ancient struggles. A catholic Irish doctor would fuck me over, not literally but figuratively, and I’d eventually learn he hated the ‘protestant Irish’.  “You’re family was never Irish. You’re British. .”  It never was an issue to me. The idea of being Irish only gained meaning years later when I went to Ireland.  I’d spend the next decades wondering about my sexuality.  I’d wonder as much about my identity.

I’d begin to drink more heavily , regularly a bottle of wine and now I was smoking dope a whole lot. He always had some from his cousin and my drug dealer biker friend was supplying me with it and my friend had his source. I was working two jobs and paying .

So here I was being fuckcd and not wanting to be fucked, this guy showing up and taking me somewhere to fuck me when I ‘just wanted to talk’ and me feeling like I was in this weird Bizarro movie.  My wife was not speaking to me having gone back to her mother.  I couldn’t say anything to my parents and I didn’t want to be ‘gay’.  I wasn’t gay.  But I didn’t think I wanted to be a pscyhiatrist any more because the other psychiatrists were gay.

I was offered a job by Dr. Nady El Guebaly and I took it. I became an assistant professor.  I had a clinical position as the head of family therapy at the teaching hospital. I became terrified.  

“Now we’ll be working together I can have you whenever I want you. I ‘m so looking forward to fucking you over lunch. You can suck my cock  between patients and we can really get it on all the time. “ he whisper to me in the hallways grabbing my crotch. I’d cringe. 

I was horrified.

I’d had a girlfriend for a few months but she said she was pregnant and I said we could have the baby but she said she wanted an abortion and I begged her to not but she went ahead anyway. I was devastated. She was Jewish. 

When I left the city he took that girlfriend as his own and told me she hated me now. He took the position of head of family therapy that had been created for me and now was vacated. 

We’d remain ‘friends’.  

I was supposedly ‘bisexual’.

My friends sister was beautiful.  I was visitting him in California smoking dope and drinking wine and he told me ‘don’t get involved with my sister.’ Her ex is a great guy but she just had a kid with him and then made his life miserable. She ‘s my sister and I love her but she’s a bitch. I dont want to see you hurt.”

I didn’t know what sex I was but I was a ‘slut’ and easy. She just had to take off her bra and I was to quote Paul Simon, “just like a dog who was befriended.’

St. Paul said, I do that which I don’t want to do and don’t do that which I want to do”  my own life was a reflection of my fundamental clinical concern.  I flew to India when I graduated, asked what I always wanted. I’d spend a couple of life changing months around Bombay, now sex with women, wanting to be sure I was okay but feeling somehow ‘impregnated”

I returned to Winnipeg just wanting to get away from the insaniety. I couldn’t go on with his desire. He was oblivious of my feelings and I felt like I was saying all the things women said. It wasn’t spiritual. It was just lust and lies and sordid.  After I went to California and came back to move ther  felt I was again with a loving woman and with friends. I would move to the US and leave this mess.  

My friends were multimillionaires. I was going to parties with world famous doctors. I just needed to do my exams.

I felt badly telling Dr. Nady I was leaving. I so admired him despite my colleague fucker disparaging him. My colleague lover fucker friend was brilliant in a different eccentric way and admirable in his own way and intellectual. I liked being fucked but I didn’t like being fucked. Especially when I compared that to the experience I had with the women which was transcndent by comparison. So deeply emotional and reassuring. Homosexual sex was a kind of advanced mutual masturbation whereas love and lust with women was something more. 

It’s was all just overwhelming and I was a bit paranoid with all these ‘witchy people’. He was so looking forward to my joining them and he’d touch my crotch or bum.  Some of the women on staff were telling me they were part of a coven and excited I was joining them. . The Alester Crawley reference was always coming up. I was reading a book given to me about Madame Blavatsky.  It all seemed secret and sordid. I felt like I was in a Rosemary’s Baby episode only somewhere.mn the line I’d deliver a demon. I’d d meet still occasionally with Carl Ridd or John White and they seemed lighter freer. I felt so dark and heavy. I needed the pot to get by and to get sodomized. I needed more and more to be drunk fo when he entered me.

I was however having wild crazy time. My biker friends had me on the back of their motorcycles when we’d careen about the streets of the city at high speed. I was dealing with lawyers with Maureen. My mother was incredible. I kept wanting to just walk away. She’d help with all the horrendous ‘paper’ and protect me. I felt safe with my parents but a disappointment, I avoided my brother and sister in law not wanting to bring my sordidness in to the joy of their growing family and love. 

“I still think Maureen is wonderful woman but I’ll never forgive you for letting that mother anywhere near us. She’s the nastiest person I’ve ever known. She’s so shallow and arrogant. I understand now everything you were going through but I don’t approve of any of it. You’re old enough to know better..”

Well, I went off and had a glass of wine and smoked a joint and left the mothers to fight over the dead carcas of a life.

One night I spent the whole night drinking a bottle of whisky and considering ways to kill myself while looking at the pink house and all our possession and that life which was now dead .All of this was  dead ‘stuff’. I threw the television at the wall. I thought everything was better when we’d kept it in the closet. I blamed the tv and all the propaganda and us watching movies all the time and the news. I blamed this and that. But in the end I blamed me. I didn’t kill myself.  The sun came up. I watched it. Winnipeg is a beautiful city at dawn. 

I had the Mustang. I ‘d driven down to San Francsisco to see my friend and his wife. I’d begun a love affair with his sister. She wanted me back. She said we would move in together. It seemed such a good solution. 

I traded my mustang in for money. The now ex had frozen my accounts and was taking all the money. I told my Mom I just wanted out. I said not to fight. She took the house and the possessions and the back account and I left in this beat up bug that had been used by the Vancouver Folk Festival as an amb ulance.  I was travelling south with a Mennonite artist. I’d named the bug, Pendergast. I’d been given tickets for speeding in the mustang and convinced the authorities that this bug couldn’t speed. It hardly made 80 and was without a hand brake so on hills I opened the door and put a brick under the front tire.  It had problems with hills. 

Still I had money for getting to SF.

“You can’t leave, I’m not finished with you.” Maureen had said. I’d  replaced. “I gave you 10 years of respectability and nothing was ever enough.”

We would never talk again. I’d done my best. It turned out to be the worst. 

The gazebo had been the last straw for me. I’d been working three jobs and all the money was going to her but I wanted to sit outside in the summer. I hated the mosquitoes. I had my garden and I barbecued outside. These were good times for me. Gazebos’ went on sale for $100 and I could have put one in the backyard but she’d said ‘we’re not having a gazebo’ .she put her foot down. More shouting. More anger. And in retrospect I expect she didn’t want the neighbours to hear her screaming. She’d begun to scream at me just like her mother screamed at her father. It’s an eerie thing.  

I never got a gazebo even though I had the house to myself for six months.  

With my new “love” rented a house in Marin.  I had a steady supply of pot. We all smoked pot back then and we drank wine. She went to work . I studied for my American exams and got A’s. Stanford offered me a job on the basis of Jack Hildes reference. 

“Dr. Hildes is greatly admired. That’s a great reference to have.” They told me. 

I was going to enter the community psychiatry program on staff .  I had made a friend of a Berkeley prof and he offered me a position teaching in their philosophy, communication and culture department, a new position, which would have involved psychiatric research in community psychiatry.  

Her  boy had been impossible. The first week I arrived I was at the principal’s office because he’d been destroying things.  He was violent and destructive and I’d not been told he’d been expelled from every school, seven in total. He was in Gr. 1.

I’d come to know that women no longer were interested in me as a friend but would almost invariably have a crazy person in their family and see having a boyfriend who was a psychiatrist as a cheap solution. I’d learn women with old cars liked mechanics. It was a different and difficult insight.

Now that I had been womanizer and bred I was softer and had more insights  identifying with women and understanding them differently.

I assumed this was why psychiatrists as part of their finial initiation had sex with the residents. I didn’t think mine was an unusual thing. I knew there were psychiatrists who just prescribed drugs and were kind of ‘junior neurologists’ but I figured the psychiatrists who like me were the psychiatric psychotherapists, the analytically trained, the inner circle who could do magic, these ones had sex. I found myself wondering who was having sex with who and who I’d have to have sex with. I didn’t want any more homosexuality.  I didn’t want it at work. I wondered if non Jewish psychiatrists went through the homosexual initiation or just the Jewish ones. I couldn’t imagine the Jews I so admired all being homosexual or even have sex with students. 

I was going to marry and raise this kid and hang out in Marin and have a good life. It was a full time job straightening out this kid. His mother used him as an emotional weapon. Her ‘inability to control him’ resulted in him making her the centre of attention. No one wanted her around. He was sexualized. What I’d call the single mother syndrome. Without a man to protect him from the mother she’d smothered him. She treated him like a boyfriend. I’d call it emotional incest. 

I became the boys friend, another uncle. I ‘d phone up his father , meet with him and tell him that I was ‘pinch hitting’ that I was not going to interfere with his fathering. I was going to continue to love his ex but that his relationship with his son was completely sacrosanct.  He was my friends friend and soon the three of us would be taking the  “little man’ everywhere with us. His mother didn’t like this.  “You’re ruining my son.”  Yet he stopped being kicked out of school and soon we were invited everywhere as a family. He was a great kid and no longer had temper tantrums when his mother was angry . He had stopped being her surrogate amplifier. 

That’s when the shit hit the fan. One day at this elegant affair I heard the mother and aunts and other important women telling her how pleased they were with her son’s behaviour “since Bill had come along.’  They actually said she was doing a lousy job of parenting because he’d been becoming a little terror.  They told her matter of factory the family had been going to insist he be sent to military school. However, now that “ Bill had smartened her up and let her son be little gentleman it was all thanks to Bill.  Feminists don’t like any praise going to men and single mothers demanding their be no other god but them aren’t likely to take well to being told by their very successful wealthy and powerful mothers the way things were. 

She was furious.  She was angry. Her son this little man of 7 years old suddenly through his old fashioned temper tantrum beginning to break dishes at the table. I picked him up and gently put him in his room.  That had been the ‘technique’ which had lead to his stopping all his acting out.  I’d simply remove the audience and remove him from the audience. I was highly effective while his mother had played the game ‘i’m overwhelmed. I don’t know what to do’ but refused to give up control.  She and he could ruin any event. He was a very bright boy and learned a lot of bad behaviour from her. 

I’d been called and offered a locum at the Brandon Mental Hospital. The provincial psychiatrist had called me because they were desperate with an asylum and no psychiatrist. Could I come for a month or two. I was to start at Stanford. I didn’t need this drama. I’d been through the insaneity with Maureen.

Now she took the boy out of the room and brought him back into the kitchen .  Splitting and using the poor kid to get back at me and her mother and all of society for wanting quiet and order. 

I phoned Manitoba.

“What are you doing.” 

“I’m taking the job I told you about.”

“You’re supposdd to be starting at Stanford.”

‘That can wait. I don’t want the kid screaming and your screaming and us going back to the way it was when I arrived. I told you I was never again going to sit in front of a principal again.. I’d done my own time as a child and I wasn’t going to do that for you again. Your son was doing great. That’s what your parents and grand parents and everyone said. He’s getting A’s at school.You’re angry so he’s angry but we agreed he’s not allowed to break things or he goes to his room. You’ve arbitrarily changed the rules and frankly I’m not going to do this again. The evidence is overwhelming. I think I’ve done my job here. You can think about it while I’m away.”

“No one leaves me.”

“I’m leaving you now.”

I got on a plane the next day.  We exchanged letters and calls for awhile 

Eventually I’d send her a bill for psychiatric services.  She didn’t like that. She never paid. My friend said that all the men who knew her thought that was genius. True coup d’tat. “ But my mother and she will never forgive you. The boys doing well and his father thanks you.”

Bullies on the London Tube

I was in England. My first wife and I had a tiny tiny flat in the basement of a house.  The toilet was outside, across the vestibule, separate, cold but clean.  South Putney.  We took the Tube to work.  Walking to the station till we separated and went our different ways.  I never liked to leave her.  She was so beautiful.  Her departure was like losing a vital organ each day since she'd been hurt in the blast of the IRA bomb.
I was so in love with her. And she with me.  Young people and we didn’t really know it.  So full of life we thought this was all it would be like.  A couple of travellers and dancers.  We’d bicycled across Europe together and now were each of us studying dance at night with world champions  She with Bill and Bobby Irvin and I with Doreen Key.
To make money for our lessons we took whatever work we could.
There was a tube station in London. I don’t remember what it was called.  In the War the Underground had been used as bomb shelters for the population.  This was one of the deepest if not the deepest.  Three flights of elevators to get to the bottom.  I was waiting for my train there at the deepest place..  Three floors down.  Masses of people in constant streams hurrying during rush hour.  Going to work.  I was standing by the rail.  My overcoat, umbrella under my arm, black brief case, black pants white shirt. I was going to work in an office.
My mother had taught me to type when I was sixteen.  I got jobs working on the proto computer typewriters.  Made more money than I would working on the oil rigs with my friends.  Could stay in London and attend the shows. Take dance lessons.  All I had to do is accept the natural ribbing I took from the girls and guys.  Both sexes called me a faggot for working as a typist.  It was girl’s work in England. Even if the keyboard was special.  I was called faggot a lot by the mail room boys. The ones without the education and the thicker accents.  Only a few of the girls made fun of me.  And some were like sisters when I worked in the pool.  Others were so very jealous that I was I was working the ‘machine’.
I was the Canadian too.  Canadians were much admired then because we were workers.  The unions had affected London badly and everyone worked as slow as they could. I was often told I was making others look bad.  I thought they were joking. I’d not encountered that sort of behaviour before.  I just thought everyone went to work and tried to work their hardest and to do their best. I was young then. I didn’t know how many kinds there are.  Travelling was opening my eyes to so much.
Her screams took me out of my reverie.  I’d been just standing probably half asleep when I heard her first scream. Loud long cries and shouts, “Stop it.  Stop it.”
I looked back to where it came from.  There she was on the down escalator.   Wrestling with a man  He had her half undressed.  Her white blouse was stripped open. I could see her fine peaches and cream breasts out of the bra which he was pulling off from behind her as she wrestled in his grip.  I watched for only a second and began moving through the dense crowd to her.  I met them as they stumbled off the escalator his big hands now pulling up her tight and proper skirt white panties showing. He really looked like he was going to rape her right there half lifted up onto the hand rail of the escalator. She was  whimpering now, ‘don’t don’t  tears wetting her face and her long black hair.
“Here, stop that, “I said, confronting the man, who was easily my height but older and thicker in the neck and arms. It was obvious he worked out.  A worker or a gym guy but definitely looking like one who had a go at the weights.  Formidable.  The girl was sobbing as I stood there staring at the man.  The stream of faceless people continued down the escalator moving around us as we formed a little huddle there at the base. He was still holding her by the arm and she was pulling her ripped shirt across herself to hide her breasts as she struggled to get free..
“Hey don’t you like girls, “ he almost spit the words at me.  “Don’t you want to see a bit of fluff going to work like,”  “You got a problem with that.” He said turning his attention fully on me as she broke his grip and he zipped his fly up. The girl had pulled away.
Just then  half dozen more of them surrounded me.  I ‘d not seen them.  I was young and naive.  I looked around for the police. There was a transit police at that level. I saw him running away. He was a tiny East Indian man. I remember seeing him phoning for help over the shoulders of the men who were now collective pushing me backwards towards the tracks.   In that way that bullies do. I didn’t know then what I know now. What cowards they are.  Always working as nests.  Never one on one but only when they have an advantage.  Six on one were the number here. And they must have been in their late 20’s.  Older tougher.
I felt the quick hand pushes  to my chest as I stumbled back, people clearing around me moving aside and away from the hooligans.  Old men reading their papers folding them and taking their place in an outer circle of spectators.
“What’s wrong with looking at titties. You some kind of girl boy you don’t like a free show. Here I was giving all the men a free show and you have to a problem with that. . You could have seen her pussy. I was getting to that.  Now how do you feel. Is this what you wanted. You could have had a free show and now you’re going to die.  Hey I’m talking to you. How do you feel girlie boy?"
I suppose he called me girlie boy because I had  long hair. I had long hair in those days.  But I was having trouble paying much  attention to him and his friends because the train was coming and I could hear the high screech of the brakes.   They’d pushed me back so my heels were over the rails. I was balancing on my soles, thankful to be a dancer,  looking at him and the oncoming train.
It was a tableau.  Hundreds of English spectators. This gang of six bullies.  And me.  The one in front of me was poking me gently now with his finger tips almost caressing my chest.
“I could just get rid of you.You’re just a nuisance. Not a real man. Don’t like a bit off titty.  Could kill you right here and it would serve you right. Interfereing in real men’s business. Putting your nose where it don’t belong.  Not minding your own business.  “ he spat out the words face real close to mine as I was turning away to watch the on coming train.
I remember seeing the driver of the train and hearing the screech of the brakes.  I imagined I was dead. There was nothing I could do. I had an umbrella in one hand and a brief case in the other. Any move and I’d be on the tracks.  All he had to do is push my chest with those hands of his.Just a slight bit harder. I was swaying.  I could maybe drop the umbrella and briefcase as I fell backwards and maybe  grab hold of him. But there was the windshield and face of the driver.  I was ready to grab onto anything but it was all frozen in time. Frozen in my memory. I saw the drivers eyes wide as 45’s.  It was the era of the Beatles and for some reason I remembered a 45 I’d bought back in Canada.  I can’t say my life flashed in front of my eyes but my mind sure speeded up with odd associations and the overwhelming thought that I just might die.
Silly Canadian Don Quixote. In a London underground tube.
They were gone as soon as the train was by and coming to the emergency stop. Like rats who’d stolen cheese many times before they disappeared into the crowds.   The girl holding her torn clothing was walking head down humiliated boarding the tube.  There was a collective shame in the group as like a crowd at the  Roman games  who had wanted  but not wanted to see the Christian killed by the lions. They were disappointed when he wasn’t. But already making excuses for why they had done nothing. A bit angry with the young fellow making them look bad and feel bad.   Not totally but a bit embarrassed too that  they hadn’t done anything.
I got on the train and rode  to work just like any other day.  Later I’d learn that these guys were known and that they worked the Underground.

FACE BOOK AND THE POLITICS of SPECIAL STATUS

I like the connection with friends on Facebook It’s been enjoyable to reconnect, if only in that flat unidimensional, phone call type way that is Facebook.  It’s been fun.  I love that I am in touch with my family.  My brother since has created a circular email. Opening that is now more enjoyable than Facebook.  I’m thinking of leaving Facebook.  It’s timely.  I love the humour.  It’s was my only connection with the ‘news’ and I enjoyed the ‘diversity’ of opinion till the last election. Then the sociopaths came out.  The AD HOMINEM attacks took their toll.  All the hate speech against the Prime Minister, a man I admired. Now I continue to express my loathing for the present regime.  The leader offends so much I believe in and aging I want death rather than to live in HIS CANADA.  My Canada is a place of freedom and meritocracy.  HIS Canada is ENTITLEMENT and bureaucracy and waste, partisanship, corruption and CHARM.  I have found myself in debate after debate only to be pilloried and condemn constantly by ‘name calling’ trolls.  It’s wearying after the work I do and the threats I live with.  Those who ‘fight’ my ‘opinion’  because Justin Trudeau and the Liberals say they want ‘diversity’ but the fact remains the Political Correct ‘want no opinion but their own’.  The left is totalitarian and their views are more religiously held than any others. We can’t even ‘agree to disagree’ because they demand my ‘conversion’.  I don’t agree.
Then there was the ‘lets all smoke pot’ agenda.  I mourn the countless hours of free pro bono time my health care friends and I put into arguing against the rich psychopathic ‘smoke’ Tobacco companies. Now the rich psychopathic ‘smoke’ Marijuana companies with their billions of tax free money and crime association constantly mis inform and promote their product.  I’m a prophet crying in the dessert.  The same groups said cocaine was not addictive.  So more and more on Facebook when I put forward a medical fact, share an interesting new thought in an area where I’m a specialist, addiction, I’m literally hammered with AD HOMINEM.  Nasty name calling.  I’m beginning to feel like I’m back in an abusive marriage with Facebook.  All the trauma of all the cutting remarks and put downs and attacks and viciousness that caused me to walk away seem here once again with this multiple personality disorder Facebook persona.
I love the humour. I love the puppy dogs. I love the cats. I love the inspirational messages.
But when Obama and Merkel and Justin Trudeau said bringing in hundreds of thousands of immigrants was good and safe,  I said, ‘whoa’.  Excuse me.  All my University level study of Sociology and Anthropology says that large movements of people quickly into other groups is the basis of civil war and societal destruction.  So I said, heck, what’s the rush.  And then the leaders lied.  “Islam is a religion of peace.”  That’s like saying ‘China is a country of Civil Liberties” or “Russia and US are countries of peace’.  These are bald faced lies.  The tragedy is if you tell a lie enough times people begin to believe it.  Further these same bullies and diabolical fiends began to rewrite history.  Christians were the enemy and Muslims were defensive. The stupidity of so many Canadians it appeared is that they didn’t know the history of the crusades and didn’t wish to study the history of the muslims.  So I systematically, already having a masters of divinity, already having many muslim friends and having trained with muslims and studied muslims studied their religion. I’d read the Koran already but I took the time to study really study history and the Muslim religions.  Everyday I’d listen to university audio tapes driving to and from work, learning about the teachings and the variety of disputes. I’d ask all the many muslims I knew and loved about their religion.  I’d travel to Turkey and hire a professor of religion and history spending every day walking through mosques asking questions reading at night about the ideas.  I thought as I always thought as education has taught me to think, maybe I ‘m wrong, maybe I’m missing something.
The conclusion was the Justin Trudeau and Obama are lying.  Islam is no more a religion of Peace than America as a nation of peace.  Good advertising.  Good marketing but the truth is far different.  Fundamentally Mohammed was a war lord and a killer and pedophile.  Jesus was son of God,  teacher, healer,  non violent.  The New Testament, the Gospel teaches love.  the Koran, like the Jewish Torah, is a mix of tribal history and guerrilla warfare teaching coupled with passages of peace and love.  Mohammed said war was the ‘lesser jihad’ whereas peace was the ‘greater Jihad’ of Islam.  Islam is a religion of war.  Now the greatest, and fewest of muslims, like Rumi know that all physical language refers to the spiritual paradoxically.  So the war that is central to Hindu texts is about the  war in each of us between right and wrong.  The war between Jesus and Satan is the war within each of us between right and wrong, love and fear.  I am ‘interpreting’ this but those who have a ‘mystical’ idea about any religion are the extreme minority. Even Buddhists are killing each other in a war over a temple in Thailand.
So Rumi, Buddha, Gandhi, Jesus, Martin Luther, may all ’teach’ peace but their followers and all the elites of the world who want power and have great greed and lust will and do use religion as a weapon for their own agenda, self aggrandizement.  The only relevant atheist political expression to date is Communism and it killed more people more efficiently than any religious based nations state in history.  Islam is no more a religion of peace than Judaism is a religion of peace. That doesn’t mean there are not a whole lot of peaceful Jews and Muslims.
The trouble is, Nazis were a very small minority of Germany and this minority lead Germany to war.  Napoleon did the same in France.  Justin Trudeau has only about a third of actual Canadian support but he insists on grandiosely speaking in the ROYAL WE.  WE, CANADIANS.  CANADIANS WANT.  I am constantly excluded by his words. Like all communists his language is language of exclusion.  If you don’t agree with me you are not a Canadian.
This is difficult for me because “Patriotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings.”  I’m not a high self esteem guy.  I’m at best an egomaniac with an inferiority complex.  I have courage, which means that I do the right thing despite the incredible terror I feel.  I get up go to work, eat, sleep and participate in Canada but Justin Trudeau and the Liberals say I am not a Canadian.  The message I hear from him every day is ‘if you don’t agree with me , get the fuck out’.
Now on FACEBOOK I have had to hear repeatedly:
“Get the fuck out of Canada."
“Shut the fuck up"
“You are ignorant."
“You are uneducated."
“You don’t know what you’re talking about"
“You’re wrong”.

I heard enough of this when I was married.  I remember my marriages as he said she said. We’d disagree and then the name calling would begin.  I have always been ‘defensive’.  I played defence in hockey.  I have been in a number of street fights but never hit first.  I actually avoid fights to the best of my ability because “first strike defence’ is the paranoids mantra.  And today everyone it feels “entitled” to attack because they are the victim.
I’m a white male.  White males aren’t allowed to be individually victims.
There is a flavour of the month victim board somewhere.
All my life these groups were the designated victims
1) Children  - I’ve never hit a child but I’ve been cut and bruised by rock throwing gangs of children.  I’ve been punched by children.  Teen agers up to the age of 18 , maybe 21 are considered children. The law has had a special status for children as victims.  So a gang of 18 year olds out of the blew surround and try to attack me coming home from the theatre with my wife.  As I chase these knife wielding Canadian children off I am fully aware that my police and courts that I pay half my income, and the media in Canada will condemn me if I hurt one of these little angels.  But because I put up a good resistance they flee.  My liberal wife is upset with my ‘language’.   ‘Did you not see the fucking knife!”  Yes but did you have to say you’d rip off their limbs and feed them to their mother….you frightened me. “  My wife was as silly as Margaret Trudeau who said Morocco was perfectly safe for western women when I was staying in the rooms of a western woman murdered that week and the posts in the city had countless posters of lost blond american and canadian and european girls kidnaped for the sex trade. Margaret Trudeau failed to notice or mention that the Australian Rugby team was her companions in Morocco.  The princess is always so self absorbed that she never even notices her parents or the men or servants who make her life ‘safe’.  So maybe 99% of children and teen agers are victims but maybe just maybe .001 % of children and teen agers aren’t.
2) Women - all my life women have been the victim. I was brought up in a home and Christian community where ‘chivalry’ and protection of women was central.  In the cowboy dogma of my youth a man “never hit a woman’.  I was a women’s liberationist and even a feminist. I was immersed in all the propaganda of the ‘woman as underdog’ and man as the abuser.  Then it got personal.  All men are rapists.  All men hate women.  This sloganeering just didn’t jive with me my father, my brother or my friends.  I knew individuals but then I lived in a country where the most privileged person was our QUEEN.  QUEEN ELIZABETH WAS NOT A VICTIM. QUEEN ELIZABETH was a woman.  So the delusions of the leftist feminist ideology wore thin in time.  A half dozen women physically hit me. I walked away. I had excuses for that. Women didn’t handle their drink.  Women would apologize and say they hit me because their last boyfriend hit them.  Women asked me to hit them.  Women asked me to shit one them.  I refused.  I got hit really hard trying to escape from violent women.  “You can’t leave me!” she scream. “No man has ever left me!!”  I ‘m growing deaf in the left ear. I put it down to shooting rifles but it could well be the cauliflower ear I was given by the woman bashing me as I tried to get out of the door.
“Women are never violent unless they have been attacked’ was the halcyon cry of the Canadian courts.
I’ve been attacked when I said “I’ve got to get some sleep, I work in the morning’ and the woman has been screaming for four hours and wants to keep screaming.  I’ve got up to go to a hotel to get some sleep so I don’t kill a patient in surgery in the morning and have been hit leaving the room.
I remember another woman telling me , ‘you can’t go to the hospital. you can’t leave me because you’re on call. you tell them you can’t come . if you cared for me you’d stay’.  That was the end of that relationship.
All my life men have been called the persecutors.  First chivalry then feminism then radical feminism and then the insanity of sexist women today, angry violent and lying, always claiming the victim role a bit like Israel in every interaction with the Palestinians.
And personally,  I HAVE NEVER HIT A WOMAN.  I HAVE been hit several times by women. Women have threatened my life.  Women have had their boyfriends hit me because my wives have pissed them off. I’ve fought a couple of low brows and hurt these thugs because their girl friends thought my wife was ‘disrespecting them’.   I can say I’ve not felt good punching a stupid sick brute who is only trying to please his mommy girlfriend.
I’ve never raped or sexually assaulted a woman.  But I was raped as a young man.  Sexually assaulted for sure.  I even had a woman ‘take advantage of me’ sexually when i was comatose at a party too drunk and stoned to move.  She undressed me and fondled me and climbed on top of me and was angry because I ejaculated immediately.  I didn’t feel good about that. I know I am supposed to.  She was older. I know she had sex with several other men that night so it’s probably wasn’t ‘assault’ and at best it could be said ‘she took advantage of me’ . I know if a man did that to a woman it would be rape.  Then I’ve had to live with double standards all my life. Mostly  I have been afraid to question them because when I do my freedom is threatened, violence is threatened, and I’m verbally abused to say the least.
But I’ve seen the dangers that my wives and girlfriends had had to face and the threats to them physically that they’ve known so I do appreciate their ‘vulnerability’.  When I was young I fought three guys trying to pick on a physically littler guy.  Most of the women I ‘ve known are physically littler and with rare exception most of women I’ve known have been physically incompetent to defend themselves. It’s saddened me.   I’ve only admired the few mature women I’ve known who were competent in martial arts and weapons.  I love the women I know who can take care of themselves personally.  My grandmother could take care of herself.  I liked working in the country because generally the women were so much less dependent than their city sisters.  The country women could shoot and ride horses. My ex wife, a city girl, was highly competent physically, a good shot and horsewoman, sailor and physically canny in Canada though out of Vancouver she was forever getting us in dangerous situations.  She’d piss off women native to their countries and the women would talk to the men and the men would threaten my life telling me to ‘control’ my wife.  She wasnt easy to control when she was sober let alone when she was drunk. The wives and girl friends who drank and did drugs weren't very lady like, not that I 'verbally' was a gentleman.   What canadian woman is controllable either.  So I’d get pushed around. I remember three guys pushing me about after my drunken wife had hit one of their wives.  Women do that sort of thing but you aren't supposed to talk about it.  Domestic violence studies show that 50% or more of the violence is female generated but that's not what the politics and courts say.  SPECIAL VICTIM STATUS. One female judge in Canada found 350 plus cases consecutively against the man.
Still,  maybe 99% of women are victims ,but maybe just maybe .000001% aren’t always and ever victims.  Just maybe.
A(n RCMP just knocked on the door. Gilbert had a marvellous time barking and defending the home. I had to throw on pants and go out side.  A woman had been sexually assaulted walking alone in the woods at night.  They were going door to door showing us pictures of this scruffy guy.  The chivalry part of me came on board. I have seen the damage first hand of sexual assault specially from the pedophiles and hate that the girls of Cologne and Rothingham are being raped and silenced.  It’s so sad.  I just don’t know.  I look at the picture.  I look at the young cop. )
I don’t want to be around children and I don’t feel safe around women though. I don’t know.  I was falsely accused by a crack cocaine addicted ex prostitute of sexually harassing her.  All she said was lies.  She was trying to extort $5000 told me she’d ‘accuse me of sexual assault if I didn’t give her $5000”.  I’d caught her stealing.  I wanted her to leave.  The lawyer who cost me $10,000 told me ‘this happens all the time, we always recommend men pay”.  I talked to dozens of men in business and learned that everyone of them had been ‘shook’ down at some point. They all laughed at me because ‘the going price is ‘$2000”.  “When ever we fire women they do this.”  “It’s happened a dozen times in our firm”.  A million dollars in time and energy,  thousands of dollars later, I was exonerated but she got the money in the end because the bureaucracy all on salary all committed to the ‘innocence of all women’ and ‘all men are rapists’ and ‘solidarity with women’ simply could not accept that one man might be innocent.
“Women never lie about sex, “ said the College of Physican Assistant Registrar, a female physician.
The Vancouver police said, “when we sent an officer to get the stuff she’d stolen, she said "of course she'd taken it and no she wasn't giving it back and further t4hat our officer had sexually harassed her. We’re sorry we’ve closed the file. “ Cowards.  Or smart.  I've been involved in a half dozen or more false sexual assault cases, and mostly it's been women who have stopped the lying psychopaths.  In one case though it was the police coroner who was at the site of the crime and diagnosed the woman had faked her wounds. She admitted to me she'd lied about being raped over and over again for money ,for revenge. "It was easy."

Still maybe 99% of women are victims but maybe .00000000001% aren’t.  My mother was a saint like Mary so it’s always hard for a man especially one who is divorced and knows he failed his marriages to think it's not his own inherent failure as a human. ‘  The judge said ‘you should give her everything. You can’t expect 50%.  You didn’t care for her enough.  A man shouldn’t expect anything after a divorce.”
That song, “Id rather be a hammer than a nail’ rings in my ears at times like that.
And the Christian white male in me says, “you’re a sinner.’  And Noblesse oblige.  And ‘I tried. I did my best’.  “Your best isn’t good enough’.  ‘I never meant for her to cry’.  “It doesn’t matter what you wanted. She’s crying.  You’re responsible for women crying.’  “it’s all your fault’.  I’d been brought up that way.  So I blamed myself. I curled up in a fetal position and waited till the kicking stopped.
I was poor.
I was homeless.
I was without food.
I was hungry.
I couldn’t work.
I accepted church charity.
I was on disability.
I was in jail.
I was in the psychiatric asylum.
But never was I told it wasn’t my fault. Always I was blamed.  Always people were angry with me and always there was punishment with a smile.  If ever I said to my mother or to any one, “she….’ I was told to shut up or was hit.’  If ever as a child, and I remember 6 years old, said ‘But he did….” i was told and hit and said’ It doesn’t matter what he or she did, you had no right to ‘react’.  You’re a man.
So when the female teacher stripped me in class in kindergarten and caned me naked , she was the victim. When the principals caned me I was the evil one.  When my mother or father hit me they said, “You make us hit you. If we don’t hit you the teachers or police will hit you harder and they may hit us so we’re doing this for your own good.”   And when I ran away as a teen ager my parents were told that they didn’t hit me enough and that they should lock me up like a dog. I heard the police chief telling my dad that and saw how sad my gentle father was to be told he had to hit and imprison his son.  The teacher had knocked me out with a wooden hammer thrown at my head and I’d had an egg the size of a golf ball in my forehead. My crime was I didn't stop what I was doing quick enough and he was making an 'example' of me. When my parents objected they were told that the teachers all agreed that ‘Billy Hay wasn’t beaten enough’ and that ‘his parents should beat him more’.  I lived in terror that year and didn’t so much want to run away from my home, where I knew my parents loved me, but from Canada.  I wanted to go to California but changed my mind. It was winter and I didn’t want to upset my mom and dad.  So I came home but my parents had contacted the police and they came in and talked to my dad.  I’d only been gone a few hours but it was winter in Canada and the adults knew a 16 or 17 year old kid might die alone in winter.  They cared in their own way.
But maybe only women are victims.  Maybe only feminist women are real victims.  Anally raped I wasn’t really raped because I wasn’t vaginally raped.  I never could be a victim with a woman. They had that all sewed up.   it was their “SPECIAL STATUS” and men weren’t going hone into their FRANCHISE or move in on their BRAND.
Still, maybe 99% of women are victims but what if maybe .00000000000001% aren’t.  That thought is still going to be the death of me.   I’ve already gone through so much ‘sensitivity training’. The doctors and men in general are forever getting told we're not good enough and that we're neanderthals and that we have to change.   It just hasn’t taken. I don't want to live anywhere where there are women and children.  I understand those adults only and especially those elder adults only living places because the old men just aren't safe today.   Like the Climate Change pseudoscientist position that ‘the consensus of scientists agree with the UN so this topic is closed and no one can question it or we’ll send them to jail’.  Huh?!
I’m just too radical.  “You are either with us or agin us” I”ve been told over and over again. “All or nothing’.  No maybe. No middle of the road.  All or nothing. YES or NO?
Lie, you idiot. Fuddle Duck,  say Fuddle Duck, my Liberal friends say. Lying always works for the left.  I just don't do it.  It's a character flaw.  I am truth teller.  I'm working on discernment. I'm trying desperately to avoid people and places where lying is the fashion.

3) Quebec - all my life Quebec has been the VICTIM.  Quebec and the French  ngrates have been telling me about their mistreatment since Waterloo and the Plains of Abraham.  All my life as an Western English Canadian I’ve been told that the French have “SPECIAL STATUS” and that I am am their victimizer.  Even after they got countless billions of dollars from Western English Canadians they bite the hand that feeds, threaten to leave and call us all stupid shits.  Fuck you English.
I have been required to learn French. I’ve paid for everything French and then one day in Montreal the French took down all the English signs.  There was no social justice in Quebec.  There was no level playing field.  Further as a Canadian I learned that I couldn’t get work in Quebec because my 12 years of high school French didn’t make my ‘language’ strong enough.  Further I was disenfranchised as a Western Canadian because I could never speak both languages well enough for the French ‘language police’.  Indeed I was never welcomed in any of the Federal government positions because I was ‘linguistically disabled’.  But this ‘disability’ was considered ‘offensive’ and ‘punishable’ and I suffered a great deal by being told I’d never be able to lead in Canada because my English accent ‘offended the ears of the Quebec’.  My St Boniface room mate was humiliated in Quebec by their ridiculing him for his St. Boniface accent.  If he, a fully bilingual person was to be inadequate there was little hope for me.
So maybe 99% of Quebec are victims, what about the .0001%?
3) Jews - Jews have always been victims as long as I’ve been on the planet.  AUSCHWITZ gave them pride of place.  And really I supported them and supporting my Jewish friends my life and my families life was threatened.  There is antisemeticsm.  But when a group of Jews were caught for theft and claimed that they were ‘victims of antisemiticism’  it seemed a bit far fetched.  And over time I saw that the Auschwitz Brand competed with the Rwanda Brand and the Cambodia Brand and the SUDAN brand.  This was a marketing issue not a humanitarian issue.  Then there was the day that the Israelis invaded a ship at sea and claimed they were the victims but I’m a sea captain. And I couldn’t really identify with the Israeli air gunships and machine guns because as a ship captain I identified with the ship captain whose ship was invaded by pirates.  So I had problems with Israelis as always the victims especially when I heard my Palestinian Christian tell me how her Christian people were persecuted.  So yes the Jews are victims 90% of the time but 10% of the time maybe not.  I was called ‘anti semiotic ‘ when I voiced this thought. So maybe 99% of the time and .001% maybe?
I remembered my wife shouting at me, “you will agree with me when I’m wrong’.  True, loyalty is important and we don’t need each other’s loyalty as much when we’re right.  Thankfully most of my jewish friends were moderates whatever that means to a Jew.  I suspect mostly I’m not considered a threat because I’m irrelevant.  My Jewish friend says he’s considered ‘irrelevant’ by the Jews that matter.  We are the marginalized but ‘we’re not allowed to be victims’.  We don’t get “SPECIAL STATUS” .  Victimship does get Special Status.  There is a major competition for ‘special status’ too because it’s not only lucrative but it’s powerful.
4)Indians/aboriginals/indigenous/first nations - all my life the aboriginals have been victims.  What more can I say.  White man is the oppressor of aboriginals though elsewhere black men oppressed the aboriginals and brown men and red yellow men oppressed the aboriginals as did red men oppress red men.  So while it’s ‘racist’ to single out the white man as the oppressor it’s acceptable for a black woman to oppress a brown man.  In Canada with it’s multiculturalism and liberalism all this wasn’t complicated but then it was.  With immigration the competition for victim status heated up.  Further the French , notorious oppressors of aboriginals, because they were oppressed didn’t have to deal with the issue of oppression till recently when it was recognized French Canadian men were indeed white and according to the Marxist play, white men rape women.  Now Quebec is an oppressor of aboriginals and the rising number of aboriginals and the increasing wealth of aboriginals makes them a major powerful lobby competitive with the Jewish Lobby, The Quebec Lobby and the Women Lobby.
I’ve never hit an Aboriginal.  My cousins are aboriginal.  I grew up defending aboriginals and have given millions of dollars of my time pro bono to aboriginals.  I’ve been threatened by aboriginals. Aboriginals tried to kill me when I was saving the life of an aboriginal.  When I tried to stop an aboriginal woman being raped in a back ally she shouted at me, “I’d rather be raped by an Indian than saved by a whitey”.  At that moment a group of guys ,aboriginal (we called them Indians back then) f came around the corner and I had to run for my life grabbing my girlfriend who’d said ‘aren’t you going to do something’ when we saw the girl being pushed down on the sidewalk.  Later she’d say, “why did you get  involved, you almost got me killed. You know how frightening that was for me.”
When an Indian was shooting at me screaming ‘kill the whitey’ one day and bullets were flying by my head because he mistakenly thought I was on aboriginal land when I shot a grouse I didn’t feel like a victimizer.But maybe his great great grandfather was victimized by someone else's great great grandfather and I was getting the hand me downs.  My great great grandfathers were getting the shit kicked out of them by the English in Ireland or Culloden.  But no one can mention Culloden. Irish Slaves and Culloden don't fit the PC Narrative.
But other than my Metis cousins, despite helping countless natives for decades,  I’ve always had the uncanny feeling that natives would not help me. Indeed I have challenged my native friends about how they only beg and demand for themselves and never help others. I’ve pointed out that Jews help all manner of underdogs as I myself have.  My French Canadian room mate would have given his life to protect me.  With the Jews I expect that there may be an element of Marxist wisdom in keeping perpetual warfare going so they as a minority group can take advantage of the never ending war.  The women I've always helped seemed to take it as 'entitlement'.  I've given fortunes to women and they've always just laughed at what a sucker men are.  My mother loved me more than anyone and my aunts were jewels so I really should be thankful.  I've had great female friends.
Other Jewish and Muslem and secular friends, the physician and psychiatrist friends , are just as stupid as me . We admit we’d take a bullet out of Jesus, Mohammed, Hitler and Stalin and Obama and Justin Trudeau and Nixon and Buddha.  We’re an indiscriminate lot as physicians and none of my friends who aren’t physicians understand why I’m so concerned that the Bahrain doctors were imprisoned for treating partisans and non partisans.  It challenges my fundamental belief system and makes me wonder if I became a doctor because we never have to choose sides. But today all countries are targeting the red cross and in Vancouver the rioters attacked the ambulances.  So I m beginning to think that doctors and nurses need to be issued hand guns because increasingly we’re being attacked.   I've been threatened with guns and knives and struck in my office or at the hospital. I’ve been attacked a half dozen times in my work and never have the authorities cared. They’re in rank denial about the danger of the front line care givers  all the while they cowardly stay as far as humanly possible from the real work and heavy lifting of front line medicine and surgery.Beaurocrats in general lead from behind.  Like the Communists who shot the soldiers from behind to get them to go forward.  Corporate ship captains these days are demanding to be the first to leave their sinking ships.
So I don’t know, it’s just that I now know Aboriginal Millionaires.  My aboriginal lawyer friend is arrogant, obnoxious,  pompous and vengeful.  Meanwhile my aboriginal leader friend with countless grandchildren had two of his houses burned  down by his own people but is as close to Martin Luther as anyone I know, a truly loving peaceful quiet elder . His successes have helped so many aboriginal people he’s become envied by those he helped. The TALL POPPY syndrome is very much alive in Canada.
It still seems  though that while 99% of aboriginals are victims maybe .0001% aren’t.
5) Blacks;   I grew up with all manner of immigrants around.  Mom and Dad travelled and befriended people from other countries. So our friendship network included poles, ukranians, filipinos,  blacks,  chinese, catholics,even, jews, americans, just about anyone who was competent.  If you worked and weren’t a ’shirker’ you were alright with the family.  Part of that was being Baptist.  There was only one Jew and one black person and one chinese person in my neighbourhood growing up.   As protestants we thought the Catholics were the ‘other’.  If someone accused my Irish mother of being “Caholicphobic’ they’d be right on because Grandad was an orange man and he’d left Ireland because he got tired of Catholics blowing things up.  He came to Canada because it was peace fl.Then the Immigrants brought their wars with them. And the East Indians blew up the Canadian air plane.  Dukabors burnt down houses. Dad just shook his head and said the people should leave their wars behind.
My friend is black.  He’s an American Canadian immigrant.  He loves Canada.  When he talks about the Southern States he’s pretty angry. I’ve never thought he thinks I’m white. I’ve only started thinking about him as Black when I began getting called RACIST for questioning Muslim Syrians being fast tracked to Canada with all the evidence of riots in Europe, hundreds of women attacked in Cologne, the Muslim pedophila rings in Britain and the Angry Muslem men in Eastern Canada shouting at Canadians about their right to have sex with 9 yo girls while the LIBERALS are supporting SHARIA LAW courts for Muslems to complement the ABORIGINAL COURTS for aboriginals. I didn't even think of the Syrians as a 'race'.  I certainly wasn't Islamophobe because I've never had anything but admiration for the Sufi's. A couple of my greatest mentors were Egyptian.  They were psychiatrists. I might have thought less of them if they were surgeons but I never thought of them as 'other'.
I know some really rich and important black people in Canada and they don’t seem like Victims to me.  I suppose EVERY MINORITY IS A VICTIM according to PC but I just don’t see it individually.  The richest family in Canada is apparently Scottish but individually he’s not personally helped me though I accept I’ve been blessed to have been born in Canada. I'm eternally grateful that I wasn't born elsewhere. Being a Toronto Maple Leaf fan I was abused for years and only became accepted in the sporting world when I moved to Vancouver and started supporting the Canucks.  The fact is black hasn’t been part of my world except for a couple of black friends. I’ve never fought a black . I grew up with a black doctor who was the best doctor a boy could have when he was desperately sick.  I just missed out on the black thing. The media is full of blacks that sure haven't missed out on the white thing. The white thing is all they seem to talk about.  I have to admit I really like the Black guys called the Black criminals and wankers on their shit.  Like the one guy who said 'how can it help the black people if black people take every opportunity to have a riot so they can break into black people's stores and steal their cvs'.  Reason doesn't affect the irrational emotional sensationalist PC Leftist crowd. They don't listen to anything but their VICTIM mantras.
It also doesn’t mean that complete  strangers don’t call me “RACIST WHITE SHIT” all the time not even knowing me.
And I’ve put my time , my money and my work into helping people regardless of race and as a physician I’m poor today because I worked with the poor and marginalized.  You get rich by being a doctor to the rich. it’s not rocket science. The richest doctors are the cosmetic plastic surgeons because they don’t help the sick, they help the rich and well.  Doc Holiday might well do a little work in a burn unit but the money is where the rich and powerful and well are.  I’ve always worked in the dark alleys of this world with the needy.  That doesn’t count at all.It certainly doesn't pay.
Activists are a special group like journalists and critics in general.  They are above looking at facts. They just talk and make money off criticizing everyone.  I’ve lost money off helping people . I did years of pro bono work only to be condemned time and again in the rich Canadian courts for helping people who the courts clearly wanted to be denied ‘their day in the courts’.  Journalists have attacked me for my pro bono work helping women in recovery.  Whole columns have been written against me for years of pro bono work.  I’ve been condemned by my colleagues even for helping schizophrenics.  R.D. Laing the great defender of Schizophrenics was pilloried by his society.  It’s not new.
If you stand up you make yourself a target. I know I'm not alone too.  Just stupider than my colleagues.
If you are a ‘good samaritan’ in Canada you are running a risk of being destroyed along with those you help.  When you get to heaven , St. Peter asks you, “show me your scars’.  If you have none, he says, “didn’t you find anyone or anything worth fighting for.  Didn’t you learn how to love.”
So again, I ask what if 99% of Blacks are perfect and only .00001% are maybe questionable.  And then if there is a bad black like Idi Amin, say a black man is a murdering rapist, do I have to call him a RADICAL BLACK to be politically correct?  And like, duh, the Queen of England and Canada is a woman and Obama is black. He’s the President of the most powerful country in history.So they're victims right, and because I'm a poor old white guy I'm the bad guy, right.?   I just want to know if I've got this straight.
 6) Gays, Lesbians, Transexual, Non Binary, Transvestites - I’m a male transvestite. I wear kilts and have even worn gowns but w’ere persecuted as perverts. My strictly gay friends are now ‘accepted’ victims’ . Gays and Lesbians have higher special status in the Sexual Victim Registry with the Transexuals vying desperately to catch up and get the same perks but it still happens that Transwomen are rejected by the biological women and transmen by the the biological men and both by gays and lesbians.  But the transvestites they’re ridiculous. They're Monty Python and Benny Hill material.
When I got dressed up for the famous Vancouver ball, a group of men , drove down Davie street shouting obscenities and threats  at all of us.  I felt really vulnerable in high heels and felt a lot of sympathy for women then.  Men dressed as women. Women dressed as men that night.   It’s a very funny charity fund raiser.   The drag queen ball.  I’ve also done the Rocky Horror Picture show in lingerie with my toilet roll ready in my hand.   I do dress up for Halloween too and wore a diaper once but mostly preferred pirate attire. All women in the west are Transvestites.  Still when I put on a kilt for Robby Burns night I get asked by Asians, “why are men dressing like women tonight.?”  So as a tainted heterosexual , once raped . you are an outsider. At best  you get to be a bisexual.  Then bisexuals are the most outside in the sexual world, not homosexual enough or heterosexual enough and thoroughly stigmatized.  Asexual isn’t too good either since the priests ruined it for the monks and hermits.    Wanker is the most acceptable slur today. Calling a person a masturbator is still fair game.  I’ve been called every sexually negative word by someone sometime and never has it related to sex.  When my ATV was stolen, the thief said,  “Of course I stole the homos’s ATV” Of course the police and courts didn’t do anything because ‘sexual status’ isn’t quite there yet as I learned helping AIDS patients.  In a game of Victim STATUS chess the lowest one is still a pedophile. But all the other sexual deviants including the S&M crowd are fair game. The SODOMITES are a particularly bad lot. And watching Porn of any kind still costs men their jobs all the time, but women can watch erotica.  50 Shades of Grey, a more disgusting book than any Penthouse letters ever was is okay because the billionaire has his lawyers get the virgin to sign a consent form before he whisks her off in his helicopter.
But what if we agreed 99% of the perverts are saints is it possible that .000001% of this group could be wrong maybe once? Maybe once.
7) Immigrants - My grandfather’s and grandmother’s were immigrants and I didn’t hear them ever whine about Canada.  They were critical about the British Empire but would have fought as Canadians if called up to do so. Certainly my father joined the Royal Canadian Air Force and served in World War II as a bombardier.  He was scared he told me but never shot at.  He was scared of the stupidity of the officers and the things that were expected of soldiers.  He described a few occasions when he nearly died doing something that looked good on a map but didn’t take into account ravines and cliffs and such. Military ’timelines’ were myths that humans were expected to be superhuman to meet for the sake of officers who were good and bad.  Dad’s most important lesson he learned in the military he said, was “Never Volunteer’.  His best camaraderie though was with ex service men or the men he worked with.
Canada is a country of immigrants. All my life I’ve been surrounded by immigrants. Even though my best friends have been French Canadians and other Immigrant Canadians, I’m called XENOPHOBIC and RACIST constantly simply  because I question our immigration board letting in a 3 time  drug dealer murderer from Cuba who has done time in Cuban and US Jails and tells me he thought the people he killed needed killing.  I wonder what this guy is doing in Canada. When I ask this question i'm called a XENOPHOBE.  The scares even me and I’m attacked for asking the question.  Really, verbally attacked.
Always my ‘license to practice medicine’ is threatened whenever I say anything ‘POLITICALLY INCORRECT”.  Where physicians were once the voice of reason in politics now all my colleagues, all those I know, say, “I can’t afford to get involved in politics. The College of Physicians and Surgeons would have my license.”  “Look what happened to…….and the list goes on”.
The beauorocratic attack politically is never direct. it’s always indirect. The COMMUNISTS were the best. When I was with the Psychiatrists against Political Abuse of Psychiatry, I learned how the game worked.  It’s standard operating procedure in guerrilla warfare.  “FIND SOME DIRT ON HIM and if you can’t find dirt on her, make it up”.
But I’m tired of defending my Grandfather and Grandmother as immigrants. The issue was never about immigration.  Pierre Trudeau changed the laws regarding immigration to discourage the ‘needed’ immigrants and encourage those who were sick   My black doctor friend said, “I only came to Canada because my parents  needed dialysis.  We wanted to go to the states but we couldn’t afford to pay for dialysis. That’s why all my friends came to Canada because they have sick or disabled family who were costing them too much in our country.  Now as a doctor here myself I can’t appreciate that the free health care system means I get paid very little and pay exorbitant taxes. In the end it’s better than where I came from."
8) Vegetarians/Anti Vaccers/Scent Senstives…etc etc…etc.
I am a hunter and a fisherman. I was a strict vegetarian for years and then an egg and fish guy then an egg fish and fowl guy then a bloody moose ,venison and bear loving Canadian who is the scum of the earth because while I’ve shot my food with a bow, shoot deer with bow and arrow, and hunted pigs with spears (scariest thing I’ve done;the pigs all got away and I ran away) I’m the enemy of all. I’m the evil one.  I’m a chicken killer.  All those whose families have ever in the history of the world, in all 100,000 years who have ever eaten meat are suspect and abusing the poor vegetarians and their pure food diet people.  I’m to be outlawed. The stigma against me is so great that I have to pay a fortune for the rifles I own and have been put in special registry of dirty bad Canadians who are watched 24/7 by the law because they are evil.  Anyone who has killed an animal is SATAN.  The poor vegetarians are victimized by our presence in their midst. They line up on streets showing pictures of chickens being killed.  I noticed they’re wearing leather and things like that but that just inflames them .  I been spat on by people who have told me that ‘people like you need to be killed so the plants can live’.  I say I’m killing the deer to save the plants and they look at me with disdain and chant ‘killer killer killer’.  Vegetarians are holy.

The fact is I find it hard to kill animals and when I raised chickens I found it really  hard to kill the chickens I raised.  I don’t even like killing fish.  But then I felt sentimental about pulling up carrots.  I am a big sissy and I’ve been called a sissy countless times.  I’ve been called a killer and a sissy and an old white guy and all manner of horrible hate names. These are just the english terms.  I’m sometimes interested in what I overhead when two people were pointing at me and calling me something as I was walking by. Just walking down the street in Canada or some other country, and much to my surprise,s I’ve looked up the word and I’ve learned that there are countless words in other languages that translate roughly to something like ‘nigger’ would in our english language. But it’s okay for people to use those words , words like ‘smuck’ or ‘round eyes’ but it’s not okay if they’re translated. My French friend told me just some of the french canadian "hate language"words for the English. Oddly they seemed to have some religious slur thrown in. But the vegetarians seem to get all the venom needed in ‘meat eater’.
I guess ‘cannibal’ doesn’t need a lot of dressing on it.  If my neighbour ate my child and I was trying to be wholly inclusive and avoiding hate speech I might slur ‘cannibal’ at them even knowing the ‘PC speech police’ might not care if the guy ate my kid but certainly would be there to arrest me for saying ‘cannibal’.If I didn't want to go to jail, I'd have to remember to say something like "YOU RADICAL CANNIBAL!"
Oddly my Immigrant vegetarian friends don’t care that I eat meat. It’s only the white Canadian female vegetarians from wealthy families with private school education that have called me filthy names for being a meat eater and objecting to them blocking the sidewalk with their demonstration and signs.  A lot of my life I’m just trying to get to and from my work as a physician and I have to go through all this drama and I’m tired. I broke up a fight once between three white guys and three black guys in front of my apartment and then all six of them were going to beat me up. I’ve had all these white girls angry with me because I just want to walk down the street and they’re angry I’m not caring for the chickens they’re holding up pictures about.  it didn’t help that I told them I killed Bambi to protect the vegetables.    I know I’m wrong. I know I’m the source of all evil in the world.  My ex wives made it very clear that I’m the source of all evil.  I am a total and utter failure .  So I understand why vegetarians would hate me. But…..all ….100%.
But what if 99% of vegetarians and all the other folk are   right, is it possible maybe  that .00001% are wrong?  Maybe?
8) Refugees.  One of my favourite psychiatrist friends came as a refugee. My first wife came as a refugee.  Obviously I love refugees.  I love that people who are persecuted in their country can come here. I love that my refugee friends who  lvoe Canada and compare Canada so favourably with their country of persecution.
I’ve helped countless refugees.
I’ve raised an eyebrow though when increasingly ‘political refugees’ who have come to Canada because their lives were in danger in their country once they get citizen status and are on disability return to their country. It happens more and more and has caused me some concern.  There have been reasonable explanations. Regimes have changed.  It’s all above board most of the time but occasionally it’s the  DISABILITY INDUSTRY that has attracted patients who turn out later not to be ‘at risk’ in their country.  But one bad apple…… They’re rare in the range of things though I’ve noticed that the Canadian government doesn’t rectify matters when these same people turn out to be doing a variety of criminal activities here.  They seem to have SPECIAL STATUS.
Increasingly as a Canadian I’ve thought ‘if i did that’ I’d be arrested.
But I know of no country where an Immigrant of a minority religion gets to be the MINISTER OF DEFENCE.  We have Mr. Singh and we had Dr. Hedy Fry who I campaigned for and yet travelling around the world I notice no CANADIAN Immigrant to other countries being made Minister of Defence. I know of no Muslim Country where a Christian could be Minister of Defence. I know too that Syria had a law that said ‘only a Muslim could be President”.  Further, travelling I found that there were restrictions on foreigners buying land all over the world and so many restrictions to me as an immigrant.  Mexico our friendly neighbour even had restrictions against me as a Canadian.
The whole idea of ‘fair play’ or ‘what’s good for the goose is good for the gander’ or ‘level playing field’ or ‘equal opportunity’ are all meaningless to a whole lot of people of other religions and nationalities. I begin to worry playing soccer doesn't teach people to be good sports like playing hockey does.
When I questioned the decision to have ‘25000 refugees’ brought into Canada  in a month because of political showboating and suddenly we were going to accept refugees from a country who were the allies not of our ally America, but rather of our former enemy Russia, and were of a religion that promoted death to infidels (Christians, Secularists, and Canadians in general) I expressed my heart felt ‘fear” . In stead of being told ‘we understand your fear’ I was called a RACIST.  "I was called an Islamophobe" (It was as bad as when I questioned yet another tax , the CARBON TAX, a tax on breathing, on top of all the taxes we already pay as Canadians and how useless the government increasingly is, having multi million dollar parties and giving billions of dollars to the UN, I was called a CLIMATE CHANGE DENIER>  i.e. "YOU're Psychotic!!! to question more Taxation by your Liberal Good Government.  I
 was lied to by my leadership and was attacked verbally in the most offensive way.  Indeed I was threatened.  I continue to be called RACIST and XENOPHOBIC.  People tell me to get the fuck out of Canada if you don't like Justin Trudeau and his plan to bring in hundreds of thousands of immigrants willy nilly at billions of dollars cost when all day long I see homeless people and can't get supplies for my patients and haven't any resources and am chronically tired of saying no to patients who can't understand why they've paid for services and can't get anything.  
(Now Canada has a history of having had refugees and immigrant women from the Congo.  These Muslem women were sent to Canada by their warlord husbands.  Each husband had 4 to 10 wives. The men sent their wives here to collect disability.  The women collected disability here and sent 9/10 of the money back to the Congo.  American soldiers wondering who was paying for the ammunition which the Muslim terrorists were shooting at them found out that the CANADIAN GOVERNMENT was Paying for the AMMUNITION and Weapons to supply terrorists by this little African muslim women's scam).
Having lived in America I know that the terrorists that attacked America came through Canada so I have some anxiety.
I was bombed when I lived in London by the IRA. I evacuated buildings a dozen times. My life was often threatened.  My wife was caught in a bomb blast.  Her face was torn up by flying glass. She cried in her sleep.  We were scared. Our parents wanted us to come home because it was so dangerous.  A plane I was boarding was found to have a terrorist on board. I’ve had my close calls.  I’m not known for crying wolf.
But when I expressed concern I was condemned.  I was called a RACIST. I was called countless obscenities.
I recently was called IGNORANT.  I was called UNEDUCATED.  I WAS CALLED WHITE.  I WAS CALLED OLD MAN.  The number of slurs and character assassinations and hate speech directed at me in the last few months is incredible.  And though I never ‘started’ any of these visious violent interchanges I might well have contributed to their escalation.  As a Christian I’m taught to ‘turn my cheek 70 times 70 times so I keep count and when the right number pops up I confess I do take a certain delight in retaliating which I recognize is a character flaw but I’ve also found that bullies will bully until you hit back.
An Israeli leader just got in deep shit saying that the only thing that stops a muslim terrorist is the threat to rape their daughter. Naturally as an isralei in the world of real politick he’s probably had the life of his daughter threatened. RAPE is indeed a recognized act of war in the history.  The RAPE of the SABINES wasn’t at all sexist but biological. By ‘raping the wives of your defeated’ you could ensure that they had a generation delay in the production of another army.  But SEXISTS only see rape through their discrete lens i.e. about women.  Boys and men have been raped in the past too but they don’t count.  Still it’s all ‘barbaric’ but when Mr. Harper tried to stop the genital mutilation of children with his law against ‘barbaric practices’ he was condemned a dirty old white man despite the law being proposed by  muslim and  hindu canadian woman.
The fact is a REFUGEE is a VICTIM all the time.
I have this problem because when I was in italy the refugees who were attacking girls there were former soldiers from Africa.  I got mugged and called an‘INFIDEL” as my cross was torn from my neck by a muslim gang, ex military. The Greeks were incensed at the Afghanistan and Iraqi young men attacking Christians and stealing their silver and gold crosses to sell because they didn’t care for the wider ramifications these attacks had on the Greek Tourist trade.  So my friend who rescues ’snakes’ says that no one wants to put money into saving ‘reptiles’ but the SPCA has a booming trade in cuddly kittens, puppies and bunnies.  Sentimentalism and Emotional Reasoning reign.
 But to even question if a refugee might be a psychopath is to break the rules. This is despite the fact that we have major crime problems in Vancouver because of Immigrant or Refugee TONG Gang Members from the East and Russian Gangsters from the west.  To even suggest that a Middle East refugee might be a serial murderer or a serial rapist or GOD FORBID, Isis or a Jihadist, may get you arrested.  Justin Trudeau was more angry with a refugee being pepper sprayed than he was when Canadians living here were murdered by terrorists. He certainly didn't get very concerned about police being killed.  There’s that double standard.
But what if 99% of refugees are saints  and only .0001% of refugees are dangerous psychopaths, is that reason for concern.  Or should we be, claiming we want to hear from all Canadians,  but shut up any Canadian who expresses ‘fear’ and ‘anxiety’.  I heard once that a woman being raped was criticized for screaming. Ironic because we're normally condemned for not screaming.
An American soldier told me that a beaurocratic message had been sent round advising the soldiers to remember that they may be being filmed when they are wounded and that profanities negatively affect the war effort. So don’t say ‘fuck’ when you are shot, please.
Don’t you just love POLITICAL CORRECTNESS!. We can all kill and maim and lie and cheat just as long as we maintain the proper grammar, speak with proper sentences, wear suits, smile that lizard like way.
I’ve helped countless refugees get into Canada. I’ve done thousands of dollars of ‘volunteer’ ‘pro bono’ work for refugees getting them the letters and referrals needed for them to get resources and assistance they need.
So maybe 99% of refugees are perfect but what about that .0001%.
____________________
I don’t know where it stops.
As a Christian I’m taught that I must ‘get down off the cross, we can use the wood’.  There’s a song, ‘were you there when they crucified the lord’ and it teaches us that we weren’t just spectators but that we were shoving the spear in his side. That’s the message of Sinners.
It’s a joke when the therapists did ‘past life regression’ therapy and the hypnotists looked at ‘past lives’.  Everyone was Cleopatra or some King or Queen.  But no one was Hitler or Stalin or Jack the Ripper.  It’s just ‘not nice’.
Now some of the SPECIAL STATUS ‘victims’ are Christians too so I wonder ‘what their part was in killing Jesus’ because as Christian’s we are taught to believe that we are all Sinners.  Even Peter denied Jesus.  In the history of Martyrs all one generally had to do was say, alright I’ll worship the Emperor. Okay the lions don’t get fed with a Christian today, The same with witch trials .  Mostly people just had to say, okay I’m a witch and they didn’t get burnt.  The big problem is the truth tellers and those inflexible sorts that won’t lie.  Jesus, they are a royal pain in the ass. Personally, I’m not a very good Christian because I don’t think I’d insist I was if one of my friends or family were threatened. Hell, threaten my dog and I’m jelly.  I know because my cat was killed when I took a stand against something earlier in my life.I regretted what I had done. It didn't seem to warrant the death of my cat.  She was an innocent and I couldn't protect her.
The problem arises for me today is the HIERARCHY OF SPECIAL STATUS.  If a brown refugee man rapes a jewish aboriginal women which counts more especially if one is from Quebec and one is from Western Canada and both have a history of drug abuse and lying but the judge is a Liberal or an atheist, whose the more victim.
It’s just incredibly confusing for me.  I really don’t know what the law is any more.  I know ‘thou shalt not kill’ but even ‘innocent until proven guilty’ is gone in Canada because everyone’s lives are ruined with only the accusation and then FACEBOOK gossip columns do the rest.

Finally I’m suffering from a disease which makes me tend to be prone to self pity.  I spend all day convincing myself life is good.  I do prayer and meditation and force myself daily to see that the glass is half full or all full.  Hell I know that the problem is me.  My friend Milton, a marvellous black Christian used to tell me he had a sentence on his mirror that said “you’re looking at the problem’.
So I know that.  Justin Trudeau is probably Jesus Christ incarnate.  Obama is probably Einstein.  Putin is for sure Mother Mary. I love Leonard Cohen.  I am the KY Jelly.
But I know I’m not supposed to think like this, especially now.  I am warned by the threats and the verbal abuse.
It’s just every day I want to run away from Canada because I don’t belong here.  I have no home.  I sailed away once and it was good.  More and more people come to me agoraphobic and social phobic. The number of people who are anxious is incredible.  Everyone I know is afraid to talk openly now.
I loved when my Indian friend told me ‘we all had to learn to whisper’ .
Now I’ve been told to leave Canada. That I’m not a Canadian.  Every time Justin Trudeau or a liberal speaks for Canadians I know they’re not speaking for me so I’m utterly and fully excluded.  So I really want to leave. I’m tired of the hate speech.  I’m so tired of AD HOMINEMs.  I’m so very tired of being told I’m IGNORANT, UNEDUCATED, STUPID, SEXIST, ISLAMAPHOBE, RACIST, WHITE and OLD and the names go on and on. I could take it but not when the leader of the country and his leading party and his followers are constantly calling me names anytime I disagree with something they say.  I spend all day dealing with people who I tell that they’re better than the names they’re called. I am all day long hearing people talk about their abuse in this country. Then I go to FACEBOOK and I hear it all night.
I thought to make a job of it.  I try to give it back .  You hit me. I hit you back.
But I’m just too tired.

FACE BOOK doesn’t want me.
CANADA doesn’t want me.  I’ve been told too many times to Fuck off .  Get out of Canada. If you don’t like it leave.  It’s where I was born.  No other country wants CANADIANS.  I can’t claim refugee status in any other country.  Most of Africa won’t have me because I’m a wanker.  Blacks don’t masturbate or have sex with other men or women with women so most black countries kill people like me who admit to it.  Muslim countries don’t want Christians.  Buddhist countries don’t want Christians.  Everyone thinks that as a doctor I should be able to go anywhere but it’s not like that. There are barriers to doctors all over the world. I have a dog.  Dogs are discriminated against everywhere in Canada and as a dog owner I’m discriminated everywhere in churches, in AA meetings, in stores.  The only reason I’m willing to go to heaven is they take dogs.  Generally I’ve learned too that if a place doesn’t want my dog they’re eventually going to hurt me.  It was even better when I had my cat.  Generally speaking people who don’t like pets don't like pet owners and don’t like me.  Weird. I have fish too.  It’s too much baggage so no one wants me.  The Landlords hate us and no one cares about us but we don’t have any SPECIAL STATUS. I pay more in all the hotels and I”m excluded everywhere even though my dog is a THERAPY DOG.
So I don’t know where to go.  Somedays I just don’t go out. I’m afraid to talk to people because I might say something that might offend them. I lived with wives who were depressed and everything I said offended them so now I’m in a country where I’m feeling like those last years when their parents had died and they were depressed and everything I did was offensive and I spent years walking on egg shells until I accepted I was the problem and ran away.  I’m always running away.  Soon all I’ll have to run away to death but that’s okay.Death looks better than Canada some days.  Especially if Heaven is like Mark Twain's Captain Stormfield's heaven.
I’m a dinosaur. I’m extinct.
I don’t have a SPECIAL STATUS category. I can’t even complain about being bullied.
I don’t even have a country any more. I’m not a Canadian.  CANADIANS don’t think like I do.
Reminds me of when Paul Simon wrote the song about ‘going off to look for America’.  I guess that’s what I m going to have to do soon.
I miss my sailboat.  Sometimes I could find Canada standing by the mast smashing through big waves heeled over in a storm.  Sometimes I found Canada riding on my motorcycle through the mountains.  It’s been raining for days. Maybe when the tulips come back I’ll get some hope. Maybe even have some faith.
It just seems bleak.  Life is suffering unto death, Kierkegaard said.But he was Dutch.  He never was a Canadian.