tis the season of the mousketeers

question of the day: why does Mr PG now have a blue face, and do we like it ?
(more on this guy later. . . )

tis the season of the mousketeers . . . not the cute little types who hang around Disneyland and the like, but rather the rough-shod lot careening down Highways 16, 97 and the multitudes of logging roads that cut up the landscape for miles & miles around Prince George at average speed of 200 km/ hour in Chevy, Dodge, GMC or Ford F400 trucks or whatever truck they can get their hands on really. These are the hunters of the north, moose and deer racks roped to either side of the truck cab roof like 2 mouse ears silhouetted against the northern horizon. OK seriously, I have nothing against hunters. In fact I have heard it said (and don't disagree) that hunting is a cornerstone of the 100 mile diet (or 200 mile diet as the need may be) of this part of the world & certainly the meat is probably much more "organic" than any of the antibiotic hormone filled stuff at the average supermarket these days.

I think a freezer full of moose steaks is probably a very comforting thing indeed for the protein-diet dependent ones among us. . . and I too have been known to partake in a piece of moose on the odd occasion

BUT what I do have a problem with is hunting that would include taking, taking, taking from the forests in a disrespectful, entitled and wasteful way. What I do have a problem with is the kind of hunting that involves sitting in one of the large aforementioned pick up trucks on the side of a road and guzzling copious amounts of beer and chucking the cans out onto the ground while waiting for a poor old innocent moose or deer to be unlucky (or foolish? or suicidal?) enough to come walking out across the logging road from one side of the bush to the other. Not to go on too much of a rant about this but I have heard mention of dudes driving their 4x4 pick-ups through such gorgeous local rivers as the (still somewhat) salmon-bearing Torpy and taking pot shots at the passing salmon (Dunster documentary Journey Home of the Chinook Salmon by Leon Lorenz contains more information about this issue). Hello!

And I am not even talking about the bear hunt. . . yet.

Back in town, a good line-up of some cultural events this week - think I will start the week with Vancouver poet Marguerite Pigeon's reading from her book of poetry Inventory tomorrow evening at CNC (7pm, Room 1-306) - thanks to Graham & Rob for the info about the event. Her poems are studies of the subjective significance of the objects that surround us. . . "the unique way that objects appear in an individual consciousness. Each object in this Inventory exists on its own and also reflects the author’s experience, from the mundane stapler and tea bag, to the mysterious, extinct dodo bird, to entities that blur the line between person and thing. In this way, the collection highlights the often hidden dimensions of the objects we encounter, including their temporal, political, locational and psychic aspects."

I am definitely in the mood for some reflections on the cultural & philosophical significance of the paperclip. . . OK, a stapler will do.

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The above post is not about the hunters who are ethical & respectful of the environment & who hunt to feed their families. . . I know there are many in northern BC, and I am not talking about these folks. . . but I believe it is important to speak out about this other more exploitative form of hunting which I have witnessed directly during my years of living in northern BC. . .