it's a coup, a schoolyard coup.

Stevie is a bully. He’s the smartest guy from his neighbourhood and gets to run a pretty good racket with his buddies. His buddies aren’t allowed to speak much though, except for one of his dumber cousins, Stock. Stevie’s mom makes him take care of Stock.

Stéphane is smarter than Stevie, but he has glasses and as head geek, he is often made fun of, mostly by nasty viral videos that Stevie posts on the facebook. In private, Stevie likes to call Stéphane a fag. Stéphane doesn’t speak english all that well, which prevents him from getting in any good comebacks.

Jack is the guy trying to get laid. To impress the girls, he organizes rallies to free things like chickens from chicken farms, and Tibet from China. So far he has not gotten laid or freed anyone. He has collected many signatures and phone numbers... mostly from the girls.

Gilles is the goth kid. He doesn’t really give a shit about anyone at school. He’s from away and was home schooled by a set of hipster parents. He’s only hanging out at school to prove to himself, his parents, and anyone else that school is bullshit.

The geeks, jocks, goths and neo-hippies share the schoolyard. The problem is that everyone, minus Gilles, wants to be in charge.

Stevie is sort of in charge. As a bit of a big guy with a bit of a temper, he exerts a bit of authority. It worked fine enough the year before, and in the first weeks of class, it seemed everything was going to be the same. Stevie figured he’d get his way.

So one day, Stevie quietly tells his boys, except for Stock, that he’s got a plan that will bring the rest of the student body to their knees. He’s gonna shake down every student in the yard for all the lunch money they’ve got.

‘No one’s gonna complain’ he tells his crew, ‘cause the teachers are pretty much broke right now. They won’t care that the kids don’t have money for lunch. They don’t even have money for lunch.’

The reason the teachers were broke? The music room and theater had recently suffered fire damage. It was complicated, but somehow an overall reduction in payroll was the solution.

The teachers knew Stevie was involved somehow due to being vocally opposed to classes involving frivolous artsy activites. Faculty couldn’t prove anything and anyway, it was a matter best resolved by the schoolyard.

One Wednesday he sends his loudest buddy, Jimmy, to the top of the monkey bars. With his big, booming voice, Jimmy tells the schoolyard that no one is allowed to have lunch money anymore.

Stéphane’s mouth, as it was so often, was slack jawed in wonder. Could this really happen? He cleaned his glasses and looked over to see what Jack would do.

The crowd of girls around Jack’s card table suddenly parted. Jack quickly figured that no lunch money meant nobody buying his bake sale goods for the starving masses in far off places. It also meant fewer chicks.

Even Gilles suddenly raised an ever so cool eyebrow. Something deep within the cool was offended. Despite not wanting to even be in the school yard, he wasn’t going to have any lunch money revoked. No money meant no smokes. The goth crowd would not stand for it.

A quiet descended on the schoolyard.

Stevie’s smug smile changed to a frown. He had forgotten, until just now, that when alone, the goths, geeks and neo-hippies couldn’t possibly hurt him and his jocks.

But as he watched, Stéphane nodded slowly to Jack, and they started moving towards each other in a frighteningly determined fashion. For a moment Stéphane looked over at Gilles, perhaps remembering their time together in the younger grades, when times were simpler.

One could almost detect a faint smile pass across Gilles pale white face.

A panicked Stevie moved to the top of the monkey bars, looking down upon the student body and the teachers who had gathered by this time. Stevie knew he was forced to follow the schoolyard code. That called for matters to be resolved by his fellow students, or risk judgment from the faculty, which for some reason included the perverted janitor that lived in boiler room.

He tried to bully on, but now time was short. His lies trailed off to muttering, which trailed off into sobbing. His precious monkey bars, the pinnacle of the school yard, was about to become the property of Stéphane, the supposed wimp, and Jack, that sleazy hippy wannabe.

And that is just what happened.

Gilles holds still holds court over the back steps of the school. He spends a lot of time smirking and wondering why anyone at their age would actually want to hang out at the monkey bars.

Jack and Stéphane get along surprisingly well and even though Stéphane was planning to switch schools, well that’s not going to happen anymore. You see, Jack managed to get some action, due to actually doing something this last time instead of just yelling about doing something. Jack managed to get Kiley to french with Stéphane. Suddenly Stéphane is cool. Cool enough for Gilles to buy him a black coffee now and again.

Stevie still tried to bully. He often brings the whole affair up again, but people stopped listening to him so much. I heard the perverted janitor has been watching him pee though.

Canada... why so lazy?

I try to avoid preaching as it tends to bring out the worst qualities in humans. So I’m torn apart trying to chastise my fellow Canadians that refused to vote this week.

Here is the dilemma; we live in what folks like to call a ‘free’ or ‘democratic’ in which we have a chance to choose our overlords. We are lucky to have this option, but it is, in the end, an option. I must respect the right of those who refuse to put the effort of walking some blocks and use a pencil to put an X in one of several happy little circles.

I would like to believe that these people have come to this decision with some sort of intellectual process as in ‘I refuse to vote due to the fact that all options sicken me’ or ‘I am not well enough informed to make an adequate decision.’

That sort of sentiment I can get behind. I do love sticking it to the man and when the election was announced, I had a similar notion. Since moving to this Montréal home I have voted in several elections and each one leaves me feeling rather inconsequential.

However, as interviewers with the non-voting public show us, most people are just too lazy. Some seem more interested in the American election because it makes for better television. It certainly is the theater of the absurd.

We are Canadian though. We cannot vote for an American president and with 15 minutes of coverage on the Daily Show each evening, I think we can safely say we are as well informed as will matter to the average Canadian.

Other folk didn’t know about an election, which is frightening since so many found the time to turn election signs into what they ought to be; mockery of anyone foolish enough to run for public office.

I do enjoy the idea of the Bloc Québecois being run by KISS.

Good old Gilles seemed be the main target for pranksters. I think his pretty eyes disturbed some holligan. I'm not sure what the 'w' is about. It certainly takes away from the blacked out eyes.

Perhaps it is better that the stupid not vote.

It is embarrassing.

Only 59.1 percent of eligible voters bothered to vote. THE WORST EVER since 1867!!!

As if that wasn’t enough, my precious CBC had people calling in asking if the election could not be done online next time. Holy shit. We are a lazy bunch. There isn’t even any snow on the ground yet.

I won’t go on about thousands dying for our right to vote, mostly because I don’t believe that to be ultimately true at all. We don’t really live in a truly free country. No one does. We all have to live by rules that allow society to run somewhat smoothly. True freedom would infer that I could go and beat Mr. Harper with some sort of hard, blunt object because he needlessly ripped funding away from the very people who could help fund me and my little project. Jerk.

If we don’t bother to vote for people to make such rules, we will find a day when it will not be an option. We will then only be voting for our favorite dancer or singer or survivor.

We need this electoral process. We need our administrators to be scared of us at least once every few years. Otherwise we might finding ourselves having to protest. I’m warning you, lazy Canadians, protesting involves much more walking (sometimes running, fighting, getting arrested etc.) never mind all the extra dull reading involved.

Seriously, get off your ass next time this comes up. You did pay for it after all.