Category: Summer 2002

Christie Blatchford lives in a 105-year-old house near the eastern fringe of Toronto’s Little Italy, where the right half of her bedroom functions as a small home office. Hanging over an old wooden desk, where her Macintosh PowerBook G3 lies, is a pencil sketch of a judge watching a man give his testimony. The judge… Continue reading Trial by Journalist

FADE IN-int. movie theatre Amid a cluster of teenaged contest winners sits a group of middle-aged men with pens in hand. They are lined up along the aisle so as not to elbow anyone while they scratch away at notepads. ZOOM IN-on right side of room Blue light flickers across the men’s faces in a strobe-like effect… Continue reading O Critic, Where Art Thou?

The small staff at This magazine have kicked it into high gear, as usual, but it’s not really evident from the noise level. Other than the rapid hammering of computer keys, an occasional sneeze, and a random phone call, the staff-editor Julie Crysler, associate publisher Joyce Byrne and an intern are quietly plugging away on an issue… Continue reading Standing on Guard for THIS

Tucked into the corner of a green-and-yellow-walled Mexican restaurant, James Chatto, Toronto Life‘s multi-award nominated food columnist, is the picture of grey England: black pants, black shirt, black-and-white tweed blazer, salt-and-pepper hair. His small black notebook is concealed under a rather large menu and he furiously scribbles, recording every ingredient in the three appetizers, three mains,… Continue reading Reviewer du Jour

Kevin Smith stays close to the action. He hovers unobtrusively near the black-clad activists and watches intently while one anarchist shatters a McDonald’s window and another is tackled by riot police. It’s a chilly Friday in mid-November, and more than 500 protesters have gathered in downtown Ottawa for the first day of demonstrations against the… Continue reading Fuck Corporate Media. We Want the Truth