a wolf angel is not a good angel

I’m thinking it would be fun to foster kittens, though I am also thinking I should wait a bit because I have unscreened windows and leave the back door open (Matilda refuses to leave the balcony but likes to sit out there), something that wouldn’t happen in the winter. But first I’m researching it, and I found — to my utmost shock — that Stephen Harper has fostered cats while in Ottawa. Stephen Harper! Pictures of him in 24 Sussex with foster kittens! (This is obviously news I missed a few months ago.)

I’d like to see what letters have been received responding to Jan Wong’s absolutely horrible article about the recent shootings (post about this in the works), and they’re not available online, and I’m too lazy to go to the library if I don’t have to.

Don’t blame Marilyn Manson: Blame the Quebec education department.
The events at Dawson College are getting people to reflect on what was wrong with the shooter. Looking at his picture will generally confirm in the minds of some the old canard about negative influences like heavy metal music and what we should do about them.
In high school, we read Aldous Huxley, Albert Camus and J.D. Salinger, all of whom tried to convince us that life had no ultimate meaning.
CEGEP was more of the same nihilism. And we are surprised when this leads some to the despicable choice of violence to dull the pain.

Oh brave new world, fuck off and die.

You know what? If you want me to set up a time that you can assess my place, you can speak to me in English. So I left an English message on the machine. If he’s pleasant about it, I’ll switch to French.

Say hello to our newest landed immigrant, Zhenia.

Actually, I think that landed immigrant is now the wrong term, it’s permanent resident, unless I’m confused. But landed immigrant sounds a bit cooler.

A more thoughtful review later, where I will discuss the use of the buddy cop cliches in Bon Cop Bad Cop, as well as some other issues I had with it, but overall, big points. The theatre was packed, and there were lineups for the two 9:30 shows. I laughed — everyone laughed.

Rick Mercer plays a tolerable anti-Quebec, anti-Europe, ugly-tie-wearing “Tom Berry”. Louis-José Houde (Jeff, the coroner), plays someone much like the Brad Pitt character in Snatch. Patrick Huard and Colm Feore are great. Greater is Capt. Leboeuf, who makes the most of this “hopportunity”. How funny is it if you don’t speak French? I don’t know. Funny, yes, but laugh-out-loud funny? Perhaps. Canadians — especially Ontarians — should enjoy it. Probably people from the NE US will get it, too (not in the sense that the movie will play there, but if they saw it, they’d laugh).

I rather liked the swearing scenes, where Huard teaches Feore how to swear in French, or Feore’s sister some “dirty French talk” to say in bed. I was also a fan of the “Saving Grace” mini-story (see that movie too). The plot was as thin as any given buddy cop movie, but they were open about it — though I regret the lack of a Zamboni chase scene. Wouldn’t that have been cool?

Overall, it’s every Canadian’s — and every Canadian resident’s — civic duty to see this film. Support local film! Plus laugh! What else could you ask for?

Beverly Spanner lives in the 33-storey Port Royal tower, next to the lot. She . . . argues the condo complex will block the sunlight from some of the units in her tower.
” . . . This was supposed to be a 10-storey project and now it’s 12-storeys.”

How dare they put up something over a third of the height of your building?

(Blah blah I know the real complaints, but come on.)

Today I am finally going to see Bon Cop Bad Cop (trailer which hasn’t, as far as I can tell, been updated in a year). I have been waiting for this movie for a year, so I will almost certainly be disappointed. (Other Canadians: it opens across Canada in a week or two. Support the local film industry! People who aren’t in Quebec or Ontario and who are probably ignored, sorry. If you see this movie, maybe there will be another one where they go out west, or to Alberta, or the Atlantic provinces. Manitoba and Saskatchewan, I guess I just don’t care about you.)

I know it had the highest-grossing opening weekend for a Quebec film ever, which is I suppose impressive, in the big fish/small pond way. (Which isn’t fair, because Quebec movies are very good, as — I am told — is much of their tv, though I don’t watch it.) Reviews have been uniformly good, though of course this is in part the “such a cute idea, we have to like it” effect.

Proper review to come tonight.

Today the heat was oppressive; walking outside felt like walking into a wall. It was humid, though the breeze was enough to make being outside bearable. And then suddenly it started to rain — lightning and thunder and pouring rain and strong strong winds blowing the rain into my house. But the storm blew over (though I anticipate another one), and the house has cooled itself right down to bearable overnight levels.

I bought strawberry plants and a raspberry plant too. Right now they are sitting in pots on my patio, hoping I won’t end up succeeding in killing them. Poor plants, to be stuck with me taking care of them. Good intentions do not actually mean death-avoiding.

But I don’t want to kill them — they’re perennials (which seems like the wrong word for non-flowers) — so, I ask of other pot(ted)-plant-growers, especially northy ones, what do I do? All I get is that they die easily from too much wet, so should I poke holes in the bottoms of the pots (which are plastic and have no holes)? What is too much wet, anyhow, how often should I water etc? I know they need full sun, which my south-facing top floor balcony conveniently has. But what of the winter? I bring them inside, sure, and then I . . . what? Let them sit until the last frost? Water the soil occasionally? Keep in a warm room, keep near the sun, keep away from the sun?

See, this is why I don’t do plants. They’re too confusing.

montreal balcony