Tag: Anita Anand

What is my dream job?

Daily writing prompt
What’s your dream job?
View all responses

to have a dream job, I suppose one would have to have dreams.

And dreams are something that I’ve never had, at least not for a long while.

Growing up, especially in the aftermath of Canadian Forces Base Namao, my only dreams were to die. To die and have my father blamed for my death. That was about my only dream.

I always had dreams of Richard going off to prison for a very long time

When we lived on Canadian Forces Base Downsview in Ontario, my father and my stepmother used to use Canada’s Wonderland as “Richard’s and Sue’s Discount Babysitting Service”, or at least that’s what Scott called it.

Back when Wonderland first opened up, and I think for the first season or two, it had introductory unlimited access and unlimited rides for $29.95. Richard and Sue would drop

I used to dream that I’d get kidnapped from Canada’s Wonderland, that I’d get murdered, and that my body would then be found by a hiker in the woods. And that after identifying my skeleton, the police would go talk to Richard, and Richard would lie, and lie, and lie, and that he’d eventually fess up and that the judge would sentence him to prison with extra time added on for his lies.

But, that never happened.

I’m now 54 years old, and I still dream and ponder about how life would have worked out for Richard if I had been kidnapped and killed.

So far as dream job goes, I’ve never had a dream job.

I wanted to join the Canadian Forces when I was younger, but that never went anywhere due to the recruiting centre “obtaining some information” about me that indicated that I was an unsuitable candidate for service. I think this had to do with Captain Totzke’s paperwork being in my father’s service file, which would have been available for the recruiting service.

I’m probably lucky that I was never enlisted in the Canadian Forces. I don’t really know how well my psyche would have held up in an environment where the truth isn’t based upon reality but is instead based upon the whims and desires of the chain of command.

If I had enlisted in the Canadian Armed Forces I’d probably have to have hidden so deeply in the closet that I’d be somewhere in Narnia.

Working in bowling centres was never what I’d call a dream job. But seeing as how I brought skills to bowling centres that most bowling centres wouldn’t be able to afford, I was always afforded a lot of leeway. I don’t know how well me being trans and going on hormones would have been tolerated at some of the centres, but other centres would have been okay.

There was one guy I worked for in Vancouver. He owned an electronics installation company. He started the company with money that he got from his parents. He couldn’t understand why I just didn’t get some money from my parents and start something up that I liked to do.

Two problems with that. There was never going to be any money from my father, or my stepmother, or my real mother. I don’t blame Sue. I didn’t burst forth from her crotch. Richard? Yeah, fuck no. His responsibility to my brother and I ended when he ejaculated. My mother? Richard having the military chuck her out of the military housing on Summerside destroyed her and turned her into a husk of herself, especially with Richard’s bullshit about her just abandoning the family and running of with a guy named Gus from the P.P.C.L.I..

People often ask me why I’m so leery about guys like Bill Gates, Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Donald Trump, or the various others I’ve known in my life that often portray themselves as self made and living the lives that they lead after years and years of hard work.

I worked under a general manager once who only got his job because his father knew one of the board members of the company. His business degrees were worth less than used toilet paper. His managerial skills consisted of overt threats and convincing people that other people were out to get their jobs. Yes, this manager ended up getting replaced, but not before numerous people who had been with the company for years up and quit. Of course, as fate would have it for the well connected, he ended up failing into a job with more pay and more prestige.

I had a co-worker that wasn’t all that bright, caused far more harm than good, but as he didn’t have crippling depression and debilitating anxiety he could glad-hand his way into positions that he didn’t belong in.

It’s as they say, if you can’t dazzle ’em with brilliance, baffle ’em with bullshit.

If it wasn’t for Errol Musk and his involvement with emerald mining, especially being compensated with roughage that he could then process and keep the proceeds from, Elon wouldn’t have been able to jet set from South Africa to Canada and then into America. According to Errol, any time that Kimbal or Elon needed money for anything, the safe was wide open. If it wasn’t for Maye Musk being Canadian, there would have been no back door for Musk to entre America through.

Musk didn’t found Paypal.

Musk didn’t found Tesla.

Musk did assemble SpaceX, but without SpaceX being awarded a multi-billion dollar contract from NASA for flights to resupply the International Space Station, SpaceX would never have become anything. What’s even more amazing about SpaceX is that it received its first contract with NASA without even having a rocket ready to go.

Jeff Bezos nearly lost everything in the early ’90s with his early attempt at a being a book reseller on the early Internet. Luckily for Jeff, a near 1/4 million dollar loan that his parents facilitated kept him from insolvency and allowed him to start what became Amazon. And now Amazon both via patents and just the sheer magnitude of his empire, Bezos can prevent any and all competition.

William Henry Gates the 3rd is NOT the plucky little guy that started from nothing. The Gates family is a well established and well monied Seattle family going back generations. Bill Gates and Paul Allen both went to the same exclusive school in Seattle. Their respective families were able to get them access time on mainframe computers where they could hone their programming skills. This was at a time when access to mainframes was about $1,000.00/hr. This was before the advent of home computers.

Bills mother was a socialite who hung out with the wives of board member of IBM. This was at a time when IBM was looking to release a personal computer. IBM had the hardware, but they didn’t have an operating system. However it happened, Bill’s mother found out from a wife of an IBM board member, and Bill’s mother told Bill.

Bill Gates then did what any kid with access to easy money did, he bought a licence from a small company in Seattle called the Seattle Computer Company for their product called “Quick and Dirty DOS”, rebranded the QD-DOS as Microsoft DOS and sold a lot of units of this new “MS-DOS” to IBM, and quickly pissed off the Seattle Computer company.

Did I mention that Bill had one of the most influential Seattle lawyers as a father and the founder of the Seattle First National Bank was his grandfather?

Donald Trump is the ultimate Nepotism Baby. Donald would be nothing if it wasn’t for the real estate empire that his father built in New York city. This empire was built from tax payer dollars that were paid to Fred Trump by the US Govt. to build housing for American troops returning from WWII. The fact that the Trumps are even in America is solely due to the fact that when Friedrich Drumpf immigrated to America, immigration requirements were almost non-existent. Friedrich Drumpf immigrated to America he only to avoid a prison sentence in his home country of Bavaria which he was given for failing to enlist for compulsory military service. Friedrich also had no proper documentation when he came to America as Bavaria had stripped him of his citizenship. If Friedrich Drumpf were to try to immigrate to America today he would be refused entry.

Fred Trump was one of the most reviled slumlords in American history. The many scams of the Trumps are far too numerous to list here, but they are publicly available for review.

Needless to say that Donald wouldn’t have reached where he is today if it wasn’t for his family’s money.

Almost everyone in a position of influence these days got there solely due to family money.

This isn’t to say that I would have had a happy life if I had family money, but having family money opens up a lot of doors for a person.

I’ve had co-workers that fell into good positions in life solely due family money or family connections.

And quite honestly I do get rather sick and tired of people telling me that if I wasn’t such a lazy asshole and such a whiny crybaby that I could have simply applied myself and I could have easily been something.

A lot of what the world is these days is people using their family capital to build their personal wealth and empire. And once they build that wealth, they use every means at their disposal to prevent challengers. Microsoft, Apple, etc. don’t own thousands upon thousands of unused patents for no reason at all.

But having family money early on would have allowed me to go to school, maybe to have travelled when I was younger. Maybe bought a house. And afforded myself the ability to have recovered from the trauma of CFB Namao, of my grandmother, of my father, and of Captain Terry Totzke.

Maybe then I could have discovered what a “dream job” was.

When I was 10 years old I was given an IQ test as part of a psychiatric evaluation by my civilian social workers in an attempt to ascertain what the fuck was going on in my brain.

136 +/- 6 was the result of my test.

At work I’m reviled by everyone there.

Every attempt that I make to bring my section into the modern era is met with heavy resistance. Almost every initiative that I’ve tried to institute to ensure compliance with the Safety Standards Act just meets with more stubborn resistance.

I know that I shouldn’t be here.

But power engineering was the only way that a “poor” like me could get into a union position that would protect me and allow me to move out of the life of poverty that the Canadian Armed Forces and my father had assigned me to.

I thought that power engineering was my ticket to the future, but then I very quickly realized that power engineering is just to ensure that there is a warm body in the plant so that mgmt. can assure Tech Safety BC that they are meeting the requirement to have a warm body in the seat as required.

And that’s it.

Nothing more than glorified plunger jockeys.

Yes, I know that I’m too smart for my position and that my knowledge and my abilities intimidate other people.

Yes, I know that I am a complete asshole for not teaching people how to do what I do because I do it so easy.

Yes, I can troubleshoot computer networking issues. But it’s not because I received special training. I just read the books and read the manuals.

I don’t like computers. I don’t play computer games. I don’t edit videos. I don’t make music.

But I can RTFM ( Read The Fucking Manual).

I am also not afraid to call or email tech support for guidance.

It seems like anything that I do at work unleashes the rage of my co-workers.

Run a fibre optic network between the Generator Control system in Phase II over to the Burrard Building power house to eliminate a long standing communication issue with the 600 volt breakers in the Burrard Building?

“Why the fuck is that asshole sticking his fucking business into this, why doesn’t he fuck off and stay in his own lane?”. “The Fuck is wrong with him, the asshole isn’t a licenced electrician so he shouldn’t be touching any of this fucking shit!”

Troubleshoot a long standing communication issue with the Phase II Delayed Vital MODbus network?

“Is he even fucking certified to work on this? What if he destroys a breaker?”

They may think that I don’t hear them, but I hear them.

Their voices, and their sideway glances, and the conversations behind closed doors are easily overheard.

These are the things that I’ve heard all of my life.

“Bobbie’s just trying to make me look bad”

“Bobbie’s just hiding this knowledge from me. If it was easy for a moron like him to learn then he should be able to teach me. Sure, I don’t like computers, I don’t even own one, but he should be able to teach me how to set-up a MODbus to IP gateway ’cause if Bobbie can do it how fucking hard can it be?

“If he wants to work with networking or electronics, why the fuck isn’t he taking a diploma course?”

People have asked why I’m not going to the new hospital even though I was involved on the design committee for the new site.

There were two individuals in particular that went to every extent possible to make sure that I understood that my presence was not wanted on the committee and that I was to stay in my own lane and that anything that I had to say was limited to my power engineer certificate and that anything that I had to say beyond this was not going to be accepted.

These two persons in particular, well there’s a third, but I don’t have to deal with him, made sure that I understood what my place was and that freaks like me aren’t welcome in their new state-of-the-art playhouse.

Get a diploma?

Get a certificate?

Fuck, I don’t even want to get out of bed, how the fuck am I supposed to have enough strength to overcome my daemons and get a fucking diploma or a certificate?

And besides, I’m not fucking 18 years old, or even 24 years old.

I’m 54 fucking years old.

No savings, no real estate, no fucking nothing.

So no, there is no dream job.

There’s just the fucking eternal hell of knowing that I’ll never have the opportunities that should have been mine. That certain assholes will always dangle these opportunities in front of my eyes to ensure that I know that they know what I’ll never have.

p.s.

There was a study that that looked at the outcomes of children with high IQs. It was started in the 1920s in California by the father of the modern IQ test, Lewis Terman. These children were traced all throughout their lives. What surprised Lewis Terman 30 years into this study was that his hypothesis that IQ levels were hereditary was wrong, the parents of the children with high IQs that went on to have better incomes had higher educations, had better jobs, lower divorce rates, and more books in the household. Almost all of the kids that came from poor families with lower education levels and lower expectations of their children ended up as “failures” of no significance that “wasted” their talents.

A lawyer and a Minister

Yesterday I read a tweet from a lawyer that I follow on Twitter.

He was giving praise to Anita Anand, the former minister of National Defence.

I just wonder what this lawyer would have to say about Anita if he knew that she turned a blind eye to the subject of military child sexual abuse.

Monday July 24 2023

I think there are two main reasons as to why the CFNIS refused to bring any type of charge against the babysitter in 2011.

The Summary Investigation Flaw, and the Three Year Time Bar.

Both of these flaws were removed from the National Defence Act in 1998 with the passing of Bill C-25.

These two flaws would have conspired to prevent the CFNIS from laying charges against Captain McRae.

However, the babysitter wouldn’t have enjoyed the protection of the National Defence act and he could be charged for his crimes.

And this would have been a public relations nightmare for the Canadian Forces. Imagine not being able to charge the man that was ultimately responsible for destroying so many young lives on so many bases, where as his teenaged accomplice could be charged.

The brave members of the military

This is the type of response that I’ve encountered when trying to obtain help with the topic of child sexual abuse in the Canadian Armed Forces.

When I started off on this journey back in 2011 I was shortly thereafter given the name of a lawyer from Ontario who had experience taking on the Catholic Church and reaching settlements with the church to compensate the victims of child sexual abuse committed by members of the Catholic Clergy.

This lawyer wouldn’t commit to helping me in my matter.

Why not?

As it turns out he was a member of the Canadian Forces reserves.

I guess he didn’t want to make a bad name for himself in the reserves.

This wasn’t the only lawyer to balk at getting involved with thus matter.

There were three ex-jags who now practice military law in private practice.

Nope. Child sexual abuse in the Canadian Forces was something they were not getting themselves involved with.

Anyways…… time for yet another video.

CBC – discrimination and bias be thy name.

Well, no one will ever convince me any differently now.

If I had a vagina between my legs and the other kids from CFB Namao had vaginas between their legs it’s very, very obvious that the CBC and most other Canadian media would have handled our story and the story of the more than 25 male children from Canadian Forces Base Namao a lot differently.

And as per Captain McRae’s court martial transcripts, and as per his signed confession during his ecclesiastical trial in front of the Archdiocese of Edmonton, Captain McRae molested kids not only on Canadian Forces Base Namao, but also on Canadian Forces Station Holberg, Canadian Forces Base Portage La Prairie, and Canadian Forces Base Kingston.

As it is, the CBC’s outright refusal to look at the events surrounding Captain Father Angus McRae and his 15 year old accomplice shows that the CBC doesn’t consider male child sexual assault to be as serious or as damaging as female sexual assault.

I’ve been dealing with the CBC since 2012.

The only person at the CBC to have shown the slightest in interest was Jenn Blair.

Jenn had a camera operator over to my place to record an interview.

What I didn’t know and what I hadn’t been told was that Jenn was temporary.

Shortly after the interview Jenn was replaced by Rachel Ward.

Rachel scrapped the entire interview. She had an idea. Her idea was that instead of a televised news story, my story could be told via a “timeline” that would be on the CBC Go Public website that people could click on if they were interested.

Rachel just wasn’t that interested.

I told Rachel about MP Randall Garrison, who was the co-chair of the Parliamentary Standing Committee on National Defence, and that he had agreed to ask Lt. Gen. Christine Whitecross during a Standing Committee hearing, who was responsible for investigating matters of child sexual abuse on the bases in Canada.

Rachel told me to call her as soon as I found out.

Randall’s office called me the moment the hearings had concluded to let me know that Randall had asked the question and that I needed to watch the video of the hearings.

Lt. Gen. Christine Whitecross said during the hearing that matters of child sexual abuse are always handed off to the outside civilian authorities. So why were the Canadian Forces National Investigations Service and the Provost Marshal so hellbent on retaining a 35 year old child sexual abuse matter?

So, as per Rachel’s instructions I called her. Got a message saying that the subscriber hadn’t set up their voicemail. I called the Calgary office number that she had called me from. No answer, no voice mail. So I dialled some random numbers by changing the last two digits. End up getting some guy from a video booth. He couldn’t say that he had heard of Rachel, but he checked the internal directory for me. Nope, her name wasn’t showing up. He ended up transferring me to a woman who said she thought that Rachel worked out of the Calgary studio, but that she didn’t really have a landline.

Rachel called a few days later in a huff wanting to know what was so important. I told her that Randall had asked the question about jurisdiction of the military police for child sexual abuse matter and that Lt. Gen. Christine Whitecross had said that the the military police always hand child sexual abuse matters to the outside civilian authorities.

“Look, just because he said that is what she said doesn’t mean that is what she actually said”.

I told her that this was an official session of the Standing Committee on National Defence, that it had been video recorded, and that it was available to view on Parliament’s website.

“I’m busy with other stories right now, I can’t just drop everything that I’m doing to deal with your story”.

I didn’t want to believe it at the time, but I do believe it now.

Had I had a vagina between my legs, the media would have been tripping over themselves to look at child sexual abuse on the Canadian Forces Bases in Canada.

As it is, I have a penis between my legs. And everyone knows, especially the CBC, that people with penises between their legs can’t be sexually abused, they can only be sexual abusers. Because a person with a penis between their legs can’t get pregnant from a sexual assault it’s not really a sexual assault, now is it?

It’s just like what Captain Terry Totzke said to me back in 1980. An 8 year old boy being penetrated by a 15 year old boy and also being abused by a 50 something year old military chaplain happened because I had a mental illness called “homosexuality”. If I didn’t have “homosexuality”, then it wouldn’t have happened.

Realizing that Canadian media was not ever going to be interested in this story I contacted the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ)

The ICIJ put me in contact with a member named Frederic Zalac.

Frederic as it turned out is a reporter with the CBC.

Not interested in the slightest. No criminal charges. I didn’t have the names of the other victims.

And now I have 100% irrefutable proof that the CBC deals with sexual assaults differently depending on the junk between a victim’s legs.

“CBC Investigates”.

Well fuck me gently.

The CBC told me time and time again that without criminal charges, there would be no story. That without statements from other victims willing to go on camera, there would be no story. That I had to find the other victims.

Well, in my case the military justice system wasn’t able to find any evidence to indicate the babysitter was capable of what I accused him of. This even though as it turns out the CFNIS in 2011 had the 1980 CFSIU investigation paperwork and the 1980 Court Martial transcripts that indicate that it was very well known by the base military police, the CFSIU, and the court martial panel, what the babysitter had been doing to young children on base and that it was this molestation of young children on the base that resulted in the prosecution of Captain McRae.

Could the military police be in conflict of interest?

Two retired Supreme Court of Canada justices seem to think so.

An initial investigation…… The CBC had the ability to track a victim down without even knowing their name, but the CBC tells me they can’t investigate my story because tracking names isn’t their job.

Bobbie, unless the other victims are willing to go on the record, this story isn’t going to go too far.

I guess that women are more delicate than men and that men in today’s “macho” society are supposed to be okay with having their names associated with what was until recently considered to be “acts of homosexuality”.

Yep, that’s what it was called back in 1980 when a 50 something year old officer of the Canadian Armed Forces and his teenaged accomplice are investigated for sexually assaulting young prepubescent boys. “Acts of homosexuality”. That’s why I got my conversion therapy from Captain Totzke. That’s why Captain Totzke was adamant that I was a homosexual.

I know where the man who was not only my babysitter, but who was also the accomplice who took me to the chapel to be abused by captain McRae, and who subsequently pimped me out to some random stranger in the sauna at the base swimming pool. He lives in Fort Erie Ontario.

The man who was my primary abuser has a extensive criminal record involving children:
1982 – charged and convicted for molesting a young boy north of CFB Petawawa
1984 – charged and convicted for molesting an 8 year old boy around CFB Winnipeg.
1985 – charge and convicted for molesting a 9 year old boy on CFB Namao and a 13 year old newspaper boy in the west side of Edmonton.
1986 – 2000 Various charges from Buggery to Assault and Robbery.
2015 – 2x sexual assault, 1X forcible confinement

But Bobbie, we can’t just contact this guy and make accusations against him! That wouldn’t be right!

According to retired warrant officer Frederic R. Cunningham, “the brass” wouldn’t allow the Canadian Forces Special Investigation unit nor the Canadian Forces Military Police to call in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to deal with the babysitter. In May of 1980 the investigators with the CFSIU were told to lie about the age of the babysitter and record that he was only 12 years old. The babysitter was born on June 20th, 1965.

I wasn’t “slut shamed”. I was “homosexual shamed”. I received 2-1/2 years of conversion therapy from Captain Terry Totzke for the homosexuality I had exhibited when I frequently had sex with the babysitter.

Yes, for the 1 millionth time, I understand that CFAO 19-20 would not have applied directly to me as I was not a member of the Canadian Armed Forces. However, my social worker, military officer Captain Terry Totzke would have been very well aware of this. His training as provided by the Canadian Forces would have trained him and instructed him that males having sexual intercourse with other males was wrong and was ultimately a sign of an underlying mental illness. The fact that I was an 8 year old boy with nary a hair between his legs didn’t make a difference. I had allowed a boy twice my age, and on more than one occasion , to put his fingers and his penis into my ass. It doesn’t get more homosexual than that.

I met a couple of other victims via the face book groups. But most people who had a rough life growing up on base stay away from the base brat groups. If it wasn’t for me wanting to seek justice for what had happened on CFB Namao from 1978 until 1980 and then on CFB Griesbach from 1980 until 1983 I never would have joined facebook.

Advocating for change within the defence community is a non-starter as the defence community won’t even acknowledge this. In 2016 during a meeting with then Minister of National Defence Harjit Sajjan, Minister Sajjan accused me of “playing games” and “having an angle” insinuating that I was just trying to score some easy money from the military.

I had sent communications to current Minister of National Defence Anita Anand. I’ve never received any response. Not even after the Military Police Complaints Commission released their report in 2020 that found ample evidence that the CFNIS in 2011 knew about the babysitter’s criminal history on CFB Namao as the CFNIS had the 1980 CFSIU and 1980 Court Martial transcripts.

There is no support available for former former military dependants who were sexually abused on base and then fucked over by the defective military justice system. The DND and the CAF have no legal obligations to military dependents living on defence establishments, no matter the source of their injuries.

Civilian support services just roll their eyes when you try to explain what happened on the bases. The provinces in general consider what happened on base to be a federal matter, not a provincial matter.

An investigative podcast and two feature stories, man I wish I was this lucky.

People often wonder if I really want to undergo M.A.i.D.. or if I’m just claiming to want to do so as a means of getting attention.

I grew up in a dysfunctional military family in which my father used his postings to stay one step ahead of provincial social services.

I was sexually abused for 1-1/2 years starting at age 7.

From age 9 to age 11 I received what amounted to “conversion therapy” from a Canadian Forces military social worker.

As this social worker was a captain and my father was a master corporal my father placed special emphasis on what this social worker had to say.

I was raised by a grandmother who had survived Indian residential school and had the emotional damage and the alcoholism that came with having gone through Indian Residential School.

My father was just as emotionally damaged as his mother and was a piss-tank alcoholic just like his mother.

My father, unable and unwilling to accept responsibility for his two sons being sexually abused in his house while being raised by his own mother blamed me instead for the abuse my younger brother went through.

Even though just months after the abuse came to a screeching halt I had been diagnosed with major depression, severe anxiety, haphephobia, and an intense fear of men, Captain Totzke never seemed to follow through with treatments for me.

According to my social service records, when Alberta Social Services wanted to pull me from my father’s home and place me into residential care or foster care, Captain Totzke appears to have helped with my father obtaining a posting out of the jurisdiction of Alberta.

I was left to suffer all alone for all of these years with gender confusion, fear of sex, fear of men, untreated major depression, untreated severe anxiety, haphephobia, etc.

Yes, I really do want to undergo M.A.i.D..

There’s nothing left to fix.

I’m tired, my brain is burnt out, and it really is time to go.

Time for some videos…….

Okay, depression is clearing so I thought that I would make some videos before the depression comes back. Gotta be quick.

So, here are some videos that I made yesterday.

I might even have enough energy and enough nerves to do some more today.

Richard the Misogynist

To say that my father Richard was a misogynist would have been an understatement. Of all of the traits that I may have picked up from my father, thankfully his misogyny and hatred of women wasn’t one of them.

Many other reasons for M.A.i.D.

People keep fixating on the sexual abuse at the hands of the babysitter as my reasons for desiring to end my life via M.A.i.D..

This of course ignores the professional malpractice I endured at the hands of Canadian Forces military social worker Captain Terry Totzke. Professional malpractice that denied me treatment for major depression, severe anxiety, and haphephobia. Professional malpractice that also interfered with my safety and wellbeing. Professional malpractice that caused me to have life long issues with sexual identity.

There are many more reasons for why I would like to be put to sleep. The year and a half of sexual abuse is only a part of the equation.

Why is death the only appropriate answer?

Why do I view my death as the only appropriate answer?

It’s quite simple. I don’t want a chemical lobotomy. I also don’t want to be blamed for not “trying hard enough”.

The damage is done.

My Class Action

Not really too much to say in this one.

The Department of Justice is a massive organization with more money and more lawyers than the law firm representing me could ever dream of having access to.

The goal of the DOJ is to work out a settlement that will allow the DND and the CAF to look like the heroes while not admitting that children were fucked over by the defective and easily manipulated pre-1998 military justice system.

The DOJ has already tried arguing that the DND and the CAF shouldn’t be responsible for the victims of Captain McRae’s teenaged accomplice. That the DND and the CAF should only be responsible for the children abused by Captain McRae himself. The problem with this is that even though the original CFSIU investigation into Captain McRae was well aware of numerous victims of Captain McRae and his teenaged accomplice, at least 25 according to the father of the teenaged accomplice, the chain of command interfered with the CFSIU investigation and limited the charges against Captain McRae to only those involving Captain McRae’s teenaged accomplice.

In a nutshell, under the DOJ’s argument, only the teenaged accomplice would receive any funds or acknowledgement from the DOJ, the CAF, and the DND.

Milk, it does a body bad……..

My body.

Milk fucks with my body.

When I was young, nothing would get my grandmother’s anger going faster than me trying to ditch my cereal, or yogurt, or porridge.

I hated milk as a kid.

The taste of it sucked.

It always tasted metallic and acidic to me.

It made my stomach sore.

Within an hour of drinking milk my asshole would become extremely itchy.

The cramps sucked.

So, I used to try to dump my cereal into the toilet.

But grandma caught me and after that she would hover over me and would crack the back of my hands with her wooden soup spoon.

I even tried to discretely dump my cereal into the garbage.

I had to eat my cereal out of the garbage when she caught me.

I once tried to hide my cereal in the floor register.

Got caught and had to scoop it out and eat it.

After grandma moved out, Richard and Sue would leave for work early and leave my brother and I at home to get ready for school by ourselves.

I’d eat my cereal dry and flush the milk.

After I moved out of the house when I was 16 I didn’t really have steady housing until I was about 23. So I never had the need for milk and never drank it again.

As a child, I only had ice cream on the rare occasion. Ice cream always tasted nice.

Well, between the time I moved out and the year 2000, I had never really had much in the way of dairy or ice cream, but I got bit by the ice cream bug while I was living on Barclay St. in the west end of Vancouver.

Went into the Dairy Queen for some totally out of the blue reason and I had a sundae.

Finished it.

And then about 5 minutes later I knew I was in trouble.

I barely made it back to my apartment before all hell broke loose.

It was like my colon exploded.

The smell was rancid.

And the amount of blood was disturbing.

So, off to the doctor I went.

“Anyone in your family lactose intolerant?”

Not sure.

“Well, why don’t you wait a couple of weeks and try some dairy again? You might have just had a stomach bug that coincided with you eating ice cream. I wouldn’t worry”

So, I waited about two months and challenged ice cream again.

Same result.

Went back to the doctor.

“Well, I don’t think we need to waste time testing you, it’s fairly obvious that you can’t process lactose. You might want to stay away from dairy”.

I did some reading on lactose intolerance, and pretty well everything that was indicated as being a symptom of lactose intolerance, I had.

I wondered if grandma knew that I was lactose intolerant.

Did my father know?

Obviously not.

Or so I thought.

In the summer of 2011, after I had obtained my social service records from the Alberta Government, I started filling ATI requests with other provincial governments.

In my hospital records from the IWK children’s hospital were numerous notes about how I would become very colicky and I was exhibiting rectal bleeding.

After a few rounds of testing it was determined that I was lactose intolerant and that I was to be placed on a dairy free diet. This was in 1975.

Two years before grandma would come to live with us full time.

Two years before she practically started funnelling the fucking crap down my throat.

I don’t know how many kids were forced to eat cereal out of the garbage, but I still dry heave when I think about it.

Richard would have written my lactose intolerance off as being just a way for me to get attention. But then again, he just really didn’t give a fuck.

Grandma? She had a lot of issues. Maybe she was too drunk to remember being told that I was lactose intolerant.

These days I survive just fine.

Having ice cream like treats isn’t a problem as there are dairy free soy based products, or even treats like sorbet. And even lactose free dairy exists.

There are still the occasional screwups no matter how careful I am.

I had a donair platter a couple of weeks ago. The store I go to has two styles of Tzatziki sauce. Regular and lactose free. They goofed on the order and gave me regular tzatziki sauce. Yep, it was as painful as could be after about 10 minutes. And I just barely made it home in time.

I drink soy cappuccinos and soy hot chocolates. The baristas at the local coffee shops are great, but occasionally a mixup is made. Usually the acidic taste will tell me that they used real dairy.

One of the side effects of lactose intolerance is malabsorption. The more lactose one consumes, the more inflamed their small intestines become. The more inflamed the small intestine becomes, the less able it is to absorb required nutrients and minerals.

Probably explains why I was an under weight runt for most of my childhood and why the docs at the IWK noted that I was anorexic.