DSC02712
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This was taken for me by a very nice man in a Hell's Angels jacket... Happily he gave me the camera back...
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Howie
DSC02713
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This is another one of my pals in Edmonton. Howie Miller... He's a like a wind up toy... well... Like a wind up toy with a megaphone...
Winston
DSC02714
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This is one of my favourite guys in Edmonton. His name is Winston Herbert... He's a super good dude...
Friday, September 09, 2005
09/09/05 More Stuff About me...
More Stuff About Me.
1) I have a deep-rooted love of Cheez Whiz. I know it’s evil and I don’t care. It’s got a sharpness that I like. I think it’s cause the fine people at Kraft put mustard in it.
2) I have a fixation over roller ball pens. The more fluid the ink, the better I like it.
3) My handwriting is terrible. Oddly though, my printing is fantastic.
4) I can recall the dumbest trivia in the world, but I can never remember my postal code.
5) I love potato chips… Just about any kind too… (With the notable exceptions of lamb in mint sauce flavour and ketchup… Which begs the question… Who the fuck came up with Lamb in mint sauce flavour? Those Brits are a bit wacky sometimes…)
6) I’m a pack rat. I can’t help myself. I come by it honestly though. My Grandmother was a pack rat too.
7) I like boxes. All shapes and sizes…
8) I have a terrible habit of reading too many books at once. Sometimes it gets a little confusing.
9) I am fanatically devoted to hockey, and more so to my team. Go Flames Go!
10) Sometimes when I’m thinking hard about something, I start to hum Christmas carols… I have no idea why…
11) I can be a little vindictive sometimes.
12) I miss my Grandparents a lot. They really helped me a lot. I wish I could have had a chance to repay them for everything.
13) I have a really morbid sense of humour.
14) I truly believe the greatest place on earth is my mother’s hometown. It’s a little fishing village in Newfoundland called Bay Bulls.
15) My Mother makes the best roast chicken in the whole world. It is my most favorite meal ever.
16) I love grape juice. Well anything grape really, like Jelly, soda, etc.
17) I love hot wings. The hotter the better, especially if it makes my sinuses clear.
18) I once managed to get my 9th grade teacher right in the forehead with a hot pink bingo dauber. It was worth the week of detentions.
19) R2D2 is my all time favorite Star Wars character.
1) I have a deep-rooted love of Cheez Whiz. I know it’s evil and I don’t care. It’s got a sharpness that I like. I think it’s cause the fine people at Kraft put mustard in it.
2) I have a fixation over roller ball pens. The more fluid the ink, the better I like it.
3) My handwriting is terrible. Oddly though, my printing is fantastic.
4) I can recall the dumbest trivia in the world, but I can never remember my postal code.
5) I love potato chips… Just about any kind too… (With the notable exceptions of lamb in mint sauce flavour and ketchup… Which begs the question… Who the fuck came up with Lamb in mint sauce flavour? Those Brits are a bit wacky sometimes…)
6) I’m a pack rat. I can’t help myself. I come by it honestly though. My Grandmother was a pack rat too.
7) I like boxes. All shapes and sizes…
8) I have a terrible habit of reading too many books at once. Sometimes it gets a little confusing.
9) I am fanatically devoted to hockey, and more so to my team. Go Flames Go!
10) Sometimes when I’m thinking hard about something, I start to hum Christmas carols… I have no idea why…
11) I can be a little vindictive sometimes.
12) I miss my Grandparents a lot. They really helped me a lot. I wish I could have had a chance to repay them for everything.
13) I have a really morbid sense of humour.
14) I truly believe the greatest place on earth is my mother’s hometown. It’s a little fishing village in Newfoundland called Bay Bulls.
15) My Mother makes the best roast chicken in the whole world. It is my most favorite meal ever.
16) I love grape juice. Well anything grape really, like Jelly, soda, etc.
17) I love hot wings. The hotter the better, especially if it makes my sinuses clear.
18) I once managed to get my 9th grade teacher right in the forehead with a hot pink bingo dauber. It was worth the week of detentions.
19) R2D2 is my all time favorite Star Wars character.
09/09/05
The last few days have felt like an emotional roller coaster. The week started with me feeling pretty shitty. I have needed a change for some time, and this week that desire seemed to be overwhelming. I really felt like a bus had hit me. I had a hard time putting one foot in front of the other. My bones were aching, and I just couldn’t get the fog out of my head. I wasn’t myself at all.
It’s strange to me that when I’m feeling down that all the colours in the world get a drab like tint to them. I know in my head it’s just a perception thing, but it really doesn’t help my headspace in the slightest.
It was as if there was a terrific weight on my shoulders. The more I tried to fight it, the more it pressed down on me. Tuesday and Wednesday were truly hateful. If I had been able to stay in bed and hide under the covers, I would have. At least that way I would have gotten some rest.
Happily, the feeling began to break, and today I feel like my normal old self.
On to other stuff…
I’m heading off to Edmonton to play the weekend there. I’m pretty happy about it too. It’s been too long since the last time I played there. I really like it there. The crowds are usually enthusiastic, and they get good and rowdy… Just the way I like them.
I’ve been plugged into the weekend with Bill McIntosh and Kevin Stobo. I’ve worked with both of those guys a fair amount over the years, and I like them both. It should be a nice weekend in the club.
Anyway I need to sleep…
It’s strange to me that when I’m feeling down that all the colours in the world get a drab like tint to them. I know in my head it’s just a perception thing, but it really doesn’t help my headspace in the slightest.
It was as if there was a terrific weight on my shoulders. The more I tried to fight it, the more it pressed down on me. Tuesday and Wednesday were truly hateful. If I had been able to stay in bed and hide under the covers, I would have. At least that way I would have gotten some rest.
Happily, the feeling began to break, and today I feel like my normal old self.
On to other stuff…
I’m heading off to Edmonton to play the weekend there. I’m pretty happy about it too. It’s been too long since the last time I played there. I really like it there. The crowds are usually enthusiastic, and they get good and rowdy… Just the way I like them.
I’ve been plugged into the weekend with Bill McIntosh and Kevin Stobo. I’ve worked with both of those guys a fair amount over the years, and I like them both. It should be a nice weekend in the club.
Anyway I need to sleep…
Thursday, September 08, 2005
09/09/05 Modern Day Atlantis...
I feel badly for the people of New Orleans. Mother Nature kicked up her heals and left nothing but chaos in her wake. Once a city of historical significance is now a modern day Atlantis, all that remains are the flotsam of human tragedy, and the driftwood of its physical constructs.
I have a difficult time trying to imagine what these people must be going through. I’m sure I would be unable to cope, and I am amazed that people have reacted as well as they have. If it were me, I likely would be confined to a nut house by now.
I have been trying to avoid watching news stories about it. I find it too awful to watch. I made the mistake of flicking on CNN for a little while tonight, and my heart was filled with dread. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
I have a difficult time trying to imagine what these people must be going through. I’m sure I would be unable to cope, and I am amazed that people have reacted as well as they have. If it were me, I likely would be confined to a nut house by now.
I have been trying to avoid watching news stories about it. I find it too awful to watch. I made the mistake of flicking on CNN for a little while tonight, and my heart was filled with dread. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Boy With Grenade
boywithgrenade
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
I find this picture both disturbing and fascinating. There is something about it that I can't put my finger on. Perhaps it's just that it's horrid.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
08/31/05 Just a Good Day...
Today has been a relatively peaceful day so far. There haven't been any fires that have required my attention, and all in all things seem to be all systems go. I'm feeling relaxed. My head is clear of impediment, and I am content. It's a rare moment for me and I am trying not to squander it. Moments of true clarity are scarce and must be cherished. (Unless they happen to someone you don't like… then cruel mockery is the best and only recourse. There's nothing like a good old fashioned chiding to reset someone's emotional compass…)
This morning I had an unusual burst of energy. I got out of bed without the normal nagging insistence of my alarm clock. That hasn't happened for a long time. Usually I slam down on the snooze bar three or four times before my brain will be coaxed into a semi functioning state. It normally takes a longer for motor skills to adjust. I have divested myself of Zombie Marcus today. (Well at least for today…)
The walk to work was breezy with a little nip in the air. I turned the ipod on and happily trundled off, heading first to Bad Ass to get some coffee, and then re-adjusted my route and headed to work. This morning's musical choice was The Clash's London Calling. (Being possibly the greatest record of all time…) It puts the spring in my step easily.
Last night I went to the Ship and Anchor pub. I love it there. It's the best cross section of people this city has to offer, conveniently rolled into a nice and neat little pub. Whether you're a ninja, a mail carrier, a coke mule, a deposed chairman of a former soviet republic, a wannabe rock star or a surgeon, chances are you've gone to the ship more than once. It's a great place to people watch. Which as of late has become my new favourite sport.
I love watching the nonsensical little roads that people wander down after alcohol has been ingested. It amuses me, because I'm the one who paved those roads.
This morning I had an unusual burst of energy. I got out of bed without the normal nagging insistence of my alarm clock. That hasn't happened for a long time. Usually I slam down on the snooze bar three or four times before my brain will be coaxed into a semi functioning state. It normally takes a longer for motor skills to adjust. I have divested myself of Zombie Marcus today. (Well at least for today…)
The walk to work was breezy with a little nip in the air. I turned the ipod on and happily trundled off, heading first to Bad Ass to get some coffee, and then re-adjusted my route and headed to work. This morning's musical choice was The Clash's London Calling. (Being possibly the greatest record of all time…) It puts the spring in my step easily.
Last night I went to the Ship and Anchor pub. I love it there. It's the best cross section of people this city has to offer, conveniently rolled into a nice and neat little pub. Whether you're a ninja, a mail carrier, a coke mule, a deposed chairman of a former soviet republic, a wannabe rock star or a surgeon, chances are you've gone to the ship more than once. It's a great place to people watch. Which as of late has become my new favourite sport.
I love watching the nonsensical little roads that people wander down after alcohol has been ingested. It amuses me, because I'm the one who paved those roads.
Modest Mouse - Good News for People Who Love Bad News
Modest Mouse
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
I love Modest Mouse. I finally broke down and bought this record. It's slicker than anything they have ever done before, but the songs are great.
Fall Out Boy - My Heart Will Always be the B-side to My Tongue
Fall Out Boy
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
Some new music that I've added to the collection. Fall Out Boy is a nice surprise. Not the greatest record in the world, but quite hookey and fun...
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Something that Just Pisses me off...
I just went to read my friend Brett's blog, and it had been bombarded with spam posts... (thebrettmartin.blogspot.com)
Why is it that whenever someone comes up with something fun and innovative like email, or blogging, there is always some evil shithead that insists on smearing their advertising feces all over it. Can't something every once in a while be left alone? Does business really need to tip it's ugly hand here? Can't the general public have the odd thing left untainted? It never ends...
Someone did that to me last week and I felt violated. I wasn't asked, it was just thrust upon me. My thoughts and ideas were tainted by someone else's greed. Besmirched by some investing portfolio schmuck. Damn, I really want these people to fuck off. Everytime I get spam, or have some craphead post on here, or have a chat room invaded by porn bot, it churns my stomach. The people responsible for this crap need to be hunted like dogs and locked up in camp x-ray. (perhaps this is a bit much... but i have such a crippling hate for this shit...)
Don't get me wrong, I love to get responses from friends, colleagues and people foolish enough to read my blather... But at no point will I ever be comfortable with people sleazing their crap on my blog.
Why is it that whenever someone comes up with something fun and innovative like email, or blogging, there is always some evil shithead that insists on smearing their advertising feces all over it. Can't something every once in a while be left alone? Does business really need to tip it's ugly hand here? Can't the general public have the odd thing left untainted? It never ends...
Someone did that to me last week and I felt violated. I wasn't asked, it was just thrust upon me. My thoughts and ideas were tainted by someone else's greed. Besmirched by some investing portfolio schmuck. Damn, I really want these people to fuck off. Everytime I get spam, or have some craphead post on here, or have a chat room invaded by porn bot, it churns my stomach. The people responsible for this crap need to be hunted like dogs and locked up in camp x-ray. (perhaps this is a bit much... but i have such a crippling hate for this shit...)
Don't get me wrong, I love to get responses from friends, colleagues and people foolish enough to read my blather... But at no point will I ever be comfortable with people sleazing their crap on my blog.
08/29/05
Just as it started to get dark tonight, I went outside to have a cigarette. It was a nice night. The air was cool; giving off the impression that fall is just a stones throw away. It had rained briefly, and the air was fresher than is has been for several days.
The rain had done an excellent job of washing away the usually pervasive stink of car exhaust, and had given the streets a gleam, as though someone had spilled gloss all over the place. The sky was starting to morph into an inky blue, but still had a little reddish flare. It was wonderful. It’s moments like those that remind me why I still live in the west.
The streetlights had just begun to flicker on. I could hear them crackle and hum. They remind of a surly old man that has been woken abruptly, still sputtering and grasping at the reality of being alert. 60 cycles of constant rhythm, washing into what I find to be a comforting sound. It has this droning warmth to it, and gives me the same satisfaction that the fridge does when starts it’s ritual buzzing in the middle of the night.
Then something curious began. Just as I had lit my cigarette, I heard a caw, and then another, and another. The noises got louder. I looked up to see the biggest murder of crows I have ever seen. There were hundreds of them. They flew from building to building, taking the time to perch only for a second, then off to the next structure. They were restless, and soon started circling just above the power lines at the intersection.
It was like watching the beginning of a tornado. They created this vortex, spinning round and round, with every turn, more and more crows joining in. The intersection became a whirl of streaming black. It was glorious. I can’t remember a moment that compares to this. It was a strange and powerful event. For a just a second, I began to imagine that this might be the kind of moment where Edgar Allen Poe found inspiration. It had a sense of brooding drama, and seemed to be a gothic, and macabre painting that had come to life.
Then the birds whipped out of their twisting frenzy, and flew in an impressively tight formation towards the McDougal centre and ultimately finding sanctuary on its roof. It got quiet as quickly as it had been chaotic.
I must admit, I have always found crows to be fascinating creatures. They seem to move with purpose, and have a poise that birds shouldn’t have. For some reason, which is unknown to me, I have begun to think of them as wise, and I have implicated a sense of intelligence on them. They strike me as not the sort of common rabble that magpies and Pigeons are. They have a dignity and I find that curious.
On to other things…
Today was a productive day. I manage to accomplish a host of things that I had been tangled up in for too long. I am feeling less restless now. The summer doldrums have faded for now, and I am excited as we enter the fall. I feel as if there is much to do, and I am a man ready to roll up his sleeves and go headlong into the breach. The fall always has a sense of renewal for me. Perhaps it’s because as a kid, school always started in the fall, or because I feel more productive at this time of year. Regardless, I enjoy it, much the way I enjoy visits from old friends.
September bodes well for my chosen profession. It looks to be reasonably busy. I have a few kinks to work out in the act, and now realize its time to bring some new ideas to the stage. Overall it functions well, but I find I am straying further and further away from concrete material in favour of playing with ideas. What used to be awkward for me is now something that I am beginning to relish.
Now I must sleep.
The rain had done an excellent job of washing away the usually pervasive stink of car exhaust, and had given the streets a gleam, as though someone had spilled gloss all over the place. The sky was starting to morph into an inky blue, but still had a little reddish flare. It was wonderful. It’s moments like those that remind me why I still live in the west.
The streetlights had just begun to flicker on. I could hear them crackle and hum. They remind of a surly old man that has been woken abruptly, still sputtering and grasping at the reality of being alert. 60 cycles of constant rhythm, washing into what I find to be a comforting sound. It has this droning warmth to it, and gives me the same satisfaction that the fridge does when starts it’s ritual buzzing in the middle of the night.
Then something curious began. Just as I had lit my cigarette, I heard a caw, and then another, and another. The noises got louder. I looked up to see the biggest murder of crows I have ever seen. There were hundreds of them. They flew from building to building, taking the time to perch only for a second, then off to the next structure. They were restless, and soon started circling just above the power lines at the intersection.
It was like watching the beginning of a tornado. They created this vortex, spinning round and round, with every turn, more and more crows joining in. The intersection became a whirl of streaming black. It was glorious. I can’t remember a moment that compares to this. It was a strange and powerful event. For a just a second, I began to imagine that this might be the kind of moment where Edgar Allen Poe found inspiration. It had a sense of brooding drama, and seemed to be a gothic, and macabre painting that had come to life.
Then the birds whipped out of their twisting frenzy, and flew in an impressively tight formation towards the McDougal centre and ultimately finding sanctuary on its roof. It got quiet as quickly as it had been chaotic.
I must admit, I have always found crows to be fascinating creatures. They seem to move with purpose, and have a poise that birds shouldn’t have. For some reason, which is unknown to me, I have begun to think of them as wise, and I have implicated a sense of intelligence on them. They strike me as not the sort of common rabble that magpies and Pigeons are. They have a dignity and I find that curious.
On to other things…
Today was a productive day. I manage to accomplish a host of things that I had been tangled up in for too long. I am feeling less restless now. The summer doldrums have faded for now, and I am excited as we enter the fall. I feel as if there is much to do, and I am a man ready to roll up his sleeves and go headlong into the breach. The fall always has a sense of renewal for me. Perhaps it’s because as a kid, school always started in the fall, or because I feel more productive at this time of year. Regardless, I enjoy it, much the way I enjoy visits from old friends.
September bodes well for my chosen profession. It looks to be reasonably busy. I have a few kinks to work out in the act, and now realize its time to bring some new ideas to the stage. Overall it functions well, but I find I am straying further and further away from concrete material in favour of playing with ideas. What used to be awkward for me is now something that I am beginning to relish.
Now I must sleep.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
08/27/05 Sometimes change is good...
After a year of using the same template for the blog, I decided it was time for something different. Just black... simply and clean looking.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Marcus head shot 1
Marcushs3
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This is the first of three new headshots that I will be using...
08/26/05 Tubby Dog Rocks...
I have seen the future of fast food and it is Tubby Dog. Quite possible the finest hot dogs ever made by anyone ever. That statement may seem to be full of hyperbole, but just wait until you have one. Grilled to perfection, and then slathered with cheese, chili and a host of other wonderful condiments. It is nothing short of stupendous. There is no better street meat to be found anywhere.
Just to make it an event. You should take a peddle cab to Tubby Dog. It makes it that much more of an adventure.
Just to make it an event. You should take a peddle cab to Tubby Dog. It makes it that much more of an adventure.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
08/25/05 Part of the Process...
I asked the question “How did I become so jaded?” in the last post. I‘ve started thinking about it a little more, and here’s what I’ve come up with so far.
1). My first marriage (well not that you could really call it that… more like “that month of stupidity”…) really left a bigger dent in my soul than I had initially thought. It took a long time to forgive myself for being suckered into that.
To this day, I’m not sure what possessed me to run with that ball, especially given the less than charming temperament my ex was blessed with. She could have given Pol Pot a run for his money. Actually he probably would have cowered in fear in her presence. Think about the Emperor from Star Wars, and then remove warmth and any sense of humanity.
Hindsight being 20/20, it would have been more worthwhile to put my head in a vice and just start turning the bar until my eyes popped out. I could have given myself a little reassuring brain damage, and it would have been a lot cheaper.
That whole damn circus left some overt scars, and regrettably in turn, I left a trail of unhappy people in my wake. One day I’ll get the chance to apologize to the souls that I punished for my own misery, for my own piece of mind if for no other reason. Only in the last few years has that “scab” finally healed over.
2) Somewhere in my mid 20’s I wound up running with a group of really negative people. They were true champions of the bored and disaffected. (But the worst kind… The type that thinks they are the embodiment of the progressive and hip. A little too cool for school, or the “tragically hip” if you will… At the time, I lacked the will to see past them, and I think this cost me dearly.
Happily they moved on after I proved to be too set in my own ways.) Unfortunately before I bored them to tears, I let these people have an influence on the events in my life. They tried to dictate what I should wear, who I should date etc… In retrospect I think it’s a little funny that I got run over by an alpha male “art fag.”(That’s probably the first time those words were associated with each other ever…) From that point on I decided never to be someone’s “project” again.
It took a while to find myself. Stand up proved to be the tool that I needed to massage my confidence, and along the way I was able to sincerely shape my own true identity. My own force of will has set the tone for the things to come, and I must say I really like that.
3) Frustrations with the political climate of my environment have played their part too. My beliefs on what I consider to be right generally don’t jive with the people that surround me. Perhaps it’s my own naiveté, but it has driven me crazy.
4) The amount of time it took me to get my comedy career on track really fucked with my head, it was a frustrating experience to watch my friends succeed ahead of me, esp. since I never got feedback from anyone as to why I was being held back. I felt like running towards a brick wall head first, and at terminal velocity. It took me a while to realize that this business isn’t a race, and that hard work does pay off. These days things are working out well, and I’m doing great.
Perhaps I just needed a little more time on the farm team. Whatever it was, somewhere along the way things began to fall into place.
Anyway… there is definitely more to come…
1). My first marriage (well not that you could really call it that… more like “that month of stupidity”…) really left a bigger dent in my soul than I had initially thought. It took a long time to forgive myself for being suckered into that.
To this day, I’m not sure what possessed me to run with that ball, especially given the less than charming temperament my ex was blessed with. She could have given Pol Pot a run for his money. Actually he probably would have cowered in fear in her presence. Think about the Emperor from Star Wars, and then remove warmth and any sense of humanity.
Hindsight being 20/20, it would have been more worthwhile to put my head in a vice and just start turning the bar until my eyes popped out. I could have given myself a little reassuring brain damage, and it would have been a lot cheaper.
That whole damn circus left some overt scars, and regrettably in turn, I left a trail of unhappy people in my wake. One day I’ll get the chance to apologize to the souls that I punished for my own misery, for my own piece of mind if for no other reason. Only in the last few years has that “scab” finally healed over.
2) Somewhere in my mid 20’s I wound up running with a group of really negative people. They were true champions of the bored and disaffected. (But the worst kind… The type that thinks they are the embodiment of the progressive and hip. A little too cool for school, or the “tragically hip” if you will… At the time, I lacked the will to see past them, and I think this cost me dearly.
Happily they moved on after I proved to be too set in my own ways.) Unfortunately before I bored them to tears, I let these people have an influence on the events in my life. They tried to dictate what I should wear, who I should date etc… In retrospect I think it’s a little funny that I got run over by an alpha male “art fag.”(That’s probably the first time those words were associated with each other ever…) From that point on I decided never to be someone’s “project” again.
It took a while to find myself. Stand up proved to be the tool that I needed to massage my confidence, and along the way I was able to sincerely shape my own true identity. My own force of will has set the tone for the things to come, and I must say I really like that.
3) Frustrations with the political climate of my environment have played their part too. My beliefs on what I consider to be right generally don’t jive with the people that surround me. Perhaps it’s my own naiveté, but it has driven me crazy.
4) The amount of time it took me to get my comedy career on track really fucked with my head, it was a frustrating experience to watch my friends succeed ahead of me, esp. since I never got feedback from anyone as to why I was being held back. I felt like running towards a brick wall head first, and at terminal velocity. It took me a while to realize that this business isn’t a race, and that hard work does pay off. These days things are working out well, and I’m doing great.
Perhaps I just needed a little more time on the farm team. Whatever it was, somewhere along the way things began to fall into place.
Anyway… there is definitely more to come…
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
08/24/05 Back into the light...
I like taking little vacations from writing this blog. They help bring me a fresh perspective to the things that I normally rant and rage about. Lately the vacations have been more frequent, mostly because I am trying to excise some stale ways of thinking.
There are only so many ways to either praise or in my case usually demonize the things that affect you. Sometimes it can cloud your judgement, and you wind up writing in circles. It becomes a really difficult task to try and not rehash the same old crap over and over again.
Someone asked me the other day how I felt. For the first time in a long time it was instinctual to reply “Good.” It’s true. I feel good. I have escaped what had become a bit of a brain cloud. Historically speaking, it was normal for me to be critical about whatever was in my face at the moment. Which raises a really good question, how did I get to be so jaded?
I have been thinking a lot about how I might even begin to try and answer this. Over the next few weeks, I intend to elaborate further. Perhaps at the end I will become a cleric, or a madman, or more likely a combination of the two. Either way, stay tuned.
There are only so many ways to either praise or in my case usually demonize the things that affect you. Sometimes it can cloud your judgement, and you wind up writing in circles. It becomes a really difficult task to try and not rehash the same old crap over and over again.
Someone asked me the other day how I felt. For the first time in a long time it was instinctual to reply “Good.” It’s true. I feel good. I have escaped what had become a bit of a brain cloud. Historically speaking, it was normal for me to be critical about whatever was in my face at the moment. Which raises a really good question, how did I get to be so jaded?
I have been thinking a lot about how I might even begin to try and answer this. Over the next few weeks, I intend to elaborate further. Perhaps at the end I will become a cleric, or a madman, or more likely a combination of the two. Either way, stay tuned.
Friday, August 19, 2005
disney_war
disney_war
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This picture made me laugh. It's funny cause it's true.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
08/13/05 If Only James Taylor had an Eye Patch...
I spent part of Friday night alone, trying to bang out a new post. I went to the Planet Café figuring that perhaps it might lend me some encouragement. Sometimes I need a little push, and a different locale helps. Nothing like different stimuli to get the creative juices flowing. (And the coffee’s damn good too…)
Usually it’s quiet there. It’s the kind of place where urban hipsters flake out and load up on as much caffeine as I can handle in the run of a week. The staff there tends to be somewhat funkier than what a Starbucks would normally condone. Usually adorned with dreadlocks, and some sort of “Smash the State” kind of t-shirt, but always pleasant nonetheless. In a nutshell, these are my kind of people.
Normally I feel at home here, but much to my immediate horror, they had James Taylor blaring on the stereo. (Well as much as anyone can blare James Taylor…) For the record I hate his music. It’s soooo fucking weepy. It sort of sounds like a hound dog baying at the moon, only maybe like 30 percent more boring.
I feel about James Taylor much the way I feel about Pink Floyd. BORING… Hopelessly fucking boring, and totally self-indulgent. (I realize I have committed an act of sacrilege, but I don’t care… Both are less interesting than watching paint dry.)
I remember watching Pink Floyd’s Live at Pompeii, and thinking John Lennon’s dead, and these useless twits get to live. Life really isn’t fair is it? Perhaps Mark Chapman should have re evaluated his target. (Never trust a Presbyterian to do a man’s job…)
(About here is the point where a co-worker might say something like “Geez Marcus, Tell us how you really fell…)
Anyway, on to something else…
I’m going to do a few guest spots at the club tomorrow night. Truthfully I really need to do them anyway or my head might explode from boredom. I can’t remember the last time I was this bored. I really need something to occupy my time. Yesterday there was a moment when I truly contemplated driving a screwdriver into one of my eyes. I’m pretty sure that’s not good. I believe my optometrist would likely frown on the concept in its entirety. Although I do have a strange fondness a good eye patch.
I really haven’t felt like writing too much either. I just don’t seem to have the motivation for it. Perhaps I have finally slipped into a near vegetative state. Whatever it is, I feel like I’ve committed a crime against myself. The id and ego are both asleep and the soma has been towed to the impound lot, and It seems I have no idea where that might be.
One last thing...
I had to remove the comments from the foo fighters picture post, because some shithead decided to post some crappy advertising. I have a little message directed solely at the fiend. You have defaced my personal little space on the web, and you really need to fuck off. At no point have I ever fucked with your shit. Stay away you are not wanted here.
That's all... More to come later!!!
Usually it’s quiet there. It’s the kind of place where urban hipsters flake out and load up on as much caffeine as I can handle in the run of a week. The staff there tends to be somewhat funkier than what a Starbucks would normally condone. Usually adorned with dreadlocks, and some sort of “Smash the State” kind of t-shirt, but always pleasant nonetheless. In a nutshell, these are my kind of people.
Normally I feel at home here, but much to my immediate horror, they had James Taylor blaring on the stereo. (Well as much as anyone can blare James Taylor…) For the record I hate his music. It’s soooo fucking weepy. It sort of sounds like a hound dog baying at the moon, only maybe like 30 percent more boring.
I feel about James Taylor much the way I feel about Pink Floyd. BORING… Hopelessly fucking boring, and totally self-indulgent. (I realize I have committed an act of sacrilege, but I don’t care… Both are less interesting than watching paint dry.)
I remember watching Pink Floyd’s Live at Pompeii, and thinking John Lennon’s dead, and these useless twits get to live. Life really isn’t fair is it? Perhaps Mark Chapman should have re evaluated his target. (Never trust a Presbyterian to do a man’s job…)
(About here is the point where a co-worker might say something like “Geez Marcus, Tell us how you really fell…)
Anyway, on to something else…
I’m going to do a few guest spots at the club tomorrow night. Truthfully I really need to do them anyway or my head might explode from boredom. I can’t remember the last time I was this bored. I really need something to occupy my time. Yesterday there was a moment when I truly contemplated driving a screwdriver into one of my eyes. I’m pretty sure that’s not good. I believe my optometrist would likely frown on the concept in its entirety. Although I do have a strange fondness a good eye patch.
I really haven’t felt like writing too much either. I just don’t seem to have the motivation for it. Perhaps I have finally slipped into a near vegetative state. Whatever it is, I feel like I’ve committed a crime against myself. The id and ego are both asleep and the soma has been towed to the impound lot, and It seems I have no idea where that might be.
One last thing...
I had to remove the comments from the foo fighters picture post, because some shithead decided to post some crappy advertising. I have a little message directed solely at the fiend. You have defaced my personal little space on the web, and you really need to fuck off. At no point have I ever fucked with your shit. Stay away you are not wanted here.
That's all... More to come later!!!
Thursday, August 11, 2005
marcus4
marcus4
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This is a new graphing that I'm playing with. I think it's pretty cool, and will look smashing on the website that I'm working on.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Foo Fighters
My review of the show is as follows...
The Foo Fighters are superheros. I have seen no better band in my life. Dave Grohl rocks your lame ass...
Monday, August 08, 2005
08/08/05 Raining in My Neighbourhood
It's raining again. This summer has been so wet. I have been not so secretly building an ark in the living room. Erin didn't really like the idea of collecting the animals two by two... apparently we are just going to get a dog to bring.
neighbourhood1
neighbourhood1
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This building is across the street from where I live. It's chock full of skids. The majority of the noise in my neighbourhood comes from the skirmishes in this place. (No matter what time of day...) There are nights when I truly wish that I had a flame thrower... or a bunch of leg hold traps... or a rocket launcher... so i could really give them a piece of my mind.
08/08/05 Pat McCormick is a Douche Bag
I haven’t exactly got the patience of a saint. (There’s not much that’s saintly about me… at all in fact…) I have a lot of Irish blood in me, and sadly the stereotypical temper comes with it. (Don’t get me wrong… I live a happy, peace filled life.) Over the years, I have managed to channel that temper in different ways.
Long gone are the days being ready to “go” when the likes of Pat McCormick (High School Bully and local douche bag…) go up in my face. (Even though he was a stupid, evil fucker, I never did wind up having to fight him, but I always wished that he would get the shit beating of a lifetime. I expect that given his cockish ways, it probably happened… and hopefully more than once. Hopefully more like a baker’s dozen…)
Perhaps being a comic has taught me that there are more than a few ways in which to express displeasure at someone else’s bullshit. I used to be quick to get hot about things, and now I find that stone cold, emotionally rational interaction works with incredible results. Cruel mocking is fun too, but I find that can just egg them on, and rarely can any good come from that.
That is unless someone is being a child. The more childish the behaviour, the harder it becomes for me not to lash out. Currently I have the miss fortune of dealing with an adult who would be better off in diapers. (And given that he is full of shit, I suspect they would be useful sooner or later…) It takes all my patience not to say the wrong thing. (Although truthfully, it would probably do that person some serious good… But it would also make things awkward for me in other areas of my life, and I just don’t need that right now.)
I think it’s pathetically sad when someone becomes so self indulgent in their own sense of self-steeping pity, that it becomes impossible to deal with them. On more than one occasion I have wanted to crawl through the Internet and throttle this person.
Trying to get a straight answer out of this person is like pulling out fingernails. Honestly though, I just want to smack him. I figure one good crack should do the trick. Well It won’t correct the situation, but at least I’d feel better for a little while. The smirk it would give me would be worth it.
Anyway…
Tonight is going to be Awesome. Brett, Nate and I are going to see the Foo Fighters. I’m really excited about it. I have needed a good rocker of a night for sometime. (One of those nights where the amps are cranked to 11…)
The weekend was good. On Friday, Erin and I went to a family function. It was fun; we roasted hotdogs, and flaked out in front of a roaring fire. It was a nice relaxing time. I like her family, they are well connected to one another, and that’s something I’ve missed since I left home. (Not that my family isn’t close, just spread all over the country.)
Saturday, Brett and I went to the football game. Calgary vs. Winnipeg. It was a kick ass way to spend the afternoon. Later we went to Yuks, Brett had a few spots, and I went along for amoral support. We wound up staying late after the show.
We sat there, being plied with booze, laughing and having a good catch up session. Derek Edwards was in town, and it was a pleasure to hang out with him. I haven’t seen him in a while, and I was surprised at how interested he actually was in my progress in the fucked up world of stand up.
Somewhere along the way Freddie pulled out a video camera, and the drunken stupor got recorded for posterity. I wonder what that will look like in ten years from now.
More to come…
Long gone are the days being ready to “go” when the likes of Pat McCormick (High School Bully and local douche bag…) go up in my face. (Even though he was a stupid, evil fucker, I never did wind up having to fight him, but I always wished that he would get the shit beating of a lifetime. I expect that given his cockish ways, it probably happened… and hopefully more than once. Hopefully more like a baker’s dozen…)
Perhaps being a comic has taught me that there are more than a few ways in which to express displeasure at someone else’s bullshit. I used to be quick to get hot about things, and now I find that stone cold, emotionally rational interaction works with incredible results. Cruel mocking is fun too, but I find that can just egg them on, and rarely can any good come from that.
That is unless someone is being a child. The more childish the behaviour, the harder it becomes for me not to lash out. Currently I have the miss fortune of dealing with an adult who would be better off in diapers. (And given that he is full of shit, I suspect they would be useful sooner or later…) It takes all my patience not to say the wrong thing. (Although truthfully, it would probably do that person some serious good… But it would also make things awkward for me in other areas of my life, and I just don’t need that right now.)
I think it’s pathetically sad when someone becomes so self indulgent in their own sense of self-steeping pity, that it becomes impossible to deal with them. On more than one occasion I have wanted to crawl through the Internet and throttle this person.
Trying to get a straight answer out of this person is like pulling out fingernails. Honestly though, I just want to smack him. I figure one good crack should do the trick. Well It won’t correct the situation, but at least I’d feel better for a little while. The smirk it would give me would be worth it.
Anyway…
Tonight is going to be Awesome. Brett, Nate and I are going to see the Foo Fighters. I’m really excited about it. I have needed a good rocker of a night for sometime. (One of those nights where the amps are cranked to 11…)
The weekend was good. On Friday, Erin and I went to a family function. It was fun; we roasted hotdogs, and flaked out in front of a roaring fire. It was a nice relaxing time. I like her family, they are well connected to one another, and that’s something I’ve missed since I left home. (Not that my family isn’t close, just spread all over the country.)
Saturday, Brett and I went to the football game. Calgary vs. Winnipeg. It was a kick ass way to spend the afternoon. Later we went to Yuks, Brett had a few spots, and I went along for amoral support. We wound up staying late after the show.
We sat there, being plied with booze, laughing and having a good catch up session. Derek Edwards was in town, and it was a pleasure to hang out with him. I haven’t seen him in a while, and I was surprised at how interested he actually was in my progress in the fucked up world of stand up.
Somewhere along the way Freddie pulled out a video camera, and the drunken stupor got recorded for posterity. I wonder what that will look like in ten years from now.
More to come…
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Friday, August 05, 2005
08/05/05 Just a little update...
I did some time at Yuks on Wednesday. It was really fun. I have changed my pacing on stage. It’s a little slower than it used to be, and a little more subdued. It seems to fit better with my personality, and is a little closer to who I am trying to present on stage. It almost feels like a well-tailored suit, fitting properly in all the right places. This is the first suit that actually makes this man, and I really like it.
The set went well. It was one of those moments when my actions played out in slow motion. Everything seemed to get blurry. It was very much like the precious few seconds before impact in a traffic accident. (Minus the bone shattering collision…) My level of control has changed too; I am more able to whip an audience into shape without using obvious techniques.
Stand up has become more of what I wanted it to be, an exercise in freedom. I am getting more and more comfortable with straying away from material and expanding on ideas without being anchored to the original joke. I like that,
Other stuff…
Brett has been in town for the last few days. I am enjoying seeing my old friend. He is more grounded than I have ever seen him be. He has started to weave the questions he has about the universe into his act. He has found patience on stage, and that is refreshing,
Tomorrow we are going to the football game. I haven’t been to one in a long time. He and I have the same unhealthy love of sports; although he is certainly better a rattling off stats than I will ever be. The impending return of hockey has made both of us into junkies, inhaling the daily trade reports as if they were the wisps of some sweet narcotic smoke. (Imagine the Saddle dome as an opium den for 19,000) I can’t wait for the first puck to drop. I need my fix.
More to come…
The set went well. It was one of those moments when my actions played out in slow motion. Everything seemed to get blurry. It was very much like the precious few seconds before impact in a traffic accident. (Minus the bone shattering collision…) My level of control has changed too; I am more able to whip an audience into shape without using obvious techniques.
Stand up has become more of what I wanted it to be, an exercise in freedom. I am getting more and more comfortable with straying away from material and expanding on ideas without being anchored to the original joke. I like that,
Other stuff…
Brett has been in town for the last few days. I am enjoying seeing my old friend. He is more grounded than I have ever seen him be. He has started to weave the questions he has about the universe into his act. He has found patience on stage, and that is refreshing,
Tomorrow we are going to the football game. I haven’t been to one in a long time. He and I have the same unhealthy love of sports; although he is certainly better a rattling off stats than I will ever be. The impending return of hockey has made both of us into junkies, inhaling the daily trade reports as if they were the wisps of some sweet narcotic smoke. (Imagine the Saddle dome as an opium den for 19,000) I can’t wait for the first puck to drop. I need my fix.
More to come…
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Bob Mould - Body Of Song
Bob Mould - Body Of Song
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
Okay... I've been a Bob Mould fan for as long as I can remember. I have waited for a long time for this record.
So far after 3 spins, I'd have to rate this album an 8 out of 10.
It's quite a solid effort, but there are a couple of stinkers on here. Sadly they suffer for exactly the same reason.
For a logic that is lost on me, Mould seems to insist on playing with one of those damn Vocorders. (See Cher's Believe...)
That being said other than (Shine Your) Light Love Hope, and I Am Vision, I Am Sound, this record rocks.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
07/28/05
Have you ever felt like you are living in some sort of “Groundhog Day” world, where things keep repeating over and over again? I have begun to feel like I’m just doing the same shit day in and day out. It’s as if I’m just running in a giant hamster wheel. I need to change something. I’m not sure what yet, but I’m sure I’ll yell something like “Gadzooks” or “Eureka” once I’ve figured it out.
I spent most of yesterday recovering from the side effects of Novocain. I hate that shit. It makes me so woozy. (The upside is, the root canal is finally finished. They filled the tooth…) the last time I had Novocain; I fell down a flight of stairs afterwards. (I think the worst part is seeing the ground rush up to meet you in slow motion…) Happily I didn’t feel it, at least until later, and then for my troubles, I received quite the bruise.
My jaw still hurts. I swear I’ve hurt less after a fistfight than after a trip to the dentist. I’m starting to think that in the event of my most likely “untimely” demise, perhaps professionals in the dental industry should be questioned first.
I tend to think of dentists as being supremely confident people. You’d have to be. Given that your job is to inflict pain on everyone who walks through the door, and still manage to carry on with pleasant small talk. I’m not sure I’d be able to do that. Mind you, I guess that would depend on if I liked the person or not…
But I digress…
I had what you might call a happy accident yesterday. I ran into Freddy and Rob Hawkes. I wound up having lunch with them. It was a nice surprise. I got to hear about their adventures at the Montreal Festival. Rob met one of my comedic hero’s, Eddie Izzard. I have to admit, I was more than a little jealous when I heard that. I can’t wait till I go to the festival. I’m really hoping that I can get it sorted for the near (ish) future. (It’s a fair amount of work to get there, so keep your fingers crossed, and I’ll get stabbing away at it.)
I think we may have decided to start writing together. That has all the hallmarks of being a really good thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good writing group. It’s amazing how much more quickly you can bring things to the stage when you have some people you can bounce stuff off of. It becomes a little easier to refine jokes and separate the gold from the cannon fodder. I’ve tried writing with some of the newer guys, but they still have their comedy water wings on, and I find it less productive. (Although this just may be a perception issue on my part.)
I guess once you’ve found a groove, it’s hard to get comfortable elsewhere. Brett, Pete, Shane and myself all started at roughly the same time. We had each other, and despite our occasional bickering, we got funny together. It was always easy to write with those guys. We understood each other, and knew the mechanics of everyone’s act. Since we’ve all been scattered to the winds, it’s been hard to strike up a new group.
I think that Freddy and Rob will be a good fit. We have been around each other for years, and I know I’m comfortable enough to work with them. More importantly I like them as people, and that always helps.
Perhaps it boils down to this. I feel like the “middle child” in the comedy scene. This may partially be accounted for by the absence of my immediate peer group. Additionally, The guys who came before me, while still good friends, have their own things going on, and the guys who came after me are still at a level where self-indulgence is the principal writing motivation.
I feel like there’s an avalanche about to happen. I have scores of new ideas that I’ve been farting around with. It will be nice to iron them out, and retire some older material. This business should be about the constant evolution of material, (which is not often the case… And I’m as guilty as the next comic…)
Anyway, enough for now…
I spent most of yesterday recovering from the side effects of Novocain. I hate that shit. It makes me so woozy. (The upside is, the root canal is finally finished. They filled the tooth…) the last time I had Novocain; I fell down a flight of stairs afterwards. (I think the worst part is seeing the ground rush up to meet you in slow motion…) Happily I didn’t feel it, at least until later, and then for my troubles, I received quite the bruise.
My jaw still hurts. I swear I’ve hurt less after a fistfight than after a trip to the dentist. I’m starting to think that in the event of my most likely “untimely” demise, perhaps professionals in the dental industry should be questioned first.
I tend to think of dentists as being supremely confident people. You’d have to be. Given that your job is to inflict pain on everyone who walks through the door, and still manage to carry on with pleasant small talk. I’m not sure I’d be able to do that. Mind you, I guess that would depend on if I liked the person or not…
But I digress…
I had what you might call a happy accident yesterday. I ran into Freddy and Rob Hawkes. I wound up having lunch with them. It was a nice surprise. I got to hear about their adventures at the Montreal Festival. Rob met one of my comedic hero’s, Eddie Izzard. I have to admit, I was more than a little jealous when I heard that. I can’t wait till I go to the festival. I’m really hoping that I can get it sorted for the near (ish) future. (It’s a fair amount of work to get there, so keep your fingers crossed, and I’ll get stabbing away at it.)
I think we may have decided to start writing together. That has all the hallmarks of being a really good thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good writing group. It’s amazing how much more quickly you can bring things to the stage when you have some people you can bounce stuff off of. It becomes a little easier to refine jokes and separate the gold from the cannon fodder. I’ve tried writing with some of the newer guys, but they still have their comedy water wings on, and I find it less productive. (Although this just may be a perception issue on my part.)
I guess once you’ve found a groove, it’s hard to get comfortable elsewhere. Brett, Pete, Shane and myself all started at roughly the same time. We had each other, and despite our occasional bickering, we got funny together. It was always easy to write with those guys. We understood each other, and knew the mechanics of everyone’s act. Since we’ve all been scattered to the winds, it’s been hard to strike up a new group.
I think that Freddy and Rob will be a good fit. We have been around each other for years, and I know I’m comfortable enough to work with them. More importantly I like them as people, and that always helps.
Perhaps it boils down to this. I feel like the “middle child” in the comedy scene. This may partially be accounted for by the absence of my immediate peer group. Additionally, The guys who came before me, while still good friends, have their own things going on, and the guys who came after me are still at a level where self-indulgence is the principal writing motivation.
I feel like there’s an avalanche about to happen. I have scores of new ideas that I’ve been farting around with. It will be nice to iron them out, and retire some older material. This business should be about the constant evolution of material, (which is not often the case… And I’m as guilty as the next comic…)
Anyway, enough for now…
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
07/26/05 Ketchup Sammichs
I had this very funny dream last night. President Bush was sitting in the oval office, wearing a black leather jacket, and pretending to be the “Fonz.” (I have thought for some time that he kind of looks like a Fonzie… A Fonzie in serious need of a good poop, but a Fonzie nonetheless…) Then he got messed up on meth amphetamines and started calling Condi Rice his favourite “Negro.” Condi got all flushed, they started making out, and then it got more graphic from there. Laura Bush came in dressed in a “Springer & Hannity in 08” t-shirt. She was holding a big plate of home made cookies. She wasn’t shocked by her husband’s behaviour. In fact she just started to laugh and then said “Oh George…”
Now… I have strange dreams all the time. Usually though, I’m on safari, or scoring the winning overtime goal for the Flames, or doing something incredible. Never do I dream about this kind of psychobabble nonsense. I must have eaten something odd last night. I wish I were kidding around about this dream. It actually bothered me. (Mind you, I suspect that any dream where President Bush is a principle character would be bothersome to most.)
I have been trying to ignore American politics in this for the past little while. (With the exception of the last post… But Rove just pissed me off.) Lately I seem to be drawn to it again. I guess I’m just bored and the magnetic pull of that circus of chaos is too much for me to resist. In my mind I compare it to the magnetic pull of Woolco. (In a time before Wal-Mart sullied the Canadian landscape.)
To explain, when I was a teenager, and started hanging out at the mall, (The Avalon Mall in St. John’s) one of the anchor stores was Woolco. It didn’t seem to matter where you started in the mall, sooner or later you’d inexplicably wind up in the centre of Woolco, usually with a confused look on your face. The only thought being “How the fuck did I get here…” Then you’d go the “Red Grill” for a plate of fries and gravy. There would be a few other people that got caught in the whirling retailer vortex, scratching their heads and trying to enjoy some sort of greasy treat.
That must be it. American politics is like a greasy treat. It’s fast, easily accessible, and really, really bad for you. It makes perfect sense. To take it one step further, it is just as unsatisfying in the long run.
I visited Micah Wright’s website yesterday. For those of you who don’t know who he is, Micah is an artist, and has been running the “Propaganda Remix Project.” He takes Second World War and Cold War posters, and puts a new spin on them for the time that we live in. He has a good sense of humour and has used his conscience to make a statement. Anyway, he posts the hate mail that he gets, and some of it is really awful.
You’ll really be floored by the level of ignorance that these people spew. He regularly gets called things like a communist, a traitor, a faggot, and the list goes on and on. The usual “Archie Bunker” slobs bark at him with barbs like “Love it or leave it…” etc. It’s sad that they don’t realize it takes more conviction to stand up and question things than it does to piss on someone.
It’s sad that people can’t get past their own prejudices. We all have them, and I am no exception. For instance, I would be inclined to call the people that emailed Micah “hillbillies”, still others would get the label “dullards and rednecks”, then there are a few that could be stacked into the “Ketchup sammich eating trailer park trash” pile. But then again, I have no problem with the double standard, and I have no problem stooping to their level. I’m willing to fight fire with fire. I’m more than willing to get my hands dirty. Someone has to.
Liberals (and don’t get confused with a “party” here…) have been demonized and for some reason fail to strike back. Some might use the “Why stoop to that level?” argument. I think that’s bullshit. When you’re running for your life, seldom should you stop and be polite, or take the high road. There is absolutely no time for it.
It appears I’m off on a rant again…
Check out Micah's website...
www.micahwright.com
Perhaps leave him a nice message.
Now… I have strange dreams all the time. Usually though, I’m on safari, or scoring the winning overtime goal for the Flames, or doing something incredible. Never do I dream about this kind of psychobabble nonsense. I must have eaten something odd last night. I wish I were kidding around about this dream. It actually bothered me. (Mind you, I suspect that any dream where President Bush is a principle character would be bothersome to most.)
I have been trying to ignore American politics in this for the past little while. (With the exception of the last post… But Rove just pissed me off.) Lately I seem to be drawn to it again. I guess I’m just bored and the magnetic pull of that circus of chaos is too much for me to resist. In my mind I compare it to the magnetic pull of Woolco. (In a time before Wal-Mart sullied the Canadian landscape.)
To explain, when I was a teenager, and started hanging out at the mall, (The Avalon Mall in St. John’s) one of the anchor stores was Woolco. It didn’t seem to matter where you started in the mall, sooner or later you’d inexplicably wind up in the centre of Woolco, usually with a confused look on your face. The only thought being “How the fuck did I get here…” Then you’d go the “Red Grill” for a plate of fries and gravy. There would be a few other people that got caught in the whirling retailer vortex, scratching their heads and trying to enjoy some sort of greasy treat.
That must be it. American politics is like a greasy treat. It’s fast, easily accessible, and really, really bad for you. It makes perfect sense. To take it one step further, it is just as unsatisfying in the long run.
I visited Micah Wright’s website yesterday. For those of you who don’t know who he is, Micah is an artist, and has been running the “Propaganda Remix Project.” He takes Second World War and Cold War posters, and puts a new spin on them for the time that we live in. He has a good sense of humour and has used his conscience to make a statement. Anyway, he posts the hate mail that he gets, and some of it is really awful.
You’ll really be floored by the level of ignorance that these people spew. He regularly gets called things like a communist, a traitor, a faggot, and the list goes on and on. The usual “Archie Bunker” slobs bark at him with barbs like “Love it or leave it…” etc. It’s sad that they don’t realize it takes more conviction to stand up and question things than it does to piss on someone.
It’s sad that people can’t get past their own prejudices. We all have them, and I am no exception. For instance, I would be inclined to call the people that emailed Micah “hillbillies”, still others would get the label “dullards and rednecks”, then there are a few that could be stacked into the “Ketchup sammich eating trailer park trash” pile. But then again, I have no problem with the double standard, and I have no problem stooping to their level. I’m willing to fight fire with fire. I’m more than willing to get my hands dirty. Someone has to.
Liberals (and don’t get confused with a “party” here…) have been demonized and for some reason fail to strike back. Some might use the “Why stoop to that level?” argument. I think that’s bullshit. When you’re running for your life, seldom should you stop and be polite, or take the high road. There is absolutely no time for it.
It appears I’m off on a rant again…
Check out Micah's website...
www.micahwright.com
Perhaps leave him a nice message.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
07/24/05 Karl Rove is a F**ker...
I haven't posted for a few days. It's been nothing but pure laziness on my part, although I have been taking some time to do other things. I have a couple of books on the go (The new Harry Potter book, and the Solzhenitsyn one…), and I needed to take care of some things. (Like going to the dentist and getting some new clothes… ones that don't make me look like I've got a flappy ass.)
I needed some me time. Apparently I needed a lot of me time. In addition to kicking my tires and having some work done, I've been getting some much-wanted sleep. Happily the hallucinations caused by exhaustion have stopped.
Anyway… I've been kicking around some thoughts on the whole “Karl Rove must be punished” thing. For those of you people that live under a rock, and for some strange reason, don't know who he is, Rove is the key ingredient in Bush the lesser's successes.
Some say he's a demon, a villain, a zealot, and more astutely, the apex of power in the United States. All of which are sadly true. He's also best described as the Josef Goebbles of the present age, and like the afore mentioned Nazi, his ability to craft lies and half truths into something Neo Cons spout as gospel is uncanny.
The game for him is to defame and render democrats and other liberals useless. (Mind you, it was a pretty easy job these days… Especially when Howard Dean is the only pony in the stable…) so far he has succeeded with remarkable prowess. It almost makes Hitler's swath through Poland look childishly, clumsy and downright ham fisted.
Rove was rewarded for his efforts, and is now the deputy white house chief of staff, and a senior advisor to the President. (By advisor, I mean handler. Without Rove, Bush would still be a minor leaguer in politics…)
Oddly in a Physical sense, he's not that impressive. He's pudgy, with thinning hair and cheesy glasses. He has the look of a community college professor, and has a smirk on his face like he's been banging the hottest 20 year old in his class. (Gender non-specific…) You would never in a million years get the idea that he “runs” the presidency.
More importantly, he's the spin-doctor that put any remaining semblance of American democracy on life support. And you just know he's eyeing that plug, sizing it up, so when it's least expected he'll tug it out of the socket. This is a man who is willing to use every dirty trick and mistruth to get his desired result. He is everything that rots the core out from under the “New World.”
But I digress; Karl has done a bad thing. He leaked the name of a CIA operative to the media. That's a big “no no.” In fact it's been a legal taboo since the Reagan era. He did it as a way to punish her family, because her husband, who is a retired ambassador, discovered that Iraq was not in fact purchasing “Yellow Cake” uranium and he foolishly let the world know the truth. Not only was it wrong, but also it proves that Rove is a bit of a vindictive cocksucker.
What kind of a man goes out of his way to deliberately endanger someone to prove a point? The answer can only be “An EVIL one.”
Worse still, after promising the media that whoever was responsible for the leaked information would no longer work for the white house, Bush recanted when Rove admitted it was him. Bush should no longer have any shred of credibility left. The longer Rove stays, the longer Bush will suffer in the polls. (Not that it matters much…)
Not since Nixon has America has such a dishonest government. With times being what they are, (which is an awful lot like the Vietnam era…) It really surprises me that there aren't people in the streets, and mass riots over this.
Anyway now I'm just ranting… and I need to sleep.
More later…
End of Transmission
I needed some me time. Apparently I needed a lot of me time. In addition to kicking my tires and having some work done, I've been getting some much-wanted sleep. Happily the hallucinations caused by exhaustion have stopped.
Anyway… I've been kicking around some thoughts on the whole “Karl Rove must be punished” thing. For those of you people that live under a rock, and for some strange reason, don't know who he is, Rove is the key ingredient in Bush the lesser's successes.
Some say he's a demon, a villain, a zealot, and more astutely, the apex of power in the United States. All of which are sadly true. He's also best described as the Josef Goebbles of the present age, and like the afore mentioned Nazi, his ability to craft lies and half truths into something Neo Cons spout as gospel is uncanny.
The game for him is to defame and render democrats and other liberals useless. (Mind you, it was a pretty easy job these days… Especially when Howard Dean is the only pony in the stable…) so far he has succeeded with remarkable prowess. It almost makes Hitler's swath through Poland look childishly, clumsy and downright ham fisted.
Rove was rewarded for his efforts, and is now the deputy white house chief of staff, and a senior advisor to the President. (By advisor, I mean handler. Without Rove, Bush would still be a minor leaguer in politics…)
Oddly in a Physical sense, he's not that impressive. He's pudgy, with thinning hair and cheesy glasses. He has the look of a community college professor, and has a smirk on his face like he's been banging the hottest 20 year old in his class. (Gender non-specific…) You would never in a million years get the idea that he “runs” the presidency.
More importantly, he's the spin-doctor that put any remaining semblance of American democracy on life support. And you just know he's eyeing that plug, sizing it up, so when it's least expected he'll tug it out of the socket. This is a man who is willing to use every dirty trick and mistruth to get his desired result. He is everything that rots the core out from under the “New World.”
But I digress; Karl has done a bad thing. He leaked the name of a CIA operative to the media. That's a big “no no.” In fact it's been a legal taboo since the Reagan era. He did it as a way to punish her family, because her husband, who is a retired ambassador, discovered that Iraq was not in fact purchasing “Yellow Cake” uranium and he foolishly let the world know the truth. Not only was it wrong, but also it proves that Rove is a bit of a vindictive cocksucker.
What kind of a man goes out of his way to deliberately endanger someone to prove a point? The answer can only be “An EVIL one.”
Worse still, after promising the media that whoever was responsible for the leaked information would no longer work for the white house, Bush recanted when Rove admitted it was him. Bush should no longer have any shred of credibility left. The longer Rove stays, the longer Bush will suffer in the polls. (Not that it matters much…)
Not since Nixon has America has such a dishonest government. With times being what they are, (which is an awful lot like the Vietnam era…) It really surprises me that there aren't people in the streets, and mass riots over this.
Anyway now I'm just ranting… and I need to sleep.
More later…
End of Transmission
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Alkaline Trio - Crimson
B0009IW8VM.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
The musical pick of the week. This is a good record. One of my brothers turned me on to them.
They sort of remind me of Killing Joke for some reason. Perhaps it's because this disc is moody.
It's strong mid tempo pop punk, but at no point is there too much sugar.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
07/19/05
I feel great (You could even say both hale and hearty…). I got to sleep late, but it seems to have had no effect on me. I caught myself humming “The Ladybug’s Picnic” on my way to work. I’m not sure why my brain decided to dredge that one up, but it made me smile. Then it got stuck in my head. It has become like some sort of musical version of typhus. It just won’t stop.
Some people are tortured by their demons (Vincent VanGogh, Charles Manson, Jackson Pollock…) me, I’m tortured by a catchy little tune from Sesame Street about insects. If it weren’t so very annoying, it would be funny. It’s like the Zapruder film sequence in the movie JFK. “Back and to the left… Back and to the left… Back and to the left…”
Mind you, it’s not as if I have steeped into the mouth of madness. (Yet…) I just hate having shit repeat itself in my head. Apparently though I’m not alone. According to an American university professor, a song getting stuck in our head happens to roughly 97 percent of the population.
Apparently it’s a sort of "cognitive itch" - the mental equivalent of an itchy back. The brain replays the song over and over again to “scratch the itch.”
Some people are tortured by their demons (Vincent VanGogh, Charles Manson, Jackson Pollock…) me, I’m tortured by a catchy little tune from Sesame Street about insects. If it weren’t so very annoying, it would be funny. It’s like the Zapruder film sequence in the movie JFK. “Back and to the left… Back and to the left… Back and to the left…”
Mind you, it’s not as if I have steeped into the mouth of madness. (Yet…) I just hate having shit repeat itself in my head. Apparently though I’m not alone. According to an American university professor, a song getting stuck in our head happens to roughly 97 percent of the population.
Apparently it’s a sort of "cognitive itch" - the mental equivalent of an itchy back. The brain replays the song over and over again to “scratch the itch.”
Saturday, July 16, 2005
07/15/05
For a day off, today still wound up being busy. I had to go to the office to pick up my pay cheque. (We still operate in the Stone Age.) Then I had to tear off to Yuks to pick up another cheque, then off to the bank.
To get from one destination to another, I decided the train was the best option. Weird things happen to me on the train. I try to keep to myself… I really do. I don’t care for idle conversation. I like to read, or get lost in my thoughts, but somehow, there is always some freak that I accidentally make eye contact with. Apparently I haven’t mastered that glazed over look that most people have on the train. Without fail, I seem to manage to attract people who want to spread the “word” or are so mentally gone that they wish to explain the merits of Scooby Doo’s “acting” abilities. (True story… but for another time.)
Today was no exception. There was a pagan (ish) woman with a hair lip, who had managed to slather (I wish this was an exaggeration…) herself with “Mott’s Clamato” rub on tattoos. She had just left the Stampede grounds and was carrying a couple of brooms. (Irony see… life is truly filled with irony…) She wanted to chat. I wanted to read. I had just put my nose into my book (Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s “The First Circle”) when she tapped me on the shoulder. (I hate… and I mean hate to be touched by complete strangers…)
Rather than attempting a conversation, I just looked at her and furled my brow. I have found over the years that there are few things as dismissive as an arched eyebrow. This however, was not a deterrent for her.
Pagan Woman: It sure is hot…
Me: (Eyebrow still arched…) um yeah…
Pagan Woman: Is that a good book?
Me: I dunno… I just started trying to READ it…
Pagan Woman: Alexander Sol… (From this point the attempt at pronunciation became painful.)
Me: Solzhenitsyn…
Pagan Woman: Never heard of him… What kind of name is that? (Because of the hair lip, you couldn’t see her lips move… It was like looking a ventriloquist without the dummy.)
Me: Russian…
Pagan Woman: What’s it about?
Me: Well that’s what I’d like to find out… So… (And I put my nose back into the book.)
Now you’d think after that, the conversation would be over… Right? Wrong!!!
Pagan Woman: So you have no idea what it’s about?
Me: Look… I just want to read my book.
Pagan Woman: oh… It sure is hot… (I just ignored her from this point on.)
Then happily she got up, (Brooms and all) and moved to a different seat.
Later on, once I finally finished my errands, I went to the Chinook Mall to fart around for a while.
I poked around in the record store; I was waiting for Erin, Maya, and Michelle to show up. We decided to go to the movies. Tonight was the opening for “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” I really wanted to see it, because as a child, it was one of my favorite books. When we lived in Montreal, my dad used to read it to my sister and me. He must have read it to us 10 times. But for as much as I wanted to see it, Erin went loopy for it. I was pretty sure that she might have exploded at one point. I loved hearing her giggle throughout the Oompa Loompa scenes.
Anyway, it was really good. I thought Tim Burton managed to make it look like I had always imagined it to be. Johnny Depp made Willy Wonka fantastically quirky and awkward.
After the movie, we headed off to the bookstore so Erin and Michelle could get their copies of the new Harry Potter book. The place was packed to the gills with kids. Chapters had turned the whole thing into an event. There was face painting, and a treasure hunt. There were “stations” strategically located around the store, where the kids got read different parts of previous books. It was total madness. You couldn’t help but crash into kids. It was reminiscent of trying to navigate “Superstore” on a Saturday afternoon.
While I’m not the most patient person in the world, I managed to remain remarkably restrained. I just tried to keep to the sections that held my interest.
I found a neat book about Russia. It’s called Broken Empire. It’s about the socioeconomic changes since the collapse of communism. I think I’m going to enjoy reading it.
Anyway… It’s bedtime for me.
To get from one destination to another, I decided the train was the best option. Weird things happen to me on the train. I try to keep to myself… I really do. I don’t care for idle conversation. I like to read, or get lost in my thoughts, but somehow, there is always some freak that I accidentally make eye contact with. Apparently I haven’t mastered that glazed over look that most people have on the train. Without fail, I seem to manage to attract people who want to spread the “word” or are so mentally gone that they wish to explain the merits of Scooby Doo’s “acting” abilities. (True story… but for another time.)
Today was no exception. There was a pagan (ish) woman with a hair lip, who had managed to slather (I wish this was an exaggeration…) herself with “Mott’s Clamato” rub on tattoos. She had just left the Stampede grounds and was carrying a couple of brooms. (Irony see… life is truly filled with irony…) She wanted to chat. I wanted to read. I had just put my nose into my book (Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s “The First Circle”) when she tapped me on the shoulder. (I hate… and I mean hate to be touched by complete strangers…)
Rather than attempting a conversation, I just looked at her and furled my brow. I have found over the years that there are few things as dismissive as an arched eyebrow. This however, was not a deterrent for her.
Pagan Woman: It sure is hot…
Me: (Eyebrow still arched…) um yeah…
Pagan Woman: Is that a good book?
Me: I dunno… I just started trying to READ it…
Pagan Woman: Alexander Sol… (From this point the attempt at pronunciation became painful.)
Me: Solzhenitsyn…
Pagan Woman: Never heard of him… What kind of name is that? (Because of the hair lip, you couldn’t see her lips move… It was like looking a ventriloquist without the dummy.)
Me: Russian…
Pagan Woman: What’s it about?
Me: Well that’s what I’d like to find out… So… (And I put my nose back into the book.)
Now you’d think after that, the conversation would be over… Right? Wrong!!!
Pagan Woman: So you have no idea what it’s about?
Me: Look… I just want to read my book.
Pagan Woman: oh… It sure is hot… (I just ignored her from this point on.)
Then happily she got up, (Brooms and all) and moved to a different seat.
Later on, once I finally finished my errands, I went to the Chinook Mall to fart around for a while.
I poked around in the record store; I was waiting for Erin, Maya, and Michelle to show up. We decided to go to the movies. Tonight was the opening for “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” I really wanted to see it, because as a child, it was one of my favorite books. When we lived in Montreal, my dad used to read it to my sister and me. He must have read it to us 10 times. But for as much as I wanted to see it, Erin went loopy for it. I was pretty sure that she might have exploded at one point. I loved hearing her giggle throughout the Oompa Loompa scenes.
Anyway, it was really good. I thought Tim Burton managed to make it look like I had always imagined it to be. Johnny Depp made Willy Wonka fantastically quirky and awkward.
After the movie, we headed off to the bookstore so Erin and Michelle could get their copies of the new Harry Potter book. The place was packed to the gills with kids. Chapters had turned the whole thing into an event. There was face painting, and a treasure hunt. There were “stations” strategically located around the store, where the kids got read different parts of previous books. It was total madness. You couldn’t help but crash into kids. It was reminiscent of trying to navigate “Superstore” on a Saturday afternoon.
While I’m not the most patient person in the world, I managed to remain remarkably restrained. I just tried to keep to the sections that held my interest.
I found a neat book about Russia. It’s called Broken Empire. It’s about the socioeconomic changes since the collapse of communism. I think I’m going to enjoy reading it.
Anyway… It’s bedtime for me.
Ben Folds - Songs For Silverman
B0007WF1XM.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
Another Gem... Ben Folds just gets better and better.
The whole record stands up on it's own.
Just buy it.
The Dropkick Murphys - Warrior's Code
B0009IOR0C.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
I love this disc. It's the perfect album for a night of drunken mayhem. If there was a recipie for "Irish soccer hooligans", this record would be a significant ingredient.
Punk rock wtih accordion and bagpipes, how could you ever go wrong?
Thursday, July 14, 2005
07/13/05 Just some shit...
Here are some things that have been rattling about in my head for the last little while.
1) I hate clowns… I think anyone that decides to become a clown needs a lot of “Special” help. John Wayne Gacey loved clowns… Need I really say more? If a clown showed up at my doorstep, my first reaction would be to punch it.
2) The first rock and roll album I ever got was AC/DC’s “Let There be Rock” I think I still actually have it somewhere. I played the shit out of that record. I was 11 at the time. The next record I got was less of a classic. Styx “Kilroy was Here” To this day, every time I hear “Mr. Roboto” I cringe. I think there may have been an Air Supply record in there too, but the less said about that the better.
3) I love Strawberry Slurpees. Sadly they have disappeared.
4) There are few foods better than a good hotdog. Especially if it has corn relish on it. For some reason they always taste the best coming from one of those carts at 3 in the morning. No Sour Kraut though… That stuff is evil.
5) People who are too into religion freak me out. Especially when they are compelled to recruit others. I just can’t muster that kind of enthusiasm for anything. (There is a difference between belief, and fanatical devotion…)
6) I always wanted to build one of those model rockets. The kind that you can actually launch.
7) I am perversely entertained by politics. Regardless of my own beliefs, it amuses me to see just how easy it is to push people’s buttons when it comes to politics. All it takes is a statement like “Karl Rove is a vampire… or Stephen Harper is impotent” and people unfurl…(Even though both statements are gospel.)
8) I believe that music really is food for the soul. Pop music on the other hand is fodder for the masses. The world is top heavy with starlets, divas and manufactured musical swill. We could have all happily lived our lives without Brittney, JLO, PDiddy, Missy Elliot and Justin Timberlake. Bob Marley, Kurt Cobain, Keith Moon and scores of others must be turning in their graves.
9) The most amusing Heavy Metal band ever is “Judas Priest” (It’s because they take themselves way too serious. (My favourite Heavy Metal band however is Iron Maiden, mostly because they have a brilliant sense of humour.
10) I am considering looking more deeply into Buddhism. I am very attracted to some of its principles. The realization that a physical object is just the manifestation of an idea bakes my noodle.
11) People who think that they are vampires amuse me. That’s some very funny shit. This just in… Vampires aren’t real. Neither are the boogieman, Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny. (No matter what Anne Rice says…) I’m going to go out on a limb here and say, “That takes a special kind of lonely to be able to sit in a dentist’s chair and have pointy teeth installed. Good luck with that…”
12) My new favourite music artist is Kinnie Starr. The song “Alright” sends shivers down my spine. She’s pretty damn cute too.
13) I dislike game show hosts. In my most humble estimation they are barely a notch about used car salesmen, or people who work in Stereo shops. I want to hold Alex Trebec down and shave off his moustache.
14) I believe that the “Middle East” is a powder keg that North Americans have set off. We will be reeling from its ramifications for the next century. It’s too bad we suck at dealing with it too. It’s kinda like using water bombers full of white gas to put out a forest fire.
15) The war on terrorism is being fought in exactly the wrong way. Instead of engaging in combat with rogue nations, we should be hunting the terrorists and treating them as criminals… not terrorists. The sooner we learn to not give them a vaulted status, the better we’ll fare in the “war.” It is more demoralizing to treat them as common criminals. If we refuse to recognize that their deeds have any power over us, the easier it will be to defeat them.
1) I hate clowns… I think anyone that decides to become a clown needs a lot of “Special” help. John Wayne Gacey loved clowns… Need I really say more? If a clown showed up at my doorstep, my first reaction would be to punch it.
2) The first rock and roll album I ever got was AC/DC’s “Let There be Rock” I think I still actually have it somewhere. I played the shit out of that record. I was 11 at the time. The next record I got was less of a classic. Styx “Kilroy was Here” To this day, every time I hear “Mr. Roboto” I cringe. I think there may have been an Air Supply record in there too, but the less said about that the better.
3) I love Strawberry Slurpees. Sadly they have disappeared.
4) There are few foods better than a good hotdog. Especially if it has corn relish on it. For some reason they always taste the best coming from one of those carts at 3 in the morning. No Sour Kraut though… That stuff is evil.
5) People who are too into religion freak me out. Especially when they are compelled to recruit others. I just can’t muster that kind of enthusiasm for anything. (There is a difference between belief, and fanatical devotion…)
6) I always wanted to build one of those model rockets. The kind that you can actually launch.
7) I am perversely entertained by politics. Regardless of my own beliefs, it amuses me to see just how easy it is to push people’s buttons when it comes to politics. All it takes is a statement like “Karl Rove is a vampire… or Stephen Harper is impotent” and people unfurl…(Even though both statements are gospel.)
8) I believe that music really is food for the soul. Pop music on the other hand is fodder for the masses. The world is top heavy with starlets, divas and manufactured musical swill. We could have all happily lived our lives without Brittney, JLO, PDiddy, Missy Elliot and Justin Timberlake. Bob Marley, Kurt Cobain, Keith Moon and scores of others must be turning in their graves.
9) The most amusing Heavy Metal band ever is “Judas Priest” (It’s because they take themselves way too serious. (My favourite Heavy Metal band however is Iron Maiden, mostly because they have a brilliant sense of humour.
10) I am considering looking more deeply into Buddhism. I am very attracted to some of its principles. The realization that a physical object is just the manifestation of an idea bakes my noodle.
11) People who think that they are vampires amuse me. That’s some very funny shit. This just in… Vampires aren’t real. Neither are the boogieman, Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny. (No matter what Anne Rice says…) I’m going to go out on a limb here and say, “That takes a special kind of lonely to be able to sit in a dentist’s chair and have pointy teeth installed. Good luck with that…”
12) My new favourite music artist is Kinnie Starr. The song “Alright” sends shivers down my spine. She’s pretty damn cute too.
13) I dislike game show hosts. In my most humble estimation they are barely a notch about used car salesmen, or people who work in Stereo shops. I want to hold Alex Trebec down and shave off his moustache.
14) I believe that the “Middle East” is a powder keg that North Americans have set off. We will be reeling from its ramifications for the next century. It’s too bad we suck at dealing with it too. It’s kinda like using water bombers full of white gas to put out a forest fire.
15) The war on terrorism is being fought in exactly the wrong way. Instead of engaging in combat with rogue nations, we should be hunting the terrorists and treating them as criminals… not terrorists. The sooner we learn to not give them a vaulted status, the better we’ll fare in the “war.” It is more demoralizing to treat them as common criminals. If we refuse to recognize that their deeds have any power over us, the easier it will be to defeat them.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
07/11/05 The People's Glorious Republic of Marcus...
I have decided that it’s time for some sort of benevolent dictatorship to run “Fortress North America.” I have also decided that I will throw my hat into that ring. I nominated myself to become the new fearless leader. Hell… given who’s running the show these days, I suspect that I couldn’t do any worse.
Perhaps since others have imposed their will on me and mine, maybe I’ll be able to do the same thing. I have some ideas, and I think they would be of more benefit.
My first act would be to replace the three existing national anthems with the immortal classic “Back In Black” by AC / DC. I love that song. It’s strong, and it kind of says, “Hi… You may have noticed that we’ve made some changes.” (I like that.)
Next, the flags have to go. They all suck. They’re all so bloody BORING and all so terribly traditional. Who doesn’t use the colours red white or blue? Instead I was thinking of a yellow flag with a bunch of bananas on it. We’ll called it “Glorious Old Bananas” or something like that… I’ll work on that one… (Who amongst us needs stars and maple leaves when they can have fruit?)
That brings us to policy. I would create some new ministries and make up some totally new ones.
The Propaganda Ministry. (No beating around the bush with this one… I’m willing to call a spade a spade…) It will be responsible to me and me alone. Their job is to tell my “children” that all is well. I already have a few people in mind for this post.
The Ministry of The People’s Happiness. I love the sound of this one… They will work hand in hand with the Propaganda ministry. Their only aim is to please. We need to put smiles on each and every North American’s face. As a side benefit, they will be able to dispense psychoactive drugs free of charge to all my “Children”
The Department of The Navy and the Coast Guard will be amalgamated. The New ministry is to be called “That dirty bunch of Rum Soaked Sea Dogs and Pirates.” Just wait till you see the new letterhead… It’s truly smashing.
INS, Homeland Security, The RCMP, and The FBI, Customs and Revenue Canada, and their Mexican counterparts will also be amalgamated. They will be newly named “The Keep The Bad People Out Police” Their motto, translated from Latin is “Yes we really can do this to you…”
We also need a name for our new super country. Marcusland has a good ring to it… So does “The People’s Glorious Republic of Marcus…” Again I’ll have to ponder on it for a while.
Anyway…
Perhaps since others have imposed their will on me and mine, maybe I’ll be able to do the same thing. I have some ideas, and I think they would be of more benefit.
My first act would be to replace the three existing national anthems with the immortal classic “Back In Black” by AC / DC. I love that song. It’s strong, and it kind of says, “Hi… You may have noticed that we’ve made some changes.” (I like that.)
Next, the flags have to go. They all suck. They’re all so bloody BORING and all so terribly traditional. Who doesn’t use the colours red white or blue? Instead I was thinking of a yellow flag with a bunch of bananas on it. We’ll called it “Glorious Old Bananas” or something like that… I’ll work on that one… (Who amongst us needs stars and maple leaves when they can have fruit?)
That brings us to policy. I would create some new ministries and make up some totally new ones.
The Propaganda Ministry. (No beating around the bush with this one… I’m willing to call a spade a spade…) It will be responsible to me and me alone. Their job is to tell my “children” that all is well. I already have a few people in mind for this post.
The Ministry of The People’s Happiness. I love the sound of this one… They will work hand in hand with the Propaganda ministry. Their only aim is to please. We need to put smiles on each and every North American’s face. As a side benefit, they will be able to dispense psychoactive drugs free of charge to all my “Children”
The Department of The Navy and the Coast Guard will be amalgamated. The New ministry is to be called “That dirty bunch of Rum Soaked Sea Dogs and Pirates.” Just wait till you see the new letterhead… It’s truly smashing.
INS, Homeland Security, The RCMP, and The FBI, Customs and Revenue Canada, and their Mexican counterparts will also be amalgamated. They will be newly named “The Keep The Bad People Out Police” Their motto, translated from Latin is “Yes we really can do this to you…”
We also need a name for our new super country. Marcusland has a good ring to it… So does “The People’s Glorious Republic of Marcus…” Again I’ll have to ponder on it for a while.
Anyway…
Friday, July 08, 2005
07/08/05
Today is the first day of the Calgary Stampede. For the uninitiated, The “Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth” starts with a big parade. Which is great right? Who doesn’t love a parade? On the list of humanity’s most beloved things, I believe parades fall somewhere in between pirates and deep fried dessert treats. My only issue with the parade is this. It starts at 7:30 am. What undead cowpoke decided on that start time?
Clearly the wild-hearted spirit of west doesn’t involve sleeping.
As a pedestrian, it matters little to me that the parade clogs up the downtown on a Friday morning. (I can get behind the chaos…) Truthfully, I like all the people milling about. I just find it hard to get that excited about anything before 10am.
While I’m not the biggest fan of the Stampede Exhibition itself, I do like what happens to the city in that 10-day period. Calgary pulls the stick out of its ass and has a good old time. For 10 days people are a little more human. Sure it’s a little odd to see Asians dressed as cowboys, and most people look really silly in a Stetson, but it’s fun. Even if it just reinforces stereotypes of the west.
Other things…
Tomorrow I’m going to do a show in Red Deer. It’s been about 3 years since I last played at the legion hall there. I’m excited. I get to go with Jasen Fredricksen and Dave Nystrom. I like those guys a lot, so this should be fun.
Tonight, Erin and I are going to the movies. I think we are going to see Batman Begins. I have already seen it, but I loved it, so I am more than willing to go again. I think I have a hopeless addiction to popcorn. (Well, from the theatre…)
Yesterday I mentioned a graphic novel called “V for Vendetta” I discovered that it is going to be a movie. The producers of the Matrix have just finished up principal photography, with November 5th as the release date. For those of you who don’t understand the significance of the date, it’s Guy Fawkes Day… or Bonfire night.
Given the nature of the story, it couldn’t be a more appropriate day.
"Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot. We see no reason why
Gunpowder treason should ever be forgot!"
Anyway…
Clearly the wild-hearted spirit of west doesn’t involve sleeping.
As a pedestrian, it matters little to me that the parade clogs up the downtown on a Friday morning. (I can get behind the chaos…) Truthfully, I like all the people milling about. I just find it hard to get that excited about anything before 10am.
While I’m not the biggest fan of the Stampede Exhibition itself, I do like what happens to the city in that 10-day period. Calgary pulls the stick out of its ass and has a good old time. For 10 days people are a little more human. Sure it’s a little odd to see Asians dressed as cowboys, and most people look really silly in a Stetson, but it’s fun. Even if it just reinforces stereotypes of the west.
Other things…
Tomorrow I’m going to do a show in Red Deer. It’s been about 3 years since I last played at the legion hall there. I’m excited. I get to go with Jasen Fredricksen and Dave Nystrom. I like those guys a lot, so this should be fun.
Tonight, Erin and I are going to the movies. I think we are going to see Batman Begins. I have already seen it, but I loved it, so I am more than willing to go again. I think I have a hopeless addiction to popcorn. (Well, from the theatre…)
Yesterday I mentioned a graphic novel called “V for Vendetta” I discovered that it is going to be a movie. The producers of the Matrix have just finished up principal photography, with November 5th as the release date. For those of you who don’t understand the significance of the date, it’s Guy Fawkes Day… or Bonfire night.
Given the nature of the story, it couldn’t be a more appropriate day.
"Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot. We see no reason why
Gunpowder treason should ever be forgot!"
Anyway…
07/07/05
I’ve had a great swell of emotion for the people of England today. I, for some reason, feel the need to express my most heart-felt condolences. Not that it helps… I can’t imagine the horror that these people must be going through at this time. In a rare moment, I even prayed today. I have been going through the same range of feelings that I did during 9/11.
Regardless of the rationale that was employed to conceive of this act, it is nothing short of insidious brutality. I believe that the people responsible must be apprehended and punished. Nothing that I can think of justifies this. Nothing.
I understand that for every action, there is a reaction. For every trade tower there is an Afghanistan, and for every Iraq there is a London. When is this going to stop? At what point will common sense prevail? Is there ever going to be a time when a sense of human decency prevents us from butchering one another?
Likely not I suppose.
I found myself looking at a graphic novel called V for Vendetta. An astute and talented man named Alan Moore wrote it. In a nutshell, it’s about a post apocalyptic England, where fascism is on the rise, and one man manages to take the government to task. It’s a very violent, but equally fascinating story. The lines between good and evil have been muddied to the point where it becomes difficult to figure out whom to root for.
That is where I am in all of this. I’m not sure whom to root for. The first world is broken. I’m not sure it’s even fixable. I’m not surprised that others hate us. We’ve become decadent, and greedy. We live in a wasteful society that consumes more than we need to. (And by insane margins…)
I am convinced that this terror thing is a case of double jeopardy. Both sides have fucked us all. The powers that be do not represent my interests. (Hell, of all the G8 leaders, there are 7 I didn’t even get a chance to vote for, and they get to make decision that will affect me… How does that work?) They never have. But the terrorists threaten the security of my world.
We need to find a way to sort this out. There has to be a more fair way of dealing with the conflicts between us. Otherwise, sooner or later, the jig will be up. Humanity will become like the dinosaurs, just a footnote in earth’s history.
Anyway… This is all reactionary blather on my part.
And for those of you that have read V for Vendetta…
England Prevails.
Regardless of the rationale that was employed to conceive of this act, it is nothing short of insidious brutality. I believe that the people responsible must be apprehended and punished. Nothing that I can think of justifies this. Nothing.
I understand that for every action, there is a reaction. For every trade tower there is an Afghanistan, and for every Iraq there is a London. When is this going to stop? At what point will common sense prevail? Is there ever going to be a time when a sense of human decency prevents us from butchering one another?
Likely not I suppose.
I found myself looking at a graphic novel called V for Vendetta. An astute and talented man named Alan Moore wrote it. In a nutshell, it’s about a post apocalyptic England, where fascism is on the rise, and one man manages to take the government to task. It’s a very violent, but equally fascinating story. The lines between good and evil have been muddied to the point where it becomes difficult to figure out whom to root for.
That is where I am in all of this. I’m not sure whom to root for. The first world is broken. I’m not sure it’s even fixable. I’m not surprised that others hate us. We’ve become decadent, and greedy. We live in a wasteful society that consumes more than we need to. (And by insane margins…)
I am convinced that this terror thing is a case of double jeopardy. Both sides have fucked us all. The powers that be do not represent my interests. (Hell, of all the G8 leaders, there are 7 I didn’t even get a chance to vote for, and they get to make decision that will affect me… How does that work?) They never have. But the terrorists threaten the security of my world.
We need to find a way to sort this out. There has to be a more fair way of dealing with the conflicts between us. Otherwise, sooner or later, the jig will be up. Humanity will become like the dinosaurs, just a footnote in earth’s history.
Anyway… This is all reactionary blather on my part.
And for those of you that have read V for Vendetta…
England Prevails.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
07/06/05
It’ s 3:15 in the morning. It’s pretty quiet. The only noise, other than the pressing of these keys, is the sound of a street cleaner making its rounds. It has a bit of a dull, almost white noise kind of hum to it. It’s not on my street, by the sounds of it; it’s a couple of blocks away.
I have often thought it would be cool to have a job like that. The kind of job that lets you work late at night, and alleviates the need to be social. I like that idea. Well mostly. More to the point, the need to be social with complete strangers. I’m not that keen on it. Usually I find meeting people a little painful, unless they give off some sort of a disarming charm. If there is no sense of human warmth, I’m not comfortable. I get really fidgety. (It’s sort of like how a dog has to sniff you out before it decides how acceptable you are…) This can however be rectified by the addition of Scotch. Ply me with the water of life, and sadly, then I can find interest in people that would normally drive me mad.
There is something to be said for the quiet. It’s in those increasingly rare moments, when my brain unwinds. I get to think without the noise pollution that my head is constantly infected with. There are no fires to put out; there is no manic need to get something done. It’s brilliant.
I have detected another noise. It is the ticking sound of my wristwatch. Tick… Tick… Tick…
I have often thought it would be cool to have a job like that. The kind of job that lets you work late at night, and alleviates the need to be social. I like that idea. Well mostly. More to the point, the need to be social with complete strangers. I’m not that keen on it. Usually I find meeting people a little painful, unless they give off some sort of a disarming charm. If there is no sense of human warmth, I’m not comfortable. I get really fidgety. (It’s sort of like how a dog has to sniff you out before it decides how acceptable you are…) This can however be rectified by the addition of Scotch. Ply me with the water of life, and sadly, then I can find interest in people that would normally drive me mad.
There is something to be said for the quiet. It’s in those increasingly rare moments, when my brain unwinds. I get to think without the noise pollution that my head is constantly infected with. There are no fires to put out; there is no manic need to get something done. It’s brilliant.
I have detected another noise. It is the ticking sound of my wristwatch. Tick… Tick… Tick…
Monday, July 04, 2005
07/05/05
I remember why I hate open mics. It strikes me that they are only good for mining a phrase here, and an idea there. There's not much in the way of useful crowd response, so it's not like you can really test a joke.
Nothing says "stand up" quite like a big empty room, (if you discount the Koreans munching on chicken wings in the back) It's not a place to learn your craft. It's a place to learn humility. That's it. There is nothing more to gain from it.
It is most likely that if you kill at an open mic, then you are probably the funniest guy in your office.
I have nothing else to offer this evening…
Nothing says "stand up" quite like a big empty room, (if you discount the Koreans munching on chicken wings in the back) It's not a place to learn your craft. It's a place to learn humility. That's it. There is nothing more to gain from it.
It is most likely that if you kill at an open mic, then you are probably the funniest guy in your office.
I have nothing else to offer this evening…
07/04/05 Maybe The Problem is You...
First, I’d like to thank all those that voted (either by email, or by leaving comments.) It was a tight race between “Disfigured Skating, A Gentleman’s Handbook” and “Maybe the Problem is You…” The latter wins by the narrowest of margins.
Now with having a title, I can proceed with the artwork. The Cd itself will be ready in the next two weeks. (Provided that I can get this fucking piece of shit scanner to work… HP my ass…)
But I digress…
It’s early, and I have tons of work to do.
So my possums, I will post something with a little more depth later on.
End of Transmission…
Now with having a title, I can proceed with the artwork. The Cd itself will be ready in the next two weeks. (Provided that I can get this fucking piece of shit scanner to work… HP my ass…)
But I digress…
It’s early, and I have tons of work to do.
So my possums, I will post something with a little more depth later on.
End of Transmission…
Friday, July 01, 2005
07/01/05
I just spent the last hour at the gym in my building. I’m trying to beat the 25-pound plateau that I seem to have gotten stuck at. I’m blasting at it with as much cardio as I can manage. I’m wiped, and I smell like an old hockey bag, but I feel like I’ve accomplished something. Tomorrow I’m getting right back on that horse. I am a man determined.
I also managed to get some decent sleep. That’s what I want out of my Canada day. Just a really good rest, and that’s about it. I have no real desire to celebrate. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Canadian and all, but really it’s just the place that I’m from. I don’t have an over inflated sense of pragmatic patriotism. I’ll leave that to the Archie Bunker Type slobs. (I realize that’s a fictitious American character… but it seemed to fit the stereotype I was going for.) They seem to get off on it. I do not.
The only time I get really wrapped up in patriotism is when hockey supremacy is on the line. This may be hypocritical to some, but I don’t give a shit. I’m willing to live with it.
I’d have to say that my expectations for our nation’s birthday have been dramatically lowered over the years. To me is has become as anti climactic as New Year’s Eve. I just don’t really care that much. For some reason I’m unable to get excited when the big red ball drops, or the clock strikes 12. Perhaps it’s just a ploy to unload cheap champagne on the masses.
I find myself wondered if most people fake the excitement. I’ve forced the smile through gritted teeth, and sang the song with a curse under my breath. How many of us are there? How many are mixing it up at the party? How many would rather be doing something else? Too many times, I’ve struggled to get that taxi at 4am.
It all just seems too forced to me.
On to other stuff…
I started cutting together a promo video last night. I really liked my performance on the tape, but I didn’t realize just how fat I had gotten. I looked like the Micheline man. (More to the point, the Micheline man in a pink shirt. Fuck…what was I thinking?) Just call me BIB. Anyway, I decided to pitch it, and re-shoot in the fall. The audio however is still useable. I think it will become the CD I have been promising for eons. I’ve been scraping together some possible titles for it. This is the list I have come up with. I’m counting on all of you readers to vote on the best one.
1) Maybe The Problem is you.
2) A tad Overweight, But Olive eyes to die for.
3) The Scrapes of Wrath
4) I used to be Fat.
5) Perhaps you should Floss…
6) Marcus Beaubier – Live at Yuk Yuks
7) Disfigured Skating, A Gentleman's Handbook...
8) What gives you the right to put out a CD…
9) New and Improved Flavour…
Anyway, Just leave a comment on which one you like best, and I'll use some sort of scientific method to calculate the results.
I also managed to get some decent sleep. That’s what I want out of my Canada day. Just a really good rest, and that’s about it. I have no real desire to celebrate. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Canadian and all, but really it’s just the place that I’m from. I don’t have an over inflated sense of pragmatic patriotism. I’ll leave that to the Archie Bunker Type slobs. (I realize that’s a fictitious American character… but it seemed to fit the stereotype I was going for.) They seem to get off on it. I do not.
The only time I get really wrapped up in patriotism is when hockey supremacy is on the line. This may be hypocritical to some, but I don’t give a shit. I’m willing to live with it.
I’d have to say that my expectations for our nation’s birthday have been dramatically lowered over the years. To me is has become as anti climactic as New Year’s Eve. I just don’t really care that much. For some reason I’m unable to get excited when the big red ball drops, or the clock strikes 12. Perhaps it’s just a ploy to unload cheap champagne on the masses.
I find myself wondered if most people fake the excitement. I’ve forced the smile through gritted teeth, and sang the song with a curse under my breath. How many of us are there? How many are mixing it up at the party? How many would rather be doing something else? Too many times, I’ve struggled to get that taxi at 4am.
It all just seems too forced to me.
On to other stuff…
I started cutting together a promo video last night. I really liked my performance on the tape, but I didn’t realize just how fat I had gotten. I looked like the Micheline man. (More to the point, the Micheline man in a pink shirt. Fuck…what was I thinking?) Just call me BIB. Anyway, I decided to pitch it, and re-shoot in the fall. The audio however is still useable. I think it will become the CD I have been promising for eons. I’ve been scraping together some possible titles for it. This is the list I have come up with. I’m counting on all of you readers to vote on the best one.
1) Maybe The Problem is you.
2) A tad Overweight, But Olive eyes to die for.
3) The Scrapes of Wrath
4) I used to be Fat.
5) Perhaps you should Floss…
6) Marcus Beaubier – Live at Yuk Yuks
7) Disfigured Skating, A Gentleman's Handbook...
8) What gives you the right to put out a CD…
9) New and Improved Flavour…
Anyway, Just leave a comment on which one you like best, and I'll use some sort of scientific method to calculate the results.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)