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Making Waves

What's with Inukshuks?

By Mariane McLeod

Can someone please tell me what the deal is with the Inukshuks?

Seriously.

All I want to do when I see the ubiquitous little statues that now litter the sides of highways all over Ontario is kick 'em over and scatter their rocks back to where they belong.

At one point, the inukshuck was a little marvel to us in +?G??-?the south+?G??G??, an easily-replicated piece of ephemera from the tundra.

Now, they're only a fraction less annoying than graffiti, which first of all takes a little skill, especially if you're writing upside down on an overpass.

Secondly, at least whoever spray painted their love+?G??G??s name on the overpasses of yore could claim their 'art'.

What is there to say if you are the 'creator' of one of these hundreds of statues?

You'd be hard pressed to know which one is yours, and your fans would have the same trouble, especially at 120 kilometres an hour along the 400 between Barrie and Sudbury.

From where I sit, each of them is indistinguishable from the other.

I hear there's plenty of them up the road to Tobermory, too.

They serve no purpose, point no one to anything and declare nothing but that their creators had are few minutes on their hands on their way through.

Am I missing something? 

I'm Mariane McLeod.

 


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