God is…hate?

You know, I don’t usually give lunatics like the Westboro Baptist Church “air time”, because seriously, they get enough publicity, which they absolutely don’t deserve.  But today, I cannot help it.   The WBC…those are the happy people behind sites like godhatesfags, godhatescanada and godhatesamerica (no links because they really don’t deserve the linkage).

They’ve been in Canadian news because of their plan to protest the funeral of Tim McLean, the poor guy who was stabbed and beheaded on a Greyhound bus on the way to Winnipeg.  Why are the protesting this funeral?

From CTV.ca:

Although no member of the group ever met McLean, they claim he lived an immoral and godless life, just like all other Canadians.

And my favourite part:

On Friday, [Shirley] Phelps-Roper [ daughter of the founding member of the Westboro Baptist Church] said her group will not be stopped from getting its message out, even if only one member makes it to McLean’s funeral. “Don’t worry. It won’t matter how many people there are. When they get the signs up, they’ll (get) the same raging, screaming response,” Phelps-Roper said.

Of course.  Because the bible is very clear on how much hate is a part of God’s message.  Oh wait.  It isn’t: You must love another as I have loved you (John 15:12).  Its pretty clear that the WBC is only interested in getting publicity for themselves.  Why else would they be calling the media every time they want to stage one of their hateful protests.  If only the media could bring themselves to just say No thank you.  You aren’t worth the ink.” [I realize saying this that it applies to me as well, since I'm writing about them.  But then, its rage that gets me writing on the topic this morning, so perhaps the journalists who give them press have the same reason].

The article ends with:

They have repeatedly called the U.S. a “fag” nation, a phrase Phelps-Roper told CTV.ca applies well to Canada.

If Canada is a “fag” nation…well, the truth is, I’m ok with that.  At least I’m not a screaming, raging psycho who’s trying to traumatize and already traumatized family at their son’s funeral.

That old saw

Here’s something that really pisses me off.

The National Post weighs in on the whole bill c-10 issue that I wrote about here.  Instead of writing something that was well researched and thought provoking, column writer Marni Soupcoff instead wrote an article that basically talks about why the government shouldn’t fund the arts.

The [Canada Council for the Arts] was created in 1957, just a few years after CBC television came on the scene, and CBC radio has been around since the 1930s. Clearly, Canadians are accustomed to having their money transferred from their own bank accounts to those of the nation’s broadcasters, sculptors and poets. It doesn’t seem to bother most of us, but I still think it’s been a big mistake.

Let’s see why she thinks its a big mistake:

But let’s be honest — who makes up the majority of the audiences of symphonies, art galleries and ballets? It’s middle-class and rich people who can afford to pay for their own entertainment. Government funding ensures that every time these affluent aesthetes sit down to hear a live piano concerto, they enjoy a nice subsidy from lower-class taxpayers, who are sitting at home reading their Harry Potter books and listening to their Nine Inch Nails CDs. It just doesn’t seem fair.

Yes.  That’s right.  Its the old argument that the arts don’t need government funding because the people who go to see the arts are all rich.  That’s the argument that conservatives pull out whenever they feel they need to stop funding those pesky artists.  Because of course, those rich “aesthetes” are spending so much that our symphonies, ballet companies, and art galleries are all just rolling in dough.  Not to mention all those theatre companies (which I notice don’t even get a mention).

Because of course, there aren’t any theatre companies that are in danger of closing.  Its not like Equity Showcase Theatre (which has provided both training and performance opportunities for actors for years) is closing its doors, right?  Oh, wait.  It is.  Why?  Lack of funding.  Its not like theatres that have been the biggest producers of Canadian plays are in danger of shutting their doors, right?  What’s that?  Factory, Passe Muraille, and Tarragon are constantly struggling to stay open?  Does that matter?  Does it matter that the three theatre companies who basically built theatre in this country are struggling to stay open each and every day?  Fuck yes, it does.  Without art, no nation can exist. 

If the arts cannot survive on their own, then it falls to the government to subsidize them.  Because we need them.  The arts are what can define our culture.  Give us an identity.  Because the traditional Canadian identity of “We’re not American” won’t carry us very far.  It can’t.

And one day, we will either fail as a Nation, or we will look at our arts and say, the British have Shakespeare, the Americans have Williams (or Mamet, or Shepard), and we have:  ______.

One day.

Remind me of our common cause

Smoke behind the church, little fascist jerks;
Remind me of our common cause
To buy a duffel trunk, Kill a nazi punk ;
And We’ll go bury him in the backyard
 ~ Ron Hawkins: Small Victories 

Last night, on my way home from a workshop, I was accosted by a pair of nazi skinheads.  I’ve seen these two around in my neighbourhood (well, mostly at the subway station to be specific).  They are always “flying colours”.  They don’t actually seem to be going anywhere, and from where I sit they seem to choose the station they hang out at because of its proximity to several heavily ethnic neighbourhoods.

Anyway, last night, I was on the subway, when they came onto the train.  They marched over to me, and plomped their white-laced docs on the seat (to make sure I saw them).  They smelled of booze and were clearly drunk.  I don’t know what drew them to me.  Its not like there weren’t other people on the train.  Then they accused me of being a member of the ARA, and told me that they would kick the crap out of me if I was (”that’s what we do in Europe” they said proudly).  They then began spouting as much racist garbage as they could.  I’ve never heard so many “n-words” spouted in a few minutes.  It wasn’t just for my benefit that they said it.  There were many other people on the train, and many of them were the very people they were spouting invectives about. 

These jerks were proud of their racism.  It clearly defined who they were to them.  It was who they were.

I kept feeling like I should say something.  That I should tell them that they were full of shit. That racism didn’t belong in this country.  That it was wrong.  But I didn’t.  Because they made it pretty clear that they were quite willing to kick the crap out of me if I said something they didn’t like.  I just stared straight ahead, trying to keep my temper in check, and trying to avoid an altercation.

And I felt (and still feel) ashamed that I didn’t say anything.  I felt like by not saying anything, I was giving them permission to say what they were saying.  And I felt like every time they uttered an “N” word I was betraying my brother.   I felt like every time they used the word “jew” that I was betraying my grandfather.  And I felt like every second I sat there saying nothing that I was betraying myself.  But even though I feel guilty for not saying anything, I don’t know exactly what I might have said.  Especially since no matter what I chose to say, it likely would have resulted in the loss of some teeth.  Yes; I was afraid.  And in my fear, I allowed them to continue to insult everyone on the train, as well as people I hold dear (though they didn’t know it).

I was happy that when I got to my station, my bus was waiting for me (since the nazi’s got off at the same stop).  I really didn’t want to continue the “conversation” nor did I want to witness them harrassing anyone else.  But as I rode the bus, I found myself wondering, what it must be like to be so consumed by hate that you let it become who and what you are.  Where is the joy in life in hating people?  They just seemed so angry at everything and everyone around them, and I couldn’t imagine being angry all the time.

I don’t pity them.  I can’t pity them.  They are, after all, willingly racist.  Its not like they don’t know any better.  They don’t want to know any better.  The worst kind of ignorance (the most unforgivable kind) is willful ignorance.

I hate the whole experience.  I hate that I didn’t say anything.  I hate that I was afraid to say something.  And I hate that in this country, racism like that exists at all.  Because I believe in Canada’s policy of Multiculturalism.  I believe that through the embracing of the many cultures of the people that make up our country, we are made stronger.

And yet, the disturbing thought that runs through my head is: if that’s true, then why didn’t I say anything?