The Ramblings and Wanderings

Posts Tagged ‘ethics’

I owe you guys a post! Its been a while since I wrote some long, rambling, scattered rant so here ya go:

In my opinion the universe (or should I say multiverse) is just to dammed big and complicated for statements like “there is no such thing as luck”

It’s a great big multiverse and we’re all really puny, we’re just tiny little specks … its big and black and inky and we’re all really dinky. It’s a BIG multiverse and we’re not.

Perhaps it’s the pluralists or shamanic practitioner in me, but I cannot conceive of a multiverse where luck, coincidence, fate, destiny, force of will, personal responsibility, social responsibility, divine presence, divine will and a million other factors do not exist all at once. The black and white thinking where we see all or nothing, or one or the other just doesn’t make sense to my mind. I believe in fate and luck, I believe in personal power and responsibility and all the other things all together. I believe there are factors involved in the operation of the worlds (deliberate plural worlds there) and more forces at work than we could ever be fully aware of at any given moment or even over the course of one single century long lifetime.

I am uncomfortable with blanket statements such as “there is no fate” or “there is no luck” the human mortal mind is just too simple and too small to fully comprehend the wizard behind the curtain. We can barely perceive that there is a curtain.

I do believe that we create our own reality, not in the sense of the Secret, but in the sense that we are responsible for how we choose to perceive things and deal with them.

I agree that we are often more responsible for the things that happen to us than we often think we are, or can see as it is happen to us.

However I refuse to believe that only we are responsible for the goings on in our lives. That we cause these things by being “closed or “open” or through thought or visualization… or even through our actions and words. I will agree that often these things are a factor, even a major factor. But I cannot accept that they are the only cause.

I refuse to accept any claim that we cause everything that happens in our lives to happen.

I will not believe that any child being raped has brought about her abuse upon herself in any way shape or form. No child is personally responsible for being raped. As an adult that child will be responsible for her own healing, yes, but never should that child ever be considered responsible for what was done to her.

When people claim that it’s all a matter of personal responsibility they do so without thought for the child being molested. They do so without thought for the woman helplessly watching her son be executed by a guerrilla militia, they do so without thought for the people swept away in a tsunami.

To make such a blanket, black and white statement as everything is a matter of choice and personal responsibility makes as much sense in my mind as to say that the people in Haiti really DID cause the earthquake to happen to them by practicing Voodoo. It relies on a similar kind of logic.

The multiverse does not fit into boxes. It cares nothing for our definitions or attempts at explaining its myriad of processes. The forces of the worlds, both seen and unseen cannot be understood, let alone articulated by your or I. We cannot even begin to comprehend them.

Therefore I wholeheartedly reject all blanket statements such as “there is no such thing as luck”

It’s easy to say things like “everything is a matter of personal responsibility” and “there’s no such thing as luck” when sitting in an air conditioned home in one of the safest neighbourhoods in North America. Try farming…try simple living, try living in such a way that something as fickle and unpredictable as a hail storm can mean the difference of having enough food to eat and enough money to support you through winter.

Oil is not blood

It is million year old Sunlight

Captured by the Earth

In liquid form

The good green things

Drink up the light

Photosynthesize

Die and decay

Buried and pressed

Digested by the land

And transformed over eons

Into liquid Sunlight

We with our opposable thumbs

Dig deep and greedily

Hungry and careless

Thirsty and addicted

Spoiled gluttons, never satisfied

Always wanting more

Like sociopathic children

We tear into our Mother’s body

Rip and rend

Slice and cut

We plunge long hungry hands

Through ocean-life-blood

Push greedy fingers into the soil

And suck out the liquid Sunlight

Buried within

With noisy machines

And without empathy

We penetrate and violate

We force our way in

We rape our own Mother

Remove the Sunlight within

To fuel our sick and twisted desires

To fuel our fires

To feed our noisy machines

To heat our homes

To make our lives easy

Because we are spoiled and greedy

To make this liquid Sunlight

Fuel our fires

We must pump toxic fumes

Into the Sky and the Air we breathe

The Oxygen we share with other living things

Which damages the thin layer called ozone

That protects us from the Sunlight

There are other ways

To fuel our fires

But we are too lazy, spoiled and greedy

To turn to them

And to learn new habits

Because we are addicts

Blinded by greed

The need to be comfortable

And the fear of change

We will keep digging deep

Until all the liquid Sunlight

Is gone

Burned up

Used up

No more

And then we will tear ourselves apart

Just wait and see

Links:

Wild Hunt Blog

Dr. Brendan Myer’s website

The statement thus far:

Part 1

(Short version for print distribution.)

We are here –

– A circle of spiritual people from many traditions, groves, hearths, and circles. We are young and old, from many walks of life, and many parts of the world. We are Pagans of the modern era, Druids, Heathens, Wiccans, Witches, Shamans, practitioners of magical lore, and many more paths besides these. We walk the paths of the sacred Earth, in the footsteps of the Goddesses and Gods of the Land, the Sea, the Sky, and the Tribe.

2. We have learned of recent incidents of sexual exploitation and abuse perpetrated by individuals claiming to be religious teachers, some of whom claimed to be members of our community. In response to these incidents, we have crafted this statement.

3. We hereby categorically reject, disavow, oppose, and repudiate any and all coerced, nonconsensual, harmful or exploitative sexual acts, especially when claimed to be part of our ways and traditions. We identify all such acts as sexual abuse, and we refuse to tolerate them in our community.

4. Many of us believe the human body is profoundly sacred. Many of us believe that the presence of the Divine dwells within in the body. We therefore find that human sexuality, and acts of love and pleasure between consenting, informed, and mature people, have great religious significance. We affirm the goodness of human sexuality, and the goodness of celebrating sexual identity.

5. Because of these beliefs, we also find that coerced, nonconsensual, harmful or exploitative sexual acts are extraordinary affronts to the Divine presence which dwells within every human body. These acts grievously harm the victim, and inflict deep wounds upon the sense of bodily identity which all of us hold so dear.

6. A sexual predator who exploits the relationship of trust that exists between teacher and seeker harms the whole religious community, and undermines the good work of the honourable teachers in our midst. Similarly, acts of sexual abuse between seekers in the same circle, whether one party is a teacher or not, also harm the whole community.

7. An accusation of sexual exploitation is a very serious matter. The accusation alone, even in the absence of evidence, can damage the reputation and the self esteem of good people. We therefore find that a false or vindictive accusation of sexual misconduct is but another form of sexual abuse.

8. Yet we also recognize that real sexual abuse victims experience deep feelings of guilt and shame, and that they often struggle to admit that they have been abused. Their condition should not be made worse by a predisposition to doubt the validity of their claims. Nor should they be automatically counter-accused of having a vindictive intention, or of lying. We hold that anyone alleging sexual abuse should always be treated with compassion as a primary response, and that claims of sexual abuse should be handled with intelligence and concern for all.

9. We voluntarily commit ourselves to this declaration, and we encourage others to commit themselves to it, whatever their path.

Part 2

(for internet distribution, which includes part 1 as well as the following discussion.)

1. Our movement has many principles of moral thought, not just one singular monolithic principle. As there are many gods in the world, so there are many models of the good and worthwhile life for humankind. Some of us practice Heroic Virtue, others Classical virtue, others a Utilitarian principle such as the Wiccan Rede. There are also many among us who find that ethical principles are revealed through the intuition of a Divine presence that dwells within the human heart and mind. This presence unites us with the Earth, with each other, and with the cosmos.

2. Among our many traditions, groves, hearths, circles, and communities, there are broad areas of moral agreement. For the purpose of this statement, we (the authors and the undersigned) wish to emphasize the matter of sexual abuse. We agree to the broad and general principle that the human body is a sacred temple, a work of art, and a good home for the self and the soul. Many of us believe that the body is the dwelling-place of the Divine, and the seat of a deeply integrated web of relations which ultimately includes the whole of life on Earth. The human body is thus among the first of all things that deserve our care and respect. On this principle, the differences between our various circles tend to be only a matter of emphasis. Indeed, on this principle, we may share some moral agreement with the dominant religious traditions of our dominant culture: the view that the body is made in the image of the Divine.

3. In our circles, the sacredness of the body, as a religious truth, leads to positive conclusions about human sexuality. Our view is that sexuality, sexual identity, sexual expression, and acts of love and pleasure, between consenting, informed, and mature people, have great religious significance. Indeed such acts can take on the significance of ritual. We hold that our sexual identities are worthy of celebration. And for many of us, an occasion of shared sexual pleasure and lovemaking is a most spiritually meaningful event: a communion with the Divine which dwells within ourselves and within each other.

4. Indeed, there are some traditions in which a sexual act is performed as part of some rituals, such as higher-level initiations. Various names designate these rituals: Heiros Gamos, the Great Marriage, or the Great Rite, to name a few. In most cases, the Great Marriage is performed “in token”: for instance, a priest touches the tip of a wand or a blade to the bottom of a chalice held by a priestess. This is an ancient gesture, with precedents in the ancient cultures of the Greeks, the Romans, the Hindus, and other great civilizations of the distant past.

5. Naturally, given our perspective on the sacredness of the body, our view is that all coerced, nonconsensual, harmful or exploitative sexual acts, are seriously morally wrong. We find that sexual exploitation and violence are particularly worse than other forms of criminality, such as property offences, because sexual offences invade the body. Sexual abuse ignores the sacredness of the body, and ignores the privacy, the dignity, and the freedom of the victim to use and delight in his or her own body. It is an extraordinary affront to the Divine presence which dwells within every human body and which animates the body with goodness. It severely harms the victim, and degrades the dignity of both victim and offender. Sexual abuse also inflicts deep wounds upon the precious sense of bodily identity which all of us hold so dear. No exceptions or relativist interpretations can alter the basic moral wrongness of sexual exploitation and violence. We identify all such acts as sexual abuse, and we refuse to tolerate them in our community.

6. Thus in our contemporary circles, the rite of the Great Marriage, if it is not performed in token,  is held privately and by invitation only. The participants come in full knowledge of what they have been invited to. If there are any initiatory “surprises”, they are never intended to violate the sacredness of the seeker’s body. Ideally, the invitees already know, love, and trust one another. They have already given their informed consent, and retain the right to withdraw from the event without prejudice at any time. When we mix sexuality with religion, there is no space for deception or coercion. Religious sexuality is always consensual and never obligatory. No one should enter a circle with eyes covered when sexuality, sexual identity, and the sanctity of his or her own body is put to a test. This remains true even when the ritual participants are not strangers to each other. Initiatory surprises, tests, and ordeals are intended to help a seeker find the sacred within him or her self. If they threaten or invade that self, then the initiators are harming, and not helping, the seeker.

7. If someone finds a private group’s practices uncomfortable, he or she is always free to find another group to join. It is wrong to hold someone back from spiritual progress or knowledge for refusing to participate in a sexual act. We are always right to doubt the sincerity, honour, and spirituality of someone who claims that a sexual act is a mandatory requirement for initiation, or for any kind of relationship with the gods, goddesses, or deities.

8. An accusation of sexual exploitation is a very serious matter. The accusation alone, even in the absence of evidence, can damage the reputation and the self esteem of good people. We therefore find that a false or vindictive accusation of sexual misconduct is another form of sexual abuse.

9. Yet we also recognize that real sexual abuse victims experience deep feelings of guilt and shame, and that they often struggle to admit that they have been abused. Their condition should not be made worse by a predisposition doubt the validity of their claims. Nor should they be automatically counter-accused of having a vindictive intention, or of lying. We hold that anyone alleging sexual abuse should always be treated with compassion as a primary response, and that claims of sexual abuse should be handled with intelligence and concern for all.

10. It is clear that one need not be a spiritual person to recognize the wrongness of sexual abuse. Yet we are especially outraged when the perpetrator is a leader or a teacher in a religious community. In our circles, religious teachers are held in high esteem. A seeker who approaches a teacher in search of spiritual guidance and comfort offers a special kind of trust to the teacher. Teachers and seekers often open their hearts and minds to each other, and thus they becomes very vulnerable. It is for this reason many of our traditions require teachers to possess not only great knowledge, but also great integrity and honour. It is also for this reason that sexual predators will pose as religious teacher: in that way, they may find more victims for their gratification. There are also some teachers who, exploiting the trust given them, become sexual predators as well.

11. Furthermore, a person who uses this relationship of trust to exploit people thus harms the whole social environment in which teaching and seeking take place. For the sexual predator’s harm touches more than just the victim. It affects all the victim’s friends, family members, fellow seekers in the same circle, colleagues at work, and anyone to whom the victim may turn for help. The harm of sexual abuse thus affects numerous other people who the predator may not know, nor ever meet. Moreover, sexual abuse also casts suspicion and doubt on the intentions of the honourable teachers in our midst, undermining the good work that they do.

12. Finally a sexual predator can sometimes exploit the relations of trust that grow between fellow seekers in the same tradition, hearth, or circle, even when he or she does not pose as a teacher. This kind of exploitation also harms the whole community. In all cases, we maintain our condemnation of unwanted sexual acts.

Therefore –

We, the authors and signatories of this statement, commit ourselves to:

• Demonstrate by example a fully moral sexual spirituality;

• Vigorously entreat others to agree to the principles of this statement;

• Handle all accusations of sexual exploitation and misconduct with intelligence and compassion, for victims of real sexual harm, and for victims of false or vindictive accusations;

• Cooperate with the police when an incident of sexual abuse in our circles is under investigation;

• Help bring comfort, medical assistance, legal aid, and spiritual healing, to victims, as far as ability and opportunity may allow; and

• Help seekers find groups, circles, traditions, or individual teachers, whose practice involves as much or as little sexuality as the seeker feels comfortable exploring.

We voluntarily commit ourselves to this declaration, and we encourage others to commit themselves to it, whatever their path.

We remain, respectfully,

A community of Pagans.

1) I often have to drag my large, heavy and awkward work gear onto the bus. Whenever the bus is being driven by a man, he “kneels” or lowers the bus to make it easier for me to board and disembark.

Female bus drivers never do this, not ever. Even if I ask them too the response is something along the lines of “Oh you’re fine” or “You’re a strong girl, you can do it” in a rather annoyed or even disgusted tone of voice.

2) Sometimes I drop my large, heavy and awkward work gear. Sometimes I wipe out on my bike. Sometimes I struggle to drag something like my work gear or my bike up steep staircases.

I never ask for help, but if another person is around they will usually respond to my “distress”.

Almost always a man or boy will stop to help me. Women however never help me and will tell me “You’re a strong girl, you can do it” if they acknowledge my presence at all. Actually often they are annoyed that I am taking up space on the sidewalk or taking too long to get up the stairs, I guess they are in a hurry eh?

And they say chivalry is dead.

Stuff like this makes me wonder if I am a bad feminist for wanting or accepting, assistance.

It also makes me wonder why women do not help each other more. Do we feel we have to prove that we are strong girls and can do it? Do we feel the need to force other women to prove they are strong girls too?

3) A fellow whose blog I read related a story of how a few days ago he was walking home from the store. Feeling quite happy and somewhat childlike that day, he hopped, skipped and danced most of his way home. He jumped over a planter or two, and even did a cartwheel.

This fellow is a large and muscular young man, who was wearing shorts and had taken his shirt off as the weather was warm.

After accidentally knocking over a planter that he had jumped over, he was stopped by the police who demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing? His attempts at explaining that he was just having some fun were not enough for the police. He was handcuffed and driven home by the police who told him he needed to cool off, as his behaviour (skipping and jumping) was erratic and potentially dangerous.

I like to hop, skip and jump. I often hop onto park benches, jump over planters on the sidewalk and balance along the edge of retaining walls. I like to do cartwheels. I have accidentally knocked over planters. However, I would never be handcuffed and brought home by the police for such behaviour, for I am a small and cute young woman.

4) The other day I dragged my work gear onto the bus. I had a large and awkward slab of plastic (that unfolds into a table) and my wheel-about full of heavy objects. Along one side of the front of the bus were Moms and their children’s strollers.

Sitting in the courtesy or compassion seats on the other side of the front of the bus were two men. A young man and middle aged man. The courtesy seats are for disabled people, people with strollers and people with large and awkward objects. There are signs all over the place stating as such and telling more able bodied riders to give up these seats if need be. The rest of the bus was about half full.

It was obvious that getting past the strollers with my work gear was going to be very difficult. It was also obvious that I counted as someone who needed the courtesy seating.

I caught the eye of the young man, who was closest to me and asked him if I could please steal his seat? He looked away and pretended he could not hear me.

The middle aged man was looking right at me, so I asked him if I could please have his seat, as I am burdened with heavy objects and don’t want to bash the strollers by accident. He unfocused his eyes and looked right through me, saying nothing.

“Alright then” I said, “If you are going to pretend I don’t exist, I will just have to run over your feet!”

So I did, making sure to press down on their toes with my wheel-about and bashing their shins with it was well as I went past. The young man tried to pretend nothing was happening, perhaps concerned about being “cool”. The middle aged man looked quite shocked and tried to get his sandalled feet out the way … but failed. Neither said anything as I did my best to leave them with some nice bruises for the rest of the day.

Once past them I looked up and glared menacingly at the other passengers on the bus. One man quickly gave up his window seat to me and sat beside someone else. I thanked him kindly.

The men on the bus looked shocked and surprised and a little bit scared of me. I guess being a strong girl is a little bit frightening to some men still.

The women on the bus were all hiding smiles, a few even made eye contact and openly grinned at me. “You go girl!” their smiles said. I guess so long as I prove I’m a strong girl who can do it, I’ll be getting those smiles.

I am a bad feminist, downright lousy in fact. I might even be viewed as a traitor to my own sex (if you’re militant enough to see it that way)

I’ll tell you why.

I like men more than women. I prefer the company of men over the company of people of my own sex. I trust men more than women.

Can you imagine that? I know, I know, how terrible is that?

There are many reasons, feelings and experiences that cause me to be a lousy feminist. Please allow me to explain in my own rambling way.

I suppose the main reason is that unlike most of other women I’ve met, I have been neglected, mistreated and abused much more by other women than by men. Even when I have been neglected, abused and mistreated by men, often there was a woman involved.

Punch for punch, insult for insult, hair pull for hair pull women take up a significantly higher amount of the pain brought upon me by others than men.

As a child and teen I was mercilessly bullied by the other girls at school. Both physically and verbally, as well as just emotionally jerked around. I’ll spare you the details, (why rehash all that?) but suffice to say that every day at school was a nightmare of humiliation and abuse at the hands of my peers. I was ugly, stupid, scattered brained, had thrift store clothes, poor parents, frizzy hair, pimples, spoke funny, big glasses, either too skinny or too fat, a bitch, a whore, a prude … you name it. I can count on one hand the number of girls who I could call friends during the whole of my school years. And many of them abandoned me in an attempt to gain more popularity.

The boys on the other hand couldn’t care less about such things. Even long before boys start to get interested in you in “that way” my friends were always boys. I spent much of my childhood climbing trees or sitting on the playground equipment, practicing my spitting and swearing techniques.

The boys didn’t call me names, they didn’t push me into the mud, they didn’t throw things at me, they didn’t pull my hair, they didn’t pretend to like me one day and hate me the next, they didn’t spread lies about me. They didn’t try to flip up my skirt either.

In fact, they treated me like an equal; I was just one of the boys. Even in high school, when I wished more of them would see me in a different light, I was juts one of guys. They encouraged me to climb higher, spit further, hit harder and run faster. They taught me how to hit a bully in the nose and make her cry and cheered when I did it.

With two brothers, many uncles, and more than one Dad (step-fathers) I grew up in boy-culture. I went to the tomboy academy of learning. I can confidently change the radiator hose in a pick up truck, but can’t tell the difference between pillow cases and pillow shams, even when they are placed under my nose by an annoyed and frustrated woman. I can take a hard fall off my mountain bike and keep on trucking but can’t interpret the message behind another woman’s hair flip and eye roll.

I flatly refused to wear a skirt or dress until I was 14 years old. I had no desire to identify myself with my abusers. I liked being a girl, I just FUCKING HATED other girls and I rejected the expectations put on me by other females to be “properly female”. The men and boys in my life rarely ever told me that I should do or not do something because I was female, they did however try to teach me the proper way to toss a football. They also forgave me for never perfecting the technique.

Now don’t think for a second that I have unrealistic romantic notions about the males of the species.

Amongst my earliest memories is the image of my 6 foot tall father hitting my petite mother so hard that he broke her glasses and sent them flying across the room to land at my 4.5 year old feet. He then stormed down to the basement. My Mom grabbed her purse, my bay brother and I and we snuck out of the house. We hid at a local car dealership waiting for my grandmother to come and get us, watching my Dad’s car drive up and down the hi-way looking for us.

I learned before I could write a complete sentence what a violent man can do to a woman.

I also remember how Mom went back to him, bringing us with her, for a few months more anyways.

Mom’s second husband (common-law anyway) used to smack me now and then, he also was bipolar (undiagnosed until he made a suicide attempt when I was twelve) and his behaviour was strange and erratic. He would stand over my bed at night and watch me as I pretended to sleep. He was a substitute teacher and would force me to stay up late, often all night, re-doing my homework again and again. I grew to hate the nightmare that was school even more as a result.

Mom had her own issues and while I understand many of the reasons why she stayed with this man, and why she often took her own hurts and fear out on me, I will not excuse them either.

The day he finally laid a hand on my brother (the favoured son who always got straight “A”s) she finally threw him out. But the verbal abuse and the hair pulling from her did not stop until I grew larger than she was.

The women in my family failed to protect me, they were even amongst my abusers. The other girls at school were my tormenters, while the female teachers looked the other way or were at a loss as what they should do about it.

In adulthood I have struggled to make and keep female friends. I often do not have the same interests, goals and lifestyle. I don’t socialize “properly”. I miss the crucial subtle social cues that are such an integral part of female communication. I am too blunt, straight forward and open. Women are complicated, they are emotional, they are demanding, they are judgmental and impossible to please. I rarely receive their approval, let alone their acceptance.

I like men more than women. I prefer the company of men over the company of people of my own sex. I trust men more than women.

I know where I stand with men. With other women I feel like I am walking into a potential trap.

Men are like big dogs, they raise their hackles, they give you a warning growl, and they might nip once before they bite (usually). Women are like little dogs, the attack comes from behind, unexpectedly (usually). A big dog might be able to bite harder but the pain of a little dogs’ bite is much sharper and the wariness you learn from it lasts longer.

I don’t turn my back to little dogs.

As such, I am a lousy feminist.

I know how to not tolerate mistreatment from men; I learned it from the men in my life. The ones who taught me to fight, to climb trees, to spit and swear, to fall down and get back up again, to walk for miles on a sprained ankle, to not cry at the sight of blood.

I watch other women struggle to stand up to a man and I struggle to wrap my head around it. Perhaps because I have yet to fully forgive my mother for staying with and going back to men who hurt us.

I don’t need feminism, the goddess, or other women to tell me I am equal to men. It was men who taught me that as a child.

It’s the women in my life who have never treated me like an equal, not the men.

I have gone to women’s rituals and been pulled aside, given heck for showing up in a motorcycle jacket and combat boots. How dare I show up with such masculine energy?

I have gone to women’s circles in a floral print dress and make up, and been told that in order to a respected, a woman much not be pretty, thin, attractive and wear bras or make up.

I have seen feminists who venerate the Mother Goddess turn around and attack another woman for choosing to be a housewife and stay-at-home-mother.

I have seen Dianic Wiccans call themselves warrior women, and then be grossed out when I rub dust into my hands so I can better grip the handle of a fighting stick.

I have seen women get into arguments over whether or not it’s properly feminist to wear a mini skirt.

I have seen women treat each other poorly over something as stupid as whether or not other women’s towels hanging on the rack in the bathroom match each other.

I have been looked at like there is something wrong with me for having a patron god, rather than a matron goddess.

Men describe my personality as strong; they call me things like “an unstoppable force” and say so with respect. Women call me arrogant, a bitch and intimidating for the same traits, they pick on me for it.

I am not a very good feminist because I can’t figure out what the hell other women want from me?

I’m starting to wonder if feminists know what it is they want and if they know how to achieve it?

I am a bad feminist, downright lousy in fact. I don’t mean to be, that’s just what they call me.

I’d love to have more female friends, to gain that acceptance and love.

I’d love to show other women, those who are more timid and such, how to strap steel on their spine and face the world with head held high.

I’d love to see women focus less on bringing each other down, focus less on how all men are horrible evil abusing pigs, and work on learning how to get along.

(Note this is the first part of a series, I promise to get more positive towards my fellow women as I go!)

(My Internet connection is still wonky at times. I’m having a harder time with some sites than others.)

I live in a socialized country yep yep.

I pay for my health care in little bits, here and there, over my life time in my taxes.

Yes, if I smoked I’d be paying $10.75 a pack of cigarettes because they are a great way to tax people, and yes, I pay a %7 tax in all goods and services.

But if I got cancer I wouldn’t get one large, or several large bills to pay. If I need an ambulance, I don’t have to worry about how I’m going to pay for it, its already paid!

Yes it means certain liberties might be less. For example, I have to wear a bike helmet (bike or motorbike etc) because if I got a head injury, I’d be a drain on the public health care system. But having to wear a bike helmet is a fair trade for being able to afford to keep a roof over my head if I get sick. It’s worth it if I get to live in a country where even the poorest people get health care, where my glasses and basic dental needs are subsidized.

Yes, we trade some Liberties for others in the Great White North.

We have Freedom of Expression, but there are anti-hate speech laws.

I could walk down the streets of Toronto with no shirt on, boobs hanging out, covered in green jell-o, with blue hair, waving a rainbow gay pride flag, smoking a Cuban cigar, singing Wiccan chants all day and be well within my rights.

BUT if I then turned to a black person and called him a “nigger” I’d be arrested and slapped with a substantial fine.

A fine that will cover the hospital bill of some random child with leukemia.

Sounds pretty terrible doesn’t it?

I live in a socialized country yep yep.

I’m not a slave to my state.

Big government is only dangerous when you’re dumb enough to let people like George W run it.