ROB FORD IS A MAN OF FAITH

Rob Ford is a man of faith. He believes in himself absolutely. He unreservedly believes that he is meant to be Mayor and that he is unimpeachable by virtue of being Rob Ford, and that his agenda and solutions for Toronto are indispensable. So committed is he to this faith that a compromise, a leave of absence to seek help is deemed by him to be a surrender. Not his occasional drug taking or dishonesty but his unqualified faith is dehumanizing him and corrupting him.

For all our sakes we wish to bestow power upon the wise. Sadly, all of us, including the wise, share a potential for corruptibility. Bestow power on a person and you create a true test of character. History and experience inform us that power attracts the corruptible. Invariably, power in human hands will be liable to abuse. We can never assume that power and wisdom are synonymous. These are truths we are relearning as we watch Rob Ford's world unravel. I hope he receives help willingly and survives as a father and husband but not as a Mayor.

THE SURREY SIX TRIAL - ATTENTION TO THE INNOCENTS

A CTV Image of Mohan and Schellenberg

THE SURREY SIX TRIAL

The murder trial begins today, six years after the crime. Six years is a long time to wait. It’s a long time for the families of two innocent men to wait for justice to prevail within our system of law. The case is popularized as the Surrey Six because six victims were found dead in an apartment suite. Four of the victims, Edward Narong, 22, Corey Lal, 21, his brother Michael Lal, 26, and Ryan Bartolomeo, 19 were the intended targets in a drug related turf war. Christopher Mohan was 22-year-old student who lived nearby and 55 year old Ed Shellenberg was doing routine furnace work in the building. They were in the wrong place when evil went down.

OHHH! DEREK MUST LONG TO HOLD AYN AGAIN

I am a grandfather of five, three boys and two girls. The oldest girl is eleven and her two brothers are nine and seven. Their cousins are a boy soon to be seven, and a girl who is four. The four year old comes to our home twice each week so her mom can go to work for those days. I hug each child when we see one another. They permit me to do that, and they seem to enjoy the caress of attentive love. That littlest one, four years old is at a rewarding stage for me. She loves to be cuddled. She curls on my lap and snuggles. We look into one another’s eyes and call each other outlandish funny names. We play eye spy with my little eye. We paint, we read, we watch cartoons. And she may sit for hours on the floor with a doll house and a castle of plastic and little synthetic people and carry on true to life conversations, until she says something out of character like, “just get on with it.” To which I have said, “Did you just say “Get on with it” and she has replied, “No she did,” her finger pointing to one of the little people.

Ayn at play

Derek must long to wrap his arms around his girl, to see her eyes, and the soft smile on her lips, to hear her laugh, to hear the sound of her voice.” He must miss the touch of her skin. The physical longing for his own daughter of the same substance as himself must at times be unbearable.