Bill C-11 on online streaming: “sold” to Québec as a promoter of its culture while a tool for eventual censorship for Canadians?

Bambi is much interested by Bill C-11 because it can be used for online censorship by a government that is becoming increasingly authoritarian in a society where cancel culture stories, whether self-imposed or external, are spreading like mushrooms. The recent history of this blog is just one of them.

First, what is Bill C-11? According to the Parliament of Canada website, it is “an Act to amend the Broadcasting Act and to make related and consequential amendments to other Acts” (

Of note, the Justice Centre for Constitutional Freedoms has been warning us about the potential slippery slope of Bill C-11 since May 24, 2022 ( According to the latter, “the Online Streaming Act (OSA) is a significant and dangerous first step towards government control of the internet. The stated purpose of the OSA is not particularly controversial“: Indeed who is against bringing the “influential streaming services like Netflix, Disney, and Spotify under the authority of the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC)”?

According to the Justice Centre for Constitutional Freedoms (, “the OSA would give the CRTC new powers to regulate virtually any online streaming service, also known as a “platform.” It would also regulate audio or audiovisual content accessible in Canada on such a platform“.

Perhaps the most worrisome part of this bill is that “sections of the OSA create loopholes that would leave space for CRTC to regulate podcasts and videos“. Indeed, Law professor Michael Geist (University of Ottawa) has argued that the CRTC can “regulate everything“, that is “from podcasts to TikTok videos as a “program” (

Bearing the above in mind, Bambi has been keeping an eye on the tweets of Mr. Yves-François Blanchet for a while now to check his reactions to this bill. In her mind, he is a decent politician, whether we see the relevance of his party in Ottawa or not. Indeed, his is a great defender of Québec’s interests at the federal level. Ironically, many provinces/territories can at times benefit from his positions (sometimes not, of course).

As shown at the bottom of this post, and as you can see in Bambi’s quick translation of his public words, Mr. Blanchet does not seem to be impressed by the Conservative Party of Canada‘s criticisms of Bill C-11. Indeed, he is too driven by the cultural interests of Québec (good for the latter!) to the point of accusing the official opposition party of what looks like unfair intentions toward Québec.

Once again, Mr. Trudeau’s minority government has the NDP party to back it, to keep it in power, and to pass potentially controversial acts like Bill C-11. With the latter, the feds seem to have the moral sympathy and support of Mr. Blanchet and his great team, including Mr. Jean-Denis Gagnon (Mirabel, QC) who recently challenged a colleague from the Conservative Party of Canada to name three of the most famous francophone artists of Québec :). Seriously, his idea was to know if they truly know the culture of Québec that they pretend to defend and love.

However, with all due respect to Québec’s most beautiful culture [Bambi has been teased as being “an Ambassador” of her original province. Hello Fred :)], Bambi is convinced that online freedom of expression deserves to be vigorously defended, in our two official languages, ACROSS Canada. This being said, to really know if there would be practical excesses or abuses of Bill C-11, one must live long enough. To be continued…

There is something extraordinary (especially hypocritical) in the demonization that the Conservatives are doing (along with their hordes stunned by demagogy who prowl on social networks) with the bill on broadcasting (C-11): They do not care about Québec and about the truth.

“Je suis malade”: An eternal song about a heartbreak, across generations and beyond death

Thank you Mr. Serge Lama
for your masterpiece…

A heartbreak is a universal theme to which most, if not everyone (including deer), can relate to in one way or in another. Indeed, Bambi had an earlier post on this topic, shown at the end of this one.

Thankfully, our world includes inspiring artists to compose music, write poetry, song lyrics, and plays on themes like breakups. Thank Goodness too, our world is made more beautiful with singers who have fabulous-sounding voices. Through them, music can magically transport us to different times and/or places. It can transform us and even heal us, in addition to entertaining us. Is there anything more powerful than music in life?

Well, according to Bambi, one of of the most powerful French songs about heartbreaks is “Je suis malade” [I am sick]. The latter was written by Mr. Serge Lama (French singer and songwriter), with Ms. Alice Dona, for Dalida. This song was made even more famous later, thanks to Ms. Lara Fabian… and today it is being honoured again by Mr. Alexis Carlier, as you can see below.

First, if you wish, you may listen to Ms. Lara Fabian’s amazing performance with English sub-titles, for your convenience.

Second, Bambi will invite you to take a few moment to listen to the most recent “short” video by Mr. Alexis Carlier who was feautured in an older post shared further below. Isn’t he fantastic?

Last but not least, the cherry on the cake of this musical post will be a performance between the GREAT Mr. Lama himself with the late YET eternal Dalida. Bambi hopes you will enjoy this performance as well.

Ms. Céline Dion: Happy Birthday!

Ms. Céline Dion, you have been on Bambi’s mind since December 9, 2022 (post shown further below).

In about three hours from now, it will be March 30 in Atlantic Canada.

March 30 is your birthday!

Bambi would like to wish you a happy one, hoping you are doing well; as good as possible under the circumstances.

May you have a Beautiful Birthday. May you have a wonderful time with your children and loved ones!

Thank you for having been a source of inspiration with your voice, talent, authenticity, sense of family and people, discipline, drive, perspective in life, and your humble attitude despite your monumental international success.

“Notre chère Céline, c’est à ton tour de te laisser parler d’amour” ❤️!

Happy Birthday Ray!

There are SAD and disturbing news from out of Toronto’s TTC (or subway), from American schools (yet again), and from around the world. Violence and senseless losses of innocent lives. However, in the middle of the darkness, there is a light… it seems to be coming from the candles of a birthday cake. YES, it is your own cake, dearest Ray :). Happy Birthday to you from Bambi and her spouse who love you beyond words and across the miles 🙂 ❤️ ❤️!

“La Voix” [“The Voice”]: Bravo to Ms. Christa Maria Abou Akl!

Bambi is grateful to her friend Kemle ❤️ for sharing a YouTube video of a much talented twenty-year-old artist from Québec, Canada, who happens to be of Lebanese origins. Her name is Ms. Christa Maria Abu Akl!

Ms. Abu Akl made it to the quarter-final of “La Voix” [The Voice in Québec]! She sang in both French and Arabic. She also played the piano. In her performance shared with you below, she merged two beautiful songs, one by Mr. Enrico Macias and the other by Fairouz. Both song are related to a homeland, or birth country, left behind by a migrant.

Of note, the musical arrangements are composed by Ms. Abu Akl herself, as Corneille (her coach) explained to the audience after her performance. This requires an excellent technical mastery, he added. Bravo to her for the latter and for being the first candidate to sing in Arabic in La Voix, as he reported.

Ms. Maria Christa Abu Akl, you have a purely beautiful voice, which naturally bridges the east and west in your music. You are a skilled pianist, a talented singer, and an inspiring performer. In addition to ALL your fans in Québec and beyond, you have touched the heart of a deer in New Brunswick who will be cheering for you, from now on AND, surely, after the life of this TV show. Regardless of the outcome of La Voix, you seem to have the necessary ingredients to go far in your musical career. Indeed, you seem to have the voice, talent, creativity, courage, hard work/diligence, ambition, a nice attitude, and the support of your loved ones. Bravo and best wishes to you!

May Ms Abu Akl have a long, bright musical career ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ !

Picture of the day: Lebanon’s two time zones fiasco

A picture taken from L’Orient Le Jour

One song goes with this picture, which is interpreted by a talented singer called Ms. Carole Aoun. The song is about the unity of the Lebanese people. It comes from a famous play by the Rahbani Brothers entitled “Sayf 840″ [“Summer of 840″]. This refers to the year 1840 where Lebanese Lords joined forces in a revolution against the Ottoman Empire in order to fight corruption and unfairness. The lyrics of this song are powerful and they go as follows:

To my martyred friend

To my homeless people

We will meet again

We will unite again

This is my promise to you, my imprisoned people”.

Tiny Lebanon: “Diversity” in daylight saving time, does it make any sense?

Bambi called her parents this morning to check on them.

Well, she learned about the latest saga in her country of birth.

Luckily she learned about this public “fight” before reading her sister’s tweet as she would have thought that tiny Lebanon (10, 452 km2) is huge Canada with its numerous time zones :).

First, what is happening in Lebanon’s caretaker government today? The Prime Minister there unilaterally announced a decision “that took many by surprise“, according to l’Orient Today. It was “adopted almost unilaterally, after an almost surreal discussion between caretaker Prime Minister Najib Mikati and House Speaker Nabih Berri” (

As a response, “TV channels, media outlets announce they will not abide by decision to postpone daylight savings shift” (

Furthermore (, local network operators have asked their mobile phone customers to adjust their settings, disabling the automatic time function; (to avoid automatic time change today at midnight.

In addition, one may wonder how will this decision affects other business sectors, including those related to travels or those relying on computers (provided they have access to power!)?

Bambi’s sister is a journalist and here is her tweet in French followed by an English translation:

The above means: A fake country, a real problem. If the four institutions where I currently work adopt different times at midnight, like all the companies of the country, I will have serious conflicting schedules, which will be hard to manage”.

Roula’s tweet makes sense, especially if we recall that the start of daylight savings (in countries where it is observed) can affect people’s sleep, attention, and even memory from hours to up to a few days, that is until their brains’ circadian rhythms re-adjust.

Mmm, it would be interesting to conduct a study on Lebanese people now to see how this variation in daylight saving times will affect their internal circadian clock and, consequently, their circadian rhythms. The latter literally means about 24 hours (roughly about a day or “circa diem” in Latin). It refers to daily cycles of sleep and wakefulness as well as hormonal activity, and other bodily processes like hunger/ digestion, etc. Talking about digestion, hunger and different time changes, what will practically happen in the context of adjustment time to Ramadan in those who happen to be observant Muslims? Which time will they be following in their spirituality and most importantly in their jobs, if they still have one that can afford to pay them?

Anyhow, given the no-unity with regard to time, let’s put the latter aside for a few minutes. Yes, let’s resort to music to find a resemblance of unity in the Lebanese national anthem: “All for the nation” [“Koulouna Lil Watan”] and in a famous song to its capital. Yes, how about ending this post with two masterpieces of the Philokalia Choir, conducted by Ms. S. Marana Saad (who seems to be a nun), with Lebanese Orchestra Byblos?

The first song is the anthem of Lebanon, as mentioned above. The second is the famous song Li Beirut, based on Mr. Nizzar Kabbani’s poem. The latter gives Bambi goosebumps every time she has listened to it since it was released at the height of civil war and, more recently, following the Beirut surrealistic yet unaccountable port explosion.

To conclude this post, after listening to the talent below, reading l’Orient Today‘s article and Ms. Roula Azar-Douglas’ tweet, and beyond the current saga, Bambi could not help not to wonder once again: Why is Lebanon ruled by “idiots” (the same morally, financially, and intellectually corrupt warlords), with all due respect to everyone, which is none? Why is it not led by talented people like most of its creative and highly resilient citizens?

Corneille: Happy Birthday!

Corneille is both inspiring and talented!

We are lucky to have Corneille among our great Canadian singers-song writers!

He sings in both official languages and his songs are beautiful.

He brings both smiles and peace to our faces despite “coming from far away” like his inspiring song “Parce qu’on vient de loin” ( An English translation of its powerful lyrics follows the Youtube video (taken from:

May the memory of his assassinated Rwandan family, in front of his OWN eyes, be eternal. May God bless his resilient and peaceful heart, own beautiful family, and great musical talent. Selfishly, Bambi wants more of it!

Happy Birthday to Corneille, born on March 24, 1977 (Freiburg, Germany )❤️!

Because we come from far away

We are our own fathers

So young yet so old

Makes me think… you know

We are our own mothers

So young and so serious

But it’s going to change

We spend our time

Making up plans for tomorrow

While the weather

Is going by, leaving us empty and doubtful

We lose too much time

Sweating, grazing our hands

What’s the point of it if we’re not sure to see tomorrow ?

– Nothing


So we live every day as if it was the last one

And you’d do the same if only you knew

How many times the end of the world came close to us

So we live every day as if it was the last one

Because we come from far away

But when times are hard

We think, worse than our story can’t exist

And when the winter is long

We merely reflect heat will come back to us

And that’s easy in this way

Day after day

We can see how much everything is short-lived

So even with love

I’ll love every Queen as if she was the last one

The air is too heavy

When you only live with prayers

As for me, I [savour] every moment

Much before

The light goes out


Day after day

We can see how short-lived everything is

So let’s live while we can still do it


(chorus x2).

Cherry blossom season through the eyes of Rita!

Bambi is blessed to have old and close friends who are like family to her.

Rita is one of them. It is hard to find words to introduce this friend to you, but Bambi will give it a try.

Rita is full of talent at so many levels. Bambi is both inspired by and proud of her. Indeed, she is smart and highly efficient while being a critical thinker. She has a rich philosophy of life, an authentic perspective on society, and a good sense of humour. She is also highly educated. In addition to her devotion to her lovely family as well as her inspiring career (in two different countries), she keeps impressing Bambi with her art creations and highly productive hobbies. Among her numerous other skills is her mastery of languages, including her beautiful French. She writes elegantly with beautifully chosen words and with much lucidity and a refreshing honesty.

All this being said, Rita has a precious quality in life: she is humble. Yet Bambi managed to convince her to accept to share with us part of her talent, appreciation of nature, and writing!

Let’s start with a picture Bambi received yesterday night from her friend with a funny note saying: “Spring is here!

The cherry flowers are made by Rita herself

Bambi was much impressed by Rita’s new piece of art inspired by the cherry blossom season in Washington, DC. Bravo to her!

Following a brief interaction about spring and nature’s beauty, Rita shared another picture taken from the following source:

A picture of the cherry blossom peak by Mr. David Coleman
(taken from:

Is there anything more beautiful and uplifting to the soul than the above?

Bambi was deeply touched as this picture reminded her of a DEAR friend in Japan [hello Bente :)] and of another UNFORGETTABLE one in heaven (the eternal Firas who inspired Bambi’s blog!).

The beauty of Japan through the eyes of Bente” is the title of an older Bambi’s post show at the very end of this one.

A picture of Firas (Serge) Merhi taken in Washington.
Bambi got it from Firas’ blog postmortem.

To come back to Rita now, she is generous. Indeed, she helped Bambi find a musical melody to go with the current post. She chose for us Dalida’s song “Le temps des fleurs” [“Flower Time“], which Bambi happens to adore.

Merci “Ratrout” (= “Little or cute Rita” :)). OK that was a Lebanese-style teasing!

Following the musical part of this post, it is now the the time to share with you Rita’s own writing. Many thanks for her generosity!

Bambi will first share her original French text, which she wrote a while ago. She will then conclude with a quick English translation of this text, thanks to the faithful and efficient, Mr. Google Translate.

If you happen to be a nature lover, a migrant or a new resident of such a lovely city or just a fan of the French language, you will adore Rita’s original writing piece! Its English translation also shows its depth and authenticity.

Rita’s text is about a specific moment in time in her adjustment journey to her new love (the beautiful Washington DC, and by extension, United States of America) in the magical cherry blossom season. It is also a time of mixed, and even negative, yet genuine feelings toward a birth country she left behind a few years ago.

Let’s call the above a sort of a love-hate relationship: A story of strong attachment calling for much detachment (LOVE) and of deep disappointment (HATE).

Let’s name Lebanon, which its diaspora around the world feels for it and is eager to see it finally rise (yet again!) from its ashes… into a brighter, and truly sustainable, politcal and economic future, which is free of corruption and of identity-based divisiveness, whether with or without external malicious interferences.

OK, Bambi will stop here to end this post with our linguistic “dessert”. Yes, she is referring to your beautiful text, dear Rita. BRAVO to you and thanks again for having accepted to generously share it. Please keep writing!

Original French

Je suis plus concernée par la relation entre la vitesse du vent et l’état des trottoirs de Washington DC que par la situation libanaise.

Les arbres de DC sont ma nouvelle patrie.

Ils me consolent, me bercent, m’enchantent et leurs couleurs me coupent le souffle à l’automne.

Les dates du début des saisons sont inutiles dans ce pays. On devine les saisons par le feuillage, foliage en anglais, quel joli mot. Folie et âge, âge et folie.

L’automne passe vite à cause de cette saloperie de vent. Le vent fait voler le foliage, qui tourne un peu dans l’air, virevolte avant de tomber et former des reflets de ces arbres à leur propre pied comme si la ville flottait sur l’eau.

En Novembre, à la fête de l’indépendance précisément, c’est l’époque à laquelle les tapis sont ressortis au Liban pour être dépoussiérés, dé-naphtalinisés, suspendus sur les murailles et frappés avec de vielles raquettes de tennis sur les balcons des immeubles qui prennent soudain des looks persans ou turques. Très belle technique d’ailleurs qui a inspiré des pratiques innovantes de vol de tapis. Il y a un groupe pour qui cette saison est très lucrative, les professionnels ouvrent des boutiques de nettoyage de tapis mais les plus créatifs ont inventé une technique très simple qui consiste à nouer une laisse autour du cou d’un chat et de balancer le chat en l’air dans une trajectoire parallèle et à quelques centimètres du tapis convoité, le chat terrorisé se retourne et s’agrippe toutes griffes dehors au tapis et le mec tire le chat et le tapis avec, balance le tout dans sa camionnette et file à grande vitesse dans les rues sans arbres du Liban.

La promenade à Georgetown en automne, trottoirs recouverts de feuilles aux couleurs flamboyantes, me rappelle la sensation voluptueuse des premiers pas sur les tapis fraichement posés sur le sol glacial de notre appartement à Beyrouth. Quel dommage qu’il n’y ait pas d’équivalent en français au verbe to tread.

Quand il ne reste plus aucune feuille sur aucune branche d’aucun arbre des rues et des parcs de DC, c’est l’hiver.

L’hiver que je détestais au Liban et que j’adore ici. L’élégance révélée de la ville dénudée de tous ses ornements. Des lignes infinies de troncs d’arbres robustes et noirs qui marquent les perspectives de la ville, montent en s’effilant pour former des nuages de branches noires étonnement fines et faussement fragiles. Il n’y a pas de métaphore, les arbres sont des poumons. Et quand il neige, une ligne blanche se dessine au-dessus de chacune de ces lignes noires qui voudrait bien la porter.

Soudain, se produit le miracle des cerisiers en fleurs. La nuance de rose la plus claire qui puisse exister sur le marron le plus foncé que l’on puisse imaginer. Aucune feuille n’a encore osé se former par ce froid, aucune autre couleur ne vient déranger ce contraste éblouissant. Une fleur d’une fragilité indescriptible sortie de ce bois d’ébène dur et hermétique. C’est là que naissent toutes les métaphores.

Le printemps arrive dans la plus claire des teintes de vert, presque du jaune qui se fonce à mesure qu’il pousse. Et la chaleur du vert recouvre la ville jusqu’à l’automne suivant.

L’été qui fut ma saison préférée toute ma vie n’existe pas ici.

L’été des vacances, l’été des retrouvailles, l’été de la séduction, l’été des histoires.

Il n’y a pas d’été sans mer.

Mais la mer était polluée, je ne le savais pas, ou je refusais de le croire.

Depuis un moment, j’essaie de comprendre, d’analyser pourquoi des larmes me montent aux yeux à chaque fois que j’entends l’hymne nationale américaine et l’indifférence pour l’hymne libanaise. C’est à la lecture des deux textes que j’ai compris.

Rien n’unit les libanais, le Liban n’existe pas. « Koullouna » est une fiction et les mots « land » et « home » me font pleurer comme une orpheline.

Ça fait plus de cinq ans que je n’ai pas vu la mer. 69 mois. 2,110 jours. Le pire c’est que je ne veux plus la voir”.


“I am more concerned with the relationship between wind speed and the state of the sidewalks in Washington DC than with the Lebanese situation.

DC trees are my new home.

They console me, rock me, enchant me and their colours take my breath away in the fall.

The dates of the beginning of the seasons are useless in this country. We guess the seasons by the foliage, foliage in English, what a pretty word. Madness and age, age and madness.

Autumn passes quickly because of this damn wind. The wind makes the foliage fly, which turns a little in the air, twirls before falling and forming reflections of these trees at their own feet as if the city were floating on water.

In November, precisely on Independence Day, is the time when carpets are brought out in Lebanon to be dusted, freed of mothballs, hung on the walls and beaten with old tennis rackets on the balconies of buildings that suddenly take on Persian or Turkish looks. A very nice technique by the way which has inspired innovative practices of carpet theft. This season is very lucrative, for the professionals who open carpet cleaning shops. The more creative ones have invented a very simple technique, which consists of tying a leash around a cat’s neck and swinging the cat in the air in a parallel trajectory a few centimeters from the coveted rug. The terrified cat turns around and clings to the rug with its claws out and then the thief pulls the cat and the rug with it, throws everything into his van and goes at high speed through the treeless streets of Lebanon.

Strolling through Georgetown in the fall, sidewalks covered with flamboyantly colored leaves, reminds me of the voluptuous sensation of the first steps on the freshly laid carpets on the freezing floor of our apartment in Beirut. What a pity that there is no equivalent in French to the verb to tread.

When there’s no leaf left on any branch of any tree in DC’s streets and parks, it’s winter.

The winter that I hated in Lebanon and that I love here. The revealed elegance of the city stripped of all its ornaments. Infinite lines of sturdy black tree trunks that mark the perspectives of the city, tapering upwards to form clouds of surprisingly thin and deceptively fragile black branches. There is no metaphor, trees are lungs. And when it snows, a white line is drawn above each of these black lines that would like to carry it.

Suddenly, the miracle of the cherry blossoms occurs. The lightest shade of pink that can exist on the darkest brown imaginable. No leaf has yet dared to form in this cold, no other color disturbs this dazzling contrast. A flower of indescribable fragility emerging from this hard and hermetic ebony wood. This is where all metaphors are born.

Spring arrives in the lightest shades of green, almost yellow that darkens as it grows. And the warmth of green covers the city until the following autumn.

The summer that was my favorite season all my life does not exist here.

The summer of holidays, the summer of reunions, the summer of seduction, the summer of stories.

There is no summer without sea.

But the sea was polluted, I didn’t know it, or I refused to believe it.

For a while, I have been trying to understand, to analyze why tears come to my eyes every time I hear the American national anthem and the indifference to the Lebanese anthem. It was after reading the two texts that I understood.

Nothing unites the Lebanese, Lebanon does not exist. “Koullouna” is fiction and the words “land” and “home” make me cry like an orphan.

It’s been more than five years since I’ve seen the sea. 69 months. 2,110 days. The worst part is that I don’t want to see it anymore”.

Ramadan “kareem”!

My friend, the moon, told me that Ramadan will begin tomorrow!

The religion of Islam follows a lunar calendar, which consists of twelve months, including Ramadan (the holy ninth month). One must see a crescent moon to officially announce the start of Ramadan.

If Bambi gets it right, tomorrow, March 23, will be the very first day of Ramadan, which many (healthy) Muslims around the world highlight during daylight time in fasting (i.e., no eating, no drinking) and in abstinence from smoking and from sex to be more “zen” or to achieve “taqwa”, which means “consciousness of God” in English (

This being said, Bambi would like to wish all her readers, relatives, friends, and fellow citizens who celebrate Ramadan a blessed one. May it be as smooth as possible. May it be as spiritually rewarding, socially cheerful (in the evenings!), and generous as possible!

Sadly, in many parts of the world, including Lebanon, citizens are struggling with hyperinflation and increasing poverty. Just to provide a couple of examples, Bambi learned today that the salary of Lebanese army retirees is US$40 per month ONLY ( Furthermore, the “Fattouche” Lebanese salad’s price, which many usually eat daily at “Iftar” (dinner) during Ramadan, has tripled since the previous Ramadan.

Anyhow, to end this post of good wishes on a positive and lighter note, Bambi will stop here in order to share three moon-related songs in English, French, and Arabic (subtitled in English). Best wishes again to all the observant Muslims!