Stick to the Plan

I can’t deny—it’s a good time to be a corporate person. We’ve cleared the way to further controlling access to information, and have made great progress towards ensuring the rights of the elite to use their power to leach from the coffers of the taxpayers.

Yes, for the rich and powerful, for the corporate humans and those born into luxury, it certainly is a wonderful time to be alive. Of course, these boons aren’t limited to the greatest corporations alone, and your humble friends here at Brad OH Inc. have not been idle.

The bounty of the times comes to us all…except the poor of course. So right now, we are kicking back and letting the good times roll…but we’ll talk more about all that later.

For now, we encourage you to relax, sit back, and find solace in whatever joy has been left to you. If that proves to be little, then trust instead in us—big things are coming, and as any sound minded person knows, when the pockets of the corporations swell, something is certain to come trickling down to the rest.

Trust us, and stick to the plan…

-Brad OH Inc.

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Re-Share: EViL

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

This post was originally from March 19th, 2017. It remains sadly relevant however, and we thought it deserved a re-share.


In the great old stories, it’s never hard to spot the source of evil. It may be a winged beast, or a black rider, or a simple, unblazoned ring sitting on a table, just waiting to change the world…

In reality, however, it’s rarely so easy. Evil may take many guises, and come from any direction. Is evil inherent to humanity? Can it ever be prevented?

Education, equal opportunity and the provision of basic needs and human rights is the most obvious answer, for by removing the greatest temptations towards desperate actions, we are most likely to see them decrease. Yet there seems to be an evil in this world which pervades and permeates even the best intentions. It sprouts up no matter what we do. It finds the cracks, or makes them, and it’s dark blossom unfolds often where it is looked for the least.

Traditionally, there are two ends of the polarity in response. One is to be jaded and fearful, rejecting everything different lest it bring evil in with it. This may prevent the terror from without, but it transforms the hearts of people, and creates hatred and evil within.

The other side would be unending faith in the goodness of human kind, sometimes to the open denial of the gathering clouds. This is idealistic, and often this school of thought is quickly met by the bitter reminder that in the end, best intentions cannot ward off evil acts.

We cannot be too careful, or too careless. Vigilance is the price of peace, and those who would deny the presence of evil may soon suffer its harsh truth.

Alas that we do not have a ring to focus on and destroy. Evil is a more insidious thing than that, manifested most often in the sins of pride, greed, and avarice—the strongest motivators of human vice. We cannot see it, nor cast it into the volcano to banish it forever.

Yet the discerning heart can feel it grow. Where will it strike? None can say.

Still, if you pay attention, you can feel the tension in the air, smell the fresh tinders and see the sparks dancing against the black night sky. Old threats and bedtime stories are alive again. Evil grows…now is the time for heroes.

-Brad OH Inc.

Who Are We?

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

One phrase that’s heard with depressing frequency these days is the impotent refrain of “this is not who we are”.

It begs the question—who are we?

That’s a pretty deep question to anyone but an asshole.

Personally, I’m a little bit different around pretty much everyone I know.

I notice their sense of humour, the tones and facial expressions they respond to best, establish nicknames and idioms to go back to in need.

Alone? That’s a wildcard.

Still, I don’t expect that’s what makes someone something.

Is it their actions?

Their stories?

The changes they’ve made?

The happiness they’ve created?

…Who am I?

A soul, lost and confused, trying it’s best to do good for the world. Taking it all in—the good, the bad, the perverse, the fanatical. Working to process it all, to understand it all, to bring it all together, and in the light remind it.

…Who it was in the beginning.

-Brad OH Inc.

‘That’ Guy at the Bar

 

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

I’d arrived early for my flight, so naturally I found myself at the airport bar having a few last beers before calling it curtains on another fine vacation.

With the thrill of travel still having hold on me, my eyes shot about the room, this way and that, taking in all the different sorts of people gathered. Now, they were no longer the fascinating locals of a strange land, but a mixed assortment of likeminded travellers coming or going to where I would never know.

It was a fairly typical crowd. Young couples with diamonds in their eyes, old men with coals. People exhausted from long treks and people eager to start new ones. And of course, there was ‘that’ guy.

We’ve all seen him before.

Red faced and talkative. Talking too loud, talking too much. Talking too forcefully—too absolutely certain of the value of his long-winded rants, and utterly convinced he was the life of an otherwise non-existent party. He was the kind of idiot you see all the time.

The kind I do my best to avoid. And I certainly tried.

I scrolled through my phone and sipped my beer while waiting on my burger. Still, I’d glance up now and then, taking in the annoyed but patient expressions around him.

He’d already shouted out a young couple sitting on the side of the bar near him. They laughed and waved as they hurried away. I saw his laugh melt into a leer as he watched her take her partner’s hand and leave. Then he fell into blathering to a bunch of young ‘bros’ at the bar, and I figured that would keep him occupied for a while.

My burger arrived, and I thought that was the end of it.

As I finished my meal and got to work on my next beer, I noticed that the young men had been abandoned by their loud-mouthed old counterpart. He was on the other side of the bar now, clawing at some young lady as he bellowed about his life and worth and ‘stories you wouldn’t believe’.

I wondered if she could be his daughter. That would explain the perturbed expression on her face and the patience she showed as he leaned his red face in over-close and tried once more to catch at her arm. How many times had she found him like this?

Or maybe she was just another poor stranger. Perhaps she knew the younger men and was trying to make her way past him to join her companions.

They were staring at their phones now though, and their lack of recognition seemed almost intentional.

She glanced about nervously as he spoke. I felt concerned, but maybe she was just late for a flight and struggling to remain polite.

I caught her eye at one point, and it seemed the look held overlong. Nervously, I glanced away, hoping she didn’t take me for another idiot ready to cast my hand in on the action.

Was he trying to kiss her there, or just leaning in too much under the weight of his drink?

Everyone else stared intently at whatever screen was nearest at hand. But now, I was worried.

He offered to walk her to her gate and she said she would be fine.

He persisted, and she joked that she was a big girl and could handle herself.

She laughed nervously and cast her eyes downward as she tried to step around him. That didn’t work either.

Finally, I felt guilty. I’d waited too long, thought too much.

That’s the point of all this. ‘No’ is a word to be respected. And she’d said it in every way possible while avoiding making too much of a scene.

He was circling around and cornering her near the exit by the time I stood up. I caught her eye again, but spoke this time, loud enough for the bar to hear me above his commotion. “Are you ok there?”

Until that moment, she had held her countenance in a nervous, meek mask of worry and embarrassment. Now, it threatened to break as she leaned desperately around him to answer me, “…no.”

That one did the trick. I turned to him now, giving her my back and clearing a way to the door. He looked up at me with the wry confidence of a man who has been told he was special all his life and finally came to accept it as sacrosanct.

“You need to leave her alone.” Bereft of his banter, I imagine the whole bar heard me. Still, few looked up from their phones. But she took the opening, and darted through the exit.

He held my gaze for a moment in challenge, his ruddy face wrinkling with the supreme disappointment of a toddler being told they couldn’t keep the toy they’d torn from the shelf. Then he shrank back.

“Ok,” he said with a churlish sneer, and slunk off to his seat. He sat back down with the young guys, and soon they were all laughing again.

People kept scrolling on their phones.

I wondered if I was too aggressive, and sat in uncomfortable silence until the bar tender slid over a free beer. “Good man,” he said with a conspiratorial nod.

My vacation was over. She was, presumably, safe. He, I assume, would be unaffected by the encounter.

As I finished up my second beer before moving onto the free one, I reflected on the questions I’d asked myself before acting. The justifications for my potential silence.

Was she his daughter? No.

Was she just a patient stranger? No.

Was she amused by the banter but in a rush to catch a flight? No.

It was clear enough now. It wasn’t about her shyness, or her effort to be polite. Her patience in avoiding a scene didn’t matter, and my reticence to be part of one didn’t either.

She’d said no. At least four times. That was all that mattered, and that should have been the end of it. She should not have had to repeat herself, and if she did the whole bar should have risen loudly to back up her statement and support her choice. But that’s not the world we live in.

It should not have come down to one lone person accepting they would have to be the one to stand up. But I guess that’s where we are these days, and it’s probably well ahead of where we were not so long ago.

I slid the empty cup across the bar and started on the free one. It was cold and smooth.

‘That’ guy at the bar. I thought about the term. It should mean something different. Not the pushy idiot who has no place in the bar to begin with, but rather the ones willing to speak up for those going unheard.

I wondered, if I ever saw the moment to be ‘that’ guy again, would I hesitate?

No.

-Brad OH Inc.

Re-Share: Why the United States is Not Morally Justified to Limit Immigration

Today, we have an older post for you. Originally posted on July 26th, 2015, this article remains as sadly apt today as it was then. Have things changed at all? For better or worse? Can we still harbour the same hope that was expressed in this article? Can we afford not to?


If there’s one topic permeating public discourse above all others these days, it’s immigration. How to control it, what amnesty programs should be in order, and how it will affect the future of the western world are discussed daily—politicians all sounding off with their own theories, interpretations, and biases.

But the issue is simpler than it’s made out to be. Today, we’re here to discuss why the United States (and the rest of the ‘1st World’ for that matter) has no moral justification to limit immigration whatsoever.

Popular hysteria would find this claim entirely daft no doubt. As Donald Trump elucidated so profoundly in his recent Presidential bid (Link), common perception of immigrants paints a picture of a hoard of locusts come to devastate our pristine and peaceful land. He saw some backlash to be sure (Link), but make no mistake that his sentiments are shared by entirely too large a portion of the population.

So let’s examine the issue a bit more critically.

First off, it must be noted that the North American continent as it is now was built entirely by immigrants. Steel workers, factory workers, road builders and ditch diggers all came from abroad to find the freedom still sought by immigrants today. So there’s an undeniable element of hypocrisy in any claim that immigration is inherently harmful to this or any other nation.

Speaking of past immigration, even if the hotly debated Mexican border were to be shorn open completely, the resulting influx of immigration would be far less destructive to our culture than was our initial immigration to the Native population at the time. But let us not dwell on the past; this is about the present. History continues on by the day, and we must reckon ourselves to the fact that the machinations of the Western World are among the key forces driving the influx of aspiring immigrants around the world. If necessary, their concern for the laws of immigration will be no greater than we once showed.

And justly so. At present, all nations outside of the alleged ‘1st World’ are treated as low-cost production facilities, mining operations, or to put it flatly, as simple, legal sources of modern slave labour. This system produces the vast majority of luxury commodities we benefit from in our daily lives as those doing the building are left to linger in abject poverty.

Once again, Trump makes for a depressingly potent example. While decrying the potential dangers immigrants may bring, he rests high among the contributors to the need for such Freedom-bent exodus. Even as he stands at his pulpit and casts down his vitriol and hatred, he has operations going word wide paying slave-wages to potential immigrants desperate for a chance at something better (Link).

Trump isn’t an isolated example. The ‘Western World’ has a long history of supporting dictators they know will keep this system of indentured servitude in place, while reaping the benefits from the comfort of their own state-side villas.

Ignorance incarnate, this attitude is due for a rude awakening. It’s coming sooner than they think, and these entitled sycophants will shortly learn that you can’t piss in the pool, and then complain when people scramble onto the deck.

Like it or not, we are connected in this world (Link). For every ounce of unearned comfort we see, there are others who suffer a pound. To expect these benefits—at the cost of such despair—and yet expect to close the doors to any who seek only for themselves what we can barely appreciate is the height of arrogance.

If the current luxury we take for granted is to be preserved, it must be made available to all. One way or another (Link) people will find their happiness. If we find ours at the expense of others, we can only expect the same in turn. So let us invest rather in the future of all—for only by building a better world for all its inhabitants can we find justification in enjoying our own spoils.

-Brad OH Inc.

Project FearNaught- ‘We’re All Going to Die’

Sad but true—we are all going to die. The awareness of death is a distinct privilege for humans—our cerebral capacity allows us to foresee our inevitable endpoint in a way that no other animal can imagine. This ‘mortality salience’ is among the driving forces of humanity, and has been the genesis of countless stories and myths, as well as a key feature of almost all major religions.

The question always becomes: What happens when we die? It’s as if some certainty to this quandary might settle our nerves when the time comes—and well it may. However, the funny thing about death is that not many get the chance to report back. So, whether it’s pearly gates, Elysium fields, an endless void, or something entirely different, we are left to wonder.

Today however, we are going to take this issue head-on—providing a minimalist view of the afterlife which should be accessible to all, and act as an effective guidepost for personal moral accountability. This is not meant to be taken as a proof or even a strong belief, but rather a fundamental jumping off point: a basic answer, and a prompt for greater personal insight.

Whether you seek admittance into Heaven, Valhalla, or any other similar notion, what I want to provide for you today is a roadmap of behaviour guaranteed to get you there.

In order to do so, I will present you with five simple assumptions. Once these assumptions are accepted, I will outline a fundamental interpretation of the afterlife which will suffice to guide the action of any man, woman, or child seeking a positive post-mortem experience.

The 5 Assumptions are:                          

  1. We have a sense of right and wrong:

Specifically, the assumption is that we can feel good or bad about actions we have taken. For instance, if we think about betraying a friend, we may feel guilty. If we consider being there to help a loved one, we may feel proud or valued.

  1. Our experience of time is relative to our experience of pleasure/ pain:

This one sounds a bit more complex than it is. What I am seeking here is a basic recognition that when we have a good time, it seems to fly, and that when we suffer, time seems to drag.

  1. Death is the greatest displeasure:

As animals driven by animal instincts, our general inclination is to avoid death at all costs. Essentially, our own death is the worst thing to experience.

  1. When you die, your life flashes before your eyes:

It may be that none of you are as well-equipped as me to accept the truth of this one. It’s an old concept for sure, and one that I myself have recently experienced and will attest to in a roundabout sort of way.

  1. A number cannot be divided by zero:

This one may come as a twist, but in order to finish this concept, we need to agree on this basic mathematic principle—specifically regarding calculus and graphing.

Now, based on the five assumptions we just agreed on, we can imagine a very interesting and poignant thing happening the moment we die. First of all, as I’m sure you can surmise, you’re going to have your life flash before your eyes. On top of that, since we agreed that you have some semblance of morality, you are going to have certain feelings—some positive, some negative—about the way you have lived.

However, we’ve also agreed that our experience of time slows down as we experience more adverse situations, and further, that death is the worst thing to experience. Considering this in relation to our final fact, I ask that you imagine a graphic function for a moment.

For this graph, we will have the X-Axis represent our experience of pain. The lower the value, the more pain we experience.

The Y-Axis will represent our experience of time. The greater the value, the more relative time any given moment seems to take.

Since death is the worst possible experience, as the X-Axis approaches death (or a zero divisor), the value of the Y-Axis (our relative experience of time) grows exponentially greater without ever reaching said zero.

This is called an asymptote. The Y-Value will veer upwards towards infinity as the X-Value creeps closer to its natural dead-end. According to the precepts of our graph, what this means is that as we approach the moment of death, we find ourselves in a single moment experienced as an eternity.

So here we are, stuck in an eternal moment, looking back at our lives, and feeling good or bad about it—or some mixture of both.

This concept affords to us a vision of eternity which compels us to virtue, not to avoid punishment—which is no true virtue at all, merely coercion—but for the reward of decency itself. It is a functional clearing of the dogma and artifice which has grown over the reliefs of truth, and tasks us simply with being prepared to face ourselves and our actions not only on the day of our death, but each preceding day as well.

This to me is the most basic understanding needed to live a righteous life. The concept we should take away from it, simply put, is that we should take no action we would not be comfortable looking back on for eternity.

Share this, and use it each day. Think on your actions, and encourage others to do likewise. For Project: FearNaught to change the world, we must confront our virtues and vices head-on. That is the purpose here. The task may be daunting, but it can be accomplished…have no fear.

Be part of the debate:Project FearNaught is an effort to start the conversation that changes the world. As such, your voice is key to our ambition. To add your input, questions, or comments, click here.

-Jeremy Arthur

‘Truth Ink.’

Interview with ‘Edmonton: Unbound’ Author Annie Gionet

Edmonton: Unbound’ has now been on sale for six months, and has raised nearly $800 for the Edmonton Public Library.  ‘Edmonton: Unbound’ is available through Amazon, and can also be purchased at the giftshop of the Muttart Conservatory, as well as at Audrey’s Books.

Edmonton: Unbound’ contains fourteen stories by twelve members of the Edmonton Writers’ Group. They are unified only by the common theme of their current hometown, Edmonton, AB. Ranging from simple domestic interactions, to futuristic sci-fi adventures, to deep psychological introspections, these stories take a look at Edmonton from viewpoints as different as the writers themselves. This anthology is a love letter to our hometown, and demonstrates our incredibly varied approaches to literature, and to life.

As a gesture of our gratitude, all proceeds from the sales of this book have been donated to the Edmonton Public Library, which has been gracious enough to host our humble group at the Capilano branch for over a decade and a half.

Click the Image to buy ‘Edmonton: Unbound’

To celebrate the culmination of this fantastic project, we have one final interview with the ‘Edmonton: Unbound’ author, Annie Gionet.

1.Tell us about where your inspiration came from for the world you describe in your story.

Annie Gionet: The world Reya lives in was derived from Pagan communities that escaped the Spanish Inquisition and their witch hunts during the medieval times.   It is meant to be a fantastical alternative to our gruesome reality and history.

2.What was the creative process like for you working on this story?

Annie Gionet: Reya’s story was written by using a focal point of a refuge for esoterica and then expanding on it and letting my imagination take over. Choosing how to develop fantasy that is heavily derived from our world was an experience of the senses and imagination that brought my writing to make a place where anything was possible and unseen dangers lurked at every corner.  It is meant to draw your subconscious mind to a world that inspires your greatest wishes and leads you to your darkest fears.

3.Which authors inspired you to write fantasy and what interests you most about writing fantasy?

Annie Gionet: One of my favourite authors, that I admire would be Mercedes Lackey.

4.Why is Fantasy your favourite genre to write in?

Annie Gionet: I love writing fantasy because of the endless possibilities and inspiration. Your mind can create just about anything and moulding creative thoughts into a story that catches a reader by surprise is one of the most satisfying experiences I have ever had.  Connecting with an audience on such intimate feelings in mind twisting intricate situations is definitely, a great passion of mine.

Annie Gionet’s story, “People of the Doma”, is featured in ‘Edmonton: Unbound’, which you can purchase on Amazon.

Remember, you can also get a copy of ‘Edmonton: Unbound’ in the giftshop of the Muttart Conservatory, as well as at Audrey’s Books.

Our thanks to authors Brian Clark and Simon MacKintosh for their hard work in making this release more widely available.

-Brad OH Inc.