Alan, Alan, Alan - August 17th, 2009
For reasons I can’t quite express, I find this groundhog marmot (thanks to Donna for the wildlife-spotting help) enormously funny:
It’s from a longer BBC piece entitled “Walk on the Wild Side”. Carry on.
For reasons I can’t quite express, I find this groundhog marmot (thanks to Donna for the wildlife-spotting help) enormously funny:
It’s from a longer BBC piece entitled “Walk on the Wild Side”. Carry on.
I was walking downtown on Saturday and saw a skinny teenage boy proudly sporting this awesome t-shirt:

It immediately reminded me of The Rebel Sell–a clever spin on a tired cliche.
That photo is courtesy of blogging accordionist Joey deVilla, who spotted it in a Toronto shop back in June.
I have a confession to make. Until a few days ago, when I was invited to this Facebook group protesting the Harmonized Sales Tax (HST), I had no idea what it was. In case you’re unclear as I was, the HST combines the Provincial Sales Tax (PST, at 7%) and Goods and Services Tax (GST, at 5%) into one 12% tax. Our province plans to implement the tax on July 1, 2010.
According to Wikipedia, three other provinces have a harmonized tax: New Brunswick, Newfoundland and Labrador, and Nova Scotia. Ontario recently announced that they’d be merging their PST and GST on July 1, 2010 as well.
I thought I’d try to dig up the arguments for and against such a move:
These come from the BC’s government’s HST site:
From other sources:
From the aforementioned Globe and Mail article:
From other sources:
I’m no economist. The few economists’ opinions I could find on harmonized taxes seemed to be “short term pain, long term gain”. While the HST will be tax deductible (where the PST was not), businesses are likely to pass on costs to consumers. That will, of course, have the greatest impact on those earning the least.
There seems to be no question that it’s a business-friendly tax. I did want to question Mr. Tieleman’s assertion that it strictly benefited big business. The Sun quotes Brian Bonney, the director of provincial affairs in B.C for the Canadian Federation of Independent Business:
On the plus side will be the reduction of paperwork and the ability to deduct input credits, which will both have a “massive” impact on small businesses, he said. “Overall, this is a positive thing,” Bonney said. “But I think there are definitely some sectors in the economy that are not going to be happy with this announcement.”
That suggests that small businesses aren’t unilaterally opposed to the tax.
So, what do you think? Through the history of the modern world, taxes have gone up. Assuming that taxes will continue to go up, is this the sort of tax you’d prefer?
I forget how I found this charming blog, but it’s written by somebody who works at a used and rare bookstore. They post the forgotten bookmarks and other sundries that they discover inside purchased books. The discoveries are pretty diverse, from the mundane to the intimate, such as this Dear John postcard:
We are both at such profound transition points in our lives, and our situations are too unstable to offer the foundation necessary upon which to build the tremendous life changes that we idealistically believed possible. I want to know and believe, as I think you do, that I will always be a loving and caring friend & confidante to you - I know you would reciprocate that.
Ouch. Anyway, a terrific addition to the Found Stuff Pantheon, which also includes Found magazine and Passive-Aggressive Notes.
On a related topic, I found this overly-punctuated note on the street beside a smashed desk lamp (click for larger version):
I heard from a friend of a friend that teachers in BC (and elsewhere in Canada) can choose to accept 80% of their salary and, in return, take one in five years off. They’re not guaranteed exactly the same job when they come back, but I gather they get a similar one. I searched the web and the BC Teacher’s Federation website (BCTF) in particular to confirm this, but couldn’t do so. Does anybody know if this is true? Various people on Twitter thought it did, but I’ve emailed the media contact at the BCTF to confirm.
It’s not that important, because I’m more interested in the abstract concept. If I were a teacher, it would seem pretty enticing. I know 20% is a significant salary reduction, but I imagine one could pick up work in the summer time to to reduce that to 10 - 15%.
If you make $55K a year, then that gets reduced to $44K. Given the nine weeks in the summer, one could, conservatively earn another $5000, bringing us back up to $49K, or a 13% reduction in salary. That seems well worth it for five years off over a 25 year career. Imagine the possibilities for travel, professional development, recuperation or just plain old leisure. You could, for example, write a novel every five years.
I see this model working best in highly ordered and predictable careers like policing, nursing and teaching, where seniority is a key determiner in advancement, and jobs are reasonably plug-and play. It’s also suited to careers where innovation is slow-moving (see also the academic’s sabbatical, though in those cases I gather that they’re expected to be producing academic work).
In a corporate setting, I’d imagine taking one in five years off would be pretty stigmatizing. In highly competitive fields, you might be labeled a slacker. I wonder if this is also the case among teachers, and what percentage of BC teachers take advantage of this job benefit? I’d also be curious to see if taking off one year in five has an impact on performance.
Often the best blogs give you access into a world you otherwise would never see, or even think about. Every Saturday Morning is written by somebody who escorts women into an abortion clinic, through a gauntlet of tens or hundreds of protesters. I had no idea such a volunteer service even existed:
We do this because clients of the clinic are often met at their cars by protesters. Between 2 and 5 protesters will follow/chase a client from their car parked in the public lot across the street to the private property line; talking at them, handing out literature, attempting to steer clients into the fake clinic down the block, shouting misinformation, slowing their pace, blocking the door and impeding clients any way they can.
I was under the impression that many clinics had the equivalent of restraining orders, that protesters couldn’t come within 100 feet (or whatever) of the building. Reading this bog, I guess that’s not the case in Louisville.
Over the past two years, I’ve cycled more than I have in the rest of my adult life combined. We had bikes on Malta, and I regularly used my old clunker to get exercise or to ride into town for supplies or a movie. Here in Victoria, my Dad kindly loaned me his old bike, and I use it pretty much along the same lines.
Becoming a regular cyclists has made me more observant of some cycling-related behaviour. So, in no particular order, some random thoughts on cycling:
I watch these guys go by, yelling “we’re not holding up traffic - WE ARE THE TRAFFIC!” and I wonder about the definition of traffic, and whether they fit into it. Before they got there, traffic on my way home consisted of people obeying traffic laws, and doing their best to get home in time for dinner while allowing others to do the same. Critical Mass riders seem to take glee in subverting all that. They are the traffic? Huh. How is it, then, that they storm through lights and disregard numerous traffic laws, getting away with it just because there are so many of them?
This shower nozzle has two rather peculiar settings:
I’m trying to imagine the product development meeting where they decided ‘Price Pfister’ was the way to go.
UPDATE: Hang on. It turns out there’s actually a brand called Price Pfister. I had no idea. I gather ‘Jet Setter’ is the name of the nozzle.
From the residents’ newsletter of a friend’s apartment building:
At the beginning of April, one of our residents approached our caretakers with a most unusual request: it seems that she had been sitting out on a fine day–minding her own business–when a crow swooped down out of nowhere, snatched up her dentures (which she had discreetly placed on the bench next to her) and flew away.
Being quick-witter and understandably rather fond of her dentures, the resident carefully watched the progress of the crow as he flew away and deposited the dentures on the roof of Townhouse 3. And here’s where the caretakers came into the story. The resident reported what had happened to Mark and Luke, and wondered aloud if they might be able to recover the dentures for her.
Although perhaps a wee bit dubious, they were certainly not dismissive of this tall tale and undertook to aid this damsel in distress. Equipped with a long ladder and a healthy dose of curiosity, the two investigated the roof of the townhouse, and found, undamaged, the very dentures they were seeking!
A tad Reader’s Digest, but heck, it’s Friday.
When I was in university, a crow once briefly landed on my head. I assume he mistook my greasy, 19-year-old hair for something shiny. I also know somebody who was repeatedly dive-bombed by a crow who wanted her metal hairclip.
Have you ever had a run in with a crow?