Thursday, July 17, 2014

suicide is ALWAYS a conscious decision. take a step back away from your self-important worldview and ask yourself: is your perception of somebody else's life more valuable than the person that owns it?

whether the attempt is through overdosing on pills, cutting wrists or anything else, i would consider STOPPING a suicide attempt to be a FUNDAMENTAL INFRINGEMENT OF INDIVIDUAL RIGHTS, and anybody that gets in between somebody and their INHERENT RIGHT to kill themselves should be kicked in the forehead, tarred and feathered and forced to walk through the city with a sign that says "I PREVENTED SOMEBODY FROM CARRYING THROUGH WITH THEIR RIGHT TO DIE.".

if you see somebody trying to die, you should not interfere. life is not sacred. god does not exist. you are in control. don't deify the state in response. deify yourself.
well, that was indeed a kafkaesque mess but i got my expedited border clearance. hey, all those years of avoiding a criminal record came in handy. i'm squeaky clean. i get to use the special line...

but, that doesn't mean this wasn't a pain in the ass. i've ranted about this here quite a bit over the last year. it's only fitting that the last section of it was off the wall ridiculous...

getting across the actual border was not a problem. i just showed them my letter, and he let me through. but, he chuckled and wished me luck. he knew what was coming...

the walk up fort street at around 7 am was purposefully brisk; i was admittedly a little uncomfortable. but, the more i walked, the more it just reminded me of montreal. yes: detroit is full of decaying bridges, falling apart buildings, abandoned industrial centres, smoldering sewers and people sleeping on the street. but, i didn't feel threatened so much as i felt a level of empathy. how'd it get that bad, anyways?

the other thing that made me relax a little was a friendly retriever that ran over across a field to say good morning. it's funny how goldens are basically the universal stress reliever.

it was about twenty minutes to the bridge, which is a short walk for me.

once i got there, though, i wasn't sure how to proceed. i tried going under the bridge first. this is the first point that the smog got to me: i nearly heaved, and had to sit down. first attempt at directions was a hotel that looked like something out of a stephen king movie...

"do you know if i can get in some kind of plaza around the bridge?"
"no."
"does that pay phone work?"
*laughs* "no."
"do you know if there's a phone around here?"
"there's no gas stations for a good ways in either direction."
"well, thanks, then."

so, i went back under the bridge again...

there was a side street running along the complex (and it was a complex. it looked like a prison.) that i decided to take a walk up, and it took me into a nicer street full of very old churches and quaint, if dilapidated houses. three houses in a row had angry, barking, unchained rottweilers that could have easily hopped their four foot tall enclosures should they have decided to. it's a problem in windsor, too. cheaper than a security system, i guess.

and apparently very necessary.

i bumped into a border cop on his way to work and flagged him down...

"how do i get in here?"
"do you have a car?"
"no."
"well, why do you want to get into here?"
"i have a nexus interview."
"why do you want a nexus card if you don't have a car?"
"so i can get across the border. i'm from canada..."
"you're from canada? how did you get across the border?"
"the tunnel."
"and how did you get here?"
"i walked."

*awkward pause*

"well, you can't get in here without a car. you're going to have to call a cab."

ok, so here's the thing: i can see the enrollment centre through the fence. it's a few hundred yards, at most. and, yet i need to call a cab to transport me those few hundred yards? yes, i do: this is what the cop is trying to tell me. but, i'm not about to call a cab, so i keep walking.

eventually, i get to a cross street with a big sign

MICHIGAN WELCOME CENTER* --->

*note yankee spelling.

well, that sounds like a good thing to try.

hours:
9 am - 4 pm

it's like 7:30...

so, i look up the road and notice it runs into customs. i'm thinking "maybe there's a phone in there". customer service is closed, and there's no barriers so i just keep walking, until a border cop yells at me:

"WOAH. WOAH. YOU CAN'T BE IN HERE. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?"

well, i'm looking for a phone. is there one in that building?

"PLEASE STEP TO THE SIDE AND EMPTY YOUR POCKETS."

ok.

so, i pull out some pieces of paper, keys, a few dollars...

"who do you want to phone?"
"i'm trying to get in contact with the nexus office."
"how did you get in here?"
"i just walked in. there's no barriers or anything."
"do you have a car?"
"no."
"why do you want a nexus card if you don't have a car?"
"well, i'm from canada and..."
"you're from canada? how did you get across the border without a car?"
"i took the tunnel."
"what? how did you get here?"
"i walked"

*awkward pause*

another officer walks over....

"this person just strolled in here, can you believe that."
"where are you going?"
"i'm looking for nexus."
"do you have a car?"
"no."
"why do you want a nexus card if you don't have a car?"

i laughed out loud at this point.

"because i'm from canada and..."
"wait. how did you get across the border?"
"i took the tunnel."
"and they let you in without documents?"
"well, i have this nexus document. i'm here for a defined purpose."
"pfft. anybody could print that off. do you have any drugs on you?"
"what? no..."
"yeah. right. step into the office, please"

so, i walk into the office...

he takes my id and starts running it through the system, asks me all kinds of absurd questions, accuses me repeatedly of living in collingwood and having a record of escaping the custody of an officer, visibly shatters a blood vessel in his forehead when i provide "jessica" as an alternate name and eventually gives up.

"go back to the michigan welcome center and call a cab from there."

again with the cab. they were really serious about this.

i did walk back to the welcome center, but i was planning on calling the enrollment centre, not the cab. it's now barely 8:00, so i have an hour to wait, and wait an hour i did.

the cop drives by about 8:30...

"listen, i knew this was going to be a problem, but i'm pretty sure the person i initially talked to said they'd give me a lift. the thing is i think they meant from canada, and i couldn't get a hold of anybody to provide instructions, so here i am."

he seems to have softened up a bit, after realizing i'm both harmless and frustrated. the absurdity of the situation actually seems to have become clear to him. but...

"i'd drive you down there myself, but then i have to pat you down, which means i need a female officer present and there aren't any."
"i can't waive that?"

(i don't care what gender my doctor is, and i don't care what gender the cop patting me down is)

"no. plus, i'd have to do all kinds of paperwork, and i just don't want to."

ah, yes. a lazy cop. gee, whudda thunk that possible, huh?

"but, i'll call you a cab if you want."

there's no irony in any of this.

i refuse the offer, and suggest i'll call the place when the welcome center opens.

this is where i got a break, and i have to say it's every bit as surreal as the rest of this. the place opens at 9:00, i use the bathroom, and then ask if there's a pay phone...

there isn't, but he offers the office phone, depending on who i'm calling.

i'm calling nexus, because i'm on foot and need to find out how i'm going to get in there.

apparently, this kind fellow has been working at the michigan welcome center for years and years, and given out instructions on how to get into the nexus office hundreds of times, but has never been in there himself. he's been wondering the whole time if his directions are even accurate, and he wants to know what it looks like inside the complex.

so, he offers to drive me in.

and i graciously accept.

he takes me back along the side street i came in at, past the entrance the first border cop went in, back under the bridge and around through a gated area. i am now finally at the nexus enrollment area. i thank the kind fellow and that is that.

but, the border guards are concerned about how i'm going to exit the complex.

"i guess i'll call a cab."

nobody else got the sarcasm. i was actually planning on asking somebody for a lift to the other side of the fence.

so, the interview goes well. the interviewer was a little older, and i seemed to convince him i'm a good kid. which is what i needed to do.

i got the marijuana question, i was honest, and he overlooked it. they can be very strict about that. but, the thing should get here in 7-10 days.

at the end of it, he asks me if i have a phone. i don't carry a phone. so, he picks up the phone and starts dialing the number for a cab for me...

"listen. if you call me a cab, i'm just going to ask that they drop me on the other side of the fence and walk back to the tunnel. so, why don't you just let me ask somebody for a lift out?"

and, finally, i got some fucking logic from somebody.

"no. we'll just escort you out."

a few minutes later, a truck pulls up with a border cop in it.

"are you here to escort me out?"
"yes."

so, i reach for the door....

"no. i'm not driving you. you're going to walk."

at first, he tries to lead me to the exit to the ambassador bridge.

"canada is that way, but where's your car?"
"i don't have a car."
"why do you want a nexus card if you don't have a car?"

i was on the brink of being a smartass, but managed to restrain myself.

"so i can get across under the tunnel. i just need to get to fort street."
"well, how are you going to get over the bridge?"
"no, i want to walk to the tunnel."
"walk...to...the....tunnel?"

at this point, i understand that every single one of the awkward pauses was shock that i'd walk that far. remarkable.

"yeah."
"well, follow the truck around the building and meet me at the crossing."

i did this, and we walked to the gate that first border cop went through. then i was out the side street and back up fort towards the tunnel...

without having to call a cab.

this is your tax dollars at work protecting you from terrorism.
so, i took a google tour up fort street, which is where i'm headed this morning.

it's pretty run down, but it's an industrial area so i'm not really walking through the 'hood. and there's only been one shooting in the vicinity this year.

there's been two on my block in windsor. yeah. well, it's perspective.

i'll be fine...

i'll point out i *am* wearing $5 shoes and a stained white tshirt.

it's less about wanting to keep the shoes and more about not projecting wealth.

not that i have any wealth, of course. but shit is relative.

uploading the time machine to the scratchpad

and, now i'm mulling if i want guitars at all in the end part...

i think i want one. maybe two. probably not three, unless it comes out at me.

this is consequently close to a final mix.

http://googledrive.com/host/0B5JfVE9XTZikMS1zek9ER0xSU1E/scratchpad/