Colony of Losers- Fuck Stigma and Mental Illness, I'm like 25

Surviving your Quarter Life Crisis and becoming an adult

Why I wanted to punch out a cameraman

Posted on | November 21, 2013 | 19 Comments

I debated leaving this at an angry tweet.

Writing it wasn’t easy. Some of my clothes still smell like the fire. Some of the images began as words written on a white screen and became memories I have to tear from my mind. I couldn’t do this yesterday because I was crying too much. You know the type of tears where you aren’t thinking about what makes you sad. You’ve become tiny inside your own emotion and you can fight it or go down gracefully. So helpless you are barely human. But today I’m angry. About the people who filmed us.

I contemplated my own experience as a journalist and all the things I learned at school.  I know that it’s hard to get a job in the news media today when people are being laid off left and right. And then my request for an apology went unanswered. Then when I couldn’t sleep as I watched the video. And the rage was too uncontrollable to keep to myself.

And I decided I’d say this.

Many of you are probably aware that my house burned down.  That one of the people in my house didn’t get out safely and may or may not live. I don’t know the answer to this because the media moved on too quickly to keep us informed about what was happening to her. They moved on too quickly to offer us anything other than images of the worst moments in my life.

From friends and family and my community I’ve received incredible support. I can say that it means the world. That it shows me truly how much love I have in my life. And I feel like I’ve been given a second chance to do it right. Which is true. Every fiber of my being wants to be alive and is grateful for the chance to be so.

I can’t really get around how this situation is a tragedy and not a life lesson. Someone just as deserving of a happy life is at best facing a horrible road ahead.

I can’t tell you how surreal it felt to hear my roommate yelling that we had to leave the house.  There was something in his voice that said there was no alternative but to get out as quickly as possible. Adrenaline rushed and autopilot Michael Kimber took hold.

Pants were necessary. Socks were necessary but there wasn’t time. I could already smell the smoke and was trying to figure out what it was. It was  making its way through the house vents with a smell of burnt tires. It would leave holes in the walls.

Suddenly we were on the street and there was a bizarre feeling of being in a fire drill without properly dressing first. Shivering in a button up denim shirt and jeans covered in mustard.  A certainty I would be able to sleep in my own bed in record time. That this was a surreal nightmare that would be over in minutes and I’d be able to laugh about it.

Only there was the sound of someone beating on our backdoor.  Fists flying so hard they could be heard as we made our exit.  So loud they’ll never leave my thoughts.

But we were outside. Lucky. Alive. Maybe they were trying to warn us. Maybe everything was still okay.

Only it wasn’t. Someone was in the alleyway. Someone whose fists could have beaten in the door if given a few more seconds.

Then I heard my basement neighbor yelling for us to call 911.

This wasn’t like my rooommate Evan calling for us to get out of the house. This is a tone you probably can’t relate to because you rarely get to hear it in real life. The type of sound that exists only in the worst situations where vocal chords stretch, hearts break and minds are pushed past the point of no return. When life or death is a question in your voice and you can’t change the pitch of your voice because everything inside of you is shaking, every safe place in your mind is already on fire.

The windows in the alleyway were barred and too small for a human to squeeze out of.

I grabbed a snowshovel and used the hand grip to smash through the glass.

Inside it was bright orange red. Like something that shouldn’t exist in real life, a work of special effects. Smoke came out like burnt Santa Claus beard.

Our neighbor’s girlfriend was still inside. Her boyfriend screamed for her to wake up. To get out of the house. I didn’t hear a response. I joined in the shouting.

“You have to get out of there. You have to get out.”

My German roommate passed us all of his important belongings in the world frantically collected and stuffed in his backpack. Then he tried to help.  He went to our back door and kicked it open in an attempt to grab the fire extinguisher. He couldn’t get inside. There was already too much smoke.

We called him back. We couldn’t lose him.

Evan called out and told us 911 said we shouldn’t attempt to rescue her.

Again I can’t really explain how this feels.

What it means to wait to find out whether someone in your home is going to live or die.

And I truly can’t imagine what it felt like for her boyfriend. Because I have never made those sounds before. Because I’ve never been so close to losing so much. I can only relate in those seconds I have during the day where I imagine if things had gone differently. If any of the people I knew and loved were in that basement. And I couldn’t do anything to help. Where I shouted until I could barely speak into a window where no one replied.

Within minutes the firemen had arrived. With us yelling where they needed to go.

Holding our downstairs basement neighbour as he screamed, wept and screamed. Going from standing up with his hands pointing to the sky to prayer on his knees.

And then it happened.

Cameramen had shown up.

My first request was polite or as polite as I could be under those circumstances.

“Don’t film this.”

No response. The lens captured us holding our screaming neighbor as he wept and begged for something to be done. My Mexican roommate in my overlarge winter coat. Tears falling down our faces like shattered glass as we tried to keep control over the overwhelming misery slipping into our chests with the smoke. Taking turns holding him. Letting him go when we could feel that touch was breaking him. Holding him again when he needed it. Listening to him and not being able to hear the words.

Assuring him it was going to be okay and knowing we were lying.

We all knew we had lost most everything we owned. Barely clothed. Missing shoes.  Coats. In the freezing temperature as smoke poured from our home where we were happy. Where we found eachother and became family.  The location where Toronto lived and breathed for us. Where so many happy memories became pavement without shoes, cold without jackets, and the sound of our neighbor begging for life for the woman he loved more than anything.

And he had it so much worse.

And they filmed us.

Anything to keep you watching. The easiest approach to a story. Show the pain.

He said nothing to me.

And then something cracked in me. Call it my heart’s limit. Call it a knowledge of journalistic ethics that says there are more important things than a story. That no one should see their son alive and dying a thousand deaths with every inhalation.

“Turn the camera away from him or I break it and then I break you,” I think I said. Maybe there were more swear words.

No response.

I tried to cover the lens. And then he said, “Don’t.” No emotion.

I replied with more curse words. You can’t put cursing on the news.

I may have indicated that he had one more chance before he saw what was going on inside. Before he understood what humans pushed to the very limit of their comprehension of human horror can teach you about being a gentleman. My Mexican roommate moved in the immensity of my winter jacket to add her own choice words, displaying some English she’d learned in her years in Canada where she had made a home.

No response. Not even in his eyes. Just firm hands and a desire to protect his camera.

A policeman blocked us. Told me to stop. They weren’t breaking any laws. The street was public property. The world was allowed to see this. Just not the swearing.

“Stop,” said the policeman. “You have to.”

And I did. And when I couldn’t sleep I could look at the footage. Of the happiest home I ever lived in burning. Of my neighbour’s girlfriend as they revived her on the scene. And then nothing. No reports on how she was doing.

A new story was up.  Because they are advertisments that pay salaries. They knew our trauma would prevent you from switching the channel. It was a human interest story without an attention span. Once the pretty pictures were finished there was no interest in the people left behind. There was no interest in what we felt even as we waited to see if she would escape the blaze.

It could have been my parents who watched me taken from the house. My life or death depended on two minutes and a warning screamed my roommate Evan. I could have been the one losing my mind as my best friends fought to breath amidst the smoke and fire that looked like the very mouth of hell.

I know that you don’t understand what it was like. My words aren’t powerful enough to do that. You can tell me I should be glad to be alive and I am. But love can’t take those images out of my mind or the sound of his fists beating against the door.

Journalists are better than this.

Don’t think for a second you helped us. Don’t think for a second you helped anyone but your company which sends you to find the pain, feel the pulse and go before the tears dry on our cheeks.

I will take care of the shattered pieces of the people I love. We will build from this and be a family bonded together by a million good jokes, by hugs, tears and survival.

At the worst moment of our lives you hurt us.  You denied us basic dignity. For a story. Please contemplate why your desire for human interest stories placed no interest in our humanity.



19 Responses to “Why I wanted to punch out a cameraman”

  1. Tracey Lucas
    November 21st, 2013 @ 11:23 pm

    I am so sorry Michael. Glad you’re ok. That reporter was a douche. Sorry.

  2. Erin
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 4:08 pm

    This is the most powerful and most important piece I have ever read. Michael, I am so sorry. In this day and age, when everyone has a video camera in their pocket, this message of yours has never been more important to share. I will share it in every way I know how to. We’ve never met but I am thinking of you and your friends SO much right now. Thank you for writing this post, as hard as it was to do. Thank you. ♥

  3. Cameraman
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 5:53 pm

    You’re a Journalist? I can’t believe a Journalist would be so out of touch with reality. You need to do something else for a living.

    I was one of four camera operators on scene at the fire. This is our job. We have all been doing it for many years. This is how we feed our families. We take pride on our work. We strive to be the best that we can be and hopefully this allows us to keep our jobs.

    Are you the first who has been offended or upset by our presence? No you are not and you will not be the last. I know it is very emotional for those closest to the events we cover but we do our jobs all the same. When people hurl insults at us and threaten us with violence we watch our backs and keep gathering news. If they strike out, as the sometimes do, we have them arrested for assault. Nobody has the right to strike out in violence under the law.

    The follow up from the fire investigator was that the basement apartment was not legal, as it did not have a secondary means of escape in the event of a fire. He was also looking into the cause of the fire possibly being related to an overloaded electrical panel in the basement, supplying power to the whole building, including multiple kitchens, not what it was designed to do.

    Maybe these are the things you should be angry about. You live in a huge city with multiple media outlets. When tragedy strikes you can be assured the media, with cameras, pencils and notebooks will arrive quickly. They will ask tough questions that may upset some, but hopefully stories about houses with illegal units and improper fire escape route will save the lives of others down the road.

    Your writing has a very creative flair. Perhaps you would be best suited to writing fiction novels.

  4. admin
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 6:38 pm

    Maybe you should consider what you do to support your families. You didn’t ask tough questions. Watch the video you put up. Tell me the girls family needed to put that up. Tell me you did your jobs with any degree of humanity. As you pointed out the fire inspector is looking into it who actually has some degree of understanding of what actually happened and what needs to be done to address it. Tell me your reply shows any compassion. Tell me your bosses are going to be happy with you commenting on this. Enjoy your work while you have it. Though actually you didn’t have the guts to send a real email address. Because you’re a coward. Who says he is doing it to put food on his family. Like that is an explanation for breaching compassion.

  5. A Camera person’s reply to my story on the inhumanity of the media after the fire that consumed my home : Colony of Losers- Fuck Stigma and Mental Illness, I'm like 25
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 9:30 pm

    [...] It was the worst moment of my life. You can read about it in more detail here: [...]

  6. Tom
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 10:19 pm

    Let me introduce myself as the CP24 camera operator.

    Firstly, before you jump to conclusions about who I am or what my motivations are, let me be clear, I’ve seen people in many situations, good and bad. I covered many stories, shot and wrote my own stand-ups, cut hundreds of hours of video, asked thousands of questions. I’ve seen joyful reunions, press conferences, international events, celebrations of life, but I’ve also seen the darker side of humanity.

    I’ve seen more people die in more ways than I can count, I’ve watched helplessly as men with mortal bullet wounds take their last breaths, knife wounds, and internal wounds from violent collisions, fire, smoke, water and self destructive actions, horrific misadventures and terrible yet simple accidents.

    Tragedy is part of life; it is a sad portion of the reality that is our world and bad things happen to people regardless of their socioeconomic class, status or position otherwise. There is no rhyme or reason, that’s just the way it is in the natural world.

    I don’t derive any pleasure, an adrenaline rush or other “symptom” from the loss of life, property and misfortune of others. I always hope for the best, never wishing the worst and if I can lend a helping hand I always do.

    Back in 2011, I was moments behind the Joplin tornado, I rushed to homes that were non-existent looking for life, vehicles that were no longer vehicles, I offered water to wandering souls still in shell shock like states, all this before reaching for my camera. Days earlier I found myself in the same position just on a much smaller scale as an EF5 tornado narrowly missed El Rino and destroyed the community of Piedmont, Oklahoma.

    Closer to home, I’ve knocked on doors as houses burned before emergency services arrived and before one frame of video was recorded to my camera, I’ve assisted police officers looking for criminals, those hurt in car accidents and offered shelter to a women fleeing from abusive partner begging for someone to call 911 in the street as taxis and others ignored the pleas for help.

    It is quick and easy for anyone to look at another who is documenting tragedy and pass judgement, to equate this individual with a vulture feasting on the sorrow of victims.

    In 2009 I recorded my neighbour’s home burning down in Vaughan, his three children and wife in tears as their entire life simply vanished before their eyes. Through a twist of fate, I was returning home to grab some gear I had forgotten when I passed through a wall of smoke and arrived on scene before fire crews were even called. It was extremely difficult, a tragedy in its truest form was now personalised on the home front.

    I apologized, but I also continued to do my job which meant documenting the drama unfolding. My neighbour was quick to pass judgement, there he was, his home burning and I was simply watching. Several hours later he approached me and apologized, I said “It’s okay, I understand, you can be angry because I would be angry too”. In his eyes, all along while his home was burning and he was helpless to do anything he vented all his anger and frustration towards me, as if I had hoped for this tragedy. He later realised he picked the obvious target and knew that I never received any joy, pleasure, admiration or pats on the back from editors, producers, writers or managers for getting the shot.

    It simply was what it was, the reality of the situation and everything my lens saw, was what the world knew, the visual truth of what occurred.

    In 2010, I was contacted by a mother grieving after losing her son to a terrible car accident in Brampton several months earlier. Again, I was on scene within a few moments of the crash and was helpless to do anything. Once my camera began rolling, it kept rolling. In industry terms, I overshot the story.

    This grieving mother went to great lengths to find out who I was and begged me to sit down with her, so I reluctantly did. She began showing me photos of her son, an individual who I watched die yet never knew. Again, I apologized to her and she stopped me mid sentence and said “you’re the only one who knows the truth”… I was somewhat shocked at that, but the official story was sugar coated as I found out, she “wanted the truth” she said clutching a cup of coffee trembling in her hands. I explained to her that I did not know why or how the crash occurred, and that the first responders did their best.

    There were delays due to powerlines near the vehicle and water complications, but I explained that whether they had been able to immediately get to the vehicle or were delayed, from my knowledge her son had suffered a major head injury and likely would not have survived either way. We went through numerous facets of the accident in great detail, and she said to me “I never knew these things on the news could happen [to me] in real life”.

    Regarding the Sherdian Ave fire, I was one of the first two shooters there and I believe your confusing City TV with CP24.

    Firstly, I never shot anyone grieving at the scene; this must have been City TV and secondly, your request to stop shooting is a personalisation of events. You may believe my desire was to keep shooting and I felt nothing towards you, no emotion which is fine, I don’t expect people to think I actually care because to them at the worst moments of their life I’m scum and all they want to do is protect themselves from any perceived harm.

    I heard all your words, the emotion, the pain and I understood your request to stop shooting, even when you were cursing, getting angry and your Mexican friend insisted that she put her hand on my lens hood. I did not push back, I did not comment, my one word was “don’t” when I felt threatened enough to exhibit a desire to guard myself and my gear.

    As the other shooter previously commented, you are not the first to feel such anger and make threats, even contemplate physical harm in order to stop me from recording. However those are choices you chose, I can’t control the individual and if you had proceeded to attack me then that is your choice.

    The reality of the situation was that there was a fire, and it was not an interpersonal experience, it involved the community, the emergency services and the TTC which spans the city. Serious questions about life, property and safety are raised as the fire marshall investigates

    My job, my duty, is to document the reality of the situation as best as I can. Beyond this, I have no editorial control over what content is exhibited when or how often. I can’t control when the story is written, what shots are used, they are the decisions of my superiors and colleagues.

    You may have issue with CP24 but please note this story also appeared on CFTO and CTV-TWO which have their own means of content representation. Also realise the CBC, City TV, Global and several still photographers for various papers were also on scene documenting the on goings.

    You can choose to point the finger at me as the source of your pain, but don’t single me out as the only one there, don’t think I’m the dominant figure salivating at the mouth to fulfill sensationalism and provide hyper realistic breathtaking scenes to a captivated viewing audience who see’s nothing but a desire for applause from my superiors.

    There are official channels for complaints, whether it’s about the format of news on television or the content therein, all of which I have no control over, but you as the consumer have total control over.

    I don’t ask for your forgiveness, I don’t ask for your respect, I only wish the best upon people and I hope you and your friend(s) recover fully from this tragedy.

  7. admin
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 10:23 pm

    Now that is the reply of a real human. Thank you. That means a lot.

  8. Tom
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 10:23 pm

    Regarding the comment from the poster titled “Cameraman” I cannot comment as to who that individual is, but I am the one your taking focus at, that response you’ve quoted as being mine, is not so please do not attribute it to me.

  9. Tom
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 10:30 pm


    I’m glad you respect and understand my post. From your profile photo, I believe I recognize you as one of the individual who was able to retrieve your belongings when fire crews allowed you back into the home.

    I understand this situation is difficult, and believe me, if I had editorial power I would truly do a follow up story.

    In fact, your post has elements of unsuspecting heroism and endeavor and grave tragedy, the type than can happen anywhere and stresses why fire codes and other elements as such are truly important.

    I would implore you to follow up this story with CP24, CFTO or any news agency of your choice to set the record right or at least make it more than the perceived sensationalism you see it to be.

  10. Mike
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 10:32 pm

    Cameraman –

    Why did you decide to reply to this? What could it possibly have gained? Did you think you were going to affect Michael’s point-of-view with your selfish bullshit?

    Let me help you here. I’m going to let you in on something. Pay attention. Here we go.

    Michael just lost everything he had in the world.

    Michael just escaped death. Barely.

    Still paying attention? I hope so. But whatever, right?

    Michael’s roommates – the exact same. One is CLINGING TO LIFE.

    Guess what all of this has to do with you and your poor hurt feelings?


    The fact that you chose to respond to this post, written by a HUMAN BEING in clear pain, mourning and confusion, with a novel about how hard your shitty job is, says all we need to know about you.

    You don’t care.

    That’s fine. You don’t care. You don’t pretend to care. You care about your terrible, soul-fucking career. That’s awesome.

    Just, y’know, keep that shit to yourself while others are venting about the horrible world we live in that allows tragedies like this to happen, and you to profit from them.

    In closing, just point your camera and shut the fuck up. Be the cog in the machine that you signed up for. Don’t try to connect with people.

    You are fucking terrible at it.

  11. admin
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 10:34 pm

    Yeah I got my computer and my medication. Not much else. Place isn’t really habitable right now and I think all my stuff is pretty gone. I actually had someone Facebook reply in a similar fashion to you. And I do respect how difficult it is. I think the practice of showing everything isn’t really helpful to anyone. In my reply to the negative letter I make this clear.

    Sorry for getting in your face and I’m pleased that you understand. Do you mind if I change your comment to Mexican friend? Just because you said fiend by accident.

  12. admin
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 10:36 pm

    Just to make clear Tom isn’t the one who left me that comment. Clearly it was another camera man. Their writing styles and thoughts are totally different.

  13. Tom
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 11:02 pm

    Yes please, you can change the comment to friend.

    “And I do respect how difficult it is. I think the practice of showing everything isn’t really helpful to anyone. In my reply to the negative letter I make this clear.”

    I understand, the idea behind shooting all of it is to provide the editors continuity and diversity so content can be filtered while still remaining true to events.

    The powers that be choose the shots, the story line, the script. If I’m at a scene, and all the media present have some shot and I don’t the question then becomes why not?

    This is why we shoot as much as we do and cover all the angles, it’s a requirement that all field camera operators adhere too. There are certainly cases against this such as yours, and other cases for it (e.g. where it benefits a court case if the video is summoned as evidence).

    It’s a complicated matter beyond the individual and requires a large open discourse among press groups.

  14. admin
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 11:17 pm

    I understand that. But ultimately it is incumbent on camera operators to set the example. They can’t show what you don’t shoot.

  15. admin
    November 23rd, 2013 @ 11:22 pm

    And I understand you have your reasons for what you do. And I don’t know what they are because they exist in your head. The truth is that you are the one who does the shooting. And tasteless pictures don’t exist without them being shot. Maybe your network should make the personal choice not to add to the human misery in situations which are already at their worst. The argument is that if you don’t have it, they’ll ask why. Maybe you can answer because I’m a human and we don’t need to sink to the level our competitors do. Maybe that makes your brand stick out for actually caring about the public.

  16. Jackie
    November 24th, 2013 @ 10:25 am

    I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am to hear of this tragedy in your life. I am not writing you to comment on the media aspect of this – which I thankfully can ‘t relate to – because I didn’t experience that. What I can relate to and feel 100% of your pain & complete devastation over, is losing my home & pretty well all of my belongings to a fire. I was home alone at the time with my dog when the fire broke out in the basement of our home. Thankfully I was able to get both of us out in time. The memory of the absolute terror – of running all around my house outside screaming, completely out of touch with reality & terrorized watching smoke & flames billowing out windows as they broke will never leave me. I can ‘t imagine having a loved one still being in the house. A fire is traumatizing beyond words & there is no way to describe what it’s like to watch your life, your home, your safe place, disappear in flames & smoke in front of you unless you’ve experienced it yourself. Due to the fact that I was dealing with serious & chronic depression, I lived with my parents & it was their home with a lifetime of memories that were lost. Their devastation…well enough said. Thankfully our love for each other as well as support & love from other family & friends & the recognition that the situation could have been so much worse got us through what will always remain a nightmare to me. Again Michael I ‘m so sorry you had to experience this and so much more than I did. My heart goes out to you, to your friends, & my prayers to your friend who did not make it out safely.
    Please know I’m thinking of you & your friends,

  17. Sean flynn
    November 24th, 2013 @ 2:08 pm

    Out of sight, out of mind. If the media isn’t allowed to cover fires anymore, the threat they pose won’t be as large in the minds of the public. Same for car accidents. It’s easy to forget how dangerous driving really is if you don’t see the results of car accidents. The RCMP actually shot a fictional car accident to show to high school kids to make them realize what can happen from irresponsible driving.
    So while everyone’ privacy is important, it’s also important the public gets a realistic depiction of the daily events in their community, even the terrible ones.
    Also, if the camerapeople were on a public street or sidewalk they have the right to film or photo whatever they want. It’s called living in a free society.

  18. admin
    November 24th, 2013 @ 2:18 pm

    I get that we live in a free society. Did I punch him? I yelled at him because that’s what we are allowed to do in a free society. When did I say the media couldn’t cover fires? I said some basic respect with what they film and what they put on the air. You think people have forgotten that fire is scary? What difference does it make if they show file footage? Do fires really look that different? And your point about the RCMP shooting a fictional video completely destroys your own point. The footage doesn’t have to be live in the face of victims. You can defend your right to do what you want. Recognize the consequences of said actions. I’m not alone in feeling harasssed, disrespected and victimized by the media. This is why people think less of the media. You aren’t defending any real freedom of press or privacy. Your defending that you like to take pictures for money.

  19. admin
    November 24th, 2013 @ 3:30 pm

    Once more I’d like to comment on the difference between legal and moral rights. You can laugh at an old woman falling down the stairs but should you? Is that what you’d want to have happen when you become an old lady and fall down the stairs? You don’t want the government looking through your private emails. What would you say if they made the most intimate moments of your life public? If they think they are protecting the public good they can access your emails without you noticing. But should they? I don’t see your porn preferences are considered sacroscant and your privacy when your house is on fire is considered up for grabs. If you want to not be yelled at learn how to become invisible. Give space to the victims. Think not first and foremost about how good your shots are going to look. I’m not saying the media is responsible for the fire. I’m saying they are responsible for acting callously and should take a serious look at their priorities. Which maybe you should also look at as you feel you need to comment on a deeply personal post and explain to me what living in a free society entails.

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    Michael Kimber is a 26-year-old journalist who suffered a nervous breakdown on November 3rd, 2009. On March 28th, 2010 when he recovered from mental illness, he began writing a blog called Colony-of-losers. About falling on your face to figure out who you are and the hilarious antics of a blond jew. What began with a few friends and his mother reading has become a cult phenomenon, averaging 10,000 views a week, receiving praise from Commonwealth Award Winner Shandi Mitchell and many others. On, November 3rd, 2010, the one year anniversary of his mental breakdown he signed with Anne McDermid and Associates, the largest literary agency in Canada. In a year he went from wearing pajamas, making his couch depression HQ to leaving his hometown for the Toronto, where he exclusively wears business suits and the armor of ancient Greeks. Don't worry, he's still choking on the feet he contently sticks in his mouth and making moments awkward just by being part of them. During these struggles he met other talented bastards and drew them into his circle. Peter Diamond became his illustrator. Patrick Campbell his video editor and part time photographer. He recently added the incredibly talented John Packman as Colony of Losers Toronto photographer. Without the support of the Colony of Losers, Michael Kimber would be nothing. Welcome to the losers and the success that comes from utter and complete failure. You aren’t alone. Follow him on If you’d like to hire him for a public speaking engagement for mental health events in Toronto, like to arrange an interview, offer millions to publish his book or for another reason contact Michael please email him. And join his facebook Colony of Losers.

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