About five years ago when we were living in the urban sprawl of Vancouver our apartment was burglarized. We were suddenly very alone and vulnerable. It wasn’t the stuff, so much. It was rotten-to-the-core feeling of being helpless and insignificant. It was the sleepless nights. It was waking up at all hours from any small noise in the hallway wondering if those footsteps would stop in front of our door. It was the haunting words of the police officer who, despite a fairly good lead on a suspect, was unable to assure us that much of anything could be done. And nothing ever was. Those who take have power over those who abide.

And it was right then that I decided a few things in my own life.

First, it was then that we decided we were done with Vancouver. True, property crime can (and does) happen anywhere, but the attitude that followed it seemed uniquely disturbing and accepting of it in Vancouver. It was a “join the club” type response, we received. Another cost of living expense that I was unwilling to pay.

Second, my faith in the politico-justice system took one of it’s first hard knocks. If I equate that faith to a metaphorical tripod, one could say that one of the legs had been kicked out. It was the start. It was the first stab at something I had held with absolute faith — and subsequent observations of the political and economic climate of the world have severely weakened the remaining two legs.

In the last few months I’ve been patiently observing the new proposed copyright legislation for Canada being pushed by the increasingly corporate theocracy we call our elected Federal government. And, after a long night of reading even more information yesterday evening, I think another of those legs on my so-called tripod of faith has finally given out.

I sent out ten letters this morning to various levels and branches of government. The core of that letter: “By supporting such legislation you are effectively supporting a form of digital prohibition and branding a generation of media consumers as criminals, letting the door swing wide for American-style litigation against individuals who are using the technology they already own, the media they have and will purchase, in ways that they are currently free to do.” Because in a world where I move my music to a computer or an iPod for lack of a portable CD player, record-delay television shows so I can spend time with my daughter and still have something resembling a normal life, back-up valuable media collections for personal peace of mind, blog in parody about passing fancies and topics of public concern, and enjoy numerous other digital conveniences and creative outlets for which I have paid and adapted my life, I am soon to be tagged a criminal for doing so.

Interpret the law how you will, but our rights are about to be throttled by a technologically illiterate ruling class who are essentially equating the life-altering impacts of a break-and-enter burglary with the act of recording a television show.

I’m standing on the one remaining leg, shaky and fragile, and if a single careless law is passed, all faith will be gone. I will be a criminal for simply existing, so I don’t see as it matters anymore. Revolution is at hand.