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Above: A CAPP billboard. Photo from flickr user Peterblanchard.

Across Canada, ads from the Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers are appearing on billboards, bus shelters, television sets, cinema screens, and the pages of newspapers and magazines. These ads, to say the least, are bullshit: They characterize a massive campaign of misinformation and an attempt to green-wash the single most environmentally destructive project on the planet. Most of these ads use the same strategy. Reassuring messages are superimposed over images of pristine landscapes, which are often unrelated to the Tar Sands – or which are planned for mining and have not yet been transformed by developers into permanent, toxic moonscapes. Other billboards, similar to the one above, claim “Every Drop of Water Counts” or “Clean Air is Essential.” Without contrary information these ads paint CAPP as responsible and caring – but what if they were actually honest?

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Above: St. James Park from overhead during the Occupy Toronto Occupation. Image from blogto.com

In the most recent issue of Maisonneuve, Occupy Toronto insider Paul Gettlich offers an adept history of the temporary micro-society which famously fomented in St. James Park during OT’s month-long occupation. The feature, entitled “Anatomy of an Occupation,” recaptures the unique atmosphere of chaos and political exuberance that characterized life in the OT encampment, focusing in particular on the challenge of self-regulation faced by OT activists. As the encampment increasingly became home to society’s most marginal elements, including the homeless and the mentally ill, it became plagued by substance abuse and occasional fits of violence.

An excerpt:

“Occupy Wall Street had taken root in Manhattan’s Zuccotti Park a month earlier, but it quickly spread across the globe, with some one thousand tent cities flowering from Halifax to Hong Kong. Each protest site is plagued by a slew of external and internal pests. Riot cops. Infiltrators. Mass arrests. Rubber bullets. Groupthink. Infighting. Truthers. Tasers. The movement—which claims to represent 99 percent of society—has one particularly great challenge. It occupies spaces that are often already occupied: city parks where the homeless, the mentally ill and the addicted congregate. Over two hundred tents quickly pockmark St. James Park, and both groups—protesters and drifters alike—must learn to coexist. In a city where Mayor Rob Ford was elected, a year earlier, on a platform of privatizing social services, a petri dish of dystopia evolves at the Occupy encampment. But so does the group’s ability to internally adapt, to govern and police the wide array of problems it faces.

Some volunteers, referred to as marshals, are originally trained to guide marches and supervise protests. But as more problems arise, their role changes into something resembling a non-violent security detail. Many of them disappear when the temperature drops and more malcontents arrive. In the third week of October, the hardcore marshals—who camp in the park or live in the area—organize into two groups. The Street Team deals with the homeless and drug users. The Greeting Committee identifies potential troublemakers when they first arrive and explains how things work in the park: no violence. Easier said than done; after all, no one in the 99 percent is excluded. That week, as if on cue, more and more self-proclaimed prophets, meth heads, crack peddlers and alcoholics embed themselves in the camp. Fights start erupting. A late October cold snap is about to break.”

Whereas Paul Gettlich’s approach is narrative and historical, retelling the event of encampment from start to finish, Noah Gataveckas, over at Civilized Discontent, returns to St. James Park six months after the eviction and details, in ideological terms, the city’s official effort to deny the park its history, to re-sod the grass, and to eradicate all traces of the occupation, leaving behind the message that nothing interesting ever happened there.

An excerpt:

“The homeless who filled this park … embodied capitalism’s stain: they gave presence to its contradictions, its inherent failings in a verifiable, concrete way. All someone had to do was take a walk through the park and they would see the 21st century new norm of neo-feudalism: the castles of finance capital had suddenly been surrounded by the lumpen rabble, such that no one could pretend any longer that the good old days of late 20th century capitalism were still in effect. We had entered the Age of Austerity, a retro throwback to the Great Depression. On the outside, people walked around, repressing well and acting like Clinton was still in office or some shit. Meanwhile, inside the perimeter of the zone, souls were getting a sneak peak at what’s to come, which is what has already arrived for millions around the world in the form of new social relations that are bound through the ties of destitution, unemployment, and poverty.”

Both articles are well worth a read. Check out Paul Gettlich’s “Anatomy of an Occupation” over at Maisonneuve, and “Recalling the St. James Occupy at 6 Months” by Noah Gataveckas at Civilized Discontent.

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A day after students from Quebec took plastic bullets to their heads and faces in their continuing struggle against a 75% tuition hike, the youth of Toronto broke free of their perennial apathy and took to the streets with dissident clamour!

Actually, that isn’t quite what happened.

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Above: Wall Street’s bull monument.

ARCHITECTURE. – Architecture is the expression of the true nature of societies, as physiognomy is the expression of the nature of individuals. However, this comparison is applicable, above all, to the physiognomy of officials (prelates, magistrates, admirals). In fact, only society’s ideal nature – that of authoritative command and prohibition – expresses itself in actual architectural constructions. Thus great monuments rise up like dams, opposing a logic of majesty and authority to all unquiet elements; it is in the form of cathedrals and palaces that church and state speak to and impose silence upon the crowds. Indeed, monuments obviously inspire good social behaviour and often even genuine fear. The fall of the Bastille is symbolic of this state of things. This mass movement is difficult to explain otherwise than by popular hostility toward monuments, which are their veritable masters.

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Emperor Haute Couture by Margaret SutherlandAbove: Emperor Haute Couture by Margaret Sutherland. Oil on Canvas, 60 x 36 inches, 2011.

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More photos after the break.

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Above: David Holzman’s Diary demonstrates how TV works.

The above clip from David Holzman’s Diary demonstrates the functioning of a television set and why it is so effective. We can consciously (or cynically) disavow what we see, float in and out of attentiveness, or change the channel – but as in the above clip, the raw effect of television is to impress thousands of carefully curated images upon the brain. By showing television in its reduced form, this clip demonstrates the futility of conscious engagement with the medium.

Beyond offering this insight into television, David Holzman’s Diary is a classic of media criticism. It marks the inauguration of the mock-documentary genre, appearing as a novelty in1967. The film draws into question the assumption of objectivity that accompanied the cinema verité documentary movement. It concerns a New York filmmaker who, ironically sensing a disconnection from reality, decides to film everything in his life. As such, the film consists of diary passages in which David Holzman opens up to his camera, or alternatively ventures out into the public sphere. It mixes staged narrative passages with pure observational cinema, in the spirit of New York street photography.

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In light of tonight’s Academy Awards ceremony, here is a review of an Academy Award winning film from an earlier competition. It should serve as a reminder that the 94% white, 77% male Academy, 86% of whom are over 50 years old, are in no way tethered to reality.

The Blind Side, racism, and money as the solution to everything.

Overflowing with stereotypes and racist assumptions, The Blind Side is a recent film with Academy Award recognition to spew forth derogatory ideals. It recycles the plot of Douglas Sirk’s Imitation of Life (another academy award nominated film) wherein a sympathetic white lady ‘saves’ and adopts an impoverished black person into a position of economic dependence.

In the case of Imitation of Life, an aspiring white movie starlet saves a black mother and her daughter by employing the mother as a maid. In The Blind Side, Michael ‘Big Mike’ Oher (Quinton Aaron) is ‘saved’ by the unwavering generosity of an unreasonably wealthy suburban housewife named Leigh Anne Tuohy (Sandra Bullock).

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Above: The Recording Industry Association of America is comprised of the world’s biggest record labels.

TL;DR Version:
Musician and recording engineer Steve Albini lays his teeth into the music recording industry in his now famous rant “The Problem With Music”. Originally published in The Baffler in 1993, the article breaks down the expenses and income of an up-and-coming band signed to a major record label, and demonstrates how industry contracts are designed to rob musical talent in favour of superflous managerial types – “producers,” “distributors,” etc. Written in 1993, the numbers Albini provides are long outdated – the contract type, however, is still standard within both the recording industry and the film industry. In the wake of SOPA, PIPA, ACTA, and other invasive copyright initiatives, Albini’s argument is another nail in the coffin of dying, money-hungry entertainment giants: piracy only robs those who rob the producers of culture.

The Problem With Music
by Steve Albini

Whenever I talk to a band who are about to sign with a major label, I always end up thinking of them in a particular context. I imagine a trench, about four feet wide and five feet deep, maybe sixty yards long, filled with runny, decaying shit. I imagine these people, some of them good friends, some of them barely acquaintances, at one end of this trench. I also imagine a faceless industry lackey at the other end, holding a fountain pen and a contract waiting to be signed.

Nobody can see what’s printed on the contract. It’s too far away, and besides, the shit stench is making everybody’s eyes water. The lackey shouts to everybody that the first one to swim the trench gets to sign the contract. Everybody dives in the trench and they struggle furiously to get to the other end. Two people arrive simultaneously and begin wrestling furiously, clawing each other and dunking each other under the shit. Eventually, one of them capitulates, and there’s only one contestant left. He reaches for the pen, but the Lackey says, “Actually, I think you need a little more development. Swim it again, please. Backstroke.”

And he does, of course.

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Above: Thot Bot.

Blob Ford

Above: Blob Ford.

More photos of Toronto street art and public interventions after the break.

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