this time tomorrow germany could be the world champion in men's basketball. let that sink in.....

LITTLE EXAMPLES I've never thought much of flags as a symbol. When I was growing up, we never flew one, and Canada Day was just about the only time I saw them in some proliferation. But now and then, they seem to pop up everywhere. Sure, you can account for a few as just your typical patriotism on the rise – but everyone knows what it means when they appear in their hundreds out of season. Someone's gone and decided that their current cause is the most nationalist one in the country, and as such, the very act of flying the flag makes a statement for them. Rather than putting in the work to design a flag of their own, they simply co-opt the nearest at hand, and decry all those who disagree as a weaker kind of Canadian. Patriotism is something with more meanings than the flag-wavers would like to suggest. As an encompassing term for the love of a land, it can't be easily extracted out of any political, social, religious, or ethnic category. All it references is living within a certain set of borders, and having a love for what they contain. Flags are only the most shallow reflection of that. So when I see a crowd of protestors flying the maple leaf high with their banners, or some cute little examples affixed to a truck rolling by, I roll my eyes. It's not an emblem of their homeland appreciation in that application, it's an exclusionary measure. Everyone who sees them knows what they stand for, and are reminded that thinking differently implies they're less patriotic. It's easy to start pretending that we want to bring people together, but we keep going in for more hard-headedness and less understanding. We all hate to argue eventually, no matter how good that first shot feels to choke down. I often find myself at the crossroads of many ways of thinking. Since I'm not someone directly engaged in discussing any of the current hot-bottom issues, and my identity isn't formed around anything divisive – I know that a wide range of people are reading my thoughts. It's a chance to remind everyone equally that we speak best for ourselves. Not in quotations or causes, not borrowing what someone else says or specifying a signal meant for mass appeal. We change minds by telling tales, and listening to stories. That's all that's ever shifted my heart from the hole it gets stuck in. January 31, 2024 Ogilvie, Nova Scotia Year 17, Day 5925 of my daily journal.