The Nation of Marcus...

Just Some Rambling Thoughts...

2007-05-14T10:27:00.000-07:00

As you may have noticed, I tend to have time gaps between groups of postings. The root cause can pretty much be squarely blamed on writer's block. I have always written in spurts. Sometimes the distance between spurts can be somewhat substantial. Lately I have been unable to put pen to paper (or fingers on keys if you will…). It is a constant source of frustration for me. As a comic and a blogger, it gets tiresome staring at a blinking cursor, knowing that nothing is going to come of the exercise.

Hopefully I have snapped out of it for a while.

But I digress…

I had a dream the other night that roused me out of my literary slumber. (Or stupor… whatever… Shut up!)

It was an epiphany. I dreamt about President Bush. Now I know that these two things are generally considered mutually exclusive, (what with Bush's fascination with shiny objects and most likely play dough.) but in my dream something really heavy struck me.

Just over half of all eligible voters in the United States (Discounting Children, inmates in certain states, the infirm etc…) showed up for the election against Gore. Of which half of that group voted for Bush. (Just for argument's sake…) That ultimately means that only about 1 quarter of the American population actually voted for Georgie boy.

So with that in mind, less than one percent of the world's population made a decision about who would run the free world. But it gets scarier than that… The decision to discount ballots in Florida was made in court. So the ultimate decision about whether or not Bush would be president was made by just a handful of people. This distils the number of people further down from about 70 million to a few groups of 10.

If I had been Al Gore, I think I would have been spitting nails. That election was nothing but a cheap political version of double pen porno. (With Nader on top, and Bush on the bottom. Seriously gonzo shit for sure.) This was a threesome that no one in their right mind would ever have wanted to be a part of. It's a sad notion to believe that Bush wound up being "Mr. Big Stud Beefy Cock" and our world is worse off for it.

That election provided the world with Texas style diplomacy. (Well, synthetic Texas style… He was born in Connecticut after all…) I believe this we could scarcely afford.

"Don't mess with Connec… err… I mean Texas… Ha yuk yuk yuk…"

Curiously though, before America was attacked, this President had no mandate. With only one quarter of America giving him "props." He knew it too. He chose to try and inspire a nation with a treatise on "Vacationing."

But I digress… back to the epiphany…

Given how Bush was elected, it's not too much of a stretch to think he could be impeached; all it would take is impressing upon a few groups of 10 that it needs to happen. The real trick is finding the right groups.

This might seem like naïveté on my part, but history is replete with moments where a few people have made a difference.

The fall of the Berlin wall for instance. One morning a few people woke up and decided they'd had enough. We all know what happened after that.

More to come later.

Warmth at last...

2007-04-23T16:01:00.000-07:00

Monday! It’s sunny and warm here in the heartland of the energy sector. I’m a little hung over from the elimination of my team last night. I have to stop putting so much emotion into my appreciation of sports. I think my fretting and overt hand wringing gave me more (and very unwelcome…) grey hairs. I don’t need any more, the tide in war for hair colour has turned, and the grey in marching slowly towards total victory.

The warmer weather is a nice respite from the shit we’ve put up with for the last couple of weeks. The warm wind on my face felt really wonderful, almost like a kiss on the cheek from someone you really care about. It made the early morning commute feel a little more civilized. I really thought I was beginning to crack up a little from the abuse the nearly never ending winter was plying on.

This morning, I saw a flock of birds flying in formation, like little tiny fighter planes, tweeting and twittering as they surrounded a tree, then, in unison, they all came in for a landing as if this was their very own Spruce aircraft hanger. Their frenetic chirping changed, and became more musical as they nestled into its drooping branches.

I stood on the deck stock still, with the dog in tow, convening our morning constitutional, and I managed to slip out a hushed a sigh of relief. I drew in a puff of smoke, and let the moment be what it was, perfect. Truthfully I think even Juniper was caught up by the moment.

The birds are home for the spring and summer and it’s about bloody time too. They seem to come later and later each year. (Although I have no proof of that, perhaps I’m just getting old, and it just appears to be longer…) I like the birds pretty much the same way I like the smell of warm dirt and big lilac blossoms. They all remind me of summer. (All that’s missing is a strawberry slurpee and a dozy nap in the sun.)

I’m on the road this weekend. I will be hitting the booming metropolis of Nelson on Thursday, then off to Cranbrook for a couple of weekend dates.

I’ll fill you in on the progress of this interior assault as the days go by.

More to come later.

Lee Iacocca speaks with conviction...

2007-04-21T19:03:00.000-07:00

I thought this was interesting...

Where Have All the Leaders Gone?
By Lee Iacocca with Catherine Whitney
04/11/07

Had Enough? Am I the only guy in this country who's fed up with what's
happening?
Where the hell is our outrage? We should be screaming bloody murder. We've
got a
gang of clueless bozos steering our ship of state right over a cliff,
we've got
corporate gangsters stealing us blind, and we can't even clean up after a
hurricane
much less build a hybrid car. But instead of getting mad, everyone sits
around and
nods their heads when the politicians say, "Stay the course." Stay the
course?
You've got to be kidding. This is America, not the damned Titanic. I'll
give you a
sound bite: Throw the bums out! You might think I'm getting senile, that
I've gone
off my rocker, and maybe I have. But someone has to speak up. I hardly
recognize
this country anymore. The President of the United States is given a free
pass to
ignore the Constitution, tap our phones, and lead us to war on a pack of
lies.
Congress responds to record deficits by passing a huge tax cut for the
wealthy
(thanks, but I don't need it). The most famous business leaders are not the
innovators but the guys in handcuffs. While we're fiddling in Iraq, the
Middle East
is burning and nobody seems to know what to do. And the press is waving
pom-poms
instead of asking hard questions. That's not the promise of America my
parents and
yours traveled across the ocean for.

I've had enough. How about you? I'll go a step further. You can't call
yourself a
patriot if you're not outraged. This is a fight I'm ready and willing to
have. My
friends tell me to calm down. They say, "Lee, you're eighty-two years old.
Leave the
rage to the young people." I'd love to, as soon as I can pry them away
from their
iPods for five seconds and get them to pay attention. I'm going to speak
up because
it's my patriotic duty. I think people will listen to me. They say I have a
reputation as a straight shooter. So I'll tell you how I see it, and it's not
pretty, but at least it's real. I'm hoping to strike a nerve in those
young folks
who say they don't vote because they don't trust politicians to represent
their
interests. Hey, America, wake up. These guys work for us. Who Are These Guys,
Anyway? Why are we in this mess? How did we end up with this crowd in
Washington?
Well, we voted for them, or at least some of us did. But I'll tell you
what we
didn't do. We didn't agree to suspend the Constitution. We didn't agree to
stop
asking questions or demanding answers. Some of us are sick and tired of
people who
call free speech treason. Where I come from that's a dictatorship, not a
democracy.
And don't tell me it's all the fault of right-wing Republicans or liberal
Democrats.
That's an intellectually lazy argument, and it's part of the reason we're
in this
stew. We're not just a nation of factions. We're a people. We share common
principles and ideals. And we rise and fall together.

Where are the voices of leaders who can inspire us to action and make us
stand
taller? What happened to the strong and resolute party of Lincoln? What
happened to
the courageous, populist party of FDR and Truman? There was a time in this
country
when the voices of great leaders lifted us up and made us want to do
better. Where
have all the leaders gone?

The Test of a Leader
I've never been Commander in Chief, but I've been a CEO. I understand a
few things
about leadership at the top. I've figured out nine points, not ten (I
don't want
people accusing me of thinking I'm Moses). I call them the "Nine Cs of
Leadership."
They're not fancy or complicated. Just clear, obvious qualities that every
true
leader should have. We should look at how the current administration
stacks up. Like
it or not, this crew is going to be around until January 2009. Maybe we
can learn
something before we go to the polls in 2008. Then let's be sure we use the
leadership test to screen the candidates who say they want to run the
country. It's
up to us to choose wisely.

A leader has to show CURIOSITY. He has to listen to people outside of the
"Yes, sir"
crowd in his inner circle. He has to read voraciously, because the world
is a big,
complicated place. George W. Bush brags about never reading a newspaper.
"I just
scan the headlines," he says. Am I hearing this right? He's the President
of the
United States and he never reads a newspaper? Thomas Jefferson once said,
"Were it
left to me to decide whether we should have a government without
newspapers, or
newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate for a moment to
prefer the
latter." Bush disagrees. As long as he gets his daily hour in the gym,
with Fox News
piped through the sound system, he's ready to go.

If a leader never steps outside his comfort zone to hear different ideas,
he grows
stale. If he doesn't put his beliefs to the test, how does he know he's
right? The
inability to listen is a form of arrogance. It means either you think you
already
know it all, or you just don't care. Before the 2006 election, George Bush
made a
big point of saying he didn't listen to the polls. Yeah, that's what they
all say
when the polls stink. But maybe he should have listened, because 70
percent of the
people were saying he was on the wrong track. It took a "thumping" on
election day
to wake him up, but even then you got the feeling he wasn't listening so
much as he
was calculating how to do a better job of convincing everyone he was right.

A leader has to be CREATIVE, go out on a limb, be willing to try something
different. You know, think outside the box. George Bush prides himself on
never
changing, even as the world around him is spinning out of control. God forbid
someone should accuse him of flip-flopping. There's a disturbingly
messianic fervor
to his certainty. Senator Joe Biden recalled a conversation he had with
Bush a few
months after our troops marched into Baghdad. Joe was in the Oval Office
outlining
his concerns to the President, the explosive mix of Shiite and Sunni, the
disbanded
Iraqi army, the problems securing the oil fields. "The President was
serene," Joe
recalled. "He told me he was sure that we were on the right course and
that all
would be well. 'Mr. President,' I finally said, 'how can you be so sure
when you
don't yet know all the facts?'" Bush then reached over and put a steadying
hand on
Joe's shoulder. "My instincts," he said. "My instincts." Joe was
flabbergasted. He
told Bush,"Mr. President, your instincts aren't good enough." Joe Biden
sure didn't
think the matter was settled. And, as we all know now, it wasn't.
Leadership is all
about managing change, whether you're leading a company or leading a
country. Things
change, and you get creative. You adapt. Maybe Bush was absent the day
they covered
that at Harvard Business School.

A leader has to COMMUNICATE. I'm not talking about running off at the
mouth or
spouting sound bites. I'm talking about facing reality and telling the
truth. Nobody
in the current administration seems to know how to talk straight anymore.
Instead,
they spend most of their time trying to convince us that things are not
really as
bad as they seem. I don't know if it's denial or dishonesty, but it can
start to
drive you crazy after a while. Communication has to start with telling the
truth,
even when it's painful. The war in Iraq has been, among other things, a grand
failure of communication. Bush is like the boy who didn't cry wolf when
the wolf was
at the door. After years of being told that all is well, even as the
casualties and
chaos mount, we've stopped listening to him.

A leader has to be a person of CHARACTER. That means knowing the
difference between
right and wrong and having the guts to do the right thing. Abraham Lincoln
once
said, "If you want to test a man's character, give him power." George Bush
has a lot
of power. What does it say about his character? Bush has shown a
willingness to take
bold action on the world stage because he has the power, but he shows
little regard
for the grievous consequences. He has sent our troops (not to mention
hundreds of
thousands of innocent Iraqi citizens) to their deaths. For what? To build
our oil
reserves? To avenge his daddy because Saddam Hussein once tried to have
him killed?
To show his daddy he's tougher? The motivations behind the war in Iraq are
questionable, and the execution of the war has been a disaster. A man of
character
does not ask a single soldier to die for a failed policy.

A leader must have COURAGE. I'm talking about balls. (That even goes for
female
leaders.) Swagger isn't courage. Tough talk isn't courage. George Bush
comes from a
blue-blooded Connecticut family, but he likes to talk like a cowboy. You
know, My
gun is bigger than your gun. Courage in the twenty-first century doesn't mean
posturing and bravado. Courage is a commitment to sit down at the
negotiating table
and talk.

If you're a politician, courage means taking a position even when you know
it will
cost you votes. Bush can't even make a public appearance unless the
audience has
been handpicked and sanitized. He did a series of so-called town hall
meetings last
year, in auditoriums packed with his most devoted fans. The questions were
all
softballs.

To be a leader you've got to have CONVICTION, a fire in your belly. You've
got to
have passion. You've got to really want to get something done. How do you
measure
fire in the belly? Bush has set the all-time record for number of vacation
days
taken by a U.S. President, four hundred and counting. He'd rather clear
brush on his
ranch than immerse himself in the business of governing. He even told an
interviewer
that the high point of his presidency so far was catching a
seven-and-a-half-pound
perch in his hand-stocked lake. It's no better on Capitol Hill. Congress
was in
session only ninety-seven days in 2006. That's eleven days less than the
record set
in 1948, when President Harry Truman coined the term do-nothing Congress.
Most
people would expect to be fired if they worked so little and had nothing
to show for
it. But Congress managed to find the time to vote itself a raise. Now,
that's not
leadership.

A leader should have CHARISMA. I'm not talking about being flashy.
Charisma is the
quality that makes people want to follow you. It's the ability to inspire.
People
follow a leader because they trust him. That's my definition of charisma.
Maybe
George Bush is a great guy to hang out with at a barbecue or a ball game.
But put
him at a global summit where the future of our planet is at stake, and he
doesn't
look very presidential. Those frat-boy pranks and the kidding around he
enjoys so
much don't go over that well with world leaders. Just ask German
Chancellor Angela
Merkel, who received an unwelcome shoulder massage from our President at a
G-8
Summit. When he came up behind her and started squeezing, I thought she
was going to
go right through the roof.

A leader has to be COMPETENT. That seems obvious, doesn't it? You've got
to know
what you're doing. More important than that, you've got to surround
yourself with
people who know what they're doing. Bush brags about being our first MBA
President.
Does that make him competent? Well, let's see. Thanks to our first MBA
President,
we've got the largest deficit in history, Social Security is on life
support, and
we've run up a half-a-trillion-dollar price tag (so far) in Iraq. And
that's just
for starters. A leader has to be a problem solver, and the biggest
problems we face
as a nation seem to be on the back burner.

You can't be a leader if you don't have COMMON SENSE. I call this Charlie
Beacham's
rule. When I was a young guy just starting out in the car business, one of
my first
jobs was as Ford's zone manager in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. My boss was
a guy
named Charlie Beacham, who was the East Coast regional manager. Charlie
was a big
Southerner, with a warm drawl, a huge smile, and a core of steel. Charlie
used to
tell me, "Remember, Lee, the only thing you've got going for you as a
human being is
your ability to reason and your common sense. If you don't know a dip of
horseshit
from a dip of vanilla ice cream, you'll never make it." George Bush
doesn't have
common sense. He just has a lot of sound bites. You know,
Mr.they'll-welcome-us-as-liberators-no-child-left-behind-heck-of-a-job-Brownie-mission-accomplished
Bush. Former President Bill Clinton once said, "I grew up in an alcoholic
home. I
spent half my childhood trying to get into the reality-based world, and I
like it
here." I think our current President should visit the real world once in a
while.

The Biggest C is Crisis Leaders are made, not born. Leadership is forged
in times of
crisis. It's easy to sit there with your feet up on the desk and talk
theory. Or
send someone else's kids off to war when you've never seen a battlefield
yourself.
It's another thing to lead when your world comes tumbling down. On
September 11,
2001, we needed a strong leader more than any other time in our history.
We needed a
steady hand to guide us out of the ashes. Where was George Bush? He was
reading a
story about a pet goat to kids in Florida when he heard about the attacks.
He kept
sitting there for twenty minutes with a baffled look on his face. It's all
on tape.
You can see it for yourself. Then, instead of taking the quickest route
back to
Washington and immediately going on the air to reassure the panicked
people of this
country, he decided it wasn't safe to return to the White House. He
basically went
into hiding for the day, and he told Vice President Dick Cheney to stay
put in his
bunker. We were all frozen in front of our TVs, scared out of our wits,
waiting for
our leaders to tell us that we were going to be okay, and there was nobody
home. It
took Bush a couple of days to get his bearings and devise the right photo
op at
Ground Zero. That was George Bush's moment of truth, and he was paralyzed.
And what
did he do when he'd regained his composure? He led us down the road to
Iraq, a road
his own father had considered disastrous when he was President. But Bush
didn't
listen to Daddy. He listened to a higher father. He prides himself on
being faith
based, not reality based. If that doesn't scare the crap out of you,I
don't know
what will.

A Hell of a Mess.
So here's where we stand. We're immersed in a bloody war with no plan for
winning
and no plan for leaving. We're running the biggest deficit in the history
of the
country. We're losing the manufacturing edge to Asia, while our once-great
companies
are getting slaughtered by health care costs. Gas prices are skyrocketing,
and
nobody in power has a coherent energy policy. Our schools are in trouble. Our
borders are like sieves. The middle class is being squeezed every which
way. These
are times that cry out for leadership.

But when you look around, you've got to ask: "Where have all the leaders
gone?"
Where are the curious, creative communicators? Where are the people of
character,
courage, conviction, competence, and common sense? I may be a sucker for
alliteration, but I think you get the point.

Name me a leader who has a better idea for homeland security than making
us take off
our shoes in airports and throw away our shampoo? We've spent billions of
dollars
building a huge new bureaucracy, and all we know how to do is react to
things that
have already happened. Name me one leader who emerged from the crisis of
Hurricane
Katrina. Congress has yet to spend a single day evaluating the response to
the
hurricane, or demanding accountability for the decisions that were made in
the
crucial hours after the storm. Everyone's hunkering down, fingers crossed,
hoping it
doesn't happen again. Now, that's just crazy. Storms happen. Deal with it.
Make a
plan. Figure out what you're going to do the next time.

Name me an industry leader who is thinking creatively about how we can
restore our
competitive edge in manufacturing. Who would have believed that there
could ever be
a time when "the Big Three" referred to Japanese car companies? How did
this happen,
and more important, what are we going to do about it? Name me a government
leader
who can articulate a plan for paying down the debt, or solving the energy
crisis, or
managing the health care problem. The silence is deafening. But these are
the crises
that are eating away at our country and milking the middle class dry.

I have news for the gang in Congress. We didn't elect you to sit on your
asses and
do nothing and remain silent while our democracy is being hijacked and our
greatness
is being replaced with mediocrity. What is everybody so afraid of? That some
bobblehead on Fox News will call them a name? Give me a break. Why don't
you guys
show some spine for a change? Had Enough? Hey, I'm not trying to be the
voice of
gloom and doom here. I'm trying to light a fire. I'm speaking out because
I have
hope. I believe in America. In my lifetime I've had the privilege of
living through
some of America's greatest moments. I've also experienced some of our
worst crises,
the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War, the Kennedy
assassination, the
Vietnam War, the 1970s oil crisis, and the struggles of recent years
culminating
with 9/11. If I've learned one thing, it's this: You don't get anywhere by
standing
on the sidelines waiting for somebody else to take action. Whether it's
building a
better car or building a better future for our children, we all have a
role to play.
That's the challenge I'm raising in this book. It's a call to action for
people who,
like me, believe in America. It's not too late, but it's getting pretty
close. So
let's shake off the horseshit and go to work. Let's tell 'em all we've had
enough.

GO FLAMES GO!!!

2007-04-20T07:56:00.000-07:00

Go Flames Go!

Good News Everyone!

2007-04-16T11:02:00.000-07:00

Well, I spent the weekend working on DVD's. First I took Shane Ogden's and guided it from cradle to grave. It looks pretty good. The iLife suite sure makes things a hell of a lot easier than it used to be. His DVD looks so good, you'd swear it was made by someone other than my butter fingered self.

Once his was finished, I started work on my own, and it's starting to looking pretty damn good too. The title I've chosen for this first effort is "This Hole I've Dug is Mine Forever!" and it should be ready over the next week or so. I found a cool tutorial that showed me how to do a cool DVD box cover too, so I think I'm gonna go all out with the packaging rather than just a jewel case.

It's about time I got off my lazy ass with this stuff, and I must say, I'm really excited about it. I was beginning to think I'd never get the process started. Other stuff always seemed to get in the way, but now I'm energized by it, and focused on the task at hand. Given the time table I've given myself, I should have them available for the Nelson and Cranbrook gigs.

My agent will be happy too, she's been asking me for promo for eons, and until now I just kept looking at her, and then staring at my feet like an idiot savant. (Sometimes drooling, sometimes not…)

After the release of this disc, I will be retiring the "Shovel Photo." It's time for some new promo, and I have a few ideas that are going to be pretty slick I think. It's time for a bit of a re-branding. (That just sounds wrong though, doesn't it? Re-branding, like I'm little more than a product…It's actually kinda sad when you distil it down like that.)

So that will involve a new press kit, and new pictures. (Especially a new headshot…) I love the shovel pics, but truthfully they don't really give an honest representation of what my show is all about. (They seem to imply that I'm either wacky, or that I'm some sort of psychotic grave digging zombie hunter. So far I think I can safely claim to be neither.)

Anyway… More to come later.

I'm Pissed OFF...

2007-04-10T11:26:00.000-07:00

I'm tired this morning. You'd swear I got no rest all weekend, but you'd be wrong. I was as lazy as lazy can be. The black circles under my eyes seem to have gotten deeper, almost sunken. I looked in the mirror this morning, and I almost didn't recognize myself.

I've also noticed that I'm quick to be agitated lately. I'm pretty sure nothing good can come from that.

Other stuff…

Over the weekend, I got lambasted on a post from about a year ago about the seal hunt. It was someone who decided to take a pot shot at me. I have never been called a slime ball or a hick before. It rocked me a little. Those who generally read my blog seem to go the other way with the stuff that I have to say. (Mind you it wasn't so much the insults that stung… Just that it seemed particularly vicious. I have never been called an agent of terror before either. Imagine that! Me… an agent of terror… I'm about as evil as a Hagar The Horrible cartoon.)

Now I'll admit, I should have been more thorough, and really check the sources I used for that post, but after being accused of "not having the facts" It made me think, did this guy read anything else I've ever written. Give the nature of his attack I don't think so.

Truth is, over the last year, I have evolved somewhat. I must admit I no longer support the hunt. I have taken a complete 180 position. Over the past year, I took the time to learn a little more about it, and have decided on my own accord that I fundamentally disagree with it. However I have also decided not to preach about it, other than to say this.

The commons will only hold so long. Then one day, if we do not take steps to re-establish it, it will disappear forever. (This can be said about a great many things.)

The only other thing I have to say is this. Peter Moss, you can suck my ass. You criticized me, and accused me of many things I consider unspeakable. You didn't get all your facts about me, and for that you Sir are a hypocrite. So… Fuck you very much you callow fuckwit.

I can't even believe this email.

2007-04-05T22:57:00.000-07:00

Someone sent this email to me. I found it incredibly offensive. So I decided to add my two cents.

My responses are in brackets.

PROUD TO BE WHITE... Kramer's defense speech in court

(Ok first of his name is Michael Richards. Kramer is a fictitious character. Secondly this is an email that's been circling around the internet for years. What Richards did wasn't illegal, just stupid.)

Someone finally said it. How many are actually paying
attention to this?

(What on earth do you mean by finally... Rednecks have been spouting this nonsense for decades.)

There are African Americans, Mexican Americans, Asian
Americans, Arab Americans, etc. And then there are just Americans.

(The distinction is made as a sign of respect for minorities that have been historically marginalized by whites.)

You pass me on the street and sneer in my direction. You Call
me "White boy," "Cracker," "Honkey," "Whitey," "Caveman" ... and that's OK.

(A Canadian sent this too me. How many minorities have you met that have called you a cracker, or Honkey? In my 36 years of life it's never happened to me once. I've heard lots and lots of white people spout racist nonsense however. If I had a nickel for every time I heard the word "Nigger" or "Chug" or "Kike" said by a white person, I'd be a very very very wealthy man.)

But when I call you, Nigger, Kike, Towel head, Sand-nigger,
Camel Jockey, Beaner, Gook, or Chink ..You call me a racist.

(I would hope that in this civilized society of ours, that you would just naturally refrain from using racial slurs. Besides all those terms are horrific. In order to get respect, one must give it too. Reciprocity is the nature of all things.)

You say that whites commit a lot of violence against you, so
why are the ghettos the most dangerous places to live?

(Hmmm... Historically Whites have been vicious towards non whites. Here's a list: 1) The Holocaust, 2) Slavery, 3) The Current war in Iraq, 4) The occupations of Nicaragua, and Panama, 5) Apartheid in South Africa, and The American south for that matter. 6) Colonialism - The occupation of India, and the majority of Africa by white european powers. We have an awful lot to answer for.

As for the ghettos. We made them. White city councils issue permits for liquor and fire arm sales. Ever wonder why there are so many liquor stores and gun shops in the hood? We make it easy for blacks to bump each other off so we don't have to.

One need only look at Katrina to see exactly what America thinks of it's African American Citizens.)

You have the United Negro College Fund. (An organization designed to help blacks who have been marginalized by expensive and traditionally white schools.)

You have Martin Luther King Day.

(What's wrong with celebrating the life of a man who believed in racial harmony and equality? HE JUST HAPPENED TO BE BLACK.)

You have Black History Month.

(Good we have 11 months of the year...)

You have Caesar Chavez Day.

(He stood up to white's treating hispanics like lesser beings.)

You have Yom Hashoah.

(What could the Jews be wanting to protect and support? Lord knows they've never had any problems with white people...Except for that crazy Holocaust, or 2000 other years of white people's hate mongering...)

You have Ma'uled Al-Nabi.

(Nothing bad is happening to Arabs these days?)

You have the NAACP.

(Advancement for blacks? What's wrong with that? Given that there has never been a black president of the United States, or a black Prime Minister of Canada / UK... And how many fortune 500 companies are run by blacks?)

You have BET.

If we had WET (White Entertainment Television) we'd be
racists.
(I believe it's call FOX NEWS! And it is racist!)

If we had a White Pride Day, you would call us racists.

(WHY ON EARTH WOULD WE EVEN NEED IT. WE AS A CULTURE HAVE NEVER EVER BEEN MARGINALIZED! White folks run the world. We have every advantage there is. We even got to make up the rules.)

If we had White History Month , we'd be racists. (Most of the modern history we learn in school is about whites. I'd say one month out of the year is actually short changing Blacks.)

If we had any organization for only whites to "advance" OUR
lives

We'd be racists.

(Except for that first 200 years or so... Ever met a black "Knight of Columbus, or Free Mason? I bet you haven't!)

We have a Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, a Black Chamber of Commerce, and then we just have the plain Chamber of Commerce.

Wonder who pays for that?

(Nope... And I couldn't care less...)

A white woman could not be in the Miss Black American pageant,
but any color can be in the Miss America pageant.

(Who really cares? Pageants are dumb anyway! Just as JonBenet Ramsey!)

If we had a college fund that only gave white students scholarships you know we'd be racists. There are over 60 openly proclaimed Black Colleges in the US. Yet if there were "White colleges" THAT would be a racist college.

(At one point in America there were hundreds of Colleges that were White's only. And for a remarkable amount of time they were MEN only too. White MEN!)

In the Million Man March, you believed that you were marching
for your race and rights. If we marched for our race and rights, you would call us racists.

(Nazi Germany did a lot of that "Million man March thing. It didn't go over well...)

You are proud to be black, brown, yellow and orange, and you're not afraid to announce it. But when we announce our white pride, you call us racists.

(Who the fuck is orange? Most of the time it's the Aryan Nations and Ku KLUX KLAN members screaming that stuff out loud. The Nazis did that too. Another thing that didn't go to well for them...)

You rob us, car-jack us, and shoot at us. But, when a white police officer shoots a black gang member or beats up a black drug-dealer running from the law and posing a threat to society, you call him a racist.

(White people never commit crimes? White people never shoot one another? This is utter nonsense. Given that Blacks out number whites 10 - 1 in American Prisons, and that Blacks are statistically more likely to be convicted for a crime, I'd being willing to say with some certainty that the system is racist.)

I am proud. But you call me a racist.

(I'm proud of my culture, but I don't even see colour any more.)

Why is it that only whites can be racists?

(Anyone can be racist. We just happen to be good at it.)

There is nothing improper about this e-mail. Let's see which
of you are proud enough to send it on.

(This email is a sad commentary on a world gone horribly awry. I hope there's a flood one day.)

Just a little catch up...

2007-04-05T22:56:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last several days trying to ram engineering standards into my head. I find my self being reminded why I went to film school rather than try any technical discipline. I am a dough head. All the information I've been trying to cram in, pretty much looks like total gibberish to me. It takes a different kind of person to be able to absorb this stuff.

Clearly I was not built for this stuff. Gimme some sort of philosophical "high level" thinking and I'm right in there. Give me math and naming conventions, and you might as well put a leash on me. I would be better off spending my days trying to lick my nether regions that ever trying to learn this stuff. It's a wonder of the world that they keep me here. I am convinced at this moment that the only thing that separates me from a Neanderthal is my ability to actually spell the word Neanderthal. Other than that, I think we are both still impressed with the notion of thumbs.

Some other complaints and grievances…

The weather as you may have guessed is still driving me mad. I now believe that we will never see spring again. I shall never feel the warmth of the sun's rays on my face anymore. Curse my love of hairspray in the 80's, if only I had known that it would eventually freeze me to death. (Die Alberto V05! You cursed styling aid…What evil have you wrought?) What a hate filled irony. The world is getting warmer, and yet I'm freezing my ass off. It makes no sense to me. Bring on global cooling then you bastards.

Huge changes in the works at Yuks these days. The old guard from the agency is out, and a new Cracker Jack squad of leaders is being flown in from Toronto to take the reigns. It should be interesting to see what changes occur in the next little while. Hopefully things won't go too haywire.

Next…

This whole thing with Iran and America (and Britain too…) is really frightening to me. Apparently George Bush's understand of peace and democracy includes Armageddon. Could it be any more transparent that he has a hard on to go kick some Persian ass. Fucking up Iraq isn't enough apparently. He's like a fucking 2 year old with a bag of toys. No attention span to speak of and someone else will be left to clean up the mess when he shits the bed. Apparently no one ever told him the adage "Finish what you started before you go on to something new."

More to come as I think of it…

Yikes...

2007-04-05T22:50:00.000-07:00

Yikes...

I had to take the Golf in for a minor repair this morning. The damn airbag sensor light came on again. I love my car, but I hate that nagging little light. Hopefully VW will get it sorted so I can once again love the car, and not worry about that bitch of a light.

The waiting room at the dealership had just a couple of people in it. One guy in a suit, an accountant to be sure, was chatty, but without being annoying. (As so many waiting room sorts can be. Especially at bus terminals or hospitals, where for some reason, you always wind up being a captive audience.) We talked about what folks generally talk about at dealerships, namely our cars.

He was a gentle sort, and projected the notion of being trustworthy. I liked him… Well as much as one can like a person based on a conversation in the lobby of a dealer while waiting for the courtesy van.

The ride in from the dealer took forever. Traffic in Calgary has become quite the grind. When we finally pulled up outside my office, I saw a guy on a bike get hit by a car. This seems like a fairly ominous start to the day. It's only 8:30 and the shit's already hit the fan for some poor bastard. Such is the working life downtown I guess.

The guy on the bike was huge and kinda scruffy looking; the Toyota that hit him was relatively small but shiny. His bike seemed to be the only real victim of this unfortunate encounter. When the huge man picked it up, you could see that the front fork was bent, and the wheel had a wicked wobble to it. He did not look amused. (I suppose though if I had been struck by a car, and my only visible means of transportation had just become an accordion, I would probably not be terribly amused either.)

I hate it when I see stuff like this. It puts me on edge all day. Happily though, it appears that he wasn't hurt.

Stuffy Stuff Stuff stuff... vol # 2

2007-03-28T16:21:00.001-07:00

So far today I've made 3 trips to the printer. I'm enjoying huffing my lazy carcass up and down several flights of stairs and trundling off to pick up and drop stuff off. Truthfully the exercise is good for me and more specifically my chunk like midriff. Although at this point one might argue that the band "Weezer" was named after me. (Except that I really don't look that much like Buddy Holly, I know very few "homies", and none of whom of the ones I do know are currently dissing me or my girl

I've just gotten over some sort of stomach thing. I spent yesterday running between the couch and the lavatory (I prefer this term, it sounds more scientific that washroom.). Somewhere in the mix though, I finally got around to posting video clips.

In fact sitting at home all day can do wonders for productivity. Boredom can be a great motivator. I even managed to tweeze my eyebrows, which is good, because I was starting to look like Wolfman Jack. (Well, before he took his eternal dirt nap.)

"Bushy eyebrows aren't all that hip and groovy, you crazy kiddies. How ooooooow"

I recently got an Xbox 360, and so I spent a little time killing terrorists yesterday. This thing is far more realistic that I would have expected. All that's missing is the smell of smoke, and the waft of the shit left in a dying soldier's pants.

I think we should just give Bush an Xbox, that way he won't be wasting anymore money on "The War Against Terrorism" (T.W.A.T.) and will still accomplish about the same amount of progress. There will be a lot fewer grief stricken mothers if the whole thing got distilled down to a few hours of "Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon – Advance War Fighter."

More to come later…

Just a thought...

2007-03-28T16:20:00.001-07:00

I have always been fascinated by the notion that some species eat their young. It’s a splendid concept. I’m not entirely sure it’s true, but I do seem to recall a story about a male bear that killed its cubs, so as to not be challenged for dominance. It’s an almost Shakespearean concept. Rumour has it, that a “lost” sequel to Hamlet had a similar plot. (Involving homicidal bears… dressed up as fops and what not…)

I think it’s time humans adopted a more positive view about cannibalism. Sure there have been extreme cases, usually involving stranded soccer players, or lost artic explorers, but generally we as a whole have frowned on the thought. That my friends, is being wickedly short sighted on our part.

It might solve a few problems all at once. Let’s face it, a significant portion of the world’s population is hungry, and we have a lot of socially retarded dirt bags that would make some pretty tasty eating.

Who wouldn’t love to hear Chuck Heston bellow out “Soylent Green is made from Hilton”?

And now that the Olsen twins aren’t little kids, they need to be put into the stock pot too.

“What’s that flavour? I can’t put my finger on it. It has a gamey taste, but there’s also a whiff of disappointment to it,”

“Oh that’s just Mary Kate and Ashley…”

It would be a dream come true. If other species can do, I know that in my heart that with a little practice, with our collective nose to the grindstone, we could get into it. Let’s face it, with a little Montreal steak spice, and a few cloves of garlic, you can make anything taste edible.

K… Perhaps that’s an extreme thought. Think of it this way. If you are a useless waste of flesh and bone, and your existence has done nothing to help this species out, perhaps you were meant to meet your end this way. What if this was supposed to be your destiny? Perhaps your talent is to become a rib roast.

Besides, Britney Burgers has a ring to it. Say it with me now… “K-Fed for the underfed.”

It’s not that crazy.

Snow... Nikki, Shane, and Me...

2007-03-21T11:37:00.001-07:00

There is more Goddamn snow in Calgary today. That is too cruel for words. This is like some sort of sick Groundhog Day joke. Today is supposed to be the first day of spring. It is as if Mother Nature just said "Fuck You!" and skipped on by. I personally believe she's an evil bitch, and I am convinced she must be stopped at all costs. She in my humble estimation represents a "clear and present danger" to my health and sanity. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, and so far I'm laying the root causes on her evil wake...

But I digress, on to other stuff…

Edmonton came off without any hitches. All four shows were sold out. The club was packed to the absolute rafters. All of the shows rocked. Nikki and Shane were both fantastic, which made my job as smooth as silk. I love it when things run without a snag.

The bus ride up to Edmonton was tiring. The second we got off of the Red Arrow, we were whisked away to the studios of Sonic 102.9. That was really fun, the folks there are super friendly, and they loaded us down with swag. Nikki said sweaty genitals a lot while we were there. I liked that very much.

On the way to the club, before the shows on Friday, we found out that Yuks had hired extra security for the shows. Initially we were led to believe that they would be carrying tazers, which we all thought would have been fun. (A little excessive, but fun nonetheless) We all wanted to shock Shane. Nikki thought it would have made for a very funny new closer. I agreed. Shane seemed open to the idea. Alas we were misinformed. They just had handcuffs and bear spray. Shane was less open to that concept.

The shows went great, and then Shane and I got drunk. Really really really stinking drunk, and yet somehow we were still able to sell a pile of CDs and sign some autographs.

Saturday started with a trip to the West Ed, (After recuperating from the Friday's drinking…) where we managed a decent lunch, and did some shopping. I love the HMV at the West Ed. It's the biggest one in Canada, and I always managed to find some cool stuff there.

Then we headed back to the hotel to clean up before the evening's shows. Both shows rocked, and we managed to sell another pile of CDs and sign some more autographs. Much to my amazement, people had travelled far and wide to come see the show. (That Nikki Payne is a superstar for real…) There were folks from Winnipeg that came just for the show, and I met some folks from Fort McMurray too. All in all, I was mighty mighty (So much so I had to say mighty twice…) Impressed.

If only all gigs were like that. Happy belated St. Patrick's day to all.

Dear Captain, My Captain,

2007-03-21T11:34:00.001-07:00

The Prime Minister is trying to buy your vote. He wants a majority, and he's willing to pay for it. This new federal budget smacks of a party on a mission. It's as if the Conservatives are looking at the Liberals and saying "Bring it Bitches!" In a single tabled document he's trying to buy families, seniors and the Bloc. (If I were a Quebecer I would be furious with my elected representation right about now…) You can practically see the saliva dripping off of the new budget.

I suspect in true Harper fashion, the jibes and jeers are going to get louder and louder, as they try to goad the Liberals into a showdown. (Let's not forget that the Prime Minister is a bully, and quite frankly a mean spirited prick.) This is a full on drama queen battle royal. Its gonna be really fun to watch, but will it be good for the country? Likely not. (But, it's not going to be boring.)

If Dion was smart, he'd just sit and smile. If I were the liberal leader, I'd drag out every agonizing moment. I'd bring a rocking chair into the House of Commons and just sit tight. The louder it got, the more I'd rock. (I might even learn how to knit.) Sadly though, Dion is a bit of a simpering wimp. I suspect he'll take the bait sooner rather than later, if only to try and rough up his weenie image. That would have some seriously tragic consequences. (Namely a Conservative Majority...)

I'm pretty sure that I'd let Harper trip over himself, because sooner or later the great ship Conservative is going to make a fatal mistake. There will be an iceberg in its future. Without question, they will eventually "chum" the waters themselves. It is the nature of government to implode; sometimes it just takes a while. (Ever notice that Finance Minister Jim Flaherty looks a lot like Boris Badinoff from the Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons? Come to think of it, Rona Ambrose looks like a chunky Natasha!)

"izzzz Vicked Boris?"

"Ja, is Vicked Natasha!"

The longer Harper and the other sausage fingered "brown shirts" have to wait, the better off the country will be. (It's like Jenga but with red necks in expensive suits… Not to mention a misplaced sense of entitlement.) Truthfully we need to let them lose their way, and start to get fat off the hog. I'm tempted to dangle a ham in front of them, just to see what happens.

My Grandpa gave me a great piece of advice once about politics. "Never trust a Conservative when he wants to spend money."

To me, it's kinda like watching a desperate poker player splash the pot, hoping that antics rather than the pair of deuces in hand, will cause the other players to fold

Don't get me wrong, for the time being, (I'm thinking short term here…) there is nothing wrong with a Conservative Minority. They can't get too uppity the way things stand, and while they're busy being little beavers trying to shore up their Dam, the country can lap up some of the spoils. After all, their spending, regardless of motivation, is currently at least somewhat helpful. (Although, it really doesn't go far enough… but that's for another post.)

My Pony's Name is John...

2007-03-14T23:46:00.000-07:00

The Democratic primaries are going to be really damn interesting. Clinton vs. Obama is likely going to be the main event battle, but I'm not convinced that's the real part of the contest everyone should be paying attention to. I suspect that the dark horse in this race is really John Edwards.

He's young, and dynamic, from the south, and not a challenge for Middle America. He won't ruffle the feathers of rural folk (not based on appearance anyway… This in 2007 is a sad commentary!) Nor will the religious right get too uppity with him. He's a bigger liberal that Clinton and Obama put together, and most importantly he's eloquent while still managing to be a "plain" speaker. He smacks of vox populi.

I like his affable southern charm, but what I like more is that he's willing to admit when he's wrong. He apologized to the American public for voting yes to Baby Bush's war. Clinton couldn't bring herself to do that, instead opting for the notion of "being misled" which is not at all the same thing. Truthfully Hillary comes off as arrogant, but with a sense of entitlement attached to it. I think that puts an unelectable stink on her and will ultimately crucify her chances over the long haul. (There is also something about her I find stifling. I bet poor ole Bill has a short leash these days…)

As for Obama, his admission of using drugs in college (actually inhaling pot smoke, and hitting the snow a little…) is refreshing, and clearly his level of intelligence, and sensibility have "serious contender" written all over him, but I think he's still too green around the edges. He needs to mature a little more, but once that happens I suspect he will be unstoppable. I believe one day he will be President. Just not anytime in the near future.

Which brings me back to John Edwards, who I totally believe should be the "here and now" candidate for the Democrats. It would be incredibly stupid for them not to see this. He shows something they've been missing for some time, namely strength of character. He doesn't strike me as the dithering liberal that the neo cons like to lambaste.

Ann Coulter called him a faggot, (In this day and age Ann Coulter condeming you is practically an endorsement...) but she just couldn't make it stick, mostly because no one would believe it anyway. He's done nothing but show interest in public service, and regardless of political stripe, no ones sees that as a bad thing. (Ann seems to forget that no one cares anymore… her day in the fascist sun is done. She's a liar and the entire world knows it. I suspect even her parents would be likely to tell her to the fuck shut up.)

Anyhoo… more on this as I think of it.

Stuffy Stuff Stuff Stuff...

2007-03-14T11:02:00.000-07:00

This morning was met with less resistance than normal on my part. I’m feeling pretty good. I wouldn’t go so far as to say “Hale and Hearty” but at least I’m not crabby. The drive into work was quicker than normal, and light years better than the shit show that was yesterday’s commute. (Snow + Calgary drivers = shit show…) I swear to God, when the weather is bad here, people begin to very quickly show that their DNA is only a few strands away from a monkey’s. (Let the poo flinging begin…)

I’ve spent most of my day so far packing. I’m heading to a new project, which means yet another move to yet another building. This is the 5th time in four months that I’ve had to pack. I’m becoming some sort of packing wizard. I hope this is the last one for a while. Living out of boxes is one thing, but trying to work out of them is a total different story. (Why must I be a man in a suitcase?)

Other stuff,

I’ve been on a bit of a writing binge lately. There are a few new jokes that are starting to take some decent shape. They still need to be wrung out on stage, but their framework is looking very promising. I’m hoping to excise a significant chunk of older material in the next little while, and these could be really great replacements with just a little bit more polishing.

Still More Stuff…

I’ve given up meat for a while. I made the mistake of watching “Fast Food Nation.” There is a really graphic scene that takes place on the “kill floor” and it horrified me. It literally took all of my stamina not to get sick afterwards. It was so jarring and brutal. (I’ve seen some pretty heavy pictures from Iraq that seemed less brutal… Although that’s probably a sad commentary on its own…) I’m generally not sensitive or squeamish, but that really rattled me. At this point, regardless of my love of cheeseburgers, I’m not sure I want to eat meat again anytime soon. So for me now I shall gorge on “Boca Burgers” with cheese instead.

More to come as I think of it…

Morning

2007-03-12T15:42:00.000-07:00

The alarm went off a little too early this morning. One of my eyes had been glued shut from the sleepy gunk that built up during the night. I was cranky. I fumbled out of bed, and tried to find my housecoat in the dark.

It's not unusual for me to stub my toe along the way. I curse a lot in the morning. It's a solid benchmark for my distain of all things morning related. I hate the fuckin' morning. Even the sounds of birds chirping, has a seeming negative effect on me. If only they had some sort of volume control.

To my way of thinking the only good morning thing is breakfast. I love me a good breakfast. But thanks to Denny's, Humpty's and a litany of other restaurants, you can get that stuff 24 hours a day. I tend to like my breakfast at noon, which is a much more civilized time of day to my way of thinking. I'm usually feeling pretty hale and hearty at that point in the day.

Due to some sort of genetic pre disposition, (The damn Irish side of me I suspect…) my feet hurt like a son of bitch in the morning. I need to walk on them for a little bit before the feeling goes away. It almost feels like the tendons have shrunk during the night, and they need to stretch back out before things feel right. Usually the first handful of steps are the worst. Even in my fuzzy slippers, I am uncomfortable.

I have a routine that I generally stick to. It seems to keep me going. (Sort of…) I get up, feed the dog, then she and I both go out on to the deck to have a smoke. (Well… I have the smoke, and she just sits there, a couple of inches ahead of my feet, waiting patiently. I am however considering trying to teach her to smoke… but that's another blog for another time.) It's our quiet waking up time. We both stare out onto the parking lot next to the house. We are two peas in a premature pod.

There we are man and dog, both of us having a slightly glazed over look about us. She sits befuddled, after being roused out of a dream most likely involving helpless cats and big meaty bones, and me left slack jawed with the sinking feeling that work is just a mere 45 minutes away from this point. Somehow, this has become our bonding ritual.

We are both immediately aware of how stock still and quiet the other is. These are the moments before my neck gets kinked up with the stress of the day. Juniper on the other hand will likely just slump over and catch some more sleep. I'm jealous of my dog, and that is truly sad. I'm beginning to wonder what she thinks of when she looks at me.

She's generally a nice dog, a little over eager, but affectionate and charming enough. This early though, she just tends to be a furry little zombie. (Sort of a furry little Muppet version of a zombie…) Her normal frenetic pace has been replaced with the occasional clumsy stretch and wide mouthed yawn. I am no better. (Just larger mostly…)

Once we go back into the house, she heads for her training mat, and goes about her business. We both have predictable routines. I stumble up the stairs and try and make my lazy carcass look somewhat presentable. Generally the dog has better luck with her task than I do with mine. Life would be great if all I had to wear was a collar.

If I could move slower I would. This is the daily process and quite truthfully it begins to feel like a Herculean effort by the end of the week. Somewhere along the way, I became a member of the rat race. I'm not sure how that happened, and worse still, I'm not sure quite what to do about it. Again I come to the realization that I'm jealous of my dog.

Got it, Got it, Got it, Need it, Got it...

2007-03-12T15:41:00.000-07:00

I think it's tragic that we pay very little attention to the people we elect into office. Given the scope and responsibility of the job, you'd think people would want to "interview" the candidate before they got hired. Sure there's a lot of banter, and half hearted character assassinations, but do we ever really get to see the real deal? (I've given some really killer interviews over the years, and then been total crap at a job.)

But… Try to imagine any other job where the employer didn't interview the applicant. Imagine how many shitty buildings would get built or unsuccessful criminal convictions there would be, or really shitty hamburgers you'd have to eat.

The truth is we have to be more critical of those we elect. So many Canadians complain that "it doesn't matter who I vote for, they don't listen…" or "my vote doesn't matter" or my favorite "they're all the same anyway…" What we don't realize is that it's a vicious circle. It is with the absence of our watchful eyes that they have become corrupted.

Only when we truly pay attention do they follow the straight and narrow. Our future has to be in our own hands. If we take a fatalistic approach, we get what we deserve, namely shitty politicians. Sure it can be difficult to separate the wheat from the chaff, but if we don't take the time, who will? Sadly the answer is "no one!"

But I have an idea… (Another one…)

I think we should make budding politicians fight it out in the area. I want them to fight with tridents, nets, spears and swords. I want gladiators, and most assuredly I want blood. You want my vote? Are you willing to kill for it? More importantly are you willing to die for it? Picture this, "Those of you about to die, we elect you!" (Although picturing Harper in a loin cloth trying to "work" a sword is just about all my little brain can handle…)

We should make a sport out of it. Perhaps we could even print trading cards with the politicians on them. Like any other sports card, we could have their stats on the back. (As well as which party "drafted" them, and when they sold out and got "traded.") I love the idea of making each individual voting record more widely accessible.

Try to imagine kids in the school yard trading them. "I'll give you a Harper and a Dion for that Joe Clark and a Trudeau!" (That sounds like an awesome deal to me…) It's a brilliant thought isn't it?

Let's Party...

2007-03-11T01:11:00.000-08:00

I watched Man of The Year last night. I liked it. More specifically I liked the spirit of it. I've been chewing over the premise, and I have an idea. This one is just kooky enough that it just might work.

First though, I'd like you to think about these questions for a second. (Copy them and paste them into your comments... With answers...)

1)Do you think "The New Canadian Government" is creepy, and is ultimately run by a dick? (These aren't your daddy's Conservatives... Unless your daddy's last name was Goebbles...)
Is it just me, or does Stephen Harper's hair look like it once belonged to a Playmoblie action figure?

2)Are you convinced that Stephane Dion is a wimp? (It's hard to believe the Liberals could get even more shiftless.) I think he's more flacid than a pedophile's junk on a retirement cruise. Sure it might be all inclusive, and dinner's at 4pm, but it's all AC and no DC.

3)Does the notion of voting for Jack Layton invoke images of an eastern european car salesman. (Lada – made from recycled soviet era tank parts. Drives good Yes?) Besides he's got a moustache, and no good can come from that!

4)Are all the other Canadian political parties just a little too flaky and or freaky?

I think it's time for a real party of inclusion. We need a party for the rest of us. Don't you think it's time to vote for things you actually care about? Wouldn't it be great to not feel the need to vote defensively? I don't know about you, but the idea of voting for any of these rejects makes my skin crawl. This era of American style attack ads and smarmy bullshit in the house of commons, makes my stomach churn. Wouldn't it be great if we remembered that public debate doesn't need to lack civility. (I wish someone would remind Harper... He'd likely come off less dickish...)

It's time that Canadian politics excised personal agendas. It's time that social policy actually reflects the values of real Canadians. From this point on, there should be no room for closed minds. All it takes is a few disenfranchised people to stir the pot. Will you stir the pot with me?

Every year in Toronto there is a conclave of ideas. Artists, Politicians, Musicians, Scientists, and a plethora of other interesting professionals come together to share ideas. Imagine if we did that with our governance, oh what a wonderful world it would be.

One last thing, Talk minus action equals zero.

Harpo and The Goonies...

2007-03-10T23:56:00.000-08:00

Stephen Harper and his band of power drunken neo cons seem to be flying pretty fast and loose these days. They're up in the polls, and figure now is the time to strike. The proverbial iron is hot, and the liberal body is not. (So to speak…)

His strategy so far has been to taunt the opposition parties, trying desperately to draw them into an election. His handlers, taking a lesson from their American counterparts in the Republican Party, (Yes the Democrats do it too…) have launched a volley of personal attack ads to goad, chide and persuade. It's very heavy handed though, much like dropping a nuclear bomb on a country whose army fights with sticks. (Hmmm… that sounds familiar for some reason… Bunker busters and what not…)

His agenda is to make the attacks so personal that he manages to push the right button. I hope for the country's sake, Layton and Dion will remind themselves that the P.M. is a dick, (A big one at that…) and that his bullying tactics are nothing but an obvious ploy to greedily get his sausage shaped fingers on a majority.

His lusting for a majority government is unkindly reminiscent of a crack whore trying to draw in an unwitting John. It couldn't be any more thinly veiled. Sheets of exercise paper have more thickness. (And substance for that matter…)

As if that wasn't enough, his courting of the ADQ in Quebec should be setting off klaxon horns all over the country. Why mess with the ruling Liberals? Especially since the Premier is really a conservative? Mr. Harper, are you really that petty? Instead of propping up a majority federalist party, you choose to prop up a party with the "chance" of a minority government. How does this help the country?

Why poke the sleeping sovereignty movement with a stick? Oh I know… Because you're a pretty and vendictive dick. I know... Cause I'm a vendictive dick too, and as they say "It takes one to know one!"

Grumble...

2007-03-03T13:10:00.001-08:00

Grumble...

I'm tired. It's been a really long week. This day job thing is really kicking my ass. I spent my entire week doing rudimentary data entry. Nothing is as boring as data entry. 40 hours staring at a screen. Much to my chagrin, the pile of documents I've been dealing with doesn't seem to be diminishing I'm convinced that someone is sneaking papers into my pile.

Working for a living sucks ass. I really hate it.

The small of my back aches like a son of a bitch, and my shoulders feel like someone was kneeling on them. I now understand the plight of millions of office workers who suffer from repetitive strains. How people carry on day in and day out in offices mystifies me.

On Monday, I turn 36. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet. I've been feeling "old" lately. I seem to be unable reconcile the feeling that I'm behind schedule in some fashion. I can't put my finger on what exactly, but I feel like I can't catch up. (Fuck that sounds like the premise for some shitty Alabama song…)

Is this normal? I wish there was some sort of proper manual that could explain some of how I'm feeling. (Not some piece of shit 'Chicken Soup for the Soul" pile of crap… Which to me is as fake and contrived as an Anne Geddes photo. I'd rather run my gums across a belt sander than waste my time with that nonsense.)

I feel like I'm getting dumber too. I'm just a few moments away from giggling when I fart, and while part of me appreciates the simplicity of that, I'm also aghast by it. I've been unable to finish reading books, and my tragically basic understanding of English grammar has diminished greatly. I'm hoping that with some sleep these things might return to me. I'm not holding my breath though.

More to come later…

Some species eat their young...

2007-03-03T13:09:00.000-08:00

Some species eat their young...

The shows on the weekend went really well. New material is forming quickly, as this character further cements itself into the act. I feel really strong on stage, and I seem to be getting faster in terms of "funny on the fly." It's a nice feeling.

I've started getting into some new concepts, one in particular about "notorious lifestyles" vs. genuine abilities and talents. I've touched on it a little in the past, but now it is becoming more thematic, as it starts to fit more ergonomically. I'm starting to believe that if you make a case for it, (And more importantly if it's funny…) then people will start to pay it a little more attention. I think over the next little while, I'm going to see how far I can take it.

The question I keep asking myself is "what is the john q public's threshold?" We humans by our nature (and especially us Canadians it seems…) love to see someone crater. The bigger the explosion in a social persona, the better it is. I am certainly no exception to this observation. I love it. It's like porn to me. It's like butter on popcorn, or jam on my toast. I lap this shit up willingly, and I'm okay with it.

But it doesn't mean that I don't see the harm in it. Part of what makes comedy good (in my most humble estimation…) it being able to point out, in no small measure, my own double standards and hypocrisy. I'm the first one to say "Hey, I'm a big retard, and I got some issues…"

It's hard not to take notice too, because let's face it, a traffic accident is still a traffic accident. The grisly details can't help but appeal to something very dark and primal inside us. I think we as humans get off on suffering, but only if the drama that leads up to it is flavorful enough. "It's gotta be juicy Junior!!! Real damn juicy…"

Watching the fallout from Anna Nicole Smith, Michael Richards, and Brittney certainly has gotten too much attention. Does it matter though? Do we use these people as a yard stick? Do we compare our relatively stayed lives to the super fantastic?

I think watching these personal explosions go off, permits us to feel better about ourselves. No matter how much we fuck up in our own lives, we are not nearly as doomed as they are. Is that fair? Does anyone really care? Fuelling our own neurosis in such a fashion can't be healthy. We are quickly becoming a species that "eats" it's own. Too bad it's out of sport and not from a necessity.

Just some thoughts...

2007-03-03T13:08:00.000-08:00

"Send lawyers, guns and money, the shit has hit the fan!" – Warren Zevon

The office is all a flutter this morning. Things have gone about as far south as they can. (Save for ice skating with Satan, but even as I look over, he's lacing them up…)
Such is the curse of the Canadian comedian. The day job, while being necessary, has a tendency to come with their own steaming heap of problems.

I'm starting to itch for the road. This is rarely a good sign. Long drives, other comics shit, bad food, terrible service (because I'm little more than a living karaoke machine, and the comic before me was a dick…), not to mention time away from the homestead makes the prospects less than gleeful. Much like t he day job though, it's a necessary evil.

I need to get my sorry ass out there for an extended period. Playing the clubs is a lot of fun, but I have shit I need to hash out, and nothing works better than the road for that. (Some would argue differently, but this is what works for me.) Bouncing stuff off of cagey, less than appreciative audiences tends to temper material. The more battle tested the better. Once you stroll into a club with shiny new shit, you feel like a God.

Anyhoo… More to come soon.

I feel like jamming a spoon into my eyes...

2007-02-21T20:54:00.000-08:00

Hopefully at some point over the next 48 hours, I'll have posted some live performance video clips on the page. I've been wanting to for some time, but I just never seem to be able to get to it. My humble little life is more hectic than one might initially imagine. (Or so it seems lately.)

I've had the last four days off, and you'd figure that sounds like enough time to get in some rest, and get down to the "business end" of stand up land. No such luck for me. I did manage to squeak in a hockey game on Sunday, but the rest of my time was taken up with other obligations. I tried working on some stuff tonight, like disc replication, and I managed to make a whopping total of one! (Now that's productivity…)

Needless to say, I've been out of the loop lately. It took my army of Myspace spies to clue me into the whole Britney "haircut" incident. Normally I'm on this stuff like flies on proverbial shit, but I missed this one. Mind you, I've been trying to severely curtail my watching of all things infotainment related. (I believe it's killing me, and blackening my soul.)

Truthfully I believe that smoking is far less harmful than infotainment. I may be killing myself slowly with every sweet, and lovely lingering drag, but at least I'm generally conscious for it. Once the TV hits "Entertainment Tonight"; my brain turns to a sort of frothing, undulating, angry mush. The sad part being that I sop this shit up like bread in a pan of gravy.

I rant and rave about how socially fucked the entertainment industry is (the irony of me being an entertainer… Well that just might kill me faster…), and regardless I permit myself to have my intelligence insulted in hourly chunks like I'm fully retarded. (Sponsored by Pepsi…)

But I digress…

I wanted to take a kick at Britney, but she's already doing a better job of it than I could ever hope to do. Its looks as if the 8:15 to Whacko Town is right on schedule. (She should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque…)

I feel no swell of pity for her. It's nice to see a superstar see that "real life" is a great big steaming bag of shit sometimes.

Here's a fun checklist. It's a step by step on How Brit got to here. Lemme Know if I missed something.

1) As a child, go to a zillion talent contests. Win some; lose some (Then get hit with a wire hanger…)
2) Get on the New Mouseketeers; meet future boyfriend, and not one but two future mortal enemies.
3) Play the virginal good girl card, even though it's rumored that Daddy got you new tits, and you dance like you just might have a future as a call girl.
4) Make a shitty movie that everyone hates. (Even good ole Grammy and Grampy want their money back. Cause let's face it; even "Plan 9 From Outer Space" was less wooden and forced…)
5) Dump Mouseketeer boyfriend, and make a huge public spectacle of it. The louder the better. Now is the time to pitch that whole virgin thing.
6) Marry a "friend" then have it annulled the very next day. When the media asks, "What on earth is this all about?" Just tell them something stupid like "I just wanted to know what it was like to be married."
7) Marry the male "Anna Nicole" and grunt out his love puppies. Support his lazy ass, and help him crank out a piece of shit hip-hop album. (One that gives Vanilla Ice instant street cred…)
8) Make a home porno flick with Male "Anna Nicole."
9) Drop your baby, and have social services pop by for a "visit"
10) Dump Male "Anna Nicole" and Party hard with Paris Hilton. Make sure to show your shaved "cooter" to the paparazzi.
11) Meet halfway credible musician, play head games with him, and watch him head for the hills as fast as his little legs can carry him.
12) Dump Paris.
13) Shave head.

Anyhoo more to come as I think of it.

Don't Get VD!

2007-02-14T13:13:00.000-08:00

Why do we really celebrate St.Valentine's Day? Every single person I know hates it. There's a level of bitterness towards this yearly event (Not holiday… No day off equals no holiday... Besides St. Patrick and his travelling snake act don't get one so why should good ole Valentine?) that makes even my head spin.

The first thing I noticed about this day, when I say it's name out loud, is that "Saint" has been all but completely truncated from the name, in favour of the less obviously religious Valentine's Day. This is dumb. The original point of the day was to honour a man who was murdered for his beliefs. (A martyr… that's kinda sexy…Right?) I'm not so sure that romantic love was ever intended to be celebrated on this day. "Hey Honey, did you hear? Valentine got torched on a stake, now let's fuck…)

How we got to roses, candies, and tacky cards with even tackier sayings is a real mystery to me. (Very much like, "Hey our Lord and Saviour has been born, let's cut down a tree, bring it in to the house, and cover it with shiny shit.") But you can bet that the chairman of the board and Hallmark gets pretty randy looking at all those sales figures.

Near as I can tell, this day is for the young, and those who are stunted emotionally. (Although I do know some seemingly rational and sane people who do enjoy the day…) "Red roses will best express my love… YEECH!)

Every Valentines Day I've ever had the interesting fortune to be apart of, has in a word Sucked! It's has the same level of expectations that New Year's Eve has, and just as much of the let down. (Baring of course, the St. Valentine's Day Massacre… which must have been a hoot. Nothing says lovin' like gangland reciprocity.)

Before I got married, I used to spend this blockbuster day going to the annual "Elvis Presley" impersonators at the Ship and Anchor. I always thought that was the perfect antithesis to Valentine's Day. Fake fat Elvis and I, getting smashed and both touching ourselves in a wildly inappropriate fashion. "Fools rush in my ass!"

For the record I hate cinnamon hearts for two reasons, 1) to me they taste like the crud that forms on the lip of the cough syrup bottle after it's been in the fridge for a few months. (Don't judge me!) And 2) that's not cinnamon, that's a crime. What retard invented this crap? Apparently taste buds were not factored in as a requirement of the job.

I'm Fucking Freezing...

2007-02-13T14:26:00.000-08:00

It's cold here. Not Nunavut cold, but cold enough for sure. The people who live that far up north need help. I would argue it to be a very special kind of help. The cold has clearly frozen them on the spot, and is sucking their will to live even as you read this. Hell, not even thoughts can form in that kind of cold. Having them live there is cruel. I wouldn't wish that on an enemy let alone some poor schmuck.

Whoever it was that decided to come settle in North America (I'm looking at you Vikings… and you too Plymouth Rock people…) really should have been shot for even suggesting it. Not just shot, but dragged into the town square and flogged mercilessly first, and then had a nice lemon juice and turpentine bath… and then shot!

Even better yet, strap the bastards naked to a tree in the dead of winter, and spray it down with a fire hose until all of them were encased in ice. That would have changed a mind or two I'm willing to bet.

Sure there are lots of historical arguments about "Religious Freedoms," and "Natural Resources" to consider when thinking about the initial migration to North America, but in the end, were they worth living and trying to function in a cold climate? I think not.

It was as if the early settlers (Lord Baltimore for instance…) came up along side the continent and said "Close enough Fuckers…" and then never bothered to look any further. They just stood there, scratching their frozen balls. "Well, this is a little colder than perhaps I would have liked, Hey… Why is Dave turning blue?"

The Spanish on the other hand, were smart enough to keep looking, and were rewarded for their efforts with Mexico and California. Meanwhile the French and English just kept bickering and shooting at one another. Sort of a "I claim this frozen chunk of crap for France" or "On behalf of Her majesty The Queen, I proclaim this to be our icy Hell Hole" kinda thing.

The older I get, the less and less I'm impressed with the cold. Sure global warming is making the winters here a little easier, but it's just not enough. Any number of degrees below zero is too many degrees below zero as far as I am concerned. There is snow in my car, and it refuses to melt. That's just not right.

No amount of wool or Gortex is ever going to satisfy me. I hate the cold. Plain and simple. The only thing I enjoy outdoors in the winter is a pick up game of hockey, and even then, picking the icicles out of my hair afterwards in not even close to my idea of fun. Humans were not designed for this.

Just once in our evolutionary path, could we skip trying to live outside of our ideal conditions?

Anyhoo enough Bitching for now…

Just like Anna Nicole Smith, today is a double whammy.

2007-02-12T13:43:00.001-08:00

Sometimes it's hard not to speak ill of the dead. I know it's wrong, but I just can't help myself. Last week Anna Nicole Smith expired, and in my heart of hearts, I wanted to feel like it just might be a good thing. I tried really hard to revel in it, but I just couldn't find the feeling. Instead I felt a sense of sadness.

Normally I tend to rejoice when a "Star" who's skill set is as heady as pamphlet for carpet cleaning gets it's mortal coil snipped. I usually find a certain sinister comfort in it. (It's like Mother Nature has struck a blow, or the earth is righting itself in some fashion)

Mind you, the skills she did have, while few in number, did propel her into the spot light. Few people on this planet looked as good naked, and fewer still know how to use those "advantages" to the same level that she had. I would argue that she was "The New Lesser Talented Marilyn Monroe."

In the past I had trivialized her as "The World's Hottest Hillbilly" and "The Most Shameless Gold Digger in Human History." But I'll admit, I loved her insanity. There were moments where it bordered on sheer brilliance. This of course being the counter balance to how cruelly stupid she made herself appear to be. I feel safe in attesting that this was nothing but cold calculation on her part.

She certainly wasn't the most socially graceful person on the planet, not really much more than an unfortunate cross between Yosemite Sam and Jessica Rabbit. (With a note worthy pill addiction…) and her southern drawl sounded more like someone who lived in a trailer, and lot less like someone attending a cotillion. (I suspect there were very few mint juleps on the lanai in her life time.)

But what is most important is that she was human, just like the rest of us. Maybe I'm getting old, but that notion rings a lot less hollow than it used to for me. Instead of the glib hatred, I have only sadness. There was a life that was far from ordinary, and yet it still managed to get wasted. That truly is a tragedy.

Update...

2007-02-12T10:26:00.001-08:00

Last week turned out well. I put five shows in the can, and there wasn’t a stinker in the pile. I like weeks like that. I managed to video tape all of them too. (Keep your eyes peeled over the next little while, because I will be replacing the audio on this Myspace site with shiny new video clips.)

I had a few hecklers along the way, and I dispatched them with relative ease. Normally I like to play with them for a bit before I smack them down, (Like a cat with a mouse, or Conservative with a Liberal…) but on the Friday late show I had one that made me angry! I wound up stepping out of character for a minute to roast him… I came out swinging, and I hit way harder than I need to. I have to admit, it felt good, but I really could have been gentler and still got my point across.

The end of the week also spelled the end of a visit with a good friend. One of my most favourite comics to work with went back to America on Sunday. The weather here was less that favourable, and I really wasn’t envious of his planned one day trek back to Tacoma. (In truth, I think I would have preferred a root canal, or an “unexpected” toe nail removal.)

Other Stuff,

I’ve started thinking in earnest again about making a DVD. My last attempt at the process was less fruitful that I had hoped, but now I think I see what mistakes were made, and feel ready to entertain the notion again. Hopefully I can get it sorted out in the spring, and release it for the fall. I would really be happy with that timetable for sure.

After this most recent flurry of activity, I have some time away from stand up. I have a couple of shows on the 24th of this month at Yuks here in Calgary, but from that point on, I have some time off. I’m looking forward to that. The day job combined with the night job can really beat the life out of me, so a few weeks with just one will seem like a vacation. (Yeah right!)

This weekend is a really long one for me. I get both Friday and Monday off. I like that. 4 days of doing nothing but napping, eating, and hopefully more napping. I might take some time to play with the cult thingy again. I really need to create a new “myspace” site and dedicate it to the construction of this “order.” I will need your help dear friends to help propel it to super star status. (The more I think about it, the more myspace really needs a cult…)

Anyhoo, more to come as I think of it.

I'm feeling fine...

2007-02-09T13:16:00.000-08:00

Last night I did a showcase for Comedy Now. I must say, it went better than I had hoped for. All day I worked hard at treating the showcase in the most ambivalent of ways, (in my head…) in an attempt to circumvent the nervousness that accompanies these sorts of things.

Perhaps this is the sign of things to come. I shall not hold my breath, (Just in case…) but it looked promising. For the first time in a while, I feel like I put a foot forward and more importantly a foot back on the path. Touring and club dates are good, but getting my lazy creative ass moving again is even better. I like the feeling inside when the rust falls off.

I’ve got a bit of a second wind these days. This new (?) character I’ve built has come roaring out of the shadows like a wild banshee. I never expected to (Or thought that I would have ever really wanted to…) drag this quirky Newf out to play, but he seems to have taken over on stage. To me it’s almost like watching a Jack in the Box uncoil, except it seems a little faster and a whole lot louder.

The character seems to almost be writing its own material. After a somewhat frustrating spell, the levee has broken, and the good funny juices are flowing again. (Finally!!!) I’m hoping to start wringing out a whole new set very quickly. (With the same invective flavour, but fresher and with more down home pluck.)

This weekend is going to be really fun for me. I have four shows, all in the Calgary Yuks club, and I’m excited. It feels really good to be on stage these days; I like stretching out, and taking those moments to wander from trusted material. I now understand where George Lucas was coming from with the “force” because in a funny way, I can almost feel it. (Yes… I know that sounds retarded, but it’s true…) I’m a lot stronger than I‘ve been in a while; and more importantly there’s a sense in the air that momentum is building.

A Post by Any Other Name is...

2007-01-29T07:55:00.001-08:00

I always think it's funny when my parents read my blog. They get the sense of humor, but I can never tell if they really appreciate it. Hell, I'm not even sure if I appreciate it most of the time. I often think the point I'm trying to make gets lost in its scope, and winds up being mistaken for glib reactionary nonsense.

I find that a little disappointing. I try to craft the things I say in a very deliberate fashion. I don't pull punches, and I try very hard to make it an imperative to mean the things I write. Make no mistake; these words are the creed I believe, and the gospel that I preach. (But in much less grandiose terms… Think a whole lot less than messianic in nature, but a whole lot more than the credentials that penned "Friends.")

However, I do see the folly in it. To some, this blog is just another in a string of pseudo political psychobabble op Eds. (Say that 10 times fast… I double dog dare you…) to most who read my stuff, I'm just some schmo with an opinion. Still even there are some who read this would even go as far to accuse me of being the village idiot, and I'm okay with that. Disagreement I never take issue with. I like the challenge that can arise from it. To be clear though, I mostly am the village idiot, but I have the balls to say what I think. I am a simpleton of conviction. That's got to be good for something right? (That and 35 cents will get you a phone call… if you can actually find a pay phone.)

As with most writers and even more so with comedians, I have a nearly overbearing need to be understood. It's a little self-serving, but then again, if there were no reader or audience, I would be out of a job. That would suck. (To put it mildly.) The only real trap I set for myself, is that I expect my reader to be as curious, or angry, or confused as I am. When that's not the case, I find myself let down. It deflates me, and makes me wonder if I am alone. I feel alone a lot.

Today though, when I talked to the folks, it all got a little clearer for me. Dad said my posts usually make him laugh, (no small feat to be sure… He's a tough nut to crack.) even though he finds it a bit strange sometimes. My Mom on the other hand, thought it was funny that I started my own cult, and that really the only criteria for joining is to pony up some dough. (And well to drink the Kool Aid…) Happily their opinions mean more to me than just about anyone else's. To say I found it inspiring would be an understatement of galactic proportions.

Curiously though, they both noticed that I have a tendency to use subtext sparingly, which is true for the most part. I have always figured that beating around the bush never gets you anywhere.

Generally sarcasm and allegory have been the tools of my trade, (Not forgetting that sweet mistress irony, which to me is like sweet creamy chocolate, or the scent of Jasmine in the air on a warm summer night.) because they drive the point home. I'm a fan of using railway spikes, when a simple nail would do. (The true irony being that we live in times where railway spikes seem to be the only effective way after all, no matter how hard nail salesmen would tell you otherwise.)

The Kool Aid chronicles…

2007-01-16T11:45:00.001-08:00

The weekend was pretty slack around the old ranchero. I played some hockey, and watched a couple of flicks, and generally shirked off doing anything serious. I really might as well have had an anchor tied to my ass.

I’ve started looking into the logistics of starting my own church. (All the legal stuff…) The more I think about it, the more I wanna do it... I think (not with absolute certainty mind you…) that if I really go ahead with this, I will be the first ever stand up comic to start his own legally recognized church. That will add a twist to the resume for sure.

Now I just have to start constructing the articles of faith, and the constitution of the church. And build a small army of priests and priestesses to help re-educate the masses. Holy shit this is gonna be hard work! (Which reminds me, these positions are currently for sale. Patronage, if used correctly really can work out nicely for everyone. Send me an email for the details…)

I really like the idea of using this cult idea as a platform to promote the idea of me as a dictator for life. I’ve had just about enough of this whole democracy thing; it just gets in the way of getting shit done. I’ve decided to take a couple of pages out of President Bush’s playbook. It has become all to clear to me, that too many of you morons are allowed to vote. This must stop. In order to get us back on an enlightened path, we need to break a few eggs (and perhaps crack a few skulls… I’m looking your way again Mormon David…)

I think this country needs a shake up, and I think I just might be the man for the job. If Iran can do it, then why can’t I? Hell I would be happy with just being the new “spiritual leader” because that job’s got some serious perks, not the least of which would be “sexy parties.” (Who doesn’t like a good sexy party?)

Let’s face some facts Canada. You hapless rubes don’t have a clue what you’re doing. You have become nothing more than cogs in the machine. Long gone is the hope of working towards something better. (It’s blown away like a sand castle in the wind…)

Sure calling you names isn’t winning any support, but you deserve it. You have become complacent. Happily though, I have the answer. I am Deus ex machina sprung to life from the ashes of your troubles. From Zygote to Zeitgeist, I am the answer. (Just drink the Kool Aid…) You’ll feel better one you become a member of the First Church of Marcus, Miscreant. All you have to do is surrender. I’ll do the rest. (Please note, a *minimum donation to the church is required to guarantee your place at my side.)

* 25 percent of total household income.

More dispatches from the faith soon…

The Cult...

2007-01-09T23:24:00.001-08:00

I’ve decided to start my own cult. Initially the idea came to me as a tax dodge. I figure the less of my money “The New Canadian Government” gets the better. Since religious organizations (i.e. Churches…) get enormous tax breaks, I thought perhaps it might be time to investigate the concept further.

I first thought about a more legitimate sounding churchy type thing. But the more I labored over the idea, the clearer it became that it must be a cult. After taking a gander at the success the Mormons’ have had with theirs, it occurred to me that I could really have some fun with it.

As with any good cult, you need a killer name. A bad name can be a real deal breaker. Given the failure of some really cool cults with crappy names (Moonies, Raliens… etc…) it’s fairly obvious to me that it’s got to be a real zinger. Those crazy like a muthafucka Scientologists picked a real gooder, and look at the mileage they’ve managed to squeeze out of it. (Tom Cruise has kinda become their pope, and I have got to say, that is totally fuckin’ awesome. That poor bastard blurts out the most amazing rubbish with the conviction and sobriety of a judge. I admire that.)

So I bashed it around for a while, I kept coming back to one called “The Church Of Jesus Christ, Scientist.” It’s brilliant. To me I imagine Jesus peering through a microscope, perhaps adjusting the lens a little, then looking up and saying something like “Egads… I’ve discovered sin…” or some other such nonsense. I decided to spoof it a little. So without further ado, here it is. “The First Church or Marcus, Miscreant” I think it has a ring to it.

Now some cults have some really neat practices. The Raliens for instance believe in-group sex (with or without clones…), and wear really funny clothes. The Moonies got down and got into mass weddings. My favorite though is the Mormons. Just cause they’re a little nutty. They really think they’re normal. It’s kinda sweet, in a “There’s a sucker born every minute” way.

For some reason I picture Mormons praying to a giant robot. (Oddly enough named “Mormon.”) In my head it eats puppies and shits out dogma. (Punny I realize…) I’m almost certain this doesn’t actually happen, but hey… It’s my imagination!!!
If you are a Mormon, and I have offended you with this, you need better hobbies than reading my drivel.

Getting back to my cult for a moment…

I think the functionaries of my new “spiritual organization” should wear tweed jackets and Chuck Taylor’s in place of any more formalized vestments. Instead of using liturgical silver of any sort, I figure slurpee cups should do nicely. The cheaper and less formal this whole thing is, the better. To my way of thinking, comfort brings us that much closer to enlightenment anyway.

Instead of passing around a sacrament of bread or wine, I think huffing gas fits better. Again, it’s cheap, and it gets you fucked up. How can that be bad? (High and frugal, it’s hard to believe it’s legal. And tax breaks, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me…)

More important to fathom is the language used to entice what will be the rank and file members of the cult. Gone are the Amen’s, and the Testifies… In my organization, a simple “Giver” is all that is required. It’s nothing that isn’t already in the common lexicon of your average Canadian. Sure it’s a little low brow, but I’m not looking for Oxford scholars here. Without the schmos (see “The Faithful” in the dictionary…) this whole thing will head straight for the shitter.

I think it might be mighty amusing to serve Kool Aid to my committed flock. (Someone’s gotta drink it.) This cult is going to be awesome, and will likely taste great too. “OH YEAH!

As the spiritual leader of this newfound faith, my entourage must be heavily laden with preening Thai Lady boys. Nothing lends credibility like a collection of “rent a hermaphrodites.” Screw you Gwen Stephanie, I got me an Asian posse too.

Anyhoo, more to come as I think of it.

Cranky Shit

2006-12-27T00:31:00.001-08:00

My ire has returned, it came back nearly as fast as I could profess its dissipation. All it took was a by-line in the newspaper. The next few sentences that proceeded the by-line dumped gallons of kerosene on the fire.

Why is it that every time the Prime Minister opens his fool mouth, I get a headache?

That right wing “Baby Bush” wannabe in a cheaper suit, (That’s right Bitches… it’s your Daddy’s Boulevard club! You know… From Sears!) Stephen Harper has arrogantly intimated that we should prepare for a general election. His platform would be based on the erroneous belief that we should stay the course in Afghanistan. (God Damn, I really wish someone would smack the grin off of that man’s cocksure face. And while they’re at it, how about a whack or two at Rona Ambrose… Someone’s got to tell her that she’s nothing more than the new “less interesting” Belinda Stronach. It would be an act of compassion. A kindness I wouldn’t normally offer a conservative, but one I think she deserves.)

But I digress, I’m floored by the sheer audacity of Harper to try and make political hay over the war. It’s a cheap, grubby attempt to gather a majority in the House of Commons. More importantly, it further proves that he devaluates the lives of Canadian soldiers. All this says is “You are all dispensable, and the only importance you have is to fulfill my agenda.” This is shabby sir. You’ve become the fat cat you rallied against. Instead of abusing public funds, you differ only in that you abuse the public.

To Mr. Harper I say this, “prove me wrong!” How many of our soldiers have perished on your watch? How many more will die? What gives you the right to use them for your agenda? (Especially since you are a minority PM. Kinda ballsy, but kinda stupid too.)

Mr. Harper, you remind me of a stern and shrewish old nurse, holding out a spoon laden with cod liver oil, demanding that we take it for our own good. (Except the medicine is tainted in this case.)

What happened to the mission to help reconstruct Afghanistan’s infrastructure? Wasn’t that what we were supposed to be doing? Weren’t we supposed to be helping the Afghanis to learn to defend themselves from the Taliban? How did we wind up being an occupation force?

Didn’t we used to be peacekeepers? On behalf of this glorious nation, I would like to thank you for following America’s path. Thanks for chewing up the goodwill we had, and for replacing it with frustration and contempt. I agree that the Taliban needs to be excised from the face of the earth, but just plain ole killing them doesn’t seem to be working. Wouldn’t it reflect better on everyone involved if we were to say “HELP THESE FUCKING PEOPLE DIG OUT OF ABJECT POVERTY,”

Remember the parable about giving a man a fish vs. teaching a man to fish? Oddly it seems to work.

Stuff...

2006-12-19T16:09:00.000-08:00

All has been pretty quiet lately. Gearing up for Xmas has pretty much put the brakes on the stuff that I like to rant about. Perhaps I’ve managed to imbibe myself on the highly commercialized, yet still enjoyable Xmas spirit. It’s likely that that is tempering my usual distemper. I want to rage, riot, and snarl, but I feel a lot like a junkyard dog who’s just been given a meaty hambone. My attention has been essentially diverted by a pleasant distraction. (For now…)

I know a lot of people who are down on Xmas. For the record, I don’t really like most of them. (Well about half of them…) I’m a sucker for this time of year. I love it. I love buying things for others. It’s fun, plain and simple. I wish everyday could be Xmas.

Other stuff…

I did a show in Bassano with Kevin McGrath and Paul Myerhaug on Saturday night. It was a content restricted show. (No swearing, or ahem… grotesque sexual content. Not my usual cup of tea by any stretch.) I was surprised at how well it went. The organizers were more than very accommodating. (An understatement for sure. They really bent over backwards for us. It would be a pleasant fiction to believe that all gigs should be this way.)

Our dressing room had been loaded down with snacks of all sorts, and they really worked hard at trying to make sure we were comfortable. They even had a proper stage with a decent spotlight. (Which is mighty rare at a corporate gig… usually it’s a karaoke machine and couple of pallets with a sheet of plywood on it.)

The crowd turned out in droves. There must have been close to 300 people. I tried to mill around a bit, but I find it hard to glad hand. I hate it soooo much. I always feel awkward. (Partially because people insist on telling you all the sordid minutia of their lives, or worse, a horrifically racist joke.)

It was nice to hook up with both Paul and Kevin. These two guys are some of my favourites in stand up land. Kevin and I wound up having a great conversation. I forgot how good a dude he really is.

More stuff…

I took the Golf in for some minor servicing this morning. (The annoying little yellow airbag light seems to be stuck on. I hate little yellow lights! For that matter, I pretty much hate yellow… Nothing good is yellow, with the notable exception of Lemon Meringue Pie. Which if made well can be quite lovely.) I have to say, the good people at Volkswagen were mighty nice, especially since I had to be there at 8 this morning.

Their car service took me to work this morning. (Actually it was an enormous passenger van…) The driver was a German. (Not too big a stretch that a German would work for VW I guess.) He was a hoot. At one point the car in front of us was speeding up and slowing down for no apparent reason. He screamed “I AM COMING FOR YOU NOW LADY.”

I roared with what can only be described as glee. The tone and pitch of his voice was brilliantly psychotic. This driver truly had an awesome sense of humour. (Or he was brilliantly psychotic for real… either way I was happy…)

Politics Abound...

2006-12-07T23:32:00.001-08:00

Saturday was a weird day. It almost seemed like a day of renewal for Canadian politics. The Liberals picked a new leader, and most likely the wrong one. (Again! Damn it’s getting harder and harder to be a Liberal in this country. If it wasn’t for the fact that I find both the New Democrats and the Conservatives so smarmy and vacant, I’d head for different political waters…)

Stephan Dion, while certainly very nice, and clearly a man willing to put his money where his mouth is, seems too soft to get into the muck with Harpo and his cronies. Much like the Democrats in America, the grits here need a fighter, a fire brand if you will. Soft gets you nothing but second place.

Truth be told, the man to take down Harper is Ignatief. This is a man who understands the Conservatives, and has the gears of war in tow. More to the point, Ignatief is smarter than Harper, and they both know it. The fight between these two parties is likely going to be a full on fist fight. Regardless of who wins, both sides are going to get bloodied. (For some reason, I imagine Jack Layton weeping uncontrollably, and begging hysterically for the fight to stop… “Stop the punching… I’m going to pee myself, and Olivia is out of wet wipes…”)

Dion appears to be more of a Xmas present to the ruling Conservatives. Harper must be rubbing his hands with glee. (Like a fat kid peering in the window of the candy store…) He (quite correctly I suspect…) sees a Conservative majority on the horizon, and with that, the right time to unfurl his real agenda on the Canadian populace.

I could be wrong. Perhaps Dion is like a sleeping lion. Maybe the party is playing possum. “Look at us… all dishevelled and bent out of shape, we sure are easy pickings.” Perhaps the strategy is to use the entire spate of former leadership hopefuls as a sort of super team. (Much like the Super friends… but with dramatically fewer super powers…) Collectively they could blindside Harper. (Mind you, just about anything could… Like a flock of vegan lesbians hell bent on marriage… And that’s just for starters…)

Truthfully I want my Liberals to come out swinging. Beating the war drum, and ready to call Harper on everything. There is no time for niceties, not anymore, now is the time to meet every foul word in kind, and every sneer with the proper distain it deserves.

Other stuff…

I went and voted in the Alberta PC leadership race. In order to vote against the very sleazy Ted Morton, I had to join the party. (I felt more than queasy about this…) Normally it would be a very cold day in hell, but because this had an impact on who would be the Premier here, it had to be done. So… Till the end of this month, I am officially a PC.

I can hardly wait until the membership lapses. I suspect I’ll want to take a very long shower. Hmmm… I wonder if bleach can remove emotional dirt.

On the second of Jan, I will happily not be associated with any party again. (Well not in terms of membership…

More to come later…

4 Trillion... That's a Spicy Meatball...

2006-11-30T23:54:00.001-08:00

I’m a little tired today. Last night I fell asleep on the couch. The last thing I recall was watching a classic 1973 animated Star Trek episode. It was by my recollection, pretty entertaining. (Yes I know I’m a huge geek. Not just Star Trek, but animated… As if it could get any geekier…) As if an animated Shatner isn’t that much more amusing.

The weather here is ungodly. Today was the first day of respite. That last few days here have been evil. Minus 30 is not what humans were designed for. (Especially this human.) That is the kind of cold that punches you in the face. Since when is November the month when Satan unleashes this foul arctic hatred of his.

I truly believe that hell is frosty, it has to be, because that is the worst punishment I can possibly imagine. Fuck the fires of hell; I’m willing to bet it’s nothing but giant mountainous snow banks. Satan in my humble estimation looks a lot like Frosty the Snowman. (Except his eyes are actually burning coal embers…)

Other stuff…

I listen to the pod cast of Bill Maher’s “Real Time” quite frequently. Today he said something that really struck a chord with me. The easiest path to defeating the Republicans in the next election is to remind Americans that Bush and his cronies spent 4 trillion dollars on tax cuts for the rich, (like Paris Hilton), and on a war that still hasn’t managed to capture and kill Osama Bin Laden. That’s a lot of children left behind.

How many hot meals for the poor is that? How many reconstructed homes in New Orleans? This is despicable on a level that can’t even be fathomed. Go ahead and try… I bet your brain freezes in the process. Why Americans haven’t risen up with torches and pitchforks and run this lunatic outta Washington is beyond me.

In fact the actual price of the war on a per basis is 10,000 dollars. Per minute! Imagine what the poorest family in America could do with 10 grand. The prospects are staggering.

I got to thinking what I would do with 4 trillion dollars. Here’s my list:

1) I would find permanent housing solutions for the people of New Orleans.
2) Schools are dramatically under funded. They need books, computers, and teachers that are paid fairly for the work they do. Most teachers are buckling under the weight of too many kids and next to no support.
3) I would help the people of Afghanistan. Since the invasion, their infrastructure is fucked. A decent quality of life would make the Taliban seem much less tempting I should think.
4) I would actually make a sincere effort to capture Osama Bin Laden. He is a criminal, and needs to be dragged in front of a world tribunal. I would also make a sincere effort to have George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, Condi Rice, and Donald Rumsfeld arrested and charged with crimes against humanity.
5) I would rebuild Iraq. (Without the “assistance of Halliburton, or Kellogg, Brown and Root.)
6) I would sponsor a “Steel Cage Match” pitting right wing spin-doctors Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, Anne Coulter, and Bill O’reilley against every single heart broken mother of a soldier that was lost in Iraq. Those hate-fuelled cocksuckers need a smack down in the worst kind of way. Hell Hath no fury like a mother with nothing left to loose. I’ll put the whole wad down on Cindy Sheehan. I find it easy to picture her holding Coulter’s head face down in a puddle of murky water. (I almost find a comfort in that image.)
7) I would buy Kim Jong ill out. With that kinda dough, you know you could take over North Korea. Let’s face it, the man’s whacked, but everybody’s got a price… right?
8) I would pay all the campaign expenses for a run at the presidency for Willie Nelson and Kinky Friedmen. That’s an America the world needs.
9) I would make all HIV / AIDS drugs free for all that need them.
10) I would buy FOX, and give it to Al Gore. (Just to watch Rupert Murdoch shit himself.)
11) I would hire Ralph Klein, and make him get drunk and dance for me. (Oh Yeah, and I want him to sing too… “Buffalo Girls won’t you come out tonight… Come out tonight… Come out tonight…”)
12) And lastly… I would throw a kegger the likes of which no one has ever scene.

Anyway… That’s it for now… More to come as I think of it…

Better Late Than Never...

2006-11-28T00:10:00.000-08:00

The last several weeks have been super busy. Between touring, working and somehow managing to buy a new car, I have managed to run myself ragged. Happily Christmas is coming soon, and I’ll be able to slam on the breaks for a week or so.

For those keeping up, Cranbrook was okay. The shows were pretty much what I expected them to be. Friday sucked, and Saturday was great. Batting .500 is par for the course there.

The new car is great. Erin and I plunked down the cash for a new VW Golf. It rocks. It’s a like having a little silver rocket. I took it on the Deerfoot the other day, and I must say it handles like a dream. Those crazy Germans sure know how to build a car.

This past weekend was a little taxing. I went to Grande Prairie. It can best be described this way: Two days, three shows and 1400 clicks, with little more than a migraine and a few dollars to show for it.

Friday went swimmingly, and the first show on Saturday, which was a corporate no less, went quite well. The later show started out with promise, but descended into hell in just under 20 minutes. Somehow I lost control, and wound up having to fight off three hecklers. I would have been better off if I had just punched myself in the nuts over and over again for the last ten minutes or so. It really would have been easier, and ultimately less painful.

To those drunken mullet headed fuck wits, and you bloody well know who you are. I have only this to say. I HOPE YOU FREEZE TO DEATH IN THAT CRAP HOLE YOU SLITHERED OUT OF. JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN’T READ, OR LISTEN, OR PROCESS THOUGHTS IN A COHESIVE FASHION, DOESN’T MEAN THAT YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO DISPLAY YOUR IGNORACE. I DON’T WANT OR NEED YOUR DRUNKEN BITTERNESS. I HAVE PLENTY OF MY OWN.

Other stuff…

Pammy Anderson’s pulled the plug on her 16-week marriage. Jeez, way to stick it out Pam. (After like 3 wedding ceremonies too…) now that’s what I call tenacity. With that kind of wherewithal it’s of little wonder that my kinfolk are still savagely clubbing seals. She’s truly become a fantastic little homegrown train wreck. Come home, our hearts have swelled with pride. You’re like our very own, less talented Britney Spears. But it could be worse I suppose. You could be our very own, less talented Pink.

Still more stuff…

I’ve been enjoying the fallout from the walloping Bush took in the midterm elections. He still looks pretty shell-shocked. (PTSD for the GOP…) The rats are jumping off this sinking ship faster than Ben Johnson in the middle of a steroid fuelled rage. Rush Limbaugh practically kicked baby Bush in the shins. He couldn’t have distanced himself any faster if he had been the fastest chicken in the slaughterhouse.
Seeing Rick Santorum fuck himself out of his seat was splendid too. His bigoted, anti gay, “women should be barefoot and pregnant” ass finally got the good old-fashioned hate fucking it so richly deserved. Pennsylvania should beam with pride that it has finally stepped into the late 1970’s.

Anyhoo, More to come as I think of it.

Some Thoughts on The Aftermath...

2006-11-09T00:28:00.000-08:00

I was tickled pink at hearing Bush announce that Donald (The soulless ghoul…) Rumsfeld will no longer be the secretary of defense. Better still was listening to him try and placate the public, who dropped a bunker buster on his political majority. Seeing Bush grovel at the new Democrat masters was lovely. It was clear to all who watched his new conference this afternoon; George’s world has been rocked. (It’s about fucking time…) You’d almost swear he developed a nervous tick overnight. At least he didn’t start pouting in public. (I bet he called his mommy though…)

However, the best piece of news coming from the election yesterday was the crushing defeat of Rick Santorum. Finally that hate monger has been put in his place. His political career has been eviscerated. Now he’s nothing more than human chum. Hopefully he’ll slither back under his rock, never to be seen again. (He kinda reminds me of Golem, but in a thousand dollar business suit…)

Perhaps a new day really is dawning in America. Mind you, putting this bit in the president’s horsey mouth smacks more of protest than of any sort of real desire to change. The Democrats aren’t really all that different than the Republicans these days. (Other than they have unwillingness to engage the later on the same level.)

Can these “Shiftless” Liberals really begin the undo the damage caused by the last six years of greed orientated Conservatives? Who knows, but as near as I can figure, anything’s better than another day of unrestrained Conservative external policy.

Regardless, Bush has been refocused. He’s now officially a lame duck. He’d be better off now by turning to legacy projects and letting the real governance be handled by those newly elected folks who are still excited to be headed to Washington. (For some reason I picture them whistling while they work…)

When You Wish Upon a Star...

2006-11-07T23:25:00.000-08:00

“All endangered species leave endangered feces,
If you knew how bad they smelt, you would gladly
Take their pelt…” – Corky and The Juice Pigs

Open Letter to Paris Hilton.

Dear Paris,

It has come to my attention via MSN that you desire to have a star on the Hollywood walk of fame. Once I wiped my eyes, caught my breath, and generally regained my composure, I quickly began to realize that you were serious.

First off, let me say that it’s entirely more likely that Hitler would get a tree planted on the path of the righteous in Jerusalem, than say… you getting a star on the walk of fame. That may sound harsh, but it’s the gospel truth. This may rain on your parade, but at least it’s not a golden shower. (For once…) Your 15 minutes of fame has already lasted too long. How you’ve managed to stretch it this far is a miracle onto itself.

Generally speaking, the people who receive a star on the walk have made some sort of tangible contribution to the entertainment industry. (Other than orally pleasuring a sleaze merchant in a home movie…) Let’s face it… So far your achievements have been somewhat dubious. Sure you’ve diversified since your first “on camera” performance, but let’s call a spade a spade here. It’s all utter shit.

Your mere musings about getting a star earn you a place in infamy. I almost admire that kind of gall. This total lack of shame is an unpleasant reminder of just how fucked Hollywood really is, and more specifically you are a cautionary tale to all those who would spoil the ever living shit out of their children.

You are like a Grim Brothers’ fairy tale come to life. You are a wolf in wolves clothing.

But let’s turn to your meagre offerings. Perhaps I’m wrong.

As near as I can tell, your music career can be best described as more artificial that Madonna’s intentions for adoption, (Fuck you Brangelina! You’re not the only ones who can get a pet African…) and that single sounds like someone smacking around a pregnant house cat with a rattan rug beater. Calling it a sack of crap is an insult to sacks of crap everywhere. It has almost caused my to question my faith in a higher power.

As for your achievements in cinema… The most inspiring moment to date has been seeing you get a shaft of wood lodged into your head (Somewhat ironic I would argue…) in the less than inspiried “House of Wax” (Equally ironic don’t you think?).

Everyone I know cheered when we saw that footage. We actually played it over and over again. It has become my Zapruder film. It brings a tear to my eye each and every time I watch it. Back and to the Right Paris… Back and to the right!!!

Watching you act is about as uncomfortable to me as watching “Deliverance” over and over again. It makes my stomach churn, and repeatedly forces me to avert my eyes. (Yet sometimes I have to peek between fanned out fingers…)

Television really wasn’t much better for you either. You and that dopey Ritchie kid’s adventures through the lands that evolutionists chose to forget about had little to write home about. Being the biggest cock tease in reality TV history leaves an indelible mark, but it’s hardly something to be proud of. For the record, it’s not HOT… It’s downright tragic.

You are a hateful, spoiled, and rotten. One-day karma will come a calling. Hopefully you’ll wind up as a permanent cast member on Hollywood Squares. Perhaps you’ll be one seat above Gordon Jump and one below the guy who played Mad Murdock on the “A-Team.” I can think of no better a punishment. The sooner you’re a footnote in entertainment history, the better for all of us.

If you really wanna leave a mark, how about starting a foundation for the victims of amoral, vapid, culturally bankrupt, wannabe stars who trample over those that they cannot fuck on their way up the social ladder.

No Star for you. Not now, not ever.

I like Touching My Balls...

2006-11-05T23:46:00.000-08:00

Last night I did a show in Evansburg Alberta. The show went reasonably well, with only a minor hitch or two along the way. The crowd was nice, but not as rowdy as I would have expected. In every respect it was your typical rural town watering hole. (Although cleaner than most.) The first thing I noticed when I walked into the bar was a shrine to Dale Earnhardt junior. It was a little odd I thought, but not to be unexpected. People in small towns like racing. They love it in fact. The whole thing is lost on me.

I have to admit, I loathe NASCAR. I just don’t get it. Watching cars go round and round in a circle for a few hours is fucking boring. Truly I’ve a hard time imagining anything that might be more boring to me. I’ve sat through insurance seminars, and mid level marketing pitches that were light years more interesting. I would rather push needles into my eyes, and be forced to watch “Mary Kate and Ashley go to Europe” (The outtakes in Amsterdam are not to be missed! At one point Ashley gets sold by Mary Kate to a sex show for a carton of smokes and a mickey of Absinthe… And the hilarity ensues…) than ever spend an afternoon watching NASCAR.

But I digressed, after the show, the other comics and I sat with the owner of the pub, and proceeded to get blotto. It was nice to sit around a get shit faced and shoot the shit for a while. The owner of the venue likes comedy a lot, and has surprisingly very sophisticated tastes. He knew his shit, which is totally nice to see. It sure beats those venues where the staff treats you like a karaoke machine, or sees you as the latest form of trash they’ve been forced to foist on stage.

When I finally crashed out at the hotel, I wound up having a very strange dream. I dreamt that I was performing at a show, and things were going reasonably well (Not the odd part…) when suddenly the fire alarm went off. People started panicking, and for some reason the best I could muster was to stand there and jiggle my nuts.

People were screaming, smoke started to fill the room, and I just stood there with a big fat idiot grin, rooting around with my ball sack. It was the best I could do in the situation. That’s fucked. (That’s inkblot and straightjacket fucked!)

It’s important to note, that I did not panic. It was quite the opposite in fact. The world was burning around me, and I happily failed to see the sense of urgent emergency and impending doom. I was like Nero, but the fiddling was entirely different.

The dream really bothered me. I’d like to think in the middle of chaos I would react in a fashion that’s dictated by the moment.

But in a strange way, this dream is kinda like how I imagine George Bush reacts to a crisis. Given that he looks like a cross between Glen Quagmire and Alfred E. Neumann, it’s really not hard to imagine him playing pocket pool in the middle of the maelstrom.

This is what I picture in my mind’s eye. Condi Rice spinning in a circle, screaming something like “Sweet Jesus, We’re all gonna die…” and Donald Rumsfeld running around with a fire extinguisher barking out “Outta my way, I’m a fucking hero you bitches…”
Dick Cheney is putting his “Emperor” from Star Wars robes on, while rubbing his hands together like Golem. “Soon the precious will be mine… Muahahahahahahahahaha!”

And Georgie boy is just standing there having a good ole Texas style root at his berries.

Now that’s what I call “The Leader of the Free World.”

Good news, only two days left until all those evil fuckers get a massive shake up. Soon George will be an early lame duck, and congress will be run by shiftless Liberals. This will likely not change the amount ball massages in Washington, but at least the Republicans will be castrated.

End of Transmission.

The New Job.

2006-10-25T23:44:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been a little taxing. This getting up before the sun thing sucks. That’s right folks, I have started a new day job. Gone now are the joyfully days of being a man of leisure. I have become a minute cog in the wheel of a machine. I am a man, who now must toil in the minutia of the day-to-day corporate world.

The only real catharsis for me is that I do this so I can chase my goals and have a quality of life at the same time. Being a Canadian entertainer is a tough road to hoe. The rewards are great, but the path is fraught with strange twists and turns. (And sometimes vicious circles… but that’s another story for another time.)

Oh how I long for the carefree days of just last week. A mere week ago, I only had to worry about packing for the move. That was it. (Insert moronic laugh track here…) Now, I have to politely excuse myself from offering any sort of substandard help to those who would ask. The only thing I have in my say to them in my defense is, “Sorry I’m the new guy.” Which can only really be described as pretty meager or flimsy at best. (Translation… I’m a fucking retard, who should need a license to manipulate a pencil sharpener. Fuck I cut myself again…) God forbid they should permit me to have an x-acto knife. That would spell certain doom. I wish I was kidding.

I managed two paper cuts in little less than the first hour on the job. Jealous? I knew you would be. For those that think I might be clever, the jokes on you! The current company newspaper headline reads “Retarded New Guy Cuts Himself With Paper, Officials roll eyes”

I’m willing to bet there’s already an office pool about when I get my shirt caught in a paper shredder, or get knocked out when I try to change the water in the cooler. (Likely in some sort of “Three’s Company, Jack Tripper, slapstick sort of way.”) I wonder if I can bet on myself. I really need to find the office bookie, because let’s face it, a few extra bucks never hurts.

It’s a little hard on the psyche to be judged as a simpleton because of my lack of tenure in my new position. I will survive, and likely thrive, but in the mean time, I’m the goof. It’s the cross I have to bear. I hope to Christ they hire someone else soon, so I’ll be less of a heat score.

Mind you, yesterday I suggested to my new supervisor that she should think of me as little more than a “hairless ape” when it comes to any semblance of a skill set. She laughed. I tried to convince her that I wasn’t joking. She laughed again. This is going to be interesting. It really wasn’t mean’t to be any sort of icebreaker. I really am kinda dumb sometimes.

My new hamster cage is currently missing its water bottle and wheel. I put in a request for these essential office supplies. As of yet, I have not heard back. I suspect they are on back order.

Not that it’s really a bad thing. To be sure it’s a good thing to claw back some discipline. I’ve been slack for a little too long. My couch was starting to get too deep a groove from my lazy arse. The only real sticky issue for me is the level of exhaustion I feel when I leave.

Now I know why worker bees look like zombies when they head home from work.

Anyhoo… more tales from the eastern front as they arise.

End of transmittal.

Vote for me!

2006-10-22T01:39:00.000-07:00

I was walking on the Red Mile today, and I saw a sign that struck me as quite funny. It was for some fortuneteller / psychic. The sign said “85 percent accurate.” That had me in stitches. How on earth would claim that with any credibility? Is there some sort of survey or research metric that measures metaphysical / occult powers?

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your psychic on their ability to forecast that you will meet someone new, sometime, perhaps in the next couple of days, and that they may or may not begin a relationship with you, that might lead to happiness or tragedy?”

What a croc of shit! 85 percent accurate my foot. Ha… That’s as preposterous as saying “I invented wood.” or “The Brooklyn Bride was made by elves that lived on a steady diet of possum fat and lead paint” or better still “I had a gang bang with Britney Spears, Elton John, and the freshly exhumed body of Tupac Shakur.”

Don’t get me wrong; I love a good psychic as much as the next sucker. I’m always amused by their prognostications. I’m willing to spend the cash, but only if it’s going to be really outrageous. I went to one a couple of years ago, and she said I was going to become a successful lawyer. Better still, she said she saw me in public office. Me… Trust me when I say, nobody wants that. (It would get out of hand quickly…)

Try to imagine me as the Prime Minister. I would go from zero to corrupt so fast, it would be a land speed record. I would encourage call girls to help me run for office, and then give them cushy jobs within government ministries. Then I would invite world leaders to come for a visit, just so I could say, “You ain’t shit. My bitches run the whole fucking country for me aieeeeeght!”

I would use the Canada One jet to party! “Fuck you Doug Stanhope and fuck your Girls Gone Wild. I’ve got Stronach, and she is good to go! That’s just the way I roll.” I just know that Belinda would be in there like schmindere… (Sure she needs a little more “encouragement” than say a trucker cap or some beads, but the video would be worth it. Picture this “Parliamentarians Gone Wild…” It has a certain je ne sais quoi! Don’t you think?) This Prime Minister has got skills and game!

I would also decommission the RCMP in favor of letting bikers run the show with reckless abandon. Thugs are thugs as far as I’m concerned, and hell these guys are more ambitious to my way of thinking. Besides no one wants to fuck with bikers… Hey… I’m just thinking about the general public’s safety. After the Maher Arar fuck up, it’s obvious it’s time for a change. Radical times call for radical solutions.

I would sell citizenship to the highest bidders. Of course, my office would have to get a piece. Buying the support of my detractors is tricky business and requires some serious flow. This brother’s got bills to pay.

Oh… and of course I can be bought… If you want permission to move Canadian jobs to Sri Lanka, then you’ve got to line my pocket with “dead prime ministers.” You want me to “forget” about Kyoto targets, then gimme the green. Yes indeed, I can be bought.

Then again, most of this doesn’t sound that different than the status quo. (Well except for the bikers, but I’m willing to bet Harper’s been thinking about it!)

Anyhoo the moral of the story is this… Psychics are hokey! And Ahem… Vote for Me!
.

I love Me A Good Wood Chipper...

2006-10-21T00:48:00.000-07:00

I think it’s a real shame that popular entertainment has become about who’s living a more notorious lifestyle than who is good at what they do. Long gone are the days of talent being a necessity. I find it sad. I don’t give a shit who is fucking whom, or who can be the most obnoxious. For the love of God, Just sing or dance, or perhaps tell me a decent joke.

I think that we should be able to punish those entertainers that offend our entertainment sensibilities. In fact, I think I have a great idea… Given the success of shows like “American Idol”, (Which is likely the biggest, most enormous piece of festering bat guano ever conceived in the history of television...) I think it would be great if we could vote via our cell phones to see which “Star” (see oxygen thief…) we get to snuff out. The working title I have in mind is “Who Do You Want to Push Into A Wood Chipper?”

“If you wanna off that retarded himbo Ashton Kutcher then text Let’s murder the fucker! To 6666 on your cell phone...”

That would the best Punk’d episode in history.

Then I got to thinking, who would I want to put in the wood chipper?
So I came up with a list.

Here goes…

1) Donald Trump – His goofy hair alone should be enough for him to get stuffed in. Add the fact that his television show sucks, and the fact that he comes off as completely tacky and it definitely earns him a place on the list.
2) Simon Cowell – This man is likely the most ignorant cocksucker on the planet earth. If anyone ever treated me the way he treats people, I’d punch them right in the mouth. I wouldn’t even blink. That lack of respect for even the basest level of human dignity deserves nothing but utter contempt. Fuck the wood chipper, I’d shove a barrel of dynamite up his crapper and happily light the match.
3) Jessica Simpson – She should be euthenized, if only out of a sense of compassion. Anything that stupid should be put out of its misery. It’s a shame when wounded animals suffer.
4) Kevin Federline – As if the world wouldn’t be a better place if this hack became a member of the choir invisible. Seeing his desperate attempt to try and justify his meaningless existence, while exceptionally funny, is also a tragedy that no one should be forced to endure. If only he’d been satisfied with just being Mr. Spears. Oh well…
5) Jennifer Lopez – She’s like Rosie Perez but she talks gooder. Jenny from the block (And her alter ego… JLO) offered us the shittiest romantic comedies ever conceived. Watching her try an act her way out of a paper bag, is much like watching a mentally retarded poodle try and eat it’s own shit. Do not pass go, Do not collect 200 dollars, go directly to the wood chipper.
6) Pam Anderson – “I have Hep C… and I don’t know where I got it from’!” I’m willing to bet it was from fucking half the rock stars in North America. Pam Anderson can sniff out rock star cock like a truffle hog on a mushroom.
7) Andy Dick – Never has there ever been a bigger waste of skin. Truthfully a wood chipper is too good for him. I think he needs to be tied to the back of a pick up, then dragged through a cactus patch, then dipped in a vat of turpentine, then dumped in pit of used syringes (a la Saw 2…) then set on fire, doused, then set on fire again, then beaten with a golf cleat, then finally decapitated with a nail file.

The problem with this concept is that I could go on for days. Lemme know what you think. Who would you throw into a wood chipper?

That’s it for now. More to come later!

Things I Hate...

2006-10-20T22:16:00.000-07:00

Here are some things that I hate. (It’s a long list, and in no particular order.)

1) I hate the maudlin poetry written by scorned 20 somethings. It’s never clever or interesting. 99 times out of a hundred, it’s about how Mr. Right became Mr. Wrong. (Not to mention the overbearing and mellow dramatic injection of “I am stronger than you…” or “I’m better off without you…” or “I will survive…”) Now I realize people need to excise their sadness and anger, (and in some cases really wallow in it…) but for Christ sake try using something less derivative. Barbed wire and roses have been done to death, and for the record so has “Boys just don’t understand me.” Truthfully though, I tend to hate poetry anyway. I do however love a good story. (I will listen to a good rant till the cows come home.)

2) The statement “I’m not racist but…” which is always followed by something overtly racist. (“I like Asians, but man are they shitty drivers…”) Let’s get something straight; everyone on the planet has some sort of racist or bigoted tendencies, but that doesn’t mean we should revel in them, or delude ourselves into believing that we’re not. (Anyone who says they aren’t is lying to himself or herself…) I also hate organized and active racists. If you run some old “boys” club like the Klan or the Aryan Nations (the irony here being that I hate haters…), then you can pretty much just fuck off. The best thing we can do is to address where these tendencies come from inside ourselves and do our best to eliminate them. If you need to wallow in ignorance, then perhaps you should consider a career in wordsmith-orientated field of poetry. (I’d hate you less for it…)

3) I hate it when retail outlets ask for my phone number. I like to grill them about it, and remind them of PIPEDA. Hopefully it makes them feel like shit for asking. (Although I guess that it just makes me look like a dick.)

4) I hate wrestling. I have always hated wrestling. Not to put to fine a point on it, but I will always hate wrestling. I see nothing redeeming in it. To me it’s nothing more than an Alpha male soap opera. I would rather have teeth pulled, or be attacked by a rabid porcupine than watch wrestling.

5) I think Alternative rock has turned to shit. Too much “Theory of a Nickeback” and too little Foo Fighters. I would love to see Chad Kroeger get eaten by fire ants. (I bet his screams would sound an awful lot like the last five other Nickleback singles.)

6) I hate people who talk during movies. (At the theater…)

7) Neo Conservative politicians scare the shit out of me. They go against every fibre of my being. We live in times that call for innovative thinkers and new approaches, not closed minded, regressive, and greed minded brigands that fail to understand the world has changed. I choose to include the following pundits and “news people” like Bill O'Reilly, (Culture Warrior… What a douchebag!!!) Ann Coulter (The bigger, dumber, sleazier douchebag!) and Sean Hannity (Who goes well beyond douchebag... He’s a super mega intergalactic douchebag.) Why these people feel no shame about the muck the rake is beyond me. It’s like watching a baby shit itself, and then smile at you like it just won the lotto.

8) Then again, guilty whiney Liberals are just as bad. The failure to act without the motivation of guilt is just as deplorable. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge lefty (bordering on Pinko most of the time…) but I hate it when people only react, rather than be proactive because it’s the right thing to do.

9) Any movie made by the Wayans brothers. I think they are criminally bad. The world would have been a much better place without “White Chicks.” I would rather spend weeks on end making greeting cards with the mentally ill, or perhaps watch a slide show of Mormon Square dancers ripping it up in a temple in Salt Lake City than ever watch a Wayans brother flick. (This may sound glib, but it’s the fucking gospel truth.)

10) I hate the fact that myspace’s blog editor doesn’t work properly with the Safari web browser. (It does a really piss poor job supporting Mac users.) It totally ignores punctuation. That really bakes my biscuits. Shabby, Shabby, Shabby!!!

Well that’s it for today… More to come as I think of it!

Star Spangled Burkas... OR The Muslims are Coming, The Muslims are Coming!!!

2006-10-18T01:56:00.000-07:00

“Lie down, and lick the sorrow from your skin
Scratch the terror and begin to believe you’re strong.” – The Weakerthans

There was an interesting article in MacLean’s this week. It a nutshell, it makes a pseudo sound argument that the future belongs to Islam. The crux of the piece is distilled down to this. Islam is on the rise.

Now, this shouldn’t be too terribly surprising news for anyone. For starters, it has a vast supply of otherwise disenfranchised youth, in an area of the world that is experiencing a population boom. By sheer numbers alone it should seem fairly obvious. (Throw in abysmal education levels and a credible villain to point at, then stir and bake at 400 degrees until someone prints inflammatory cartoons…)

Ahem… I digress…

It also has something else, driving ambition. (Political will etc…) This alone is almost enough to plot the shape of the impending “New World Order.” Youth and ambition paired together spells trouble for the aging, contracting, and desperate west. The Muslim world wants in, and it seems that it won’t be held at bay for long.

It’s no wonder that everyone and their dog wants a piece of the Middle East. We’ve got to carve that sweet piece of ass up before anyone gets the wiser. Why negotiate or form alliances, when you can take it with jackboot? It sounded so easy, but alas the plans of mice and “other” men just seem to always get in the way.

It’s not just about oil, or terror, it’s about culture. (More specifically about the clash of cultures…) The obvious parallel is this. Islam is the new Communism. It’s the new lynch pin of social cataclysm, and guess what? It’s not going anywhere.

The notion of terrorism as the motivator for this clash is a duck blind. It was just the straw that broke the camels back. Terrorism has as much to do with this war as Archduke Ferdinand’s assassination did with World War One. It was the excuse. Someone had to drop the gloves sooner or later, just so we could fire this bitch up once and for all.

Oil’s not that credible a “fire” starter either. Hell, you can get oil just about anywhere. We Canadians have tons of it. So do the Russians, Nigerians, and a slew of others. (Not to mention the synthetic alternatives are pretty easy to get to… Like bio diesel… Strange that there’s no real political will to go in that direction…)

There I go wandering again…

It’s no wonder that America has been trying to drive as big a wedge as possible in the Muslim world. It has to. America is the vanguard of the west (Whether you like it or not, it’s the gospel truth…), It has to be seen as proactive. This is sink or swim time. There is no life preserver this time, and people are starting to panic. (Insert that damn Celine Dion song from Titanic here.)

The bitter irony here is that America has got itself caught in a catch 22. It has to fight, but in doing so, it is ultimately galvanizing the Islamic world against it. It’s quite the nasty little briar patch. It would almost be enough for a peace freak like me to hide in my bedroom and rock back and forth while sucking on my thumb. Boy am I ever glad I’m not the President. This would be a dilly of a pickle for any good leader. It’s got to be even tougher for Bush. Given that someone jiggling a set of car keys can distract him.

Mind you, given the level of paranoia you’d swear that Wal-Mart would be hawking burkas by next Ramadan. Maybe they’ll be next to the McDonalds.

Anyway, more as I think of it.

Some facts about me… The latest addition!

2006-10-14T13:25:00.000-07:00

1) I am prone to terrible headaches. I hate them. I’m suffering through one right now.
2) I loathe Dane Cook. There, I’ve said it! I feel great about it too. I don’t disparage his successes, I just hate his stuff. (And he’s a bit of a prima donna. He threw a nasty temper tantrum in a comedy club in Vancouver, and while I wasn’t there, I can with all honesty that no one needs that shit.)
3) I have a soft spot for cheesy Movies of the Week. (Especially if they managed to haul out anyone from the original cast of Charlie’s Angels to play the lead.) I have nothing to say in my defense in this matter.
4) My favorite hockey player of all time is Lanny McDonald. My current favorite is Miikka Kiprusoff.
5) I collect DVD’s. Currently I have about 400 of them. I try and watch a movie a day. I have always loved movies. It inspired me to go to film school. I discovered that I prefer to watch them rather than try and make them.
6) I get choked up in movies. If it’s sad, or it makes me angry, I weep like a brokenhearted schoolgirl.
7) I’m terrible with names. I never forget a face, but names slip past me really easily.
8) My first pet was a Siamese cat named Clementine. She was evil, but I loved her. My last pet was an Orange Tabby cross named Puck, who kinda looked like a Cossack. He lives with my sister now. (He’s evil too…)
9) I like to be alone. Not all the time, or even most of the time, but I do need me time too.
10) I have a knack for remembering trivial stuff about music. Who wrote a song, who produced it… that sort of stuff. Lord knows why, but I absorb that stuff easily.
11) I have committed crimes. Not major ones, but I have.
12) My favorite comedic actor is Kevin Klein. For dramas I like Jeremy Irons.
13) My favorite comedic actress is Carol Burnett. For dramas I’m a fan of Helen Mirren.
14) I have a guilty love of Iron Maiden. They are just about the best in cheese rock ever.
15) On my first ever trip to America, I played bingo at the VFW. (In the very sexy Greater Bottineau North Dakota area…)
16) Although The Calgary Flames are my favorite team, I’ve warmed up to The Minnesota Wild. I think they’re kinda plucky.
17) I really like Kraft Dinner. Always have, always will. I like to cut a little green onion into it once the cheese powder has been mixed in.
18) My most favorite meal in the universe is Spaghetti and Meatballs. Yum!
19) I threw eggs at Bryan Adams once. He was in his limo at the time. I enjoyed it.
20) My first rock concert ever was Huey Lewis and the News. My last concert was the Foo Fighters. They were better.
21) The first person I ever punched out of anger was a guy named Rodney Malloy. He’s an accountant now. I should look him up… and punch him again.
22) I hate hillbillies.
23) I kinda like Dog the bounty hunter, even though he’s a hillbilly.
24) I believe you are never too old to play with Lego, or Play dough.
25) I wish I could sleep.

Would you believe Prime Minister of Canada...

2006-10-14T01:25:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed just how much Stephen Harper looks like a robot? He reminds me of Hymie from Get Smart. He’s got that mechanical glaze in his eyes. He has all the wit and charm of a mound of granite, or at least that’s what he’d like us to think. He would prefer that we Canadians think of him as a party wonk.

I suspect he wants us to think of him as a man in overalls getting down to business. But is he really? I suspect this isn’t your daddy’s Conservative Prime Minister!

The truth is who knows? Harper has dropped a cone of silence over Ottawa. He’s been less than subtle about it too. (More like a swinging a bag of hammers in China shop, and a whole lot less than say snuggling warm fuzzy kittens in a nursery full of newborn babes…)

However, this begs another question. What’s the need for the clampdown on information? Why hold the proverbial cards close to the chest? Why does “The New Canadian Government” need to control the flow? (I’m actually surprised that there isn’t a “Ministry of Information” yet…)

I can only think of two reasons why Harper would want to restrict information. The first being that it just might be easier to criticize government, than say be one. Plugging leaks just might be harder than it looks. Maybe it’s a case of the grass is greener on the other side. Power has its perks to be sure, but I bet it has some nasty traps too.

Now the second reason has a little more meat to it. Perhaps there’s some real shit going on behind the scenes. Perhaps the rot of corruption has already started to crust at the bottom. Maybe it’s harder to keep that hillbilly-laden caucus of his in check. Reining in the whack jobs has got to put a little sweat on the brow. (Insert the theme from Deliverance here.)

This lot makes departing Premier Klein look sane, sober, and well adjusted. It won’t be too long until a cabinet minister does something stupid, (like bang hookers while on a trip to the Haig, or use the government jet to slobber over some payola scandal.) cause it’s human nature.

To assume you will survive unscathed is retarded. How many Mulroney people went down in flames?

To be fair though, he’s a well-spoken man. But he’s overly focused on keeping power. It’s the damnedest thing; his obsession with proving himself will likely be his ultimate downfall. He spends a lot of time hissing out venom at the Liberals, desperately trying to prove he’s different than the last prime minister. “Speaking out for Canadians” doesn’t seem to be a real agenda for him. It’s kinda like someone forgot to tell him he already has the job. (for now…)

Truthfully he should leave the rhetoric where in belongs, in the capable hands of people like myself. Now it’s time to get down to business. Mr. Harper, you’ve got your date at the dance. (Much to my chagrin… I think he’s evil personally, but that’s another story for another time.) So get to it. Now it’s time to prove you can do the job for real.

Well until Ignatief (or Rae, or whoever…) cleans your ever lovin’ clock. Canadians have little tolerance for smugness. The little good grace you have won’t take you far. So straighten up. And for Christ’s sake, take a gander at a poll once in a while. Being on the wrong side of what Canadians want isn’t gonna get you too far.

P.S. Rona Ambrose kinda looks like agent 99, and don’t even get me started on Peter Mackay.

Flamer!!!

2006-10-13T03:34:00.000-07:00

I’ve been really enjoying the American sex scandal of the week. This whole congressman Mark Foley thing is funny. Very funny indeed. (Sure the man is a pedophile… but the reactionary blather is brilliant.) I love how people can pour gasoline over themselves, then light a match and say “What?” as if nothing strange was about to happen.

I also love the rich irony that a Republican congressman, who was elected on a family values platform, has been busted for wheeling underage pages from the assembly. How dumb can one man be? A little tip Mr. Foley… mackin’ on the lil’ biatches at work is generally frowned upon. Especially when your raunchy text message pops up on a cell phone with a hello kitty sticker on it. Chances are you’re fucked in the long run, and not in the way you intended. Even Michael Jackson is smart enough to keep it in the home. (And that guy is fucked!)

But what’s better than the initial scandal is the ugly backwash. Watching his contemporaries scatter like rats on a sinking ship is almost too delicious for words. Seeing fellow Republican sputter and try to react with some feigned sense of moral outrage was hysterical. Like they didn’t know. Right, and I’m the head of the Iranian Nuclear program. As if the Republican don’t have some sort of weekly circle jerk while they rub themselves with stacks of money.

“Oh Rumsey… I think I’m cumming…”

And then seeing Pat Robertson actually call Foley a “flamer” over and over again on TV just about made me cry. It was almost too funny. I think it actually broke my sense of humor. Every time he said it, it looked as if he was spitting out white vinegar and baking soda. (Like that shitty 5th grade volcano I made for the science fair…)“FLAMER!” Like he was a 12 year old, out by the bike racks waiting to bully the poor stupid bastard. “FLAMER!” like it physically hurt him to utter the word.

But then there’s nothing like a scandal to really rally the bigots. As if judgment was their own birthright. I find it funny when fundamentalists (a la 700 club…) cast the first stone. I’m willing to bet that with very little digging there’s some nasty shit they wouldn’t want aired out in public. (Would Jesus Approve? Likely not… unless Jesus was a hillbilly.

I’m willing to bet that Robertson has had a circle jerk of his own. Maybe not with his dick out (or maybe with… who knows… he hasn’t been caught yet…), but with his ego for sure.

What the fuck have I been up to?

2006-10-11T02:19:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last week recovering from dental surgery. I think dentists are evil. As far as I’m concerned, it takes a sick person to choose to become a dentist. Let’s face it, there are less than subtle reasons why the Nazis chose dentistry as a form of torture. If you chose to become a dentist, then your probably look good in tan and black… (And you’re working for the Clampdown.)

My procedure was part extraction of a molar, and part exorcism of a cyst. (This being the unholy alliance of procedures…) The dentist, who for legal reasons shall remain nameless, tried six (count’em six…) times to freeze my jaw. Six needles. SIX!!! Then while I wasn’t frozen (after SIX needles…) decided to dig in anyway. It’s a good thing he used a bite block to keep my mouth open, otherwise he’s be missing a few digits.

The pain was intense. It felt like someone shoved a lightning bolt into my gob. I think I actually said, “Fuck you mother!!!” out loud. Well it probably sounded more like “Fhug yer muddah!” but he knew what I meant.

The whole thing lasted less than 40 minutes from the first prick to me leaving with gauze packed awkwardly between my gum and the fresh gaping maw where my tooth once was.

Then I slept… like I’ve never slept before. Happily the swelling and bruising didn’t last too long.

Other stuff…

Last weekend I played the Edmonton Yuks club, and I have to say I really enjoyed it. The crowds were great. All four shows rocked. Mike did a great job getting things rolling, and John Dore ripped it up.

I recorded the shows, and have managed to piece together enough content for a new CD. I’m really excited about it too. I’ve decided to call it “At The Mercy of Imbeciles…” It will be available really damn soon.

Still More Stuff…

My time without a day job is coming to an end. Today I got a new job. I will be working at an engineering firm. (Danger!!!) I’m looking forward to getting into the groove of things. The last couple of months have been fun, but I must admit my days are getting pretty boring.

Even more stuff…

I’m moving at the end of the month. I just got into a housing cooperative. I’m looking forward to getting out of this apartment. (if only to get away from the nightly, alcohol fuelled Balcony Oratorio, and the hillbillies having paintball fights at 3 am. That shit get tired pretty quickly.)

Anyhoo, more to come soon.

Soundtrack of my life vol #3

2006-09-14T01:16:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, I did a series of posts about the albums that have had a profound impact on my life. I thought I’d carry on here with some other ones. These are in no particular order.

Big Country – The Crossing:

I got this record as a present for helping one of my parents’ friends landscape their yard. At first I liked it because it had bagpipes, and I thought that was neat in pop music. The more I listened to it, the more I started to understand this was more of a protest album. Sort of a Scottish Billy Bragg type thing.

Not to mention, it’s loaded with killer pop hooks, and a sound that’s less dated than most early 80’s pop. It’s too bad they never seemed to get their shit together after this record. (Although “Songs from Steeltown” is also a fine disc.)

The Cult – Electric:

This one is just pure cheese. The record is loaded down with cheap tawdry lyrics that happily remind me of some of the better times in High School. My friends Benji and Phil were obsessed with this band.

Doughboys – Whatever:

The only band to rival my affection for Husker Du. This power pop dynamo from Montreal kicked serious ass. They were an explosion of dreads and screeching guitars. (At the same time even!)
This album is their first effort, and it rocks big time. This is one of the finest fusions of pop and punk ever conceived.

This album reminds me of my friend Diz. We would sit up late at night, smoke a joint, and listen the shit out of this disc. It’s really hard to believe it’s 20 years old.

Down By Law – Blue:

Another punk gem!!! This one’s really important to me. I got this disc around the time that I was going through a really messy divorce. It spoke to me. When It roared, I did, when the music got more sullen, so did I. This and a few bottles of scotch got me though the worst of it. The message in the track “The Greenest Field” still holds dear to me. It’s become a mantra for me.

Fugazi – Repeater

Words escape me. This one is brilliant. This one reminds me of being at the radio station. I played something from this disc every week.
Well that’s it for this pile. More to come sooner or later.

Some Thoughts on the war!

2006-09-14T00:40:00.000-07:00

Here’s something to chew on. Canada is at war. Our nation is taking a lead in the participation of armed conflict. It’s weird to me. Don’t think so? Say it out loud! Try the statement on for size. Sound wrong to you? I bet it does.

I find it interesting that this concept is not as pervasive in the Canadian psyche as it is in America. Other than the occasional (and truly tragic!) news reports about slain Canadian Soldiers, it does not seem to be pervasive in our current culture.

Do we (our forces.) belong in Afghanistan? It’s a good question. The Conservatives here at home argue that it’s our duty to be there. I do not argue this position. I think it’s pretty obvious that we should be.

The more accurate question is, “Should we be there to fight?” The answer I think is a resounding no. It would seem the wiser path is to be involved with rebuilding and peacekeeping rather than trying to “smoke out the evil doers!”

After all, is that not what we do best? Are we not better equipped to help restore a sense of normality than add credence to “Shock and Awe?” (Although given the hesitance of our other partners in this conflict… I’m looking your way Europe… This is turning out to be more of an “Aw Shucks” instead.)

Please don’t misunderstand. I support our troops. I think that’s critical. They do us a service most of us will never be able to comprehend, let alone participate in. I do however think we are doing them a great disservice by putting them in harms way for reasons that seem to lack any substance.

Putting us in a combat role cheapens our identity as peacekeepers. It becomes that much harder to illicit help from warlords and tribal chieftains when the shit hits the fan, especially when they know you’ve been actively blowing the shit out of their countrymen. (Regardless of political proclivity.)

America started this mess. Why on earth are we there cleaning it up? Am I the only one who fails to see the logic here? This is no longer about terrorism. This is now an active campaign to occupy and control a country. Since when are Canadians active participants in occupation? How the fuck did we get here?

Perhaps Mr. Harper can explain it? Perhaps he can explain to the mothers of slain soldiers why Canada is participating in an occupation. Yeah right, and one day Osama will just turn himself in.

Just an update....

2006-08-14T21:52:00.000-07:00

The weekend was a little rough. I was trying to beat back this miserable flu that’s been running rampant around everyone I know. Alas my efforts were in vain. It struck me like a freight train. I hate being sick. I turn into an unreasonable prick when I have a cold. I blame fellow comic and best friend Brett Martin, vile disease carrier that he is. That’s right I said it!!! He is fully responsible for it. I know it in my heart. (And he knows it too…)

I did a couple of shows for the Laughing Arts Festival. The flu didn’t make them any easier. Suppressing a dry hacking cough is harder than it sounds. The crowds were small, and I wound up fucking around a little more than I normally do. As far as I can tell it went okay. I wish it were easier to get people out to shows than it is.

Overall though, life is pretty good these days. I’m super busy (as per usual…) I’ve got gigs coming out of my ears over the next few days. I like that. There’s nothing like being busy at the things that you like to do. Happily I don’t have to go too far on this round of touring.

The first stop is Lethbridge. Usually this gig goes very well for me. Well, except for last time. I ate it last time. I shit the bed. (So to speak…) The cards were pretty stacked against me though. It was during the playoffs and the bar was empty. It was just totally awkward. This time should be much better though.

Next up is Claresholm. I have never played there before. I have heard good things about the gig. I’m looking forward to playing there.

Then from Thursday to Saturday I play at my home club, Yuk Yuks here in Calgary. I haven’t been on stage there in quite a while. I’m exited to get it on. I’m going to try and shoot some video for a DVD I’ve been threatening to make. If it looks good, then it’s a go. If not, I’m going to try again in Saskatoon on September 1st.

Other stuff…

I have continued on with my Johnny Cash collection. I picked up a couple more CD’s. The first is “The Legend of Johnny Cash” which has a lot of his early stuff. There’s a really good version of “Cry Cry Cry” on there.

The second is the last disc he ever recorded. Called “American V: A Hundred Highways” It has some cuts that were finished just weeks before his death. It’s a little creepy in a way, but the songs are pretty strong.

I also picked up a new DVD too. It’s a strange documentary about The Clash. It’s called “Rude Boy.” There is a fictitious character that plays a roadie / fuck up that tags along with The Clash during their two UK tours in 1978 and 1979. It’s pretty good. It’s like an arty rockumentary, but it doesn’t really distract from the performances. It’s a neat little time capsule.

I hate fences...

2006-08-14T01:46:00.000-07:00

“To one who builds it, a fence is an image of safety, of security, of things being kept where they belong. Yet a person who feels safe, or secure, doesn’t bother building fences at all. And so a fence, or a wall, or a security barrier, is equally an image of gnawing insecurity, made tangible, in brick and razor wire.

Do fences really make good neighbours? We’ll find out soon enough!” – Adbusters Aug 2006

This quote has been gnawing away in the back of my mind since I read it. I think the question deserves an answer. Do fences make good neighbours?

It seems that just about everywhere we go, there is some sort of fence in the way. Whether it be made of the afore mentioned brick and razor wire, or perhaps less tangible, like a social barrier.

I remember when the Berlin wall came down. The entire world hung on that moment. Strangely that was a fence designed more so to keep people in, rather than to keep people out. When it came down, the world seemed like a little bit of a better place, like perhaps for a moment a blow had been struck. People had had enough and took matters into their own hands. It was a powerful moment in modern history.

Then, in less than 20 years, it seems like we live in a time that is becoming more hopeless. It’s as if that wall never fell. In fact, fences are going up all over the world at a near break neck pace.

If we look at the current (and very confusing) conflict between Israel and Palestine (As well as Lebanon, Syria, Iran, Hezbollah etc.) we find another physical wall constructed. It could not be more deliberate either. The differences of culture, wealth, and power are illuminated very clearly by the physical manifestation of hatred and frustration. A big fucking wall. One side is wealthy, and desperate to protect itself, and the other has tired of being displaced and treated like an under class.

On this side of the world we have a big wall too. It used to be the world’s largest unprotected border. That is not the case anymore. Now there are platoons of terrified hillbillies and their ilk, watching with vigilance over the border. (In addition to both Canadian and American Immigration authorities.)

Do these walls help? Likely not. I’m convinced they lie to us. Sometimes they imply safety where there is none. Other times they just add fuel to an already raging fire. Perhaps it makes more sense to remove all the walls, and knock down the fences completely. They don’t seem to be doing any real good.

Maybe all they really do is say “Hey I’m hiding something!” Maybe if we were left out in the open, it would be a lot harder to ignore the troubles staring us right in the face. To me a fence is just another tool of denial. If I can’t see it, it must not be there. Maybe on a Nation state scale it shields the populace from a sense of shame or guilt.
Wouldn’t it be better if you could turn to your neighbour and see what their world is really like? It’s a lot harder to be hostile when you understand those who surround you. The barriers that exist only serve to prevent us from ever being able to stand level footed with those who live on the other side.

How can you ever hope to communicate when there is something in the way?

Just a Quick Update

2006-08-06T02:26:00.000-07:00

I have been neglecting the blog for too long. I have been busy living life for a change. I got involved in a festival, and have been paying a lot more attention to the career. It’s a really nice change in my life. I feel like the reins are in my hands again.

I have left Leger. Currently I have no day job to speak of. That feels good too. It was about time for the change. I had become stale, and needed to move on for some time. Happily I got put out of my misery. It’s not a bad thing to be “downsized” if it means that your life will improve.

This weekend has been fun too. I’ve gotten to hang out with Erin. That rocks. Given that the next few weeks will be very busy for me, I’m glad that I got to spend some quality time with her. I know she doesn’t like the touring as much as she pretends. I know she gets lonely. I don’t blame her at all, I would get lonely too. (In fact I do… the road is a lonely place.)

I got some new CD’s too. Some real gooders. (Like tons of Johnny Cash…)

1) Johnny Cash – Unchained
2) Johnny Cash – American Recordings
3) Johnny Cash – American III
4) Johnny Cash – American IV (The Man Comes Around)
5) Kinnie Starr – Sun Again
6) Thievery Corporation - The Richest Man In Babylon

The Cash stuff is fantastic. I really like the Rick Rubin produced stuff. It has more soul in it. It’s much less country, and more folk. I really like most of the covered songs too. I wish I had developed an appreciation for him sooner.

Anyhoo, I’ll post something more meaty soon.

End of Transmission.

Root Canals and Passing Friends...

2006-07-19T11:05:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been frustrating. Firstly I found out that a friend of mine had passed away, and secondly my root canal from a year ago is continuing to cause me grief.

My friend Shane Mack passed away a few days ago. He was an interesting fellow. Punk rocker, doorman, drinking buddy, tattoo artist and devout worshipper at the church of Hunter S. Thompson and raving lunatic are just a few of the things that he was.

He was also at his core, a really decent person. The last time I saw him he was making a concentrated effort to change his life. I was totally startled to hear about his death. (As most people are I suppose…)

I will miss him. His antics and hair-brained schemes were always entertaining to me. I hope there is a heaven, because he deserves it.

As for the root canal, I lost the filling. So I went in to get it looked at, only to find out that I have a cyst and that the tooth will have to be removed. That sucks. Just what I needed, expensive dental surgery. Whoopee… sign me up.

Anyway enough of my bitching…

End of Transmission.

Up coming gigs

2006-07-18T16:26:00.000-07:00

Well… So far the “My Space” experiment is going well. I’m still not sure how useful it will be, especially given the amount of effort required. I’m still not overly convinced that it’s as good a tool as it could be, but hey every little bit helps.

I have a slew of gigs coming up pretty quickly...

Sylvan Lake – July 27 (with Paul Sveen and Scott Dumas) 8:00 pm

Saskatoon - Aug 11 (with Bob “The Showman” Chomyn) 8:00pm At the Parktown

Regina – Aug 12 (with Bob again…) @ the Ramada 8:00pm

Calgary - Aug 17-19 (with TBA…) @ Yuk Yuks 8pm & 10:30 on Saturday. 8pm Thursday and Friday.

The Dread Pirate Al Gore

2006-07-12T16:14:00.000-07:00

I went to see a couple of movies on the weekend. The first of which was the documentary “An Inconvenient Truth.” It was great. Al Gore should be commended for it. The subject matter was approached in a simple enough manner that it never files above your head, and yet at no point is it insulting to the lowest common denominator.

Gore is eloquent, and manages to deliver the goods with a little southern charm to sugar the weight of the subject matter. The information provided to the viewer was as shocking as it was terrifying. I could see others around me in the theatre looking uncomfortable. . I left the theatre feeling angry ashamed and hopeful. This film did its job.

I was left thinking that it was really too bad that this man didn’t become President of the United States. The world would have been better off for it.

The other movie was “Pirates of The Caribbean – The Dead Man’s Chest.” This one is a renter. The pacing is clumsy, and there are too many plot points unraveling at once. Depp does an okay job, but I’ve noticed that Jack Sparrow is a lot less interesting the second time out. The character is a little tired. Perhaps it’s because it really lacks depth.

It is apparent that this episode was supposed to be more of a character exposition, and ironically that’s where it falls down. This is not a fun film, but it could have been.

Horse Jumping Super Soldiers

2006-07-11T10:55:00.000-07:00

Saturday I went to Spruce Meadows, which in one of Calgary’s premier attractions. In show jumping circles, this place is about the best there is. The park itself is jaw dropping in its complexity and in its beauty.

It was a nice warm day, (one might say lovely even…) and I did a lot of walking about. I must have walked about 6 miles. I didn’t get to see much of the horse jumping, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. The lush green spaces and carnival atmosphere were fun to take in. (The only real drawback being the mounds of horseshit that you had to dodge with remarkable regularity…) It’s a nice place to go and escape some of the throng of the Stampede.

I did feel a little out of place there though. I’m used to rolling with the Timex set, and this place is very much a Rolex kinda thing.

The Military had set up an exhibit of sorts on the grounds. (Apparently it was “salute to the military day”… or something like that…) They brought a couple of tanks and other dangerous looking things with big guns on them. (You know… for the kids…) I chatted with a couple of the soldiers. They were pretty cool for the most part.

I was peeking inside a Coyote recon vehicle (Which is the kinda of vehicle that makes off road enthusiasts cream their jeans…) and I looked up, and there was General Rick Hillier. He’s the head of the Canadian military. He was talking to the troops in a cool and casual fashion.

“You’re not one of my guys are you?” He said…

“Um no…” as I looked around sheepishly.

“Oh… I’m Rick…”

“Oh yeah… yer the Grand Poobah of the army right?”

“That’s me… The chief cook and bottle washer…” and he extended his hand.

I was amazed that he played along. He really didn’t seem like a General. Mind you, he was the first one I have ever met. (Movies and TV always make them out to be so… Army ish…) I shook his hand, and he returned his attention to the troops.

Apparently this is the year for me to meet really cool people. I wonder who’s next?

Some New Pictures of Calgary

2006-07-08T01:50:00.000-07:00

These first three pics are from the Stampede parade that happend this morning. It usually draws about 200,000 people. It's kinda hokey, but it's also lots of fun.

There are two types of Calgarians. Those who love the Stampede and those that don't. Strange as it may seem I love it. Calgary gets the stick out of it's ass for 10 days. Hey... I'll take what I can get.

I was like a kid again. I used to love going to the parade with my family. I had a rush of really good memories this morning.

This picture couldn't be any more telling. Mc Shittys will kill you!(Mind you, one of the drug dealers that hangs out there could have gotten stabed or something... Either way this place is bad for your health.)

I bet John Lennon is rolling in his grave. This is so shabby!

Grrrrrrrrr...

2006-07-03T01:53:00.000-07:00

It’s late on Sunday. I’m so tired and yet I cannot close my eyes. I have been tossing and turning for about an hour or so. I hate this. Just once in a while I’d like to be able to conk out without having to deprive myself.

It really makes me miserable. Perhaps I should hit myself in the head with a hammer. It might do more good than help me sleep too.

Fuck you sandman. Fuck you for forgetting about me. I’m not asking for a coma, just a normal nights sleep. Hell I’d even settle for 5 hours. Is that too much to ask for?

Happy Canada Day!!!

2006-07-01T03:53:00.000-07:00

Happy Canada Day!!!

Here are some interesting Canadian social statistics. (According to a study done by MacLean’s magazine.)

31 percent of Canadians distrust the police. Interesting enough the same percentage are uneasy about Born again Christians. (I would love to do a cross tabulation to see if it’s the same 31 percent…)

40 percent of Canadians see no problem with gay adoption.

62 percent of the populace believes in angels. (Likely the most popular interpretation of angel is the “pretty Irish girl” type from that TV show… I’m less inclined to think the people think about the type of angel that fucked Sodom and Gomorrah’s shit up!)

65 percent believe in Heaven. Only 48 percent believe in hell…

63 percent believe that recreational use of marijuana is okay. (Maybe that’s where the angels come from… I see shit sometimes myself…)

One a similar note, 57 percent of us believes in ESP and psychic powers. Nearly a third are convinced we can communicate with the dead. (Gimme some of that weed…)

49 percent think that there should be an outright ban on porn.

Nearly 75 percent disagree with this statement: We should worry about Canada and let the rest of the world take care of itself. (I think that’s pretty damn cool.)

Up Up And Away...

2006-07-01T02:22:00.000-07:00

“I'm gonna knock down every wall (I find)
gonna spit out bullets
gonna be a hero (the super kind)
can you dig it?
Cause someone needs to clean things up
before things get much worse…” – Superman by Down By Law.

I went to see Superman Returns on Thursday night. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. I had been feeling a little run down, and seeing the man of steel back in action really recharged my batteries.

I thought it was really well done. It had great effects, and decent casting, with the notable exception of the “Lois” character, which fell kinda flat. Kevin Spacey on the other hand, makes a great “Lex Luther.” You could almost call him Saintly evil. (If evil had it’s own set of “Saints” I guess…)

Singer did a great job with the story too. There was less of the hokey “Golly Gee Whiz” stuff and more grit, but it never had to sacrifice any of the humour in the process.

Since I was a kid, I have believed that comics are a near perfect blend of morality tales and mythology. I think we can learn a lot from them. Few things in popular culture hold as steadfast when it comes to stories of definitively right vs. definitively wrong. In comics, it gets laid out for the reader in black and white. Rarely can you mistake it’s message. Marshall McLuhan might be inclined to argue they are the perfect medium. (Because he asserts that the message is the media…)

But perhaps in a way, that’s also where they fall down. There is no subtext to chew over. With so little for the left-brain to process, they become too preachy and stale. (Well for some anyway… it is just a theory after all…) One could argue that they tend to hit you over the head with the message.

It is however difficult not to see them as a mythology. The varied pantheons of Gods and Goddesses from the ancient word are really no different than these modern characters. Hercules and Superman have a lot in common, and not just on the surface. Both are flawed in some fashion, both come from Gods in their own right, and more specifically both were created by humans to teach us something about ourselves.

In the movie, Lois Lane gets a Pulitzer Prize for writing an article titled “Does the world really need Superman?” It’s not too difficult to imagine a point when Greek society asked the same question about their own Gods.

I realize that I’m talking about a fictitious character(s), but I pretty sure I’m not the only one who has ever wished there was a Superman, and more importantly wondered what life would be like if we had such a fantastic protector.

If nothing else, I would argue that this world could really use a Superman. He would be useful to us even If his only purpose were to remind us of one fairly heady and important notion.

“Only when we are no longer afraid, do we begin to live!”

Somewhere along the way our society forgot that. It wasn’t terrorism that made us forget. Nor was it tragedy or religious differences either. Those were just symptoms of the problem. We were told to be afraid and we bought it.

Mind you it was an easy sell. Being bombarded with negative messages that fester in the conscience made us a brilliant tool to be manipulated.

Superman also teaches us another important lesson. Humanity has great potential, but they way we are now demonstrates very little of that.

To bad eh? Maybe if we can asuage our fears, we might see that potential one day.

Sunday Night

2006-06-26T00:49:00.000-07:00

Life is pretty good these days. I’m feeling somewhat liberated… One might say footloose and fancy free even. (Although that may be a little much.) I’m brimming with ideas, almost too many for my own good. I suspect the only thing worse than having idle hands, is having them too full.

Anyway… As you may have noticed, my attentions have been once again focused on my chosen career. I’m currently in the process of assembling a new promo package. It’s about bloody time I got off of my comfy lazy ass and got to it too. I have all the tools and no more excuses, so the ball is finally rolling.

I see real potential in creating a sort of “multimedia” package. The incorporation of Blogs and DVDs seem like a natural pairing to me. It strikes me that if used properly, they are the building blocks of a brand name. Their construction however is the easy part.

The real trick is speaking to your target audience. I know who I’m looking for, now they just need to know they were looking for me. It sounds easy on paper, but it’s a different story in actual execution. (Barring giving birth to a flaming monkey, or finding Jesus in my grilled Cheese…)

Mind you that sounds a little calculated, but I would argue that it is also necessary. Branding helps in separating the herd, and sadly I need to start thinking this way. If I want to stay busy at this, I need to. There are no ifs ands or buts.

Make no mistake, I’m not trying to manufacture something artificial, content speaks for itself. I just think it’s important to use a little acumen from time to time.

The menus for the DVD are really starting to look smashing. So far it’s been a really simple task to get them straightened out. The flow is really natural, almost ergonomic even. I can’t wait to shoot the video.

The really nice thing about having a Mac is that audio and video layout (Not to mention mastering…) are a snap. I remember trying to put this stuff all together on a Pee Cee, and having nothing integrate well. It was really brutal. It was truly too frustrating for words.

Speaking of shabby, I’ve decided to remove the myspace site. It sucks, and it just plain has to go. I will try again, but so far I really hate how it works.

Today I got another handful of requests from exotic dancers wanting to be “buddies.” Geesh…

Anyway… more to come…

Just a Quick Update...

2006-06-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

There are some life changes looming in the near future for me. I’m excited. I need the shake up. I feel like I’m covered in moss and need to emerge from this groggy state.

This past week was really fun. I had shows on Tuesday and Wednesday, and they both went really well. I felt like myself on stage again. The self-imposed exile seems to have done some good.

The new stuff is starting to take some shape. It still needs work, but it was nice to see that I can fit it into a pro show, and not look like a total retard in the process. None of it is polished, but at least it’s funny.

I have been toying with a myspace site. So far, I’m none too pleased with it. I really have no desire to have 1000 “friends.” (Most of whom are web cam girls and strippers…) I see some potential with it, but I also think it really might be too late for it to do any real good. (In terms of concrete promotion.)

I have started to build contextual menus for a coming DVD. My thinking is that this blog, and the DVD will be companions to each other. I think using them as vehicles for each other is a clever idea. The DVD adds voice that’s missing, and the blog offers what could be described as a set of “living” liner notes.

The Video for the disc will be shot Aug 10-12 at the Calgary Yuks club. I’m hoping to get all my friends out for it. The more support the better for this one. I’m excited about it. I’ve needed this kind of promo for a long time. I will be adding a link to the blog that will permit people to download my press kit. (As soon as I can figure it out…)

Anyhoo, More to come soon…

Rainy Days and Terrorists get me down...

2006-06-15T10:27:00.001-07:00

It’s raining today. Actually it’s been raining for a couple of days, and the last couple of nights have had thunder and lightning. I always thought that was cool. When I was a little kid, my Grandma used to say that with each flash, God was taking another picture. A cute explanation for sure, but then again, I was five, so I bought in.

Other Stuff…

I’ve been thinking about the events of the last couple of weeks here in Canada. More specifically about the arrests made related to the budding homegrown terrorist plot. It had the nation talking for a few days, but it seems the dust has settled. Given that there was no super fantastic destruction, the average Canadian seems to now look on with our patented “mild” disinterest. As if to say “well that’s over… let’s get back to the Oilers”

The media reaction by all accounts was fairly typical. In every interview I watched, the presenter tried to excrete the most irrelevant minutia from the “special guest terrorist expert.” It was like watching someone try and squeeze blood from a turnip. The segments progress from “What kind of training do these guys have?” to witless banter with staggering speed. Very quickly, and with a convincing certainty, I discovered that reruns of Seinfeld had more relevance to me, and flicked the channel.

They (The media…) repeatedly glazed over what I thought was truly the most important detail. The plot was foiled. Nothing happened. In the scheme of things it was a wonderful, happy anticlimax. The Mounties got their men! (See you kooky Americans… It really is true. The RCMP always gets the bad guys in the end.) And with that in mind, the whole thing seems so overblown.

Interesting to note as well, I have yet to hear any whining about how the plot “could have worked…” and it’s ensuing “We need to protect ourselves at any cost” blather. Perhaps we are just tired of it. Maybe it’s more about thanking our lucky stars, and a whole lot less about blaming terrorist radicals.

At the very least, we escaped the “Visqueen sheet plastic and duct tape” self-preservation nonsense. I’m amazed that Tom Ridge was ever able to bark that rubbish out with a straight face.

This strange event speaks to a difference between Canada and America. This plot was foiled by a proactive operation, not a reactive one. It demonstrates the effectiveness of quiet vigilance over voluminous and overbearing defiance, and most assuredly shows that we can protect our citizens without the need for any sort of invasion. We don’t need to push others around to be safe. (Or at least feel safe…) In my estimation, it’s less of beating the war drum, and more of singing folk songs around the campfire kinda thing.

However, for a few days after the arrests, I started to hear something fascinating. There was a lot of talk about the “dangers of multiculturalism”, and how it’s apparently a “breeding ground” for dissent and an eventual societal cataclysm. This was the first time I can ever recall hearing this from Canadians. This was also the first time I heard it coming from one of my friends.

This plot was conceived not because of multiculturalism. The ideal of people living collectively and sharing different cultures is not to blame. How could it be? The inability to communicate within the constructs of multiculturalism is part of the problem and another hefty chunk would be the failure to adapt to change. Those are the “breeding grounds” for a societal cataclysm.

Anyway… More to come as I think of it…

ARRRRRRRRRRRRGH

2006-06-14T14:12:00.002-07:00

Today I tried to buy a DVD burner for a Mac. Sounds like a reasonably easy task right? Not fucking likely. I had to go to 7 different stores, and I still don’t have one in my hands. (Although apparently I will have one tonight.)

I went to every place I could think of that deals in Apple. I should have known better than to even try. The cards were stacked against me. First I went to Future Shop and Best Buy, both who stock Macs, and yet somehow, in a truly inept fashion, don’t carry peripherals that are compatible with Mac. (Or any software for that matter…) How fucking stupid is that?

What total clothy eared crap sack made that purchasing decision? I want to meet him, so I can kick him right in the junk. Why bother to carry it, if you won’t bother to support it.

So there I stood, nearly wading in a veritable ocean of burners, literally hundreds of them, and not a single OS X device. It was a Mac owner’s worst nightmare. At first I was confused, and then I just got angry.

So I stomped off to London Drugs, (who normally do a reasonable job at supporting Apple.) I got there to find one, but it was outrageously priced, and made by a cheapo company.

Then from there, I was off to Memory Express, whose employees looked like they had been hit by some alien death ray when I gasped the words “for Mac please…” Once they recoiled their slack jaws, they said as if in unison “we don’t have Mac stuff…” I was ready to rise up with a mighty force and slay them.

So once again, I hit the ground running, this time making it to an actual Mac specific dealer, who ultimately was even more expensive than London Drugs.

So out the door again and off to another London Drugs that I knew carried a different, more trustworthy brand of burner that the other outlet. (Foolish me to assume that all outlets in their chain might offer some continuity of products…) I get to find that they have shipped it off to the first London Drugs that I went to earlier.

So apparently I’ll get it this evening, (It’s on hold… or so they say… I’m not holding my breath at this point.)

Saturday...

2006-05-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

Another protracted Saturday. It’s cool here in Calgary. It feels more like fall today than spring. The rain has stopped for now, but you can tell it’s still threatening to give us a little more. Hopefully Mother Nature will be gentle this year. We could really live without the floods we had last year.

Everything here seems so slow today. Too slow, with the added feeling of metal being ground against metal, but at a glacial pace. Everyone around me seems to be moving just as slow. There are a couple of people in the office that you’d have to put a peg in front of, just to make sure they’re moving.

I’m tired. Once again, I’ve managed to burn myself out. You’d figure I might have learned something by now. No such luck though. I seem to live with the candle furiously burning at both ends. More to the point, it seems that its only way I know.

My vacation is coming soon, but it seems not soon enough right now. It’s only a week away, and it might as well be a year. I have too much to do between now and then. I wish I could just sleep for a month. That would be truly glorious.

In the movie 2010, there was a scene where Roy Scheider and his fellow astronauts were placed in “suspended animation” for the long trip to Mars. As if that wouldn’t be awesome. 18 months of nothing but sleep. That’s the closest thing to a wet dream I’ve had in years.

But I digress…

I’ve been thinking of other stuff about me. Information that helps with the character sketch this blog has been slowly building. I think too often I come off as smug and sarcastic. (With more than a dash of vitriol…) I have shared little that exposes my hopes and dreams, or fears and desires. So with that in mind, I decided to try and shed a little more light. Hopefully it doesn’t come off as too flakey or misty eyed.

I’ve chosen point form for simplicity. There is no real order to any of this.

1)I miss my home. I long for the lingering salt air and the sea. I want to live there again one day. I feel that I belong there. The longer I stay in Calgary, the harder it gets.

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to leave Newfoundland, and now I can think of nothing but being there. Sometimes the grass really is greener on the other side.

2)For as much as I bitch about religion. I have faith, but I generally keep it to myself. The things that I believe are as much about comfort as they are about justice. I lack the ability to believe in the hocus pocus, but the message has meaning for me.

I used to think I didn’t believe, and then I discovered I believe differently. I started life as a Roman Catholic, and somewhere along the way I became something else. I have no definition for it, and yet even without some sort of classification, I have found a comfort.

3)My fears motivate me. That shouldn’t be too surprising I suppose. I perform now because I was afraid. Along the way I managed to assuage the fear, but had I not been afraid, I would have wound up being an accountant. (Or whatever…) It was the fear that coaxed me out, and my sheer force of will that tempered it.

4)I believe in compassion. I reject those who do not. More is accomplished with an open hand than with a closed fist. (Although that closed fist feels really good sometimes.) I will not ever condemn a person because of their place in society. It is not up to me to be their judge. I will however extend a hand when I am able to.

5)I have a near unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I love to read, visit museums and absorb whatever I can. I am a willing student of history.

6)I am able to retain most of the information i read, and am able to recall it years later, with it still being clear as a bell. For instance, I can give you reams of information from memory about the pharaonic dynasties of Egypt, or the roots of Pauline Christianity, or even a discography of a zillion musicians.

I think I come by this honestly. My father is also a veritable fountain of information. He can give you a two hour lecture about Irish silver maker’s marks. WOW.

7)I however have a totally terrible sense of psychical spatialization. I could never be an animator, because I just can’t wrap my head around the physics. (I failed Physics in high school… They might as well have put me in a sand box for the entire year. It likely would have done me just as good.)

8)Geology fascinates me. I like rocks and mountains and the like. Plate tectonics and earthquakes are cool too.

9)I like Star Trek. I think it’s because it offers an uncompromising belief that humanity will better itself. (But I won’t lie, space ships are cool too…)

10)I’m about three inches and a “compound” away from being one of those “Mulder” type conspiracy kooks. I really believe that we are constantly being lied to, but I also think that most conspiracies are constructed to distract us from the real truth. (Sort of a double bluff kinda thing…)

One day I’ll spew my thoughts about everything from the Kennedy assassination to the Space Shuttle explosions. (People will likely think I need to be locked up…)

11)I was born with the gift of being able to smell bullshit a mile away. I can also read people really well. I see something in them. I get a kind of mental sketch. It’s weird, but it’s almost always right. Sometimes it’s so clear that I can tell what a person’s favorite food is, what kinda of car they drive, where they buy their clothes etc. It’s generally been a blessing, but occasionally it’s been a bit of a curse too.

12)Lastly, I really hate the TV show “Sex and The City.” It's a horrible piece of shit that makes me grind my teeth. (But I hate it in a different way than most men…) I had a woman tell me once that in order to understand women I “NEEDED” to watch this show. What a croc! I told her if that was the case men and women should always live apart, and only meet to propagate the species. She looked confused… So I continued with this argument.

“Saying Sex and the City will help you understand women, is like saying that playing Super Mario Brothers will help you with your plumbing, or that by watching ER, you’ll understand medicine.” (Imagine that…)

At that point she started to catch on.

The characters on that show are so vain, shallow, mentally bankrupt, empty, bitchy, hateful, vacant, selfish, and childish. (Not to mention there appears to be nary a lick of common sense.) But truthfully, that’s not a judgment, just a signature of poor character development.

The characters are way too over the top. Every human being on earth has those traits; (And I am certainly no exception…). They are most assuredly not gender specific. There is nothing unique or clever about these traits. Not by any stretch of the imagination. They are human, and primal in root. Nothing more, and nothing less.

More importantly, the characters lack depth, humility, and humanity. There is very little in the way of sincere character exploration. It just scratches the surface. In the rare moments when it tried to tackle something heady, it abandoned the message quickly, or conjured it in a way that defeated it’s own substantive weight.

I would argue that Sex and The City does more to set back gender relations that it will ever do to “Help men understand women.” I’m willing to bet that the best way for men to understand is to just listen. That seems pretty simple. Doesn’t it.

Anyway… I wound up off on a tangent (again…) More to come later.

Another Installment of "Stuff About Me!"

2006-05-24T19:07:00.000-07:00

Some stuff about me…

1)I really like apple fritters. (All that cinnamon and apple goodness.) They are a gift from God. Apples and Cinnamon are the best combination ever conceived in my humble estimation.

2)I miss my grandparents. They were wonderful people. I think about them almost daily. They gave me so much guidance. Life is truly different without them. I hope for their sake that heaven exists.

3)I get jealous easily. This is a flaw that I truly hate about myself. I have learned to curb it, but once in a while it rears it’s ugly head. It can really bring me to a purely invective point with someone.

4)I’m stubborn and very set in my ways. I can really be infuriating that way. Just ask anyone who has a relationship with me.

5)As you may have noticed, I champion the things I believe in. (Usually to a fault… If I think someone is wrong they will remain so in my eyes.

6)I have a hard time letting things go. I will gnaw over things that bother me until I pop. I’m trying to get better at this, but so far I’ve only seen a little improvement.

7)I’m vain about my level of intelligence. This has led me down the wrong path numerous times.

8)I like cats. Especially Orange Tabbies.

9)My favorite pizza in the whole world is pepperoni, green pepper and onion.

10)I despise eggs. Vile chicken placenta. There is no need for it… ever!

11)I miss Newfoundland in the worst kind of way. It is my home and I can hear it calling me.

12)I find inspiration in the struggle of others. I always have. I root for the underdog, with notable exceptions (Like the hated Oilers…)

13)I think children are smarter than anyone gives them credit for. Which makes them untrustworthy. Sneaky little buggers. I think they hold meetings and actually plan some seriously chaotic shit.

14)I love gummie bears. Especially the pineapple ones. I also like to make them pose in perverse ways. I really am a child sometimes. Gummie bear gangbangs are funny to me. (Sad I realize…)

15)I’ve switched my brand of cigarettes. I now smoke Natural American Spirits. I really like them.

16)I am able to see my own cowardice. I usually act upon it too… (Well, most of the time…)

17)I am fascinated by history. Especially Egyptian, Roman, and Christian history. I believe that by understanding the ancient world, we learn more about ourselves. I would give my right arm to see Sphinx or Abu Simbul. I would love to glide my hands over their stone surfaces. I think it would give me a good sense of history. Each imperfection in the stone reveals a little more about its legacy.

18)I am a difficult person to get to know. Unless I let you in, you just get the surface and that’s it. I often wonder what the people who are closest to me think. Offering myself to others has always been like violently ripping off a band-aid. Oddly however, the special people in my life are the few that managed to get inside my armor the quickest.

19)I hate biting my tongue. It takes a lot of will power not to verbally assault someone who is being stupid. (This can make social situations frustrating for me.) I usually wind up being very quiet, but this just make my stomach churn.

20)I love the colour red. Any shade of red.

21)I hate mangos. They taste to me like a cross between a peach and a turnip. Bleeeeeech!

22)I wanted to join the Navy once. I actually made it to the recruiting offices before I came to my senses. It was a bit of a close one.

Goofy Nazis and their silly parades...

2006-05-24T01:26:00.000-07:00

Here’s a picture that would be really funny if it wasn’t so sad. These people just don’t get it! Aren’t we tired of this ignorant hatred? Haven’t we already learned a lesson from people like this?

Open letter to Nazis everywhere…

How do people get this way? I understand the pressures of society, and I even understand how hard change can be. However, it disturbs me though when a person’s ignorance and intolerance gets the better of them. How can we grow as humans, when we can’t even shake off this kind of bullshit?

It’s not immigrants that are taking your jobs Mr. Nazi! It’s your own sense of entitlement! No one wants fat, and stupid white trash in this world. There is no place for you. You are the ones who are truly not wanted. I wish I could parade around you with peace symbol armbands singing folk songs. Truthfully I’d love to fuck with your heads. A little reciprocity never hurt right?

Let’s face it; the new economy doesn’t need you either. You bring nothing to the table. (Exception distortion, lies and hatred…) We have no need for those who prey on the weak. Life is hard enough without having to listen to you whine and bitch. You are nothing but the shit under society’s boot. (And the best part is that you know it… Deep down inside, in the pit of your stomach lies that tender little nugget. Why suppress it? You know you’re wrong… Unless of course you’re a sociopath, but then “American family values” wouldn’t really mean that much to you. I mean how could it? It would be all about you.)

Worse still, you morons created your own problems to begin with, and now you need a scapegoat. You need a real humdinger of a scapegoat. So you blame the Jews, Blacks, and Mexicans for your own failures. How sad. How very sad indeed! Is that what a man does? (A real thinking human man?)

Does this world owe you a living? Definitely not. The ticket to survival is to better yourself. Instead of pissing on others, perhaps you could actually solve your problems. Do Education, and personal development strike any chords? I thought not…

But I realize that blame is so much better and it’s easy too! Except it’s kinda like a drug. Sooner or later you’ll need another hit. Then another and another. You don’t even realize that it’s your own hate that’s killing you. There in lies the real injustice, and most assuredly the real tragedy.

You are nothing more than the sad and vulgar display of stupidity. It makes me want to cry. It breaks my heart into a million pieces.

Hey Mr. Nazi read a book… One with something useful in it. Perhaps mathematics!

Davinci's Vendetta

2006-05-23T22:07:00.000-07:00

Friday I went to see “The Davinci Code”. My official review is as follows: It’s was a decidedly okay movie. Visually it was great. The scenes in the Louvre were pretty. The action sequences were better than average. (Excluding the car chase, which was bloody spectacular.) For some reason though, it just kinda felt flat.

That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy it for what it was. I heard someone harping on about how Tom Hanks was totally wrong for the part. He’s seemed to do a reasonable job. (Mind you I haven’t read the book yet!) He managed to suspend my disbelief, and ultimately that’s what I paid for. Will he win an Oscar for this? Not likely, but at least I didn’t feel ripped off. This is not a movie that redefines the medium. Sometimes that’s okay. This is one of those times.

In truth I have avoided the book to date, because I’d rather “discover” it in my own time. I refuse to get caught up in the fray. Fans of this book seem to be a frenzied sort. It has become a “Harry Potter” for the adult set. (And everyone on the planet now seems to think that they are well informed on all matters concerning the grail…)

I like to keep my distance from that. The only reason why I went to the movie was because Erin wanted to see it, and because we were able to walk right in. There was no overwhelming throng. I hate all the over hyped and mania usually associated with a movie of this nature! (With some notable exceptions, Like Star Wars…) I’m as likely to wait 10 years before I read it, as I am to crack the spine soon.

There are some other books out there that embrace the topic from a historical perspective. Most are heavily laden with conjecture, but they offer something more, namely the curious nature of the write, and that I find more fascinating.

I have just started to dig into Michael Baigent’s new book “The Jesus Papers.” For those interested, I’ll let you know how it is in the near future.

I also finally got to see the movie “V for Vendetta.” (My houseguest this weekend was besotted by my not having seen it yet. He demanded that we go…)

To say it was stunning is an understatement. I think it could be fairly said that the Wachowski brothers made a clever little warning about letting government get out of control. (Although they nicely gift wrapped to make it palatable…)

I was brought to near tears a couple of times. There is a monologue from an off screen character that is totally heart breaking. The emotional impact undoes the viewer, but never goes too far. Make no mistake, I think this is an important film. It works very hard to remind us of four key things.

1)Government is for the people, by the people, and of the people.
2)People should not be afraid of their government, governments should be afraid of the people.
3)It is easy to be duped if you do not inform yourself.
4)Fear is as effective a motivator, as it is ugly and insidious.

In this day and age these are crucial things to remember. From this day forward, and every time George Bush, or Stephen Harper speaks, I will remember them. (Rather than just shudder like I used to.) They need to be a touchstone for all of us. Regardless of political proclivities these principles need to be treated with due care and caution. They are the tenets of all that we hold dear. If we are not vigilant, we will loose them, and sadly, they will become nothing more than a footnote in history.

“Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...”

Xevious...

2006-05-20T16:02:00.000-07:00

Today is blah kinda day. It’s warm out, but it’s threatening to rain. I really wish it would, perhaps it would cool down a little. I feel so groggy. I hate it. I wanna run through a sprinkler, but the super in my building seems less than impressed with the idea. That guy has no sense of adventure sometimes.

I’m bored, and not just hum drum bored. I've reached the point where shaving body parts seems wise. It's the kind of boredom that breeds the devil's hands. It usually starts with "I wonder what this does?" and ends with "Aw Fuck, I broke it. That really doesn’t help with matters much. (I can't seem to remember a time when Calgary was this muggy. This weather seems bust open a giant can of boredom. I'm too sweaty to do anything.)

I need to play a video game. Nothing on a console or computer mind you. Nope, I want to go to the good old-fashioned arcade, and stand in front of an old Xevious machine. Then plug it full of quarters. Perhaps more quarters in it than has ever been managed before. (A veritable ocean of quarters if you will…) I think I’m regressing to childhood. (Erin might argue that I never left it fully.)

I used to play that damn game all day. It was my favorite. It was16 joyous levels of scrolling space warfare, and I loved it. (I’m starting to hear the music in my head…) I remember ditching school with Steve Guy and spending the day in a fixed gaze, lurching over that machine, and absorbing it’s cathode rays. You’d swear it was as important as “The Sermon on the Mount” the way we clung to it.

I got so good at it that a single quarter could get me about an hour’s playtime. That was the greatest thing in the world to me. That hour was spent not only destroying evil space despots and the like, but it also let me drift away. None of the pressures of teen land existed when I was playing the game. There was no bickering or fights that could be started… It was time to space out. it was just a crucial break from being bored and disaffected. (Or from trying hard to be bored and disaffected.)

Before girls there was Xevious. I didn’t need to try and impress Xevious, just beat it. That’s it. It was soooo simple. I never got tired of it, and vice versa. It was a splendid union.

Then one day I went in to the arcade, and it was gone. It had slipped out without a trace. I asked the manager about it, and he said he wanted to get a “better” game. I glared at him like he had just killed a baby, or worse, kicked a puppy.

“Better than Xevious… That’s not possible!” I said with a tone that measured a solid 12 on the disgust meter. (My eyebrow had started to twitch…) “Nothing’s better than Xevious!”

“Look kid, I’ve seen you beat it… Why don’t you try this new one?” as he pointed to the totally inferior “1941” machine.

“It’s not the same!” I protested

“Sure it is…” He said as he exhaled out his mouth. (He was a full on mouth breather… and a dick… He was always such a prick to the kids in the arcade. I remember he had a greasy looking moustache. It made him look like his name might be Chico.)

And with that, I stormed out into the street. I think I actually threw a rock at the guy’s car. (Kinda sad and mellow dramatic don’t you think? How very punk rock of me… Smash the state; chuck a rock at a schmuck’s car… Marcus C. Beaubier – “Super Genius”)

I saw one at Value Village a few years ago. It was pretty beat up. The pressboard case was all mashed up in the corners, and the screen wasn’t sitting in the mount properly. It worked though. I popped a quarter in, and the music started. Apparently I can still get about an hours worth of play for a quarter. (Not too shabby if I say so myself.)

For a brief moment I was shot back into my early teens. I could of sworn I heard Steve saying “get it… get it…” over my shoulder. I was again transfixed.

Anyway...

P.S. Lemme know what your favorite arcade game was, and why!

Me as a South Park Character...

2006-05-18T01:44:00.000-07:00

Just a little bit of fun. I think I look pretty good as a South Park Character!

New on the ipod this week

2006-05-17T02:49:00.000-07:00

1)Pearl Jam – self titled. Wow… Pearl Jam decided to write a killer rock and roll record. This one’s a middle finger to all those music critics that declared, “Rock is dead”. It’s the heaviest thing they’ve done since 10. It appears as if Pearl Jam got tired of arty affectations and got back to business. It’s a very solid effort for sure. Check out “Life Wasted”, and “Severed Hand” I’m glad I bought this disc.

2)NOFX – Wolves in Wolves Clothing. These guys just get better and better. Fat Mike doesn’t was any time on this one. Clever lyrics and hooky riffs abound. So far these are some my favorites. From the song "U.S.A Holes"

“We see the iceberg from 15 miles away... The captain orders the ship to "stay the course... "Full speed ahead" shouts the accurst... The next thing we heard was, "Rich women and children first... The ship is listing, the captain's placing blame on the iceberg... "That berg attacked us, I am declaring war on the Arctic"... Who could ever have predicted the greatest ship could so easily sink?”

It's great Punk rock. It's also quite funny. I love NOFX... There I've said it!!!

Amexica...

2006-05-11T01:00:00.000-07:00

It strikes me that there are two kinds of Americans. Those who like undocumented labour (See Mexicans, Koreans, and other assorted Asians…) and those who lie and say they don’t. I realize that this sounds rather glib, but I’m willing to bet I’m right on the mark.

There was a brilliant case a few years ago, where a California district court judge kicked out a handful of “wetbacks”, saying that they were nothing more than criminals trying to take advantage of American generosity. Then in what can only be described as a brilliant stroke of irony, she got caught with a housekeeper who she forged documentation to keep in her employ. (She was a Republican!!!) I guess it’s hard to part with help that costs less than half of what a naturalized American would. (Much like Kool Aid… Only pennies a glass…)

There has been a lot of mixed (Predominately negative and volatile…) reaction to President Bush’s plan to allow undocumented workers to stay in America. He argues that there are a lot of jobs in America that Americans will not work. Frankly (albeit sadly…) he’s correct, there are a lot of jobs Americans won’t work. His plan however is flawed and dangerous.

At the crux, Bush wants people to wonder what America would be like with out wage slave labour? Who will be chambermaids? Who will pick lettuce and fruit? Let’s face it, how can the new Rome function without its servants?

It amazes me that the poorest of the poor are still too expensive for business to flow seamlessly. Why take some poor schmuck, when you can have a Mexican that’s desperate to survive? It takes a really greedy cocksucker to take advantage of people that way.

But I digress…

There are some fundament social problems with this kind of thinking. First America’s temperament needs to be examined. At its core, America is a fundamentally racist country. (Now before people jump down my throat… I will admit two things… 1) Canada isn’t that much better, and 2) I’m not saying that all Americans are racist. Just the people who run the place…)

Historically speaking, it wasn’t that long ago that it practiced its own version of Apartheid. (Some might argue that not too much has changed.)

Given the government reaction during the Katrina crisis, when blacks were overtly treated as second-class citizens, it would be an understatement to say that race relations are a “little” tense. Throw 9/11 into the mix and you have a recipe for paranoid xenophobia.

So it’s not terribly surprising that politically, illegal aliens are not kosher with Americans. Expanding the underclass is definitely not on the agenda. Up to 80 percent of Americans (depending on the poll) think that permitting undocumented workers to stay is a bad deal for the homeland.

The problem isn’t with the lettuce pickers or chambermaids. The problem pops up when their offspring… A new set of first generation Americans want to take their place in the social strata. Resentment will spiral out like a wildfire. The children of wetbacks taking the jobs that Americans actually do want will spark a shit storm.

Don’t believe me; take a look at some really good examples.

1) Nazi Germany. European Jews got one of the biggest shit kickings in history of, because Germans were frustrated and chronically unemployed. Ultimately they were the scapegoat for truly unrelated problems… but the reaction is technically the same. (Even current day Germany is struggling with this. All those children of Turks, Armenians, Croats, and Hungarians are taking “German” jobs. This has been met with intolerance and sparked significant acts of violence.)

2) Current Day Russia. Nazi Skinheads are growing their numbers by leaps and bounds because of the influx of foreigners “taking” Russian jobs.

3) Great Britain. The 1970’s saw the rise of the National Front as a reaction to immigration from India and Africa.

Yet another problem is America’s serious skilled labour crunch. But rather than embracing immigration on a mass scale, (which in any economic model has great benefits…) they’ve made it harder to enter United States legally. It’s harder than solving a Rubik’s cube (While standing over a volcano and balancing spinning plates on your nose).

Truthfully it would make a lot of sense for America to open the doors. Round up all the current illegals and give them a fair shake. Amnesty would send a healthy signal. The benefits would be enormous. It would help to pound organized crime and human trafficking into the dirt. Imagine everyone getting a shot at that good ole American Dream thingy. That would be a beautiful.

Sure there are bound to be some security issues, but that’s why there’s a “Homeland Security” and FBI. You shake out the criminals and leave the rest.

Besides, doesn’t the statue of liberty say “Give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses?” And wasn’t America built on immigration? Without it, America would be a second-class outpost instead of a superpower.

The strengths of a country are best measured in its diversity. That’s where its truest values come from. Only then does it have a combined strength that is unbreakable.

Chewbacca

2006-05-08T03:19:00.000-07:00

Saturday night was fun. After work I headed to the club. I was excited to be on stage. I haven’t played the Calgary club for a while. I was almost a little nervous too. I could feel that familiar spring in my step. (Although it’s been too long since I’ve felt it…)

Anyway, as I headed towards then main doors of the Blackfoot Inn, I glanced through the window and noticed that Peter Mayhew (the guy who played Chewbacca…) was sitting on the couch. He’s a tall lanky man, and kinda scruffy looking too.

I walked up to him and said, “I know you get this all the time but Chewbacca rocks…” He said, “thank you” and shook my hand.

His hands were the size of tennis racquets. My hand seemed to completely disappear in the process of the shake.

Then I said, “Take it easy…” and I turned and walked away. I had just met a childhood icon, and managed to remain calm. (Not that I’m generally star struck anyhow, but this was Chewbacca!!!)

When they introduced me at the start of the show, instead of any credits, I got them to mention that I had just met Chewbacca.

Meeting Peter Mayhew reminded me that life is full of happy accidents. Even as I type this, I have a crooked smile on my face.

Other, stranger stuff happened too.

A 51-year-old woman tried to pick me up. She was flirty and pleasant enough, but also very direct. It was a very curious exchange. I politely declined. (Although I was flattered…)

The shows went well. The first was pretty full, but the crowd was a little less enthusiastic than I normally like. They got into it, but it took a little longer to get them hot. The second show saw the club only half full, but they were much more eager.

P.S. To my friends in Sask... I just found out that Saskatoon and Regina were expecting me with Bobby Keele this past weekend. Unfortunately there was a scheduling change... sorry for the mix up. I'll let you know the next time I'm booked!

Cheers

A little about me!!!

2006-05-06T15:29:00.000-07:00

As a kid, I preferred to read rather than hang with the other kids. (Most of the time… I mean, I wasn’t a hermit like the Unabomber or anything like that…) I liked being alone. My thoughts were always easier to sort that way. I‘ve always had a busy mind… too bad it becomes so easily unfocused. In the right set of circumstances, I can be undone by a chewing gum wrapper. Flies have a better attention span.

In a conversation, I tend to fade out quickly if my interest wanes. I will space out completely. Over the years I have mastered the look of paying attention. I have even learned how to respond in a pseudo convincing manner.

The biggest side effects of having a busy mind manifest themselves blatantly in my poor sleeping habits, and the need for a lot of “me” time. For the last several years, they seem to have had a fixed reciprocal relationship. If only I could find a better balance of the two. I’m sure I’m taking years off of my life because of the exhaustion. It has taken its toll on me for sure.

Most people I know need “me” time once in a while. But I count on it. It’s a crutch for me. Without it, I’m sure I’d go stark raving mad. It offers me freedom. It does for my brain what I imagine a space walk might do for the body. It lets it float. (A little Bowie here please…)

If you were to ask my circle of friends who the quiet one is, they’d all point to me. Generally it’s because I am desperately trying to contain my scattered thoughts. If I let them out all at once, they’d likely have me locked up.

But I’m quiet for other reasons too. I rarely get excited about much. My blood rarely boils. (Until it does… once that fuse is burned I explode…) I love debauchery, and lord knows my friends are good at it, but I prefer to be the spectator. They are my entertainment, not the festivities themselves. It’s their willingness to destroy, and their path of destruction that I admire. As they lead headlong into it, I giggle like a schoolgirl in a Barbie shop.

But I will get a few licks in for myself too. Well, once in a while, but only if I think the chaos needs a little catalyst. Otherwise, I’m content to sit back and listen to the calliope that is their playground toot and holler.

Other Stuff,

Tonight I have two shows at Yuks here in Calgary. I’m excited. It’s been a while since I’ve played the club. I get to work with Freddy and Unger, and that’s cool too. These guys are some of my favorites to work with. It’s gonna be a fun night.

update... MIGRAINE!!!

2006-05-04T15:37:00.000-07:00

I hate migraines. Currently I am recovering from a doozy. It feels like I got hit in the forehead with a 5-pound sledge. Light and sound have been kicking me around like their little bitch all day. Strangely it reminds me of a wildlife documentary I watched where two bobcats were tormenting a turtle. The turtle managed to safely hide inside his shell, but he still got smacked around a fair bit.

The worst parts of a migraine for me are the nausea and the facial numbness. I have become an old pro at recognizing when a nasty one is coming on. I never used to get them, but then I moved to Calgary, and there they started. There is something about the barometric pressure shifting here that lights me up like a roman candle.

I have been trying to “play through the pain” but sadly so far all I’ve been able to muster is lying on the couch and squinting at the television. Weekday television is actually worse than nighttime television. Who gave Tony Danza a show? He’s terrible. I’d rather watch Elvira Kurt. (How fucking sad is that?) Apparently Tony has a fascination with ukuleles. So did Tiny Tim… Perhaps it has something to do with the letter t. I bet Tom Brokaw has a ukulele too.

Grande Prairie

2006-04-29T18:36:00.000-07:00

This is a very different city than Calgary or Edmonton. This city is almost completely driven by the price of oil. There is very little in the way of diversification. Now is the boom time. (Thanks largely to our paranoid friends in the south.) Anyway, I thought I’d post a few pictures of my surroundings in Grande Prairie. Just to give you a sense of what it’s like here.

The street sign for Grande Prairie’s city centre. You’ll notice that the sign also says Alaska. Just how far north am I? In some ways this is kinda a frontier town. People here are a tougher sort, not like the white collar Calgary folk.

This is the actual venue for the gigs here. It in a hotel called the Trumpeter. It’s a nice enough place, clean and modern (ish). The staff is friendly and so far it’s been a pleasant experience. I just wish they had wi-fi in the rooms. (Gawd, I’ve gotten spoiled.

The venue for the gig is right next to the big dance bar here. Apparently it was supposed to be a Cowboys just like in Calgary, but the deal went sour. Now it’s called The Corral. I walked past it last night, just in time to see a typical drunk boy scrap. Yee Haw… I always think it’s kinda funny. These monkeys think that fighting is a rite of passage.

12 bucks an hour at Mc Shitty’s! It’s not hard to tell that oil is 75 bucks a barrel. I went in there last night, and no one was over the age of 15. Labor shortages are the norm here now.

Something I've learned...

2006-04-29T16:09:00.000-07:00

Last night’s show was not well attended. There were a total of 10 people in the audience. It was another episode of what I like to call intimate and interactive stand up. Over the last little while I’ve discovered there are two types of comics, those who persecute small audiences and those who don’t.

When I started out, it seems natural to lash out in a small room. For some reason, ego almost seems to force that issue. I thought I was a star, brilliant beyond comparison. How could these people not appreciate that? How dare they not appreciate that! (I was an arrogant dick…)

Then as I got older, (and over myself…) I realized that these are the people that came to the show. If I were going to get mad, why would it be at them? These were the people who wanted to come and see the show. Why do they deserve to be treated badly? The only answer here is that they don’t!

Now don’t get me wrong, a misbehaved audience needs to be corrected every now and then, but that’s a different animal altogether.

I’m amazed when I see seasoned pros shit on a crowd for being (too) small. I would have thought they would have gotten it by now. Nobody ever pays to see a tantrum. More to the point no one wants to see a “professional” act like a spoiled child.

Sometimes, I think we forget that this is a job! The show is just as much about the audience as it is about my “pearls” of wisdom.

The waitresses here in Grande Prairie mentioned that it was nice to see comics that weren’t being dicks to the audience. That in itself is a sad commentary.

Working with Bobby has been a good positive reinforcement of that lesson for me. Nothing on stage seems to faze him. He’s as gracious with 10 people as he is in front of 300.

New on the ipod this week...

2006-04-29T16:06:00.000-07:00

Anti Flag – For Blood And Empire

This is first major label release from Anti Flag. Usually when a band of this caliber jumps from the minors they release a stack of shit. This is not one of those records.

This is a near perfect soundtrack for those who are disaffected with our current political climate. From the first chord to the very last cry, it bleeds anger and frustration, and then surprisingly… hope.

The standout tracks are “Trillion Dollars” and “The Press Corpse.”

This disc has some of the most impressive liner notes I have ever seen. These are my favorite quotes from it.

“We have nothing to fear, but fear itself” Franklin Roosevelt.

“I have nothing to sell, but fear itself” George W. Bush.

This one rocks your lame ass!!!

Fairview...

2006-04-28T17:08:00.000-07:00

So, I was in Fairview with Bobby Keele last night. Strangely the gig went off without much of a hitch. Normally it can be pretty chaotic. With an almost certainty, the audience is generally pretty foul and abrasive. (Truthfully that’s being polite…) Happily this was not the case last night.

While there were really only 9 people in the bar, (not counting the staff.) they were attentive. It helped a lot that there were a handful of Newfs who were homesick. I became a reminder of home, and that helped me to dig in and give them a decent show.

For the uninitiated, Fairview is a dirt bowl town in the Peace Country of northern Alberta. I would not be the first to point out that the town is poorly named. It is neither fair nor is their a view of any sort. If Calgary is the new body of economic might in Canada, then Fairview is its armpit. (A musty sweaty armpit…)

The venue is a run down hotel; its better days are very clearly long since gone. The staff, while pleasant enough, clearly has given up hope that the business will ever be an entertainment draw for the locals. I suspect that the weekly comedy show there is little more than a tax write off.

The interior of the bar has an unnatural greenish hue. It’s the kind of bar that looks like something out of a bad cowboy movie. (Without those fun flapping doors…) It’s grimy walls and carelessly looked after furniture lack any sense of invitation for potential patrons. You’d imagine that even rats might think twice before popping in for a cold one.

Its places like this that make a comic reevaluate his / her career. Normally it’s good to live in the moment on stage, but while you’re on stage in Fairview its much more likely to cause you to live in your last nightmare.

Traveling with Bobby has been good so far. I like him. At his best, he’s a good man (A little rough around the edges…) who has found his place in the world. At his worst, he’s a good drinking buddy. I’ve learned a lot, even just in the ride here. This is a true road warrior, with a quarter of century and a million miles of pavement under his belt.

Today starts the Grande Prairie leg of this little mini tour. Apparently it’s been a little rough here lately. I hope that things go well tonight. The last thing either of us needs is an unpleasant situation. That would suck.

I found out today that I’ve picked up a Calgary date. May 6th both shows. I’m looking forward to that. It’s been a while since I’ve played the club.

Anyway more tomorrow…

A Saturday by Any Other Name is...

2006-04-22T18:30:00.000-07:00

Today feels like the longest day in human history. I’m tired, and I’m not sure why. I slept reasonably well, but I feel like I’m being dragged from behind a stagecoach. (Or at least what I imagine that to feel like.)

Work has been tedious today too. I feel surrounded by the minutia. Every detail is picking at me. My gang seems to be working well, (with notable exceptions who shall remain nameless…) and I’ve got a lot done, but there still seems to be tons to do.

It’s been almost a month since I’ve been on stage, and I’m getting a little itchy. Next week, I’m on the road, and I really need it. I feel as if I’m covered in rust. It will be nice to scrape it off.

Otherwise things are well. I’ve no real news to tell, and for once, nothing is really picking at my ass. I suppose I could beat up on the President a little more, but I’m feeling a little merciful right now. Besides I never really wanted this blog to be all about him anyway. (Regardless of it’s title)

Truth is this whole blog mess of mine was supposed to be about me, and while these are my thoughts, I should spend more time exposing my life. Oddly I’m a pretty private person, and it takes a lot to drag out who I really am.

What are the things that make me tick? This has been a hard question for me to answer. I’ve been stuck trying to figure out a lot of this.

I know I’m not a lesbian, or a Nazi, or an anarchist (although I love it when I see it…), I’m not big on pain, and I hate the colour yellow.

I don’t like eggplant, and I’ll never be a farmer. I like horses, cats, and dogs. I dislike cows, and I’m glad we eat them. The best thing about a cow is that it tastes great with BBQ sauce.

I like lots of different types of music, but punk will always be in my heart. I like music that reeks of reckless abandon.

I respect the armed forces, and am willing to admit I’m too much of a coward to do what they do. (including the hazing stuff…)

I would do nothing for the rest of my life if I could. Sure that’s lazy, but I don’t care. I would love to live in the country, but only if I could have TV and Internet.

I hate lawn mowing and vacuuming equally. Although I don’t mind cleaning the kitchen for some reason.

People with an agenda that’s radically different than mine kind of scare me. It’s not just overly religious types or politicians either. Lately I’ve been suspiciously eyeing our mailman.

People with angry pets freak me out too, as do those who insist on keeping snakes or other reptiles (as well as rodents and arachnids…) that just doesn’t seem right to me.

I don’t usually trust vegans, (although there are a couple that break that rule…) or anyone who get too excited about Birkenstocks. You can wear them, but if we need to have more than a passing note about them, then there’s a dysfunction.

I’m not a Leafs or Oilers fan, nor could I really give a shit about Ottawa or Vancouver. (I really believe that Hockey is a gift from the heavens.)

I love Scotch and Irish whiskey. Bourbon and Rye whiskey are constructs of the devil and frighten me. (Mostly because they make me lippy. Well… more so than I already am…) Red wine and beer are good too. (Except anything that comes in a box or is made by Molson or Labatt. Bleech…)

I love to fly. The feeling of taking off is awesome. I pretend in my head that I’m going into space. (ROCKET MAN…) I hate landings though. Especially if my ears don’t pop. That makes me both cranky and clumsy. Not a winning combination for me at the best of times.

Golf is fucking boring. So are curling, lawn darts, and horseshoes. I hate lumberjack skills competitions too, and yet somehow I can’t stop watching it if it’s on TV.

I would like to punch Lou Dobb’s in the nose, and yet Paula Zahn and Anderson Cooper are inoffensive to me. (This I just don’t get…) I would pay good money to watch Larry King stick fight with Ted Turner. (I’m not even kidding…)

I hate clowns, mimes and street performers. All of them! I also hate improve guys and prop acts. Fucking boring!!! The only thing worse to me is a magician. (Especially that Cris Angel guy… He needs a beat down in the worst kind of way. I’ve seen the Crow… It wasn’t that good…)

Anyway, more as I think of it…

Flames Beat the Ducks in Game 1.

2006-04-22T00:47:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. I had the day off, and pretty much engrossed myself in nothing but hockey. I spent the better part of the morning listening to the major sports networks’ prognostications about this year’s brawl for the cup.

Later on I went to Brett’s to watch the game. I’m glad I got to hang out with him. I’ve missed him. It’s nice to see him planting some roots. He seems happier than I can ever recall. Perhaps taking a break from his hobo life is doing him some good.

Anyway…

We played guitar for a while, and then watched the Oilers and Wings opener. Both of us trying to contain ourselves… Our team was next on the bill. I could barely stand the wait. Then the stupid Wings tied it… and the Flames game started late.

The game was a bit of a nail biter, but in the end, the right team won.

From the looks of it, this series with the Ducks is going to be a hard fought one. Kipper, Jerome and McCarty all looked really good out there tonight. It was nice to see Amonte kick off the scoring too.

More stuff to come later…

HAPPY PLAYOFFS!!!

2006-04-21T12:40:00.000-07:00

I think I like the NHL playoffs more than Christmas. This year is going to awesome. GO FLAMES GO!!!

I've spent the entire day watching the Sportsnet's preview coverage. Did I mention GO FLAMES GO!!!

The 44th President of The United States of America... Marcus C. Beaubier

2006-04-20T00:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I wrote about President Bush. Lisa left a comment asking what I’d do if I were President of the United States. I thought about it, and this is what I came up with.

Now I realize that a lot of this is a little foolhardy. (Some might argue it as folly even.) However what’s wrong with having some principles? Imagine if elected officials did even just half of this stuff. Things would get a whole lot better.

Some of my American friends will likely say that it’s easy as a Canadian to be judgmental and self-righteous, and truthfully their right. I’m smug about it, and I don’t care.

Others may argue that America’s internal politics are not a Canadian’s business. I take exception with that. America has an enormous impact on my country. From Trade to entertainment, we are sewn together. (Not to mention many other countries get us confused when we travel… Why do you think Americans sew Canadian flags on their luggage?)

Anyway, if I were President of the United States, I would:

1) Act like a human being. I would not let my own greed or prejudices stand in the way of common decency. (Mind you this one is probably harder than it looks.)

2) I would admit to my failures rather than trying to affix blame or point fingers. (At least this way is more honest, and truly transparent…)

3) I would choose a cabinet that had no association to the big oil companies. (Or oil companies pretending to have expertise in infrastructure reconstruction…)

4) I would respect the judgment of my peers. (Especially those who have been long time allies. Sober second thought is never a bad idea.)

5) I would not act unilaterally. (Passing off “the Coalition of the willing” as legit was really sad…)

6) I would not permit the people of my armed services to torture, or humiliate foreign nationals, regardless of any legitimate charges placed upon them. (Camp X-Ray and Abu Gurab should be an enormous embarrassment to America. For a nation trying to sell western democracy, you’re sure doing a shit job of it. Let’s just throw away due process…)

7) I would pass a law forcing former Enron and Adelphia executives (or the next ones to fuck people like that...) to wear sandwich boards saying “I am a thief and a liar!!!” or “I’m a really, really, really greedy bastard and I stole your money!!!” and force them to work in soup kitchens. (I would make punishments fit the crime. I’m a big fan of creative sentencing... You should see what I have in mind for Trent Lott...)

8) I would listen to reason. (A little common sense never hurt anyone.)

9) I would not use revenge as a justification for anything. (Or as a bogus deflection so I could rob another country blind!)

10) Instead of paying lip service to the statement “No child left behind…” I would do everything in my power to make sure they weren't.

11) I would stop pretending that everything was Okay.

12) I would make a credible attempt at finding alternatives to oil. (I suspect the best way to render those “Terrorist” nations inert is to make their oil useless… or at the very least, buy from friendly nations.)

13) I would listen to the needs of my people. (After all, they’re the boss!)

14) I would try to remember that Government is for the people, by the people and of the people. (People should never be afraid of their government. Government should be afraid of it’s people…)

The Worst President in 100 Years

2006-04-19T00:14:00.000-07:00

I thought about what a good caption for this picture might be...

"Gee... I wonder what I'd look like with a Mexican Wrestling Mask on?"

George Bush’s incompetence has driven America’s debt load into the stratosphere. Each American’s personal share of the national debt is now in excess of 30,000 dollars. That’s insane!

In addition to the staggering debt load, America will need 43 Trillion dollars to meet its obligations for Medicare and social security. Add a defense budget (with all branches… including The Marines, Army, Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard, FBI, CIA, NSA, Homeland Security, FEMA, and INS…) and spending on the civil service and that could escalate well into the high 70’s.

I thought that Republican’s were strong proponents of small government and reduced spending? Bush is clearly the oxymoron to this conservative agenda. Never has this been more apparent than in the last month. Neo Cons are jumping from this ship in record numbers. It seems the party sees baby Bush as a liability. Is there any wonder why?

Hs failures are numerous. His tax cuts failed to ignite the economy. There are 5 million more people living below the poverty line than under the Clinton presidency. In addition, there’s a lower percentage of working age Americans that are employed, (or who are under employed…) and the manufacturing sector has been all but gutted.

New economy jobs are pouring out of the country and heading towards Asia with near reckless abandon. Not what I’d call a stellar economic record. Even Ronald Reagan’s Voodoo economics concept worked better. (And that was disgraceful!!!)

Then there’s the failure to achieve any real or concrete objective in Iraq. Saddam’s gone, and that’s great, but in the occupation’s wake, a civil war looms in the distance. More than two thousand soldiers have died, and end of the engagement is nowhere to be seen. It’s been three years since the shock and awe, and now it looks more like “Aw Shucks…”

Afghanistan isn’t much better, and Osama is still on the loose. Wasn’t he the one that America was supposed to be looking for? Isn’t he the terrorist that fucked with the Good ole U. S of A? (And just what exactly did he have in common with Iraq?)

Then there’s the brewing nuclear feud with Iran… During a recent press conference, Bush indicated, “All options were on the table!” But with North Korea, he just pussyfooted about. I guess all cranky America hating dictators are not made the same.

Let’s not forget the huge fuck up in dealing with the aftermath of Katrina. Not only has Bush managed to polarize the entire globe, but also now he set back race relations in America a couple of decades. (It was on shaky ground to begin with…)

Throw in some illegal spying on everyday Americans, the absence of WMD’s, fucking Canadians out of 5 billion dollars, and passing legislation that restricts individual freedoms and the fire under his but is stoked just a little higher.

But then again it must be hard when criminals like Scooter Libby, and Karl Rove surround you on a daily basis, and I’m sure Dick (the Shotgun wielding lunatic) and Donald (the freaky Nazi) don’t help much either.

But not to worry America... Bush can't be President forever...

Yeah Baby... Flames Win The Division!!!

2006-04-14T03:26:00.000-07:00

Kipper
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.

The Flames succeeded in capturing the division title tonight!!! Bring on the Ducks... Time for some Duck Flambe...

Kipper also got his league leading 10th shutout of the season!!!

A dam good night for hockey in Calgary.

I'm in Charge, and There's Gonna be a few Changes Around Here...

2006-04-14T03:11:00.000-07:00

“When there’s nothing left to lose, you’d better set yourself on fire…” – Stars 2005

I’m feeling a lot better today. I’ve decided to make some changes in my lifestyle, and give myself a little make over in the process. There’s nothing like a little tune up to get the motor revving again.

I guess that recognizing the problem is part of the cure. I’ve been feeling stale, and now I have the motivation to get the ball rolling again. As I wrote last night, I realized that I had strayed from the ideals and values that I hold closest. The spirit of DIY had slipped away from my consciousness, and I pretended that I didn’t notice.

But it’s easier to pretend than admit that you’ve been run over. The land of make believe is a sneaky and brilliant way of accepting that denial is a healthy state to be in. It however is the coward’s path. (And it seems a path that’s taken too often by too man people…)

In some ways I’ve been a ghost of who I am. That really sucks. I can’t believe that I let that happen. Somewhere along the way I let my character slip a little. I’m a strongly opinionated and passion driven person. It’s time to prove it again. (To me…)

Since I was about 15 years old, the punk rock ethic was my code. I believed in it, and with that I succeeded at the things I put my hand to. That along with sheer moxie got me into film school, and convinced me that I could do anything I wanted to.

It was my divining rod. It highlighted the path I wanted to take with my life. Somewhere along the way I confused growing up with leaving that behind. That was a critical mistake on my part. Not that I want to be Sid Vicious at 35. That would be a different kind of mistake. (A gruesome one at that…)

As of today, that confusion is gone. I am refocused. While the combat boots and blue hair are gone, (Although I just can’t seem to part with those old high top Vans…) I am reinvigorated. I may lead headlong into harm, but now it’s back on my terms. I am no longer satisfied. I’m hungry again. Even as I type this, I feel a little imbibed.

When I was in Toronto last year, I saw a glimmer of that ethic. It reared its head ever so slightly. I was motivated. I was writing, and I was happy. Both my ID and Ego were charged and ready to go. As of today, its all systems go.

Bring on the scotch, the rock star is back… and this time he’s pissed.

“Second star to the right, and sail on till morning…”

The Soundtrack of My Life Vol 2...

2006-04-13T00:08:00.000-07:00

I know that I've been a shitty blogger lately. For those of you who still actually read this, I promise I'll try and post more regularly.

Anyway...

I feel as if I’ve stumbled a little lately. It’s as if my wings have been pinned down. I just can’t seem to find the motivation to write. I’ve been struggling with a few new bits, and I can’t seem to break the levy. Perhaps I’ve been trying too hard. Regardless, it’s driving me crazy.

I really need to be on stage more too. I’ve been trying to find a balance there, and so far, I haven’t had too much luck.

Perhaps I need an adventure of some sort. Something new to get those creative juices flowing again. Whatever I wind up doing, I hope I can scrape the rust off. Otherwise, this shitty sinking feeling is going to drive me mad.

Normally I’d strike up a conversation with my good friend “Scotch” but lately we
don’t seem to be on speaking terms. In addition, I’m having a hard time finding a good cup of coffee. Lately Tim’s just isn’t doing it for me. (God listen to me would ya… Could I bitch any more?)

And I kinda want to get into a fistfight. Lord knows where that comes from.

At the end of the month I’m off to Grande Prairie with Bobby Keele. It’s the first time I’ll have ever worked with him on the road. I like Bobby, so I hope that all goes well.

My friendships seem a little off kilter too. I feel like I’m outta the loop. I hate that.

Okay enough Neurosis…

I’ve been thinking about some other records that have had an impact on me… So I decided to do a part 2 to The Soundtrack of my life.

Again I present them in no particular order.

1)Dag Nasty – Wig Out At Denko’s

I love this fucking record. It’s an excellent example of good old-fashioned America Hardcore. This album reminds me so much of my friend Diz. We were both huge Dag fans; truly it was almost obscene in retrospect.

We used to play this record over and over again in his old Chev Cavalier. This was the soundtrack to much of my last summer in Newfoundland. It was one of the best times of my life. That was a pretty stress free time. Two carefree months of doing sweet fuck all. It was truly splendid. We did a lot of drinking, and pretty much anything else we wanted.

I wish I could revisit that summer, even if only for like 10 minutes. That was the same summer that Russell and I devised “The Audiotoon Theatre.” Little did I realize that would be the inspiration for me becoming a stand up comic.

2) Bad Brains – I Against I

This is a heck of a record too. This one reminds me of working at the record store. It was the only job where I spent more than I made. They really didn’t even really need to pay me. Every cent I made went right back to the store. By the time I had quit, I had quite the music collection.

I actually got to meet the Bad Brains. The store got me backstage passes to go and see them when they played at The Republic. (RIP) I still have the picture that the band’s manager took of me hanging out with them. It was a very cool night. (One of my absolute favorite nights of all time.)

From the very first chord of Intro, I was in punk rock heaven. The best stage diving in the world occurs at a Bad Brains show.

3)Ministry – The Mind is A Terrible Thing to Taste.

This band is more like the soundtrack to my nightmares. To me Ministry is a sonic traffic accident. I find them appealing because they scare the shit out of me. Breathe and Burning Inside are two stand outs for sure. It sounds like the battle cry of the all the things that go bump in the night.

I read somewhere that this record was mixed while Alien Jorgensen was wired on LSD that he washed down with a quart of Tequila. It sure sounds like it to me.

In their hay day, they made Marilyn Manson look more like Rick Astley.

4)Descendents – I Don’t Wanna Grow Up.

Another punk rock classic… Generally speaking, when Wig Out wasn’t in the CD player, this one was. This one’s a testament to acting like an idiot and having fun doing it.

It’s every underage beer, and every stuck bra clasp. I, like countless others, started a punk band shortly after hearing this disc. It was an inspiration. It still is. Whenever I start to take myself too seriously, I pop it in.

5)Talking Heads – Stop Making Sense.

I love this album because of the version of Psycho Killer. It’s fantastic. This was playing when I got to make out with Jessica Webb. She was every try hard pre pubescent punk’s dream girl. I was not exception. I was totally Koo Koo for Jessica.

We hit it off. She could have asked me to jump off a bridge and I would have. Happily she was as kind hearted, as she was beautiful. As with all things, it came to a screeching halt when her parents sent her away to private school.
For some reason, every now and then, I want to call her. Just to see how she’s doing. (It’s been nearly 20 years since the last time we talked…) She was a cool person, and I suspect she’s just as cool now.

Anyway, every time I hear that song, I think of her. Last summer I got to see David Byrne play live. The whole time I had a coy little smile on my face.

6)Bad Religion – Against the Grain.

The Christmas of 1991, my parents and sister went to Calgary. I had to stay in Newfoundland because of my job. I was trying to save money so I could go to school. Diz and Russ stayed with me, and we put up a tree, and had a nice Christmas with our friends.

My friend “Chicken” gave me this disc at our Christmas Eve party. I still have it. It’s the original vinyl and it’s in immaculate shape. It’s been played only twice. Once to make a cassette of it, and once to encode it to mp3.

Every time I listen to tracks from this album, I think back to that Christmas. It was a pretty killer time. It was the first time I ever threw a party, and I still think it was one of the best.

7)Radiohead – O.K. Computer.

I was introduced to this album by my friend Matthew. I miss him. He was loud, usually obnoxious, (yet strangely charming…) but always decent and true. He’s well on his way to becoming famous now. He’s just finished a movie with Harrison Ford, and was in the remake of “The Fog.”

When I met him, he was a struggling video store clerk. He and his wife (The well and truly lovely Shannon, of whom I was equally fond of…) were constant companions. Till recently, they were the only people I traveled a ridiculous distance to go and visit. (Excluding family…)

We used to drink red wine and lounge in a fairly bohemian fashion.

Anyway that’s it for this pile. Again there are more… and again they are for later.

04/01/06 I'm Back...

2006-04-01T11:40:00.000-08:00

Well it’s been almost two weeks since my last post. I haven’t had too much to report. I’m still alive and feeling pretty much like myself. I’ve written a few new jokes, and gotten a few hundred new grey hairs. Otherwise life has been quiet lately.

Last weekend I went to Yuks for first time in what seems like ages. I did some time, it turned out to be a really good set. I was in full rock star mode. Sometimes I like it when that part of my character comes out to play. He doesn’t come out too often these days, but when he does, you can follow him by the trail of empty scotch glasses left in his wake.

Other Stuff…

I'll probably get hate mail over this one...

I just watched the trailer for United 93. I think it’s very sad that 9/11 is a marketing machine unto itself. (Not that it’s terribly surprising…) It strikes me that there should be a big difference between “never forgetting” and “beating a dead horse.” Alas it seems there is not.

Every time a movie like this gets made, it cheapens the tragedy just a little more, and tarnishes sorrow with a slick veneer of patriotism. We need little reminder that we live in dangerous times, and yet we are bombarded with this message on a daily basis. As if America needs to be reminded to be paranoid. If there’s one thing America is good at, it’s paranoia.

It would be different if this were a movie made to set some sort of historical context. Not that it really needs to be put in a historical context… It’s still very fresh in everyone’s memory. Truthfully if anything this topic has too much context. Any conversation lasting more than an hour these days will be rife with 9/11 references.

This movie was made to make money. It’s fairly plain and simple… Universal is doing nothing more than milking the 9/11 teet. (Or leaving a huge ass tooth under their pillow for the 911 fairy…) I’m not sure you could get tackier.

How do you market this? I think it takes a lot of balls to turn to the public and pass this crap off as a memorial. I sort of imagine it like this.

Montage: Planes colliding with the trade towers, dissolve to a tattered but still fluttering American flag.

Voice over: Parking 5 dollars, movie ticket 10 dollars, popcorn and soda at the concession 15 dollars, that sinking feeling that your intelligence and sensitivities are about to be insulted… Priceless.

It’s amazing that the hogs at the trough will hoard just about anything. There is no dignity, just old-fashioned greed. Apparently anything can be churned into a dollar and that’s just not right.

The biggest problem here is that any sense of humanity and compassion has been totally stomped out in favour of schmaltz, and that is the biggest tragedy of all. I agree that we should never forget what happened, but isn’t time to stop milking it? It’s been nearly 5 years. Aren’t their other, better things to sap cash from? Like Iraq for instance…

The Soundtrack of my life Vol. 1

2006-03-20T02:40:00.000-08:00

My friend Angela (shyangela.blogspot.com) on occasion posts what she calls the soundtrack of her life. I really like that. Music has always had an enormous impact on my life. I got to thinking about what albums have had the biggest affect on me. The result brought back a flood of memories from different times in my life. Whether the albums were inspirational, or comforting they represent a character sketch of me.

So I decided to share them with you. I present them in no particular order.

1) R.E.M – Life’s Rich Pageant. This vaults me back to high school. This record was playing at the first house party I ever went to in High School. From the second I walked in the door, I was stunned by Begin The Begin. I had heard R.E.M before, but this was the first time I had ever paid them any attention. The record had a sense of urgency to it. It was like punk played by The Byrds. I think the next day I went to the mall and bought the lp.

It was also at this party that I met Jennifer Parsons. Soon after we started to date, and did so until our second year in university. She was my first real girl friend, and the only one to stay in my heart. (Despite the constant heartache we inflicted on one another…) To this day we have retained a healthy friendship.

2) The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead. I got this one for Christmas one year. I wasn’t expecting it. I had in fact at the time never heard of them. A family friend got the cassette for me figuring that I’d like it. He was right. It had a brilliant sense of humour to it. The lyrics were brazen and full of fantastic imagery. The song Bigmouth Strikes Again still makes me laugh.

I had gone through a bit of a depressing spell in High School (Not terribly surprising I guess…) and The Smiths helped get me through it. I was as misfit. I hated the system, and the microcosm of social groups didn’t really help all that much either. Somehow, Morrissey’s lyrics seemed to nail my frustration right on the head. It was the reinforcement that I needed. It was okay to be different., and I wasn’t crazy for feeling that way.

3) Husker Du – Zen Arcade. From the start of the rumbling bass of “Something I learned today” I knew I had found something special. By the time I heard Bob Mould’s guitar for the first time it became apparent it was more than special. It ignited a life long love of music.

I saw a t-shirt for this band at the first all ages show that I ever went to. It was 5 bucks to see 5 bands. I still remember the bands that played. Tough Justice, Section 17, Schizoid, WAFUT, and Dog Meat BBQ. It was cool. It was at that show where I began to start figuring some things out. I did fit somewhere. I fit with the others that didn’t fit. (Kinda funny really…)

I was a kid from the burbs who wanted something different. So I went out and found it. It was the start of what has so far been an interesting life. I took Robert Frost’s other path.

4) Public Image LTD. – Compact Disc. The Sex Pistols were pretty awful, but Pil on the other hand was brilliantly inspired. Johnny Rotten had managed to create Art Punk, and it worked. Compact Disc (or Cassette, Album, Poster etc…) was a loud ruckus. I loved it.

This was another house party album. I went to some rich kid’s summer home (Not very Punk I realize…) and had a killer time. It was the first time I got high. It was a splendid time. I met a girl named Jessica there and fell hard for her. It didn’t really go anywhere… well not more than a few clumsy make out sessions, but it was brilliant nonetheless. I still smile when I think of that night. I can’t believe that was almost 20 years ago.

5) Sugar – Copper Blue. This was Bob Mould’s second band. It was loud and heavy, but had a pop sensibility. This in my humble estimation was the best record of the 90’s. The songs “Helpless” and “Changes” seemed to resonate rather well with were my life was going.

I had just moved to Calgary to go to school and knew no one. I got a part time job at a record store to try and keep afloat, and got this as a promo disc. (Only after I professed my undying love of Bob Mould to my boss…)

Anyway, I went for beers with classmates one night, and I got a lift home from one of them. I played this disc in the car on the way, and wound up with a roommate. Chris Hoy was the only good roommate I ever had. We lived together on and off for nearly a decade.

He became a partner in crime. There were so many hair brained schemes (Too many to count.) and drunken nights of total debauchery. He was a brother too me and was almost instantly adopted by my family. Nothing was sacred when we hung around… I miss him a lot.

I’ll never forget the time he came home with a case of beer and a garden gnome. His eyes were wild and insane. (But that’s a story for another time…)

Every time I listen to this disc I think about those days. Every happy, stupid moment comes rushing back like it was yesterday. I usually have to turn the volume up on this one.

6) The Cars – Heartbeat City. This is the only rock and roll record my dad and I can agree on. Generally he hates most everything I listen to, but he actually bought this one for me… Because he liked it…

It was a birthday present from him. I remember sitting in the breakfast nook of our old house, and he handed it to me. He looked pleased with himself, as if he had scored some points or something. (Not that he ever needed to worry about that. My Dad rocks…)

I used to catch him every now and then with my Walkman on, humming away to “Magic.” To this day, the song reminds me of him.

7) The The – Dusk. The first time I heard this Cd was in a little café that I used to hang out at called the Koop. This was the kind of place that stayed open to spite itself. It was a great little refuge in tucked away in a seedy shit hole of a building that should have likely been condemned. Chris and I discovered it by accident, and became part of its faithful clientele. It became the central meeting place for all my friends and me in the 90’s. I formed some very important relationships in that café.

I met my ex-wife there, but more importantly I met lee and Grant. These are two people that to this day I hold in the highest esteem. I think everyone should have a pair of well-matched vegan activists in their lives. They have managed to keep me grounded over the years, and saw me though some pretty rough times. I own them more than you can possibly imagine.

Anyway, as with all things, The Koop eventually went the way of the Dodo. The Cd however remained in the collection and is still in constant rotation in my ipod.

8) Doughboys – Happy Accidents. This record is the near perfect document of my time at CHMR in Newfoundland. I spent just about every waking minute of my time at that radio station. (Much to my parents chagrin…) This disc managed to get played about 5 times a day for nearly 4 years.

It was at CHMR that I met Russell. Over the years, he has been more than key player in my life. Russ is a brother to me. He couldn’t be any closer. Not even by birth. Over the years he seems to have adopted my family as his own, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. If it weren’t for Russ, I wouldn’t be a comedian today. Out of boredom one night we started a sketch comedy troupe. Somehow we managed to write 8 half hour episodes for radio, and then managed to get ourselves on the CBC repeatedly. I have always suspected that he’s both a genius and a natural grifter. He is a super hero to me. (But he sucks ass at air hockey…)

9) The Clash – London Calling. I have had about 6 copies of this album since 1986. It is as perfect an album as I can possibly think of. This disc has traveled with me literally everywhere I’ve been. From San Francisco to Florida and Vancouver to St. John’s, it has kept me company. It is my open road record. I take it when I tour. It reminds me of me. I have a near unexplainable connection to it. I have debated its merits with just about everyone I know. I have given it as a gift to countless others. For some reason I insist on sharing it.
I remember sitting in a Chock Full of Nuts diner in San Francisco, having a cup of coffee and humming along to “Spanish Bombs” and thinking to myself that life couldn’t be much better than this.

10) Bob Marley – Legend. The only compilation to make it on the list. This reminds me of working at Bar None in St. John’s. It was a punk bar, and one of those near perfect venues to see a band. There was many a sweaty night spent in the pit slamming into one another at high velocity.

During the day, we used to pump this record out into the street. We smoked a lot of dope and talked about taking over the world. Bob was a prophet and we were his priests.

11) James – Pleased To Meet You. This one is quite special. It reminds me of the people that are closest to me now. Denise, Russ, Brett Martin (thebrettmartin.blogspot.com), Peter Anthony, Dan Rock (danielrock.blogspot.com), and Erin. It fits with how I think about all of them. I love them all. They are the ones that have supported all the decisions that have gotten me to this point in my life. These are the people that reminded me why I do what I do, and pick me up when I fall down.

Of course there are others… but those are for another time.

Now it’s time to sleep.

2006-03-13T13:26:00.000-08:00

What kind of pirate am I? You decide!
You can also view a breakdown of results or put one of these on your own page!
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

2006-03-08T16:29:00.000-08:00

Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?
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03/05/06 35 and Feeling Freakish...

2006-03-06T01:22:00.000-08:00

Today was my 35th birthday. It’s been an interesting year. Another year older, and yet for some reason I really don’t feel any wiser. Quite the opposite in fact, I think I might actually be regressing. Maybe I’ve learned more than I think, but I doubt it. Most days I feel like my knuckles are dragging in the dirt.

“Me getting old… Me like smashing stuff…”

I spent the majority of the week as the MC at the Calgary club. The week started out kinda slow but progressively got better. I took Friday night off so I could go and see Bob Mould at Macewan Hall. It was a good show. That was my real Birthday celebration. (For more details about the show, check out danielrock.blogspot.com)

I had a few drinks after the late show last night. A few friends came down to wish me a happy birthday, but I really wasn’t too much into it. I was actually feeling a little glum. This year has progressed fairly well on all fronts in my life, and yet I can’t help but look at it like it’s a bit of a gift horse with crappy teeth. I find myself thinking, “There’s got to be more than this…” Is that normal I wonder?

Perhaps I just need to choke down the daily grind. Hell most people do it. Is it wrong to want more? (Actually I’m feeling pretty insistent about wanting more.) Lately there seems to be a sense of urgency that I cannot shake. It’s like a grumpy overcoat. It’s been keeping me awake at night. (As if that would make my sleeping patterns any more fucked up…)

I guess I just need to ponder why I’m feeling dissatisfied. Hopefully I’ll find the answer soon. This feeling really needs to go away. Maybe I just need more vitamin B in my diet. Perhaps I need to fill my head with some new and more challenging information. A new task or two might do the trick as well. Heck… Throw in a few goals and I could be away at the races.

It’s been a bit of a fuzzy day. Perhaps it was a little hair of the dog, but I really wasn’t firing on all cylinders. I’ve never been a big party kinda guy. Things like parties tend to make me feel a little awkward. Perhaps it’s too much attention. (Very ironic considering I’m a comic…)

Anyway… More to come.

02/28/06

2006-02-28T12:03:00.000-08:00

I think that where you live defines who you are. I’m not necessarily referring to geographic location, (Although geopolitical lines certainly come into play when reflecting attitudes…) but more so the type of place in which you live.

For instance, it strikes me that if you refer to your home as a “compound” then for all practical purposes you are probably nuts. Allow me to illustrate further…

David Koresh and his Branch Davidians lived in a compound. Those whackos in Waco were snug as a bug in a rug. At one point they had 85 people packed into their humble adobe.

The Kennedy’s with all their mellow drama, live in a compound too, not to mention the Aryan Nations, (Well actually they got they got it taken away from them… but they used to have one.) Phelps and his cronies have one, and there are scads and scads of militias that call them home sweet home too.

Generally people who live in compounds usually have something to hide. They’re also people who tend to exhibit extreme anti social behaviour. (See “Stockpile automatic weapons” and “polygamy”)

Next on the list of homes for the less than emotionally stable are ranches. Now here I don’t mean actually cattle ranches. My thinking here is more geared to those who refer to their home as a ranch. (Although I guess some of them would actually have cows and the like…)

Michael Jackson lives on a ranch. Charles Manson used to live on one too. Charlton Heston lives on a ranch, as do the Bushs, the Regans, and a veritable litany of other kooks.

Lastly anyone who lives in a shack is likely to be off kilter. The Unabomber lived in a shack, and that guy was fucked.

Anyway enough of this silliness…

02/26/06 More on Phelps...

2006-02-26T02:02:00.000-08:00

Here is some more stuff to reinforce the last post.

This is an actual quote from the website...

"Diane Whipple, a filthy dyke, died in her sins on Jan. 26, 2001, as a result of being mauled by two dogs. God used literal dogs to kill a figurative dog - sodomites being likened unto dogs for beast-filthiness (Deut. 23:17, Mat. 7:6, Phil. 3:2, 2 Pet. 2:7,8,12,22; Rev. 22:15). Fags & dykes = dogs & sows. She lived like a beast, died like a beast, at the hands of beasts, and is mourned by a family of beasts! The wrath and fury that smote Diane Whipple - suddenly and violently ripping her throat out and casting her forthwith into the everlasting flames of Hell - is poised to similarly visit this evil sodomite-dominated nation in final overwhelming vengeance. Jer. 9:9. Sharon Smith (the dead dyke's lover) and Penny Whipple-Kelly (the dead dyke's guilty, dyke-pimp, mother-from-Hell) need a reality check. Diane is in Hell, and you will join her there - where you three will bitterly curse each other forever, as you gnaw your tongues in pain and blaspheme God. Flames of God's wrath will engulf you and fill your heads, bowels, and limbs. The same is happening to Diane now."

Another stellar quote...

"When Matthew Shepard died on October 12, 1998, every pervert in this country (from Bill Clinton on down) used his death as a soap box to promote so-called "gay rights." The reality is that Matthew Shepard died because he was trolling for strange flesh and meth. See The Big Laramie Project Lie. These same perverts ignored the vicious murder of 13-year-old Jesse Dirkhising by two fags. In religious protest of this, WBC picketed the funeral of Matthew Shepard, to inject a little truth and sanity into the irrational orgy of lies consuming this world. And WBC held a memorial service for Jesse Dirkhising at his lonely grave. WBC does not support the murder of Matthew Shepard: "thou shalt not kill." Unless his killers repent, they will receive the same sentence that Matthew Shepard received - eternal fire. However, the truth about Matthew Shepard needs to be known. He lived a Satanic lifestyle. He got himself killed trolling for anonymous homosexual sex in a bar at midnight. Unless he repented in the final hours of his life (not likely since God had given him up! - Romans 1), He is in hell. He will be in hell for all eternity, "where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." Mark 9:44. For each day that passes, he has only eternity to look forward to. All the candlelight vigils, all the tributes, all the acts of Congress, all the rulings by the Supreme Court of the United States, will not shorten his sentence by so much as one day. And all the riches of the world will not buy him one drop of water to cool his tongue."

02/26/06 It's Time For Another Installment of

2006-02-26T01:36:00.000-08:00

I am becoming more disappointed with the human condition. Instead of trying to live as civilized creatures in a functioning society, it appears more like we’re a bunch of wild animals drunk with stupidity, ready to gnaw the flesh off each other’s bones. (A little mellow dramatic I suppose, but not untrue…)

Sanity and rationality have been replaced with hatred and intolerance. How did we get to here? More importantly, is there a path back? Perhaps it’s time for Mother Nature to press the reset button. Maybe there’s some looming pandemic that might separate the wheat from the chaff, and enable us to carry on in more suitable manner. (So our species can survive…)

For people that are supposed to live in a “Christian” society, (mind you, the definition of the word Christian has become muddy and vague.) it sure seems like we’ve thrown away most of it’s more important directives. The notions of “live and let live”, and “do on to others” have evaporated from the moral lexicon that we’re supposed to share. Here’s a case in point.

There’s this crazy Baptist preacher in Topeka Kansas named Fred Phelps. Now old Fred who was originally from Mississippi is your fairly typical fire and brimstone kinda guy. He definitely fits more into that Southern “old time religion” sort. The problem is, when he gets imbibed on the Holy Spirit and decides to become a champion of values, bad things happen to good people.

Fred has a very nasty hobby… He likes to show up at the funerals of openly gay people and picket them. He and his merry band of retarded bigots protest funerals with no regard for those in mourning. Armed with megaphones and signs they insist on causing further pain and grief to those already dealing with loss.

Imagine this scene. People dressed in black suits, sombre music playing in the background, and the sobs of a mother being drown out by the likes of “Yer gonna burn in hell fag”, and “It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” Or my favorite “AIDS is God’s punishment for fags…” Not a pretty picture is it?

The ironic part is that this kind of nonsense transgresses a fairly hefty amount of Christian teaching. Keep in mind; it’s the same Christian teaching that Phelps is trying to espouse. This is blatant hypocrisy.

Now I’m not a violent man, but if someone did that to my friends or family, I would be beat their ass. I would enjoy it too. No one has the right to interfere in something as solemn and personal as a funeral.

Recently Phelps and company have started in with a new tactic… This time he’s protesting the funerals of fallen soldiers. His rationale is this (And it’s really fucked…) the soldiers dying in Iraq are part of God’s punishment for tolerating homosexuals in America society. He also claims events such as the September 11 attacks and Hurricane Katrina are caused by God because of this hatred.

Fred Phelps is to nature what consuming one's feces might be to a really bad hazing. Gross, anti social, and down right stupid.

If you wanna see for yourself just how evil this prick really is, just take a look at his website.

www.godhatesfags.com

Maybe send him an email and tell him what you think.

Go Finland Go...

2006-02-22T23:27:00.000-08:00

So Canada’s out… Russia got their revenge. That really sucks. Mind you they looked less than inspired. Canada came into the tournament as the team to beat. It was ours to lose. (At least on paper.) It’s funny how “on paper” rarely seems to pan out.

My friend Daniel quite correctly pointed out back in December that they really weren’t a hungry bunch. That struck a nerve. (Daniel is good at that…) I like most Canadians was in a state of denial. Given our dominance in the last two World Competitions, It became an expectation that we’d win.

How could we not win? The talent pool was there. This is a team that was built to win. The level of depth was remarkable. In hindsight the problem is pretty obvious. This team had no heart.

The worst thing is that Hockey is part of our national psyche. It’s one of the few things in this country that revs our patriotism to hysterical levels. These are our warriors, and when they stumble, the entire nation feels it. It may seem trivial to some, but it’s what we’ve got.

This one is going to smart for a while, but there will be another day. 2010 is not that far away. Sidney Crosby and Dion Phaneuf are going to be pretty hungry. We will win again.

Until then… I hope Finland crushes Russia.

Go Canada Go!!!

2006-02-22T00:44:00.000-08:00

Today was a bit of a squeeker. The Czechs put up a good fight. I suspect that tomorrow's clash with Russia is going to be a real nail biter. Russia's got heaps of talent, but we're equal to the challenge... As long as the real team Canada shows up.

I just hope the Americans beat Finland.(Although to me that's a lot like rooting for the fucking Oilers... Better the devil you do know I guess.)

Given the dodgey performances over the past couple of games, I'd rather see Team Canada face anyone else.

Go Canada Go!!!

2006-02-21T00:43:00.000-08:00

It's fun to see when a punk band grows up. This is an excellent sophmore effort. Just buy it.

I'm an Asshole...

2006-02-20T03:32:00.000-08:00

Friday was a bit of a trying day. Due to some annoyingly unforeseen circumstances, I wound up a little short for cash. (Well a lot short of cash…) I won’t get into the gory details, but it put me in a couple of rather embarrassing situations. While temporary, I had forgotten how shitty having no money can be. Hopefully the situation can be resolved shortly.

Normally that sort of thing just slides off me like water off a duck’s back, but this time it grinded out my last nerve. (I’ve never been one to stress about money… This whole thing was totally out of character for me…) I blew my top at an unsuspecting, but rather useless HMV employee. (Again avoiding the really gory, stupid, details…) It was like a fucked up cartoon. I could feel the steam coming out of my ears. At one point I barked out “Get Your Fucking Manager…”

My eyes got wide and insane. The poor clerk actually flinched a little. I had reached that moment where I was so angry that I got silent for what seemed like an eternity… Then KABOOM… From that point a trail of expletives that would make a sailor blush streamed out of my mouth at warp speed. Now I have a reasonable vocabulary, and I’m a comic, so I managed to come up with some really new and immeasurable cusses. No cheap shots about parentage here. Nope not a one… Normally I would be proud of my abilities. This however was not one of those moments. Truthfully not one of my finer moments by any stretch…

I went over the edge. During the awkward silence that followed, I felt free. How odd is that? I felt like I had just liberated myself. Then as quick as the feeling came, it left… It was replaced by the feeling of a gnawing evil.

It was at that moment I realized two things. 1) I’m an asshole. 2) I’m the kind of asshole I hate. I was so fuelled by my own frustrations in that moment, that I totally ignored rationality, and lashed out at the finest help 7 bucks an hour can afford. I’ve never felt like that much of a dick before. (And I’ve done some pretty amazingly dickish things over the years…)

I went back and apologized to the clerk. For as hapless a schmo as he was, he didn’t deserve my ire. The only silver lining here is that I’ve discovered that at least I’m an asshole that can see the error of his ways.

Mind you I have no doubt that on some MSN spaces blog out there the clerk has recounted this story too… I doubt that I’ll look any better in that one either.

Other stuff…

The weekend in general however was pretty good. I managed to reign in my frustration, and actually take it easy. I have even managed to get a fair amount of rest. I guess I needed it too. Somehow I got really wound up, and these past couple of days seem to have helped to alleviate some of the tension I’ve been feeling.

Last week was full of meetings and very early mornings. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not an early riser. Generally I’m pretty cranky in the early morning. (At least until I get the day underway… then I do okay…)

This coming week has some really early days too, but at least there are no heavy duty, uber important meetings that come with it. Those can get a little long in the tooth fast. Hopefully this week will go more smoothly.

Anyway… Time to sleep.