Compromises Part 1

Never mistake a Motel for a Hotel. That’s what I did today, and now I’m paying for it. The wallpaper is peeling, the air smells of Clorox, and there’s no bucket for the ice machine; just a spare garbage bag the front desk girl gave me.

On the plus side, though, I saved some time after my jog; during my shower the shampoo and conditioner came in the same packet.

But despite all of this, I’m not feeling that bad, because today I escaped the City. For one thing, that means I was able to get a smoking hotel room, but more importantly it means that I’m not in Edmonton anymore.

The big cities are always bad, there’s no denying it; something about them drives the citizens to a meddlesome sort of fussiness. For whatever reason they seem to be hell bent on regulating any situation they can dream up. This happens wherever the population figure has hit six digits, but Edmonton’s a steep grade worse than the others; not only does it suffer from the same legislation frenzy, it’s also a government town. The ‘don’t blame me, blame society’ attitude has penetrated so deep that you can’t even order a cup of coffee without having to send it back half the time.

The latest craze to hit that burg is a new proposed ban on sidewalk signs – the folding-types that store owners will put out front to advertise what they have on sale. According to the Mayor, who’s been voicing off on talk-radio about it, this issue is the number one complaint letter his office receives.

Let’s check that again: complaints about signage are the biggest problem plaguing the Provincial Capitol. I’m not even sure how to react to that.

Do you know why you don’t get this kind of crap in small towns? Because when neighbour A does something to upset neighbour B, B just walks over and asks him to stop – and on the rare occasion that A doesn’t, they call up the local Patrician C; he sorts out who’s in the wrong, tells them how it is, and one of them goes off grumbling. End of story.

There’s no reason this wouldn’t work in the cities.

Let’s say you’re walking down the street, when you see some poor kid dressed up in a hotdog suit, handing out flyers. It’s tacky, degrading, and would be more than enough to ruin my morning. So why not go up to that kid’s boss and give him a piece of your mind? Tell him what you think of it and, that you’re not going to shop there anymore, and that his lineage consists of nothing but meth-heads and Sociology professors. Don’t physically threaten the guy, because he’s well within his rights to conduct his affairs this way if he chooses – but you’re equally within you’re rights to call him a sheep-shagger who eats mayonnaise sandwiches.

Now I’m the type of guy who tries to stand by his beliefs, but I understand that a lot of you don’t like confronting people over every little thing. I’d like to see more of you stand up, but I don’t really blame you for calling me a jackass when I do. But here’s the rub – if I’m a jackass for going over and mouthing off to the shop owner, what does that make you when you go behind his back and conscript a politician to fight your battle for you? I’m just making noises at him. You’re going out and enlisting a bunch of thugs who will tell him what to do with his private property, or else face an escalating series of penalties which eventually culminate in lethal force.

I’m just being a jerk. Your fear of confrontation is turning you into something a lot worse.

I really don’t know what else to say about this folding-sign ban. It’s like they’re trying to turn the whole world into a gated community… there’s no logic in it, there’s just cowardice and spite.

But I know some University-fed jerk out there is going to be defending it, so I’ve got to keep going. They’ll say that I’m oversimplifying things, and that what it’s all about is compromise. Society works because of compromise. We’re all freer because of compromise.

Well, yeah; 2+2=4. I agree with that. But, see, the problem is that I have three apples, and you have 9 Miles per Gallon. Get your context straight, dickhead.

The idea that a certain number of laws result in a net increase of freedom is a basic premise of our political system. The argument goes that when murder is made illegal, some of your freedom is taken away, but at the same time you no longer live in a state of anarchy; ergo, you’re now freer. Another example would be saying that by having a court system which enforces contractual agreements we have greater financial freedom than we would under rampant fraud, despite each being bound by these laws ourselves.

On a simplistic level this premise is spot on; it’s extremely useful for teaching civics in the first place, and can be used as a functional theory in most situations. But when you try and raise a pragmatic economic argument to the position of first principle… then it’s not just wrong, it’s downright poisonous.

To be continued.