Tuesday 26 July 2016

Sex in the Refinery

Even amidst the lowest prices in decades, Canadian oil has managed to reach a new low. It plummeted to a total depth further than their illustrious drilling machines can penetrate when an advocacy group attempting to persuade whomever they can to choose national oil instead of overseas supplies ran an ad campaign featuring 'hot lesbians' online yesterday. "In Canada lesbians are considered hot and in Saudi Arabia if you're lesbian you die!" reads an ad poster by the Canada Oil Sands Community Facebook group. Besides the fact that lesbians have about as much to do with the importing of oil as a derrick to a double-ended dildo (except that the plastic to make the dildo was probably petroleum based), the bottom of the ad still urges readers to "Choose Equality! Choose Canadian Oil!" It got me thinking just now far some people will stretch in advertising to try and make a point of sale, no matter how weak.

The message's ludicrousness is clear when you break it down: a western nation is touting its social and cultural mores as better than those of the East by pitching that oil from our country will be used to slather lesbian mud wrestling arenas, where Saudi oil will come into our fuel refineries wearing burkas and citing monogamy and boring values to one's family. The premise is about as ridiculous as the attempt to use same-sex to sell oil but hey, why not give it a shot, right? Advertising is just like the act of sex itself, you never know who or what you may attract until you put yourself out there. If you get rejected for acting without discretion- like this bad ad has with backlash and commentary lambasting--you just dust yourself off and carry on to the next piece of ad. In citing lesbianism and equality, however, the ad is not calling attention to Canada's acceptance of the LGBTQ community, priding itself on the progressiveness of government to recognize their rights to choose whom they want to love and marry, and instead employs a played-out notion that 'hot lesbians' are exhibitionists and act for entertainment and sexual attention. It also cries: "Why are we getting our oil from countries that don't think lesbians are hot?!", thus imploring a gross simplicity to as complex a reality as oil export and import. I don't know why we're still importing oil while Canadian barrels are being stacked on top of one another but reaching into the bag and pulling out this embarrassing stop under the guise of equality has about as much effectiveness in advertising as a commercial for spray-on crabs.

The advocacy group is listed as being in Fort McMurray where the oil sands production in Canada is at its largest. It's clear from messages like this one that Fort Mac is feeling good and is on the rebound from the wild fires that ravaged that town back in May. An ad like this one however, is sure to keep the internet flames alit.


Monday 25 July 2016

On Writing

The things I have to go through just to write anymore. The internet is a foul thing and its blog platforms are no exception. I have started and quit three different blog sites because first off they are mostly horrible and secondly they are ugly. The writing world has gone strange. The internet has made it so. Everything has a clinical feel to it anymore. Whether it's just the beast itself- this computer machine with no heart- or the fact that one has to read through it, it's become harder to connect to much outside of straight, deliver-the-facts journalism.

I don't know what's happening in Calgary-the city in which I currently reside. It's stifling here for a writer and for anyone unemployed for that matter. The economy is bad and the news tells us it's only getting worse. But the unemployment rate isn't as high as it was when oil tanked in the 80's, so there is some hope. Ah, hope! That glimmering wind ornament in the distance, the one with the tricolours and the circles inside other circles so it looks like a kaleidoscope taken out of its cylinder. I've never been one to put much stock in hope but I do have a wind chime because,well, they sound nice. So it's time to write about writing and just how the hell I am supposed to do it in this age. It is what I have to do- along with whatever job will hire me on the side. There is no other option. It's this or death. If I'm not writing my world turns to hate and I am all-consumed. At first I thought it was something I ate, some sort of malice- infested slice of something causing my internal organs to bubble up in a stomach acid-induced frenzy for the world and all it had done to me. But then I realized it was simply because I wasn't writing enough.
 All other organs are linked to the brain of a writer: the heart, the pancreas, the liver, the spleen; and they shut down and turn against each another if you stop writing. Jesus. What now? This is my fate. This is cruel. But at some point you have to accept who you are and what you're here for and like Mark Twain said: "The two most important days in your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why." Alas, the time one could save if they were one in the same.