Rant ‘n’ Rave
Why I Hate Calgary and Wish it Destroyed
The first few lines of the preamble to the "Best of Calgary" form gave me pause. You seem to be proceeding under the assumption that "living in Calgary" is in fact a "great experience." I think that is one hell of an assumption to make, and it deserves to be challenged.
I despise this city. I moved here from the absurdity of small town Alberta three years ago at age 18, only to find myself jumping into the frying pan from the fire.
We live in one of the most financially prosperous cities in the nation. But the reality that we generally prefer to sweep under the carpet is that, for the most part, our prosperity is acquired by raping the planet. Brutally, unrepentantly and irreversibly. Speaking as someone who has spent his time in the blood-money-soaked trenches of the energy sector, I can tell you it ain't fuckin' pretty. Every yuppie eatery that turns a profit, every über mall that renovates and expands, every tile setter that finds himself with more work than he can possibly do, and every godforsaken "Irish Pub" that shoves alcoholic syrup in our faces, has to find a way to reconcile the fact that their success comes from fucking Ma Nature in the ass.
And did you ever notice how dumb people are in this city? It goes far deeper than just our collective inability to understand the concept of a merge lane. Go down to "The Ship" on any given night (or afternoon or morning) and look around. Do you really think any of these people have had an original thought in their lives? You've seen them, you're one of them. You with the capri pants or "Source" hoody, nattering about the latest "emo" band and dreaming of sexual conquest and Sport Utility Vehicle ownership. Stumbling drunkenly down to (let's face it) the most popular boozehole on 17th, "The Melrose" nets one even worse results. Be-khakied, blonde frosted, faux-macho, bartender/neworld economy drone Neanderthals angling their penises in the direction of the easiest fake ’n' bake bottle blonde genetic oddity/ surgical masterpieces all to the tune of the latest hits! And we haven't even approached that epistemological Pandora's box, the pre-eminent "Cowboys."
But of course, every city has it's requisite constituency of the bold, beautiful, narcissistic and idiotic. What makes Calgary worse? Well, to illustrate, let me tell you about an acquaintance of mine. He's an artist of some repute and success. A while back I made the mistake of inquiring as to his leanings politically as we had just been through a federal election. He said he voted for the Alliance Party. That's right folks, he cast his ballot for Stock and Co. with a clear conscience and an eye on the pay stub. In the conversation that ensued (our last), he made his case spouting passionately the revolutionary conservative line that every Westerner who refuses to give Canuck federal politics a microsecond of reflection always does. I threw up my hands and reflected that only in Calgary could one encounter a successful and prosperous cultural creator whose very existence and profession is so irreconcilably at odds with his politics.
This is, I think, what happens when the only major force in an urban centre is the private sector. Say what you will about Edmonton (and I would probably agree with you), but at least they have the influence of a quaternary industry (the enormous and venerable U of A and the provincial legislature) to lend some nuance and quality to the civic discourse. Witness Tooker Gomberg's always amusing and thought provoking mayoral crusades. In Calgary, it's only interesting if it makes money. Which means that nothing, and nobody, is ever very interesting. Combine this with the appalling geographic isolation and comparatively diminutive population and you have a recipe for a city that is anything but "World Class," Olympics or no.
Speaking of rednecks puts me in mind of Calgary's greatest claim to fame, The Stampede, a celebration of Calgary's Yee Haw heritage. Hooray for cowboys! Hooray for ridiculous western "fashions!" Hooray for ecologically unsustainable contemporary agricultural practices! Hooray for the reprehensibly draconian subjugation of cattle! Hooray for parochialism in all it's multifarious incarnations! Hooray for Hank and Patsy! Personally, I think Alberta's redneck history is something to be acknowledged, grudgingly, and with appropriate despondency and disgust – but celebrated? Shall we next throw a costume ball in honour of our clever and witty internment of the Japanese?
I swear sometimes it's all enough to make me want to quit my job, sell my belongings, light out for Montreal, get a job at a French-language-only café, dress all in black and read existentialist novels till I die. It might be a living cliché, but it's gotta beat Cowtown.
So then, I won't be filling out the "Best of Calgary" form. I will not participate in the mindless boosterism of a city that deserves none. Trying to find the best of Calgary is like trying to find the best restaurant in Antarctica. You just don't have enough material to work with. I do, however, have a suggestion for next year. Maybe Fast Forward could run a companion questionnaire: "The Worst of Calgary." Now there's a sociological exercise I could sink my teeth into. |
