I'm pretty sure a case structured like this would meet with greater resistance in the States. "We" are touchier about religion per se.
I've never been to Canada (I don't count five minutes in Windsor) and have no feel for the place, but I do have friends from there and they have seemingly more humanity than Americans.
Perhaps the justice system will reflect this when the court has reconvened.
TerryWalstrom
JoinedPosts by TerryWalstrom
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57
Highwood Congregation of Jehovah's Witnesses v. Randy Wall
by TerryWalstrom inhttp://www.scc-csc.ca/case-dossier/info/webcastview-webdiffusionvue-eng.aspx?cas=37273&id=2017%2f2017-11-02--37273&date=2017-11-02.
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TerryWalstrom
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5
Edgar's (the local crow) Last Chance
by TerryWalstrom inedgar’s last chance.
have you ever seen a starbucks patio at night?
the bright, cold moon washes the empty tables, chairs, and concrete with a silver glow.
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TerryWalstrom
EDGAR’S LAST CHANCE
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Have you ever seen a Starbucks patio at night?
The bright, cold moon washes the empty tables, chairs, and concrete with a silver glow.
A still southern breeze sweeps the ghosts of old stories into shadows (and by stories I mean CROW stories.) But some CROW stories, like the crows themselves, just won't go away.
...
A certain corner of a certain table where a certain Crow is known to cavort, echoes with stories more hideous than the nightmares of POE himself!
This is such a story!
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He thinks I don’t catch him poking his sinister face from behind that bush over there.
Oh, I’m onto his tricks.
Not all of them, of course. He’s too changeable in his criminality to fall into a groove of habits easily detected.
Truth be told, he’s on to my tricks as well. My habits are more figure-out-able. For instance, somehow or other (spy network) he knows I bought cashews at the corner store. This is unbearably exciting for Edgar. He also knows I love to tease him with the prospect of eating them all myself while he watches!
This will not stand.
The game is this. His job is to distract me.
IF...
I temporarily drop my guard, swift as William Tell’s crossbow bolt split the apple--zing!
Edgar will grab the loot, vanishing in a puff of Mephistophelian smoke. Theatrical and predictable. That’s his game.
..
I admit once or twice he DID manage to distract me. Cheap tricks.
I’m a fast learner, too.
The game is harder and increasingly difficult for both of us as weeks go by.
Our challenge has turned into a crisis of inter-species rivalry for dominance. The Cashew Wars have escalated and I despair--one day--the feathered felon might well prove my Nemesis is more clever than I.
...
Last evening, I remained late on the patio.
A friend of mine was to pick me up (bicycle and all) in his truck and we’d be off to the local Pub for Darts n’ Beer.
I had teased Edgar all day long. I made a big show of opening the cashew bag and removing a nugget of scrumptious temptation, placing it in my mouth, savoring it on my tongue and making “Yum, oh Mmmmm, delicious” remarks.
He’d attempted subtle, not-so-subtle and outright fiendish tricks to distract me. None of them worked because (may the record reflect) HE is the bird brain, not I.
At each attempt, the bold, brassy bird redoubled his efforts, cleverness, and resourceful stratagems. Bupkiss!
About eight in the evening, I got a call--plans had changed.
Now, I had to ride home on the bicycle (in the dark) with only my headlight and taillight to protect me from the forces of evil.
Sure, I could have simply made a big show of generosity. I could dump all cashews on the table and yell, “Come and get it, ya bloody Bugger!”
No way.
That’s NOT how our contest is structured.
Edgar’s role is to DISTRACT me and he’d failed. So, no reward.
I had scored on the big board and nothing but an embarrassing goose egg in Edgar’s column.
Or so I believed at the time…
...
The cashews were in a carry bag with TARGET store logo. It was my taunt to select a bag with a large red target. A bit too on the nose, eh. (I mean, “beak.”)
I kept it right at my elbow all the day long. In plain sight. Easy pickings for a truly brilliant adversary, wouldn’t you say?
I hefted my backpack in place, unlocked the bicycle from the fence rail, checked the air in my tires, clicked on my head and tail lights--(while keeping an eye on my cashew bag).
...
I steeled myself. This would be Edgar’s last chance at the cashews--his beloved, delectable, beak-watering tasty treat. Now or never. Go big or go home, I say.
Well...nothing.
I could see the silhouette of the bandit bird next to his hidey-hole. The peeping head had darted in and back a few hundred times over the length of the day. I half expected an onslaught of renegade mercenary birds bribed by Edgar or a sudden beak in my eye or---?
“LAST CALL!”
Nothing.
Now, pay close attention. I don’t want to have to say this twice. This is what happened.
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As a final “I WIN” taunt, I made a showy display of picking up the cashew bag, opening it, reaching down inside for the last taste treat and---YIKES!
A horrifying scream could be heard piercing the evening. It was an inhuman shriek of pure horror. The voice was mine.
Folks inside Starbucks stopped what they were doing and turned to witness a tall, screaming man with a backpack, thrashing his arms about, swatting at one of the tables outside.
What in hell was going on?--I’m sure they wondered.
…
As we all know, a few days ago Halloween arrived.
There are many ways folks celebrate. Usually, efforts are expended trying to frighten small children who Trick-or-Treat door to door. Some neighbors go all out, don’t they? Sure.
Those folks go to all sorts of trouble to horrify young, defenseless kids dressed as hobgoblins, witches, and Wonder Wimmins. Yes, the more mentally flaky folks might even resort to props of a horrifying nature to decorate the yard, porch, and windows of a house for a scary effect.
Crows, being highly intelligent, observe this annual custom with enormous curiosity.
…
As I reached into the Target bag, Edgar’s head popped out from behind the bushes. Yes, there was something of delightful interest he didn’t want to miss--no sir-did NOT want to miss!
My hand entered the Target bag and the delicate, tender, innocent fingers splayed and wiggled into the bottom, probing for cashews. I gripped and pulled out the contents--which did NOT exactly feel like a cellophane bag of nuts.
As my hand emerged, my pituitary gland flashed a giant RED light, my adrenal glands squirted two pints of emergency dosage for fight or FLIGHT.
I was holding--not a bag o’ nuts. No.
I was holding--not a stash of cashews. No.
I was holding a monstrous, black handful of BLACK TARANTULA!!
AGGGGGH! I HATE BUGS. I HATE SPIDERS. AGGGGGGGH!
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Those who know me well may not know much worth repeating. They do, however, know how terrified of spiders I am. I was once bitten by a brown recluse and went into a coma. I was but a child back then. The fear, the phobia--ARACHNOPHOBIA--to be precise, has never departed.
…
My heart was pounding a mile a minute as I instinctively recoiled, screamed, flailed, and otherwise made a giant donkey of myself in front of everybody.
Had it been a REAL spider, there would just cause, (Instead, there were just "Caws')
I’m sure you’ll all agree, being laughed at is bullying.
Sadly (not complaining, mind you) it was NOT a real Tarantula at all.
No.
Previously that evening, at some fiendishly undetected instant of time, Edgar had stolen the cashews and substituted a very realistic Halloween prop from God knows where.
He’d hung around to see the fruits of his criminal enterprise come to full blossom.
I looked into his bright yellow eyes where smug victory registered as brightly as the North Star shines.
If he’d owned an eyebrow, he’d have arched it.
He had won the game.
His adversary had been defeated, humiliated, and cowed.
The ride home was a time of dark soul searching for a mere human that evening.
Somewhere else in the city, a Crow party was held, with dancing, munching and backslapping storytelling--tales of stupid humanity--hubris, and a comeuppance for people who think they can tease a criminal mastermind with impunity.
I’m sure at this party, the piece de resistance served was a bag of ill-gotten cashews.
Damn you, Edgar!
This isn’t over!!
____________
_____________________
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106
Does anyone have info on the guy that sued Jw in Canada
by poopie inbecause he was shunned by his customers?.
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TerryWalstrom
http://drache.ca/articles/disfellowshipping-is-hard-to-do/#_ftnref1
Don't know if you have seen all these or not. So, for those who haven't.
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106
Does anyone have info on the guy that sued Jw in Canada
by poopie inbecause he was shunned by his customers?.
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TerryWalstrom
– POSITION ON THE APPELLANTS’ QUESTIONS 23. The appellants assert that two questions are in issue. Mr. Wall’s position on those issues— which this factum addresses in reverse order—is as follows: (i) Is the Highwood Congregation’s membership decision subject to judicial review? Yes, in a limited way. Courts can review the fairness of the procedure followed by the Congregation. This procedural review differs from the public law remedy of judicial review. A long line of case law shows courts’ jurisdiction to review voluntary associations’ decisions to ensure consistency with natural justice. Mr. Wall’s application falls within this well-established jurisdiction: it challenges the procedure followed by the Congregation in reaching a decision that significantly affected Mr. Wall’s economic interests. (ii) Is the Highwood Congregation’s membership decision justiciable? Yes, it is. Mr. Wall seeks a review of the Congregation’s decision for procedural fairness alone. His application does not ask the court to resolve a dispute about or to enforce religious doctrine as such. The common law of procedural review for religious organizations is consistent with the various Charter values and interests at stake.
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106
Does anyone have info on the guy that sued Jw in Canada
by poopie inbecause he was shunned by his customers?.
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106
Does anyone have info on the guy that sued Jw in Canada
by poopie inbecause he was shunned by his customers?.
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57
Highwood Congregation of Jehovah's Witnesses v. Randy Wall
by TerryWalstrom inhttp://www.scc-csc.ca/case-dossier/info/webcastview-webdiffusionvue-eng.aspx?cas=37273&id=2017%2f2017-11-02--37273&date=2017-11-02.
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106
Does anyone have info on the guy that sued Jw in Canada
by poopie inbecause he was shunned by his customers?.
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9
In 1923 I Almost Died
by TerryWalstrom inin 1923 i almost died.. don't get me wrong, i wouldn't even exist for another 44 years.. for a few seconds, on top a building, my grandfather stood with tears running down his cheeks and a small caliber pistol in his right hand.
if he had pulled the trigger, not just one man--one very depressed and hopeless man--would die; he'd take with him the four children his wife would never carry, their children (including me) and so on.
all of my children and grandchildren would never exist stretching off into the darkness of eternity itself.. it was on the way back from seagoville, near dallas, my grandfather told me about it the day he drove out to the prison where i was to be released on parole.____.
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TerryWalstrom
OnTheWayOut
Thank you for sharing that!
We may have a new genre here.
We might all of us, if we gave it a moment's thought, discover how much of a miracle our birth actually is! -
9
In 1923 I Almost Died
by TerryWalstrom inin 1923 i almost died.. don't get me wrong, i wouldn't even exist for another 44 years.. for a few seconds, on top a building, my grandfather stood with tears running down his cheeks and a small caliber pistol in his right hand.
if he had pulled the trigger, not just one man--one very depressed and hopeless man--would die; he'd take with him the four children his wife would never carry, their children (including me) and so on.
all of my children and grandchildren would never exist stretching off into the darkness of eternity itself.. it was on the way back from seagoville, near dallas, my grandfather told me about it the day he drove out to the prison where i was to be released on parole.____.
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TerryWalstrom
I like what Sartre said. “Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.
It is up to you to give [life] a meaning.”
“Freedom is what we do with what is done to us.”
“My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.”