In 2006 the province of Nova Scotia reserved 300 acres of land northwest of Sydney Mines, Cape Breton for the development of a spaceport. PlanetSpace, a London, Ontario company founded to exploit NASA's switch to commercial launch and catch an anticipated boom in space tourism, claimed it could build the spaceport for $200 million, and have a spacecraft flying by 2009. The argument in favour of Cape Breton was that it was northerly enough to compete with Baikonur, and far enough from population centres that falling debris wouldn't be a bother.
Well, the government of Nova Scotia never saw a get rich scheme it didn't want to buy into. But above and beyond the fantasy budget figures and timetable, there were two major problems with this concept. One, the ground around Sydney Mines is a honeycomb of old mineshafts. They've been digging coal there since the 18th century. The forces involved in space launches would have led to subsidence and maybe even fire. The other is that Cape Breton is right underneath the eastward trail of jet airliners traveling from the US to Europe. The population you're trying to stay clear of would be right there above your head.
PlanetSpace failed to secure a NASA contract. It held its last annual meeting in 2010, and was unincorporated by the Canadian government in 2013. To date no tourist has gone into space except aboard Soyuz, which was available before. But the dream lives on.
You must have often read about the fierce controversy roused by the Ballot Act, and the mixed praise and blame it brought its proposer; yet today the merits of the act have won the unanimous approval of the Senate. On the day of the recent elections everyone demanded voting-papers, for on the last occasions when we had publicly recorded our votes aloud we had certainly exceeded the disorders of the people's assemblies. No regard was paid to a time-limit in speaking, to the courtesy of not interrupting, nor even the propriety of remaining seated. On all sides rose the din of opposing cries: everyone rushed forward with his candidate and crowds mingled with small groups of people in the centre of the floor in disgraceful confusion. So far had we departed from our parents' procedure, where everything was calmly conducted in a restrained and orderly manner so as to maintain the honour and dignity of the House.
There are still some of the older generation living who have often told me about their election procedure: the name of the candidate was read out and received in complete silence, after which he spoke on his own behalf, gave an account of his career and produced references to his character, either the commanding officer under whom he had served in the army or the governor whose questor he had been, and both if he could. He then called upon some of the electors supporting his candidature, who said a few sober words in his favour which carried more weight than entreaties. Sometimes the candidate would raise objections to his opponent's origin, age or character, and the Senate would hear him with strict attention. The result was that merit prevailed more often than mere popularity. But now that these practices have broken down through excessive personal influence, recourse was had to the secret ballot as a remedy, and, being a new and unaccustomed measure, for the time being it has proved successful. Yet I am afraid that as time goes on the remedy will breed its own abuses, with the risk of wanton irresponsibility finding a way in. Very few people are as scrupulously honest in secret as in public, and many are influenced by public opinion but scarcely anyone by conscience. It is too soon, though, to speak of the future; for the moment, thanks to the written vote, we are going to elect our public officials from the candidates who best deserve the honour. We have been called upon to pronounce an opinion in our elections with no more warning than is given at a summary trial, and have shown ourselves uncorrupted.
To Maesius Maximus
I told you in my last letter that there was a risk of the secret ballot's leading to abuses, and this has already happened. At the recent election some of the voting papers were found to have jokes and obscenities scribbled on them, and on one the names of the candidates were replaced by those of their sponsors. This incensed the Senate and members clamoured for the wrath of the Emperor to be visited on the culprit; but he kept quiet and undetected -- he may even have joined in the general indignation. If this man can play such ribbald tricks in an important matter on a serious occasion, and thinks the Senate is the place where he can pass for a nimble wit and a fine fellow, what are we to suppose his personal conduct can be? This is the confidence unprincipled characters derive from the assurance that 'No one will know'. This man could ask for a voting-paper, take a pen, and bend his head to write, with neither fear of anyone nor any self-respect. The result was that ribaldry fit for nothing but the vulgar stage. Where is one to turn in search of a remedy? Everywhere the disease has gone too far to be checked. 'But this will concern the power above' whose daily task of vigilance is greatly increased by the futile impudence in our midst which we cannot control.
The Letters of the Younger Pliny (translation Radice), pages 106-7 and 129-30.
The Mounties have a list of about 1200 aboriginal women who have been classed as homicide victims or missing persons. Prime Minister Stephen Harper has publicly given the matter a big shrug. At his house they're more concerned about homeless cats. So cartoonist Evan Munday has started a portrait-a-day drawing project in honour of the missing and mudered women. Above is Maggie Lea Burke who has not been seen since 2004. We live in a visual culture; artists can do a lot to move this issue to the forefront of public consciousness. You can follow Munday on twitter or visit his blog. (Via Sequential.)
A blog named Plenty of Nothing is admittedly not the ideal place for a post about missing persons, but it's better than silence. This issue is decidely not plenty of nothing, and is indeed more important than most things most Canadians talk about most of the time.
Le Directeur Général des élections du Québec reminds everyone in its report on the April 7, 2014 election that the government of Québec still has its own ideas about the boundary with the province of Newfoundland and Labrador. Labrador Boundary Dispute. The area north of the dotted line, a chunk of the St Lawrence watershed about half the size of Nova Scotia, is seen folded into the electoral district of Duplessis (which was won by the PQ's Richard Lorraine by 359 votes.) In the Newfoundland legislature most of the area is part of the Lake Melville electoral district and is represented by Keith Russell of the Progressive Conservatives. For the sake of economy the Postmedia newspapers used this map in their election coverage, though editorially they would deride the land claim. But it was a strange election for newspapers.
Cowdenbeath used to be a coalmining town, and was also one of the red hot centres of Marxist ideology in the UK. Lawrence Storione operated a Communist bookstore in Cowdenbeath around World War One, and had five children, named Annie, Germinal, Libertie, Autonomie and Anarchie. Source.
Morton visit Cowdenbeath for a midweek evening game. Morton seriously seriously seriously must win today. Seriously.
Every Championship club is in action this evening. [Cowdenbeath win 3 - 0. The best Morton can finish is seventh.]