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Maxed Out

We’re not responsible…

By G.D.

Olympic dreams and nightmares

(Prague, VPI) I’m lost in Kafka’s Prague. Franz, one of the city’s most famous sons, has always been termed a writer of ‘fiction.’ I’m not so sure.

O Canada, our home and native land...

By G.D. Maxwell Not today and not tomorrow and neither the day after that nor the day after that but the very next day is... Canada Day. It’s a holiday.

Un-Stuffing Tourism Whistler

By G.D. Maxwell When my Perfect Partner and I arrived in Whistler a little over a decade ago, pretty much everything we owned of a corporeal nature fit neatly into Mello Yello, the recently acquired but already well-travelled Westfailya.

One-on-one with Ontario Court of Appeal

By G.D.

Re-writing Canadian history

By G.D. Maxwell History is rarely anybody’s favourite subject in school. I’m not sure why but if pressed, I’d have to lay the blame at the feet of most of the people who teach the subject.

Opportunity moos

By G.D. Maxwell "I’ve got blisters on my fingers!" — John Lennon Me too. And thumbs, and palms and a few other places I’d rather not mention.

Orwell meets Mies van der Rohe

By G.D. Maxwell Less is more. Small is beautiful. Money for nothing. Chicks for free. Nice thoughts. All nice thoughts. Orwellian, but nice. And let’s be honest, totally out of step with who we are and what we’ve become.

M. Cauchon goes to Washington

By G.D. Maxwell It’ll be like trying to sell bibles to atheists. Big Macs to vegetarians. Abstinence to swingers.

Always room for one more

By G.D. Maxwell "Enough is enough!" My sister and I were playing on the livingroom floor. We were engaged in an escalating moment of our favourite game.