(Photo by Pierre Pavlovic on Unsplash)

IF YOU HAPPEN to be riding through Montrose tonight, you might see a little white candle burning in the front window of a yellow-brick bungalow. That'll be me.

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ANYONE EVEN PASSIVELY on the periphery of politics today has no doubt heard of the pervasiveness of cancel culture in today's society. Millionaire pundits, senators and celebrities congregate nightly on the most-watched news shows to never stop talking about how they are being silenced, while stridently bemoaning their lot as society's new muzzled minority.

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I LIKE HOUSES but not house parties. I think it's because I'm bad with people but good at putting up walls. But now that the pandemic has forced me to spend an entire year pacing like a laconic labradoodle inside the walls of my home-turn-well-appointed-penal-institution, I'd do anything the hear my withdrawn walls reverberate with the chatter of the handful of friends I've kept in touch with over the past year.

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