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on this day last year a man I don't know died cycling in my neighborhood

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-eight years and a million words

Toronto, 2019.05.16

Like me, Doug Crosbie was a cyclist and a father. He died when a truck made a right turn from westbound Dundas onto Jones. It's a route I rode twice later that same day, and that I've used for my daily cycle commute. Our streets are crowded and our bike lanes–like the one that Mr. Crosbie rode that day–are too often just a line of paint.

41 pedestrians and cyclists died in traffic-related collisions last year. We can do better Toronto!

traffic injuries to May
traffic injuries to May (2019)

This map shows the site and nature of pedestrian and cyclist injuries in the city to date. Too many dots.

rand()m quote

Immature poets imitate mature poets steal bad poets deface what they take and good poets make it into something better or at least something different. The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique utterly different than that from which it is torn the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion. A good poet will usually borrow from authors remote in time or alien in language or diverse in interest.

—T.S. Eliot