I absolutely love Techdirt. Mostly, because they’re usually the first ones to break a story that, well, could really use a bit more exposure. Like this one, in which an advocacy group based in Europe is trying to find out what Facebook holds of your personal information, and what they do with it. Except, well, Facebook isn’t cooperating.

The group’s founder, Max Schrems, received a reply to his request for the data Facebook held about him in the form of a CD-ROM storing over 800 pages. But
looking through them, Schrems noticed that important information was missing, and so contacted Facebook again, asking for the extra details. But
Facebook refused

And why, pray tell, would Facebook do such a thing? Well, Facebook was asked.

To date, we have disclosed all personal data to which you are entitled pursuant to Section 4 of the Irish Data Protection Acts 1988 and 2003 (the Acts).
Please note that certain categories of personal data are exempted from subject access requests. Pursuant to Section 4(9) of the Acts, personal data which
is impossible to furnish or which can only be furnished after disproportionate effort is exempt from the scope of a subject access request. We have not
furnished personal data which cannot be extracted from our platform in the absence of disproportionate effort.
Section 4(12) of the Acts carves out an exception to subject access requests where the disclosures in response would adversely affect trade secrets or intellectual
property. We have not provided any information to you which is a trade secret or intellectual property of Facebook Ireland Limited or its licensors.

So, basicly, Facebook will give you any and all information you ask it to, about you–except that which is covered by intelectual property–read: copyright–laws or which is considered a trade secret. So much for personal information being, well, personal, hmm? And folks wonder why I have such an opinion on internet privacy.

Toronto has all manner of somewhat decent hockey teams–hey, the Leafs aren’t in last place yet, okay? But I’d still rather gouge my own eyes out with a pitchfork than consider living there. One of the reasons for that would be city councellor Giorgio Mammoliti, who’s recently made headlines for suggesting that Toronto should become its own province. Let’s put this into perspective just a little. Toronto’s previous mayor, David Miller, pretty much spent the hell out of what money he got from the province of Ontario–and some extra, just to make sure he got it all. Current mayor Rob Ford is insisting he can cut spending, and all he’s managed to do is cut his support–in more than half, actually. Oh yeah, and Toronto’s still spending money like it’s going out of style. So why does councellor Mammoliti want Toronto to be its own province, you may ask?

He told the Toronto Sun he is frustrated federal and provincial governments aren’t doing enough for municipalities.

He maintained if Toronto was a province it would qualify for transfer payments from Ottawa.

So, basicly, if toronto was a province, the rest of Canada would have to give them more money they likely would have just as much (read: absolutely no) trouble finding things to do with due to the way equalization’s been set up, and the fact they’re bleeding red out both ends. Yeah, tell you what. No. Spend a few million less, then maybe talk to us about separation. Quebec could use some company on that front. Or better yet, just get rid of Giorgio Mammoliti.

You’d think a supposedly progressive city who prides itself on having the best rehabilitation programs in Canada would be trying to put them to good use as widely as possible, and for as many situations as possible. As it turns out, they’d rather that if you’re going to kill yourself, you do it safely. So rather than using their safe injection sites as a path to redirect users to rehabilitation so they’re not escentially sucking off the government while making themselves stupid, they’re doing things like implementing plans to distribute clean crack pipes to users. So, basicly, yes, crack’s illegal and will probably kill you–but here, have a free pipe on us. You might as well not get sick doing it. Nevermind that you’ll probably be in the hospital after using it, but hey, at least it won’t be because you caught something off someone else’s, you know. If that’s what folks are calling progressive these days, give me good old fashion conservatism any day. At least it’d mean your taxes weren’t going to support the habbit of someone who probably doesn’t pay any. Now. Any other city wanna take over as tops in rehabilitation? Vancouver’s just slipped a little.

So yesterday, partially inspired by a conversation I had with Trish and Roger over the weekend, I explained–not for the first time–in detail why it is this provincial election thing just isn’t doing it for me. And why the federal election–only a few months ago, for the record–did only slightly more than that for me. And now, or rather a while ago, the 3 leading parties have produced another in a long list of reasons for yesterday’s entry–in the form of their reaction to this year’s rent increases. Back in August, an increase was granted of a maximum of 3.1%, or higher than any previous increase since the late 90′s or early 2000′s. The basic reaction of all 3 major parties? Ow, that sucks. The liberals are making noises about reexamining the legislation after the election, with not much in the way of actual specifics on what they’d change. The conservatives are making the same noises with the same kind of specifics or lack thereof. And the NDP’s just making noises–I think they just like to hear what they sound like, personally. Meanwhile, those of us who can’t aford to buy a place to call home and don’t want to live in mom’s basement have been forewarned to hang on to our wallets–it’s about to get wicked nifty not so cool. This happens a lot in recent elections–an issue comes up that’s got a pretty significant enough number of people pissed off, and gives anyone with half a brain cell a golden opportunity to do something–oh, I dunno–different with it. Then, within a few days of it being talked about, all 3 parties come out with an answer at the same time, and all 3 parties escentially flop it. And all the while, folks get ready to have less money to hand out to everyone else who’s bills are going up. If our choices are going to be widdled down to the same, the same and the same, do I really need to know which one wins?

This has definitely been a year. Earlier this year, several municipalities held their own elections–including the Ottawa area. Then, not long after that wrapped up, the federal election. Which, it should probably be pointed out, was pretty much being squared off for during the municipal ones. And now, for the majority of the next couple weeks, several provinces are going through their own elections–including this one. And there’s been a common theme to most if not all of them, that I’ve noticed. With the exception of one or two issues of the week, you’ve got a choice of the same, the same, or the same, optionally with slightly differing levels of snore. In Ontario, the federal government run CBC has opted to broadcast the season opener for this year’s hockey go round instead of the results of the election in this here province. Because, hey, it just isn’t all that interesting this year. Hey, guys? That’s a hint. We’re kind of electioned out. Can we get back to running Ontario, and the rest of the country, now? That’d rock.

Reason number 874329701 why antipiracy laws 99.9% of the time don’t actually do a damn bit of, well, what they’re supposed to. Industry and political officials assume you’re guilty, even if you don’t actually know exactly what you’re supposed to be guilty of. Take a case in france, for example, of a 54-year-old teacher who had his internet access revoked after blowing through their 3-strike policy. His only real crime, according to info available? Not knowing how to secure his wi-fi. And, for not being entirely that technical, rather than give the guy a hand with it, France disconnected him. Meanwhile, the person(s) doing the piracy over his network? Off they go to find a coffee shop to sit in while they download the latest episode of House or something. Yep, you won that round, government of France. Guy who owns the unsecured network sure got an education. Too bad it wasn’t what you thought it was.

Remember all those folks who swore up and down they needed to actually see the naked body to confirm whether or not you’ve got something on you that could potentially go boom, stabby or otherwise do very bad and not very nice things to the general population of an aircraft? Yeah, um, no. But hey, at least they’re owning up to it now. Now, if they’d just knock it off with the whole telling us sexual assault’s A-okay. Yeah, didn’t think so.

Remember when rogers first started screwing around with bandwidth restrictions, then proceeded to launch their own online on-demand video service and, escentially, flipping customers off with it by not exempting it from existing bandwidth caps? Yeah, I figured you would. If not, refresh thyself. Then, read this. Clearly, it’s monkey see, monkey do in the Canadian telecom industry–and, clearly, Shaw has very good eyesight. Again, reread that first link. Except, replace Rogers with Shaw. Where’s the CRTC on this, again? Oh, that’s right–they’re just now getting around to calling bullshit on Bell, 3 years later. Well, I tried. Now, back to pirating CSI.

Anyone miss the good old days when 95% of the mockery *wasn’t* caused by the US or Canadian governments? Tne Transport Security Administration (TSA) apparently doesn’t. In round 8975641 of the government versus your right not to be randomly groped before you can go on your way, the TSA steps up their game to include inventing a charge and arresting a woman. Her official charge? Disorderly conduct. The actual charge? Refusing to let a TSA agent give her daughter a pat-down.

“I still don’t want someone to see our bodies naked,” the mom is reported to have replied.

As for the pat-down option, the police report states that the mom didn’t want her daughter to be “touched inappropriately or have her “crotch grabbed.”

TSA agents say she became belligerent and verbally abusive. The woman was arrested and charged with disorderly conduct.

Suddenly, I feel a whole lot safer should I ever lose my mind and decide to fly into the US. No, wait, that’s not entirely accurate–that would be relief. Relief in not ever actually planning to fly into the US. Yeah, that’s it.

So you’ve probably heard mutterings in recent days about an organization going by the name Music Canada. You’d think they’re an advocacy group for Canadian musicians, wouldn’t you? In an alternate universe, you might be correct. In this one, though? Nope, it’s only the Canadian Recording Industry Asociation renaming itself. This post is just writing itself using bits and pieces of other posts. Like this one. And this one. And probably several others. Ah hell–let’s just chalk the whole thing up to different name, same organization, same good screwing. Cover all the bases? Yeah, I think so. Music Canada? How about no.

Almost as routine as the argument against so-called piracy are the arguments against so-called distracted driving. Calling your boss to let him know you’re stuck in trafick and some moron behind you hits you? Well, you shouldn’t have been calling your boss. Letting your girlfriend know you’re 3 blocks away and to please for the love of cheese be outside and some fool runs a red light? You shouldn’t have been on your phone. So the law says, anyway. How about instead, we take some friendly advice from the Ottawa Sun’s Brigitte Pellerin and shove the blame for it right in the face of the ones actually responsible–the idiot drivers.

Some people out there (though not, obviously, you personally – my readers are way smarter, taller, and better looking than average) are such bad drivers
that they don’t need distractions to be a menace to others. They just need to be placed behind the wheel.

Some other people, by contrast, have no problem driving properly while making a quick call to their husband so he knows what time I’m coming by to pick
him up from work.

Which is escentially the meet of the issue right there. You’re going to have awesome drivers, and you’re going to have morons. Put a cell phone in an awesome driver’s hand, or have the radio on in the background, they’re still going to be an awesome driver. Take the phone out of the moron’s hand, or mandate he turn off the radio, he’s still going to be a moron. And then we’ll end up with laws against talking to passengers while driving. And they’ll still be slapping the wrong people on the wrist for the wrong reasons. And getting escentially the same result. Yeah, texting and driving, or talking on the phone and driving, whatever it may end up being, probably isn’t the safest thing you could be doing. But rather than finding and ticketting everyone and their mother for a quick “I’ll be there in 5 minutes” phone call, Pellerin has another suggestion for local officials.

Instead of making sure I’m not reapplying Burt’s Bees or arguing with Lowell, what the nice officer should do is check that I’ve had enough sleep or that
I’m not on some mood-altering drug that might affect my concentration. I’m not talking about booze or pot or crack here. I’m talking about the legal medicines
Canadians gobble in astounding quantities.

And, just to illustrate her point, she asks some pretty interesting–and I’m assuming rhetorical–questions.

Nobody’s at their best when tired. But some people are so sleep-deprived they are in the same situation as a driver who’s drunk. Shouldn’t there be some
law against driving while sleepy? How about driving while on Prozac?

And does everyone who takes allergy medication follow the advice on the box that says it’s better to avoid driving?

Tongue in cheak, perhaps. But she makes some very interesting points–particularly in terms of just how dangerous dashing off a quick text while behind the wheel is in comparison to driving while tired. And yet, as she points out, the police don’t check for that–they’re more concerned with whether or not you’ve been using that phone sitting on the console beside you. Now, maybe I’m a little backwards here–that’s entirely possible, but you’d think these other folks would be more of a concern to local governments. I suppose, if only it wasn’t all about a quick cash grab.

Before I go tearing into this guy, I’m first going to say right here I have absolutely no problem whatsoever with what people choose to wear–or, in some cases, not wear–on their own time, and in their own home. In fact, if some people knew how I dressed when I’m not planning to go anywhere, they’d probably have some not so pleasant names for me–and I’d probably still promise to maybe eventually find 30 seconds to care. But there’s such a thing as being presentable in public. That does not, contrary to the beliefs of some, include presenting yourself, sans clothing, at an A and W drive through where a teenager happened to be working.

In this case, Brian Coldin runs a noodist resort in central Ontario, and thought he might go grab himself a burger from the A and W not entirely too far away. Only problem is, well, his idea of appropriate atire stopped being appropriate when he cleared the border of his resort. He pulled up, placed his order, and gave the poor girl working drive through a little more than she probably wanted to look at. And now, he’s trying to have the laws changed in such a way that showing up at somewhere like a drive through sans any kind of clothing is perfectly acceptable.

Okay, referring back to how I dress at home, I have absolutely no problem with somebody who wants to go around their own place with absolutely nothing on–I personally wouldn’t go strictly and completely no clothes, but I get why some people would. And that’s perfectly fine–in your own home. But, really, if I’m going out somewhere–yeah, even a drive through, I’m damn well finding a shirt and a pair of freaking pants first. Yes, even if it’s mid-June and too goddamn hot degrees outside–just because I’m perfectly comfortable doing it doesn’t mean the several hundred people I need to interact with in a typical day out are going to be–or should be expected to be–comfortable seeing it. But then, I’m also used to the general rule of no shoes, no shirt, no service–but that’s just me.

You don’t go to work on a typical day expecting to see a naked dood–or chick, for that matter–pull up to your window and hand you payment for a burger he or she produced from–I won’t even guess where. In fact, we put people in jail who usually carry that expectation in public–usually because it leads to something else a little less innocent than hoping to see a lot more than a little skin.

A small note to mister Coldin. I don’t care how naked you want to be or for how long. Neither does this judge. Neither does the rest of central Ontario. Just do it on your own property, for cryin’ out loud–just because we don’t care doesn’t mean we want to look at, or serve, random naked dood from local naked people resort. And if, by accident, you actually win this case, I seriously hope to see a lot more “No shoes, no shirt, no service” signs. Otherwise, my out to dinner outfit–and I will still wear an actual outfit–will include a bottle of disinfectant. Just sayin’.

On May second, Canada went through its most recent election. Canada’s conservative party, which despite popular belief up here is far less conservative than the US conservative party, was elected to government. Fairly, insofar as a system can be fair without offending Quebec, elected in a majority of communities across Canada. In most cases, that would be enough to satisfy even the most politically active–democracy is democracy, win or lose, after all. Unless, apparently, you’re a former senate page named Brigette DePape–or Marcelle, as her press release identified her. Then, democracy is only democracy if the guy you voted for wins. And to prove we just weren’t democratic enough for her liking, during the throne speech to open this session of parliament, the senate page turned senate protester. Her reasoning? Well, after she was fired, she educated us.

Marcelle had served in the Senate as a page for nearly a year, but she decided to take action a few days ago because she said Harper doesn’t reflect the majority of Canadians.

“Harper’s agenda is disastrous for this country and for my generation,” Marcelle said.

She added that the government is “blowing billions of dollars” on fighter jets and corporate tax cuts, but ignoring important environmental issues like climate change.

But since Harper recently won a majority, Marcelle said that staging “creative” protests is the only way to fight back.

“I think that Harper’s agenda is so damaging that it called for something that is different,” she said. “I think we really need to take action.”

Ms. DePape continues, informing anyone who’ll listen that we could benefit from our very own version of the Arab spring. There’s a comment in here somewhere about just how ridiculous and, dare I say, out of step a call like that actually sounds in Canada of all places–you know, one of those places where people in the midst of their own Arab spring come to and enjoy the very thing she’s telling us to protest. I can’t put it into my own words. Instead, I’ll borrow from this opinion piece.

DePape called for a “Canadian version of an Arab Spring.” That’s right, we should all take to the streets and demand free and fair elections — you know, like the one we had on May 2. Now you’d think that a college student would know that we enjoy the freedom and system of government that thousands of Arabs are fighting, and dying, to achieve. But she somehow thinks that our first-past-the-post system invalidates the entire democratic process. I suppose we should expect contradictions like this from someone who professes to support democracy, but took a job in the unelected Senate.

Thanks for that, Jesse Kline. When asked what kind of people would support such a poor, misinformed soul, you need look no farther than the Public Service Alliance of Canada (PSAC), who was gracious enough to offer her a job. Oh, and Michael Moore–yeah, that Michael Moore. Maybe I’m the odd man out or something, but when Jack Layton, also known as Mr. “Harper Is Evil”, says himself what she did was wrong, that should say something.

This kid comes out of the University of Ottawa, lands herself a pretty nifty job for a university student while she’s attending, then turns around and does something like that. And all because the party she voted for wasn’t elected, so clearly there’s no democracy here. A little advice for Ms. DePape, not that she’d take it. What you’re protesting? Yeah, that thing over there? That’s what the Arab spring’s all about. Please, for the love of chese, do a little research before somebody protests the kind of education people are getting at Ottawa U these days.

The good old Recording Industry Asociation of America (RIAA). Screwing their fellow man since it became profitable to screw their fellow man. In the latest episode, the RIAA has decided you’re infringing on copyright by sharing your subscriptions to services such as Netflix or your favourite music service of the week with family or friends. They’ve introduced a bill in Tennessee–quickly signed by the state’s governor, of course–that would see sharers of such ultra valuable material slapped with jail and/or fines. The article, posted over on Techdirt, rightly points out this is an excellently wonderful way to encourage folks to skip the payment options and go right to yanking the stuff for free–which, for those keeping score at home, is exactly the kind of thing they’ve been spending a large amount of the time since the Napster showdown trying to put a stop to. I launched into a debate over on Toronto Mike’s blog on the issue of stealing versus purchasing. And posted a metric ton of entries over here about it. I have no problem doing the former. Things like this? Yeah, this would be why. Thanks, RIAA. No, really. Thanks. For not much.

Remember when you were always being nagged at to play by the rules or you’d wind up watching instead? Anyone? There are 10 girls on one local soccer team who won’t be getting that lesson–and 10 more who probably wouldn’t mind if they did. After using a player during the season who wasn’t listed on the team’s actual roster, the Louis Riel Rebelles were shocked to learn they’d been disqualified from the tournament that was taking place this week. So shocked were they, and so put out in disbelief that such things would actually be frowned on, the school took the league to court–and, surprise, had the decision overturned. The decision came down only a few hours before the tournament in Hamilton was to begin. The team they replaced? They got to find out after already sitting in Hamilton for the games. Ten grade school girls got to hear from their coach, “Thanks for coming out–oh, and by the way, you’re not playing today. The court said so.”. Fair play? Not in this league. So another group of kids gets to learn all about our definition of follow the rules, and they all lived judicially ever after. Way to go, Ontario.

Capital Taxi, a local company here in Ottawa, came recommended from a few folks we know around these parts shortly after we moved up here. I suspect those folks will be reconsidering their choice after the events of the last week. It all started on Tuesday, when a local blind man was out with his wife and son taking care of the business your typical family would need to take care of–grocery shopping, running to the bank, all that lovely shtuff. The cab driver, who has not been named but who drives taxi number 637, was dispatched to pick up the family and take them home. Upon seeing the young man’s cane and sun glasses, the driver proclaimed he doesn’t pick up disabled people. David Labrecque ended up finding alternative means to get home. As for the driver? I made some calls, as did Shane after writing his own post on the subject, and got very little actual response. The company wouldn’t Id the driver, or comment. The on-duty dispatcher didn’t even know about the issue, or so they said. And of course, nobody knew the mysterious driver of taxi number 637. So I left a call in with the Ottawa bylaw office–to which they had yet to respond–for the relevant information on the driver in question. And then, the decision came down–the anonymous cab driver would lose a day’s pay. No, sorry, he had already lost a day’s pay having had to attend the investigation. Capital Taxi would be doing nothing further re: this issue. This stuff can’t be made up.

The Ottawa bylaw request is still pending–and will be followed up with on Monday, first thing (somebody should probably remind me). There will also be an open letter in the near future, addressed to the Ottawa Sun, Capital Taxi, and in true James open letter format, posted to this blog. Hopefully, that open letter will include the name and relevant information of this mysterious driver, identified only by a number |(cab number 637). In the meantime, local readers are strongly advised to stay as far away from Capital Taxi as humanly possible. If left with no other option besides Capital Taxi, local readers are encouraged to put off what needs doing until another option who isn’t Capital Taxi presents itself. Capital Taxi, you have just lost my business. And I’m only just getting warmed up.

I’ve mocked the Transport Security Administration before. Strangely, doing so has resulted in less of an uproar than mocking ODSP folks. Of course, it also hasn’t changed much. In this most recent case, the TSA continues to insist it’s perfectly A-Okay to be very intimately groped during a preflight search–in spite of the fact if they’d done it outside of a security checkpoint, the groping officer would be sitting on the other side of some very thick metal bars right about now. Now, though, it’s not just A-Okay. Now, it’s apparently the politically correct thing to do. Want proof? For that, I take you to Texas, where the government there has threatened to make these pat-downs illegal in the state. In response, the justice department has equally threatened to ban all flights out of Texas. Yessir, you just read that correctly. Don’t approve of the searches? Tough cookies. You either start approving or don’t fly out of texas. They started approving real fast. Way to go, TSA. Just way to go. Anyone else want another reason to take the bus?

I’ve never been to a shawarma restaurant. Nor have I ever had shawarma. Hell, before I moved to Ottawa I’d never even really heard of the stuff. But I’d still support a restaurant of that variety who wanted to stick up for the home team–yes, even if the home team was those bastards from Montreal. The NHL has a different take on it, apparently. One such restaurant near the Bell center thought it might be fun to hang a poster with a cartoon character in a Canadians jersey slicing shawarma with a sword, with the phrase “Go Habs go!” underneath it. The NHL sent him a letter indicating he was in violation of copyright, so the restaurant owner painted over the Canadians logo. They sent him another, indicating the phrase “Go Habs go!” was also trademarked, so he painted over that. He eventually just took the sign down. You’d think that would satisfy the NHL, right? Clearly, you don’t know comissioner Betmman. Instead of being satisfied they’d finally intimidated a local restaurant into not giving the team and the league some much needed free advertising, they rewarded him by demanding he pay $89000 to the league, or $1000 per day of the sign’s existence.

I’ll be the first to say it aughta be illegal to support the Canadians. But then, I’m a Leafs fan–I can say that. But to take it to this level, and claim copyright violations over something that would very obviously be fair use if Canada had a fair use clause, just smacks of “I don’t care”. The team was, and I have to hold my nose to type this, actually doing well, but still couldn’t be hurt by a little extra free advertising. The restaurant was in close enough proximity to the arena that supporting the team, whether or not the owner of the place is a diehard fan, makes perfect business sense for the restaurant and perfect PR sense for the NHL and the Canadians. And instead of recognising that, the NHL slaps a local restaurant in the face and sends a shakedown notice–compensation for using a logo and a phrase they say is trademarked (I’ll believe it when I see it). Now tell me Canada doesn’t need some serious copyright reform.

Moving is almost always a 2-week exercise in waiting. Sometimes, it’s even a 2 month exercise in waiting. There’s the waiting for the approval in the new place. There’s the waiting for the confirmation the new place won’t fall down around the previous tenant’s ears before he moves out, nevermind before you move in. There’s the waiting on things to finally cancel themselves out at the old place so you’re not paying for phone or electricity services you’re not gonna need anymore. There’s the waiting for confirmation you’ve got your vehicle of choice ready to throw your entire life into the back and hope like hell it comes off that vehicle in one piece. And there’s the waiting to see how long it takes before multiple people blow a blood vescel with the help of the company renting you the afore mentioned vehicle containing your entire life. That was escentially last weekend for me.

I finally got the approval for the apartment officially, and subsequently blogged–again–about it. Which meant in about 45 seconds, everything and its dog got cancelled, transfered, delayed until its effective cancelation date, packed in a box or otherwise done away with. So all we had to do was the easy part–pick up the UHaul trailer, load it, get it to the other end, offload it. Easy, right? Except for those parts where it wasn’t.

Because of scheduling issues with the primary driver, we had to have someone else go pick up the trailer on Friday. Now, standard procedure would be the thing passes at least one safety inspection before it’s allowed to leave the lot, nevermind any last minute checks that get done as it’s on its way out. Standard procedure. Unless, apparently, the trailer’s being rented in Petawawa. It got to my parents’ place, where it would be spending the night until we were ready to use it, initact. Well, mostly. The primary driver did his usual run around to make sure everything was appropriately glooed in place the next morning, and discovered it was obviously put through its safety inspection pre-departure by someone who just so happened to be nearly as blind as me. There were no working clearance lights on the trailer. Not overall a huge matter–they aren’t exceedingly used for a whole lot anyway. But, there were also no working break lights on the trailer. Yeah, as you could probably guess, that posed a small problem. So we were shoved 4 hours behind schedule while that got looked into. No huge dealy, really–we still got loaded that day. And the garage we took the trailer to was more than willing to bill UHaul directly for the repair work–an offer, I have to admit, at which I spent the rest of the day snickering. So we get everything to Ottawa, it’s intact, and the trailer hasn’t blown itself to pieces inexplicably. Cause for cellebration–which we did after everything was offloaded. But not before we made an attempt at taking the trailer to its final resting place–well, as far as we were concerned, anyway.

See, the thing about being in Ottawa is there’s half a million UHaul locations capable of receiving vehicles like this between here and the east side. The bad thing about living in Ottawa is there’s half a million UHaul locations who could easily decide they don’t want to let us make them this trailer’s final resting place. We were given the address of, what we would later find out was a small little convenience store type dealy or something. That convenience store type dealy just so happened to be registered UHaul location, so UHaul told us “Yeah, sure, go ahead and drop off that trailer over there. They won’t mind.”. They did. And made it very clear they did. Which prompted us sitting in their parking lot while my father, who happens to share my name and can do things like this, called up UHaul and unloaded with both barels. The end result was spending a few more minutes at $1.40 per liter driving across town to their primary drop location for the Ottawa area, and finally getting rid of that trailer.

So, we eventually got everything loaded. We eventually got the trailer tossed somewhere that isn’t attached to the back of one of our vehicles. And smartly, UHaul hasn’t as yet tried to turn around and bill me for their failed safety inspection. And all it took was the twisting of approximately 3 arms, and the smashing together of the equivalent of two heads. Not bad for a weekend. For the right price, UHaul. At this whole organization and basic covering your ass thing? UFail.

Until a couple days ago, I had no idea if you were a member of the RCMP, you were entitled to use stress as a defense against an assault charge–even if the assault charge was because you pounded on an innmate. Apparently, if you’re an RCMP officer in Alberta, that’s the defense that keeps you out of jail. An RCMP officer, after admitting he did a number on an innmate who’d already gotten whacked one in a bar fight, blames the stress of having been one of the officers called to the scene after the murders of 4 police officers.

Now, before folks jump all over me for being a cold and uncaring bastard, I get that it’s a mental kick in the teeth dealing with something like that. Obviously he worked with and was probably friends with those people, so yeah it’s going to be hard. I get that. But if you’re still bothered/stressed over that kinda thing, the absolute last place you should be is right back at work–particularly work wherein you’re dealing with other people. And the absolute last thing you should be doing is leaning on that as an excuse for having lost it and pounded the crap out of some shmuck you brought in on charges of his own. And yet, that’s precisely what this officer did, and then walked away from it.

Maybe I’m a nutter over here, but if average Joe who’d just been handed a craptacular week or two, complete with losing a family member, friend, coworker or whatever, haulled off and let some other average guy have it, he’d be sitting in jail right now for–oh–we’ll call it a year or two. This guy? Nope not so much. Six-month conditional sentence, 3 of which spent under house arrest. Barely a tap on the wrist–and still nowhere near the 6-9 months in jail that was asked for. And all because of stress. Guess it really does pay to be in law enforcement. Where do I sign up?

This entry is about to get me added to the Transport Security Administration’s suspicious character list. Along with everyone else who’s ever had a small problem with the way they do things. From the “reasons I won’t fly” department, the absolute best justification for ever having had to grope a 6-year-old kid, of all things. And by best, I mean Worst. justification. ever. “It’s standard operating procedure.” Really, TSA? That’s the best thing you guys could come up with? Did you even try? Parents teach their kids to throw a major fit when random people they don’t know try touching them in places they shouldn’t be, and you give us… that? I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again–if you’re going to come up with a line of bullshit, at least make the damn thing reasonably good. On the bright side, we’ve discovered more than just their security scanners are shamefully useless. Now. Where’s this open government Obama was so big on for the last, oh, forever?

I wrote last Friday that the Ontario Disability Support Program (ODSP) has taken to threatening law enforcement action were I to show up at the meeting that was supposed to have taken place on Monday morning. Yeah, that one that was scheduled for a teleconference later on that same afternoon–more on that in another entry. They’re threatening law enforcement action over a single sentence in a previous post that made clear in no uncertain terms the professional damage that may or may not have resulted from this meeting were the level of incompitence displayed so far by my caseworker to actually go unaddressed. I was, rightly so, more than a little pissed with what’s been happening the last few months on that file, and more than a little irritated someone decided to focus more attention on a single sentence in a blog post than on the actual issues that provoked the afore mentioned blog post. Irritated, but not surprised.

Related:

• The internet is not private. Live with it.

It’s been a common trend in the last few years, though more so in the last year or so, to see how far government agencies and potential employers can shove even the pretension of online privacy out of the way under the guise of performing a more thorough background check. From the Maryland department of corrections asking for social networking passwords as a part of their certification/recertification process, to a New Jersey police chief who seems to have no problem telling parents to hack their kids’ online passwords–and even shows them how complete with spyware, that’s becoming the cool thing to do. And I’m not even touching the most recent instance of online content overreaction in Canada involving two teenagers, a Facebook photo and a conservative political ralley. yeah, those two teenagers.

Part of me expected this exact response, pretty much as soon as I started to push back against what ODSP was up to. And, indeed, it was even while expecting that response that I still wrote the exact post I did, in the exact context I did, and later ran into the exact result I did. So why wouldn’t I change my writing accordingly, people have asked? Put in the simplest of terms, because I’m not that dishonest. No, this isn’t Facebook and people don’t need my password to see 90% of what I write here. Yes, this blog is perfectly and completely public, and yes, I’m very well aware of this–I made it that way for a reason. But, much like the Facebook photo incident of this past week, the only reason anything on this site became an issue at all rather than the, in my opinion, more important priority of getting to the bottom of the mess at least one person made of the last 3 months’ mountain of paperwork is because someone actually had time, and may have been getting paid for said time, to have a sit down and throw something into Google that landed them on the blog.

I’d be a freaking liar if I said I didn’t enjoy taking a look at who’s been checking this place out and from where. I’d be lying if I said I do this solely for my own benefit–Microsoft has an incredible word processor for that if I really really need something like that. But yes, primarily, this is my thing. Sometimes, my thing includes something others will find semi-useful and/or interesting–that’s what search engines are for, after all. but I have a significant problem when people actually devote time and resources to scanning this blog, or any other that I help to maintain, looking for dirt–be it on me, on friends of mine, on family, on my friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s mother’s cat. I’m not in the business of slinging mud. for that reason, you’ll find no mud on this blog to sling–be it at me, or at anyone I happen to know. I’ve called people and/or government and/or corporate entities out on this blog. I will continue to call people and/or government and/or corporate entities out on this blog, if the said people and/or government and/or corporate entities continue to screw people over on the same, consistent basis. And if the only thing certain entities can find in their obviously too much spare time to make an issue of is one line in an otherwise mild–for me, anyway–expression of general overall fed-up-ness, I must be doing something pretty damn right.

No, I’m not surprised in any way, shape or form that at least 3 ODSP locations–Kingston, Ottawa and Cornwall–have been scouting out my blog. In fact, I’m really kind of flattered that a small-time blog like this one manages to make it onto ODSP’s radar, even if it’s over what amounts to trivialities that in 6 months won’t make a whole hell of a lot of difference. But not being surprised by it doesn’t mean I agree with the fact that a government entity who has until this past week had no interest whatsoever in actually giving me a response has decided, on the public dime, to devote time and energy to looking for the smallest hint of an almost problem and trying desperately to turn it into a major issue. That’s crossing at least one line, and with very little in the way of justification for it–last week’s teleconference didn’t exactly reveal much in the way of straight answers about it. I’m still waiting. Perhaps the next time one of ODSP’s people drops in, they’ll leave a comment behind or otherwise drop me a line. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll include their justification for doing so. But if it doesn’t, on that, I also won’t be surprised.

Seems them what run the disability support system around here haven’t gotten done having fun with me yet. At the eleventh hour, escentially, with an hour left in the actual business day and therefore not a whole lot of time to actually work around their latest curve, ODSP decides they’d like to go another fun-filled round. We got on the phone with a manager this morning, due to the fact one of us can’t trust our caseworker half as far as we can throw her. Explained the situation, got told she’d look into it and get back to us by the end of business today. So I’m helping Jessica get set up for a project we’re contemplating starting work on, and the call comes in from the manager. I figure okay, she’s got answers for us. We can get part of these issues resolved hopefully before Monday, if not try and prevent the need to go in there in the first place. Not so much. Seems in their spare time, Ontario Disability Support Program employees run random Google searches on folks in the hopes of hitting on something potentially scandalous. One such employee–wouldn’t surprise me if it was the very manager we spoke to, honestly–comes across my blog. There are several pops for people showing up here using keywords related to ODSP and/or Pembroke, so that wouldn’t surprise me. She, or someone working for her, decides to take offense at one or two sentences in a post published here earlier this week. Specificly, this post published here earlier this week. They’ve decided, based on the fact they have plenty of free time and can very easily spend it on Google, that they’re not going to permit me to show up for Monday’s meeting. Taking it a step further, they have apparently decided that my showing up on Monday will constitute a perfectly good reason for them to have the police involved.

So now, not only do we have Wingnut deciding to play the privacy game only if and when it suits her, but higher level management is apparently deciding that I’m a threat to the security and safety of employees of the ministry of community and social services. Instead of me showing up there, they have proposed instead that they call at 9:00 AM on Monday morning–the smart money’s on that phone not ringing at 9:00 AM on Monday morning, just sayin’. We’ll supposedly be holding this meeting via teleconference on that day at that time with all parties involved.

So if I have this straight, and in all likelyhood I may not actually have this straight, potential privacy issues and general incompitence takes a back seat in this ministry to looking for and possibly attempting to make use of some incredibly trivial part of a blog post expressing more than a little tiny bit of frustration with the offending ministry. Really. And the tax dollars of people who actually don’t have a problem finding work are paying for this? That must go over insanely well.

I have not received any notice, written or otherwise, legal or otherwise, requesting and/or requiring me to take down or modify the offending post. Anyone who knows me probably knows just how far such a request would actually get them. The request to not show up on Monday also didn’t come in writing, legal or otherwise. The only reason I’m not seriously considering just showing up there anyway? I’m not *looking* for problems–they’re handing me enough without me helping them along with the process. This meeting will happen. This meeting will happen on Monday. And if this meeting doesn’t happen on Monday, at least one of us, probably both, will be on the next vehicle moving in an officeward direction. Oops–probably shouldn’t of said that. I’ll expect the Ottawa Valley detachment at my door Tuesday morning. Well, if you folks from the offices of the ODSP are going to spend this much time tracking what gets tossed up here when I’m not over my head in job searches, least you could do is drop a comment once in a while–say hi to that guy you’re trying to dig up some dirt on. Wait, no, nevermind–it’s much more fun to yoink lines from a random post completely out of context. My mistake. I’ll know better next time.

So as any of you who’ve been reading this thing since December are aware, it’s been somewhat of an uphill fight between the Ontario disability Support Program (ODSP), Shane, and myself. We’d go a round or two, find a clue, offer it up and have it escentially kicked across the room by someone in government who thinks they know better. We’d find more information, offer it up, complete with the math that lead us to the result you’d expect to see if you actually follow their own rules, and get summarily told we were using the wrong math. Lovely. Except in every which way that it’s not. And oh, let me count the ways. So the four of us–Shane and I, and our respective caseworkers–go several rounds about that over the course of the last month or so. And in the process of doing so, come up with the fact that not only were we using a completely different math system from what our caseworkers were, but apparently our caseworkers were using completely different systems from each other–thus resulting in completely different results being pried out of completely identical documentation. Yeah, I don’t get it either. That’s government for ya.

So we spend the better part of the last month trying to work around that, and hit one very problematic road block. Both caseworkers are clinging to privacy laws like they’re on life support. In spite of the fact half the time when we call, Shane and I are 3 feet away from each other and can get a good enough idea what the conversation’s going to end up revealing just based on one side of it. And picking up the phone and saying “by the way, you have my permission to access my case file and compare with his case”? Yeah, not good enough, apparently.

In her defense, Shane’s caseworker is at least in possession of a low-level clue. Enough of one that I don’t think her information’s the source of half our problems. Mine, on the other hand, could probably benefit from some retraining in a few key areas. In theory, I could probably have told Shane’s caseworker to go ahead and look up my file and she might have. Mine? Nope. Can’t. Privacy laws. Permission doesn’t matter. So, fast forward to Monday. Shane has to be in to see his caseworker anyway for an unrelated matter, so I bounce it off him and the wheels on the way back that we find a brand new way to tackle this small little tiny minor issue. Both caseworkers, both of us, one room, A S A fuckin’ P. So we make the call Monday afternoon. Shane’s worker, we’ll call her Clue, has absolutely no problem with it. Oh, you want a meeting? Awesome. James is coming too? Okay. He’s dragging his caseworker in as well? Hey, that works. 9:00 AM? Why not? My worker, on the other hand, we’ll call her Wingnut, takes a little more twisting, turning and kicking to get her into the same meeting. Oh, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it. We can’t have a joint conference–the other party has to be perfectly fine with it. Oh, er, he is. Well. Um. I’ll have to check with his caseworker. Oh. You did. Well, er, let me see if I’m available. Oh, crap–entire morning’s free. 9:00 AM, you say. Can I ppossibly get away with calling in sick? (Note: she didn’t actually say that last part, but you know she thought it.) Fine, fine. But I probably won’t change anything anyway.

After she ran out of excuses, we finally dragged Wingnut into the meeting schedule with the three of us. This coming Monday, sharp at 9 barring natural disasters, I have a sneaking suspicion somebody’s going to get an education in just what the hell their job involves–a little hint for those of you keeping score, it doesn’t actually involve trying your hardest to pull a fast one. So bright and early Monday, me, Shane, Clue, Wingnut, a pair of eyes of our choosing, and a small mountain of already submitted documentation will all pile into a conference room down at the place what employs ODSP peoples. A well-timed phone call could, if the need should present itself, also see she whom Wingnut and Clue report to showing up for that very same meeting.

It’s one thing for us to end up getting different results from the government. That’s kind of expected–if they can find some way to sneak it in that you don’t actually get your hands on everything you should, they’ll do so. If you don’t expect it, well, sorry. But when two government employees, handling two different case files, get slapped with the exact same supporting documentation for both case files and come up with completely different results, even from one another, Houston, we has a problem. When we can take a look at the inner math supposedly behind both cases, even after having said inner math explained to us, and still end up being sent for a loop thanks largely to the fact the results don’t even look like they *should* be close, yeah, say hello to the red flag, ladies and thinggies. Somebody’s not giving us the goods, and I have a sneaking suspicion it’s not Clue. I have an equally deep suspicion the problem will be solved, or unemployed, before this issue’s fully delt with. I hate being screwed with.

Oh, and miss permission doesn’t bypass privacy laws? Turns out that only applies if you’re not Wingnut, apparently. According to her, she and Clue had a conference re: this issue in which both our cases were discussed. Neither Shane nor I were informed of such a conference, as we would have needed to be in order to be fully in compliance with privacy laws. Clue, naturally, didn’t exactly confirm they held a conference re: our respective cases, so once again, somebody’s either lying or violating those same privacy laws she has no problem slapping us in the face with. That gets added to the list of, shall we say, topics on the agenda for Monday’s meeting. This, combined with the few months of back and forth that haven’t really gotten us anywhere, combined with the fact 90% of this issue could have probably been cleaned up if they’d either 1: actually compared notes or 2: applied just a little bit of consistency to their own procedures, is going to make for a quite interesting morning. I have a sneaking suspicion one of us is going to come away bloody. And I’ll be quite damned if it’s gonna be me.

It’s no secret the CRTC has spent most of this year failing at this whole keeping the big 3 ISP’s in Canada at something vaguely resembling in line. They decided nearly two months ago that unlimitted internet didn’t actually exist, and kind of stuck to that until escentially told not to be–Shane’s take on how that ended up playing out is over here. Then, they decided it might be in their best interest to put the idea up for a review and get back to it in 60 days. I thought they might take advantage of the election to change their mind again, but before they could, Bell Canada–one of the big 3 who’re sitting comfortable behind usage-based billing (UBB) decided to get crafty.

Bell, in a submission to the CRTC yesterday, dropped its usage-based billing demands of the third-party ISP’s, one of which I’m currently a customer. Well, they sort of did. They replaced it with agrigated volume pricing (AVP), also known as UBB 2.0. Rather than charging ISP’s for what they’ve used after they’ve already used it, Bell is now looking at the possibility of having them purchase a certain amount of bandwidth from them, and god help them if they underestimate how much they’ll need. Yep, download cap 2.0, kids. Officially screwed? You betcha. And Netflix knows it. In direct response to the fact their Canadian branch is among those being targetted by these measures, Netflix Canada has officially lowered the quality of its video streaming service. Oh, yeah, and they kind of pointed out what I’ve been saying for at least the last month–the only ones benefitting from it are the big 3. Oh and, guess what? Here’s the kicker–Bell’s customers still get the pleasure of dealing with UBB while they slap us in the face with AVP. Forget officially screwed. We’re heading straight down the road to officially ripped the hell off.