I'm full off my own helpings of bullshit
We understand ourselves best during the holidays where moments with family are substituted only with solemn moments alone embedded with internal reflection and personal debate about our own perspectives on the joyous celebration of the familiar and the routine.
Instead of this coming together with my own words, Martin Amis does a good little job for me.
"I love giving money away. If you were here now, Id probably slip you some cash, twenty, thirty, maybe more. How much do you want? What are you having? What would you give me, sister, brother? Would you put your arm around my shoulder and tell me that I was your kind of guy? I'd pay. I'd give you good money for it."
Martin Amis (Money)
I think I've resolved my new years resolution, but I'm worried I'd be too scared to find out the results of the consequence.
do you feel that situation at the back of your throat?
one of the most appropriate word associations I have discovered of late has to be the emotional connection with the word awkward. The thoughts behind this have come up a couple times of late, but most recently the slang was developed in an important little conversation with dear
paige. Yes, I take all my posts inspiration from social conversations, but I figure Burroughs was inspired for his work walking through the north of Africa, and South of Europe so Im just copying his styles.
The reason awkward is so apropos, is that if you think of the feeling you get in the most awkward of situations, where the air is thick, and the breathing difficult there is no sound that is more appropriate than a light chalk full of choke kind of gasp which lets out this three letter emotion: AWK!
do it with me now as you read this, choke up a little, feel the buzz of the tension you might when the most awkward of situations is breathing down your neck. :O AWK , :O AWK, cough choke. Next time you are faced with brick walled open spaces, just choke up a little and throw out that air clearing noise.
AWK, better red wine to break the ice.
Me good Math Student
I think I have the memory capacity of a goldfish. But a human sized goldfish with relative timespan growth in memory because of relative size. Goldfish forget like every three seconds right? I am a marine biologist so I know. I hunt Jaguar sharks for a living. Ok so if a goldfish forgets every three seconds or so and the average lifespan of a goldfish according to www.killfish.com is like 3 weeks.Ok, so if I should live until lets say maybe 80 to be incredibly generous seeing as the long term effects of cellphones have never really had test subjects, thats like 52 weeks a year times 80 divided by 3 weeks right to find my goldfish to human lifespan ratio? right? wow i sound mathematical. moving on --->
ok, so 52 times 80 divided by three weeks is roughly 1387. Wow 1387 goldfish will die in a row on average before I die; if I die at 80. Thats sad. moving on --->
what was I figuring out again.....uh.....right my memory span.
According to google theres 604 800 seconds in a week. So if you times that by 1387 goldfish lives, and divided it by three seconds, you should probably have an rough estimate of how long I can remember stuff for in seconds. right? wow I sound mathematical. ok so ---> ok so that equation did not at all work.
I dont know, I forget things a lot, like every two weeks ok! Im going to go buy 1387 goldfish to figure this all out.
I pillage the seas of 8 counts and tamborines
I think I am going to have to change the bi-weekly beats section of this here journal, to the ten days tunes section. Ever since acquiring access to a beautiful little torrent server out of the UK thanks to
this man, I have been on a musical vengabus of frequent pick ups on a long musical route. Oh its coming, and everyone is jumping from New York to San Francisco, its an intercity disco. riiiight.
So for all of you looking to share that special gift of sound this lovely holiday season I present you with three options that you might not have dove your ears into of late.
Firstly,
Tom Vek. Sure his name sounds like he should be singing Wing Night at your local pub, but this guy is groovetacular. Check out his album
We Have Sound, and more importantly listen to it start to finish. And then, when your done go back and listen to
If I had changed my mind. It is the best one line repetition message I ever heard. Well, that might not be true, but for the moment, its all I can remember.
Secondly,
Kiss Me Deadly. Seriously DIElicicious. If I had my playlist on me right now Id compare it to something but my heads all wishy washy with sounds right now. But if anything, take a listen for the fact that like everygood university household they have what appears to be a family like portrait on the welcome page of their website.
Thirdly (and lastly for the time being),
Saxon Shore or
Bell Orchestre; you pick. Both are melodic escapes, the first more like Sigur Ros and the second an offshoot project of members from the Arcade Fire and a bunch of others I am only just checking out.
So there you have it, your first intermingling of ten day tunes mixed into the bi-weekly beats. There is a financial difference between the two sections, please do not judge me, I blame the Internet, it told me to download. And those commercials about stealing music. If I hadnt seen those I would never of thought to do it. Thankyou Advocacy.
A Gay ole Evening. Musicals and Gay Bars -
I had a great night yesterday, but to both abide by my new rule not to make long boring posts, and to pay tribute to the show we saw yesterday, i will do a brief summary of the evenings events in a one liner summary similar to the second final song sung by Nathan Lane in the Mel Brooks show/film/stage production of the Producers.
Started working at home, got a call from my dad on the phone, brought some things I need from his home. Went to the city, met with a few very pretty, lovely ladies at five in the day. Chose sushi on cumberland, bento boxes and shitaki mushrooms, again I should strees how absolutely gorgeous the entourage was by which I was left.
Thanks to our dear Jenny Gleed, saw the producers prescreened, and fell in love with humour based around swastikas. Lane, Broderick, Farrell, and that guy from desperate housewives who all the girls couldnt help but remind was the guy from desperate housewives were all amazing.
The show was done, but certainly not the fun, left Carrie and Monique, and to the gay district we fled, to find Paige's gay boyfriend to go to a club with a lush bed. Thats right, there was a bed in the middle of the gay club
Paige and Steve took me too to introduce me to the world of wednesday night gay clubbing. HAHAH is all I can say, because of the flames that lit up that day. But needless to do, I was licked by TWO different people within few hours of one another.
Let me tell you, one was much nicer than the other one. Hmm is all i can say about my very gay wednesday. Needless to say I can breathe a deep sigh, as this guy, can be assured that is most certainly not gay.
My Body's Nobody's Body But Mine, You Have Your Own body, So Sell It Online
Im genuinely scared of myspace.com. Ever since dear
Alex had mentioned that her new major means of procrastination is to peruse the lovely faces of myspace and see whose hot and who is most definitly not, I have taken it upon myself to also dive into the myspace realm. Call it a love for new toys, call it a means of furthered procrastination, or simply call it a love to follow the likes and dislikes of Alex in hopes that she falls in love with my internet entity and runs away with me into the web free jungle sometime in our lives.
Nevertheless,
myspace.com/e4no does exist and after roughly a week or so of wandering the digital club that is 'their space' I am genuinely scared of what this medium brings. Lucious lady after lucious lady keep emailing me saying their interest was perked by my photo, that they live in the area, and that they would like to meet; riiiight. I mean sure Im a striking bachelor working for myself in an arena that aids to fight the most dominant means of human death in the past twenty years, all in hopes of bettering the lives of those around me and basking in the glow of a stronger human unity and peace!!! But cmon, these girls are gorgeous, and their pictures scream I stole you from a porn site.
There is one in particular that is just tantilizingly suspicious. This girl emails me, and says if Id like to message her try this hotmail address. Now I am not trying to find a lovely lady over the web. Im not there yet. To me things like
LavaLife and Myspace dating are reserved for those who break up from relationships of which absorbed their entire lives thus pushing away any friends you might of had and in turn now post cut out pictures of yourself with your ex's half arm wrapped around you and a big desperate smile still ringing from ear to ear hoping that wont ever leave you. Roger, internet dating is the for those who thought highschool love was forever?
Being the enthusiastic experimental person I am towards new mediums and the exploration of digital relationships I threw this girl an email. Very straightforward, Hey, how ya doing, why myspace, this is me, yada, yada, no soup for you. This chicky sends me a reply back all full of lustful implications, little semi colon winks, and suggestive hidiho's (stress the ho's). To boot, she's like hey check out my pictures, and sends me this link to a credit card needing online photo depot to see x rated photos of herself.
I mean seriously are scam artists this involved nowadays. Do people maybe get hired to go to lengths of weilding full length lies to entice men to come and drop bucks to see desperate hot stuffs who apparently want your shit online? Like thats scary. Worse off, what if its not even a girl. What if its some guy using pics of girls to bring you to their site. The last thing I need is some 60 year old dude named Wanker, spaking his mouse to the thought of my intrigued self. Ewe, jitters indeed.
Needless to say I signed up, spent $4000 bucks on nudes, and have a date with this guy named Earl at a Starbucks next week. Should be pretty sweet, he has a beautiful rack. haha, why did i just use the word rack?
spoken word blurbs are as hot as printed tees
and you begin to think about the drink as you sink away from the dreams youd weild from academic fields and hope filled hills. You look at the ones you knew wondering how did they do, all the things that they knew they would from the beginning of time, a doctor, a lawyer, all excellent finds. And then there was you, a thirst for party still at twenty two and every opinion slowly looking further down their nose in your direction. Whats left is a solemn reflection, and the former self that looked so destined fueled by innocence lies at the bar at 3 alone with you and your saki wondering if you will see the dawn of tomorrow.
We've all hugged the bowl like a self loathing troll, that couldn't stop, wait what am I doing. This is fun right, its what everyone does on saturday night, pillage the concious so that inhibitions run wild. Why does the attitude you need to succeed only surface after drinks and some weed? Where is that chip, that confident swagger, on the wednesday before you start shooting the jagger? Its funny you see, that the person you need to be, only sees itself at half passed three.
Then you wake up and feel the righteous pain, why did I drink so much, I have been hit by a train. And as the daily rhymes go on, the wit fades away, and you start to rhyme train with pain and one liners from past fame. Then you wonder, as the years role by where your wasted lines went and why your wallet's run dry. And you get nothing sent your way except "hey remember that guy"?
its one hell of a path.
because its worth a thought.
and you begin to wonder, of the fear that beers with peers soon will soon dissapear. That the goals and thoughts that brought you to the spot where you are, begin to fade because of the way, the real world works itself out everyday. So many faces, fly to different spaces to discover new goals, loop holes, and love roles. A place for one is what comes for more than some of those with whom you used to have so much fun.
Only a quarter of the way to the end of days and already subject to constant anxiety about those closest to me. Its ok though, because for every hole theres a role, every space a face, and every emotional lack there is an equal attack waiting to step in the way. Its not a quesiton of sadness, of lonely or miss; Just a curious thought about the future and its bliss.
Go to a funeral and watch the faces of past friends, and try not to think of your own like peers, will they be there after sixty some odd years. Am I as important to you, as he was to her, and will you remember me when its time for the dirt.
its one hell of a path.
Because rocks make better hammers
Could there possibly be anything more lowbrow and lowtech at that, then the art of shoveling snow. In a day and age where I can talk to guys in South Korea with a click of a button, you think that there would be something more time efficient and less strenuous than the excercise that comes out of shovelling snow off a driveway.
I just spent an hour and half shovelling a foot of snow off my 'rentals drive. And though I pout and moan at the tedious excercise that is replacing solidfied water from one place to another so that cars and people can mobilize more smoothly, I must admit that for the rational and competitive man genes in me there is somewhat of a challenge and excitement to the process of clearing out a drive.
If it wernt for making it into a game, one which consists of three simple rules,
Do not just go up and down the drive
Be creative
Take a break for a least two cigarettes while plotting your next move, then shovelling would
I would most certainly be much more aggrevated than I am. Really though, its a world of innovation and creative direction, is there not someone that can create a more efficient and cost effective means of removing snow from the suburbs than that of the shovel. If anyone reads this from an warn and sunny island, get to the laboratory, we're too busy getting burried in the fluffy white stuff.
'Cause Life is Ruff
Oh to be a dog.
Everyday the world is adventurous discovery of the new. A look out the door is a look into the uknown. Everywhere is yours for the pissing, and thus the taking. I shit therefore I am. If I bark do I not eat, or get exactly what I want; oh yes, the humans love me.
No drama, yet no mamma. If you are comfortable with lonely, then its a dogs life for me. Unconditional love from an entity that truly does not understand any other means of comfort then the occasional pet or can of wet food. Its constant promiscuity, perpetual state of unrest, and a permanent fixture as the eternal swinger; well unless they cut your swingers off.
But even if balls come to cut, what other species can legitimately refer to all ladies as his bitches and not be slapped or pawed at the end of the day?
Life ain't ruff for the dogs.
What I didnt see coming this time last winter!
If someone told me last April that in December I would be telling regional cancer surgeons how best to frame initiatives to better the care for cancer service in Canada, I would of spit up a little and coloured them lies. If someone told me last April that in December a company with my name on it would be underway versatile in the realms of project management for non-profit organizations and businesses alike, I would of spit up and coloured them lies. If someone told me last April that in December I would still be close with so many people despite the traditional characteristics of moving away from and back to two seperate homes, I would of hugged them all over and said thankyou, because I love my friends.
I donated 50bucks to a good friends charitable initiative this past weekend, and to some that was no doubt a pompous thing to do. Sure I may be frivilous with cash, sure I may spend needlessly at times to ensure people have a good night. But I am so fortunate for where I am at from this time last December that it is so important for me to show those who I care for and who choose to stay close with me just how much it means. No money doesnt equal emotion, but it certainly is a nice gesture when your hunting another shot at the bar with an empty pocket.
I grew up in Ottawa, Peterborough, Kingston, Whitby, London, and Whitby again. Friends have come and friends gone, and for the first time in my life more have stayed close than drifted away. For that reason, Ill give you my liver if need be, after I buy you another drink. Alright, this was all a lie, buy, buy, buy my shit. I hate you all.
These Beets Grow on Good Vibes
I bought some doozies on friday for the bi-weekly beets section of this journal. As I was planning a trip up to London in projected snow sqawl weather it was imperative that a few new albums be bought so that the 6.5 hour trip (Toronto to London should only take two hours; thank you toppled beer tanker) fly by as fast as any six and a half hour trip can.
I think I will send out a few little reviews with this weeks picks as for many these may be obscure and to a few they will be sooooo last week.
Animal Collective - FeelsThe newly released Feels is another beat up my new favoured genre of fusion music. I like the fusion genre simply because it mixes every pastiche inspired medly or musicians into one lumped sum of songs. To fusion music is everything from the orchestral sound of Broken Social Scene to the North American take on reggae from Bedouin Soundclash. Animal Collective falls into this world, and provides another aural escape with to the popular ear will be considered splintered, unstructured, and in other words deliciously soundrighteous. Here is a brief excerpt from the review featured on pitchfork.
"Animal Collective sound for the first time like what they've always been to detractors with more outré tastes: an indie rock band. The songs proceed with a logic that has more to do with the early experiments of Mercury Rev than say, Sebadoh, but where Animal Collective previously sounded as if they were working according to an unusual set of rules, the first half of Feels exists in relationship to music history, and not just any music history, but rock" (Mark Richardson, Oct' 05).
Sound Directions - The Funky Side of Life/ Produced by Madlib.
The best thing about shopping at Soundscapes on College street right near Clinton, is that not only to the featured albums of the month have pitchfork reviews posted beside their display, and not only do they have listening stations with a policy to help you hear before you buy, but the staff is also so intriguingly creative in their own personal reviews of their staff's choice wall that it is almost as entertaning to hear them cook up an on the spot review as it is to listen to the album.
I picked up Sound Directions because of my love for anything funky, and turned to ask the "should of been in the cast for high fidelity" staff what they thought of the album. This is what I heard.
" Its like DJ Shadow, without the organ, except sometimes they bring in the organ, but it is used as a harsh break from the other bass dominant mixes on the track. Its hiphop mixing fresh, with some jazz, good beats and vibes to last the whole way through."
Why thank you, I say, that was most obviously a sales pitch winner if I've ever heard one.
Heres a brief biography excerpt on Madlib from championsound.com
"Armed with an SP-1200 sampler and several identities, Madlib has built a collection of beats, records, and unreleased tracks that is already becoming impossible to archive. Beginning in the early 1990's in Oxnard, CA, Madlib's distinctive crate-dug production has formed the basis of LPs for Lootpack, Quasimoto, and Yesterdays New Quintet. And that's just the Stones Throw stuff. Somehow he's also found time for the other labels doing remixes or guest recordings for the likes of Bilal, Zero 7, Glenn Lewis, Beastie Boys, The Liks, Xzibit, Dilated Peoples, Planet Asia, King Britt, Jay Dilla, and Blue Note Records. "
Kate Bush - AerialWhen I was in my last couple years of undergrad studies at Western, I engaged in a lot of sound art classes. I loved the idea of playing with samples, and inspiring projects out of concepts that would produce incredibly special meanings to myself over any listener. When I listen to Kate Bush's new album called aerial I feel as though I am sitting in my sound art class ready for an arts critique to follow every track.
The only thing is with Kate Bush, any critique becomes a compliment because this girl could sing hungry ecstasy heads to sleep with her compilation of traditional instruments, unique nature inspired samples, and british voice from heaven. Yum--MY oh my is this album a dream for anyone looking to do exactly that. Its a perfect lullaby and that kind of music that makes you escape to personal thoughts, thanks to the symphony of background noise it creates. Artsy or not, listen to Kate Bush, she's the most beautiful woman I've NEVER seen.
-----
Before I stop this free playlist creator, I should also tell you about two other great musical acts I heard this weekend.
I was very fortunate to be blessed with what I believe to be one of the first public copies of Hey! Death? by amazing artist, muscian, and flattering human bullet in latex Cameron Michael Murray. Its handing to me was a secret and I am not to spoil its release, but it too is a Yummy Beet meal and if you can find it, take a listen. Cam you sound like an angel in heat. Heavenly Sexy. Also I was able to listen to Miss Paige's good friends band the Coast this weekend. While the whole evening was quite the haze, I do believe they were really good, and in between my and Paige's random kissathon in the middle of the dance floor, I do believe I told the band their deserved compliments. You never can be too sure what is happening when Paige has locked you into her drunken tongue grip.
Now those were some sexy beets.
The two most dominant mediums in modern culture - Television and Cancer
The comparisons between student and worker just keep flying into free writter's vision at the moment and so if this journal becomes a slow build to loathed state of being, somebody stop me, because Im not sad nor mad, this is just a fad.
While living in London, and being a part of the student hustle, I rarely watched TV. So much so that I would make fun of religiously, and a warranted teasing that medium deserves. Im not sure if television just went through an incredible awkward stage of suck, or if simply my critical mindset while emersed in media studies catered ideally to my hating anything that at some point could show britney spears on a whim, or tell me who j-lo was breaking up with next. Thats a scary place to live in, and thus warrants the teasing.
Now out of school though, and keeping in mind the post of last friday, I find that there is so much more time to watch television. I am not saying Im on the tube everynight watching must see TV, but for me even one or two nights a week for a couple hours in front of the TV is a enough to multiply my previous viewing habits by about 17 or so; i did the math, and im lying.
I strongly encourage you to watch Terminal City. A Canadian production with a team of support listed in the credits from all sorts of non profit arts based government funds, Terminal City is about Katie Sampson, the kind of mother I picture Paige, Alex, Cid, Nicole, and any other of the fun loving party girls I hold close to my heart, to be. Unfortunately however, despite Katie Sampson's unbelievable attractiveness and fun loving attitude, the show focuses on Katie's diagnosis of breast cancer, and the trials and tribulations for her and her family that come with the process.
The show is really well done, and equal if not far surpassing Huff, as my favorite "Smart Television Show". The writing is amazing and touches on so many incredible moving themes. Oh did I mention, that in the diagnosis of cancer, a television network discovered Katie and developed a reality television show (embedded in the fictional drama) about her and her struggle with Cancer.
Themes, themes and more themes run rampant throughout the show. One there is the conflict and discussion that arises with showcasing Cancer in the reality show format. The show combines the two most dominant themes of modern culture; Entertainment and Cancer, and that concept alone is worth stepping into. In addition to this though, you watch Katie's husband try and hold a family together, the oldest daughter deal with the slow loss of her mother while coming into an age of sexual realizations and independence. Theres the middle son, whose crush on a hot 40 year old becomes a topic, and the youngest son who becomes obsessed with death, dressing in black, and reading the bible in the wake of his mothers diagnosis. Finally, there is the grandfather (husbands father), a survivor of the holocaust living in Canada, who continually battles to find his place in the world, while also dealing with his evolving loneliness and solitude.
I always find that the best films, television, music, is that in which you engage fully, but somehow its story makes you think about personal things while you watch it. You become emmersed in compassion for the characters and begin to care about your own loved ones by the end of the entertainment. That is the true value in some entertainment I think, the ability to make you think, and while escaping via the medium, you are really captured in your own thoughts and personal experiences.
Terminal City is filmic television, and its good. Its dramatic, thought provoking and please if you can rent the DVD or watch it on the Movie Network here in Canada. Its on Mondays at 9 on the Movie Network, or on Demand if you live in your parents house :P
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