On chipped shoulders and The Darkside

And turning right on reds

Here is a polished version of your piece, cleaned up for publication while keeping your distinct voice, sharp local edge, and rhythm intact:

My city is Dartmouth, Nova Scotia.

Misty nights resound with the sound of the horn at the mouth of the harbour. Dartmouth looks best in the fog. Everything softens and looks out of time—almost as though the landscape were painted by a French impressionist.

Founded by Cornwallis in 1750, Halifax is our neighbour across the harbour.

We know ourselves as “The City of Lakes,” with over 19 lakes within the old city limits.

I say “old city limits” because “Dartmouth” is no more. We are no longer a legal entity.

If you lookup Dartmouth, you’ll find that we’re now legally part of the Halifax Regional Municipality.

For the people of Dartmouth, this action was not welcome. Imagine your bigger neighbour deciding that, nope, you don’t get to be independent anymore. You’ve always been a part of us, and it’s only destiny that we thrive together under one name.

There are some who think it’s great. For the last decade or so, Haligonian invaders have been arriving, seeking out cheap real estate and large lots.

With them, they’ve brought shitty politicians, speed bumps, bike lanes, and bump-outs.

Once upon a time, there were 40 firefighters on shift in Dartmouth 24 hours per day, with one person working in HR from Monday to Friday.

Now?

There are 36 firefighters working in Dartmouth 24 hours per day, and over thirty people working in HR for the fire department from Monday till Friday, from 9 till 5.

Incredible, eh? Fighting fires has become less complicated and dangerous—requiring a 10% reduction in staff—while being human has become so much more complicated that the HR department grew faster and more bloated than a Texan who’s run out of Ozempic.

I, for one, feel much safer knowing that during regular business hours, an HR director of inclusivity is keeping us safe from burning alive.

And with so many in HR, we can all sleep well at night knowing a safety committee meets regularly to discuss procedures for rescuing cats from trees.

We used to be able to turn right on red lights. Now, thanks to a similar increase in the size of the so-called “planning” department, we can’t turn right on red lights, and cyclists are being segregated to their own dedicated spaces.

They ran into some trouble in the planning department a while back when some of the red lights started self-identifying as green lights and stop signs thought they were cabbages.

And all of this joy results in a 10% property tax increase this year.

And I blame the people with a peninsula: Halifax.

You see, dear reader, the people on the peninsula think they are better than Dartmouth.

Historically, Halifax is the management, white-collar, old-money, and professional side of the harbour. Dartmouth is its scrappy, blue-collar, edgy neighbour.

When it comes to hating Halifax, the list of grievances is long, accurate, and legitimate.

But it can best be summed up by the following story:

Halifax received street lighting and electrical power two full years before they had it in Dartmouth. When guests would visit Halifax, they’d look across the harbour and ask, “What’s over there?”

And the “good people” of Halifax would say, “Oh, you don’t want to go there, that’s the Darkside, that’s the Darkness.”

And that nickname?

It has stuck ever since.

In the end?

No matter where you live, there’s always some arsehole neighbour.

They say it’s foolish to live your life with a chip on your shoulder.

Sure.

I guess that’s true enough.

And?

Remarkable Fools?

We take that chip on our shoulder, clean it off, polish it up, and use it as a display case for spectacular grievances that stand as sullen monuments to the underdogs—the oft-forgotten and unappreciated, the working people who know how to actually do stuff and allow soft-handed number-diddlers to live off their efforts.

So, to all of you fools with a chip on your shoulder?

Build a shrine to your resentment and take aim at that posh, arrogant neighbour with pride.

Most of all, though?

Lean into the Darkside.

Discover its power and set yourself free.