Olympic Mural Rises Again

crying room original olympic mural

original photo by The Blackbird

Have you seen this mural?

Not recently, you haven’t, because it was removed on the orders of Vancouver City Hall, which is apparently in the business of making sure the Olympic Committee don’t get their feelings hurt, rather than in the business of defending the rights of Canadians to the free expression guaranteed them under the Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

The gallery says in 10 years, it has never before been asked to remove any work.

The city issued the order under its graffiti bylaw, but it comes in the wake of a debate over a controversial city sign bylaw that opponents feared would allow officials to stifle anti-Olympic expression.

“It was pretty clear to me that it was because of the context of the work,” says Colleen Heslin, who runs the Crying Room, a small studio focusing on emerging artists.

Ms. Heslin points out that over the years she has hung about 30 murals there, and has never had any trouble. She has also used that space as a giant chalkboard, allowing passersby to write or draw whatever they wanted (which included swear words) and was never asked to remove that either.

In fact, when her landlord, Peter Wong, received a notice from the city telling him to remove the graffiti from his building, he had no idea what they were talking about. “I called them and said I cannot find the graffiti. And they said the sign [the mural] is graffiti…”

Patrick Smith, director of Simon Fraser University’s Institute of Governance Studies, said the removal of the sign is symptomatic of the high demands the “Olympic movement” places on its host cities. He believes Vancouver will be the beginning of a shift away from the modern Olympic era, with communities saying the cost of hosting is too high.

“A lot is asked of communities, and it seems to me this is a perfectly good example of where we’ve gone too far,” he said. “There’s no other way to describe it other than overreaction, but it’s the city trying to protect a brand that’s not the city’s brand. It’s the Olympic movement’s brand.”

Malcolm asked if the one in the bottom right-hand corner was Gregor Robertson.

And there was mourning throughout the land, or at least the Downtown Eastside. Even the revered and untouchable Globe and Mail, which had at first featured the image in its article, got out the virtual putty knives and scraped it right off their website, and the bittersweet little mural was removed from the face of the Earth AND the Googleplex.

But not for long, for over on Facebook a spontaneous, outraged movement started, a movement with sharpie-inscribed samizdat tee shirts and all manner of Olympic Mural as Facebook Profile Pic mayhem, and soon, just like in Peter Pan when Tink is dying and you clap your hands to save her (you DO clap your hands, don’t you? And ring a bell at Christmas, so an angel gets its wings? Of course you do, because you don’t want me to come over there and give your sorry motherfucking ass the beat-down), the heartfelt wishes of the good little boys and girls and the undecideds notthatthere’sanythingwrongwiththat all over the Downtown Eastside were heard and the mural rose again.

Here it is as of now:

Crying Room Olympic Mural Dec 13 2009

And, for as long as it lasts, you can see it in my Flickr stream, in my Facebook photos, on this blog, and at Main and Cordova.

As far as I can tell, it’s the original piece, with a little bit of touching up around the smiley face.

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Economic Theory 101: the raincoaster index

If only I could afford the barrel

If you’re an economist, you’ve probably heard about all kinds of bizarre and no doubt three-letter-acronymed thingies that measure vitality of the economy. If you’re not an economist (demographically speaking, it is indeed likely that people reading my blog are not economists, as surprising as that may seem) you may have heard of things like the GDP, SET index, and similiar TLA‘s, but have you heard of:

The Hotness Index

The hotter the waitresses, the weaker the economy. In flush times, there is a robust market for hotness. Selling everything from condos to premium vodka is enhanced by proximity to pretty young people (of both sexes) who get paid for providing this service. That leaves more-punishing work, like waiting tables, to those with less striking genetic gifts. But not anymore.

A waitress at one Lower East Side club described to me what happened there: “They slowly let the boys go, then the less attractive girls, and then these hot girls appeared out of nowhere. All in the hope of bringing in more business. The managers even admitted it. These hot girls that once thrived on the generosity of their friends in the scene for hookups—hosting events, marketing brands, modeling—are now hunting for work.” A Soho restaurateur I know recently received applications from “a couple of classic Eastern European fembots. Once upon a time, these ladies must’ve made $1,500 a night lap dancing. At my place, they’re not going to make that in a week.”

In the same vein, and somewhat more directly relevant, at least to MY life and probably to yours, too, since who can afford to eat out anymore, I’d like to present:

The raincoaster Index

Image of raincoaster raincoaster
12/14/09

I was invited to fourteen corporate holiday parties last year, all within walking distance of one another, all with open bars. This year, NONE! And I didn’t suddenly become more obnoxious, companies have really cut back.

Okay, gripe over. Fucking cheapskates.

@raincoaster: I’m convinced that your drinking binges are a better measure of the economy than the number of advance durable goods shipments.

Questions? Challenges? Drink offers?

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Quiz: which cheese are you?

This just may be the single LEAST accurate internet quiz of all time, and that includes the “underwear oracle.” I mean, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, what’s up with this????


You Are Mozzarella


You are mild mannered and pleasant. You are extremely easy going.

You are also quite lovable and tender. You wear your heart on your sleeve.

You never try to complicate matters or bring drama. You just go with the flow.

You are very delicate and sensitive. It’s easy for you to be overpowered by stronger forces.

The FUCK??? I guess “Big” was taken?

Open House: BOB Coworking Space Saves Digital Nomad from Homicidal Rage

come to the dark side we have cookies

We also have an Open House this coming Friday, December 18th, from noon onwards
163 East Pender Street, Vangroover, BC
and yes, we DO have cookies. Or at least apple tarts.

Speaking of which:

Donations to the Food Bank encouraged.
There are some great suggestions for practical, welcome donations in my post at Miss604.
If I do say so myself.

Here’s Muskie’s much-more-dignified article on the new coworking space at BOB. If you prefer your news with a side of funky, read on here.

After months of digital nomadism (entirely overrated, thanks for the brainwashing, Fast Company!) bravely trekking my gear from web cafe to web cafe, always seeking that elusive chair with a view, a plug, free wifi, decent coffee, and at least one sturdy wall between me and any obviously dangerous lunatics, I’ve finally found a home.

And no, I won’t get Dooced this time. We already worked that out. “We don’t really care if you say anything nasty about us” is sort of a precondition of working with me, as some of you may have noticed.

I’ve found my new home just down the street from my house; in fact, it’s between my house and the Irish Heather, which pretty much guarantees I’ll drop in from time to time and get some work done. It’s on the ground floor of the offices of BOB, Building Opportunities for Business, which basically exists to attract and support business on the Downtown Eastside without displacing, well, the people who live here.

Like me.

So, BOB is my homeboy, and he could be your homeboy too, since there are 20 19 18 spaces left for people looking for a great place to work on their own stuff. In the tradition of the late, lamented Workspace, the BOB co-working space (which really needs a snappier name and I’ll get on that as soon as I’ve settled in) offers a variety of free-range desk space, a kitchen, a lounge area up front with a window seat (DIBS! DIBS!), some funky local art on the walls, secure bike storage, and all that a young genius might require in the way of whiteboards, projectors, inspirational company, etc. It’s fully accessible for the handicapped, and the ceiling is lofty enough that you could, without inconveniencing anyone on the ground level, comfortably house a family of tented Bedouin nomads on the ceiling, camels and all, provided they didn’t mind being upside-down.

I guess they’d have to be Australian Bedouins, then. But anyway…

The amenities, etcetera:

cat
Access to the coworking space at all hours from 9am up until I decide it’s time for me to go home (and we all know that normally happens around sunrise) with a desk, wifi, and use of common areas like kitchen, bike parking and lounge: $200 per month. The layout was designed by grad students from Stanford, if memory serves, for maximum Satori-nosity and efficient use of space, which means basically if somebody sneezes no-one ELSE has to shower knowwhatimean?

It’s also available for meetings and special events, which is I believe $300 a day standard rate, or $200 for nonprofits, or if you’ve got a compelling reason for BOB to want your event in their space, pitch them. Or me. Because they are me and I am he and we are all together.

John Lennon i am the lolrus

We’re looking at installing lockers, which would be available for a small extra fee. There are no assigned desks; you move around to where you feel comfortable and there’s room on any particular day. And a coffeemaker is on the way, although buying the coffee is up to the coworkers: shall we collectivise? or shall I just take that over and call up Guido the Collections officer to make sure everyone puts some coins in the tin?

An espresso machine is being discussed, but no guarantees yet.

BUT…here’s the best part. Which is sort of the worst part, but bear with me.

The entire space is going to be taken over for an art project during the Cultural Olympiad. This means that working there will not be possible. So, why should you sign up now if you’ll have to go back to that crappy coffee shop for the entire month of February?

Because if you do sign up, you won’t be charged until March. And if there’s room for you upstairs during February, you can work at a spare desk in the BOB offices, just like a real BOBie. And if you do sign up for a 6-month stint, raincoaster here gets a small donation to the “anger management pharmacopia” and becomes, ever so slightly, more Sandra Bullock and less Joan Crawford.

So come by on Friday and say hi and eat all the free food and drop off your own donation to the Food Bank; cash or noms accepted.

funny pictures of cats with captions

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The Truth about the Great Crustacean War on Humanity

The Great Crustacean War on Humanity: You’d be surprised at how much material has been suppressed. Go ahead, just try and search for anything, give Cthuugle your best shot. You won’t succeed in finding much at all, and that can mean only one thing:

A COVERUP!

First, we have this valuable find: an historical document obviously written from the crustacean perspective.

lobster horror movies

What can it mean?

This, as well, from a book whose deeply sexist title translates as “To Serve Man.”

lobsters cooking up devilry

It’s obvious they’re violent and aggressive.

i can haz world domination?

i can haz werld dominashun?

There is archival footage of at least one series of attacks on human beings:

As if that weren’t enough, Gawker science correspondent Azaria Jagger reports that in the hitherto-thought-mythical Global Warming phenomenon is causing them to mutate, becoming ever larger.

In a warm dystopia many years from now, New York City will be underwater and ginormous mutant crustaceans will roam the globe…

Where will it end? It appears they’ve developed technology to artificially inflate their temperatures and thus accelerate the unnatural and loathesome swelling of their species.

paging gerard de nerval

and even adapted to life on dry land, crawling horribly with twitchings and writhings through the forest canopy, from whence to drop upon unsuspecting passers-by.

Tree Lobsters

Iä, Shub-Niggurath! Hail our crustacean overlords!

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