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As a giant polisci nerd, I find this fascinating and intruiging...

"In a show of backbencher strength, NDP MP Sheila Malcolmson could become the first MP in history to force her colleagues in the House of Commons into a secret ballot to save a piece of legislation.

Malcolmson plans to appeal directly to House of Commons Speaker Geoff Regan today hoping he'll let her private members' bill to establish a national strategy on abandoned vessels proceed to debate.

The bill, first introduced in 2016 and then updated last spring, was deemed earlier this month to be "non-votable" by the House of Commons procedural committee because it deals with the same issue now being dealt with by a government bill.

That legislation, C-64, was introduced by Transport Minister Marc Garneau in October, more than six months after Malcolmson's bill. Although they both deal with abandoned vessels the bills are not identical.

Oak Bay cleans up derelict boats as problem persists along B.C.'s coast
Feds to ban 'blight' of abandoned boats, bring in penalties for owners
In order to ensure all private members' bills are eligible to be considered by the House of Commons they go through a review process. Malcolmson's bill didn't survive that process, with the Liberals on the House procedural committee deeming it to be non-votable and the NDP and Conservative MPs voting to allow it to proceed.

In the past this has been the end of the line for legislation but Malcolmson and the NDP have found a 14-year-old rule introduced to give backbenchers more power. It has never before been used..."

NDP's Malcolmson seeks secret ballot vote of MPs to save bill on abandoned boats - Politics - CBC News

Don't Expect Gratitude

"Generally speaking, when we are too desirous of something in life, we’re less likely to attain it. Success seems to increase in direct proportion to the diminution of our desires. The same logic applies to our need for recognition. We might want to be appreciated and respected, but we have only a limited ability to influence how other people respond and we can’t make somebody show us gratitude any more than we can force someone to love us. If we show love without expecting it to be reciprocated, we will have more chance of finding love than if we simply yearn for it. Likewise, doing something without expecting gratitude is more likely to elicit appreciation for what we do. Whether someone can acknowledge our actions or not should be no concern of ours.

We simply commit ourselves to doing things to the best of our ability and in as thorough a manner as possible without sloppiness. We should never think that other people are indebted to us or obligated to help us in return. We should simply do things because we love doing them, not because we want other people to feel indebted to us. Shantideva says:

The work of bringing benefit to beings
Will not, then, make me proud and self-admiring.
The happiness of others is itself my satisfaction;
I do not expect another recompense.

-- The Practice of Lojong: Cultivating Compassion through Training the Mind by Traleg Kyabgon, page 229


Jeebus, Maben, and Iosef. The roommate is now officially waking me up at 03h30 in the morning every other day. Not even 05h30 anymore. 03h30. My body has had four hours sleep and can't relax in my own home, and I'm working or in motion eleven or twelve hours a day. This situation is going to be brought to an end. Goodbye roommates!


     These have been a couple of weeks which definitely deserve a dram of sake. More likely several drams, but it is nice to keep things moderate. Things went spectacularly badly with Pallas, and more than one part of me is in turmoil with the belief that she perceived me more as a source of sexual and emotional energy to imbibe than an actual person. Lovely that I attract the hungry ghost in otherwise goodly folk. Other than that, it's been a whirlwind of Latin, Sanskrit, and the fangs of the kleshasgnawing their way up and down me. Even the long bout of yoga with Ann's class didn't help as much as usual, likely because I'm still processing everything that went down with Pallas, and the feeling of sexual exploitation that have been provoked - rationally or no.

There's a long and amusing story of the long and peculiar relationship between the Gekkeikan sakecompany and the Shambhala lineage. I should tell it sometime, when I'm in the mood. It involves Rinpoche, a colt 40, and a very confused Japanese salariman.

"Two years ago, archaeologists excavating an ancient grave at Pylos in southwestern Greece pulled out a grime-encrusted object, less than an inch and half long, that looked like some kind of large bead. They put it aside to focus on more prominent items, like gold rings, that also were packed into the rich grave.

But later, as a conservator removed the lime accretions on the bead’s face, it turned out to be something quite different: a seal stone, a gemstone engraved with a design that can be stamped on clay or wax.

The seal stone’s image, a striking depiction of one warrior in battle with two others, is carved in remarkably fine detail, with some features that are barely visible to the naked eye. The image is easier to appreciate in a large-scale drawing of the original.

“The detail is astonishing, especially given the size. Aesthetically, it’s a masterpiece of miniature art,” said John Bennet, director of the British School at Athens, an archaeological institute..."

A Grecian Artifact Evokes Tales From the ‘Iliad’ and ‘Odyssey’

Sweetbitter Pallas

"My body wants your body,
Sweetbitter love of mine.
My laughter wants your laughter,
Sweetbitter cut of wine.
My eyesight wants your eyesight,
Sweetbitter grey-eyed thine.
My fingers want your fingers,
Sweetbitter slender vines.

My body wants your body,
Sweet Pallas bitter wine.
My laughter wants your laughter,
Sweet cicadas bit of rhyme.
My eyes they want your eyes' love,
Sweet looks and bitter tears,
My heart's love wants your heart's love,
Sweetbitter hopes and fears."

Written some number of weeks back, when K. and I first started having trouble. At his point, I've played the bad-guy and cut off all forms of relationship. We had quite the blow-up last night - a spectacular first and last fight - and any hope or aspiration of holding together a friendship after breaking up went to pot. I made quite a few mistakes. Good intention, but bad follow-through, with bad results. Hopefully the product is neutral karma over the long run; I don't think that anything fundamental has shifted with K. I think that she's fallen back into a familiar cocoon. Hopefully I'll have learnt something without shutting down.

As far as mistakes though, my first was not following my own judgement, and putting a bit too much in K's. We should never, for instance, have been having any sort of unprotected intercourse, and I should never have agreed to it. Somehow, she doesn't seem to acknowledge that that was unbearably risky behaviour - a fecund game of Russian roulette - if she wasn't prepared for the possibility of pregnancy. I trusted her judgement, but that was not a good idea.

My second mistake was not realizing quickly enough how far behind the lens of her previous relationships she was falling, and how much she was projecting upon me. My third may have been... what? Not slowing things down as she pressed down on the accelerator? Not voicing earlier my own insecurities and worries about being used sexually and emotionally, and the feelings that our "activities" were dragging up? I'm not sure. It's still difficult to see how that tangle could have been untangled. I didn't know what I knew until I did, and K. kept secrets and shied back from making herself vulnerable until, inevitably, something provoked the need. In the meantime, there was hardly the space to air my own feelings while trying to address K's immediate needs for comfort and care (mind you, this is the unfortunate commonplace in about half of my romantic relationships).

I don't know what I could have done. Perhaps I shouldn't have allowed K. to keep things semi-secret? It would have been better to have mutually supportive friends chiming-in. Should I have cut her from FB and Messenger quietly, without trying to be open with her and trying to talk? Could I have not gotten things off of my chest in the 11th hour? Honestly, I don't think that I could have at this point. I'd been carrying the pain and confusion for too long. Something had to be said, and I managed to say it genuinely without any anger towards Pallas, or any intention to grasp or ignore anything (not that that made things any better for her, in the short run).

'Dunno. Much as I love Ms. K, she was not ready for the kind of vulnerability that came up in the relationship, even if she was aching to spill everything. Maybe it was at least cathartic for her. I hope that it helped.

I've at least stopped crying over the children that I'll never have, which is at least some improvement on the condition of the world.

APPSA 2017, University of Moncton Edition

  Pallas' anniversary has passed with nary a word. This weekend I've been in New Brunswick for the APPSA conferenence. The University of Moncton certainly has a pretty campus. It's too bad that I didn't really have the chance to tour it. On the other hand, a goodly number of people actually showed up for my panel this year, including fellow KCL ESA alumnus Leslie J. and Carletonite Elsa P. Dr. Shawn Narine and my father also attended, along with some others, and things went rather well.

Asides from that we (Dad, Clifford, Piper, and I) have mostly been hanging about or else commuting back and forth between Freddie and Moncton - a three hour round trip on it's own. A few of my spare hours have been spent on Latin and Sanskrit, Dad and I have had a converation and a walk or two, and I roused myself for a Sadhana practice last evening while D&C were out at the store. The practice was sorely needed. Maben and I also finally managed to get my SSHRC application submitted, which is a boon. Asides from hanging about the Libraries and the Beaverbrooke Gallery café, not too much opportunity or good weather came along to galavant around downtown, unfortunately. After I get back, though, I have a meeting with a client and the Bodhisattva Vows layered atop my usual schedule - so I'll hardly have time to pine in regrets! My plane takes off at 16h00 local time.

Thanksgiving Sanskrit in the Lounge

     Thank goodness for something worthwhile to do on Thanksgiving. For the past bit, I've had the Classics Society lounge to myself, and so I've been working on my transliteration skills. Literacy skills will come decidedly later. But, at least I'm beginning to recognize most of the Sanskrit script, asides from a few very odd compound consonants.

    Pallas, I'm wishing, has gotten through the weekend in one piece. We haven't spoken in a pair of weeks, though I wrote her a letter of comfort and support. I've no idea if she received it or not. It's also hard to say whether it is better for her to be with her parents or not this weekend. I can only propose to myself that the fact that she didn't reach out to me is a sign that she didn't feel that she needed to.


The Irrepresible Ebuliance of Ignorant Gods

It's a magic moment when you're having a cruddy day and a friend, who ghosted on you months ago, parachutes in for a few moments to 'splain what's wrong with you. Jesus save me from people flouncing about in the deva-loka; I'm so pissed off now that it's positively hilarious. Thank god that the final, thready whisps of life in my productivity have only been shot in the head when I have a giant contract to fill on short order and a couple of dead languages to study. Oye. (Gracias, A.S.)

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