Naked greed and hatred

Ahem, I am caving in here to commercial pressures and put a little 'PayPal' button on the sidebar so that any dear, sweet, (Hurls breakfast - sorry about the mess) reader who feels charitably inclined towards this poor old, knackered (Coff, and even more pathetically, coff, coff) ex-enforcement officer can make a direct donation towards keeping this bog alive. I've tried putting stuff up for sale, writing a book and Google's Adsense, now this. Spare a penny or two guv'nor(s) and I'll keep the rabid drivel even more rabid. Hells bells, I'll even (Oh dear God the shame of it) do request items.

Tell you the truth, I've had a day. Immigration were not sympathetic and said bluntly about Mrs S's updated and activated Social Insurance Number; "Oh dear, they shouldn't have done that." The 'They' being Services Canada. Apparently, according to Immigration, even though the Tax people said that the opposite was the case, until our Permanent Residency application is processed (An event I am told which is three years in the future), my wife cannot use her SIN number to get a job. We have to still go the long way round, despite the fact that she is officially a 'Landed Migrant' and the SIN cards legitimacy has never been questioned by anyone else.

Now if you'll forgive me, I'm not a little miffed about this. I've put a lot of emotional capital into this emigration thing, and to be constantly rebuffed in this manner is something I thought I'd left behind on the streets of England. At about half past eleven this morning I announced to Mrs S; "Sorry love, I've lost the will to live." and went and sulked in the car reading John Grisham's 'King of Torts' while she went to the other two appointments she had arranged for early afternoon.

All the extra immigration rules that have come in since the events of 9/11 have made the lives of us ordinary folk just that much harder, and I not only blame the politicians for tying the hands of the security services and Police, but I also blame Osama Bin Laden and his fellow travellers for declaring a pointless war on the West. If it hadn't been for that egomaniacal half wit, Mrs S and I would be well on our way to being citizens of Canada right now.

When he dies and is buried, should the opportunity arise, I intend to take a pilgramage to his grave, and then I am going to piss all over it. I suspect I may have to join an extremely long queue. This is not because I have anything against Islam as a religion, just that particular cunt. Then when I die, I am (If there is such a place) going straight to Hell and volunteer for a job as a demon just so I can torment that motherfucker and all his little friends for the whole of eternity. He'll be there, no one can kill that many and go anywhere but. It'll be worth it.

Maybe we should

Browsing through the opinions of the Daily Telegraph’s ‘Your View’ during a bad quarter hour and felt moved to put my five pennorth in.

Far too often in those columns you can hear the rattling of tiny minds in large skulls. ‘Ban this’, ‘the government should do something about it’, and ‘God doesn’t like it’ seem to be widely held views. I would take issue with all three mindsets.

Let’s have a sidelong look at the ‘ban’ faction. They have no imagination and possibly even less charm. These are the Captain Mainwarings, the narrow, pompous, blustering people who don’t know much, only what they don’t like. Oh and incidentally – it shouldn’t be allowed – whatever it is. Especially if someone is doing no harm at all to others.

A lot of the ‘ban’ faction also belongs to the ‘the government should do something about it’ group. May I ask like what? Successive UK Governments have proved, not least of all the bunch of jokers currently holding the (Supposed) reins of power, to be superbly inept when it comes to ‘doing something’ for the people they purport to represent. When voting, I always feel that my franchise is rarely little more than a vain attempt at damage limitation.

Finally there is the ‘God says so’, or ‘it is against the will of the Lord’ body of opinion. Says who? Men who wander round in anachronistic clothing and belong to an institutionalised religion? I wonder how they know. I’m pretty certain that none of them have a direct line to God (Or the gods) and even if they did, wouldn’t be listening if he spoke to them.

Maybe we should stop listening to these people and just get on with the business of living. Maybe I should simply stop reading and commenting in said columns, but it's just so all fired tempting; and I can resist everything but temptation.

Where there's smoke

I missed this one, but apparently the forces of repression are already closing in on Jeremy Clarkson for lighting up a pipe of something herbal (Skunk, Ganja, Weed? So long as it ain’t tobacco they haven’t really broken any laws eh?) with fellow presenter James May during a recording of Top Gear.

Even though Clarkson often espouses views opposed to my own, I can’t help admiring the guy for his forthright buffoonery.

Over in BC recently we had a guy on the radio who spoke about immigrants who didn’t want to ‘fit in’ with Canadian society. With John Howard like bluntness he said that people who didn’t want to integrate should go to another country to settle. There were a few calls for his resignation, but his colleagues rallied round and spoke up for him on air. Their mantra was “We have free speech here in Canada. If you don’t like what someone has said – ring in, disagree.“

What a breath of fresh air.

Serendipity sometimes serendips

Sometimes, just sometimes, you want to get down on your bended and kiss somebody's feet. Today has that kind of feel. After what feels like months of beating one's head agaist the concrete barricades of immigration officialdom, what Robert Heinlein called 'the Fairy Godmother Department' in his novel 'Glory Road' opened it's doors and invited us in.

I went to the local offices of the HRDC to enquire about applying for a Canadian Social Insurance Number, only to be told I didn't need to apply if I was only going to do freelance work for an English company while I'm here and simply paid my taxes back home. Mrs S was to get a bigger surprise. Just in passing, I asked the clerk about how long a Canadian SIN lasts. "All your life." Responded the clerk.
"Really?" Quoth I.
"You aren't eligible at present. Does your wife have one?" She asked.
"Yes she does." I responded. "Would it still be valid?"
"I can't tell you that." Said the clerk. "But I can tell your wife if you bring her."
"Stay right there." I said and dashed off in search of Mrs S.

Half an hour later I crossed paths with Mrs S and we returned to the HRDC Pensions Office after an anxious call to Bathurst, Ottawa, confirmed that we had to go back to the local office. Two hours and four puzzled pensions clerks later, we were told that the SIN card my wife had been issued with at age 15 was still valid, as was her "Landed Migrant" status. All this after being turned down flat by another clerk at the Canadian High Commission in London three years before.

As we left, we were assured that the SIN card, which had been 'Dormant' would now be updated and reactivated, and provided the local HRDC Offices decision was upheld, my wife wouldn't need a work permit at all as she was already entitled to work legally in Canada (So we were told).

This means (All being well and provided the respective decisions are upheld) that we can both work without falling foul of officialdom and get deported for being naughty. I'm feeling happy about this already, although I'm having a lot of trouble walking properly with my fingers, toes, nostrils and eyes crossed for luck.

Just in case.