1688: The Hung Parliament's Glorious Revolution

Since the ejection from the throne and subsequent beheading of Charles I at the end of the English Civil War in 1649, the hegemonic balance between monarchy and Parliament had created a political seesaw entirely unprecedented in the context of British history. On one side were the Whigs, the reform movement in Parliament that emerged as a united party in clear opposition to Charles I's son, the emponymously titled Charles II,¹ following the restoration of the monarchy in 1660.² On the other side was the monarchy itself and its supporters in Parliament, colloquially known as the Tories, who likewise formed an official and united political front in support of King James II's right to inherit the throne in spite of his confessed Catholicism.³ The relatively free exchange and formulation of political ideas in 17^th century England was in stark contrast to the monarchical absolutism being practiced on the European continent by the likes of Louis XIV in France, and Peter the Great in Russia. Politically dissident opinions abounded, and the toleration of such open dissent is not only what made England unique, it's what lended a great amount of momentum to theories of Parliamentary supremacy which ultimately culminated in the slow formation of modern democratic institutions. It can be argued, as well, that this open dissidence and continued friction between Parliament and King, having reached its absolute crescendo with the forced abdication of James II in 1688, is the moment which forever altered historical trajectory toward what ultimately resulted in political modernity and global industrialisation. However, old habits die hard, and history is a lense through which all events fade to give way to others in slow succession. Although a revolution in the long run, the so-called “Glorious Revolution” of 1688-92 was an accidental harbinger of what one might call “progress,” though it found its genuine and immediate purpose largely in religiously sectarian intolernace.

Most have seen a reflection of the ideal revolutionary attitude of 17^th century England in the writings of John Locke, who once famously wrote, “And no Government will be able long to subsist, if the People may set up a new Legislative, whenever they take offence at the old one. To this, I Answer: Quite the contrary. People are not so easily got out of their old Forms, as some are apt to suggest. They are hardly to be prevailed with to amend the acknowledg'd Faults, in the Frame they have been accustom'd to. And if there be any Original defects, or adventitious ones introduced by time or corruption[,] 'tis not an eas[y] thing to get them changed, even when all the World sees there is an opportunity for it.”⁴ In this statement, he may have been prophetic; in part, he may have been referring to the contrast between the atmosphere of absolutism on the Continent and the constitutional monarchy so commonplace in British life. But he was also describing as well as foreshadowing events of the day and what was still to come, having written his two treatises on government originally as justification for resistance to King Charles II (r. 1660-1685),⁵ but which were later published as a defence of the self-aggrandizingly titled “Glorious Revolution” beginning in 1688.⁶

In an intellectual climate heavily influenced by Aristotle, as well as Plato's 'perfect world of forms,' it's understandable how a spectating thinker of the time would sink into a cynical evaluation of facts based on immediate observation. Alternatively, an inversely over-optimistic evaluation was just as common, as the effect of Plato's perfect forms was political utopianism, the expectations of which were often unceremoniously crushed by reactionaries or simple fact. The resulting dissapointment—or, more often, despair—of great and defeated expectations were reconciled by many through the available remedy of religious dogma, or thoroughly faced, philosophized upon, and accepted by a very gilded few. John Locke, as quoted in the second paragraph, had a sense of political realism. He understood that the course of events were beyond any single persons control, and that any explicit 'revolution' was, more often than not, simply occurring to retain a certain circumstance and all the prejudice and pride that go with it. Yet at the same time his realism seemed to project a commentary cognizant and accepting of this central contradiction, he still found himself on the revolutionary side of history, having fostered a very close relationship with noted Whig politician Anthony Ashley Cooper, better known as the Earl of Shaftesbury, as his personal physician during the 1660's.⁷ This is enough to understand why political gravity, coupled with his faculties as a philosopher, brought him to believe in the supremacy of Parliament over a reigning monarch. He became, through his connections, one of the most outspoken voices in support of the Whigs, with his works on government gaining comprehensive popularity throughout the British Isles at the time of the revolution and giving further intellectual momentum to the ascendent counter-narrative of limited government.⁸

This counter-narrative, however, proved to be less revolutionary, and more of a watershed moment in the slow historical fade to modern democracy. The usurpation of the throne from James II to William of Oranje effected by Parliament was done in response to James finally siring a male heir, who was baptised a Catholic. James had also incurred the wrath of Parliament in prior years when he advocated for tolerance of Catholics and Protestant dissenters, granting both the right of public worship as well as the ability to hold civil and military office.⁹ This ecumenical attitude infuriated the Whigs, who, upon taking joint power with the new King, implemented a series of draconian laws which once again barred Catholics and dissenters from public worship, public office (including running to become a Parliamentary MP),¹⁰ and a myriad of other prohibitions designed to humiliate, harass, and oppress the “papists,” a derogatory term used to refer to Catholics during and after the English Reformation. In the English Bill of Rights, for example, it is added as a refrain that “it hath pleased Almighty God to make the glorious instrument of delivering this kingdom from popery [Catholicism] and arbitrary power.” Enshrined as law alongside such famous and fatefully significant precedents as, “[t]hat election of members [to] Parliament ought to be free,” and “[t]hat excessive bail ought not to be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted,” was “that all and every person and persons that is, are or shall be reconciled to ... [the] Church of Rome, or shall profess the popish religion, or shall marry a papist, shall be excluded and be for ever incapable to inherit, possess or enjoy the crown and government of this realm”.¹¹ The Bill of Rights also enshrined, rather ironically, the tenets of John Locke's constitutional theory of government, severely limiting regal authority and adding a rudimentary form of checks and balances to the British political system. The reigning monarch was no longer above the law, but was also now a subject of its universal authority and application.¹² Parliament acted as kingmaker, and defined the parameters of the debate.

In 1689, the same year as the passing of the Bill of Rights, Locke penned “A Letter Concerning Toleration.” Addressing it to an anonymously “Honored Sir,”¹³ he makes an argument that asserts the separation of church and state. He also writes that tolerance for differing religious dispositions will bring greater peace, as most civil unrest roots from an inevitable resistance to persecution and repression.¹⁴ The fear of the time, however, was of a Catholic takeover of England. The collective spiritual paranoia born of the Reformation was of such a power as to compel King William to officially and comprehensively disenfranchise Catholics, lest he meet the same fate as his deposed and universally reviled predecessor. This was not a cultural or political atmosphere conducive to Locke's sensible and compassionate message. This message took a very familiar perspective, one in which modern attitudes on the matter are clearly still reflected.

Modern capitalism also finds one of its original European catalysts in the Glorious Revolution. During the decades of political gridlock, when the King would, at times, neglect to convene Parliament for upwards of 3 to 4 years after he failed to make a convincing argument to secure further funding,¹⁵ there was no governmental oversight or control of economics on a state-wide basis. Communities were left to fend for themselves, and unless an entrepreuner could secure a royal patent or privilege, there was no legal protection that allowed for the safe raising of capital and subsequent investment in local projects and infrastructure. The alternative to royal patent was to seek parliamentary legislation from a local representative MP.¹⁶ This was complicated to near-impossibility during the years of 1680 to 1688, when Parliament sat for a grand total of no more than 20 weeks. In contrast, the years from 1689 to 1697 saw Parliament in session for an entire 53-and-a-half months. With its powers now enshrined on an equal basis with the monarch, and the limitation of the King's executive authority to the rule of law, there was no longer a single individual with the power to interfere in the judicial branch, bypass Parliament, or unilaterally breach and alter contracts of private property and the protection of rights thereof.¹⁷ When it became clear that Parliamentary government truly did secure property rights and provided the legal guarantee of all financial and economic contracts being honoured in good faith, a very familiar market began to emerge and expand. In his essay on how the events of 1688-92 inevitably precipitated the Industrial Revolution of the 19^th century, John Beckett writes: “[t]he commercial and financial revolutions brought new problems in the organisation of overseas trade and the mechanisms of public credit, and arising from these concerns came a succession of bills to establish merchant companies, restrict the import of foreign luxuries, regulate the market in stocks, and improve the law in relation to the collection of debt, the declaration of bankruptcy and the pursuit of small claims. Parliament was now a forum in which MPs could debate issues of substance, often with a bearing on their constituencies, in the context of legislation. It is hardly surprising to find a rapid increase in legislative initiatives post-1689.”¹⁸ Both local and international markets, given these protections, expanded exponentially. This growth never ceased, and instead continued to gather momentum through the centuries, giving us modern industry, credit, transportation, infrastructure, and technology, to name only a few. In fact, we are part and product of this very momentum, bearing the fruits of its process and effects.

Rome wasn't built in a day; nor was considered modernity achieved in any single technological innovation, philosophical consideration, spiritual revelation, or political revolution. History is the sum of its parts. Anything less, and it isn't the whole story. The Glorious Revolution definitively ended any push for absolutism in England. It also kickstarted global parlimentarianism, which subsequently led to the birth of modern democracy and political institutions. It set the precedent of the Bill of Rights, which, along with the works of John Locke, inspired the American Declaration of Independence.¹⁹ But Locke wasn't incorrect in his assertion that old habits are hard to kill, even when we all see an opportunity for progress. As historian Kenan Malik notes, “[t]he Whigs, the party of parliamentary democracy, the party from which the English liberal tradition developed, were also the party of anti-Catholic bigotry.”²⁰ The doubled-edged sword of hypocrisy and power continues to beg the question: what are we actually thinking of when we consider “progress?”

1 2015. "Whig." Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia 1p. 1. Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia, EBSCOhost .

2 2015. "Restoration." Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia 1p. 1. Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia, EBSCOhost.

3 Oxford Dictionaries. 2015. 'Definition Of "Tory" In English From The Oxford Dictionary'.

4 Locke, John. 1689. 'Right Of Revolution: John Locke, Second Treatise'. Press-Pubs.Uchicago.Edu. http://press-pubs.uchicago.edu/founders/documents/v1ch3s2.html.

5 2015. "Charles II." Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia 1p. 1. Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia, EBSCOhost.

6 Sparknotes. 2015. 'Sparknotes: Locke's Second Treatise On Civil Government: Context'. http://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/locke/context.html.

7 Anstey, Peter R., and Lawrence M. Principe. "John Locke and the Case of Anthony Ashley Cooper." Early Science & Medicine 16, no. 5 (October 2011): 379-503. Academic Search Complete, EBSCOhost.

8 Malik, Kenan. 2013. 'John Locke And The Not-Quite-Glorious Revolution'. Pandaemonium.

9 Kidner, Frank L, Maria Bucur, Ralph Mathisen, Sally McKee, and Theodore R Weeks. 2014. Making Europe. 

(Independence, KY: Wadsworth Cengage Learning), 486.

10 The Avalon Project. 2008. 'English Bill Of Rights, 1689'.

11 The Avalon Project. 2008. 'English Bill Of Rights, 1689'.

12 Lewis, Thomas T. 2015. "English Bill of Rights." Salem Press Encyclopedia Research Starters.

13 Locke, John. 1689. A Letter Concerning Toleration. Ebook. 1st ed., 3.

14 Locke, John. 1689. A Letter Concerning Toleration. Ebook. 1st ed., 6-14.

15 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." 

Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, EBSCOhost, 37.

16 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, 38.

17 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, 39.

18 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, 39.

19 Powell, Jim et al. 2015. 'John Locke: Natural Rights To Life, Liberty, And Property | Foundation For Economic Education'. Fee.Org.

20 Malik, Kenan. 2013. 'John Locke And The Not-Quite-Glorious Revolution'. Pandaemonium.    

Quebec, 1995 and Scotland, 2014: A Crisis of Clarity in the Old World and the New

It was 1707 when the United Kingdom coalesced as one with the Act of Union. This followed the death of the childless and unmarried Queen Elizabeth I, who, via the law of hereditary succession, was replaced on the throne by her cousin James VI, King of Scotland, now James I of a united Great Britain (UK Parliament). A mere half-century later, a more forced union took place in British North America with the annexation of France's Canadian colonies by way of King George III's Royal Proclamation of 1763 (UBC Indigenous Foundations). Both territorial amalgamations led to perpetual demographic tensions that often simmered in the backdrop of everyday political life; in the British Isles themselves, the English had to compromise with the Scots on issues of local and global concern, whereas in the former New France, Britain attempted to overwhelm the French majority with a constant influx of English Loyalist settlers, as well as refugees escaping the American War of Independence (Mintz et al., 27-28). Since these 18^th century annexations, both Scotland and the former New France, now the province of Quebec in a federalist union with Canada, have pondered, petitioned, and protested regarding and for political independence, with supporters of secession feeling pushed to the margins in terms of accurate political representation. Supporters of both secessionist movements express a strong Scottish and Quebec nationalism, respectively, with Scotland having held two successful referendums on political devolution to a separate Scottish Parliament, and one referendum in 2014 on independence which failed on a relatively narrow margin of 44.7% for secession, and 55.3% against, with a 84.59% voter turnout (BBC). Even closer were the results of Quebec's second referendum on independence in 1995, which saw 49.4% for secession from Canada, and 50.6% against, with a 94% voter turnout (Mintz et al., 106). This essay will compare and contrast the Quebec referendum of 1995 with the Scottish referendum of 2014, and establish that both are indeed inextricably connected, as well as explore the most important of said connections, the so-called “clarity ethos” which, originating in Canada, ruled, and still rules, both regions quests for sovereignty.

The first and most important distinction between the 1995 Quebec referendum and the 2014 Scottish referendum is the stark contrast in the clarity and succinctness of the questions presented to voters. The “clarity ethos,” as it's called, roots from Canadian politician Stephane Dion's heavy criticism of the question posed in 1995. On the ballot, Quebecer's were asked: "Do you agree that Québec should become sovereign, after having made a formal offer to Canada for a new economic and political partnership, within the scope of the Bill respecting the future of Québec and of the agreement signed on 12 June 1995?” (Gall). This, in contrast to the straightforwardness of what was asked of voters in Scotland: “Should Scotland be an independent country?” (Verrelli et al., 197). In pursuit of procedural clarity, the Canadian federal government of Jean Chretien posed a series of reference questions to the Supreme Court of Canada to establish three things: if Quebec could secede from Canada on a unilateral basis; if Quebec had a right to automatic self-determination under international law; and, if there was some sort of conflict between domestic and international law in regards to secession, which set of laws would take precedence (Supreme Court of Canada). In a 2013 session of the House of Commons, Dion asserted that many Quebecer's voted 'yes' without a clear grasp of what a 'yes' victory would entail, arguing this was due to the obscure nature of the question (Verrelli et al., 196). In 1998, the Supreme Court rendered its judgment, and came down on the side of Dion and the federal government. Essentially, the Court established that Quebec could not unilaterally effect its own secession from Canada, but were a referendum held and a 'clear majority' of Quebecer's supported independence, then the federal government would be legally obligated to negotiate with the Quebec government in good faith (Supreme Court of Canada).

Both the federal government and provincial government of Quebec stated that they were satisfied with the ruling. The ruling did not, however, provide a definition of a 'clear majority,' opting to leave such a definition in the hands of politicians. In “Exporting the Clarity Ethos,” authors Nadia Verrelli and Neil Cruickshank note, “even if the democratic threshold (i.e. a majority) of fifty per cent plus one is met [...] in favour of Quebec sovereignty, it may not be enough to initiate the secession

process” (Verrelli et al., 197). This infers that some sort of supermajority would have to vote 'yes' to independence on a ballot that posed a very simple question. This inference became law when the Canadian House of Commons voted to pass the Clarity Act after final reading in 2000, which used the Supreme Court reference case as its basic template (Clarity Act, 3). As expected, Quebec railed against the Act, passing a law of its own the same year to counter the federal legislation known as Bill 99, or “An Act respecting the exercise of the fundamental rights and prerogatives of the Québec people and the Québec State” (Bill 99, 1). Bill 99 also claimed to use the Supreme Court reference as its basic template, taking advantage of the undefined character of what constitutes a 'clear majority' despite the Clarity Act's stipulation that it was the federal government alone that had the ability and right to decide what constituted both a clear question and a clear majority (Clarity Act, 4).

The clarity ethos became a precedent to be followed in future referenda, not only in Canada, but also in the case of Scotland's 2014 vote. It is no coincidence that Alex Salmond, head of the SNP (Scottish National Party), as well as Prime Minister David Cameron of the United Kingdom, both pushed for a clearly worded question which was also “comprehensible [...] in terms of the political consequences one should associate with a ‘yes’ vote” (Verrelli et al., 196). Even in Scotland, however, a bare majority for 'yes' may not have been enough to push Scotland across the divide of ambiguous clarity far enough to define a mandate for independence, and would likely have been heavily contested by both the British people and the British government were there not some sort of supermajority, just as in Quebec. It must be noted that the push for clarity is not simply a push for a clear question; it also requires a resoundingly clear answer to the question. This is a prejudice that Nadia Verrelli and Neil Cruickshank argue is “not only [...] impossible to achieve, but unfairly puts the ‘burden of proof’ on the side asserting national self-determination” (Verrelli et al., 196-197). The push for clarity is a sensible one, though probably impossible. This means, unfortunately, that the clarity ethos can essentially thwart all movements for independence by referendum, but this doesn't mean a referendum is an empty or useless gesture as it does reveal the true magnitude of those with a passionate desire for greater representation, thus forcing the powers that be to negotiate and often leading to notable concessions. In Canada, concession and compromise with Quebec is a staple of political life. In 2006, former Prime Minister Stephen Harper rejected the idea of an independent Quebec, but introduced a motion that officially recognized Quebec as a distinct nation within the nation of Canada (CBC News). As is obvious, similar pressures are what led to the devolution of some powers to an independent Scottish Parliament, effectively making Scotland a de-facto province of the United Kingdom.

The question of each referendum's legitimacy—both in terms of the results, and in terms of the right of Scotland or Quebec to self-determination under both domestic and international law—is resoundingly complex, hence the centuries of debate. Relative to the ruling of the Supreme Court of Canada, it can be argued that both the 1980 and 1995 Quebec referendums were illegitimate due to the hazy and verbose wording of the questions posed on the ballots. Due to this verbosity, it's unlikely that the federal government would have accepted either result, even if the proportion of 'yes' voters reached the undefined realm of a supermajority. As well, both referenda questions did not make it clear if what was being voted on was full secession, or a re-negotiation of Quebec within Confederation from provincial status to sovereignty-association. With this being the case, it's more likely than not that neither referenda would have resulted in independence, regardless of the results.

Scotland, having learned Quebec's lessons vicariously, stood a much better chance at secession and political independence, as the wording of the question was both simple and concise. Had there even been a narrow win, the mandate would have been clear, even if it didn't result in full sovereignty. If, however, there had been a clear supermajority—the clarity of which would likely have been defined by Westminster—there was a real chance for unequivocal results and, thus, legitimate secession on a multilateral basis. In all regards, the clarity ethos defines the parameters of the debate, paradoxically leaving no room for ambiguity by imposing a gilded monopoly on the ambiguous definition of clarity.

As it stands, both independence movements are alive and well, and both, though winded, are still pursuing their relentless crusades to nationhood. In more recent months, however, there has even been a greater push for secession and full political independence in places such as Catalonia, which has been struggling for partition from the greater Spanish nation in recent decades (BBC). Perhaps it can be expected that the clarity ethos will blanket the debate in Spain. If this happens to be the case, let's hope that the political definition of clarity can be given some basic clarity.      

PLEASE NOTE: THIS WORK WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN AS A RESEARCH ESSAY FOR MY CLASS ON CANADIAN GOVERNMENT. 

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE CITATIONS, PLEASE POST A COMMENT BELOW PROVIDING AN EMAIL ADDRESS AND I WOULD BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO SEND AN ELECTRONIC COPY FOR FACT-CHECKING.

elxn42: the final day before the final judgement.

So, it's come down to this, with under 48 hours left for us Canadians to cast our ballots in the federal election. 

It may be a bit of a surprise to see me coming in with a general evaluation of the campaign landscape so late into the game, but I've been preoccupied with a busy school life, work, and nervously biting my nails to sharp, awkward nubs trying to gauge the final trajectory of this election. 

The polls suggest, by quite a wide margin, that Canada's tried and true—tho not uncontroversial—Liberal Party is on its way to a victory of some sort. Whether this will fly so far as to become a majority mandate (requiring 170 of the 338 seats in the House of Commons), or turn to be a more expected outcome of minority governance, these are both potential outcomes that bode acceptable results for all those with the wider priority of ousting Harper. For those still caught within the bitter partisan divide between the Liberals and the NDP, however, a Liberal victory may garner a hostile reaction from those who hoped the more experienced Thomas Mulcair would take Canada's helm and deliver us from 10 years of what can be called, at best, clumsy mismanagement, and, and worst, outright evil in the form of power-for-powers-sake.

Personally, I found none of this years big political contenders to be either particularly fascinating, nor impressive. Harper, tho very well known to resort to dirty tricks as a way of leveraging himself and his party, took this a few surprising steps further when he battened down the hatches and dug in to a campaign dedicated entirely to fear and what Canadian's would hypothetically lose were they to lose him. He also allowed himself to slip even further from basic ethical standards when he began railing against the niqab, as well as preaching a false gospel of "weed is infinitely worse than tobacco" at the same rallies at which he campaigned with Rob Ford, the former Toronto mayor who smoked crack cocaine while still in public office just last year. In this sense, and due to an illustrious list of dark faux pas that date back to the very start of his political career, Harper was immediately crossed-off as an option in my mind as I've been a long-time supporter of the "Anyone But Harper" movement, and do sincerely believe he has destroyed the image of Canada as a constant and progressive contrast in the world. The strangest thing about his having done this, however, is that this image isn't something I thought I cared about until it finally became clear that he had irreparably taken it away, so I suppose that, by some basic relative standard, I am a bit of a nationalist. (A loose nationalist). 

Justin Trudeau, son of the late former Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau—praised for such things as the patriation of the Canadian constitution from the United Kingdom in 1982 and the creation of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, tho heavily criticized for his disastrous National Energy Policy and disproportionate nation-wide declaration of martial law in response to the FLQ crisis in Quebec—started this campaign on a very precarious footing. My largest point of contention with him had been his backing of the controversial anti-terrorism legislation, Bill C-51. For the first month (and prior), he was unable to articulate a clear reason for said support, and vaguely blundered on and on about "Real Change Now!" and "Helping the Middle Class" without elaborating on any clear policy position or platform promises until about a month ago, when he and his party not only began to make properly specific promises, but also gave articulate and reasonable justification to their backing of C-51 and how they intend to make significant amendments (such as adding sunset clauses and clarifying all the vague ambiguities left unclarified by the Harper government via Parliamentary committee and review). At this point, I began to see him less as a potentially necessary half-evil in the drive to remove Harper, and more as a viable option for Prime Minister, though not to a point I felt comfortable casting a ballot in his name (though I would have done so in a heartbeat had it been the strategic option in my riding).  

Thomas Mulcair, however, did—through this process of elimination—earn my vote, but it does have to be said that he wasn't one to particularly impress either. 

Throughout his campaign, Mulcair consistently liked to remind everyone that his priority was "to get rid of Harper," all while buying up ad-time online and on television that often baselessly tore into Justin Trudeau on a personal level as opposed to policy position, and sent a shiver of disgust down my spine as I dealt with the vicarious embarrassment of attack politics; something I strongly believe should be left entirely to the foaming mouths of desperate neoconservatives, as it's only their hawkish, confrontational ideologies that align naturally with such shallow, proto-fascist rhetoric.

Now, with less than 2 days to go, my biggest concern roots from the entirely unexpected Conservative victory in the United Kingdom last May, when, against all forecasts and odds, David Cameron won re-election with the help of a "master of the political dark arts," the infamous Australian political consultant, Lynton Crosby.

Crosby has won multiple elections for the right with the unethically strategic use of "wedge politics," which is to say issues of little to no importance that can be used to viciously divide an electorate and attempt to subdue it to a right-wing agenda with the use of fear. Far from being a legitimate option in a Parliamentary democracy, it is essentially a form of soft totalitarianism in the form of 'divide and conquer.' Though the good news it that there are reports Crosby abandoned the Harper campaign trail just 4 days before the election due to his disapproval of Harper's mingling with the controversial crack-smoking former mayor of Toronto and his pundit brother, Doug Ford, which means that Harper's desperation far surpassed what he believed Crosby could accomplish on his behalf. 

However, my nerve about the election doesn't simply end with the absence of Crosby on the Conservative campaign trail, as his basic strategies still apply, even in this atmosphere of flailing desperation. Not only this, but there have been serious allegations of electoral fraud and cheating leveled against the Conservatives in regard to every election they have run under Harper's leadership, with one lead eventually culminating in an arrest and conviction in relation to the 'robocall' scandal of 2011. The voter turnout for this current election has far surpassed that of the past two, but there is still very much a part of me which is still concerned the Conservatives may be cheating, as it has already been shown they don't feel the necessity to respect the basic foundations of democracy. However: the good news here is that Canadians are already cautious and wary of potential cheating, as is the independent body that oversees elections, Elections Canada. They have made a point of warning voters to the signs of a fake polling station or attempts at voter suppression. So, perhaps, in the end, I don't foresee a Conservative victory in the making, but I am wary to cast a final judgement until the conclusive results have come in. 

Remember to double-check your riding and to vote strategically, everyone.            

Humble Murder

You come out of the dark, and a young Japanese schoolgirl--couldn't be any older than 19--is standing in a heavy-lit archway, the blinkered 'sort-of's' of her eyes only visible in corners due to the convex glare rebounding from the heavy light and onto a parked Miyata windshield, right back into the bloodshot lower-left cleft of each eye, sleepless veins like miniature pipelines slogging her fossil fuel blood to the energy markets of her face (but it ends in death, hopeless economy! it begins in death like OPEC!)

There's concrete, and there's stone: the former a collection of synthetically compiled chunks of the latter. In either regard, it might just be the end of the World, tho just an intermission during an afternoon matinee for the world. There are a lot of things you don't understand. There is plenty more you do, and yet you believe your own humility when it whispers, "You don't," tho you are entirely unaware this is delusion and not humility, but some unconscious form of ascetic worship of WONDER!! You're going coocoo for cocopuffs WONDER! We can remember what J.B.S. Haldane once said: "I have no doubt that in reality the future will be vastly more surprising than anything I can imagine. Now my own suspicion is that the Universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose."

I was born at the edge of the Cold War. 4 years after America's Operation Just Cause deposed Nicaraguan dictator Manuel Noriega using heavy metal music and heavy metal weapons, loaded to capacity with heavy metal bullets. 4 years after the slow-dissolve tablet of the Berlin Wall finally faded upon the German palate. Brian Mulroney was my Prime Minister at birth. I was also alive (tho not 'conscious,' per se--intellectually conscious, that is) during the Prime Ministership of Canada's first female Prime Minister: Kim Campbell (she was only leader for just over 3 months and thus I cannot give her time in office the full credibility it would have deserved had she been a fully elected candidate instead of an inter-election Prime Ministerial appointment; when, for godssakes, will we have a First Nations' Prime Minister? I would like to believe the only reason there has been none is because the indigenous people have categorically rejected the game-fantasy we have stomped upon their land and the world and self-righteously crowned as 'realistic, sober, objective;' tho maybe I'm wrong, whispers Humility: "I don't know").

There is the endless and omnipotent consensus that the world's about to end. For those who study history, they will often notice that when 'then' was 'now,' it was often and always the end of history. 'Now' is the always-result of 'then' and it will never change unless we neglect its consideration. That's really all theory takes to disappear: stop thinking about it. (as if that were possible, ha!)
Because the impression has been one of pollution and confusion, our wide un-thought idealization as children has often led us to emulate all the bad habits we witness growing up, even if at one point we cloudlessly rejected them because the damage didn't seem clear, it was clear.

I was 8 years old when I took my mother's cigarettes from her bedroom while she slept, and proudly announced to her the next morning that I had thrown them out. She had become furious, tho I had done it out of a militant concern for her well-being. During my years of primeval arrival on this planet, mom had almost lost her life to breast cancer. I can't remember understanding much as it happened, nor do I recall fully understanding the implications of death until my grandmother died and I watched my dad fight back tears as he read aloud her eulogy, recalling a story I can pick through scattered memories stored in grey matter to resurrect only one fact about it: they were on a boat, pulling up to shore. My grandfather--the cheeky Briton-optimist he is--made some silly joke, and my grandmother pitched in. The rest is somewhere else in space.

However--regarding death-- I feel that even then we never understand the full implications of death in witnessing another's death, but only through dying ourselves. Which is fine. None of us need to understand these implications until the time comes (and even then, it may just drip away once you've reached the Light. Which is fine).

Returning to the cigarettes: I had absorbed the common knowledge they were awful for you. 'Death-sticks' indeed, just like that scene in Attack of the Clones. Tho I understood nothing of the chemistry, a box or a video or an authority explaining their potential 'results' or 'consequences' was enough for me to righteously desire to save my mother from her own acquired vice.

14 years later, I skulk through the streets of Victoria with Chris, high on cocaine and chain-smoking Export-A Gold on the subconscious condition that the world will probably end soon enough for none of this to matter. Tho as I said: For those who study history, they will often notice that when 'then' was 'now,' it was often and always the end of history.

History is comprised of an endless succession of losers who sincerely believe they've figured it out. The only redeemable characters in this Human Odyssey are those who have realized nothing in particular. The people who think, believe, and conceptualize as an infinite process; something without a result. Something with abstract 'goals' that only fit for awhile, not forever.

I'm nobody special. Tho, at the same time, I am; and at the same time and in terms of my relationship to this greater Human Odyssey, whether I will matter in this giant plot is in part up to me (should I write a book? 10 books? Relentlessly pursue the arts, whether that be rapping, writing, music?) and in part up to sheer probability (if I do write a book, will many notice? Or will it be swept under the Great Rug of the Present-Into-Past and be forgotten to thought?), and regardless of all this: the rocks will forget. The trees will forget. Both space and dark matter will have already forgotten what I am doing and what I may one day do.

But life can't be approached on a basis of personal impact; honestly, who wants to pursue the writing of 10 books or the creation of albums in the same way the capitalist approaches economy, for sheer attention and accumulation? Those desperado's, those who chase-the-game-of-success, they have already lost. They lost as soon as they tried to win. There is nothing to win, no award great enough to keep, no person you love or have loved who you will not one day depart with for the very last time. But to depart with a personality may be tragic, it is only a true void in concept; when one removes the individual (both themselves and the one they love) from the eternal context of the universe--the ebb and flow of tides to the movement of the moon, the soft breeze supplemented by a fan placed next to an open window, how your hand--when clapped to the surface of a wooden table--is one with the matter in that table regardless of how transiently you perceive such a touch as an interaction. In essence, it's all still here; it always was, and never won't be.

tho maybe I'm wrong, whispers Humility.

"I don't know."

Canada: A Dangerous Moral Precedent (Essay)

 Both of John Nuttall's hands shivered with adrenaline, sweat beading from his palm lines like two dammed rivers barricaded within his clenched fists. In manic, “hokey and harebrained” detail, Nuttall propounded ideas ranging from the hijacking of a nuclear submarine to launching rockets at a Vancouver Island military base (Omand). Searching his name on Google Images—algorithmically organized to create somewhat of an impromptu photo album complete with a haunted nostalgia for what's dead in another's life—paints a horribly incomplete retrospective of a friendly, yet tragic, naivety. In most of the photos, his hair is short and casual. In any average setting, he wouldn't notably stand out from a crowd. In others, taken covertly during the RCMP sting operation (Omand), his hair is gruff and Mohammedan, even Christ-like. In the backdrop is a woman—garbed in a black hijab—gazing outward with the same glazed expression of deadpan naivety etched across her face. Amanda Korody is the second half to this husband and wife duo, both of whom—egged on by a ring of undercover police officers posing as big-whig international terrorists—conspired to detonate pressure cookers stuffed with C4 explosives in front of the B.C. Legislature buildings in Victoria, BC, on July 1^st, 2013 (Omand). Both Nuttall and Korody were recent converts to Islam, sporting a childishly binary worldview in which they believed they were involved in a holy war with the West. Their plan ultimately failed, as it was actually a plan concocted almost entirely by the undercover officers involved. Though both husband and wife existed in delusional idealism and newly adopted dogma, it will now never be known if their violent aspirations were truly preexisting, or simply the result of the entirely intentional encouragement they received from the state. In either regard, the case as to who's the real terrorist in this situation presents itself as an easy origin point for the thesis of this essay. In recent years, Canada has become a greater source of national and international terrorism due to numerous diverging factors, not least of which has been the spectacle of regressive Conservative politics on the international and domestic stages fueling so-called 'eco-extremism,' as well as Islamaphobia and the misled persecution of predominently non-Anglo cultures in a country built as a settler state.

In early 2014, a surprisingly adept and well-equipped group of Wahhabi militants in Iraq and Syria—the local branch of the al Qaeda brand—split with their forefathers and founded the so-called “Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant,” conceding to the world that they, and they alone, were the rightful heirs to a model of Islamic imperialism based on the Rashidun Caliphate (Mandhai) of the 7^th century (Editors of Encyclopædia Britannica). Thus was born a modernised medievalism relying on globalised economics as well as global communications to both fund itself, and create a public relations (or, propaganda) umbrella under which it wields the unprecedented ability to attract the disenfranchised as recruits from all corners of the globe. One such corner has unfortunately been western Canada in the form of both British Columbia and Alberta, a potent example of which is Collin Gordon, a former student of Thompson Rivers University in Kamloops, BC, who—alongside his brother, Greg Gordon, both originally from Calgary—fled to join ISIS in the summer of 2014. Both recent converts to Islam as Nuttall and Korody had been, they were brought into the ISIS enfold via a recruitment ring active in the Calgarian Muslim community at the time (CBC News). Both Nuttall, Korody, and these brothers exmplify how reactions to the proselytizing project of Western modernity are not an overseas process long distilled and removed from Canadian society, but something which hops back and forth regardless of physical distance, allowing a proverbial form of geopolitical and historical 'karma' to project its inevitable effect directly back on to us at home and abroad. The challenge for the communities affected by these unforeseen departures will be to discourage and—if necessarry—physically block other individuals from following their example. The unfortunate reality is that there is not enough of a moral grounding to Canadian society lending itself to a halfway-decent example of anything that could be considered a cultural or political antithesis to extremist ideology. In fact, the genuinely well-intentioned colonial manifestation of Christian religious extremism—the residential schooling system—only came to a final end in 1996 (Fisher). As written by Alan Fisher in a June 3^rd blog-post for Al Jazeera: “[a]cross Canada, for more than 100 years, children of the indigenous population [...] were taken away as part of the policy of “aggressive assimilation”, or as one survivor put it, "They tried to beat the Indian out of us.””(Fisher). During as well as because of this process of “aggressive assimilation” (Fisher), it has been found that at least 4,000 abducted native children died from such causes as neglect, severe beatings, and malnutrition; but this is only a conservative estimate—one that will continue to grow as research deepens (Kennedy).

As a founded settler-state explicitly established on the repression, conversion, and attempted eradication of native North American's and their cultures, Canada—along with most of the colonial “New World”—has made strides in terms of democracy and general equality, though within the ideologically violent framework of predominant preference for Anglicized culture and appearances. Even in 2012, during the introduction of a new series of banknotes, a focus group charged with evaluating the graphical content of the bills reportedly found that a woman shown to be looking through a large microscope on the new $100 note appeared too 'ethnically Asian.' As such: “[t]he [Bank of Canada] immediately ordered the image redrawn, imposing what a spokesman called a "neutral ethnicity" for the woman scientist who, now stripped of her "Asian" features [...] appear[s] to be Caucasian” (CBC News). Though attempting to veil such blatant partiality as objectively neutral, the racially Anglicized tilt of this decision is obvious. In reality, an acceptance of “Canada” as the petri dish of the world should come as the natural instinct of justice in those not deceived by the fiction of national identity, as both the racial and cultural precedents for this entire continent were established long before the arrival of European colonists or the colonial establishment of democracies not at all unlike that of ancient Greece: with suffrage extended only to men— and, in the case of both the American Revolution as well as the democratization of Canada, only white men of European origin (University of Texas at Austin). Though the scope of democracy both north and south of the border increased dramatically during the 20^th century, unwarranted wars of terror (claiming to fight terror), deliberate ignorance of environmental responsibilities, and painfully blunt movements towards totalitarian democracy—often justified by the phantasmagorical threat of a specifically 'jihadist' terrorist attack—has left Canada (as well as the United States) with little in the way of moral validity. Contrary to the popular idiom, you cannot fight fire with fire without the blaze growing exponentially larger and slipping out of control. The delusions of Western universalisms may have begun the fire, but a plethora of delusional reactionaries—such as militant Islamism—believed they could fight this fire with their own flame. Unfortunately, the West's claims to wisdom, tolerance, and intelligence didn't stop it from responding with further fire—physically, via the careless invasions of both Iraq and Afghanistan, during the latter of which at least 174,000 civilians died as a direct consequence of the war according to statistics compiled as of April 2014 (Costs of War); and legally, via dystopian legislation such as the U.S. Patriot Act and Canada's newly implemented Bill C-51.

Canada's international regression on the world stage under the Harper Government—such as our unilateral withdrawal from the Kyoto Accord and the enforced removal of Islamic hijabs in courts of law—has worked to polarize activists concerned with social and environmental issues to such an extent as to make them vulnerable to radicalization; it has also worked to marginalize already mentioned minority groups such as Canadian Muslims, paving the way for self-justified extremism. Bill C-51—introduced following the inspired lone wolf attacks in Ottawa and Quebec (Reuters)—came as hazy, verbose legislation aimed at widening the state's room for interpretation. This came as the culmination of years of prior negligence and polarization under which the dialogue of democracy turned into a desperate attempt by activists to shout C-51's existence from the rooftops. Undoubtedly, it has contributed to a deepening of tensions usually resulting in said marginalizing circumstances and thus tremendously increases the potential for radicalization across the board. Bill C-51 (and all similar legislation) effectively adds oil to a hot bed of coal: it's boiling, dirty, and now it's on fire. It seems obvious that Parliament Hill treats terrorism and its omnipotent phantom as a cultivatable tool for political leverage, using C-51 to mow the lawn and keep the semi-manufactured crisis 'presentable,' avoiding a removal from the roots as this would make the declining acceptance of the settler-state further open to offensive approach.

In the end, the immediate threat of ruthless expansion and genocide by groups such as ISIS is nothing the world can reasonably close one eye to without risking the loss of both. It isn't strange that we should desire to avoid and combat such an unprecedented global phenomenon that grows with every passing day, leaving its fingerprints—both physical and electronic—across the breadth of the globe. The danger comes in the form of the precedent we have set in our conceited perception of righteous superiority, toying with the world in a way not at all unlike the 'terrorists' we so quickly denigrate as almost less-than-human in their barbarous sadism. Canada is built on the destruction of indigenous populations; it is founded on a moral base capable of such horrors as physical and cultural genocide. It's a country founded on a land very openly stolen from others, victim of an expansionism so irrationally absurd that its claimed national landmass is greater than the entirety of the European continent. If we're to lend ourselves any sense of moral validity—not only on the world stage, but also historically—we must set a new precedent. There must be a full capitulation to the demographic and historical realities of Canada by the political settler-structure, one which will allow every culture with a stock in Canadian society the freedom to grow and evolve on an equally recognized basis. Doing so will prevent the development of marginalization and will thus dramatically reduce radicalization and its attractiveness thereof. In setting this new precedent, we leave nothing to retaliate against, pulling the rug out from under the extremists' feet as any validation in their rhetoric against Canada dims until it disappears entirely. Both of John Nuttall's hands shivered with adrenaline. “Whose plan is this?” an undercover officer—posing as an international terrorist—asks in regard to the proposal to place pressure cookers stuffed with C4 in front of the B.C. Legislature buildings in Victoria. “It's kind of all of our plan," Nuttall replies, referring to the other undercover officers involved in the sting (Omand). The same undercover officer later writes off Nuttall's plan as “hokey and harebrained” (Omand), seemingly unaware of the perversely extreme nature of his own operation.

You can't fight fire with fire unless you're ready to burn yourself in the process. 

Understanding the Civil War in Syria: Yes, it's complicated.

 Following the death of the Prophet Muhammad in AD 632, the issue of who was going to succeed him—not as a prophet, but as a 'Caliph,' or leader of the Muslim Ummah—grew from a simple disagreement into a full-on schism. Soon enough, both sides had blood on their hands, and neither could realistically claim a lesser responsibility for the crisis, though both often tried. Despite a passionate assertion that God's final Prophet had given humankind its 'Final Revelation,' the fractalizing movement of history pressed onward to prove that ultimately nothing had changed.

That there could be such a radical schism in Islam at such an early stage in its development seems to spell out how 'average' it is in relation to other religions, and how fractured of an organization it was destined to become from the outset.

All previous historical examples aside, we can see the bitter Sunni-Shiite divide play itself out in the arena of puritanical universalisms simply by observing the sectarian nature of the regional (now international) effort to fight ISIS and bring the nightmare of the Syrian Civil War to an end. In fact, you can almost (emphasis on 'almost' as it's not as cut and dry as some may imagine it to be) even schematize who's on which side by dividing them into their own religiously sectarian camps.

For example: President Bashar al-Assad, the calculated dictator who still attempts to thrive on a Soviet-style cult of personality just as his father Hafez did, hails from the Alawite sect, an obscure branch of Shia Islam. Essentially, they agree with mainstream Shia Islam in believing that Muhammad's son-in-law, Ali ibn Abi Talib (Ali for short) was the first Imam (excluding the Prophet himself), and the rightful heir to the leadership of the Ummah (Muslim community). Shiism's dramatic split with Sunni Islam boils down to the problem of succession, where Shiism and its offshoots believe that Ali and his descendants, as the closest blood relatives to the Prophet, should be leading Islam on this hereditary basis. Sunni Islam, on the other hand, believes (by and large) that the leader(s) of Islam should be chosen by consensus. When Muhammad died, Sunni's took his father-in-law Abu Bakr (or Abdullah ibn Abi Qhuhafah, though no native English speaker has an easy time trying to pronounce his full name) to be the first Caliph as he was preferred by said 'consensus.' They did not believe that the Prophet intended for his succession to be based on the spiritually esoteric prerequisite of blood relations.

Over the course of the next 1,380 years, many smaller schisms have occurred within the two main traditions, creating a fractalizing landscape of conflicting religious doctrine and myth that often leads to more tension than attempts at religious pluralism. Bashar al-Assad's native Alawite sect, as one of many offshoots to mainstream Shiism, has a long history of keeping its beliefs a very closely guarded secret, thus leading to many accusations of occult practice (usually on partisan grounds) and the formulation of elaborate conspiracy theories by those not involved in this Freemason-esque organization. It doesn't help that the Alawites make up only 12% of the entire Syrian population, and are thus perceived as a gilded minority ruling over a fractured and oppressed majority. Since the year 2000, however, advances have been made in deciphering some of the beliefs central to the Alawis, such as the core of the religion being based around a divine triad which comprises of three aspects of one God that cyclically emanate in human form throughout the course of history. The last eminent expressions of this divine triad, in Alawite belief, were Ali, Muhammad, and Salman the Persian (one of the Prophets most loyal companions and the first Persian to convert to the new religion). For these beliefs—which are obtuse relative to the overall standard of Islam—Alawites have been persecuted. Under Ottoman rule, Alawites were brutally oppressed if they did not capitulate and convert to become Sunni. The Alawites rose up in armed revolt against the Ottoman's on multiple occasions, some of which ended in savage defeat, and others which ended in a tense calm during which the Alawites stepped away from world affairs, leaving the Turkish government alone in hopes of this being reciprocated. After the fall of the Ottoman Empire in the First World War and the formation of the French Mandate of Syria out of the Sykes-Picot Agreement, the Alawis, along with many other Syrians, were able to be recruited into the French armed forces for indefinite periods of time, and often didn't object as the French created small provisional states within the area for each minority population, including an Alawite State which was later dismantled but gave the Alawis key positions in both government and military.

Following a coup in 1949 (3 years following the end of the French Mandate of Syria and the withdrawal of French forces from the area), Alawites slowly consolidated their control of the state apparatus and, after 3 wars with Israel—each of which resulted in a humiliating defeat—Hafez al-Assad was able to maneuver his way up through the ranks of the now-ruling Baathist party to become its eventual dictatorial leader in 1970 after yet another coup. To his credit, he was able to reign in a relatively stable phase of political life in Syria, though mostly through the use of brutal repression and censorship of free speech. It's hard to say with any certainty what role Hafez's Alawite religion played in his 30 year tenure as President, but following his death and the inauguration of his son, Bashar, religion was—at the very least—being employed as a helpful rhetorical tool to inspire unquestioning allegiance as well as continue to elaborate on his cult of personality.

For example, in a 2011 speech to parliament in Damascus—during the outbreak of the Syrian Civil War—Bashar brazenly declared: “we’re reforming all the time. So anyone demanding more change must be an enemy. And we all know how our enemies are treated.” Similar statements followed, occasionally interjected with the so-called 'spontaneous' adoration of legislators who would cheer: “God, Syria and Bashar only,” followed by, “Our souls, our blood, we sacrifice for you.” This all culminated in a rather frightening final statement from a politician in the crowd, who endearingly screamed: “the Arab world is too small for you; you should govern the whole world, Mr President.” These statements, though not directly connected to Assad's religiosity, are as connected to his orthodox disposition as Mitt Romney utilizing God in his campaign rhetoric as a staunch believer in Mormonism.

By and large, genuine religious convictions on the part of Middle Eastern leaders is dependent on the country. For the most part, Syria has been ruled as a secular state. But when things started falling apart, the centrality of sectarianism in a geopolitical context highlighted how deeply-ingrained these divisions really were. Shia Iran immediately decided to support Assad's fledgling government; first with supplies, and later with direct (though undeclared) military intervention. This lent further impetus to the Gulf nations—represented under the umbrella of the Gulf Cooperation Council—to fund and arm the so-called 'moderate' Syrian opposition.

The Gulf Cooperation Council is made up of Kuwait, Bahrain, Qatar, Oman, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), and Saudi Arabia. What do these conservative monarchies have in common?

They each identify as Sunni.

There was even talk of them inducting Jordan and Morocco—both non-Gulf states, both Sunni—in some limited capacity, which was interpreted as their 'closing ranks' in the face of perceived proxy aggression on the part of Iran. And, with the rise of ISIS (the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria) followed by the groups' stunning military successes in northern Iraq and its subsequent declaration of an Islamic Caliphate—based on a historically utopian desire to return to the Rashidun Caliphate which was first ruled by Muhammad's father-in-law, Abu Bakr, and followed by 3 Caliphs (leaders) who are considered, in Sunni Islam, to be the four “Rightly Guided” Caliphs—Saudi Arabia was accused of having previously funded and armed the group in what might have been a serious geopolitical miscalculation motivated by the fact that both the Saudis and ISIS share the same sectarian disposition.

This is not to say that all (or even most) Sunni Muslims support ISIS or the Saudi monarchy, but it is to say this is where things get a little more detailed, and a lot more complicated.

Following the Sunni-Shia divide, and as was stated above, there were further subdivisions and the development of sub-sects of either a Sunni or Shia origin, most of which differed quite radically from either main sect in their own unique ways. One particular sub-sect of Sunni Islam which spread with popular ferocity throughout the Arab world was the literalist, puritanical (and fundamentalist) interpretation of Sunni doctrine known as Wahhabism. Though I will refrain from delving into the history of Wahhabism in itself, it is important to understand the ultraconservatism of the movement in the proper context.

Saudi Arabia—an American ally boasting massive oil reserves and a repressive absolute monarchy—is a Wahhabi Sunni state. Its medieval ultraconservatism has made it one of the most profoundly backwards countries in the modern world, being one of the last places where women cannot drive and must wear full-body veils by law. It is also the only place on Earth that beheads people suspected of witchcraft or so-called 'black magic.' During the period in which ISIS was beheading Western hostages such as American journalist James Foley and British humanitarian aid worker David Haines, Saudi Arabia beheaded at least 22 people in August 2014 alone. This, however, is a conservative estimate. As surprising as it may seem for those who have noted the Saudi's to be a loyal American ally, the Saudi Arabian government is exactly the same as ISIS in its nuanced interpretation of Islamic doctrine. Whether the Saudis were funding and/or arming the group in its early years—back when it was al-Qaeda in Iraq and fighting the American occupation—is a curious thought to entertain, as it would point to a utilitarian power politics on the part of the Saudis in which they felt impelled to fund insurgents hell-bent on annihilating the armed forces of Saudi Arabia's closest international ally. This, however, is simply a consideration on my part and is neither substantiated, nor even outwardly claimed. I've only posited it as a possibility due to a similar geopolitical miscalculation made on the part of the Pakistani ISI (Inter-Services Intelligence) when they helped to found the Afghan Taliban in 1994 under the direct command of then-Interior Minister Nasrullah Barbar, only ceasing military and financial support after the attacks of September 11^th, 2001. However, it has been alleged this support did not in fact end at all; new allegations sprung up following the death of Osama bin Laden as to how and why the al-Qaeda leader was able to live in a fortified compound in the city of Abbottabad under the nose of the Pakistani government—though I'm going to stop this thought here, as it has no bearing on an understanding of the war in Syria.

Earlier on, I mentioned how one could almost schematize who is on which side by dividing them into their own sectarian camps. The emphasis on almost should be explained, as the situation is comprised of many more shades of grey than pitch black or bright white, and just because someone identifies as Sunni or Shia doesn't mean you can safely assume where their allegiances lie. Muslim society is as diverse and kaleidoscopic as society in the West—possibly moreso, in certain respects—and there are bands of Sunni militants who have sworn allegiance to Assad's government whom are actively battling to defeat the revolution. Even the Vice President of Assad's administration, Farouk al-Sharaa, is of a Sunni persuasion, though he is far from being the 'exception to the rule,' as both the foreign minister as well as the head of the National Security Bureau are also Sunni. This leads directly into the next important point in our search to understand the war in Syria: the standing government—regardless of each individual members personal religious persuasion—has been secular in its operative nature since the rise of Hafez al-Assad in 1970. Though it has used the toolbox of blind orthodoxy to leverage a deified persona of the Assad dynasty in the eyes of common Syrians, neither Bashar nor his father designed their agendas from a sectarian standpoint.

In fact, both leaders worked from within the framework of their Ba'athist ideology, which—though ruthless—has always been an entirely secular movement based on Arab nationalism as opposed to any sort of political affinity with Islam. This hasn't stopped sectarianism from poking its ugly head out of the dirt, however, as even the secular Assad dynasty has had to deal with the implied criticism of being a direct part of a powerful minority and all the complicated social issues this entails. The Syrian Civil war—though mostly affected by deeply-rooted sectarian tensions—has only become a religious war due to the Islamist nature of many rebel groups (such as Al-Nusra, the Islamic Front, Ajnad al-Sham, the Army of the Mujahideen, Hezbollah, and—obviously—ISIS, to name only a few). The irrational universalism of these Islamist revolts has led to many inter-rebel conflicts, stalling the formation of a rebel coalition and granting Assad the leeway with which to slowly degrade opposition to his regime.

It may help here to describe the political worldview of Islam in order to effectively illustrate why the war has essentially ground into a perpetual (seemingly unbreakable) stalemate. But before we do so, one important distinction needs to be made between Islam as a personal or group religion, and Islamism, the interpretive adaptation of Muslim religious principles into a theory upon which to politically order societies and ideally (as will be discussed) the entire world.

Islamism carries itself on the central dualism of Dar al-Islam (literally, 'house of Islam'), and Dar al-Harb (house of war, or—as translated from the slightly alternative “Dar al-Garb”—it can quite literally mean 'house of the West'). The Dar al-Islam exists in a state of constant tension with the Dar al-Harb, and the posited destiny of the former is to overcome the latter and establish the House of Islam as the universal operating system across the entirety of the globe. What's striking about such a concept is that neither Dar al-Islam nor Dar al-Harb are ever mentioned in the Quaran; as well, one must think of 'Islamism' as a term as diverse as its purely religious parallel terminology, Islam. There are multiple forms it has taken as a political ideology, some considerably looser than others, though the militaristic Islamism we are now referring to—as in the Islamism inherent to most actors in the Syrian conflict—is, indeed, the dualism between Dar al-Harb and Dar al-Islam.

The bipolarity of such a worldview posits that what is within the realm of Islam (Dar al-Islam) is in an eternal state of hot and cold warfare with the realms beyond Islam's current sphere of control (the Dar al-Harb).

PLEASE NOTE: 

THIS IS STILL A WORK IN PROGRESS

The Singularity is Here

Materialism aside, I've always lavished the weighted, sleek figure of a new device. Whether it's the smooth black of a store-bought notebook computer or the mousey compact of an 8 gigabyte iPod Nano, my enamor with high-technology has been a generational staple since close to the the day I was born. A more recent affair has been my relationship with substance; very rarely has said relationship been without purpose—whether vague or explicit—except during the odd cocaine binge or my popping an extra capsule of Vyvanse when I'm already a tweaked-out emotionless husk squat over a pile of finished homework, craving a stimulant euphoria so-as to keep on chug-chug-chugging my body and brain for fear of the alternative: natural fatigue, and comedown depression. As well, it's likely I try to avoid any potentially visceral realization that my body is beat and eternally damaged as a result of moderate abuse. As will be discussed, it never seems clear if I am making good or breaking bad in this world of liberally-sized lines, livestreams, BlogSpots, Pfizer babies, bursting housing bubbles, waning American hegemony, and the cultural return of the psychedelic. It is my wandering assertion that both drugs and technology—whether in their own respective rights or as a close synergy—are conduits and extensions of ourselves; the next logical steps in moving forward the complexity and intelligence of natural evolution.

* * *

I used to be addicted to following links. On Wikipedia especially, I would sit for hours upon hours upon hours absorbing information fragments that shot through me like visible flashbacks to memories that were not my own and lessons I could now learn vicariously through the conduit of someone elses documented experience.

The light emitting diodes would fiddle with my pupils; I would wonder, at times, if my eyes were just great black demonic puddles when the lights were out. It was that, or they would retract into two little black holes the size of one of these letters, surrounded—rather romantically—by small lagoons of darkish blue. These were my nights alone with myself, where I would recall with intellectual ecstasy and vigor one of my favorite movie lines of all time, spoken by eccentric tour guide and philosopher Timothy “Speed” Levitch:

“On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion.”

* * *

Of course, the rise in complexity is inevitably accompanied by a greater demand for stillness and rest, lest the over-exertion of human cognition run our collective psyche into a hall of endless mirrors, spawning a horde of negative feedback loops that manifest in global anxieties and dangerous (even violent?) impulses. The ultimate end-result of this sort of feedback are such common confusions as believing 'theory' and spoken or written vocabulary to be the basis of ultimate and seemingly conclusive (dogmatic) understanding, whereas it's the intangibly indefinable reality of things which predicates all theory. Theory—as a concept in itself and in order to illustrate how we have deified it—can be summed-up in religious terms as “the [Almighty] Word.”¹ To counter this impetus, humans have naturally wheeled backward into the past for answers on how to balance the mind, finding a rich tapestry of practical advice in the mystic traditions of religious prayer and meditation—established ways of silencing the Word and subordinating it to (what Eckhart Tolle or any other Eastern mystic would call) the eternal Now. Yet, even here—in pursuit of mental clarity and reprieve from omnipotent thought—drugs have been utilized as a sort of express-lane into 'union with the Divine;' in layman's terms, this is the felt union with the “Great Big Mystery” we are each born into, and yet will never be able to encapsulate via mere concept or description. A Benedictine monk of the modern era—perhaps a little avant garde in his approach to religious practice—once said that “[e]cstasy² has the capacity to put one on the right path to divine union... It should not be used unless one is really searching for God.”

“Prayer,” he continued, “is communication with God, but tends to be blocked by the internal dialogue, distractions and losing faith in oneself. Using [e]cstasy while trying to pray removes these obstacles,” he claimed. Though he only uses the drug from one to three times a year, the experience causes prayer to flow easier, while at times it has also provided him with valuable insights such as "a very deep comprehension of divine passion."

Where I believe this monk is right, I also recognize he is leaning in far too close to his ingrained dogmas when he brazenly declares how it should and should not be used, as if his 'spiritual plateau' has given him a mutually exclusive rise in religious wisdom and command. What this monk fails to recognize is that we are all—by implication of the human condition—looking for “God” (as the wide allegorical term used to describe the giant, ambiguously inexpressible and minutely-experienced infinity of Reality with a capital R), and that all things may be considered meditation if inwardly felt as such.

So, by implication, it is my assertion—on a macrocultural level—that drugs (including—but not limited to—MDMA) are the modern toolbox used to 'break the fourth wall'³ of consensual reality, thus inducing religious experience: an ecstatic recognition of ones implicit union with existence as a whole. As complexity increases, and intelligence piles on intelligence, this immediate portal into divine providence is exactly what is needed to equalize the growing hyperintelligence of our collective consciousness, as well as be sure our theories do not overcome and rule us, but rather, that we overcome and subordinate them with our acceptance of life as essentially unknowable. We do this as holy humans gifted with the creative ability to define and tentatively order almost all of what we perceive. Drugs have a proven potential to ground us in this divinely-felt reality, though in broad strokes, this can only be said of the overall trends and the ultimate majority, as there are plenty of individuals and groups that will fall off (or, perhaps, simply 'drip away') in this process. Whether it's death by overdose, or the triggering of schizophrenic psychosis as a result of predisposition, not all of us will make it through the ringer unscathed. Some of us will get lost in the hall of mirrors and forget it's just a series of reflections, convincing ourselves of strange and frightening delusions as the feedback loop grows louder. Others—trapped in this hall—will face the mirrors and face the fear with such reckless sincerity that each mirror will shatter into melting shards of glass, and we will stand in this allegorical space and realize: we are finally free. We will tune into the meditative equalizer of the collective psyche and find a level balance upon which to continue the dance of life. Sobriety is a relative term.

And by 'sobriety,' what exactly do I mean? When digging for a definition online, one source defines it as “the condition of not having any measurable levels [of], or effects from mood-altering drugs.” But—I believe—it would be unfair to say 'sobriety' necessarily means a lack of chemical intoxication, as both induced ecstatic experience—whether via drugs, meditation, or exercise—as well as 'insanity'—such as delusional schizophrenia and clinical depression⁴—are not qualitatively sober states of mind given the intensity of irrational behavior and thought. Typically, we would say that people in these states are 'not in their right mind,' but this often includes the relative imposition of 'right' and 'wrong.' People say this of those who are intoxicated as well, and in this respect, I think it would be wise to frame it as follows:

'Mental illness' can only be described as such if it is a negative experience with negative consequence, such as a clinically depressed individual with suicidal tendencies. This is often treated through a synergy of psychiatry and antidepressants, so in this sense, the administration of therapeutic drugs can be seen as someone using substance to find their 'right mind' because said 'right mind' was not a static given at birth. This is in stark contrast to the online definition of 'sobriety' which states that “[s]obriety is ... considered to be the natural state of a human being given at a birth.” But in the context in which I use it, 'sobriety' means nothing more than a rational balance, and as such, a new-born does not qualify as sober. When there is a lack of balance, those who are willing to take the risk can find said balance through the use of certain psychedelics in the proper set and setting, though I do not wish to sound conceited and pretend drugs are the only way to find this balance because they most certainly are not. There are many ways to plug into the meditative equalizer of the collective psyche, and drugs—I believe—are only an express lane.

This is, maybe, where technology falls neatly into the picture. Or, not so much 'neatly' as logically; with a sort of implicit and inevitable absurdity that measures itself in synonymous union with the rise of collective hyperintelligence, having acted as both its predicator and intensifier over the course of the 15^th to 21^st centuries (and prior, of course, but I place my starting point—rather arbitrarily—at the invention of the printing press, as it is my assertion—or, assumption?—that the printing press is what ultimately accelerated our overall advance). Though we live in the consensual (and waning) illusion of being separate egos carried about in flesh-bodies inside of a bag of skin, we linguistically recognize the absurdity of such a claim when we look down at our hand and say we have a hand, as opposed to we are a hand; or, “this is my hand,” as opposed to, “this is a hand.” In reality, the hand is an inevitable and compound part of you, though to further illustrate my point, I can utilize this same linguistic ambiguity to assert that you are saying the same thing when you pick up your phone and say, “this is my phone,” as opposed to, “this is a phone.” And, in this day and age of increasingly smarter phones with which we each have unbridled access to the entirety of collective memory, knowledge, and documented experience, it is easy to see the truth to Jason Silva's⁵ observation: we are already cyborgs; technology is an extension of both our intellectual capacities and our physical bodies. To further drive this point home, we have been in a self-amplifying feedback loop with our inventions since the advent of language, with said inventions acting as exoskeletons with much wider function than the basic human faculties of arms, legs, hands, and feet.

* * *

At this point, I feel it might be necessary to address—for posterity's sake as well as to further marginalize the Judaeo-Christian intuition of substance as taboo—the fact that I may never have come to these conclusions were it not for the use of drugs—which did, as stated above, break my 'fourth wall,' allowing my intellect to dive into thought and reflection from multiple and otherwise unseen angles. This came alongside my utilization of high-technology such as the internet, which exposed me to the entirety of our collective psyche—point-blank—from the day I was born.

* * *

Only a couple of nights prior to this writing, my girlfriend and I were on our way home from a friends house-warming party during which we insuffulated 2 or 3 lines of ketamine—the sedative-psychedelic and 'rising star' in the underworld drug scene—becoming deliberately lost and enamored with the misty visage of Victoria at 3 AM on a Monday night. The surrealism of a city of empty streets in an early maroon fog was truly something to behold, and the colonial vibe of old British architecture in fluid combination with the ancient totems of the First Nations people was an unbridled magic. At one point, we were gazing with psychedelic curiosity through the window of the gift-shop at the Royal BC Museum, a collection of Emily Carr books placed on a front-facing display. All I knew of Emily Carr, at this point, was of her career as a famous author born in this same city. My interest was immediately piqued, and I wished to know more, so I took the smartphone from out of my right pocket, held the 'home' button for close to a half second, and explicitly asked the device: “who was Emily Carr?”

Within seconds, I had a detailed dossier on close to every detail I could have ever wanted to know.

* * *

I was brought into a world where the self-amplifying feedback loop of human progress has accelerated to such rapid intensity that we are witnessing evolution manifest within the short space of our own lives. In some cases, we also witness it within ourselves and within those around us, constantly pushing the boundaries ad infinitum until the glass sphere bursts and we realize it isn't glass, but a bubble.

Sobriety is a relative term.

Did you have your cup of coffee this morning?

1 As is stated in John 1.1: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

2 Perhaps better known as the famous ethneogen, MDMA

3 "Breaking the fourth wall," in theatre and film, often means having a character become aware of their fictional nature. In this context, I use it to describe how acute transcendental experience often causes one to become aware of their own 'fictional' (or, conceptual) nature within the context of labelled and ordered society.

4 Clinical depression is not so much 'insanity' as it is a state of deeply self-conscious irrationality.

5 Jason Silva (born February 6, 1982) is a Venezuelan-American television personality, filmmaker, and performance philosopher. He is best known for his YouTube series, “Shots of Awe.”