Vandalizing the census – cont.
Gus Reed really hates the long census questionnaire:I admit to some disappointment that you have so totally and uncritically capitulated to the Forces of Social Planning on the census issue. Contrarians need to be contrary. Apart from the indisputably careless design of the long form (or the sloppy posting of an unedited version), there are a couple of things that rankle: Many of the questions are sort of inherently interesting, but that doesn't mean they should be asked. What government policy hinges on knowing the birthplace of my parents (#25)? I like this statement attached to the race/ethnicity question: "This information is collected to support programs that promote equal opportunity for everyone to share in the social, cultural and economic life of Canada." It would be good discipline to have such a statement attached to each question, or at least each section. If the statement is not succinct and understandable, then it's a good indication that someone's just fishing: "We want to know where your parents were born because your government is considering a system of preferential immigration based on national origin."More argument, and Contrarian rebuttal, after the jump - photos included!
29 July, 2010
Rosie, who died yesterday at 13, was the World's Most Food-Motivated Dog. She won the title with a stunt modern science has yet to explain.
One evening about five years ago, I returned home from a day-trip to Sydney with a notion to make a sardine sandwich for supper. I had left an unopened tin of sardines on the kitchen table before leaving for town. At least, I thought I had, but now I couldn't find it.
Losing things is nothing new for Contrarian, and finding them is not his long suit. I spent a few minutes searching for the sardines, then made something else for supper.
While putting Rosie to bed later that night, I spotted the sardine can stashed among the blankets at the back of her sleeping crate. She had chewed the top off, and extracted every morsel of fish and every drop of sardine oil. The can didn't even smell of sardines anymore.
In horror, I rushed to inspect Rosie's mouth, expecting to find her lips and tongue shredded. Not a nick. Rosie was fit as a fiddle, and wondering when her next meal would arrive.
"Golden slumber close your eyes." And sate your tummy.
[More tributes after the jump.]