Summit.

There are two very different voices about state ideals here, but it is not difficult to know on which end there is an active comradery. Endless hundreds of police officers in riot gear who box in both protesters and bystanders on public streets and detain them without explanation is not in the interest of what the Toronto mayor has described as that city's and this country's "democratic ideals." I am interested in the tone behind these people's show of national interests by singing their anthem and what that means for them--and what it means for the riot police who interrupt a peaceful protest, swinging their batons only once--or as soon as--their anthem has finished.

Someone I know pointed out something valuable. Two police cruisers parked across from one another on Queen West were torched yesterday, but only because they were entirely abandoned. Media caught video of people vandalizing and then setting fire to the cars, but there were no police officers in sight. The fact that this is what is constantly shown on television programs such as CP24's enables the legitimization of a 1.2 billion dollar security bill for the G20 summit, so the police cruisers were abandoned there purposefully, like bait. And public, designated protest zones, are squeezed out of the geography.

But the evidence is in the shoes.

Because they know but do not tell.

Here is that wiggling responsibility, then, and my following him around to watch him do bad things on the floor, or hop after our cat, or fall asleep on his back has been making me me wriggle out of my own. I have stacks of books sitting behind me and in front of me, and beach sand still stuck to my feet. I have to retrieve a few hundred dollars for rent and write a few papers, but I am buying brews and writing songs. Responsibility, along with its constant pluralizing, is a difficult gravity to stand under. But this guy swam for the first time, he chews on his leash, and I think he might like me a bit.