"They have litter boxes for people who think they're cats and dogs."
--Kid in remedial class, nearby rural school.
"I looked it up. Something like, one out of every three girls up at Western has a sugar daddy.* You can't find a wife in Canada."
--Incel Guy.
"You [the Ukraine] should have ended it three years – you should have never started it, you could have made a deal."
--Donald Trump, claiming that the Ukraine started its war with Russia.
So I went to a pro-Ukraine rally and met an incel.
Okay, that's not quite true. Our only exchange was brief. But I'm getting ahead of the story.
We've always lived in reality bubbles that stretch far beyond the intrinsic limitations of our senses and cognitive processes. Tribal cultures of yore knew the facts related to survival, but their lore was a set of traditions and beliefs that might differ radically from those held by the people on the other side of the hill. Often, that lore served or was twisted to serve those who held power. Frequently, it had very little verifiable connection to reality. I'm simplifying the complexity of humanity's past, but, bear with me.
In much of my life, the mainstream had, it seems to me, reality bubbles in the form of ideological filters. A great many people could agree on facts, but their interpretation of what those facts meant varied greatly. I'm simplifying here, as well-- the fringes of some very strange bubbles have never been very far away.
Three years ago on this day, Russia invaded the Ukraine. Fact. Your interpretation of the war might be at odds with mine. You might hold a number of views about what should or should not be done about this war. You may be one of those people who will note other conflicts in the world and wonder if they shouldn't be receiving at least as much attention. And yes, you might identify several factors that precede the invasion, which are relevant to the war and not wholly Russia's fault. But if you believe that Ukraine started the war, you are failing at reality.
"Mr President, Ukraine did not 'start' this war. Russia launched an unprovoked and brutal invasion claiming hundreds of thousands of lives. The Road to Peace must be built on the Truth."
--Mike Pence, on X.
"If Russia stops fighting, the war ends. If Ukraine stops fighting, Ukraine ends."
--popular slogan, pro-Ukraine rallies.
The rally marking the third year of the war took place on Saturday afternoon in the park. I joined the crowd early on, before its numbers swelled. Ukrainians and people of Ukrainian ancestry comprised the majority. We have a provincial election later this week and a federal one later this year; local elected officials and candidates also arrived in full force. They delivered some of the speeches. We also had speeches in both English and Ukrainian. People like me had to judge the latter from the crowd responses. We heard a prayer from an Orthodox priest-- when introducing him, one of the organizers noted how profoundly the Christian faith has shaped their country. We had the singing of national anthems: Canada's and Ukraine's.
Nobody booed either.
The need to stand by allies was stressed-- how far we should go was a point the politicians carefully skirted. Vladimir Putin was excoriated, and Donald Trump, villified for his recent statements that parroted Putin talking points. We also had a bit of a giggle, soft smirks waving quietly through the crowd, at one local rep whose pronunciation of "Putin" sounded too much like "poutine." Yeah, damn those cheese curds melted by hot gravy on fries.
Someone arrived late. By then, I had moved farther back in the crowd. My role was simply to be a face in the crowd, another body to be numbered. I had dressed warmly for my walk but misjudged the calibre of gloves that I would need. My hands were growing cold from standing there and I planned to leave as soon as the speeches ended.
He was perhaps in his early forties. He was looking to find Terence Kernaghan, one of the local reps in the Ontario parliament, a member of the NDP. He explained, to nobody in particular, that Terence's office had called him to encourage him to be at the rally. He was on their call list because he'd done some grunt work for them before, pamphlet distribution, I think. "Where's that orange hat?" he asked. "They said he'd be here."
I confirmed that he was there, though neither he nor his trademark orange toque were visible through the thick crowd. "He spoke near the beginning."
While the speeches continued, our man struck up a conversation or, more properly, a monologue, with the man behind me. It quickly turned to his fruitless search for a wife. "I have a good job and a house with a pool. You can't find a wife in Canada, though." Was he terminally clueless? Just so lost in his own issues that the rally held no meaning? Did he think this guy could set him up with a Ukrainian refugee wife?
I did what writers do; I eavesdropped. Our man went through several incel talking points, the promiscuity of women in the west, the number of coeds he believed had sugar daddies, and so forth. His reluctant listener occasionally muttered something.
"Well, Russia. I've heard that you're in trouble if you talk about the Bible in Russia." Apparenty, his sources for Russian life stopped at the Cold War.
"No," the man explained. He made some reference to Putin's unholy alliance with the Russian Orthodox Church, in particular. "Separate issue."
"Intellectuals in America a century ago imagined and admired a Soviet Union that never existed-- a country of equality, of development, of arts and freedom. Now the American right wing once again imagines a Russia that doesn't exist in the real world, a place that is conservative, upholds family values and liberty."
--Konstantin Sonin
"To sell the show, we created the narrative that Trump was a super-successful businessman who lived like royalty. That was the conceit of the show. At the very least, it was a substantial exaggeration; at worst, it created a false narrative by making him seem more successful than he was."
--John D. Miller
I moved away from them shortly before the final speech ended. People were encouraged to spread out on the sidewalk along Richmond Street with their signs, flags, and banners. I headed home, wondering again what kind of world would be left behind when I closed my eyes for the final time.
**A survey conducted in 2020 indicated about 700 of more than 20,000+ female students at the U admitted to being sugarbabies. That's fewer than 4%, rather a smaller percentage than "one-third." Though it is a fair number of sugarbabies.