Fishing in Toronto

            On Saturday morning as usual I was practicing singing and playing guitar when the late April sky betrayed us and it started to snow for a couple of minutes. Through the blowing crystals I saw in the distance walking up Dunn Avenue someone that looked like they had a big golden brown blanket bunched up on their shoulders and covering their head. As the person got closer I saw that it was a middle-aged woman with the largest head of dreadlocks I had ever seen. If she had stretched her arms out sideways and then swept them up to reach for the sky it would have defined the range of growth and the circumference of her hair. She went into the donut shop beneath me and emerged a few minutes later. She stood at the corner and it looked like she was waiting for the walk signal but when the little white man appeared she did not make a move towards him. The light went back to red. After a while she was gone and I thought she had gotten in the taxi that had stopped near her but a few minutes later she was crossing to the southwest corner by the other walk signal and then she went back down Dunn, sometimes stopping like a bushy statue in the middle of the street for a couple of minutes before continuing on. She must be new to the neighbourhood because I see everyone from my window and I’d never seen her before. An online image search that afternoon found some longer dreadlocks but nothing as big and wild as hers.

            At 9:30 I got ready to go to the food bank and since it looked colder outside than it's been lately I put on an extra shirt, wore a scarf and slipped my hands into my spring gloves. That seemed fine at first but later I wished that I’d gone with my full winter attire.

            The line of carts was much shorter than last week and the only person in line was the tall slim, goateed guy with the long grey woollen coat and the poor boy cap, whom I’ve talked with there before. As I was locking my bike a gust of wind sent three carts rolling away to the west, all in a perfect row. I suggested that maybe the carts know something we don’t and that maybe to the west there was something more rewarding than the food bank line-up. He told me that he’d gone after those carts several times already even though none of them were his. I said that it might be a good lesson for those that leave their carts unattended to just let them blow away.

            We chatted a bit and then I started reading my dual language book, continuing from where I left off in September with Gustav Flaubert’s story, “St Julian the Hospitaler”. Early in the story, after his mother had given birth to Julian, a hermit appeared in her bedroom and told her that her son would be a saint. At the same time a gypsy emerged from the mist outside the castle to inform the father that his son would have an emperor's family but there would be much blood. Years later when Julian had become a merciless hunter, after he’d slaughtered the family of a stag, the stag would not die until it had uttered a curse that Julian would kill his own mother and father. After several close calls in which Julian almost did accidentally kill his parents, he ran away. He became a great warrior and after saving the kingdom of the emperor of Occitania, Julian fell in love with the emperor’s daughter and she with him. He was given her hand in marriage and he lived in opulence in his own castle. After a few years he became restless and decided to go on a hunting trip. While he was away an impoverished and starving elderly couple arrived at his home. They were received by Julian's wife and they revealed to her that they were Julian's parents. That's as far as I got but I'm guessing that Julian comes home, thinks the old couple are intruders and kills them.

            The guy in the woollen coat suddenly decided to leave.

            After a while a guy standing about three places back started chatting with me, beginning with how cold it was. He said he’s spent three winters in Toronto so far and it’s very difficult. I asked him where he’s from and he said that he's originally from Somalia but that he lived in a few African countries like Kenya and Ethiopia before coming here.

            I told him that my upstairs neighbour is from Ethiopia and that he has a farm back there. When he retires from his job as a crane operator at the portlands he plans on moving back to his family’s land. My Somalian companion declared that being a crane operator is the next best thing to being a pilot.

            He said that Somalia was a paradise before the war and if he were there right now he would be fishing on the longest coastline in the world and not standing in the food bank line-up. Actually Somalia has the longest coastline in Africa, but not the world. Canada has the longest coastline in the world. If he really likes fishing he could fish right here in Toronto at various locations like the Toronto Islands or the Humber Marsh. It would only cost him $100 to get a licence that would last him three years.

            He went on a long rant about the UN being the most evil organization in the world and that it conspires to kill Africans with malaria, starvation and war. He claimed that the UN has invented the concept of the African dictator and said that Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe did great things for his country. The fact remains that hundreds of thousands were dancing in the street when Mugabe stepped down, though nothing has really changed economically in the year since that happened.

            My Somalian friend’s claims about the UN seem steeped in nutty conspiracy theories. The UN has prevented epidemics, starvation and wars in Africa. The UN eradicated smallpox from the face of the Earth.

            He claimed that the UN sent Somalia rotten corn. I don’t know anything about that but I guess with an organization of that size screw-ups are possible. I doubt very much if they deliberately sent bad food to Somalia.

            I argued that there are African countries in the UN but he said they are just there for show. I think my friend is severely undereducated about the UN. There are 54 African countries in the United Nations and Africa makes up 28% of the UN.

            I think he has certain former colonialist superpowers mixed up with the UN. The primary culprits in screwing up Somalia are impirial Britain and fascist Italy. They divided the country in the 1920s. After World War II the UN allowed Italy to protect their section of Somalia as long as it was given independence in ten years. During that time, under UN supervision a great effort was made to teach the Italian protectorate of Somalia how to govern itself. The problem is that Britain did not do the same with its section and so when the two parts were reunited there was conflict. The wounds have yet to heal.

            He expressed contempt for Canada and said that he is only here because he was forced to come here by the UN’s corruption of Somalia. He declared that even though he is a Muslim he would never pray in Canada because he refuses to touch his forehead to Canadian ground. He said that he wished that he’d been one of the Muslim’s shot in New Zealand so he could see what god would think of all that. But it’s safe to assume that if he were in New Zealand that he would have had the same attitude about praying there and so he would not have had the possibility or being shot in the Christ Church mosque because he never would have gone there to pray.

            Bob Dylan’s “I Pity the Poor Immigrant” comes to mind.

            He said that he feels closer to Jesus in Canada and told me that Jesus is the most mentioned person in the Koran. I had read that but I said that it doesn’t prove that Jesus existed and it certainly doesn’t prove that god exists. He said the fact that he has eyes and breath proves that god exists but I said those things could have just happened. He also claimed that the Qu’ran and the Bible are proof that god exists but that makes even less sense.

I didn’t tell him this but the reason he’s so angry seems to be tied up with a conflict between his faith and his sense of self. Believing he was created by god makes him feel important to the universe but that sense of importance in relation to his own adverse circumstances has made him bitter. I on the other hand don’t think that I need to be important to the universe but only to myself and that liberates me to care about other people because my self is happier when I get along with those around me. If he were to stop believing in god it might free him up to stop being such a whiny little bitch.

To be fair I think my Somalian friend has some kind of a mental illness that enhances delusional thinking. His speech is often accompanied by jerking movements and he does not always appear to be thinking before he speaks, while his eyes seem unfocused. But if he feels the need to self-medicate with religion he’s got to get over this bitterness about being in Canada. If he can’t be in Somalia and he’s stuck here he should accept it and get on with his life. Maybe he’s afraid that if he starts loving Canada he will stop loving Somalia but that’s not how it works. There is a Somalian community in Toronto with many members that can serve as examples for him. One of them, Saron Gebresellassie ran for mayor and I voted for her. Chances are most of them are Muslims and they might be able to teach him to stop pussyfooting around about worshiping here and they can demonstrate what horseshit it is to pretend you can’t touch your forehead to the ground in Canada.

            A woman walked by whom I often see panhandling in front of my building and shouting at people in an often sexually provocative manner. Someone in the line-up asked her as she passed how she keeps warm. She answered, “I fuck!” My companion suddenly lost his Somalian accent and assumed one closer to inner cities of the United States when he smiled and said, “Damn!”          

            I asked him his name and he told me, “It’s a secret”. He said that people have to be careful because they can be shot like 50 Cent. He claimed that 50 Cent was shot by the FBI but the main theory of what happened is that Mike Tyson’s bodyguard Darryl Baum was hired to kill 50 Cent, some say by a crack dealer that didn’t like that the details of his operation were mentioned in the 50 Cent song “Ghetto Qu’ran”. Another theory is that Baum shot Fiddy because he had dissed his girlfriend, Lil Kim. It doesn’t make sense that the FBI would want him dead.

            Downstairs my helper at the shelves was the youngest of the regular volunteers, whose mother also sometimes works there. At the first set of shelves he said, “Just one from the top and one from the bottom, so make wise choices!” That seemed pretty condescending to me. I asked, “Why would you think that I wouldn’t choose wisely?” He said, “Well, a lot of people don’t”. I said, “That would be their choice”. If the food bank is presenting choices that he considers unwise he should take it up with them so they can only put “wise” choices on the shelves.

            I took a carton of romano cheese and honey crackers, a box of gourmet oatmeal and raisin cookies, a can of “baked” beans, a tin of tuna and another of tomato sauce.

            In Angie’s section she asked me in a low voice if I wanted some OJ, then she looked both ways and passed me a 1.75 litre carton. I told her I didn’t need milk, eggs or yogourt, but only some meat. She gave me a choice of ham or a large frozen pot roast dinner with potatoes by Kirkland Signature, which I guess is Costco’s version of President’s Choice. I took the pot roast dinner because I’d just finished eating the ham I’d gotten from her last week and I was all hammed out.

            While waiting for vegetables from Sylvia I grabbed a loaf of roasted garlic bread.

            I heard arguing behind me and turned to see my Somalian friend at the reception desk refusing to give his name and birth date. It occurred to me later that maybe his reason for both not wanting to give his name to me or to the food bank is that he’s here illegally. That would also flounder his chances of getting a fishing licence.

            Sylvia gave me a bag of rainbow carrots, a red pepper, a seedless cucumber and five apples. She let me know that there was another box of items that I could choose from on the way out and so I grabbed a small bag of baby spinach and a one-kilogram container of strawberries.

             As I was unlocking my bike a Tibetan man who was still waiting to go in asked me if it was any good this time. I told him it was much more satisfying than the previous week. He agreed that last week hadn’t been very good and wished me a great day.

            Since I’d already gone to the supermarket on Friday I just went straight home with my items. Our entryway smells like urine because the front door doesn’t lock unless we pull it shut and some tenants forget to do so, which allowed someone to come in recently and take a pee.

It turned out that so many of the strawberries were rotten that after cutting out all the bad parts I only ended up with little more than half a pint. Despite that the food bank was still a better haul this time.

I had a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch.

That night I grilled a couple of burgers and had one in a sandwich made from one slice of toasted bread with tomato, cucumber, ketchup, mustard, relish and a beer while watching the season finale of Star Trek Discovery.

Spoiler alert!

This story is a continuation of the previous episode. The Discovery and the Enterprise are preparing to do battle with Leland’s Section 31 ships. They are to provide cover for Michael as her red angel suit is prepared and for her to open a wormhole through which Discovery can follow her into the future to protect the Sphere data from Leland. It turns out that Leland is the only life form aboard any of the Section 31 vessels and as he is simply a human embodiment of the Control computer system, his ships and their thousands of drones are all coordinated with one mind. When the battle begins there is a lot of boring CGI of the drones flying around and firing. As the engineering crew is making the final additions to the Red Angel suit Stametz is severely injured and in the understandably busy sick bay, Culber puts him in a coma, but as he is going under tells him that he’s decided that his life is with him after all. A timed photon torpedo has breached the hull of the Enterprise and the admiral goes down to try to disable it, but can’t. The blast door to contain the explosion can only be closed from the inside and so she sacrifices herself. Spock runs point for Michael in a shuttle as she runs and jumps from the Discovery. The defensive ships cover them and make a path to the perimeter of the battle where Spock and Michael land and she prepares to jump. Suddenly at the battle site several Kelpian battle cruisers including one piloted by Saru’s sister Siranna come out of warp. It seems implausible that she would go from being a gardener priest a few weeks ago to a space warrior. Also arriving at the same time is a Klingon warbird commanded by L’Rell, with Ash also on board and several other Klingon vessels. They all join in the fight against Control.

Meanwhile Michael cannot get the suit to allow her to create a wormhole into the future. Spock figures out that it’s because she has yet to leave the previous five red signals in space that we have seen throughout this season. So she has to first go to the past to the dark matter asteroid; then to the Earth colony on Terralisium that her mother had transported there centuries before; then to Kaminar; then to Boras where Pike acquired the time crystal and finally to Zahia where Po showed them how to power the crystal. With all of those signals set in the past she is able to return to where Spock is to prepare for the jump to Terralisium 930 years into the future.

Meanwhile Leland beams onto Discovery to get the Sphere data but finds it is not in the location he’d expected. Philippa and Nahn confront him and Philippa teases him with the fact that she’s put the data in a small hidden device. There are some very long hand-to-hand battle scenes between Leland and the two women and of course he is almost indestructible. They lead him away and he finally figures out that the Sphere data is in the spore drive console of engineering. But it is a trap and as he arrives there Philippa contains him in the spore console. 

Michael sets the coordinates and is ready to jump but Spock reveals that he won’t be going with her because his shuttle has been damaged and he can’t get back to Discovery. They can’t lower their shields to beam him aboard because the battle is still going on. So Michael has to say goodbye to Spock and jump to open the wormhole. Discovery follows her.

            Leland tries to break out of the spore console but Philippa releases the spores, which begin to slowly eat him while Philippa stands there laughing sadistically at his torture. When Leland dies all of the Control ships go dead as well. Pike orders them destroyed anyway.

            Michael opens the wormhole and Discovery follows her through.

            The closing scenes show the basic cleanup of the Star Trek information regarding Discovery and Michael Burnham. In interviews with Star Fleet Command all of the crew of The Enterprise tell the same story that Discovery was destroyed and Michael Burnham is dead. Star Fleet makes Ash the head of Section 31. Spock advises Star Fleet to wipe all data of Discovery and the time suit because it could have catastrophic results in the future.

            Spock shaves his beard and reassumes his role as science officer on the Enterprise with Pike as the captain. From the Enterprise they see the seventh red signal left by Michael 51,000 light years away.

            In the closing music they nicely combine the Discovery theme music with the music from the original Star Trek show.