En garde, Magnat.

1994 was a naive time.

There were groups of us sitting around the tables believing we were there to make a difference in our lives. In this belief many of us saw government employees as being partners, ergo democracy in direct action: and, again, Vancouver leads the country with an innovative Canadianism!

We were diligent in our meetings, keeping the decisions on course with how we saw the medical system would best meet the needs of everyone. We studied our communities, met as citizens of the city and province, learned the communication skills the bureaucracy had been learning, wrote and shared our reports, and gave our hearts to what we knew would have the best outcomes. It was to be the final, not beginning stages of the Vancouver Health Board.

Quickly it came from the government the service boundaries had to be divided differently. They knew the money flow, so we posed no argument and continued to make plans as to how we include the new neighbourhoods into our plan for the Vancouver/Richmond Health Board. In quick succession the names and boundaries kept changing and every neighbourhood across the Lower Mainland (22 municipalities surrounding the Fraser River delta) no longer had input to any plan's implementation.

Fast forward through the Drunken-Campbell-BC, where addictions developed into big business for the province. In fact, along with cannabis, the continent's pharmaceutical industry found another group of subjects to test and sell their new found mood-altering concoction, methadone. The Downtown Eastside in Vancouver and Whalley in Surrey are the Lower Mainland's focus to find test subjects, and methadone-only pharmacies have popped up like daisies. One Surrey pharmacist plied flyers for his delivery service ($80. per prescription) to his strongest client base's residential complex. (photo to come)

Many of the generational homeless are raised or migrate to these two areas: It is much easier for the urban poor to make a camp in park-filled Surrey, or have a floor mat in Vancouver than any where else in Canada. Besides, the Lotus lands are always found in the port cities, or those that longshoremen reside in, because that's where the pirates, aka gangsters, have historically plied their trade.

1912 Vancouver businessmen successfully lobbied the provincial government to have the merchant-class ships unload in their port.  Originally the plan was Prince Rupert, because it was a 55-hour shorter route from Singapore, but the Vancouverites were better sleeping partners. A century later Jim Pattison has changed this - and he's been a BC pirate since his infamous 1970's pornographic smuggling - back to Prince Rupert, and that lovely, little coastal community is about to be the hub of ugly; The pirates are sure to moor and leave a wake of destruction up and down the eastern Pacific coast and along the hunting grounds of the Yellowhead Highway, aka Highway 16, right into Edmonton. Pattison has the two western provinces tied into a juggernaut of pig farm proportions, and the psychopaths are salivating.

The State of Addiction

There is a nasty cocktail brewing in Vancouver under the auspices of Mental Health care. The most recent document outlining the new care model is pure plagiarism from the 1990's studies commissioned for the BC Ministry of Health and the City of Vancouver. (How do I know? I was involved in the community and co-wrote some of those studies and had the others in my possession as reference to our recommendations of health care in the neighbourhood.)

The difference is the new document "Improving Health Services for Individuals with Severe Addiction and Mental Illness" (November 15, 2013, Ministry of Health Report to the Honourable Terry Lake) is full of language to describe the estimated 130,000 people as if they are totally incapable of anything, and all their rights are stripped. The revolving door of incarceration-to-the-street is assured.

These people are being video-monitored while they stay in the shelters, because they have no home, and teams of so-called professionals will bound them off to the hospital to be forced to take "treatment" of anti-psychotics, anti-depressants, methadone and electric shock therapy.  Their diet in and out of hospital is predominately refined starches, little in the way of fresh vegetables and fruit, and heavy fat proteins.

These authors have actually used the homeless population numbers and assigned them to their definition of severe addictions and mental health to validate their intended treatment program. Instead of solving homelessness, they're keeping it alive so they have their subjects to torture.

16 Days to Go.

This shot is from the Sally Ann's window, today.

My sixth and last box art project will be complete for the show. Next week I have to get my outfit ready. 

In the last two days I've hit the pavement with the postcards and have invited nearly 200. I've got some more time next week, since we're shutting the studio down on the 19th, to pound the pavement in another section of downtown. Easy work, but my lower limbs scream at me. Ain't easy being arthritic, let alone green ;)

Homelessness continued...

Unenviable, or not?

None of us escape the dichotomy of choice. Tis the way of life. So, is it more enviable to have many choices or fewer?

The situation...

I have a monthly disability income of $940. The average cost of a one-bedroom apartment in this area is $700, add the average cost of utilities (phone, hydro, internet or cable TV) to be $150. I have the added expense of paying $125 per month for a loan I had to take out nearly two years ago. The rest is to buy food with...

I could rent in the cheapest city in this area (average $550 for rent), but it is the city that has caused me the greatest grief and where gangsters roam without any societal containment. My life could be in danger if I were to roam the same streets, as rumor has it, the so-called-contract that was out on me last November is still active.

To use the emergency shelters throughout the Lower Mainland is to sleep beside the same people connected to the gang that put that contract out on me. It is the same as the Transition Houses, where women from prison and the violence of addiction go.  I would pay $375, at least, for a bed for a month.


I have applied to numerous non-profit housing and remain on a waiting list for each. The Salvation Army was oh-so-diabolical and managed to put me from the very top of the A-list for housing to the bottom of the B-list with BC Housing. I have been on this waiting list since January 2000.

A few days ago I turned 55 years of age, and this is suppose to qualify me to use the services of Senior Services Society, in New Westminster. About two months ago I met with Denise Wells there who once worked for a non-profit organization in Surrey and she was part and parcel of a group who tried to steal my artwork. She pawned me off, with prejudice, to a co-worker and Phillip turned out to be "too busy" to help me. I spoke with his acting supervisor, Anna, yesterday and her view is that I don't need their services. She suggested I go to a place in Surrey, which is where Wells worked before and in the heart of the gangster territory.


I could use the bed I have been using the last month, but one of the people has chosen to view my bike as his way to excise his anger. He has destroyed the derailer and it will cost me about $75 to have it repaired. His reasoning for changing the gears abusively is the bike is "a piece of shit".  But, it isn't his responsibility to fix it, or pay for the repairs. His girlfriend has nothing to say, except to pretend nothing is wrong.  (The bike is not just a bike: I have severe arthritis in my lower limbs, and wear a knee brace for support. I cannot stand for more than a few minutes with the brace and the bike allows me to carry groceries as well as exercise to control my weight and diabetes.)

The rains have returned, but there is always a sleeping bag and tarp.