Our local suburban newspaper editor has served Hamilton the biggest double whopper to date: "us suburbanites are just pieces of meat for the ravenous lords of downtown."
In his continuing attempts to further polarize our city, he brings to us his wisdom on city planning, by insulting the intelligence of both the urban and suburban residents alike in one sentence: "The victorious amalgamation generals seized dowries from their bastard cousins."
One can only assume that his self-deprecation here is an attempt to invoke mass hysteria among the people who have chosen to live in the suburbs for no particular political or ideological affiliations, but mostly to provide a safe[r] place to raise children and grow some equity.
By turning a site-selection process, already set to polarize the community in the way it was handled from the outset, into a community-baiting sport, our sprawl activist brings forth the idea of a battle: "the foot soldiers of another downtown revitalization house of cards are coming out in full force to prop up a losing proposal."
Rather than help resolve a bad situation, he splits Hamiltonians into two camps - the urban and the suburban - and boldly paints those on the side of sustainability as the ones with "disdain" for suburban life; yet many who support the downtown stadium location actually live in the suburbs.
In an attempt to be analytical, he chooses to dwell into the origins of word suburban. Raring to bring forth wisdom, he dives straight into surgery before he has even attempted to discover the roots. Hence the "double" size serving of the whopper!
Suburbs, he proclaims, were the place where people in old England who were considered to have a lesser status lived: "The serfs if you will".
History, however, very clearly tells us that suburbs even back then (not to be mistaken for our stick-frame sprawl or the suburbs of developing economies) were places where the wealthy in old England retreated to get away from the chaos and din of urban life.
It was and continues to be in the downtown of smaller old North American cities where the less privileged (the serfs if you will) spend their summers.
Our property seems to me the most beautiful in the world. It is so close to Babylon that we enjoy all the advantages of the city, and yet when we come home we stay away from all the noise and dust.
-- Letter from an early suburbanite to the king of Persia in 539 BCE, written in cuneiform on a clay tablet
The bar on Hamilton journalism just got lowered. Instead of attempting to place things in a historical context to diffuse the trauma this community is experiencing, our old media stalwart pushes the community to the brink of chaos.
Viva La Cripps! Viva La Sprawl!
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