Thursday, July 23, 2009

Murdertown, Canada.

Abbotsford, the town I live in, has become the murder capital of Canada. Again. Meaning that his isn’t the first time. It was also the murder capital back in 2003. Furthermore, the town has a murderer named after it, “The Abbotsford Killer.” In all fairness, however, he was also a rapist.
The vast majority of murders committed here a a part of a drug war between two gangs called the Red Scorpions and the United Nations (no relation). The police are constantly trying to reassure the public that they are in no immediate danger, as these are targeted killings, but some of the people getting killed are just kids selling dime bags in school. They took two teenagers hostage out of a public park, drove them off and killed them and left their bodies in a car for police to find. And I thought I had it rough in high school. All I had to deal with was murder threats and savage beatings.
The Province chose to approach this tropic by interviewing someone from Abbotsford’s other group of undesirables: crotchety old geezers. The had a photo of one of the old farts who spend their days riding around on their rascals, but still have no clue how to drive. These are the ancient bastards backing up into you as you try to manoeuvre your shopping carts around them at the grocery store, then make you wait in line as they use pennies to pay for their discount cat food. What this this fine fellow have to say? Well, for one thing, he carries around a stick for beating on the young’un’s. Yes, a stick. It’s the perfect weapon. It’s wooden, and it’s sticky. You can use it to deflect bullets. In a town that’s supposedly the national capital for murder, you think you’d be able to pick someone with a more interesting story than fending off a mugging (allegedly). You know, someone who might have been a witness to one these murderers. I suspect, however, that these people are understandably too afraid to talk.
One error The Province printed: they quoted someone as saying it’s still a decent town. No. No it is not, sir. They closed down Popeye's Chicken. THEY CLOSED DOWN POPEYES CHICKEN. Remember the days when you could say, “At least I have chicken!” Those are gone. Abbotsford is a city with a hockey arena and no hockey team. They have an art gallery with no art. Millions have been invested in both projects. They flaunt the price tag. These missing necessities are all forthcoming, but that is a murky future. Meanwhile: property taxes are skyrocketing on houses no one wants, mainly for fear of being murdered. A gas tax is coming soon as well to pay for more crap.
The Province also cited how cheap it is to live in Abbotsford, compared to Vancouver, of course. We do not live like kings. Mainly because there are no jobs paying more than minimum wage. That’s why most kids turn to crime. It’s either that or get a job working in the prison, or becoming a cop. It’s a system that’ll keep feeding itself. I don’t foresee Abbotsford attracting much in the way of business with these conditions, although I see new office buildings going up. We’ve run out of place to build houses, so now we’re building condos. Condos no one buys.
Meanwhile, in the same paper, people are decrying the use of new identification systems in local bars and clubs. Some locations force you to have your Driver’s License scanned and your photo taken before entering the premises, in order to protect people from the kinds of violent crimes I just mentioned. Sure, it’s invasive, but then so is every aspect of our lives. We’re constantly under surveillance. My work has over forty security cameras. A computer logs every time I take the elevator down to the parking garage in my apartment. Castle Fun Park knows every game I play at their arcade. Any human being can discern every aspect of my person from my Facebook profile. We’re simply deluding ourselves into thinking we’re not inches away from having chips implanted in our necks. The only reason they haven’t is because they already have tracking chips in our cars, our cell phones, and even our pets. I personally have no problem with having my picture taken before going into a bar. We know crimes can take place there. They wouldn’t be called “bar fights” if they weren’t held in a bar. Plus this procedure should cut down on under aged drinking, so you don’t have to worry about that girl you picked up being jail bait. I do have a problem with someone having access to my address. This could actually lead to more crime. After all: they know I’m not home, and they now know where my home is. The bouncer is clearly on steroids, and his job probably doesn’t cover those expenses. All he’s got to do is call his buddy, and all my shit’s gone. As for misusing my personal information: that’s just a given. Every place you shop now, or website you frequent demands your phone number, e-mail address, etc. They buy and sell that information to other, less reputable businesses. There’s probably millionaires who do nothing but collect your data without your consent.
A judge has ruled the practice of collecting date in this manner illegal. Which means we’re more likely to be shot next time we go to eat. Hmm…
Why do I live here? Is it the entertainment value?
Want to hear some good things about Abbotsford? Mill Lake Park. Castle Fun Park. A convenient airport. The Abbotsford Air Show. Lou’s Bar and Grill. Fat Freddy’s Pizza. It’s a quick drive to Vancouver. That’s not enough to want to raise your family here, which I’m currently doing unsuccessfully. Meh.
Technorati Tags:

No comments: