War, huh, yeah!
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothing other than creating an awesome Big, uhh!
War, ebony heartthrob Edwin Starr once sang, should be despised as it means the destruction of innocent lives. But war was also the inspiration for these remarkable Toy Soldiers, so I guess it’s not all bad.
Officially known as Monument to the War of 1812, these sexy servicemen have turned the once-peaceful streets of Toronto into a battleground, and serve as a commentary of the infamous scuffle between the Yanks and the Poms.
Canadian creative Douglas Coupland fashioned the piece after realising Southern Canadians (or Americans, as they like to be referred to these days) don’t mind rewriting history.
“I’ve grown up and a lot of people have grown up thinking ‘Oh, Americans lost that one didn’t they?”‘ Coupland (Digital Orca; dozens of other artworks that aren’t oversized objects and so are of no interest to anyone) gabbled during the shrine’s unveiling in 2008.
“But once I began getting involved in the project and doing research, I began noticing that the Americans are now starting to change history and they’re saying, ‘Well actually we won that,’ or, ‘Actually, we didn’t lose’ or whatever.
“So it’s a war monument but it’s also an incitement for people to remember what’s going on in the present as well as the past.”
Plus, they look really cool!
Love is a battlefield
Big Things are usually peaceful, contemplative creatures (with the obvious exception of Canada’s other giant toy soldier), so it was heartbreaking to find these two at each other’s throats. I mean, you’re hardly likely to see Pat the Dog curb stomping Bruno the Peacock, are you?
Pleading with them to put their differences – and their bayonets – to one side in the name of love, I assured them that we’re all the same colour on the inside. It was a lie, because I’m all red and bloody and full of guts, and they’re made of off-white styrofoam, but I was willing to say anything to stop the fracas.
I cradled the boys in my arms. Asked about their hopes and fears. Massaged their ceremonial bonnets. Normally I love a man in uniform, but this display of toxic masculinity was just too much. Nothing could stem the tide of unrestrained, bestial brutality.
Unfortunately, bringing an end to war was too much for even me. Oh well, I might as well cancel my lunch with Vlad Putin and Volo Zelenskyy.
