The driving experience in Toronto is a snapshot into the inner state of the great progressive experiment that is being heaved onto our heads by our irresponsible leaders. My observations are personal anecdotes, and completely distant from the standards of journalism and Global Warming science.
Being crafty, I live only a twenty minute drive from my place of work. I never have to take the major highways (401, DVP, 427, …) on my morning commute to work, nor on my afternoon return home. Ha ha, I have it easy! Not so. Since starting this commute, some six months ago, I count the number of driving infractions I see.
In Toronto, it is rare for a driver to signal lane changes or turns. From experience I watch their wheels to second guess where the progressive driver wishes to go. Every day for the last six months I have counted at least one failure to signal. Big deal you say. Indeed. Just drive on the defensive.
At night, the number of my fellow drivers who drive without headlights, without running lights, runs to one every two to three days. On one special occasion, there were two head lightless drivers. Big deal you say. Toronto is filled with street lights. Who needs head lights? For that matter, drivers in the progressive urban setting like to drive with their high beams on. This happens, oh, at least twice a week. And every day there are those with a headlight, signal, or tail light just not working.
In the early morning, before sunrise, the streets of Toronto have their share of joggers and cyclists. Even in winter. Joggers like to run on the road, with their backs to traffic, and wearing trendy black sports gear. This is the standard, not the exception. People walking dogs, though, they use the sidewalk. I have yet to see a cyclist who uses hand signals to indicate turns. The majority of cyclists will run stop signs and red traffic lights. They do not even slow down to give the illusion that they are aware of the peril they place themselves and others in. When the sun rises, the jogger and cyclist behavior is the same.
The Danforth is notorious for drivers driving backwards down the street.
Let us park. Anywhere. One may complain about the choked streets, sluggish commutes, and inexplicable delays. The Toronto driver is a scofflaw who thinks nothing of standing, stopping, or parking in Do Not Park zones. Delivery trucks will stop to deliver in dedicated right turn lanes … just check out St.Clair West any old day. Toronto has no parking during rush hour zones. Usually filled with parked cars. You can count them. I do. At least one a day; the record is seven.
Who cares? I know I don’t. I assume my fellow Toronto drivers are scofflaws. I expect them to turn left on red lights, barrel through stop signs, and open their doors in traffic. Let the other drivers, cell phone distracted, to plow into them. Let Darwin do his job, I say. Let the night joggers in black get plowed under by some darkened car. Let the cyclists get crunched by a door, squished by a left signal, right turn combination driver, or just crushed by a cell phone chatterer. I drive with caution, I drive slow, and I drive undistracted. You do the same. But what of all that money, that confiscated income, taken by the state to provide services? Is there not a constabulary responsible for enforcing the Highway Traffic Act? Some sort of impediment to the left turn on red light tribe, a watch dog to deter distracted drivers, an enforcer of parking laws? In my youth, the dominant white male patriarchy frequently pulled over wayward white devils for missing signal lights, rolling stops, and mid intersection parking. Today, are they asleep? Or just too busy with diversity seminars, and too wise to mess with the victims of the legacy of racism for fear of facing some hissing, spitting progressive white guilt slurper?
These transgressions occur daily, frequently, and across a short time frame. Do the math. If this is only a one hour slice of a narrow reality, then what is going on in the greater Toronto? The Toronto driver is a scofflaw, the roads are a death trap for the unwary, and the constabulary are career wisely avoiding confrontation in preference for the warmer classroom of bullshit meetings. Of course, I could complain to The Authorities. Sure. I could collect license plate numbers, makes and models. Sure. That would work. Do you think it would work? Do you think it would work to modify human behavior, make the streets safer, and generally bring about the rainbow utopia where unicorns roam free. My money is on silence. I will drive slow and cautious. Let Darwin do his job. Darwin works, and he is free. Traveller, be warned.
I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this. I care.