February 25, 2004 e the other press © continued from page 8 calls, spreadsheets, and Kenny G. As I saluted these white-collared work- ers with a peace sign, wondering if they had protested something back in their day, I felt utter shame— partly for their corrupted and lost souls, but mostly for the Gap sweater tied around my waist (was my future slowly rising up those same office windows?). True, the crowd was, at best, bare- ly attentive. True, the crowd was at best capable only of simple rhyme schemes. And true, when the beau- tiful black diva rocked the Vancouver Art Gallery after the march, filling the downtown core with words that bared their brilliant soul through rhymes preaching nothing more complex than simple goodness, still the children stared. Thousands of us together, sending messages to someone, unable to do anything more than just show up. And this is fine. Every little step is as important as the next. I sat down, my protest sign at my feet with my sweater, still cloaked in my cooling sweat and soaked in the bathing sun, I felt alright. We may bear a striking resemblance to our baby-boomer parents, both in habits and beliefs, but for one day we united. We may not have the same vim and vigor that our parents demonstrated, when they demon- strated, but we showed that a gener- ation can stand up and affect posi- tive change. Maybe that makes us culpable of only moderate drug use, or maybe it’s just harder to get riled up in a world of Justin and Britney rather than Janis and Jimi. No, we didn’t throw a shit-kicker of a protest. But we did get a number of people to show up, many of them first-timers (myself included). Whether we sent a message to Gordon Campbell, or simply to our sister (can you tape Maury for me?), everyone showed up and represent- ed. Take it for what it was—a peace- ful movement that moved you for a moment. Maybe next time you'll shout a little louder with me. Maybe next time I'll leave the sweater at home with Maury and bring my sister instead. Wave when you see me— I'll be the red-eyed guy with the fire in his belly. We'll go stand in the sun and have a dance. Every little step is as important as the next. rN THE OTHER PRESS |S HIRING!!! Sneaking in the Back Brandon Ferguson OP Contributor How strange to now sit on the other side. Three days after walking for my educational freedom, 72 hours after marching for my intellectual property (or the right to bare it), I find myself entangled in a web of DOUGIMUN bureaucracy. Fake bureaucracy, mind you, but much like breasts I sometimes have trou- ble distinguishing the two. I'm at Douglas College’s mini- MUN, or Model UN. The reason? Well, I’m still figuring that one out myself. All I recall is saying some- thing to a friend like “I enjoy talk- ing about politics” and the next thing I know I’m back at this damn daycare college on the first day of everyone else’s reading break. Meh. However, politics have become the most over-arching, all-influenc- ing sphere in which we live, so this is certainly something I can stom- ach. Politics touch everything (like Michael Jackson at a daycare?). It reaches every corner in space (like my dog’s bionic flatulence?). It con- sumes everything and intrigues us all. Or at least it should. My friend Mike, who coaxed me into signing up for DOUGIMUN, said to me, “When you think about it, really, there is nothing more nec- essary to understand than the dynamics of politics, because it’s everywhere you turn.” Yes, very much like Jacko at the Sunshine Daycare Centre, it’s everywhere you turn. That’s creepy. DOUGIMUN began at the unforgiving early hour of nine on a Saturday morning. It began with much coffee, little fanfare, an army of high school students, a handful of Douglas College kids, Mike, me, and Bali dancers from the Maxwell International Bahai School. After some dance, more dance, a brief break, dance, and then dance again, we listened to a guest speaker, Mr. Peter Bates, the deputy administra- \e BCOU British Columbia Open University os 2664 ay é 2 ~ = \ y NY aS ee tive general consulate happy, super- bureaucrat, fun-time, politician guy of Canada. My opinion of politi- cians is comparable to my opinion of cesspool placement in my back- yard, which is to say, highly unfavourable. However, Mr. Bates was as eloquent as he is knowledge- able, which is to say, very highly. Mr. Bates answered audience questions ad nauseam about the US sucking, the US killing, the US maiming etc. As a representative of 2 ys break, I was honestly impressed by this high-ranking bureaucrat’s pres- Then, like dropped a bomb. “Marijuana supports terrorism,” he said, “or at least that is the cur- rent American assertion.” Well. Mr. Bates was certainly catering to this homegrown BC crowd, and his wry smirk indicated that perhaps he found this assertion as laughable as I did. My home- grown BC buddy Mike chuckled next to me—my homegrown BC bud chuckled somewhere in my truck’s glove box. And then there was dance. After much ballyhoo and Bali dancing, we got down to the business of del- egates debating diplomatically. We debated about the fake issues that are important today in our fake world. Silicone solutions for saline problems. Bearing in mind my earlier trepi- dation for this mini-MUN confer- ence. Truman, he Politics touch everything like Michael Jackson at a daycare? the government of Canada, it required both great eloquence and comprehensive knowledge to navi- gate through this minefield of anti- American sentiment (the Americans haven't signed international treaties to ban dangerous child-killing and people-maiming landmines, you know?) while still answering our questions in a forthright and intelli- gent manner (the Americans are also the leading contributor to proj- ects that remove dangerous child- killing, and people-maiming land- mines—who knew?). Although I was exhausted, in suit and tie, and far from the freedom and sun so enjoyed by you goobers on your well-deserved reading ence, and noting that even today I cant say “DOUGIMUN” without laughing hysterically at the absurdi- ty of such a title for such a suppos- edly serious gathering of pseudo- diplomats and international intel- lects, I should say, it was no protest, but it was still a smashing good time. Representing the fine nation of Chile, I engaged in mock debate within the hallowed halls of the World Health Organization (or room 4308 for our purposes). The only protocol adamantly adhered to was that of the aggravatingly loud pleas for “Decorum!” whenever the general assembly veered perilously close to a good time. Everyone kept turning their heads expecting to see Martha Stewart brandishing mauve blinds with complementary bur- gundy throw pillows, spicing up our drab environment with some morn- ing show decorum. It’s a good thing. But it is an even better thing that the chairs and co-chairs (par- don, Honourable Chairs and Co- chairs) of the WHO, and everyone involved in DOUGIMUN for that matter, adhered only to having a good time. Arguments were made, proposals were tabled, and resolu- tions were begrudgingly passed. More importantly, everyone left the four day conference with mem- ories of a good time. Over the four days that should have been so preciously wasted in the sun, while your feet were raised on patios like our united fists were raised against tuition gouging, I was busy passing fake amendments. Where my future is headed, fake or real, is impossible for me to say—in an office cubicle on the twelfth floor of a high rise, in a government post- ing with the first nation of hockey, or simply sitting on my Mom’s back patio musing, “DOUGIMUM... hee hee...dude, pass the chips.” The point that I'll take from this conference, beyond learning that I am in fact a terrorist, is this—you can affect change in a number of ways. Take it to the street, or pass it through a bill. I guess the main idea is to just be heard. In a world full of weirdos, with legislated tyranny nipping at everyone's heels, all you can try to do is to learn new things by trying out strange ideas. Whether that means eating cow tongue, running a marathon, attempting a new sexual position, asking out the cute girl, or learning to juggle chainsaws—if it’s new, it may also be exciting. At the very least you'll know in the end. We really aren't in the business of figuring out what it is we want to do with our lives—we are waltzing through a life path landmine field, slowly figuring out what it is we don’t want to do. If you have an interest in politics, I'd suggest you try the DOUGIMUN conference next year. If you have an interest in anything, I'd suggest you try it soon. Each new experience is a leap towards clarity. Every first step is as important as the last. "Can't get the courses you need? Getting the post-secondary credentials you need is not always easy-from getting into the classes you want to balancing school work with other commitments. The British Columbia Open University offers over 500 distance university and college courses, many of them open for registration throughout the year. Transfer the BCOU credits you earn to the program of your choice or apply them to a BCOU credential. Register today. Start any time. 604.431.3300 = 1.800.663.9711 www.bcou.ca BRITISH COLUMBIA OPEN UNIVERSITY A Division of the OPEN LEARNING AGENCY http://www.otherpress.ca_ Page 9