
Today is one of those odd ones where during a week of  eclectic news items, you have to pause (and not necessarily reflect), but just  kind of go “Huh?”
Before I get into the weirdness, I should point out that the  alternate Editor’s Blog (with formal C.V. samples) at www.mondomark.com is back, and functioning  much better than, well, last year.  Still MIA are blogs from late April-early June, but that’ll be settled shortly.  The site still needs a few tweaks, but the main thing is it works, which means the RSS feed for  KQEK.com is back online, too.
More important, though, is a problem that I never managed to  fix. The server swap was to enable upgrading to more recent versions of Word  Press, and to see if this thing called timthumb.php would work. It’s a ‘simple’  script that places thumbnail images of posts on the main page and category  indexes, and thanks to some tweaks done by the server’s tech team, it finally works. I still hate the thing for being  so frustrating, but I just want to express an open thanks to the tech support  at ehosting.ca, because they solved the  problem – something DumBell would never do for their customers.
I was actually one of maybe a few people who didn’t feel the  Earthquake yesterday (which some have dubbed the Toronto Earthquake, which is  dumb, seeing that serious damage occurred north of T.O. and the Gatineau region).
During the ‘quake I was either still having lunch with a  friend at Mother’s Dumplings (really  yummy food), or we were walking along Spadina, pausing once at  an intersection so I could see the LCBO where one can now buy Aalborg, the  delicious Danish Akvavit in Ontario after something like a ten-year absence.  (Demand for the amber drink was allegedly so low that either the LCBO stopped  carrying it, or the booze maker gave up.)
In any event, I felt not a quiver, which makes me wonder if  the combination of dumplings (a minimum of 13 per person were consumed),  smashed cucumber salad, and spring onion pancake aids in absorbing quake  shocks. Maybe it’s an inner ear thing, where excessive consumption of carb-rich  dough matter fills the ear’s main balancing device, the tinnoitium, with a  thicker fluid that presents an illusion of vertical stability, so one is never  aware that the earth is vibrating or tilting. 
Someone should study this in deeper detail.
The only time I felt a quake was some years ago. One night I  was half-awoken by the ringing of glass (specifically the water glasses on the  night table) and the bed being rocked back and forth by what I thought were either  angry miniature children, mischievous mice, or Pazuzu (him). 
Turns out it was a quake, but it felt like an Exorcist moment (which actually wasn’t  my first. Years before that incident, my dad and I travelled to family friends  living in Hammonton,  New Jersey – ‘the blueberry capital of the  world’ – and their house happened to be situated on an old aquifer. Turned out  it had gone dry, but because the delivery trucks used the main road to reach  major highways, the corner bedroom shook whenever an 18-wheeler roared over the  empty chamber under the street).
Moving on.
June marks the first month where the Toronto  Underground Cinema is open for regular business, and the old Carlton Cinema  is set to open next week, on June  30th, after a refurbishment by new owners Magic Lantern. Though  the Carlton is nothing like the grand palace that sat at the corner until the  seventies, the 9-screen cinema (formerly run by Cineplex Odeon) has been  refitted with better seats and sound, and should please local film fans tired  of making the long trek down to the city’s ugliest intersection, Young &  Dundas, to see films in the AMC megaplex (where it’s apparently amazingly easy to sneak into films  because of the complex’ size and lack of vigilance).
The movie theatres may in fact enjoy steady business as the  lakeshore is being transformed into an island of concrete, barbed wire, and a  massive law enforcement presence. Most of the local media are having some  obvious fun reporting on the absurdities that have manifested as the $1 billion  thing – the G8, and more specifically, the G20 – are coming up fast.
The Toronto Star cites the woes of local businesses set to lose money due to closures. Some merchants have  planned their own lock-up because locals and tourists aren’t shopping, and the  security measures are so disruptive that some businesses near the outer  concrete condom feel the loss of cash is better than dealing with security  checks, and being potentially close to anarchistic loons wanting to smash a few  store windows. 
The National Post ran a great graphic of the condom’s expansiveness  (dubbed “Fortress  Toronto”), which in photos taken by outraged and amused citizens looks as grim as a snapshot of West  Berlin during the Cold War years, and just as ridiculous. (The best of the  latter involve GG, the ‘mousy’ G20 reporter, and Mr. T Bear, the city’s most  intrepid reporter.)
Torontoist’s latest tally  of ruinous feats includes the massive CycleCop presence that surrounded a  particularly belligerent  j-walker (who was asking for it, really, by goading patio diners to chant  of “F--k you” to the police); harassed photographers wanting some digital  postcards of the condom; and I.D. cards that say “Ontairo.” 
If you’ve time, read this blogTO  piece, and then scan down and read every comment, because it’s peppered with sometimes hysterically funny opinions,  including more serious admissions of ‘fortress’ passersby with similarly  bungled I.D.'s. Best comments: Ontario + Cairo = Ontairo, and a discussion with a  commentator named “kaka.”
If the $1 billion expenditure ends up wrangling a lot of  nasty, belligerent exhibitionists and middling threats, then Harper will be  vindicated for wasting the city’s time and money for an event that can’t  possibly bring in the favourable international media attention and accolades  and tourism he and his henchmen have been touting for months. If it fails,  there’s at least another major outrage (after proroguing parliament) that’ll stain  his polyester persona. 
At then end of it, though, it’ll be dryly amusing to see how  the local and provincial leaders will create their own spin: Mayor Miller will  struggle to find some proof of tourist presence in T.O. when reports seem to  infer a number are avoiding the city next week (the VIA trains that ferry  people through the busy Toronto-Montreal corridor aren’t even stopping at  T.O.’s train hub, Union Station); and Premier McGinty will try and walk some  impossibly fine line in criticizing the disruption without actually doing  anything stern in the face of Teflon Harper.
In reading several posts and articles this past week, one  does notice a number of nicknames that writers and interviewees have proscribed  to the city of Toronto. 
If you’re visiting people out of country, one sometimes  actually says To-ron-to, but locally it’s Tronno, because that’s just the way  it is. We also use the abbreviation T.O., not because we feel we’re a province  unto ourselves, but because it’s easy. Some also write the code YYZ, because  that’s the code on your luggage tag that reads “this dude or dudette is from  Tronno.’
One name that I’ve only heard lately – and I’ve been living  in this dopey city since birth – is The Big Smoke. (We called in the army to  shovel snow; we have low water pressure and  we live beside a lake; and for 25 years no one knows what to do about the  Gardiner Expressway except dream up divisive schemes that never go beyond pretty pictures. We’re dopey. It's a factoid.)
The city has many nicknames, but perhaps this picture and  prose explain The Big Smoke origin. The ever-accurate Wikipedia (ahem) has  a few other names, including Hogtown, which I’ve always liked because ‘city of  pigs’ has healthy mental grounding affect whenever the city thinks its ‘World  Class’ (a term likely stemming from MegaCity Mel in his Melnoidal prime) and  ‘the most ethnically diverse city on the planet’ (a phrase invented by publicists  with no basis in hard head-counting, gene-sampling fact).
We do have Mother’s Dumplings, however, and the fact you can  buy kalonji (black  onion seed), Costoluto  Genovese tomatoes, Malaysian and Berbere spice mixes, eat Japanese black  sesame ice cream, and finally get Aalborg locally  is frankly awesome. 
Besides, our skyline is quite beautiful, with the CN Towner  complimented by the SkyDome that the province sold for a dime in times of  desperation to Rogers, the negative-billing pioneer who transformed the fire  sale purchase of the massively over-budgeted stadium into the Rogers Centre,  and purchased rival company Fido and, according to original subscribers,  wrecked it.
Ahem.
 
Mark R. Hasan,  Editor
 KQEK.com