The revolutions

Last night a friend and i stood at Hastings and Gore, holding candles for the MAP (Mobile Access Project) van. Among those standing with us, i recognized Libby Davies and Spencer Herbert. This evening i sent the following letter to the premier:

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Dear Premier Gordon Campbell,

I can only echo the words of the editorial in The Vancouver Sun [Cutting off funding for street prostitute van is unconscionable; June 17, 2009]

"...it is nothing short of extraordinary that the province would eliminate funding for a project like this in a city still reeling from the murders of scores of women."

According to the executive director of PACE, who was interviewed on the CBC yesterday morning, the MAP Van program only costs $250,000 a year. It is outrageous that such a project, saving the lives of the most vulnerable women in the province, could be scrapped at a time when the government is spending incalculable amounts of money on the dubious spectacle of the olympics. I urge you, as a man -- and as a fellow resident of West Point Grey -- to take immediate action and restore funding to this urgently needed service!

For almost two weeks now, the survival sex trade workers in Vancouver have been in serious danger without the MAP Van. Do the right thing: fund the MAP van now!

I look forward to your response...
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Tomorrow i get to hear an old friend speak about the work we do at Peak House, and its connection to human rights. I know this is short notice, but here's the flyer (it is supposed to be a fund raiser)...


Vikki always gives me new insights and perspective on what it is that i "do".

I also just have to shout out to anyone who happened to catch Lightning Dust (and Ladyhawk & the Constantines) last week: i was reborn (as usual) in the sweaty euphoria of your beautiful tunes. If god(s) were dead it would be necessary to recreate them, and hearing the Webbers' heavenly harmonies would easily do the trick -- it makes me feel holy every time.

Meanwhile, amidst all the sound and fury, the struggles and glories, the lovely rain and the new Ghostbusters video game, this week brought something else; the most revolutionary experience of my life so far.

In a quiet little room, a woman wearing a white coat held a goopy instrument up to my lover's beautiful belly and then, on a blueish monitor screen, i beheld a tiny little face. Little fingers. A perfect, tiny spinal cord. And two tiny feet. I saw the future in the present. And everything changed.