I drove across the Burlington Skyway the other day; the first really hot and humid day of the summer. The sailboats were out on Hamilton harbour, and as I drove up the long slope of the bridge I could see the other thing which defines Hamilton in my mind: the visible layer of brown haze trapped between the escarpment and the steel mills. I’ve always loved the sailboats, but it’s the smog that says “Hamilton” to me.
I find myself doing these posts on Hamilton because the situation is evolving — or rather devolving — on a day-to-day basis. When last I wrote about this, on Friday, there was a glimmer of hope. Ceder Hopperton was waiting on the decision as to whether they’d violated their parole, and police had admitted that the only objectionable action they’d taken was to speak at a public meeting; surely justice would prevail and Hopperton would be freed.
Continue reading “Cui Bono?”