I've always been a reader.
Got my start reading the funnies in the Guelph Daily Mercury in the late fifties.
Eventually got to the two Pauls, de Man and Feyerabend. I especially liked Feyerabend.
In the popular rendering of working class folks, we're a bunch of semi-literate yobs. There's an element of truth to that.
But there's always been a strong community of readers among us.
Like Johnny, who managed to get through most of the Globe and Mail crossword puzzle every day for thirty years. At work.
Or Andy, the pipefitter at Irving's shipyard in Saint John who happened to hold a degree in German Literature.
Or Dudley, who worked the pipe-bender at Kearney National during the week and partied with Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster on the weekend.
I'm still reading. Mostly I read stuff on my laptop these days, but I still indulge the luxury of the printed page from time to time. Like when the internet goes down.
Which is why I happened to pick up a copy of The New Yorker this evening and read about the legacy of the Sackler family. That legacy includes hundreds of thousands of opiod OD deaths and hundreds of millions in philanthropic gifts.
The two are intimately related.
That's the second time in a month I've read a mainstream take-down of the Sacklers.
And the mainstream has been busier than I could ever have imagined dismantling the legacy of Weinstein and his myriad fellow travellers.
Who ever imagined such a thing?
A New Yorker critique of US foreign policy?
A NYT disavowal of capitalism?
A WaPo editorial slamming the occupation of the West Bank?
We are on the cusp of great changes.
Hold on to your hat... and keep reading.