WTF? Have we Vancouverites lost our minds?

Anti-poverty activists accuse Vancouver's downtown ambassadors of discrimination. You had to throw that in there, eh? You couldn't have just said "Vancouver's downtown ambassadors accused of discrimination", noooo.

CanWest huffs and puffs while free speech burns. I'm sorry I can't the image of a cartoon wolf dressed as a paper boy blowing down this little Palestinian refugee camp.

Blackout offers leaders a wake-up call. Foremost being the revelation that you can't vote without electricity.

B.C. books $2.9 billion budget surplus. Sweet! Bank that shit. Don't give any of it to Cambie Merchants, don't use it for light rail into the Fraser Valley, don't compensate forestry workers, don't use it for land claims, and don't invest it in alternative energy.

When Onni purchased the old Woodlands site, it undertook to preserve certain historic buildings on the site, among them the old asylum buildings. Today the ravaged Centre Block keeps a lonely vigil over the smoky ruins, so clearly the company failed miserably.

Beau Jarvis, the vice president of development, has stated that Onni spent $15,000 on security, however I would be very interested to know how much of that was actually spent on security for its four construction sites at Victoria Hill. I live in a condo directly overlooking the old building and I have not seen anyone conduct a perimeter on the asylum site this year. As others have pointed out ---if four fires were set and the entire building covered in graffiti the "phantom security" was pretty hopeless. Just look at the number of photos on facebook and flickr to see how easy it was to gain access. In fact some days there was a line up to get through the main hole in the fence.

I wish I could've told you earlier, but, well, the power was out, and well because we kept being told by BC Hydro that it was only going to be a couple of more hours. So, we waited. The smart ones went and bought candles while restaurants scrambled to salvage their food. And while it may not have been as unifying and magical an experience as the great 2003 Blackout, we came together nonetheless, in the dark, sharing reconnaissance of open coffee shops (Bambo has power!) and rescuing those of us wholly dependent on fobs to get into our buildings. The only sliver of light for those residents without power is this fitting irony: BC Hydro's main office is out of electricity too!

I have yet, in my 3 year reign of abuse here at Beyond Robson, told you about a magical little gathering called Sunday Soccer at McLean Park, home of Sunday United. For what must be 7 years we've met at 3pm almost every single Sunday (in the winter we play on the gravel field at the school). Given the often insane number of drunken hipster flailing around in the blistering heat wearing short shorts and tight jeans, it can get a wee bit crowded. Sorry if you feel like I've stolen a piece of your life for not telling you about the best game of 'balance the Pacific Pilsner in one hand while running at top speeds' in town, but I'm pretty sure you need to either a) own a motorbike, b) be in a shit-hot Vancouver noise-band, c) go to Emily Carr, d) have either a beard, a boyfriend with a beard, or a really ironic t-shirt on, or e) be an eccentric Vietnamese bottle lady/bootlegger, an 80 year old Korean man nicknamed Kip Winger, a little kid, or some crazy european castaway who never passes the ball. Also suggested but not required are any of the following:

-Djarums
-a ridiculous headband
-witty banter/extensive knowledge of obscure Italo space disco
-some sort of fancy fig tapenade
-war paint
-a bottle of cheap but slightly eccentric alcohol, such as Baby Duck, Scnapps, Rice Wine, Cooking Sherry...
-free spirited alt-moms
-fixie

There was a palpable sense of relief for some as the asylum on the hill smoldered; those darkest of memories up in black smoke. For others it highlights the neglect, not only in preserving our heritage, but in housing our homeless who, in the great irony of de-institutionalization are themselves suffering from mental illness.

A few years ago Michael De Courcy had the chance to document the building before it was gutted by scrap metal enthusiasts. His haunting pictures will no doubt invoke images from The Shining, the dank red carpets, the stained yellow wallpaper, the 70s modernist additions so awkward and bulky.

A couple perverts on the loose . Thats all.