Winnipeg's best Kenny G impersonator recently announced that activist Glenda Whiteman will soon be flying into a rage.

I guess that's one way to look at city entomologist Taz Stuart's recent announcement that the city would probably begin malathion fogging in the near future.

Whiteman, you'll remember, is the sometimes-rabid woman who has in the past been arrested by police while trying to stop fogging equipment from leaving city yards.

I vividly remember her looking pretty bad while screaming at the top of her lungs as the cops stuffed her into a cruiser during a protest a few years ago, and I couldn't help but think that she was doing a disservice to her cause.

Whiteman and the anti-fogging movement came off badly on TV, just as Critical Mass cyclists came off badly when the Winnipeg Free Press irresponsibly ran a one-sided story last year under the headline "Critical Mass riders block ambulance."

My own research showed that the cyclists did no such thing, and I realized then how easy it is for mainstream media to discredit contrarian views or actions with a little ignorance, a few carefully chosen words and some footage of an activist looking like a mad beast.

With that in mind I moved past the images of Whiteman's violent arrest and started thinking about pesticide use.

I sprayed chemicals while I was a student, and I never really liked it. I felt a bit uneasy about spraying Kill It All or whatever it's called, and I couldn't help but think about what the murderous little droplets were doing to my lungs on a windy day.

That said, I like a lawn that looks like a putting green, and I like to be able to enjoy our brief summer without slapping mosquitoes all fucking night.

In the past I've even made brash statements about how the city should just nuke the bugs so I can enjoy some rye on my porch, and I've said some disrespectful things about the 'sandal-wearing tree huggers in Wolseley,' mostly while scratching bites on my ankles and shins with the end of a beer bottle.

Consider this an apology to those people - I just really hate mosquito bites and really love a summer night.

But I also admire the fact that an entire neighbourhood will band together to tell the city exactly where it can cram its chemicals. I like watching people stand up to authority, because those people are going to come in really handy someday, and dissenting voices get people thinking and reconsidering and doing all the things humans should do on a regular basis if they want to remain human.

All this was running through my mind a couple of weeks ago as I stood in Home Depot's napalm-death chemical section. I had a weed problem, but I also had real moral dilemma on my hands. Avoiding the issue for a moment, I wandered over to the garden centre, a place I often visit when the bastards are grinding me down.

Standing among the hanging baskets and potted ferns and wild grasses and cedars and geraniums and sunflowers, I realized that the answer was pretty clear:

If nature can push its way through my asphalt, perhaps it deserves to be there more than the asphalt.

Mike Warkentin still makes the occasional joke about Wolseley residents.