#BCPoli | Election 2024 Kindness as a Core Value in the Political Realm

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Recently, VanRamblings was afforded the opportunity to meet Dallas Brodie, the B.C. Conservative Party candidate in the riding of Vancouver-Quilchena.

Ms. Brodie, when she approached VanRamblings, told us that one of her campaign workers had made mention to her that we had recently written about her on our blog. Ms. Brodie followed up her initial comment to us by saying, “I read several articles on your blog. You’re a very good writer. Thank you for what you do!”

Now, did Ms. Brodie have to be kind, greet us with a warmth of character and a disarming and engaging complimentary élan?

Nope, she didn’t — particularly given that we’re an opinionated sort of fella, and chances are that Ms. Brodie read some VanRamblings commentary or other with which she was not necessarily in agreement (apparently, Ms. Brodie and VanRamblings, we are told, do not share a “political philosophy” .. alas).

Nonetheless, Dallas Brodie was invariably kind during the few minutes we spoke with one another — in an often too contentious world defined by an unwholesome divisiveness, VanRamblings came away from our encounter hopeful and heartened.

VanRamblings takes this opportunity to congratulate Dallas Brodie on her pending win in the Vancouver-Quilchena riding, where we feel quite assured that she will more than ably represent the concerns and interests of her grateful constituents.

The Role of Kindness as a Core Value in Politics

In an era where political discourse is often dominated by divisiveness, hostility, and polarization, the concept of kindness might seem quaint or naïve.

When we examine the foundational purpose of politics — the organization of society for the common good — kindness emerges as a practical and necessary value.

At its core, kindness represents empathy, respect, and a genuine concern for others. When woven into the fabric of political practices, kindness fosters collaboration, promotes inclusivity, and enables the pursuit of justice and equality.

Kindness must be viewed not as a weakness, but as an essential guiding principle in the development of government policy, and political conduct.


Premier David Eby, one of the kindest, most empathetic persons VanRamblings has ever known, a man  committed to social and economic justice, and a robust full employment economy.

In the 17 years we have enjoyed a political alliance with David Eby, we have always found him to be kind, not just to VanRamblings, but to everyone who comes into his orbit. David Eby is one of the kindest, most empathetic and entirely decent persons we have ever known, possessed of a beneficent social conscience, and as you may have noticed since he became Premier, a grassroots, democratic pragmatism that reflects the best interests of those he serves.

VanRamblings very much believes in the concept of “dancing with the one that brung ya.” As such, we’ll work diligently on David’s upcoming campaign.

Kindness as a Tool for Justice and Equity

Kindness in politics also has a powerful role in advancing justice and equity.

At its core, political decision-making is about determining how resources, rights, and opportunities are distributed within society. When kindness is embedded in this process, it ensures decisions are made with empathy for our most vulnerable populations.

In practical terms, policies that reflect kindness take into account the well-being of all citizens. The commitment to social and environmental justice is not an act of charity but an acknowledgment of our shared humanity.

The importance of kindness in addressing issues like climate change cannot be overstated. Climate change disproportionately affects the poorest and most vulnerable communities.

A kind approach to environmental policy prioritizes the well-being of future generations and ensures that those who are least responsible for climate change are not left to bear its worst consequences. By fostering and promoting a sense of responsibility, political leaders who prioritize personal and social kindness (and equity) can guide the world toward more sustainable and just solutions.


John Coupar, a candidate for the B.C. Conservative Party, in the Vancouver-Little Mountain riding.

We had written on VanRamblings last week that we’ll be endorsing John Coupar — a past Vancouver Park Board Chairperson, and current Conservative Party of British Columbia candidate — in his bid to win the newly-created Vancouver-Little Mountain riding in the upcoming provincial election.

For maximum exposure, VanRamblings’ plan will be to publish our formal endorsement of Mr. Coupar early next month, a couple of weeks away from British Columbia’s October 19th provincial election date.

As we have written on social media, at least in part (and for us, an important part) of our endorsement of John Coupar arises from the fact Mr. Coupar, in the time we have known him, has always been one of the kindest, most open and most welcoming human beings we have ever encountered.

Which is not to say that John Coupar isn’t a take no guff, tough but fair-minded man of conscience, a man possessed of integrity and great character, a man who while not suffering fools gladly will stand up always for and behind what he believes is right and just, and serves the best interests of the community, and those he has been elected to serve and represent (which means, of course, all of us).

Kindness as a core value in politics is not just an idealistic aspiration; it is a pragmatic approach to creating a more just, equitable, and functional society.

By humanizing political dialogue, building trust, and promoting co-operation, kindness can repair the fractures in our political systems and enable leaders to address the pressing issues of our time with empathy and clarity.

Kindness in politics is a reflection of strength — the strength to listen, to compromise, and to fight for a society where all individuals are treated with dignity.

Music | Top 100 Albums | Imogen Heap Creates A Career, and Endures

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Imogen Heap has the kind of fame that’s mostly invisible.

Throughout her three decades long career, the Grammy Award-winning British musician has merged intimate, sweet, stirring vocals fused with gently sweeping electronic soundscapes into lilting, alluring, pulsating and ethereal synthesized, yet organic pop that is uniformly and captivatingly gorgeous. Perhaps not the best known music artist, Imogen Heap maintains a loyal fan base that encompasses both her devoted listeners, and music critics across every continent on the planet.

Thus, Imogen Heap has managed to build herself a successful, if low key, career that has endured for the past quarter century and more, as she remains true to herself, a self-produced artist popular on the indie concert circuit across the globe.

Born Imogen Jennifer Jane Heap in London, she was raised in Essex, where she studied classical piano from a young age, writing songs in her early teens.

While attending boarding school in her mid-teens, Imogen Heap discovered alternative pop/rock, Euro-pop, and electronica, a musical mixture that effectively ended her desire to become a classical instrumentalist.

In the musical era of the 1990s when talented, attractive young female artists were breaking out into momentous world wide fame — think, Britney Spears, Fiona Apple, Tori Amos, Aaliyah and Alanis Morissette, to name just a few outstanding artists — record companies were on the lookout for upcoming new talent.

Thus, a young 17-year-old Imogen Heap was discovered, promoted and ferried across the globe to meet music critics in major cities across North America.

VanRamblings was invited to an intimate concert featuring Ms. Heap that took place on a late evening in 1993, in the basement of the Georgia Hotel, where a gangly young Ms. Heap played a handful of songs she’d written, after which the music critics on hand were afforded an opportunity to meet with her for an interview, accompanied by a local Warner Bros. A&R rep, in a room just off the concert stage.

Long story short, Imogen Heap’s début release was not a hit, the album fading into history, and, should you look online, not included in Ms. Heap’s discography.

Although Imogen Heap’s 1998 album iMegaphone received some acclaim — Ms. Heap’s music reflecting influences including Kate Bush, Annie Lennox, and Björk —  the album did not sell well, as Ms. Heap lost her contract with Almo Sounds.

All was not lost, though, as Ms. Heap’s transcendently lovely vocals caught the attention of Guy Sigsworth, Madonna’s producer at the time — who produced one of the songs on iMegaphone —  who kept in touch with her after the album’s release.

In 2000, Guy Sigsworth suggested a collaboration.

In the early 2000s, Heap and Sigsworth began working together, sharing equal responsibilities in the collaborative project Frou Frou.

Despite the duo’s lighthearted name, Frou Frou utilized electronics to create an atmospheric, dreamy, and nuanced sound. MCA/Universal signed the group in 2001, and Heap temporarily put her solo career on hold.

Frou Frou released the album Details in 2002.

MCA/Universal arranged for a global concert series for Imogen Heap to support the album. Details sold like mad for Frou Frou across the European continent, becoming a massive hit for the duo, with the song Let Go topping the charts, while also being included on the award-winning Garden State soundtrack.

The success of Frou Frou allowed Imogen Heap to return to her first love: a self-produced, solo career. As Ms. Heap continued to tour across North and South America, and Europe, Frou Frou became a hit only on the European continent, most particularly in France, where Imogen Heap became a certified star.

Frou Frou and Details never took off anywhere else on the planet, save Europe, although the success of the album did serve to pay Heap’s bills, while allowing her to refocus on her career as a solo artist.

From 2003 through 2005, Imogen Heap taught herself the intricacies of the complex music production software Pro Tools (also used by Finneas O’Connell in the production of Billie Eilish’s début album).


Track 2, Goodnight and Go, from Imogen Heap’s 2005 smash hit album, Speak for Yourself.

By 2004, Frou Frou had disbanded, as Heap turned her attention to creating her first, fully self-produced album, which would become the massive hit, Speak for Yourself, which she produced over the period of a year and a half in her kitchen, responsible for every intimate detail of the album.


Track 5, Hide and Seek, from Imogen Heap’s 2005 smash hit album, Speak for Yourself.

The first smash hit off of Speak for Yourself, which sold wildly across the globe, gaining immense radio play, was Hide and Seek, the song rising to number one on the indie charts across Europe, and North and South America. Hide and Seek stops the show midway through; it’s expressly designed to make you come to a dead stop on your drive or walk like it did when it popped up in The O.C.

An a cappella blend of Heap’s hyper-layered pipes, it’s sonic trickery makes the song lap itself; there’s so much synthetic beauty in there that it comes off sounding organic anyway. Besides, it’s uniformly gorgeous; no beat required.


Imogen Heap’s voice, an ephemeral elastic thing that more often than not disappears into the music, as is very much the case with Just for Now, Track 9 on Ms. Heap’s 2005 album, Speak for Yourself.

Speak for Yourself ends with the rather melancholy The Moment I Said It, the song notable for its contrasting melodies that hint at greater possibilities in the future.


Track 12, The Moment I Said It, from Imogen Heap’s 2005 smash hit album, Speak for Yourself.

Stories of a Life | Redux | Cathy and Raymond’s 1970s European Adventure

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Traveling on a train across Europe, with a Eurail Pass, in the 1970s

In the summer of 1974, Cathy and I traveled to Europe for a three-month European summer vacation, BritRail and Eurail passes in hand, this was going to be a summer vacation to keep in our memory for always.

And so it proved to be …

On another day, in another post evoking memories of our cross-continental European sabbatical, I’ll relate more stories of what occurred that summer.

Train travel in Spain, in the 1970s, as the train makes its way around the bend

Only 10 days prior to the event I am about to relate, Cathy and I had arrived in Lisbon, Portugal, alighting from a cruise liner we’d boarded in Southampton, England (passage was only 5£s, much cheaper than now).

After a couple of wonderful days in Lisbon, Cathy and I embarked on the first part of our hitchhiking sojourn throughout every portion of Portugal we could get to, finally traveling along the Algarve before arriving in the south of the country, ready to board a train to Spain.

Unfortunately, I developed some intestinal disorder or other, requiring rest and fluids.

Once Cathy could see that I was going to be fine, she left the confines of our little pensão to allow me to recover in peace, returning with stories of her having spent a wonderful day at the beach with an enthusiastic retinue of young Portuguese men, who had paid attention to and flirted with her throughout the day.

Cathy was in paradisiacal heaven; me, not so much.

Still, I was feeling better, almost recovered from my intestinal malady, and the two of us made a decision to be on our way the next morning.

Traveling from the south of Portugal to Spain, in the 1970s

To say that I was in a bad mood when I got onto the train is to understate the matter. On the way to the station, who should we run into but the very group of amorous young men Cathy had spent the previous day with, all of whom were beside themselves that this braless blonde goddess of a woman was leaving their country, as they beseeched her to “Stay, please stay.”

Alas, no luck for them; this was my wife, and we were going to be on our way.

Still suffering from the vestiges of both an irritable case of jealousy and a now worsening intestinal disorder, I was in a foul mood once we got onto the train, and as we pulled away from the station, my very loud and ill-tempered mood related in English, those sitting around us thinking that I must be some homem louco, and not wishing in any manner to engage.

A few minutes into my decorous rant, a young woman walked up to me, and asked in the boldest terms possible …

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

“Huh,” I enquired?

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? That’s the filthiest mouth I’ve ever heard. You’ve got to teach me how to swear!”

At which point, she sat down across from me, her lithe African American dancer companion moving past me to sit next to her. “Susan. My name is Susan. This is my friend, Danelle,” she said, pointing in the direction of Danelle. “We’re from New York. We go to school there. Columbia. I’m in English Lit. Danelle’s taking dance — not hard to tell, huh? You two traveling through Europe, are you?” Susan all but shouted. “I come from a large Jewish family. You? We’re traveling through Europe together.”

And thus began a beautiful friendship.

Turns out that Susan could swear much better than I could; she needed no instruction from me. Turns out, too, that she had my number, and for all the weeks we traveled together through Europe, Susan had not one kind word for me — she set about to make my life hell, and I loved every minute of it. Susan became the sister I wished I’d had, profane, self-confident, phenomenally bright and opinionated, her acute dissection of me done lovingly and with care, to this day one of the best and most loving relationships I’ve ever had.

Little known fact about me: I love being called out by bright, emotionally healthy, socially-skilled and whole women.

Two-year-old Jude Nathan Tomlin, baby Megan Jessica, and dad, Raymond, in June 1977
The summer of 1974, when Cathy became pregnant with Jude, on the right above.

Without the women in my life, Cathy or Megan, my daughter — when Cathy and I separated — Lori, Justine, Alison, Patricia, Julienne or Melissa, each of whom loved me, love me still, and made me a better person, the best parts of me directly attributable to these lovely women, to whom I am so grateful for caring enough about me to make me a better person.

Now onto the raison d’être of this instalment of Stories of a Life.

Once Susan and I had settled down — there was an immediate connection between Susan and I, which Cathy took as the beginnings of an affair the two of us would have (as if I would sleep with my sister — Danelle, on the other hand, well … perhaps a story for another day, but nothing really happened, other than the two of us becoming close, different from Susan).

J. D. Salinger's Nine Stories, an anthology of short stories published in April 1953

 

Danelle saw a ragged copy of J.D. Salinger’s Nine Stories peeking out of Cathy’s backpack.

“Okay,” she said. “In rounds, let’s each one of us give the title of one of the Salinger short stories,” which we proceeded to do. Cathy was just now reading Salinger, while I’d read the book while we were still in England, about three weeks earlier.

Cathy started first, For Esmé — with Love and Squalor. Danelle, Teddy. Susan, showing off, came up with A Perfect Day for Bananafish, telling us all, “That story was first published in the January 31, 1948 edition of The New Yorker.” Show off! I was up next, and came up with Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut. Phew — just barely came up with that one! Thank goodness.

Onto the second round: Cathy, Down at the Dinghy; Danelle, Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes; Susan, showing off again, De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period, “turned down by The New Yorker in late 1951, and published by the British Information World Review, early in 1952.” Me? Struggling yet again, but subject to a momentary epiphany, I blurted out, Just Before the War with the Eskimos. There we were, eight stories down and one to go.

But do you think any one of us could come up with the title to the 9th tale in Salinger’s 1953 anthology of short stories? Nope.

We thought about it, and thought about it — and nothing, nada, zero, zilch. We racked our brains, and we simply couldn’t come up with the title of the 9th short story.

We sat there, hushed. For the first time in about half an hour, there was silence between us, only the voices of children on the train, and the clickety-clack of the tracks as the train relentlessly headed towards Madrid.

We couldn’t look at one another. We were, as a group, downcast, looking up occasionally at the passing scenery, only furtively glancing at one another, only periodically and with reservation, as Cathy held onto my arm, putting hers in mine, Danelle looking up, she too wishing for human contact.

Finally, Susan looked up at me, looked directly at me, her eyes steely and hard yet … how do I say it? … full of love and confidence in me, that I somehow would be the one to rescue us from the irresolvable dilemma in which we found ourselves.

Beseechingly, Susan’s stare did not abate …

“The Laughing Man,” I said, “The Laughing Man! The 9th story in Salinger’s anthology is …” and before I could say the words, I was smothered in kisses, Cathy to my left, Susan having placed herself in my lap, kissing my cheeks, my lips, my forehead, and when she found herself unable to catch her breath, Danelle carrying on where Susan had left off, more tender than Susan, loving and appreciative, Cathy now holding me tight, love all around us.

A moment that will live in me always, a gift of the landscape of my life.

#VIFF2024 | Four More Films to Be Celebrated at This Year’s Film Festival

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The 43rd annual Vancouver International Film Festival, running from September 26th thru October 6th

In this second of a series on the upcoming Vancouver International Film Festival, as we did last Friday, once again today we will present four more films for you to put on your VIFF 2024 film schedule, films to take in and appreciate, films you will love, and films that will change your life immeasurably for the better.

All We Imagine As Light
Saturday September 28th
9:30pm, Vancouver Playhouse

Tuesday October 1st
3pm, Vancouver Playhouse

Tickets available online for the Saturday screening. Just click on this link.

Tickets available online for the Tuesday screening. Just click on this link.

Grand Prix winner, Cannes 2024

In last week’s edition of the IndieWire Screen Talk podcast, co-host Anne Thompson — for 40 years a luminary in the film business, the beloved editor of what was once upon a time the recognized standard in journalistic film coverage,  Premiere magazine, and long Hollywood’s most accurate Oscar prognosticator — Anne Thompson enthusiastically expressed that All We Imagine As Light is her favourite film this year, the film she enthused: “an exquisite, spellbindlingly hypnotic, and poignantly lyrical symphonic film that transcends form and style, and a film of enriching humanity and gentleness, languorous eroticism, joy and sadness, presented throughout with an epiphanic, captivating beauty rarely seen on film.”

All We Imagine As Light relates the story of the lives of three women nurses who are front and centre in director Payal Kapadia’s luminous Mumbai-set drama. Prabha works long hours to avoid thinking about her husband, who left for Germany long ago and eventually stopped calling, while two of her colleagues are struggling with troubles of their own. Winner of the Grand Prix at Cannes this year (an historic first for an Indian film), the film offers a moving portrait of resistance and camaraderie, and a VIFF 2024 film that finds beauty and solace in the unlikeliest of places.

No Other Land
Saturday, September 28th
3:30pm, SFU Woodwards

Tuesday, October 1st
6:30pm, Fifth Avenue Cinema
Auditorium 3

Tickets available online for the Saturday screening. Just click on this link.

Tickets available online for the Tuesday screening. Just click on this link.

Best Documentary Award, Berlin 2024

A vital and wrenching documentary about Israel’s often barbaric efforts to expel a Palestinian community, co-directed by a collective of Israeli and Palestinian filmmakers, No Other Land offers a ground-level view of an occupation in action in this must-see, award-winning documentary.

A painfully human story, the film tracks Basel Adra, a young Palestinian activist from Masafer Yatta on the southern West Bank, and the mass expulsion of his community that has been his lifelong reality. Faced with the systematic demolition of homes and schools, carried out to make room for an Israeli military training ground, residents confront a painful choice: either move away and relinquish their land or endure and try to rebuild.

With the help of Yuval Abraham, an Israeli journalist, Adra documents the evictions and organizes protests against them, even as the pair’s unequal personal situations hang over their work together. No Other Land is a vérité project and a witness testimony. It operates within the logic that visual evidence will galvanize the public to acknowledge the brutality faced by Palestinians.

Given the conditions of its production, No Other Land would be vital even in a more ragged form. But the filmmaking here is tight and considered, with nimble editing that captures the sense of time at once passing and looping back on itself. The intense, jolting impact of the film’s intense sequences of Palestinian-Israeli confrontation — often shot on phone cameras, to the consternation of army officials, and violent enough to shock many complacent fence-sitters on the issue into angry awareness — is balanced with more composed, observational scenes of Adra, his family and his neighbours trying to live an everyday life on ground that keeps getting pulled out from under them.

Hope is fading that the next generation might retain their ancestral land; if they do, they’ll likely inherit Adra’s activism with it.


John David Washington and Skylar Smith in Malcolm Washington’s Telluride hit, The Piano Lesson.

The Piano Lesson
Monday September 30
6pm, Vancouver Playhouse

Tickets available online. Just click on this link.

Denzel Washington executive produces an adaptation of a major American play by August Wilson, directed by one son (Malcolm) and starring another (John David).

A world première at the just wrapped 2024 Telluride Film Festival, where the film débuted to an appreciative reception, Wilson’s tome centres around a unique piano currently under the watch of Bernice (Danielle Deadwyler), a single mother who lives in a Pittsburgh home she shares with her Uncle Doaker (Samuel L. Jackson reprising his Tony Award-nominated performance). Her relative peace is disturbed by the arrival of her brother Boy Willie (John David Washington) and his slightly naive friend Lymon (Ray Fisher) from Mississippi. She soon discovers that Boy Willie’s intentions do not align with her own.

At its core, The Piano Lesson is about a family attempting to come to terms with the long repercussions of slavery. Like almost all of Wilson’s work, it is a quintessentially American story peppered with characters that should resonate and spark conversation for decades to come. And, like many of Wilson’s literary contributions, translating it into the medium of cinema was no easy task. That Washington’s adaptation is the most successful so far, and in the context of his first film, no less, should be duly celebrated.

The End
Friday, October 4th
9pm, Vancouver Playhouse

Sunday, October 6th
9pm, Vancouver Playhouse

Tickets available online for the Friday screening. Just click on this link.

Tickets available online for the Sunday screening. Just click on this link.

Another hit at the Telluride Film Festival arriving on our shores at VIFF 2024 in early October, Tilda Swinton and Michael Shannon sing for their lives in Joshua Oppenheimer’s post-apocalyptic musical, as the director of the acclaimed and memorably bizarre nonfiction film, 2012’s The Act of Killing — an account of the genocide in Indonesia, in which he famously persuaded the killers to re-enact their crimes on camera in gaudy cinematic vignettes — leaps into fiction with this staggering meditation on how we live with ourselves at the end of the world.

For a film whose slow-accumulating power doesn’t fully sink in until its final moments (a sweet refrain that’s all the more arresting for its anticlimactic conviction), The End doesn’t waste any time to put its cards on the table. The world as we know it is over. Something — or a chain reaction of somethings, most of them presumably climate-related — has spread across the surface of the Earth, destabilizing human civilization and making our planet unlivable. Hey, maybe British Columbia’s climate change denying leader of our province’s Conservative Party, John Rustad, oughta take in a screening of this film — you never know … it could open his eyes, and save us from four interminable years of “There’s no climate emergency. It’s all a hoax” rhetoric, and maybe save our planet, and our children’s lives.