Simply put, this weekend in Toronto was horrible on every level. All of the events that transpired need to be examined with critical eyes — from residents, elected officials, and the media — in order for the city to come to grips with the scars left behind by the G20 Summit. I've pulled together a few questions any Torontonian should ask their elected officials. WHY TORONTO? Violent protests at G8 and G20 summits are as common as breathing air, so why would any federal government official think it would be a good idea to hold this event in any Canadian city? Mayor David Miller clearly stated that he did not want the summit held in the city as did many other local politicians. But Foreign Affairs Minister Lawrence Cannon has said the summit was a chance to showcase Toronto and Canada. "These are marketing techniques that have been put forward by our best people to be able to showcase Canada, and that's what we all want. We want to be proud of what Canada represents and what we can do." So what did the delegates and foreign media get to see on their visit to Toronto? Not the vast array of cultural activities available downtown. Not the amazing restaurants we offer on King and Queen streets. Not the vibrant neighbourhoods and local businesses that operate so close to the core. None of the delegates got to see a city that prides itself on tolerance and diversity. When an event like this forces downtown residents to flee the city,  no foreign television crew or intrepid newspaper reporter will have a chance to discover the true spirit of this city.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Spacing's Nicole McIsaac spent time Saturday at the rallies downtown; here are some of her observations. WHOSE STREETS? THEIR STREETS Contrary to the popular chant of “Whose streets? Our streets,” ringing through the air at random times throughout the weekend, heavy police presence made it obvious that even the “designated free-speech area” wasn’t meant as a place to gather. In fact, anywhere downtown wasn’t an acceptable place to gather. Instead of actual stand-offs, most people simply dispersed. People being boxed in as police tactically surrounded them asked simply “How are we supposed to leave?” or “Is this where you tear gas us?” Sometimes these questions provoked chants of “peaceful protest,” or a multitude of other reminders such as, “The whole world is watching.” I know it’s not just me here who’s cringing, and like you I spent time this weekend following both mainstream media and Twitter feeds of journalists and people on the ground. I hope that, in the coming days, looped footage of broken windows and unattended police cars being set on fire is replaced by reports from groups of people who were simply there. As I write, this has been the crime of many who police have detained — they were there, they were assembled and they were robbed of that right.

Dale Duncan is a former editor of Spacing. The opinions expressed in this article represent her personal views on this weekend's events. Leading up to the G20 summit, at meetings organized to provide local residents and business owners with information about what to expect, police and politicians reminded those in attendance of our right to assemble and demonstrate in public spaces. The vast majority of people who joined demonstrations yesterday did so peacefully. But what people are most likely to remember about this summit is the much smaller group of militant thugs who decided it would be a good idea to set police cars on fire and smash the windows of stores and banks. There's no question that those who vandalized our city should be stopped and held accountable to their actions, but, now, it seems that the average citizen’s right to peacefully protest in Toronto is being treated as though it’s a criminal act. Sadly, it’s the aggression exhibited by the police — not the so-called Black Bloc — that have instilled fear in many members of the general public who witnessed some of the events of this weekend. Some are commending the police for showing restraint yesterday; I witnessed some of that restraint. I went for a walk to Yonge Street in the afternoon and, by chance, happened upon the vandals who were out breaking storefront windows. As I watched people march by, my heart pounding and my mouth agape, there seemed to be no police in sight. With all the money spent on security this weekend in Toronto —"the biggest security operation ever in Canada" — I don’t understand why the police weren’t able to stop these criminals from continuing to smash windows all the way up Yonge and then West along College.

Toronto writer Helen Spitzer was at the pre-NXNE show at the CN Tower, where she met musicians and music fans who see Toronto in new and surprising ways. Here's her dispatch from atop the city. My day this past Wednesday began with turning down a free Porter flight to Montreal, and ended with a magnificent night of rock at the top of the CN Tower in Toronto. Truthfully, I could have used a mid-week fling with another city to refresh my love of this one, but rock shows at the tower are a rare and legendary occurrence: witness Spiritualized’s “highest show ever” back in 1997. I missed that moment. Sticking around offered me another chance to be part of music history in this city. Like a lot of the wide-eyed music fans in the Horizons lounge at the un-rock hour of 6 o’clock, I am as giddy about the unfettered view of Toronto as I am about the bands playing: spunky new arrivals the Balconies; Manotick-via-Montreal’s Hollerado and veteran locals the Meligrove Band. It is glorious to be ushered through the mercifully short security line and past a gaggle of 40 eight-year olds to the designated show elevator — the only one looking directly out over Lake Ontario. “Enjoy the view,” smiles our young operator, clearly pleased that the staid tower is busting loose for the night. “My elevator is the best one.” I enjoy her sense of ownership of the elevator, and her obvious pride. She doesn’t regard the tower as pompous and uncool, like my friends and I did in our 20s. Our elevator operator is of the generation of the Lit-Up Tower. The show itself is symbolic of the current generation taking on Toronto on their own terms. The tower they grew up with is not the dorky, over-hyped symbol of my 80s childhood. In their Toronto, the tower is part of the backdrop, just one of many things that make the city something you want to explore. When the CN Tower began to light up three years ago, it was reflecting back this new wave of city-love. Look around, it suggested. Get hungry, discover more. Stop apologizing.

In a clear case of hero worship gone haywire, hundreds of people are presently camped out on sidewalks surrounding MuchMusic’s headquarters at Queen and John streets. The line begins on the southeast corner and runs south to Richmond, then wraps around the building and snakes all the way to St. Patrick Street, where I just talked to two girls who told me they are in 836th and 837th place. Yes, it’s that time of year again: the MuchMusic Video Awards air live from the station’s parking lot on June 20, and ...

The following is a reprint of my recent psychogeography column in Eye Weekly on cycling in Toronto. As columns go, it was near the top in terms of the number of responses I received regarding it (via Twitter, in person, etc) and by far (20 to 1, thereabouts) they were supportive remarks. I mention this only because it supports my feeling that for a long time people who cycled felt they weren't allowed to talk about bad cyclist behavior or object to bad cycling politics publicly. Ignoring both of those things undermines all efforts towards better cycling conditions in Toronto. If you, bicyclist, have ever given thought to bike culture in Toronto and perhaps wished for more bike lanes or bike infrastructure, a safer ride or just more respect on the street, you are political and should behave in a manner that will further your political aims. If you don’t care about any of that, keep riding happily into oblivion. But if you care, everything you do on a bike is a political move, whether you like it or not, and whether it seems fair or not. Cycling culture in Toronto is in what another columnist in this magazine might call a “quarterlife crisis.” It’s rich and robust, sure, but it’s still got an often-awkward  relationship with the rest of the city and isn’t 100 per cent grown up. Cycling for anything other than recreation is still a fairly radical and foreign idea for a big chunk of the city’s population: it’s something people do in China or Amsterdam, not Toronto.

Spacing's next issue will be hitting the newsstands in late June. It's only coincidental that our cover section will focus on the theme of "Public Spectacle" at the same time as the notorious G20 meetings will be held in Toronto. On June 26 and 27, a portion of downtown Toronto will become a pseudo-police state with Red Zones, Designated Free Speech Areas, and ID cards to come and go from your home if you live in the core of the city. But the inconveniences of the summit will have a ripple effect far outside the no-go zones. A quick scan of Google News aggregator gives us a good indication of what to expect: the Toronto FC match at BMO Field on the CNE grounds will create traffic chaos; protesters confined to Trinity Bellwoods Park will leave a mess and disrupt the park's weekend usage by residents; and practice hostage rescues are freaking out weekend workers in the Financial District. I'm starting to get the impression that Prime Minister Stephen Harper gave Toronto the G20 Summit as punishment to the urban voters who don't seem to like his party's policies.

I am fascinated by signs on our streets. This fascination, though, often leads me to frustration in Toronto. A case in point is the use of the sign Please Drive Slowly accompanied by an image of a turtle; it may be the most ridiculous piece of metal in use by the City's transportation department. It is often found around schools or in sleepy neighbourhoods where kids can be found playing near the street or where there is a hospital or retirement home. The example shown above — found at College and St. George on the edge of the University of Toronto's downtown campus — is a glaring example of Toronto's unflinching obsession with rules and signage (not to mention signage clutter, as seen by a second group of signs tucked in behind the turtle). The speed here drops to 30km/hr, which makes sense with all the pedestrian traffic flowing in and out of buildings of the St. George campus. But is this the best way to indicate to a driver that they should slow down? I'd say no. Can a single and much better designed sign do the trick instead of three? That would be an emphatic yes. The turtle sign, no matter how charming or cute, really has no place on our roads. A driver does not have time to examine the detailed image of the turtle to figure out what it is (if the sign-makers *really* needed to use a turtle a pictograph or silhouette would be more ideal). In a multicultural city like Toronto does a turtle represent slowness to most people? And with a warning sign that clearly states TRAFFIC CALMING ZONE, isn't the turtle image just redundant? And what about the typography? An italicized version of the font Cooper — or some knock-off version — can only be described as a very poor choice.

WHAT: Spacing's spring 2010 issue release party WHEN: Wednesday, March 31, 8pm-12am WHERE: El Mocambo 464 Spadina Ave., just south of College Ave. HOW MUCH: $10 (gets a new mag), or $5 for subscribers RSVP: if you're on Facebook feel free to tell us if you're coming Come celebrate the release of our new issue at the legendary El Mocambo. As usual, we'll have music and activities to entertain you and back issues of the magazine, buttons, and t-shirts for sale. If you want to see a larger version of our cover, check it out on our ...

The following is a reprint of my recent Psychogeography column in Eye Weekly. Photo by Smaku. Toronto is a city of neighbourhoods, we’re told. When they work well, they feel like a small town and, when they work really well, we might feel like Al Waxman in the opening credits of the King of Kensington, walking down the street like we own it. That’s all fine, but it gives us a false sense of the size of the city. Sometimes it’s good to be reminded of just how big Toronto is. Try standing over an expressway. Anytime is good, but late afternoon when the rush is at its peak is best. The bottom of Dufferin over the Gardiner, right before the Canadian National Exhibition arch, is good, as is the top of Avenue Road where the 12 lanes of the 401 have been called the busiest road in North America. Every second, dozens of individual people pass by, each going to an individual home, some filled with more individuals, each with their own network of friends and coworkers. It’s a web that doesn’t stop growing, and watching the traffic and thinking this way gets overwhelming fast. Where do all these cars park? How many pairs of pants does everybody own? The numbers add up meaninglessly high. Another rush-hour place to feel this more intimately is the Union Station basement at 4:45pm on any weekday. Try standing still in the middle of the thousands of GO Train passengers. It’s like a flash-flood mudslide and, if you don’t watch out, you’ll be swept up and taken away to Pickering or Newmarket. The mental aggregate of all this is confounding — we can see all these people, but it’s hard to know where they fit into “the city we know.” It’s too much.