Tuesday, March 19, 2019

° » 5 day

Because we have been waiting for you for a decade

Super-ego and the ID

Oh those magical days of youth. The stealthy stealing of liquor from your parents’ cabinet. The sly replacing of vodka with water. But it was always too little. Then you show up to school on Monday, and after sharing a smoke at the pit out back, your friend opens her wallet and shows you the new way. Oh that forever blessed new picture I.D. You look at it and can’t believe the friend you’ve known since grade three is in fact over thirty and almost no longer eligible for the draft in most places. With this little piece of laminated plastic, your friend is now eligible to buy booze for herself and all her friends, can go across the street to buy smokes, get into clubs and even, if she cared about politics, vote. Well while those days are never really over; the wayward path for the next generation of miscreants and juvenile fun lovers just got a little more difficult. The sweet, though illegal, provider of youthful identity, King’s I.D. next door to the Medical Arts Building on Granville, is closed for good. In business since any one of us can remember (although, according to our ID’s we’re all now in our fifties, qualified medical “bonesaw” doctors, and certified in Virginia, Prague, and Swaziland to fly a commercial airliner) has finally been busted for (get this) forging fake ID’s.

Age of Consent is an arbitrary designation. Frankly, the most irresponsible people are allowed to have children. The Premier is a drunk driver but he’s still permitted to hack through leg-bones with a rasp in Africa while aboard a Czech 747. You know where he got his license. Somebody, sometime, somewhere, made the decision that the age of eighteen (or nineteen, or, in Alberta, anywhere from twelve to thirty-eight, depending on the stage of the moon or whether Premier Klein is having his period) was the magic age, when everybody could be trusted with booze, cars, sex, guns and voting. Numbers vary, but you get the idea. And, on the whole it’s a sound idea. Before a certain point we really are TOO young to use forklifts. But where there is a bit of grey area, shouldn’t a person be entitled to take it upon him or herself to shave reality to their benefit? If a child is old enough to know a) Where to go to obtain a fake ID. b) Have the nerve to follow through with illegally obtaining a fake ID. c) Have the balls to give it a go walking up to a fucking nine foot tall bouncer with a shingle of laminated tomfoolery declaring themselves the Surgeon General (Ret.) of Abyssinia– This ten year old deserves a drink.

How old is too young to go to war? To suffer abuse at home and violence at school? To be bombarded with ideologies via TV, that a shaved laboratory monkey strapped into a dentist chair shouldn’t be subjected to? In BC twelve year olds can be expected to work full time! Grown-ups set these boundaries and then fail, time and again, to live up to the expectations they hammer into their children. Kids are not allowed to have childhoods and the young are not allowed to dance in Footloose. Fair enough. And King’s ID was wrong. Kids shouldn’t drink. Fair enough. What he was doing was illegal. Fair enough. Ultimately, Only can’t argue that what has happened shouldn’t have. But can you taste the drop of freedom sour ever so slightly more, turning to the vinegar of oppression? Of course you can’t. You are a sixty seven year old gynecologist jet fighter pilot with a home in the Cayman Islands and a legally ordained ministry in the Turks and Caicos. You’re old. You wouldn’t understand.

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