Tonight I stayed in with the old wreck-chords. I discovered that the song Pete Yorn sang on the Shrek 2 soundtrack was actually a cover of a Fine Young Cannibals song. Just goes to show that you learn somethin everyday. I like the Yorn version better.
Anyone lookin for a reality check should read this.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Friday, May 27, 2005
I'm tired of lookin round rooms wonderin what I gotta do, or who I'm supposed to be
I got off work today at about 1:30 which was awesome. Just sat around and cleaned up the construction yard all day anyway, so it felt like a really long day even though it was short.
Finally figured out what that catchy tune was that was stuck in my head. I remembered the beat and stuff, but no words. Then some words came to me and I found it on the web. The guy's name is Gavin Degraw. At first I thought he was a country singer, with a name like that. I think he's an indy rocker-style dude from New York though. And the song's called "I Don't Wanna Be". Pretty mint song, and he's got a few other good ones too.
Not much going on at the moment, just getting started at organizing the old man's 900+ records. Tons of bands I've never heard of, but some classic albums have popped up already.
Sidenote: if you say "Mike Weir" it sounds like you're saying "my queer"
By the looks of it Monty, Arden, and I are going out for a few pints tonight. I expect a few more to come with, but who knows. I've only had a few nights of drinking since the end of school, which is pretty odd for me. But I guess it's easier to drink alot when you don't have to be up at any certain time, like during the school year. Mid-week drinkathons are now out of the question when we have to get up at 6 a.m. daily.
Not much else to say at the moment, so I'm getting back to the vinyls.
Finally figured out what that catchy tune was that was stuck in my head. I remembered the beat and stuff, but no words. Then some words came to me and I found it on the web. The guy's name is Gavin Degraw. At first I thought he was a country singer, with a name like that. I think he's an indy rocker-style dude from New York though. And the song's called "I Don't Wanna Be". Pretty mint song, and he's got a few other good ones too.
Not much going on at the moment, just getting started at organizing the old man's 900+ records. Tons of bands I've never heard of, but some classic albums have popped up already.
Sidenote: if you say "Mike Weir" it sounds like you're saying "my queer"
By the looks of it Monty, Arden, and I are going out for a few pints tonight. I expect a few more to come with, but who knows. I've only had a few nights of drinking since the end of school, which is pretty odd for me. But I guess it's easier to drink alot when you don't have to be up at any certain time, like during the school year. Mid-week drinkathons are now out of the question when we have to get up at 6 a.m. daily.
Not much else to say at the moment, so I'm getting back to the vinyls.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
The beginning of the "Top 5" Lists
If anyone's seen High Fidelity you know what I'm talking about with the Top 5's. If not, go see it now. "No", you say? In that case go fuck yourself.
In the weeks before I started work I had alot of time on my hands. That meant I could finally drag my ass to the gym and get back to my goal. I wanna be 160 lbs by the end of the summer, we'll see how that goes.
But returning to the gym routine reminded me of all the annoying assholes that work out alot. Hence, I have made a list of the top 5 most annoying personalities at the gym:
5) The Uninformed: This person has no idea what is going on. Every machine and dumbbell seems to be an enigma, but they try to look smooth when using them. Sometimes they'll watch from a distance until someone inadvertently shows them the right way. Rarely do they ask for help though. The funny part is, next time they show up at the gym they've somehow forgotten all that had been learned previously.
4) The Watcher: This person meanders around the gym doing as little as humanly possible, but always seems to be peeking over your shoulder. How much weight is he lifting? How fast is he running? Where's he going to next? Here's a hint: worry about yourself jerk.
3) The Struggler: These people, generally men, think they possess more power or stamina than they actually do. They try to lift too much weight or run for far too long, and the body can't deal with it. It's pretty obvious when they almost collapse after stepping off the treadmill, or are unable to move their limbs after wrecking them with 20 lbs too much, that they should ease off a bit. Noone really cares if you can curl 25 pounds or 30 pounds. Take it easy champ.
2) The Mountain Climber: No sexism intended, but I've only ever seen women do this. This person sets the incline of the treadmill to max height, grabs onto the handles of the machine, leans back as far as they can, and proceeds to hike up the hill with the handrail bearing a great deal of their body weight. Not only is this a stupid way to get fit, you also look like an asshole in the process honey.
1) The Musclehead (aka The Tough Guy, The Jerkoff, etc.): This guy's a real fuckin hero. All the ladies want him (at least in his mind). He walks around with his arms spread out a foot from either side of his ribcage. Hes got the armband radio, the gelled hair, the Underarmor worn on the outside. My favorite part about this guy is when he stares intensely at the floor between sets, as if there's somethin really interesting down there. The fact of the matter is that everyone else thinks you're a joke pal. You think we look at you with envy, but we're actually just laughing on the inside. Invest in a personality, and stop flexing that muscle in your temple. Maybe some blood will get to your brain that way.
So that's my list. Kinda cheesy I must admit, but that's what's been on my mind.
Gotta go get some errands done.
In the weeks before I started work I had alot of time on my hands. That meant I could finally drag my ass to the gym and get back to my goal. I wanna be 160 lbs by the end of the summer, we'll see how that goes.
But returning to the gym routine reminded me of all the annoying assholes that work out alot. Hence, I have made a list of the top 5 most annoying personalities at the gym:
5) The Uninformed: This person has no idea what is going on. Every machine and dumbbell seems to be an enigma, but they try to look smooth when using them. Sometimes they'll watch from a distance until someone inadvertently shows them the right way. Rarely do they ask for help though. The funny part is, next time they show up at the gym they've somehow forgotten all that had been learned previously.
4) The Watcher: This person meanders around the gym doing as little as humanly possible, but always seems to be peeking over your shoulder. How much weight is he lifting? How fast is he running? Where's he going to next? Here's a hint: worry about yourself jerk.
3) The Struggler: These people, generally men, think they possess more power or stamina than they actually do. They try to lift too much weight or run for far too long, and the body can't deal with it. It's pretty obvious when they almost collapse after stepping off the treadmill, or are unable to move their limbs after wrecking them with 20 lbs too much, that they should ease off a bit. Noone really cares if you can curl 25 pounds or 30 pounds. Take it easy champ.
2) The Mountain Climber: No sexism intended, but I've only ever seen women do this. This person sets the incline of the treadmill to max height, grabs onto the handles of the machine, leans back as far as they can, and proceeds to hike up the hill with the handrail bearing a great deal of their body weight. Not only is this a stupid way to get fit, you also look like an asshole in the process honey.
1) The Musclehead (aka The Tough Guy, The Jerkoff, etc.): This guy's a real fuckin hero. All the ladies want him (at least in his mind). He walks around with his arms spread out a foot from either side of his ribcage. Hes got the armband radio, the gelled hair, the Underarmor worn on the outside. My favorite part about this guy is when he stares intensely at the floor between sets, as if there's somethin really interesting down there. The fact of the matter is that everyone else thinks you're a joke pal. You think we look at you with envy, but we're actually just laughing on the inside. Invest in a personality, and stop flexing that muscle in your temple. Maybe some blood will get to your brain that way.
So that's my list. Kinda cheesy I must admit, but that's what's been on my mind.
Gotta go get some errands done.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
I was looking for a job and then I found a job. And heaven knows I'm miserable now.
"In my life, why do I smile at people who I'd much rather kick in the eye?" Another gem of a lyric from The Smiths. Rock on.
So this past weekend was pretty sweet up at MacCrae Lake. We're known as the MacCrae Lake Muckers, and we have shirts and jackets to prove it. It's a guy thing (I don't expect Gow or Kozzy to understand).
Anyway, for once we got some good weather for the old May 2-4. Usually it's cold, windy as fuck, or pissing rain on us. Besides the harassment from some bugs it was good this year. Fishing was a bit shitty, but that's no big deal. We mainly go to just booze and take er easy anyway.
Friday night I got into some delightful mushrooms and copious amounts of beer. By the end of the night Fry from Futurama emerged from the stars and talked to me. Can't recall our conversation really. For some reason the rocks surrounding the fire kinda looked like Jordy and Worf from Star Trek too. They didn't talk though. And I also think my future self traveled back in time to give me some advice. Again, the words are lost to me now.
Needless to say, I was pretty useless all day Saturday. I got dragged out of my sleeping bag at 10 (still drunk) to go pick up my brother at the river that leads into the lake. I was pretty much out of it the whole day.
This year was a much smaller group than we've ever had. We usually have 25 or so, and this year there were only 11 of us in there. Some guys are getting to be too old for this kind of thing anymore, heart conditions and shit. And some said that last year's rain-fest was too much, and pussed out this year. Go figure it was good weather.
So we drank and fished and slept and drank till monday morning when we packed up for home. You can only get to this lake by boat really, and we have to drag all the boats over this big rock to ride them down a river/rapids dealie to get them into more open waters. Same goes for the trip in, but on the way out I'm usually the one who has to be in the damn boats as they fly downstream towards rocks and certain death. They send me cuz I'm such a featherweight. Sometimes it's fun though. Plus it means less walking for me.
On to bigger and better things...
Finally started work yesterday at my construction job. Yesterday was freezing cold in the wind and today was hot as fuck. Got me a nice forearm sunburn already. In two days I've worked 22 hours. Fuck that shee-at. And I don't even know my wage yet, but I expect it's decent cuz it's labour and they usually pay well if you're made to break your back all day. Today I was layin' pipe. All night long. Just to satisfy that woman! Is that Wilcox? I can't remember, but it is a funny song. Innuendos and soforth.
So now I'm tired as hell and must get some sleep. At this rate I'll be working overtime on a bloody 4 day week. Brutal, but I hope I'm all buff and stuff by the end of the summer. After all, I have been eating like a hungry hungry hippo these past 2 days. Except I don't eat marbles.
"I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, but heaven knows I'm miserable now."
So this past weekend was pretty sweet up at MacCrae Lake. We're known as the MacCrae Lake Muckers, and we have shirts and jackets to prove it. It's a guy thing (I don't expect Gow or Kozzy to understand).
Anyway, for once we got some good weather for the old May 2-4. Usually it's cold, windy as fuck, or pissing rain on us. Besides the harassment from some bugs it was good this year. Fishing was a bit shitty, but that's no big deal. We mainly go to just booze and take er easy anyway.
Friday night I got into some delightful mushrooms and copious amounts of beer. By the end of the night Fry from Futurama emerged from the stars and talked to me. Can't recall our conversation really. For some reason the rocks surrounding the fire kinda looked like Jordy and Worf from Star Trek too. They didn't talk though. And I also think my future self traveled back in time to give me some advice. Again, the words are lost to me now.
Needless to say, I was pretty useless all day Saturday. I got dragged out of my sleeping bag at 10 (still drunk) to go pick up my brother at the river that leads into the lake. I was pretty much out of it the whole day.
This year was a much smaller group than we've ever had. We usually have 25 or so, and this year there were only 11 of us in there. Some guys are getting to be too old for this kind of thing anymore, heart conditions and shit. And some said that last year's rain-fest was too much, and pussed out this year. Go figure it was good weather.
So we drank and fished and slept and drank till monday morning when we packed up for home. You can only get to this lake by boat really, and we have to drag all the boats over this big rock to ride them down a river/rapids dealie to get them into more open waters. Same goes for the trip in, but on the way out I'm usually the one who has to be in the damn boats as they fly downstream towards rocks and certain death. They send me cuz I'm such a featherweight. Sometimes it's fun though. Plus it means less walking for me.
On to bigger and better things...
Finally started work yesterday at my construction job. Yesterday was freezing cold in the wind and today was hot as fuck. Got me a nice forearm sunburn already. In two days I've worked 22 hours. Fuck that shee-at. And I don't even know my wage yet, but I expect it's decent cuz it's labour and they usually pay well if you're made to break your back all day. Today I was layin' pipe. All night long. Just to satisfy that woman! Is that Wilcox? I can't remember, but it is a funny song. Innuendos and soforth.
So now I'm tired as hell and must get some sleep. At this rate I'll be working overtime on a bloody 4 day week. Brutal, but I hope I'm all buff and stuff by the end of the summer. After all, I have been eating like a hungry hungry hippo these past 2 days. Except I don't eat marbles.
"I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, but heaven knows I'm miserable now."
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Monday, May 16, 2005
If you keep forcing the maple, eventually she'll take it!
Judging by this past weekend, it's gonna be one mint fuckin summer.
Friday night was the annual Fitch BBQ down in TO. It seemed like a long time since I'd seen the London crew, and it was nice to hang out for the night. Nothing overly special happened that night, except for a bunch of us nailing or heads off the door frames. It was the general consensus that the house was built for leprechauns or dwarves. Pumpkin (the cat) was in fine form, growling and hissing alot. I think she hates me most of all.
This year we actually went to a bar since everyone was of age. And most of us were feeling it the next day. A select few of us raided the cookie jar after a nature walk too. All in all, a good night. Oh ya! Forgot to mention that Leigh busted out the stunning "hyena" laugh too. Funny shit!
Saturday I drove down to St Catherines for the first of many trips this summer. Hung out with my bro and Calder for a bit at the start of the day. Colleen was there too, it's been awhile since I've seen her. Apparently she had the impression that in highschool I was a saint. I had the same view of her. Turns out neither of us actually was, so we were both kinda surprised.
I also got to talk to Mangela (my bro's lady friend) more than I did last time I saw her. That was good also. Thankfully my mom has stopped harassing me about her. "What does she look like?" "Is she smart?" "What's her cup size?" I don't fucking know! Leave me alone!
Now onto more important things. Deuce Dale, Calder, Ryan and I gave our best shot at the century club before anyone showed up to party. Obviously Dale made it, no surprise that Calder did too, but Fintarcy hit 87 then puked in the garden. What a waste of a tasty sausage. I think I made it into the 90s and got a sudden surge of the spits, so I had to quit. Granted, I was hungover when we started, but that's no excuse for a lackluster performance. It was my first time trying the century, so I'm confident I'll make it next time.
Alot of people actually showed up for the night, so we had to get two poker tables going. In my game Ryan lost early, Pascal did his best to throw his money away in a stupor, Calder lost when he should've won, Devreede hung in till the end, and some other guy did too. Naturally I won. hahaha. We did have to split the pot though, cuz we had to get to the bar.
Thompson kept bugging me to rock out to the Mars Volta, but I was pretty hammered and too involved in the poker game. Sorry about that man. He was a sober joke though, so I don't feel so bad.
We went to My Cottage where I'm told that I said a few funny things. The whole night I introduced myself as Mintvis, but at the bar I started singing "Save a horse, ride a Mintvis" which was funny to everyone else apparently. And Angela advised my to use the pickup line of "I'm giving away free sperm samples, want one?" or something to that effect. ThankfullyI didn't use it.
After the bar Dale, Ryan, Angela, and I were the last ones remaining, and we couldn't find a cab so we had to walk home. At least for awhile. I began to make Angela a bouquet of stolen tulips and other things. I kept pushing the maple branch but she wasn't keen on it. "If you keep forcing the maple, eventually she'll take it!" I said. Yet for every twig of maple I yanked down, Dale saw the need to pull down a limb. He brought down alot of timber, believe me.
We did catch a cab to the mall near 125, but we stopped to get some food. Then we walked the rest of the way home, Dale with a shopping cart, and me talkin' shit to mail boxes. They didn't stand a chance against my mighty kick. We grabbed a few pilons too, and put them in the cart. The cart was ditched in the boulevard by 125, under the power lines.
Everyone hit the beds when we got home, but I stayed up and talked to Caley's young lady friend. Thankfully I didn't hit on her (at least that I can remember) cuz I didn't know they were together. A couple girls came up to the kitchen and said to Caley that some big guy was passed out in the be they had shotgunned. To this I proclaimed "MIKE DAAAAAAAALE!" Then I went to bed.
The next day we watched from the kitchen as a "good samaritan" was about to clean up Dale's shopping cart. Turns out he actually just wanted the pilons. So he took them and left.
I packed up after a long and lazy day, and went home.
The end.
Friday night was the annual Fitch BBQ down in TO. It seemed like a long time since I'd seen the London crew, and it was nice to hang out for the night. Nothing overly special happened that night, except for a bunch of us nailing or heads off the door frames. It was the general consensus that the house was built for leprechauns or dwarves. Pumpkin (the cat) was in fine form, growling and hissing alot. I think she hates me most of all.
This year we actually went to a bar since everyone was of age. And most of us were feeling it the next day. A select few of us raided the cookie jar after a nature walk too. All in all, a good night. Oh ya! Forgot to mention that Leigh busted out the stunning "hyena" laugh too. Funny shit!
Saturday I drove down to St Catherines for the first of many trips this summer. Hung out with my bro and Calder for a bit at the start of the day. Colleen was there too, it's been awhile since I've seen her. Apparently she had the impression that in highschool I was a saint. I had the same view of her. Turns out neither of us actually was, so we were both kinda surprised.
I also got to talk to Mangela (my bro's lady friend) more than I did last time I saw her. That was good also. Thankfully my mom has stopped harassing me about her. "What does she look like?" "Is she smart?" "What's her cup size?" I don't fucking know! Leave me alone!
Now onto more important things. Deuce Dale, Calder, Ryan and I gave our best shot at the century club before anyone showed up to party. Obviously Dale made it, no surprise that Calder did too, but Fintarcy hit 87 then puked in the garden. What a waste of a tasty sausage. I think I made it into the 90s and got a sudden surge of the spits, so I had to quit. Granted, I was hungover when we started, but that's no excuse for a lackluster performance. It was my first time trying the century, so I'm confident I'll make it next time.
Alot of people actually showed up for the night, so we had to get two poker tables going. In my game Ryan lost early, Pascal did his best to throw his money away in a stupor, Calder lost when he should've won, Devreede hung in till the end, and some other guy did too. Naturally I won. hahaha. We did have to split the pot though, cuz we had to get to the bar.
Thompson kept bugging me to rock out to the Mars Volta, but I was pretty hammered and too involved in the poker game. Sorry about that man. He was a sober joke though, so I don't feel so bad.
We went to My Cottage where I'm told that I said a few funny things. The whole night I introduced myself as Mintvis, but at the bar I started singing "Save a horse, ride a Mintvis" which was funny to everyone else apparently. And Angela advised my to use the pickup line of "I'm giving away free sperm samples, want one?" or something to that effect. ThankfullyI didn't use it.
After the bar Dale, Ryan, Angela, and I were the last ones remaining, and we couldn't find a cab so we had to walk home. At least for awhile. I began to make Angela a bouquet of stolen tulips and other things. I kept pushing the maple branch but she wasn't keen on it. "If you keep forcing the maple, eventually she'll take it!" I said. Yet for every twig of maple I yanked down, Dale saw the need to pull down a limb. He brought down alot of timber, believe me.
We did catch a cab to the mall near 125, but we stopped to get some food. Then we walked the rest of the way home, Dale with a shopping cart, and me talkin' shit to mail boxes. They didn't stand a chance against my mighty kick. We grabbed a few pilons too, and put them in the cart. The cart was ditched in the boulevard by 125, under the power lines.
Everyone hit the beds when we got home, but I stayed up and talked to Caley's young lady friend. Thankfully I didn't hit on her (at least that I can remember) cuz I didn't know they were together. A couple girls came up to the kitchen and said to Caley that some big guy was passed out in the be they had shotgunned. To this I proclaimed "MIKE DAAAAAAAALE!" Then I went to bed.
The next day we watched from the kitchen as a "good samaritan" was about to clean up Dale's shopping cart. Turns out he actually just wanted the pilons. So he took them and left.
I packed up after a long and lazy day, and went home.
The end.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Performance and Cocktails... minus the cocktails
So the other day Fin and I took a trip to TO for the Stereophonics show at the Phoenix.
We met up with a few of his friends from school, all of whom we're pretty cool. I was worried that they'd be the really eccentric artistic types, but they weren't (which was a good thing). And amazingly I participated in the conversations alot for most of the night. Usually I'm pretty quiet around new faces (unless I'm loaded).
We went out for dinner, and as we sat down in our booth I noticed that my right pinky finger wasn't workin right. Imagine laying your hand down on a table, palm up, with your fingers stretched out flat. For some reason my one finger wouldn't go flat out, and even when I made a fist it gimped out on me. It was pretty freaky, cuz there was no pain involved, and I could use my other hand to make my finger go straight, but it never stayed in position. My first instinct was "fuck, I have leprosy". Thankfully it's back to normal now though. I did have alot of trouble clapping throughout the show tho, I kept crushing my finger between my hands.
So the show was pretty fuckin mint, I do say. They played alot of the new album, as well as alot of stuff from their first, since those were the hardest rockin albums of theirs. I've read a fair bit about how they wanted to get back to a heavier rock sound with the new album, so it wasn't a huge surprise that their lighter stuff wasn't played.
I had no idea that Kelly Jones was such a good guitar player. He had some solid solos, and most of the songs sounded really close to their album stuff. That's the sign of a good band ya know, cuz if they suck live, odds are they did hundreds of takes to get the album sounding perfect.
It's pretty cool to think back to Christmas, when I got my first Phonics album. Since then I've bought all but their latest (cuz I'm outta money). Strangely enough, even though they're one of the biggest band in Great Britain, most people over here have barely heard of em. Shame.
It was a really loud show and my ears are still ringin'. Gotta go get some shit done.
Cheers.
We met up with a few of his friends from school, all of whom we're pretty cool. I was worried that they'd be the really eccentric artistic types, but they weren't (which was a good thing). And amazingly I participated in the conversations alot for most of the night. Usually I'm pretty quiet around new faces (unless I'm loaded).
We went out for dinner, and as we sat down in our booth I noticed that my right pinky finger wasn't workin right. Imagine laying your hand down on a table, palm up, with your fingers stretched out flat. For some reason my one finger wouldn't go flat out, and even when I made a fist it gimped out on me. It was pretty freaky, cuz there was no pain involved, and I could use my other hand to make my finger go straight, but it never stayed in position. My first instinct was "fuck, I have leprosy". Thankfully it's back to normal now though. I did have alot of trouble clapping throughout the show tho, I kept crushing my finger between my hands.
So the show was pretty fuckin mint, I do say. They played alot of the new album, as well as alot of stuff from their first, since those were the hardest rockin albums of theirs. I've read a fair bit about how they wanted to get back to a heavier rock sound with the new album, so it wasn't a huge surprise that their lighter stuff wasn't played.
I had no idea that Kelly Jones was such a good guitar player. He had some solid solos, and most of the songs sounded really close to their album stuff. That's the sign of a good band ya know, cuz if they suck live, odds are they did hundreds of takes to get the album sounding perfect.
It's pretty cool to think back to Christmas, when I got my first Phonics album. Since then I've bought all but their latest (cuz I'm outta money). Strangely enough, even though they're one of the biggest band in Great Britain, most people over here have barely heard of em. Shame.
It was a really loud show and my ears are still ringin'. Gotta go get some shit done.
Cheers.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Courage, my word
In the past few days I'm sure everyone's heard alot about the 60th anniversary of VE-Day and seen tons of movies and shows on TV about World War 2. Considering I have yet to get a job, I spend alot of time checking out stuff on the web and TV. And all of this war stuff gets me thinking about what it would actually have been like if we'd lived back in the late 30's/early 40's.
Most of us really have no idea what the words honour, loss, fear, sacrifice, horror, or courage even mean. We'll likely never have to face a war and risk all that we have just for an idea. That idea was essentially "freedom" in my eyes, however you want to interpret that.
Most of the veterans I've seen on TV lately have expressed one consistency in their thoughts; that they wished that noone would ever have to face war again. I've heard this sentiment echoed by all sides of the war, and from all areas of the political spectrum.
Yet as much as we try to "remember" something we've never experienced first-hand, it's pretty clear that the lessons of the past are fading. Vietnam was a good example of more death that followed WW2, despite the lessons of war that were learned. (as a side note, the anniversary of the Kent State shootings was just last week). Capitalist or Communist, a dead person is just as dead. Genocides have taken place between then and now, some of which have gone largely unnoticed in the "important" parts of the world. And even today the state of affairs in Iraq is just more people killing people... and to what end?
In war, some people get rich, some people get poor. Some gain vast lands and riches; some lose all they once had. And millions die. Nothing disrespects the memories of war veterans like more death. But here we are.
And anyone who says today that they don't take anything for granted is a flat out liar.
Imagine all the boys and men you know shipping off to some distant land to face the unknown. Imagine all the girls and women you know going to work at factories for years just to support a war. Imagine you had to eat the same shitty meals everyday because quality food was too scarce.
Now imagine you lost your cellphone, your computer, your car, or your Louis-fucking-Vitton handbag. Look at all that you've lost! Give me a fucking break. All this inconsequential material shit doesn't mean dick-all in the end. Noones going to bury you with all of your dollar bills and electronics gadgets. You'll likely be laid down peacefully in a cemetery, surrounded by family and friends who'll remember you for the person you were, not the possessions you had.
If nothing else, I wish everyone could take a few minutes out of every day to consider all that we have, most of which we truly don't deserve. And think of all that has been given, just so you can sit there and read these words.
I dunno about anyone else, but it seems pretty humbling to me.
Most of us really have no idea what the words honour, loss, fear, sacrifice, horror, or courage even mean. We'll likely never have to face a war and risk all that we have just for an idea. That idea was essentially "freedom" in my eyes, however you want to interpret that.
Most of the veterans I've seen on TV lately have expressed one consistency in their thoughts; that they wished that noone would ever have to face war again. I've heard this sentiment echoed by all sides of the war, and from all areas of the political spectrum.
Yet as much as we try to "remember" something we've never experienced first-hand, it's pretty clear that the lessons of the past are fading. Vietnam was a good example of more death that followed WW2, despite the lessons of war that were learned. (as a side note, the anniversary of the Kent State shootings was just last week). Capitalist or Communist, a dead person is just as dead. Genocides have taken place between then and now, some of which have gone largely unnoticed in the "important" parts of the world. And even today the state of affairs in Iraq is just more people killing people... and to what end?
In war, some people get rich, some people get poor. Some gain vast lands and riches; some lose all they once had. And millions die. Nothing disrespects the memories of war veterans like more death. But here we are.
And anyone who says today that they don't take anything for granted is a flat out liar.
Imagine all the boys and men you know shipping off to some distant land to face the unknown. Imagine all the girls and women you know going to work at factories for years just to support a war. Imagine you had to eat the same shitty meals everyday because quality food was too scarce.
Now imagine you lost your cellphone, your computer, your car, or your Louis-fucking-Vitton handbag. Look at all that you've lost! Give me a fucking break. All this inconsequential material shit doesn't mean dick-all in the end. Noones going to bury you with all of your dollar bills and electronics gadgets. You'll likely be laid down peacefully in a cemetery, surrounded by family and friends who'll remember you for the person you were, not the possessions you had.
If nothing else, I wish everyone could take a few minutes out of every day to consider all that we have, most of which we truly don't deserve. And think of all that has been given, just so you can sit there and read these words.
I dunno about anyone else, but it seems pretty humbling to me.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Save fate for the good days
Whenever exam time comes around, I always get to thinking about fate. I guess it's because I know that whatever the outcome is, I could've done better if only I had studied more. It always goes that way.
I personally don't believe in fate at all, I think it's bullshit. Merely a convenient excuse when we fail, but magically "the way things should be" when we win.
Some people do believe in fate, some don't, and some claim that the "big things" in life are due to fate, but the rest is just filler and details.
This last theory is a confusing one to me. If all the little choices we make have no bearing on where we'll go to school, where we'll live, who we'll marry, and where we'll work, how can these big things come to pass?
If you decided at the last minute to go to school X instead of school Y, your entire life will change from the path you might've taken otherwise.
If you decide to run a late yellow instead of stopping, you may never meet your future wife or husband cuz you're dead.
If you forget to set your alarm before the first day of your new job, suddenly that dream career of yours is fucked.
Suddenly these little things pile up and start to look alot more important than they did at first glance.
As for the theory of fate being something we're completely stuck with in every aspect of our lives, I pose the following questions: why do you cry when someone dies? why do you regret cheating on your spouse? why do you bitch and complain when you miss the bus?
After all, you had no control over these things right? It was fate.
Mind you, someone once told me that we cry, regret, and bitch because "we're only human". What the fuck kind of answer is that??? Sounds like a cop-out to me. If you've ever wished that you'd done something differently in the past, the mere fact that you're even considering that another outcome was possible shows that you don't really believe in fate at all. (that was a long confusing sentence, to lazy to fix it). Hypocrisy at it's finest...
Anyway, I think there's only one conclusion that really makes any sense: you have control over every little thing in your life, whether you know it or not.
Noone says it's fate when a baby dies in a car crash while the parents survive, but it's not rare to hear people say "what a beautiful couple, they were meant to be together" when they look at newlyweds. Again, I return to the term bullshit.
So save fate for the good days, and call the world a massive tragedy on the bad ones.
That's my opinion anyway.
I personally don't believe in fate at all, I think it's bullshit. Merely a convenient excuse when we fail, but magically "the way things should be" when we win.
Some people do believe in fate, some don't, and some claim that the "big things" in life are due to fate, but the rest is just filler and details.
This last theory is a confusing one to me. If all the little choices we make have no bearing on where we'll go to school, where we'll live, who we'll marry, and where we'll work, how can these big things come to pass?
If you decided at the last minute to go to school X instead of school Y, your entire life will change from the path you might've taken otherwise.
If you decide to run a late yellow instead of stopping, you may never meet your future wife or husband cuz you're dead.
If you forget to set your alarm before the first day of your new job, suddenly that dream career of yours is fucked.
Suddenly these little things pile up and start to look alot more important than they did at first glance.
As for the theory of fate being something we're completely stuck with in every aspect of our lives, I pose the following questions: why do you cry when someone dies? why do you regret cheating on your spouse? why do you bitch and complain when you miss the bus?
After all, you had no control over these things right? It was fate.
Mind you, someone once told me that we cry, regret, and bitch because "we're only human". What the fuck kind of answer is that??? Sounds like a cop-out to me. If you've ever wished that you'd done something differently in the past, the mere fact that you're even considering that another outcome was possible shows that you don't really believe in fate at all. (that was a long confusing sentence, to lazy to fix it). Hypocrisy at it's finest...
Anyway, I think there's only one conclusion that really makes any sense: you have control over every little thing in your life, whether you know it or not.
Noone says it's fate when a baby dies in a car crash while the parents survive, but it's not rare to hear people say "what a beautiful couple, they were meant to be together" when they look at newlyweds. Again, I return to the term bullshit.
So save fate for the good days, and call the world a massive tragedy on the bad ones.
That's my opinion anyway.
Monday, May 02, 2005
The Sum of all Hopes and Fears
Well it's been awhile since I've put up a post, as I've been running around the countryside or sitting around without a computer. So I guess there's a few things to update.
School finsished up with another fucking 9 a.m. exam. I think I wrote every signle final in Thames Hall Gym, which I hate as an exam room. At least it's over now. And then we capped the year with a party down at 291. It was pretty much chaos all night, lots of shit thrown off the balcony, and lots of "cat-calls" yelled from up there (even at old ladies, those sick bastards). Besides a few problems that night, it was pretty fun. Wish I didnt lose my damn jacket though. The next morning was by far the worst hangover I've had this year, maybe the worst ever. Then I raced around all day moving between houses with the boys, but everything worked out fine.
The night before last I got out to the Joel Plaskett show down in Toronto with my bro and old man. It was a pretty sweet show, and it lasted about 3.5 hrs including the sets of Matt Barber and Peter Elkas. I picked up the vinyl of La De Da and got it signed, and my dad got his CD signed too. I also found my lost CD of his the other day, which I'd been missing for months, which is mint.
So now I'm home for the summer, but I'm still jobless. Hopefully I'll get it sorted out this week.
Last night I had a dream that the US declared war on Russia, as they needed something to take the focus off of Iraq. It was as if Cold War II sprung up overnight and the nukes could've fallen at any moment. I also dreamt that I got about 150 more cheques from the bank than I had ordered. I'm not sure how that got mixed in there, but it was one more hassle that I didnt need to worry about, seeing that the world was about to end. I envisioned Bush and Putin with their fingers on the "red buttons" (not just proverbial buttons, but real buttons) just waiting for the other one to crack. Suddenly Ben Afflect sent them both a message that saved the world. Just kidding.
I actually woke up in a bit of a panic, thinking of just how close were were to Buffalo. Cuz afterall, that would be their first target, right?
Anyway, I have a pantload of shit to unpack and get organized here, so I gotta run.
School finsished up with another fucking 9 a.m. exam. I think I wrote every signle final in Thames Hall Gym, which I hate as an exam room. At least it's over now. And then we capped the year with a party down at 291. It was pretty much chaos all night, lots of shit thrown off the balcony, and lots of "cat-calls" yelled from up there (even at old ladies, those sick bastards). Besides a few problems that night, it was pretty fun. Wish I didnt lose my damn jacket though. The next morning was by far the worst hangover I've had this year, maybe the worst ever. Then I raced around all day moving between houses with the boys, but everything worked out fine.
The night before last I got out to the Joel Plaskett show down in Toronto with my bro and old man. It was a pretty sweet show, and it lasted about 3.5 hrs including the sets of Matt Barber and Peter Elkas. I picked up the vinyl of La De Da and got it signed, and my dad got his CD signed too. I also found my lost CD of his the other day, which I'd been missing for months, which is mint.
So now I'm home for the summer, but I'm still jobless. Hopefully I'll get it sorted out this week.
Last night I had a dream that the US declared war on Russia, as they needed something to take the focus off of Iraq. It was as if Cold War II sprung up overnight and the nukes could've fallen at any moment. I also dreamt that I got about 150 more cheques from the bank than I had ordered. I'm not sure how that got mixed in there, but it was one more hassle that I didnt need to worry about, seeing that the world was about to end. I envisioned Bush and Putin with their fingers on the "red buttons" (not just proverbial buttons, but real buttons) just waiting for the other one to crack. Suddenly Ben Afflect sent them both a message that saved the world. Just kidding.
I actually woke up in a bit of a panic, thinking of just how close were were to Buffalo. Cuz afterall, that would be their first target, right?
Anyway, I have a pantload of shit to unpack and get organized here, so I gotta run.
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