I haven't been writing quite as much as before, as I've been a little bit down lately, but have been trying to drag myself around a bit in spite of it all. Good thing I managed to go out, as today I made some new duck friends at a semi-hidden pond near my place. This sent me into spirals of excitement, of course! I also met a lovely cat that was a tad skittish so didn't manage to get a photo. Even though I'm usually a bit of a magnet for cats, he was just too shy. Well, who can blame him? I run away from people too! While this isn't exactly Morrissey news, I thought you might all like to admire the ducks:
Moving onto today's topic, I was going to post this a couple of days ago but became absolutely infuriated and incensed by a couple of articles I read that criticized the outpouring of grief after Prince's death, so needed to unleash my fury onto the keyboard, which I did over at my MTearfull blog.
But now for a less dark topic, on Tuesday night I thought it might be fun to create a few Twitter polls between sips (more accurately, gulps) of red wine. The first one was just a fun little poll asking people how many photos of Morrissey they've collected on their mobile. I seem to remember having this conversation once in the queue, and many of us were well into the 100's. The results on Twitter were pretty much SPLIT THREE WAYS (sings). While this is fun to sing, it's somewhat statistically uninteresting. Someone beat my old record of 926, with over 1400, and I'm guessing that there are possibly others who have over 1000:
Now, let's move on to the poll that had more interesting results, which was a question of fashion and style. Oscar Wilde once said, "you can never be overdressed or overeducated" and who could argue with Oscar? So, this time I decided to ask about shirt choice, and as you know, I've reported on similar matters of such importance before, with Boozey and the shirt toss countdown, and with the cardigan countdown. Moz is, of course, a good looking man about town who is remarkably dressed, so it was difficult to narrow down to just a few choices, as Twitter polls only allow you four categories. Without further ado, here were the choices:
1. Shiny
2. Floral
3. Ruffled
4. The ever-vague Other (Please Specify)
The results were as follows:
Out of 38 votes, Floral was the runaway winner with 61% of the votes.
I also received some write-in votes for this charming man in ...
A white shirt and the classic cardigan (be still my heart):
I was surprised to see no one wrote in votes for some of the interesting tshirts Mozza sometimes wears. For instance, the American Idol one, or the Playboy one, or the Immaculate Conception tshirt:
As a bit of a reward for you Floral-shirted Moz lovers out there, I thought I'd post photos of some favourites of mine:
From 25 Live:
With white denim (in LA I think): very nice, very nice, very nice:
This velvety one is oh-so-dashing:
From Chatty Man 2015:
South America 2015 was fabulous for Floral (arriving with incredible style and in concert):
There was even one in South America paired with what I believe to be a cardigan (be still my heart again!):
And of course, this one from The Boy With The Thorn In His Side from the 80's:
Now I'm off to pour over and weep over my copy of Wuthering Heights while at work. Speaking of books, I've been checking amazon UK nearly every day to see if it has any info on who is narrating the List of the Lost audiobook, to be out at the end of June. I'm really looking forward to it!
It’s been
two weeks since I’ve blogged – for which I really have no excuse save from a
short spell of writer’s (bloggers?) block.
In that time (like most times) I’ve been thinking a lot about the
topic of depression. Those of you who
follow me on Twitter know I talk about it quite a bit, and I’ve received nearly
every response from understanding reflections, to heartfelt discussions, to
concern, to criticism, and probably the occasional mute (it’s okay to admit it,
I’m sure most of us have mute lists, some are bigger than others!) The internet is simply reflective of the
‘real’ world in this sense, because such a myriad of reactions can occur in
real life too when one is depressed: some people are supportive, some disclose
their own struggles, some worry, some criticize, and some – essentially – mute
you, or sweep you under the rug. There
are people who tend took look away because they don’t want to see certain
things. Can I blame them? I tend to lock myself away from the world
when I don’t want to see it, or feel overwhelmed.
Which
brings us to my typical reaction when I’m depressed: I hide. Nearly two years ago I was in full-on hiding
mode (I still am in a sense, it’s part of my nature, but in that time I’ve also
traveled quite a bit and made new friends too. Things – life – comes in
waves). Ever the poetic 30-ish-year old
teenager, I was hiding in my bedroom: writing, reading, cuddling my cat, and –
discovering new worlds in music. I say teenager partly in jest, but another
part of me is irked by the fact I feel apologetic in saying so; I think many of
us don’t lose that teenage-side, but social mores have constricted us and
scripted us into rigid boxes.
Age is more fluid than we are led to believe – and as at times I feel I can
relate to all the sexes – I also feel there are many ages within me. But enough of that – let’s get to the music
I discovered.
From WINK magazine, 2014
There’s
nothing like the moment you discover Morrissey and the Smiths. And I mean really discover: when you
start hungrily acquiring all of the albums, and the lyrics start to wrap
themselves around your mind and your heart.
For me it was a bit like someone reading my innermost thoughts back to
me – and isn’t that what so many of us have always wanted, always searched for? Can’t someone explain myself to me? In our saddest, loneliest times – isn’t that
precisely what we want? Finding music
that really speaks to you is like falling in love – you long and hope for it to
happen in your teens or early twenties, but whatever age it happens – 30, 40,
50, 60 – if it speaks to you emotionally in that moment – it’s indescribably
life-changing. It may even rescue
you. When something grips you with such
intensity, even in the darkest times, you can’t help but feel lucky in a sense.
One aspect of Morrissey’s music (and all the
writing and interviews I’ve also devoured) that’s astonished me is the way he
approaches depression: with a blend of deep understanding (as he lives with it
himself), poetic beauty, and humour. I say poetic beauty because his lyrics are
undeniably beautiful, even if the topics he often deals with are dark; he
elevates the struggle to something heroic (I believe Russell Brand once
described this in a similar way). I also
find Morrissey quite humorous – I never understand people who find him a gloomy
downer. Well, neither does he: “it’s the people who know of me but don’t listen
to me who have that opinion [on people who miss the humour]. I think the audience understands completely.
It’s really not that I’m a depressing person. It’s simply that I’m not a
bouncing moron.” (2004).
Russell Brand with Morrissey
Russell Brand introducing Morrissey at Hollywood High (2013)
Morrissey
is unique. He is courageous. He shared his struggle and views on
depression long before the world was comfortable talking about it. Is the world even comfortable talking about it
now? While many movements have been
made to talk about mental health, I still believe it is somewhat of a taboo
topic. Judging by a number of articles
I’ve read, it is currently deemed ‘acceptable’
(whoever decides these things?) to talk about depression if you are IN
recovery or are now what society deems a ‘successful’ person, but if you are
still in the midst of it, still struggling – ah… that might be a bit ‘much’ for
readers to bear. Perhaps the media
wants to give people hope, which I agree is important, but it also ignores the blistering truth that
depression is a lifelong battle for some – maybe for many. Maybe it’s just that we don’t hear those
voices very much. The way ‘hope’ is
packaged can feel suffocatingly contrived and forced. Articles are constantly
published to the tune of “Well, I had depression for an awful couple of years,
and now I don’t anymore! I’m married with three kids in a two story house with
a paid off mortgage. I work a (dreary) middle-management position but run
marathons and jet off to all inclusive resorts twice a year, so life is
good.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased
for those who escape the merciless clutches of depression, but where are
the articles about those who still struggle or exist in some kind of
alternative realm? No one is knocking
furiously at my door asking me to write an article about the depression I’m
currently coping with. Must it always
be neatly tucked away in the past?
In the 1980’s, I can imagine much of the general
population responded somewhat rigidly towards topics like mental health. I was too young to remember. But Mozza’s audience must have
appreciated it like nothing else in the world. Even now, some 30 years
later – in the midst of slugging through yawn-provoking motivational quotes
(some are downright insulting), auto-tuned songs that say nothing to me about
my life, and ridiculous commercials where people dance in banks – how
refreshing is it to discover someone like Morrissey? Nothing is as groundbreaking as authenticity. True art touches the soul.
How Soon Is Now? (Live, 1986)
I Know It's Over (Live, 1986)
ON
DEPRESSION:
I’ve always respected how openly Morrissey discusses depression in
interviews. It hurts, because I know he
suffers too, but another part of it makes me feel so much less alone. I’ve collected some quotes here that have
really spoken to me on the subject:
“I am
depressed most of the time. And when you’re depressed it is so enveloping that
it actually does control your life, you cannot overcome it, and you can’t take
advice. People trying to cheer you up become infuriating and almost insulting.
It’s all a part of that “pull-yourself-together” approach isn’t it? Depression
is very, very powerful. You can’t simply go to a nightclub and have a quick
Miller draft light, or whatever you call it, and come out of it.” (Details, 1992).
SPIN: Isn’t unhappiness, to some degree, a
matter of choice?
MORRISSEY: I think choice has a great deal to
do with it. I can’t explain it more than that. It may be unconscious choice. I
think it’s a result of somehow being traumatized along the way and you suddenly
decide upon what’s best for you, i.e., staying away.
…
I think I’m
always depressed. And I don’t say that
in search of a guffaw, but I think I am always depressed.
SPIN: Do you ever have that sense of being encased,
like the boy in the bubble, so that all experience is not direct, but filtered
somehow?
MORRISSEY: Yes, I do. I feel that I can have a
million conversations, but nobody actually sees me, or speaks to me directly,
and tells me something that’s actually valuable to me. But life is… difficult.
“Morrissey says he’s always suffered from serious
depression, “which is something that isn’t allowed to be said,” he adds; he
continues to feel that it plays a key role in all of his work” (SPIN, 1992).
“I don’t believe you can be an intelligent, artistic person
and avoid depression.” (2004)
This section of Autobiography hurts to read, and
shows the emotional place Morrissey was in before the Smiths was formed:
“…At the hour of the Smiths’ birth I had felt at the
physical and emotional end of life. I had lost the ability to communicate and
had been claimed by emotional oblivion. I had no doubt that my life was ending,
as much as I had no notion at all that it was just beginning. Nothing fortified me, and simple loneliness
all but destroyed me, yet I felt swamped by the belief that life must mean
something – otherwise why was it there? Why was anything anything? I had
become a stretcher-case to my family, yet this made it easier for me to put
them aside at those moments when the wretched either die or go mad. The water
was now too muddy, and, being nowhere in view, I am not even known enough to be
disliked. The wits had diminished, and I am sexually disinterested in either
the male or the feel-male – yet I make this claim on knowing almost nothing
about either. Horror lurked beneath horror, and I could only tolerate an
afternoon if I took a triple amount of the stated dose of valium prescribed by
my GP (who would soon take his own life). Life became a strange hallucination,
and I would talk myself through each day as one would nurse a dying friend. The
diminishment could go no further, and the face can only be slapped so many
times before the slaps cannot be felt. I became too despondent for anyone to
cope with, and only my mother would talk to me in understanding tones. Yet
there comes the point where the suicidalist must shut it down if only in order
to save face, otherwise you accidentally become a nightclub act minus the
actual nightclub. This, then, was my true nature as the Smiths began: the
corpse swinging wildly at the microphone was every bit as complicated as the narrow circumstances
under which he had lived, devoid of the knack of thigh-slapping laughter.” (Autobiography,
p. 201-202)
“For me it
didn’t ever get better. I’ve had it for many, many years, and I refer to it as
the black dog. And it doesn’t go away. And it’s usually the very first thing
when you wake up... There is no cure, and I think it’s part of being a
sensitive, open human.”
“I don’t
[take medication] but I’ve been through everything, it’s pointless. It’s a
frame of mind, a state of mind, it’s circumstantial.” (Larry King, 2015)
Morrissey talks about depression on Larry King
ON THE STATE OF THE WORLD:
Is there love in modern life? I won’t carry on about the deplorable state of the world; the
fact that Donald Trump is constantly appearing on the covers of countless
magazines is proof enough we’re on the brink of hell. There are atrocities
everywhere. Conversation lacks depth.
Certainly much of the world is focused on the unpoetic side of life:
possessions, cars, jobs. I’ve languished through entire insipid dinner
conversations on mortgage rates and how much people make per hour. North
American society, in particular, is greedily focused on being constantly
overfed. But what feeds our souls? In a
sense, many of us are unfortunately encouraged to subdue, or even deny our own
sensitivity. Do we turn inwards?
“I think about everything too much… I have this chattering voice,
this chattering mind, and it just doesn’t stop. And nothing can make it stop.”
“I’m a sensitive little thing, and I’m very interested in
poetry and the poetic side of life, and so obviously it’s hard in modern life
because there’s no poetry in modern life. There’s nothing very nice about
modern life. It’s very difficult, so yes, I feel pangs very easily.” (Larry
King, 2015)
“I was enormously influenced by film as a child, and I made
the assumption at a very early age that whatever you see in feature film is
what will eventually happen when you grow up. When I became a teenager it was
strikingly obvious that feature films – especially Hollywood films – were the
biggest lie of all. And still are. This, coupled with the realisation when I
was around ten or eleven, that abattoirs existed, was too much for me and I
slipped from being quite a noisy and yappy child into an intense and withdrawn
thirteen-year-old. Further on, the direct result of this was the inevitable
antidepressants. If you can’t shoulder the burden of living in a society which
is less than civilized then you don’t quite fit into the community and too much
is going on in your head. When I was fifteen I was under no illusion that life
was a terrible thing. My view has never changed. I think this is why we all
love to sleep – because it is the only way we can get away from life. Well, of
course, there is another way…” (Hot Press, 2009)
What is your most important inspiration when you write
songs?
“These days it’s unashamedly my own emotional position,
which I now admit to being quite odd. When you’re 23 you have poetic license to
be searching and confused and obsessed with suicide and greatness in equal
measure. But I am now 48 and can no longer be said to be developing a philosophy of life. Things, by now, are
supposed to be quite settled. For me, they aren’t. I’m still trying to make
sense of a world that makes none. As far as romance is concerned, my life has
always been absurd, so it’s only by the power of song that I attempt to keep body and soul together.” (TTY, 2007).
Life Is A Pigsty (Live 2006)
ON LONELINESS
Existence can be
very isolating; often a sense of detachment can claw and gnaw at us. At many times,
having people around can even make it worse (I find this, anyway). It can feel
very unique and specific to you, when you’re enduring it, but another part of
you wonders if many people feel similarly. Loneliness can be all-encompassing,
and some days we end up talking ourselves through just to get by.
“We’re all lonely,
but I’d rather be lonely by myself than with a long list of duties and
obligations. I think that’s why people kill themselves, really. Or at least
that’s why they think, ‘Thank heaven for death.’” (The Guardian, 2010)
[On his worst habit]: “Avoiding people. I avoid people I
actually like. I suppose that’s a phobia, but it’s also a habit.” (1984)
“I don’t think loneliness or a sense of isolation is
restricted to youth. For some people, unfortunately, it lasts their entire
lives. They remain alone, or they remain very reflective, looking inwards. So I
don’t ever feel that I was initially simply writing for 13-year-olds. I also
don’t think once you’re beyond 21 that everything magically falls into place. I
don’t think that’s true.” (SPIN, 1992).
Earth Is The Loneliest Planet (Live, 2015)
ON THERAPY AND ANTIDEPRESSANTS
Lifesavers for some, but it’s hard not to be
discouraged when they don’t work for you. Sometimes the right interesting drug can help, other times you might
find a therapist that speaks to you in some way, but in all honesty there are
times when these avenues are dead ends, or do not turn out to be all you had
hoped. Paying $200 an hour for someone
to remind you to go to bed at the right time or scribble in a workbook can feel
tedious and disenchanting. Being
pummelled with CBT, DBT, Freudian psychoanalysis, or Jungian archetypes doesn’t
necessarily result in one skipping off with deliriously carefree airs to yoga
class or speed dating sessions. And trying medications can be very hit and
miss. Morrissey, in interviews and
lyrics, gives a simultaneously aching yet refreshingly truthful take on his
frustrating experience of navigating the mental health system.
Have you ever considered therapy?
“I tried it several times and found it no use whatsoever.
The problems that I’ve had are more ingrained than mere medication or analysis
can cure. It’s just me, my personality. Not a curious medical imbalance. I felt
I could take some magical pill and be cured but its not the case. The thing
I’ve been fighting is this thing here before you.” (Q Magazine, 1994)
Have you ever tried Prozac?
“I know little about Prozac. I’ve tried it of course. We all
have. But it just didn’t work for me. So there’s no appeal in something that
doesn’t work.” (Q Magazine, 1995).
What’s your attitude to psychoanalysis? Did you see a
therapist in LA?
“Nooo, not at all. Well, I did before I left, because I was
leaving for LA. And they said, of course, ‘Please don’t do it.’ I don’t see
anyone now. I think we’re all a mess. And it will all end eventually so there’s
not really any point wasting money on therapists. What is there to talk about?
You’re unhappy? Who’s happy?” (Mojo,
2006).
Something Is Squeezing My Skull (Live, 2009)
ON SUICIDE
Perhaps the most taboo mental health topic of
all. Growing up I was told suicide was
‘a selfish way out,’ so when I was a teenager and certain thoughts came to me,
I felt there was nowhere I could go. In my life, through the years, I’ve heard every
misguided, insulting, and utterly judgemental view flung unflinchingly towards suicide
and suicidal people: it’s ‘selfish,’ a ‘sin,’ or ‘a coward’s way out.’ Yet last
year, in an interview with Larry King, the media flew into a predictably frenzied uproar when Morrissey described suicide in a different light: as
‘admirable.’ Perhaps speaking of suicide in such a way doesn’t appeal to everyone, but as a society we are so drenched in seeing it as “wrong,” which
is a tremendously damaging point of view.
Yes, suicide can often be prevented, and we should always, always do our
best to reach out and support those who are suffering, but…at some point, we
ought to allow people to have autonomy over their own lives.
“It
[suicide] crosses everybody’s mind. Everybody thinks about it. Even people who
mistakenly assume that they’re happy. They think of just disappearing and
having enough and many people do. Just taking control and saying ‘no more, no more of this silliness.’ And it’s admirable.” (Larry King, 2015).
What did Kurt Cobain’s suicide mean to you?
“I felt sad and I felt envious. He had the courage to do it.
I admire people who self-destruct and that’s not a new comment for me. They are
taking control. They’re refusing to continue with unhappiness, which shows
tremendous self-will. It must be very frightening to sit down and look at your
watch and think, ‘In 30 minutes I will not be here.’ Thinking, ‘I’m going to go
on that strange journey.’ Modern life is very pressurizing. We’re all on the
verge of hysteria. There are people around who’ll shoot your head off because
you forgot to indicate.” (Q Magazine, 1995).
Kurt Cobain in 1994
You’ve talked about suicide several times. For you, it’s an
act of bravery…
“I think the recurring phrase is that it’s the ‘coward’s way
out.’ But I think it’s the strongest decision that any individual can possibly
make, as obviously it’s very frightening. I don’t like the term “commit
suicide” because it sounds like robbery or something rude or naughty. But I
admire people who take their own lives. I don’t find fighting wars very brave,
or being in the army. To me, that’s remarkably stupid.” (1987)
There is also a moving account of suicide in List of the
Lost (p. 52-54):
“Harri slumped to the floor heavy-headed and heavy-hearted,
striving to conclude the day with a certain patience and wisdom. He shall
travel this path without the strength to cope with anything else, no longer
likely to explode from this intensity, yet ready to fuse the physical with the
spiritual and to accept that the next moment will be unlike any other. Life had
become much too burdensome, and the repulsive vision of his mother’s cashed-in
body and soul all alone under soil caused a brittle left-to-right cluster
headache each time its flash-photography image tasered his brain. Here was a
point of control whereby you are your own witness, and all that happens is made
by you and does not need further clarification. Let the minutes spin as a
tankard of vodka is clouded by a heavy overjolt of brown and white powder, both
of which submerge like falling snow and whisper, I’m the right friend for
you…”
Asleep (Live, 2014)
Len Brown, who lost his brother to suicide and
has interviewed Morrissey many times, describes Asleep as “an
astonishing track that deals with suicide in a poetic and understanding way. As
someone bereaved by suicide, still one of the great unspoken taboos in British
Christian society, I’ll always admire Morrissey for even attempting to tackle
such a difficult subject, let alone succeeding so sensitively.” (Meetings With Morrissey, 2010)
Yes I am Blind (Live, 2015)
Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want (Live, 2007)
Even though this was a heavy topic, it’s been meaningful to
me to write this and compile these quotes. I’ve spent a lot of years wanting to
feel understood. Looking back, even people who haven’t turned their backs on me
with immediate discomfort at the word "depression," (for which I’m immensely
thankful) have mostly been unable to get through to me. Many people didn’t like that
I felt no desire to reform my thoughts in an attempt to understand or embrace the many aspects of life that
have never appealed to me. Maybe part of me clings to my dissatisfaction, my
opinions, and I’ve at times been criticized for seeming too bleak (as if
something can be done about this with a snap of the fingers). One thing I do know is I have sought out
help during my worst throes of depression: barely being able to leave bed, for
instance. However, if I suddenly woke
up ecstatically beaming about the state of the world (in the state it's currently in) – well – it wouldn’t be
me. The greatest sense of contentment I
can envision is being allowed to be myself.
We shouldn’t feel frightened to be ourselves, but many of us do. Isn’t it through art that we unleash our
pain? Isn’t that how we connect across our loneliness? Why plaster artificial smiles on our
faces in the moments when we are dissatisfied or sad – doesn’t this hurt more?
Authenticity is a breath of fresh air. Of course I’d love to be ‘happy,’ but in
some sense I can’t tell if that’s a simple human emotion, or an abstract
philosophical construct, or something that is crudely marketed to us in modern society. Some people misguidedly describe it as a
near-static state one must aspire to in order to have an ideal life, which leaves most of us feeling hopelessly inadequate and incomplete; I feel
overwhelmingly lucky if I achieve fleeting moments of happiness. Yet again, I’m
rambling. What I’m trying to say is
that the gift of feeling understood, while simultaneously clutching onto one’s
uniqueness, especially when one self-identifies as an outsider, is more
meaningful than anything.
A lot of people ask me why I queue so long for Morrissey
concerts. Of course it’s mainly because I like to be in the front row, if
possible, or at least the second row.
There is another wonderful aspect to queuing and that’s
getting to meet people (it may surprise you that I am actually typing this,
considering my insatiable drive to avoid people). However, I truly enjoy these interactions. We share our stories
while we wait. Many of us have dragged ourselves through unendurable states of depression, anxiety,
and/or varying states of suicidality and have finally felt heard, or
understood, through Morrissey’s art. He has exposed his soul, his pain, and his
humour through music, through his poetry.
Turning sickness into popular song, there flows a mutual catharsis
between artist and audience. I hope that Morrissey feels the warmth radiating from us onto the stage; I
think he does… And leading up to those spectacular moments, many of us waiting outside in
line, in the queue, we nod when we speak, because somehow we "get" each other, and we know why
Moz means so much to us. For many of
us, no one else has ever been able to reach us the same way.
This morning, while perusing Twitter, I saw that PETA tweeted a video regarding the Canadian Seal Slaughter, which is lamentably scheduled to occur later this month. According to the "Canadian Sealers Association" website, which I am loathe to click on, the scheduled start date for the slaughter is April 10th, meaning there is very little time left this year and it appears as though, while we have seen a change in Canadian government, there have been no substantial moves to end this massacre. Meaning: government remains inactive - is change just a miserable lie?
How anyone can kill the beautiful creatures photographed above is beyond me. But yet, this futile and violent greed-fest continues. My first instinct, after watching the video tweeted by PETA, where seals were, according to the CSA, allegedly "dispatched in the most humane way possible" (hauntingly, these are the actual words the CSA uses) was to feel horrifically ill and enraged (I could honestly barely type that quote), but then I decided to look into who the new Canadian Fisheries Minister is, and how to contact them.
The news was not fantastic. While Bobby Morrissey replaced "78% pork girth" Gail Shea for her walk of Sheame back in October from her position as member of parliament for Egmont, her replacement for Canadian Minister of Fisheries and Oceans holds a far less promising name: Hunter Tootoo. What's in a name? Well, I simply hoped that this was an unfortunate coincidence, and that his name didn't really mean anything. I was sadly mistaken, and after doing a little research, found that one of Hunter's hobbies is (deep breath) hunting:http://www.dfo-mpo.gc.ca/about-notre-sujet/minister-ministre-eng.htm I'm really running out of steam already here because the whole scenario is starting to feel unsettlingly hopeless.
It only gets worse from here...
It seems that the (dis)honourable Gail Shea has been replaced by someone just as, or possibly even more dishonourable. In fact, Hunter Tootoo even wore a sealskin tie to a fête at the white house. He says this is part of his heritage, and we often see heritage and tradition, et cetera, used as excuses for unthinkable violence towards animals. Depending on who reads this article (probably not many people), some may find it offensive that I do not believe heritage to be an acceptable rationale for such violence, but I believe at some point we must turn away from the past and consider how our current actions affect other living, breathing beings. Appeal to tradition, is, after all, a logical fallacy.
Shea and Morrissey have debated over the seal slaughter in past years
Sigh... well, regardless of how bleak the situation appears to be, we can still take action by at least emailing the current fisheries minister and speaking out against the annual seal slaughter. I know not many of my readers are Canadian, but international letters can stress how this massacre tarnishes Canada's reputation and how despicable this violence truly is. Last August, I wrote an article asking people to email Gail Shea and some of you did. So now it's time to email Hunter and let him know what we think of this disgraceful slaughter slated to occur later this month.
Here is Hunter's email: Hunter.Tootoo@parl.gc.ca
I plan on emailing him myself.
On a more amusing note, I had no idea until today that Shea received a pie in the face from a PETA activist back in 2010. Ridiculously, a fellow MP described the event as "an act of terrorism."
Pie-face Shea
Here is a video:
In all seriousness, though, April really is the cruelest month. We need to try and find a way to end this horrifying slaughter.
