New Media

Once again, the city of Vancouver wins top rank in North America in the Mercer Quality of Living survey, fourth-place worldwide. We rock.

Sorry Baghdad, for scoring dead-last. Ouch. But on the plus side, you can only go up from there.

Some scenes from our little slice of paradise on the Pacific Rim:

There are hundreds of Tamil-Canadian protesters a stone’s throw from my office near the US consulate in downtown Vancouver. Their drums and chants are pretty catchy (and distracting the hell out of the IT consultants hunched frowning over their keyboards). Their flags – the flag of a recognized terrorist organization – are even more attention-grabbing.

It appears the Tamil protesters’ black flags of mourning were a short-lived tactic that could not win the support of their constituents, who continue to show allegiance to the flag of the Tamil Tigers – a group accused of (inventing) suicide bombings, recruiting child soldiers, ethnic cleansing and a bunch of other behavior most of my fellow citizens would consider un-Canadian. Interestingly, large Canadian and American flags are also waving in the crowd.

I spoke in passing with one of the protesters while wandering back to the office with some sushi. “I think you’d get more support for your cause if you put away the flag with the guns on it,” I offered. “It’s the flag of a terrorist organization. You want independence, great! But you know what that flag represents.”

“This is our national flag!” replied the over-eager protester. His friend added that it had been their flag for 1,500 years. Could I be so perverse as to argue with him that, technically, there is no Tamil state (and the chances of it ever being realized appear to be diminishing rapidly each day, thanks to the efficient gains of the Sri Lankan army) and that the firearms on the flag would not have been around 1,500 years ago?

I walked away.

What was the point? They’ve chosen this flag to represent their national aspirations and will not be convinced otherwise. If they’re blind to the implications of their own symbols, Canadians of all stripes and our elected representatives will continue to remain deaf to their chants for international intervention.

UPDATE: This post has been published at the National Post’s Full Comment section under the title, Tamils Drop Their Black Flags in Favour of Terrorist Option.

As a response to a fairly consistent theme in the comments at the NP, I would remind readers that I have nothing against Tamils protesting – frankly, given the circumstances, I’d be surprised and disappointed if they didn’t. What I’m criticizing is their choice of symbol, a flag recognized by anyone familiar with this conflict as being synonymous with terrorism. If they truly want the help and sympathy of their fellow Canadians, they ought to at least go back to the black flag they used for all of two minutes. A little pragmatism could go a long way politically.

I recently had the opportunity to hang out at Calgary Zoo, also home to a wide range of very life-like dinosaurs.

I always feel guilty visiting zoos, given that the enclosures are so pathetic compared with the size of a comfortable habitat for creatures in the wild. Keeping animals in captivity is just cruel, no matter how one spins the benefits of zoos. If all zoos closed tomorrow, it would be a good thing.

That said, there’s not much else to do or see in Calgary, and I figured a personal boycott wouldn’t amount to much. Hence, I have some pretty neat photos of the captive species, as well as the dino-statues. Enjoy.

I’ve watched my blog’s traffic dwindle the past few weeks from an impressive steady stream to a pitiful trickle, even as my direct traffic from my RSS feed syndication on other websites has kept increasing as I’ve added fresh content. Comments became a rare event.

It’s been frustrating. On a hunch today, I pasted some text from some recent posts into a Google search bar only to be rewarded with no love. I was invisible to Google.

My blog was dying.

Finally figured out the problem this evening: Wordpress privacy settings.

Ever since I fixed my blog’s design issue a few weeks back, the setting has been on “I would like to block search engines, but allow normal visitors”. Ouch.

This sucks. My traffic has taken a hit, just as I got some pretty decent attention from the mainstream media (not sure when CNN is going to come calling again) and it’s going to be a hassle to get it back.

Let this be a cautionary tale to other Wordpress users: check your privacy settings and make sure you’re not hiding yourself from the search engines.

The voice of Canadian stand-up comedy has found it’s new voice. That innovative gut-splitting style of non-hilarity belongs to yours truly. Enjoy this exclusive review, provided by Earnest Canuck and gifted satirist Lyle Neff, written without malice on the day of our sober-minded antics at Yuk Yuks comedy club in downtown Vancouver.

The Stand-Up Comedy of Jonathon Narvey

Narvey’s subversive set always opens during the endgame of the preceding comedian’s. The comic on the Yuk Yuk’s microphone will be yelling something like, “Am I right, people? No Canadian would ever bodycheck a doughnut, am I right? Thank you!” — and behind him Jon will wander onto and across the stage, wearing a headphone mic, muttering into his netbook, smartphone on his belt.

As the unfortunate opening act says his farewells, Narvey’s shtick rehearsal lines start becoming audible. “There is something amusing about the yellow pages,” he might be heard to say, “and I have to say what. In a funny way. Funnily, Jon. Oh my. Oh lord, I’m not ready for this.”

Narvey sometimes clears his throat at this point and asks himself in an unnaturally deep voice: “Have you ever noticed that the yellow pages are not, ha-ha, actually yellow in colour?” Or he might whisper: “Fine, Jon. Mohammed. Jesus. In a bar. Where’s the rhyme? Jehovah, inshallah, your mother… yo mama, Jon. Yo mama. Yo mama.”

JN’s real set only begins when an amplified offstage voice suddenly booms out his act’s cherished catchphrase: “HOLY BUTT OF COCK, SHUT IT, NARVEY, I THINK THAT MIC IS LIVE.” At which point Narvey will “notice” the audience and freeze, like a deer that is anxious about public speaking. The Narveyheads in the front row — cultish fans of the comedy of unfunniness — will then, ritualistically, boo him off the stage for a lengthy period.

Post-intermission, if the vibe is right, Narvey will return to the stage and do a legendary routine wherein it appears the PA is broken and no one can hear his lengthy gag about how you can’t recycle bicycles. On the comedian’s most notorious YouTube video, Narvey inaudibly mocks a heckler for complaining about the club’s acoustics; the audience member then clambers onstage and, in eerie silence, breaks the funnyman’s jaw in four places with a lead pipe.

More typically, a Jon Narvey set is a meta-exercise in anti-hilarity, sobering punchlines and decent respectable behaviour. The Narveyheads who follow him from nightclub to nightclub do so expressly in order to take him seriously — or so I was told by the president of his fan club in an interview. “Jonathon Narvey is as acceptable as clowns get,” Jane Good averred; “his shirts are frequently ironed, and no one in his family is ticklish.”

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Here are some samples of Jon “Narvey” Narvey’s immortal comedy stylings, including dialogue from his short-lived sitcom, Mutually Respectful People Having Minor Misunderstandings.

“What is it with people holding doors open for me? They must think I am a non-door-opening guy. It almost makes me want to say something.”

“Knock knock.
“Who’s there?
“Waiting Politely.
“Waiting Politely who?
[Lengthy pause]
“Waiting Politely… to see if you’ve finished speaking.”

“So I read in the paper that women wear skirts. Well, believe you me, men wear skirts too sometimes. Folks, I’ve even seen women wearing pants! It’s just crazy.”

“God walks into a bar. ‘What can I make for you, sir?’ inquires the barkeep… goes the publican… the bartender asks. So God says, ‘Hey, I already made everything in here. I’m omnipotent. In fact, I’m already drunk!”