Thank You Vandal Hearts II And Healing Spells
So it has almost come to pass. March is almost over, the
battlefield terrain is being advanced upon and I have
some people to thank for this. Mostly, though, I would like to
thank a video game - Vandal Hearts II. Since my gaming
systems are pretty low-tech and out of date, I am pretty
limited in my selection. As loser-ish as it sounds to thank
a video game - I must admit that this game actually kept
my spirits high and my mind entertained and focused in
this time of hacky-gross sickness. Though I've never been
a fan of RPG's, I am a fan of detail and there is eons of
detail in this game. The sad thing is that I have played
hours already and I'm only apparently 12% complete.
Wow.
I actually logged so many hours on this game that I
started having dreams about being a player in a battle.
In the game, a player can use a healing spell on their own
person or on a teammate to restore health. Last night,
I dreamed that I was injured in a field when all of a
sudden, a warm sensation came over me and a green
light was beaming into me in a force-field like state.
I woke up today feeling the best that I've felt in
weeks. Maybe the healing spell actually worked.
This Month Is Shite
I barely remember much of Trainspotting, now. I saw it a long time
ago. One line that sticks out in my memory, though, is a scene where
Ewan McGregor shouts 'It's SHITE being SCOTTISH!' in the middle
of a massive field. It's sort of his protest to the world for the lot
that has been given to him.
That kinda sums up how I feel today.
I just want March to be OVER. PLEASE!! How much more do I have
to take? Not only did I give up beer, but I also came down with some
sort of cold/flu/nasty/hack/wheeze bug that has stayed with me for
a while. I can tell it's almost over but it's been nearly 2 weeks, now.
Come ON! Sometimes, I wish I could take a lungbrush and clean
out my insides with some peroxide or some strong chemical. Sure,
I might get sicker to the point of being septic, but at least I would
be phlegm-less.
On my way to work today (after waking up and feeling fine), I had
this eery feeling of being sweaty and dizzy at the same time. I
promptly came home and spent the rest of the day (until now)
in bed. I guess my frustration comes from spending most of my
life un-sick. I am a fairly healthy individual and so when I lose
control of my inner-workings, I get irritated and anguish-ridden
easily. I have a pretty good immune system but viruses have to
work their way out of you. On their time. It's a waiting game.
Great. Grand. Wonderful.
I scream from my phlegm-filled nodules to the skies above and
fall down prostrate in dizzy surrender.
Tiger BalmI've been blogging too much about foreign/lofty concepts, as
of late, and straying from personal blather and issues of the
heart. I apologize for that (but all the same, screw you - it's
my blog).
Today was a good day. I think I'm finally getting past this
horrid sickness of lungs, phlegm, hacking and slobbering
into mountains of kleenex. I still have a bit of a residual
cough hanging around but it's fighting to stay in me. All
signs point to being on the up and up.
Rain kept me indoors today. Sarah worked on stuff for her
practicum teaching and I played about 4 hours of this PS 1
game called 'Vandal Hearts II' that I've become very
addicted to. You get to name the hero and sort of choose
your own adventure. The graphics are very substandard
and could have easily been replicated on the original NES
system. It's equivalent to Link (an RPG of sorts) and I was
never one to get into those games...and now I know why.
It has taken over my life. I play a lot of it in my spare time.
In fact, after I finish this blog, I am going to try and finish
a battle where I am stumped as what my next move should
be. So there. That's my life, these days. Satisfied?
Yes - I am a massive nerd.
I can hear the rain, faintly. Sarah is asleep in the other
room. This is a moment of clarity.
You Broke Rule Number OneWhen I was a kid, I watched a few Charles Bronson movies with my
brother. If you've ever seen a Charlie Bronson flick, his characters
were always famous for two things:
1. Killing many people (usually out of revenge) with ridiculously
sized guns.
2. Bad acting.
Somehow though, when I was engrossed in those films, I would
always end up rooting for Charles because his characters usually
fought for people who had been bullied and put into a no-win
situation. He was the X factor. In one of his films in the Death
Wish series (I think it was IV), he actually blows up his nemesis
at point blank range with a rocket launcher. Awesome.
Bronson personified a tough guy image that made those who
were twisting the law know that they were in the wrong. He took
up the cause of the defenseless and brought justice wherever he
went in his films. Apparently, he only got into acting after earning
a purple heart in the military because he was interested in the
amount of money one could make as an actor.
Bronson makes me think about rules. There are certain rules that
transcend law and government - they are innate to our beings. In
Oceans 13, Danny Ocean and his crew talk about fighting back for
their friend Rueben because Rueben's nemesis 'broke rule
number one'. Oddly enough, within the film, this rule is never
fully explained...but the audience just sort of gets it. I think that
a safe rule number one for most would be 'don't double cross
your friends' - or an extension of the golden rule. Either way -
you just don't break rule number one. You don't do it. If you
do, consequences will always follow.
Many people who break rule number one have convinced
themselves that they did the 'best they could' and have moved
on. I'd like to think that we'll all be reminded for our mistakes
one day - so we can learn from them.
Sadly, Bronson died of pneumonia in the midst of suffering
from Alzheimer's disease on August 30, 2003. He was buried
close to his three decade residence in West Windsor in
Brownsville, Vermont. I'd like to think he never broke rule
number one.
ArgumentsFor as long as I can remember, I haven't really liked the art of
arguing. Recently, in watching an episode of The Office, Oscar
mentioned how arguing only really makes those who argue
deeper entrenched in their original point of view. I have seen
this fault many times in my life and I try to avoid it at all
costs.
But if you really want to argue with me, you better know that
you're gonna need to have something substantial to say. There
is a movement within post-modern culture that is all about
'disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing'. It's sort of like listening
to let someone make a statement and then saying 'No! I don't
agree at all. That's wrong!' in a tone that is very facial and
rubbing. But then when the statement-maker questions the
person who disagrees, they get seen as the 'bad guy'.
Personally, I think that disagreeing only for the sake of
disagreement, in and of itself, is total bullshit. If you want to
disagree - fine. It's a free country and anyone is allowed to
disagree. But you better have something pretty awe-inspiring
or thought-provoking to offer if you're going to jump on an
argument and discredit it. Have a point. Don't disagree out of
a defensive, knee-jerk reaction. Think. Ponder. Then speak.
We are a society that speaks out of turn. We do things that
are rash and thoughtless. We move without looking to our
left or our right - we barge ahead and bowl others over.
We spit ideas without fully salivating first. We blather. We
bumble. We get told to 'fulfill our destinies' and 'let nothing
stand in our way'...when we don't even know what it is we
want.
Just thinkin'.
Wild Turkeys In The Glebe
So I'm having coffee with my friend Jon this morning and
without warning, his eyes widen as he's looking out the
coffeeshop window beside me and pointing. That's when
I turned to my left and see one of these things (as
pictured above) walking down the sidewalk of a very
urban area. A wild turkey roaming the streets of the
glebe. After a while, the turkey took off down Bank
Street and into a stream of steady traffic. Not knowing
how to properly handle a turkey, we both hoped that it
was possibly a mishap of a nearby restaurant (though
I can't imagine why an eatery would kill live animals
as opposed to having them shipped in).
I had a good convo with Jon and started my day well
with some caffeine and lively entertainment. We
both spent a bit of time talking about injustice and
the need that both of us feel (at times) to point out
misdirection when people (especially older people)
seem to lose track of the right things. Sometimes, it
can be a bit of a plaguing feeling to always see needs
and people that need to be approached but we both
discussed constructive and healthy ways to deal with
those issues. We also spent some time talking about
the people who (no matter how much we pray for and
try to walk away from) really deserve a serious
beatdown and tongue-lashing for silly actions.
Adults are often the biggest children around.
More importantly, though, both of us are starting to
realize that folks who are on the ground and
who are serious about caring for others - and really
involved and influential in the lives of others - will
always be targeted. Those folks will be targeted
because...they are doing good and those who thrive
in mediocrity don't like to see that. Whatever the
cost, though, I think it's safe to say that Jon and I
will always strive to be those folks - targeted, yes -
but influential, doing good, caring about others
and not afraid to get dirty on the floors with
people concerning their problems.
Sometimes, we are all wild turkeys in the glebe.
(Wow! Cheese factor very high.)
The Right To Be Wrong
I never liked Luther Wright and The Wrongs. I respect
the fact that he's been around in the Canadian music
scene for eons...but that's not necessarily a good thing.
Having said that, though, I really don't know much of
his catalogue at all and should probably delve a little
deeper into his music before making such an assenine
assumption. In fact, to say that I never liked Luther
Wright and The Wrongs is a total carpet statement
because I have never fairly assessed his music. Wow.
I am an ass.
I love being wrong. In fact, this is something I am
learning more and more about myself. When I'm wrong,
it gives me a chance to grow and mature and develop
what I believe. If I was right all the time, the world
would be a pretty fucked up place. My relationships
would only be one-sided. I would use my rightness
against others and let friends think they were winning
arguments only to slam home the truth and rub it in
their faces. I would tell my wife what to do all the
time.
I also love being wrong when it comes to my
assumptions and cheap judgments about people. Today
I had a really good talk with someone who I haven't
connected with in a while. We've been in the same
circles a lot but we haven't had the chance (nor the
desire) to sit down and hash some things out. I was
wrong about this guy - and I'm very thankful for
that wrongness.
'See if there is any (wrong or) offensive way in me
and lead me in the way everlasting.'
Vilified By Illness
Sickness is an important part of our make-up. It shows us
that as humans, we are not indestructible and that we
are, in fact, quite disposable. My head feels like a
bowling ball today and I haven't slept well the past
2 nights. People tell me there's something going around.
Thanks! That helps. Why don't you tell me I'm going to
die while you're at it.
The worst feeling is having a good nose-blow and
watching NOTHING come out.
Anyways...having troubles typing. Need sleepy.
The Line Straddler
I sense that in a lot of ways, my role in life has been to maintain
balance. This philosophy of balance and the tension that holds
balance in place seems to apply to everything I see around me.
Whether it's recreation, religion, spirituality, medicine,
relationships, sex, earth-love or what have you - the dangers
of going too far one way and completely abandoning the art
of balance show through in the merits of one's life. The one
who chooses balance will always have the taunt or pull to go
strongly to one side and stay there. Does this mean that in
being balanced, one must always be impartial? I don't think so.
I think you can still exude balance in your lifestyle and in your
projections when you allow yourself to go too far one way
from time to time...as long as you come back to the point of
balance.
Yes - the verbiage I'm using seems quite general and vague.
That is because it applies. In the realm of metaphysics,
balance is seen in the relationship between Law and Chaos.
Law is, due to its nature, over-powering and controlling
while Chaos is
untameable and unmanageable and the
ultimate opposite of Law. What came first, though - Chaos
or Law?
In philosophy, the concept of moral balance exists in endless
forms. A prime example of this is within the
golden mean -
a middle
ground that has virtue 'being between the extreme
and the lacking'. Balance was also a pillar concept for the
Pythagoreans who intertwined moral excellence with
mathematical perfection. Confucian teachings and Buddhist
teachings also refer heavily to balance as a key concept...
but what does it mean to really balance?
To think back to the days of
pre-pubescence, one can recall
visions of the first visit to a balance beam. Not much to
look at, these long steel beams usually were a foot off the
ground and had a few support rods along the shaft to keep
the beam from tipping. To step out on that beam was a
horrific feeling. I can remember being at Leslie Park
Public School and trying one out at a young age. I recall the
notion of the unknown...and the knowing that having fallen
before, it would hurt if I slipped off the side. My feet did
not fail me, though, and with every sideways step, I made
my way across pretending that there was a dragon on
one side and a moat of fire on the other. To fall off either
side and give in to gravity would have hurt but it would
have been easy.
Balance is the hard road. It is what I strive for. It is what
I believe in.
Feeling Good Despite Being Bad
The past few days (since I got back from Kingston), I have
felt a little off. The last 2 mornings, though, I knew something
was wrong when I woke up to the sound of something like
jiffy pop at boiling point. The noise was coming from lungs
and chestal region. It seems I have something going on down
there as I've been coughin' up golden brown nuggets of joy
and my voice sounds like a gravel pit.
Despite that, though, I took some vitamin C and I'm on the
up and up. We shifted a few things around in our apartment
and have a pretty sweet layout, now. We actually have an
eating table (which will be sweet for entertaining - if we
haven't invited you over for a meal, that's why) and
moved the old click-clackety PC into the bedroom. I
fashioned a desk out of some milk crates and a plank
of wood. It is very low to the ground but it seems to be
doing the trick in terms of maximizing what limited
space we have in this pad.
Village people happens tonight. I'm leaving in a few
minutes. Guess I better get dressed. Here's to crackly
lungs and warmer days on the horizon.
(On another note, I only have 9 days left until the
re-boot of beer season. It's become so bad that the
other night, I actually had a dream about being at a
bar with some friends and a bartender poured me a
dark brown ale into a frosty glass. He passed it my
way and I smelt the haunting, hoppy aroma. As I
began to press it to my lips to sip, I pulled it away
and blurted 'Oh CRAP! I can't drink beer yet! It's
still March!' Then I woke up sweaty and upset.
I wish I didn't like beer as much as I do.)
No One Cares About Weekend BloggingI'm not kidding. It's true. Sure, I'm trying to spin out 365 interesting
blogs this year but that's a little hard to do when the weekend comes
and my brain is mashed potatoes and gravy.
I'm watching the first Pink Panther (of the Steve Martin re-makes)
and I have to say that despite bad press, this film is hilarious. The
newest one, however, sucked so bad that I actually felt ill after it
was over. I couldn't believe that a film containing Steve Martin,
Andy Garcia, John Cleese, Alfred Molina and many more could
have been so poorly written that it made me ache.
Steve Martin is a great comedian. Watching his older works like
Roxanne shows his ability to ad-lib, use wordplay and exploit the
physical side of slapstick all in one motion. He truly is a well-
rounded actor and comic. Now, though, it's getting apparent that
he is getting older and a little less able to branch out. Even the
first Pink Panther gets a little tiring at times but it still has its
moments of Martin hilarity. He seems to be getting pegged and
pinned down by studios. I really want to read his book 'Pure
Drivel' sometime.
Sarah is resting beside me. It's time to pull the shades down on
the world.
Lycra is important.
Be Where You Are (By the way - the last post title was a song reference. Bonus points to
anyone who can correctly guess its point of origin.)
Life moves faster than we ever expect. I remember my good friend
Garry once telling me about a missionary whose tattered, worn
book he read. The missionary's name was Jim Elliott. I'm not a
huge fan of missionaries but this guy was intense. He was killed
at the age of 26 but wrote some pretty inspiring stuff before he
was gone. In his book 'Shadow Of The Almighty', he wrote the
words 'Wherever you are, be all there'.
I remember my friend telling me about that quote way back and
how it moved him. So often, we get hooked on some ideal in a
far away land but forget that we are placed where we are for a
reason. We all have purpose within the specific community we
inhabit. I am convinced that if more North Americans were
committed to the betterment of their own backyards, this
world be an amazing place. Instead, though, we leave. We run
from problems. We blame. We travel.
We are not all there. I am as guilty as everyone.
I am in a band. It is a work in progress but sometimes I am
afraid to put both feet in the bucket. I am not afraid of failing,
musically, because I have done that many times. I am mostly
afraid of having no money AND what people will think of me.
It's true. But if this band and musical project is to go anywhere,
I need to be 'all there'.
Tough call.
'As The Sun Went Down Over Kingston'
Kingston is a city of extreme nostalgia for me. I have had
some serious experiences within that place and they always
stick with me when I find myself frequenting the Princess
Street area. I drive by old, tattered street signs (and I
always look for Albert but it's missing) and think of years
gone by.
I'm racing the clock to get this post in on time so I'm
fighting the urge to compress my words and yet do so with
great speed and vigor.
I had a blessed time yesterday and this morning. I was
zapped and awakened. I was uncoiled and uncorked.
The weather reeked of Spring newness and the approach
of new horizons. Thawing dogshit smelled like strawberries
(in the words of Buck 65) and the sun never shone so
bright on the harbour.
I had lunch with a really old friend who I've missed. I
had mid-afternoon coffee and tarts with some great and
wise brothers. I walked around downtown with another
wise brother and spoke of things obscure and sacred.
I ate dinner with some awesome people in an eatery
where I have logged many hours. I had a few drinks
with more friends and watched on old friend play some
serious wankery guitar. I slept over with some close
friends and as the sun rose this morning, we sat
around in their living room, drinking coffee and catching
up on all things. I found an old pair of shorts that a
friend started to sew for me in the summer but never
finished. It made me miss her.
The above pic is a ticket I got for parking on the street
overnight. There was no fine. It was a warning.
You can't put a price on connection. Mission
accomplished. Void filled. Shroud lifted.
Thanks God for speaking to me by the water as the
ice melted under the sun.
Kingston Bound
I'm pretty excited to see my friends.
A Fabulous Tuesday and Down With An Irish TraditionI don't really know history or the liturgy of the above pic but
I needed a nice anti St Patty's Day sentiment to start this blog.
Let's review why this is a moronic holiday:
1. It is an excuse for people for people to get smashed beyond
recognition and to take in more amounts of alcohol than their
bodies can withstand.
2. Being Irish becomes a fad as opposed to delving into the
true history, conquests and struggles of Irish folk.
3. Every establishment you try to frequent will be jammed
with idiotic, foolish children who can't make eye contact
with you because they are sloshed and stink like chicken
wings, vodka and recycled alcohol that is seeping through
their pores.
That's why St Patty's day sucks.
I had a great day today. I had the chance to work for my dad
and move some boxes around in a dusty basement. I have a
bit of an idyllic view of my dad's office. I have spent many
hours of my life there, grinding away to help commoners get
decent tax returns from Revenue Canada. One of the things
I love about working with my dad is that it gives me a chance
to hang out with him and chat about everything and
absolutely nothing at all. Another great thing about working
for my dad is my relationship with ex-NHL grinder Laurie
Boschman. He works on the same floor as my dad and any
chance I get to pick his brain on the inner workings of the
NHL, I exploit at all costs (to the point of him sometimes
getting droopy eyed).
I had the chance to have lunch with dad and Laurie today.
It was a great time. We all swapped some stories. I actually
even forgot where I was for a little while. That's the good
stuff.
This week is turning out alright. Right now, I am hangin'
out on Anti-St. Patty's day with Sarah and a few of her
friends from teacher's college in our tiny apartment.
The Colour Of Monday
Monday is generally a day where I think my week will
normalize...but it never happens. No matter how grand
my plans are to really map out the coming week and
get a handle on things, other off-map items seem to
crop up and knock things out of whack.
I'm in an office surrounded by books. The shelves
above this computer are 6 tiers high. Working at a
church, I get to see the gamut of literature from a
12 edition set of 'The Expositors Bible Commentary'
to 'Elements of N.T. Greek' to Dostoyevsky's 'The
Idiot'. I wonder how much time was put into one
of these texts, let alone a whole room of them. I feel
the vice of time tighten. We hurtle towards the end
which could come at any moment. The books
continue to inhabit space...untouched...dusty...and
will most likely be there beyond my passing.
I'm not sure how this week will shape up. I have an
idea of how I'd like it to be but in the end, my
wishes and likes aren't always actualized. The
forecast says the weather is supposed to be
admirable. Pleasant. Sunny.
'Stop reading books. Replace the pages of these
books you would have read with life lessons.'
Management Speak
The above is a pic I pulled off google images. I typed in the
search field 'annoying managers'. Why must we let ordinary
life be filled with this sort of management-speak? It never
accomplishes anything and is always devoid of progress or
movement forward.
The flagging system is pretty hilarious. If you've never
been exposed to this sort of lingo, flags are a way to show
someone to use caution without actually saying the phrase
'please be careful' or 'you might want to have some caution
there'. Instead, you can give someone a 'yellow flag' which
means 'be careful' without actually saying the direct words.
Or, if they're really a bad person, you give them a 'red
flag' which basically means 'stop'.
I was recently in a conversation where a person said they
wanted to wave a 'yellow flag' as I should be careful in
what I'm doing within a specific situation. Even though
the rest of the conversation was really beneficial and
positive, that statement made me feel pretty inhumane
and almost robotic. I think this is because of my exposure
to horrible management practices during my 3 year period
at the call centre.
Management in North America within mid-level
companies is often a crap-shoot. Companies invent their
own bibles of lingo or get 'world-famous' managers to
send them documentation and power-point presentations
about how to be better managers when, in actuality,
everyone in management is just sort of making things
up as they go along...kinda like a choose-your-own-
adventure.
Bunk. Just a thought.
Where Have All The Good People Gone?Tonight was a night. A night and a half. The thing about being dedicated
to a band and performing and working at music and re-playing riffs of
songs that break into bridges until you hate them and crafting vocals
and re-thinking volume levels and breaking strings and making your
vocal chords hurt and positioning amps correctly and choreographing
when bandmates should and shouldn't play...is that it takes time.
Everything in this life takes time but the real question is: 'What is
time and how does it relate to me?'
Sometimes, after our band gets together, we go out for a night on the
town to be together, drink some spirits and dine in community. There
is a great feeling and good sense of accomplishment when that happens.
We did that tonight in Montreal. Good old Montreal. The Mount
Royal has a newly renovated cross on the top of it. It shines and has
a lot of lights on it. Montreal is a little too big for me but truly...no
one gives a rat's ass how you look or what you are doing. It's different
from Ottawa in the sense that morality is a little more loose. Last
call is 3 am as opposed to the 2 am of Ontario. It's a lot bigger than
Ottawa in sheer sprawling space and has more haunts to search out.
We all need to go through some dark nights of the soul. I think I
got some answers tonight.
Landon nearly picked up a 37 year old lady and closed the
altercation with 'Hey - you're probably old enough to be my high
school teacher!'. She apparently walked away. If you're ever in
Montreal near McKibbin's, look for a bartender named Kevin.
He truly is the one-armed bandit.
Don't waste time.
A New DaySometimes a new day can bring many things. The promise of hope.
Forgiveness. Freshly ground coffee. A new perspective. A good
night's sleep is like the master switch or reset button on the
machine of life. We get a new chance with each waking moment
to set things right.
Other times, hitting that alarm clock snooze because we know
what is coming can be a real bitch. Either way you spin it - it's a
chance.
I had the chance to meet with someone today and set a few things
right. It was good. Last summer was a very difficult summer for
myself and my wife and though I've hinted at it at times, it really
sucked. To break the surface on the depth of the issues wouldn't
do any good but just know that it was a struggle and an uphill
grind to stay where we stayed last summer. This person I met
with today could be considered a purveyor of bad vibes from that
time in our lives and I was glad to at least make forward progress
in the direction of reconciling. Careful - don't use that word
(reconciliation) unless you really know what it means. Many
use it lightly. I try my best to respect its depth (almost like
sailors who are comfortable with water but who still possess a
healthy fear of the sea) and use it lightly.
Anyways, things are at least moving forward. It's a good feeling
to get an old, rusted train back on the rails.
A wise man once said to me 'Because we are so messed up as
humans, reconciliation is the most beautiful thing we can do'.
We weren't meant to slug around with so much shit, hurt,
malcontent, unforgiveness and negative juice in our lives. I
truly believe that. I'm not saying we can live without it - that
stuff will always plague the human condition. But if we don't
find ways to deal with and properly medicate those things
(without the use of North American medication), we are
stuck.
I'm thankful for today.
Cookies And CrackersThe term 'washed-up' usually refers to someone who is far past
their prime but still doing the same thing to gain attention and/or
money. It's also usually defined by the cast who makes up each
season of 'Celebrity Apprentice'.
Isn't Tom Green too young to be washed up? In some ways, yes.
In others, I think this Ottawa-born local wacked-out figure
has been through more of a ringer than many hollywood types
will endure in a lifetime. And the weird thing is...how does one
define Tom Green? He's definitely not an actor...but he's acted
in many films. He's definitely not a comedian...but he had his
comedy shows for years. He's definitely not a rapper...but he
was in a fairly popular rap group in Ottawa in his teens/early
twenties (Organized Rhyme) and started re-releasing some new
old-school style rap music last year.
He's an embodiment of sorts. He signifies the journeyman
aspect of media.
Anyways - I'm not quite sure where I was going with that. I
didn't intend to write for so long about Tom Green (although
he is a part of this city's heritage and rightfully so, I think).
I'm chillin this afternoon. I have a board meeting tonight and
another meeting tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to either
but I will make do. I lent 'Synecdoche' to Owen and he said he
loved it. If you want to hear a great review my friend wrote
about that film a while back, go to his
audio postand give it a listen.
Today was one of the coldest walks home that I have
experienced since December. It is March 12. Everyone seems
to be confused and upset. I will never be confused by Canadian
winter. It is the great X factor.
Longing For Humanity
If you haven't yet seen Charlie Kaufman's 'Synecdoche New
York', I highly recommend you do so. This film borders on
the threshold of bizarre and then moves comfortably into
surreality. It is a work like no other and a film I will think
about for years to come. I plan to write a full review
herevery soon.
I watched this movie as I fell asleep last night. Granted -
that was not the best time of day to process something of
this magnitude but Sarah and I both stayed fairly glued
to the screen until after 2 am.
Without the use of any spoilers, this film talks a lot about
life as a complete work of art. It made me think of many
things and ask myself many questions.
Am I satisfied with where I am right now? Do I plan too
far ahead instead of living for the moment? Will I ever
put my time and resources into something truly important
and ground-breaking? Do I care and love the people
around me and tell them that enough? Will the key to
my odd code be shown to me in the next life and allow
me make sense of what is happening?
Humanity is what interests me. To exist only in a spiritual
realm is to deny this 'mortal coil' that entangles all of us.
We are who we are and where we are. To speak of things
extra-worldly without first being rooted within the body
is like a math teacher who is a genius but who does not
have the first inkling as to how to teach a room full of
students. We must start within our own skin, socks and
gitch and bounce heavenward from there. We are the
base - the clay. To speak about moral aptitudes without
showing your true colours is false.
I struggle in the balance of showing too much colour...and
not showing enough. Humanity is a constant battle of
balance. How closely can we walk a line? Diplomacy.
Objectiveness. Impartiality. These words plague us and
turn us into robots...and yet we long for them at the
same time.
'Paradoxicality'. Midaswell invent a new word. It might
mean more.
Make PeaceKnow the things you have done - both good and bad.
Accept them.
Make peace with them.
Move on.
Connectivity
Life can be lonely and we can find ourselves looking for community
and connection in many different ways. Even in the midst of a sea
of people, we may not be very plugged into that many people.
I've been fortunate enough to meet some great people in my life
and these people have run the race beside me - supporting me
and cheering me on. It is a very fulfilling and rewarding thing. This
year, especially, I've been blessed to meet some new musician
friends within Ottawa. There is a great and emergent scene
happening here. I like most musicians - they are my kinda peeps.
Then again, musicians can be real pricks, too. Nevermind.
My friend Meredith opened for Jim Bryson last night. Meredith
is a great and burgeoning singer/songwriter. I've also come to
know (and work in the same building with) another guy named
Dean. Dean has been an awesome guy to get to know and
has helped me form some great and creative work (basically
for free) in his pro studio. He is also a great dude just to have
a beer with. I also met Marc Charron today. Marc is a different
fellow...but he is someone you won't forget meeting. He is
passionate about music and loves to play live or just listen
to old Phish tapes.
I have also been blessed to be a part of musical family. My
brother has been a top-shelf bassist for years and can play
a mean guitar and hard drumbeat. If he gets his stuff together
with some guys he's playing with now, it will be interesting
to see what happens with his music career.
Music is my heart. It is the centre of my being and it is what
I live for. It breaks your heart. It gets your hopes up. It can
let you down, hard. It makes me work. It helps me to create.
I'm glad to be a part of whatever it is that is going down
here in O town. I'll keep ya posted. My friend Derrick's
band (The Gentlemen Husbands) are supposedly playing
a gig tonight at Zaphod's. It's free. Come out if you can.
Should be good.
Hate Mongering
I'm against hatred. Hatred (as defined by Webster's) is 'Strong
aversion; intense dislike; hate; an affection of the mind awakened by
something regarded as evil.' I don't know that hatred ever does any
good...for any of us. I guess I see hatred as a fixed state - an
unchangeable feeling. I don't see anything wrong with dislike
because sometimes we just don't like people...or we dislike someone
who we thought we liked only to like them more down the road.
Hatred is usually provoked by repeated action - it doesn't usually
manifest out of the blue.
There has been a bit of hate mongering going on in my past few
blogs and if I helped to perpetuate or fuel anyone's hatred, I am
sorry. That's not what I want to spend my life doing. There were a
few comments flying around that were not very constructive. If we
can't help construct when we dislike, we move easily into hatred
which is all about destroying and defaming.
Hatred is a waste of time and something that feeds and fuels many.
It allows one to stay in a stuck position without any argument. I
even think that debating causes hatred for debating itself only
tends to cause those who debate each other to become deeper
entrenched into their initial views. When have you ever seen an
accomplished/educational debate come to an understanding or
middle ground? I saw many debates in University and watched
older men and women stick to their guns...but to what avail?
Hatred is largely emotionally based as within hatred, one's
emotions get the better of their inclination to reason.
I want nothing to do with hate, if I can help it. Life is too short.
I'm sorry.
Feelin' SpaceySome people are idiots and that's the way it is. There is nothing
we can do to change that simplistic truth. We can fight the powers
of idiocy all we want but in the end, the battle has already been
won. Idiots love idiocy because it is a mode they are stuck
within - no one can help them out of that mode save for
themselves.
God exists. This is a finite truth. God is a an experienceable
being that objectifies power beyond the human realm. I believe
that God is a relational God and beyond gender. Choose what
you want but don't tell me how to live my life and how much
you know about Jesus when you've obviously chosen something
different for yourself. I can't change the fact that human hurt
and suffering goes on - get over it, for fuck sake. God is a
whole other realm that is waiting to be tapped into but
you choose to disbelieve it because someone who told you
that it is a good realm screwed you over.
If it's humans who bother you, take out your frustration on
humans - not on the realm that is beyond you. There's so
much more that you could be doing. You dwindle. You spark
and fade. Truth is, I do too. We all do. The human element
sucks. But don't discredit something that nags at the corners
of your subconscious...because it won't stop.
Don't tell me how much you know about Jesus. Your line is
a bullshit act and everyone sees through it. Everyone. You
fight so hard against something that you ultimately believe
to be true.
Give up, already. Time's a wastin'.
Tired As F*ck/ObsessionYeah, that's right - I'm tired as f*ck, okay? Sometimes Jesus
was too.
I've been blogging pretty late in the day - I realize this. Here
are my thoughts on the film: amazing. It was true to the novel
and still fresh and exciting on screen (and you didn't feel
cheated). I can see why it's only getting 3 stars across the
board, though, because there are times where it lulls but
in the book, it's the same dilemma - amazing sequences
mixed with some pretty inane ones. Rorschach takes the
cake.
I am obsessed with The Watchmen and this fever has hit
my friend/bandmate/housemate Owen as well. He was
talking about how he couldn't stop thinking about it
after he saw it. I fully concur.
I still have a job (for now). I have three jobs but one of them
has been a little stressful lately and I'm considering panning
the whole thing.
I really need to go to bed. It's nice being home from the bar
pre-3:30 am. It feels like a normal friday night.
Ben Gresik is in town. God bless that little bugger.
Tonight's The Night
It's finally here. No more waiting. The souls of those
imprisoned will finally be set free. Your day is here.
Your cries out for truth have been heard. No more
trying to fit in or pretending not to care - the fence
will be broken and a side will have to be taken.
Okay - maybe that's pushing it. It should be an
'awesome-as-balls' event. Whatever happen, I will
be very tired tomorrow.
For those of you who know nothing about The
Watchmen, I'd encourage you to read the actual
graphic novel. I'm not a comic guy at all but I really
dug into this book last fall. It's so odd...yet riveting.
It's wacked...and realistic. It's many things.
I'm sure the movie may not match a lot of comic
nerds' expectations but it will be an event. A 2 hour
and 50 minute event.
Are you getting bored of Canal blogs?Yes - I skated home again today. Don't whine - you
won't have to hear about the canal for much longer. The
weather is taking a warm upturn from here. It was one
of my last chances to hit the ice. Honestly, the effect is
sort of being lost on me now. Ice. I know - it's late in the
day and I haven't had a chance to blog. What's that? Yeah -
I might be fired from Friday's. Why? Only because the
owner is a big sack of poop. Scratch that: Drunken
poop. Don't worry, though. I will give updates on ALL
of that info when I have something substantial to give.
Right now, I am contemplating a few things. I watched
The Hour tonight (while having a night cap with Caleb
and drinking Dan's whiskey) and it made me think
about the recession. Recession. Blah - what a buzz word
of useless proportion. The root of the word comes from
the word 'recess' which basically conjures up images of
schoolyard snowball fights, crushed juice boxes and
getting gravel embedded into my knees. Richard Florida
was Strombo's guest. He was an interesting listen and
I plan to delve into some of his writing soon. He
basically said what I've been saying to people forever:
RENT! Don't BUY a HOUSE!' If you're smart with
your money, renting is a cost-effective way to save
money and to live close to a city core. Buy a house and
become house-poor.
The choice is yours.
Status seems to prevail in North America, though, and
although every clear-thinking economist waves flags in
the faces of those who want to buy a house...people still
do it. Amazing.
Tomorrow should be stellar. I plan to sleep like a wee
suckling babe wrapped in sleeper pajamas tonight. We
all know what tomorrow is...don't we? DON'T WE?
The Dinner Plans
Be trendy. Throw on a scarf - who cares if you are a man? Dip
your chicken satays in beer. Eat fries. Drink mulled wine. Move
to Toronto. Forget your friends. Stay in the pulsing city. Hide
there.
Follow what every one else says is 'hip' and NEVER do your
own thing.
Read SPIN magazine and download what they tell you download.
Get a vasectomy.
Have 2 kids before you are 31.
Go to the meeting house.
Never think about where trends originate - just stay in the
cut of the cloth.
The Beginning Is The End Is The BeginningI'm excited about a few things. In order to lay out in more detail why I
feel the way I do, though, I think it is necessary to backpedal and give
you some insight into my day.
I slept in. I woke up to Sarah saying 'Oh Sh*T! It's 10 AM!' as she
needed to be at a class for 8 and I needed to be at work for 9. We both
kind of wilted but got up and put our life machines into action. I hit
the sidewalk and was off to work (while realizing I forgot my gloves
on the coldest day in over a month).
I had lunch with my mom. My mom, though I haven't always clicked
with her super-well, is a woman of wisdom and it's been great to
connect with her on a few lunches this year. I told her about a
situation that has come up recently concerning one of my places
of my employment. She basically helped me to calm down and
realize that 'jobs are jobs - sometimes things are supposed to
change'.
Later today, I had another meeting which I was not looking so
admirably towards. It was with a friend who's been in my life
for a while and someone who I'm trying to build something with.
A community. Yeah - build one of those and get back to me.
Anyways, the meeting actually went really well. We talked and
got some things into the open that needed to be aired and did
some forgiving...and moved forwards. The sun set as he drove
me home.
I just got home an hour ago and talked with Sarah about these
meetings (and how I may already have another job lined up)
and we both felt hopeful. It was a good day...and it's not even
over yet.
When things happen and we feel 'cheated' or 'hurt' or 'jabbed',
there is always a flipside to the coin. We can't predict how
others will act. Sometimes you just have to stick your thumb
back out and hitch another ride on the highway of life because
ultimately, you will end up where you are supposed to end up.
Some days, it's so simple.
It's All Gonna Break
I can hear the hum of the desktop computer. Sarah is fast
asleep and tired from her trip home. I'm beginning
to wonder if peace is really a myth that evades me.
Unrest abounds.
Over the last few years, I have been placed in some
situations where serious injustice has gone on and I have
found myself put in positions where I have had to take
a side and fight. It's wearing. I wish I could take a vacation
and stick my feet in the ocean. Now that I've experienced
the feeling of fighting for what's right a few times,
though, I must admit - it is a bit of a drug. I would
categorize the drug as being hallucinogenic because
everywhere I look now, I see injustice and the need
and call for me to step up and fight. If I truly and
honestly adhere to Jesus and his teachings, I cannot
ignore the fact that he spent a lot of his time opposing
and challenging the powers of complacency and comfort.
He was peaceful...but he also flipped tables when the
time was right.
Something happened today that I can't fully talk about
but I want you all to know that I am in a fight. It is going
to be hard-pressed, dirty and trench-based but it must
happen. For a long time, I thought being peaceful meant
dodging conflict. Now I see the need to fight those
who have, for too long, preyed on those not strong
enough to fight back.
I'll be thinking of you all as I prep for battle.
More to come.
