The Miskopalian Church of Parkdale

Since late November, Rich and I have been back to a three species household and the timing could not be better. 

Worried that the world is forgetting about Kyiv? I hug a dog.

Fragile ceasefire? I hug a dog.

Gobsmacking global return to fascism? Incipient existential horror?  I hug both dogs.

Grateful for my six decades of health and happiness? I kiss our old dog.

Manifesting life as a river where good things can happen again for Everyone? I kiss our young dog. 

Reminding myself that the sun does not shine out of my solipy arse? I feed our cat. 

Inspired by Speak Truth, Stand Tall. Image: Me and Misko at High Park by Laurie.

Speak Truth, Stand Tall

With callous and sadistic pleasure
The tiny-handed king will savour
The chaos, the hating
The dog-whistle baiting
The cruelty rendered
And the weak who surrender—

Especially them.

Abandoning principle and self-respect
They’ll kiss ring, kiss ass, and genuflect
Straight-faced, they’ll walk back criticism
Shake heads, deny, and eat some shitism.
Pundits in media will denounce and proclaim
The tragedy, the horror, the pitiable shame
Of edicts, breached treaties, and raids in Chicago
While bosses tee off at Mar-a-Lago

Made-up truths and policies dumb
Everything a zero-sum.
What best to do, midst lies and schlock?
Resist, speak truth—or tug forelock?

Inspired by So, What Do We Do Then? Image: Ron Berg’s Innocent 2.0, which is inspired by artist Francis Bacon’s reinterpretation of Velázquez’s Innocent X.

So, What Do We Do Then?

How do you navigate through a world full of monsters but not become one yourself? The temptation is there to wall yourself into your condo like a medieval hermit or a modern anchorite, passively resisting the onslaught of rampaging narcissists, by not noticing them. That will work, right? There’s nothing to say you have to engage. You could turn off your cell. Refuse to comment. Don’t watch them. Don’t give them the satisfaction. You could practice pranayama breathing. Give up red meat and strong drink. And only binge watch the sitcoms of your youth. But is that resistance or capitulation?

Inspired by (or a reply to) Peace Is Not a Love Song. Illumination from Ancrene Wisse, courtesty of Corpus Christi College.

Peace Is Not a Love Song

Left and right used to describe handedness
Used to be used as direction
Used to mean the logical half and the creative half
Now that windmills, diseases and trucks are politicized
Now that America is oligarchic
Left and right signify the other who must be shamed and silenced
Enemies who must be mobbed and trampled, jailed and shot
We are a body, with knives in each hand trying to cut the other arm off.

Democracy cannot be toothless
Who still holds the ideal together?
Where rises the radical centre, the militant core?
So, fight.
Peace is not a love song

Inspired by Gumption and the Inauguration. Illustration by Fred Ni.

Gumption

As I sit here, recovering from a fracture and read my fellow corpses’ pieces, I find myself wondering what it would be like to be toothless. A one-handed Safari misstep results in several links to toothless blowjobs. Curious, I dare not open. It’s my work phone.

Called gumjobs I’m not quite sure how “gum” replaces “blow.” There was no conventional blowing in my Scarborough upbringing.

  If you’re an aging actor needing reinvention or a hottie who’s lost all teeth in a car accident, I can see how this can be a way to make your mark (without a mark).

Inspired by Gap Kid. Photo by Nina Malyna.

Gap Kid

The boy waits for his first tooth to work loose. Behind some of his friends, he wants desperately to be a part of it, this basic rite of passage. Because now he can push it right over—with a bit that still clings to his gums, bleeding a little—the grown-ups cringe. They don’t remember, can’t even imagine the thrill of losing something they now work so hard to hang onto.
     Finally, come morning, it lays by his pillow to be found, so small, but somehow too special to lose. His grin made all the broader with one tooth missing.

Inspired by Abby Normal. Photo by the author.

Abby Normal

“Can he bring it home?” Jane‘s husband was about to have a large nasal polyp removed, and I wondered about a souvenir.

     We were a family of LET ME SEE ITs. Simultaneously intrigued and repulsed by our own effluvia. Our house was full of pickled specimens, mostly Gerry’s: Tooth extractions, kidney crystals, gelatinous abscesses that floated like jellyfish.

     If pressed, where would obliging surgeons draw the line? 

     “Surely,” says Jane, “they wouldn‘t let you bring an amputated limb home.”

     Maybe. But they let Dad keep a huge calcified gallstone in a baby food jar that you could shake like a maraca.

Inspired by Mark’s Polyp. Photo: Cucumbers by Laurie.

Democracy: The Musical

I hear their tinny, amplified voices across Kraków’s Main Square, and wander over to see what’s happening. They are young Ukrainians, singing patriotic songs and raising money for their country’s struggle against its invader. They are few but their spirits are high. They gather every night. Days later in Warsaw, I encounter another thin crowd of energetic, singing, flag-waving youths. They are Georgians, protesting their government’s anti-democratic tilt. All this in Poland where, just months before, voters ousted an autocratic government. My takeaway? When times are least encouraging, there’s an alternative to apathy: it’s taking a stand for your beliefs.

Inspired by Elevator Pitch and Courage. Photos by the author, Spring 2024. 

Elevator Pitch

“It’s like Twilight meets Arrested Development meets Avatar set in space in 2450. Essentially, the preserved brain of Stephen Hawking is accidentally melded to the brain of someone like GOB Bluth and they get put into this Iron Man suit and sent out to a mining colony on Mars to hunt down Martian vampires, who are trying to eliminate the colonists because the mine is poisoning the planet. And then the beautiful female leader of the Martians falls in love with our hero because of his brilliant, self-absorbed mind. But they’ve both sworn to kill each other. It’s a musical.”

Inspired by Tis the Season. Image by Image Creator.