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Two weeks ago, Billie Pierre — a Nlaka’Pamux woman and founder of Redwire magazine — arrived in the capital to give a talk at Camas Books.
Hey, remember that time the Victoria Electronic Music Festival degenerated into a wild, vicious mob and proceeded to set the capital ablaze for weeks on end? Yeah, me neither.
Quietly, slowly, but surely, something is slipping away from us here in the capital.
When I spoke to CRD Chair Geoff Young a few weeks ago, he very eloquently outlined the need for our Juan De Fuca issues to be exorcised in the open, preferably including the public along the way.
It’s not often that we in the capital bother to compare ourselves to Toronto, and it’s probably even less often that we come out on top in that comparison.
It’s night. Late. Do you know where your activists are?
Man, I ordered some awesome stuff a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, the Canadian Union of Postal Workers decided to go on strike, leaving me to live with the limited supply of cool T-shirts I have now.
The CRD recently sat down to vote on the fate of Ender Ilkay’s controversial proposal to build around 260 vacation cabins next to the Juan De Fuca trail.
Two weeks ago, I was talking to the operators of Kale Corner about their experience with the City of Victoria as they fought to save the Capital’s newest community garden.
I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Small town amateur journalists don’t get a lot of fan mail.
Off the top of my head, I can count 12 boulevard gardens in my neighbourhood.
Politics is pretty high-level this month. Most of the major polls are busy taking bets on the provincial election or the HST referendum.
I was going to write a column about parking, so I did my homework.
Four years and four months. That is how long we’ve been dealing with the fallout from the province’s decision to remove hundreds of hectares of land in the Juan de Fuca (JdF) area from the tree farm license system.
Amalgamation is a vicious and terrifying word in the Capital, whispered only in dark corners of municipal halls — feared, loved and hated in a thousand new ways with each new day.
It must be nice to own a logging company.
In the middle of the night, with no warning at all, pedestrian infrastructure was savagely attacked by a gang of bike riding anarchists known to authorities only as the Other Urban Repair Squad (OURS).