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Tuesday, November 25th, 2008
10:13 pm - This shit be frighteningly familiar
I'm drinking too much tea and procrastinating writing an essay. It's like being an undergrad all over again, except that I have to be up at 7 am to go to work. Also, unlike undergrad, the essay isn't due tomorrow, so that's different. I now get these things done two days in advance yo. Let's call it progress.

Of course, it's also echoingly familiar that I'm writing here when I should be writing an essay. This space is tricksome and filled with lush deceit. I feel like I am informing, nay, pontificating, and this act gives the sense of productivity. This is a lie, but a welcome one.

I stumbled into a series of westerns by accident. It all began with Hugh, whom we shall consider friend although really our knowledge of one another is a murky half-thing, ever caught twixt the dark tide and cold beach of mist-breathed comraderie. Our closest moments are those linked by dim shades and uncertainty, when a person might be inclined to reach out to any mooring, even one fell and serpentine.

But yes, this western kick I've been on, we shall lay the beast at Hugh's feet. He implored me to read Blood Meridian some months ago, which I did and have as of yet failed to return to him, along with two other of his Cormac McCarthy books that I have also since read. This in itself would scarcely constitute a "kick" as I suggested in the first sentence of this paragraph, but that does not tell the whole tale. I was perusing my parent's bookshelf when I stumbled upon a fittingly weathered copy of Lonesome Dove. I recalled not being especially fond of Larry McMurtry's style. In retrospect, this was not McMurtry's fault, but because at the time I was utterly under the spell of the tight, curt prose of Hemingway, and had no tolerance for slow musings and frequent repetitions. This time I was all for it though, and after the brutality of Blood Meridian I wanted to see how McMurtry dished out the Old West. McCarthy pulls no punches, and even kicks you in the groin a few times. McMurtry is gentler, but he has his moments. After finishing up Lonesome Dove I went on to the inferior-but-readable sequel Streets of Laredo. Throw in McCarthy's Cities of the Plain and that's a whopping four westerns in a few months. For someone whose previous count tallied zero, it's quite the upswing.

Why any of this matters I have no idea. There are perhaps links I could craft between my current state of mind and the notion of the Old West, but let's not get too pretentious about this. It was good reading, and of a sort I am not used to. For that it was welcome.

I was actually busting my writing chops at a pretty good clip for a while, but then I ran face-first into Fallout 3, which, you know, demanded a lot of time. That phase has more or less passed though. I just don't seem to stick with the games like I did a few years ago. I miss my damn writing group, but Laura's schedule is all hell and Andre I have not heard from in months and he does not respond to my entreaties. Hugh of course is a figment creature, and his lack of corporeal existence makes entertaining any notion of commitment on his part a sort of doomed proposition. I'd say it's a perfect time to complete a novel and shame them all into trudging forth, but I suspect the result would actually be somewhat the opposite. It would not be the shame of obligation they felt, but rather the shame of antipathy, whereby I would become a polarizing presence, ever distant, the cross that damns and denies their vampiric existence.

That concludes my navel-gazing, I'd best get to work.

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Tuesday, November 4th, 2008
6:31 pm - Tuesday Night Fight!!!!!
All right, so as discussed previously my Canadian election coverage was subpar. It was unfortunate, but so it goes. Fortunately life offers up chances at redemption, and here we are with the USA's long-awaited presentation of Futility '08. YES WE CAN.

FIVE PRESSING QUESTIONS FOR TONIGHT:

1) IS BARACK OBAMA BLACK JESUS?

I have to admit, I am worried this question might be moot. It all goes back to a few Christmases ago when I was shopping downtown after being up all night. I was dead tired, dizzy, afraid. I actually recounted that day on this very livejournal, although I'm too lazy to provide a link. One detail I left out was at one point outside the Eaton Centre I was accosted by this black dude who was shoving some paper in my hand and hitting me up for money. I was too cowardly and irritable to fight him over this so I gave him ten bucks and had some cheap 9 or 10 page printout in my hand with a number of "information pages" on black people. One page was delightfully titled "FACTS". Among the FACTS presented was this: "Jesus was a blackman[sic]". This left me wondering, was Actual Jesus already Black Jesus? Or was that not a typo, was Jesus a blackman? What did this mean? If there's already been a Black Jesus can Obama be Black Jesus too? I submit that he cannot. Therefore I think we've already answered this first question. Barack Obama is not Black Jesus.

2) WHY ARE PEOPLE NAMED TUCKER ASSHOLES?

I know of exactly three Tuckers in this world. The first is Tucker Max, an internet celebrity of particular fame among frat boys and other young men in the age 18-30ish demographic. He is notorious for his drinking, womanizing, and crazy stories which, depending on your personality, you might find hilarious or disgusting.

Second is Tucker Carlson, who is of the more pompous-I-want-to-punch-you-in-the-face brand of asshole. Not being a viewer of Fox news or whatever the hell he does I don't really know what's up with him. Really I only think about him because of the time he got destroyed by Jon Stewart on Crossfire in one of the Five Greatest Moments of Television. None the less, he's a Tucker, and he's an asshole.

Third, this Tucker Bounds fellow who speaks for the McCain campaign or something. I see this guy quoted all the time by CNN, usually with some snide remark or reply to something Obama has said or done, and I think he's a healthy old-timey entitled white person asshole. He seems like he's got that old-school aw-shucks bluster to him, and if McCain loses tonight we'll have to observe this guy closely in the hopes of unlocking the secret of why not all assholes are Tuckers, but all Tuckers are assholes.

3) WHO THE FUCK PUT OHIO, FLORIDA, AND PENNSYLVANIA IN CHARGE?

Seriously, I hate these bullshit states. Every election it's Pennsylvania this and Ohio that and oh no look Florida is fucking up it's voter registration again. If a state fucks up an election it should have to sit the next few out. As for Ohio, nothing this boring should be this important.

4) IF JOHN MCCAIN WINS AND DIES DURING HIS ACCEPTANCE SPEECH CAN WE HAVE A DO-OVER?

I do not want Peggy Hill running our enormous neighbour to the south. It boggles my mind Sarah Palin could be a (literal) heartbeat away from the presidency. I just... Ugh. Argh. No. I refuse to believe someone this stupid can be allowed to run the show. Oh wait...

And finally...

5) WHO IS GOING TO ACTUALLY WIN?

I can tell you one thing - whatever happens, you lose bitch.

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Wednesday, October 22nd, 2008
6:43 pm - Damn yo
Fella be tired after a while.

I spoke on the phone to a dude in Nunavut. It was bizarre. Then he told me that I should probably call their Montreal office. Which I did, and THEY told me to call some guy in another area code, who I ended up having to email. In a very short span I was greeted:

1) In Inuktitut
2) In French
3) By voicemail
4) By text (when the dude emailed me back... from his blackberry. Thanks for answering your phone dude.)

I guess it's not really that interesting, but at the time it seemed pretty novel.

Oh, and apparently in Newfoundland they pronounce URL as "erl", all one word. I think I sort of love Newfoundland?

Oh, and I'm back on coffee. My mornings have never been better. My evenings are falling apart.

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Wednesday, October 15th, 2008
2:48 am - More of the same.. sort of
Well, it looks like another Conservative minority government up here in good old Canadialand. Harper has stated he intends to treat it like a majority, and for the next year or so he'll likely have his way. No one is going to leap right back into another election. The Liberals got whipped pretty good. Can you hear Ignatieff and Rae sharpening their knives?

Haha, on CBC their Quebec analyst regarding whether the Liberals will/should keep Dion as leader: "You don't keep a symptom just so you can scratch it." Ouch.

Anyhow, as befits such a momentous occasion, I'd like to hand out a few awards and thank yous.

Thank you to:

1) Our tanking economy. Without you this election would have drearily slouched its way toward a predictable dull result. Instead, because of you, it was all whiz! bang! sweater! toward a predictable dull result.

2) Quebec. For doing what it always does.

3) Justin Trudeau. For accepting Stephane Dion's challenge, running in a hotly contested Quebec riding, and milking the political capital that comes with having a popular daddy for all its worth. Remember, anyone can dream, and with a wealth of political connections, those dreams can be built upon the pilloried masses.

4) Rex Murphy. For adding a delicate note of ghoulish terror to the CBC's otherwise face-friendly broadcast with trusted personalities like Peter Mansbridge and Rick Mercer.

Some awards:

The "What did you think would happen?" award to Elizabeth May, the only Green candidate with any sort of noteworthy profile, for running against Peter MacKay. MacKay had won the riding of Central Nova four times, his father seven more before him. I don't care what your principles are Ms. May. Get real or go home. Oh wait.

The "Sometimes progress isn't" award to Twitter, for somehow being relevant to the CBC's broadcast. Look, I really don't give a shit what a bunch of random people are "tweeting" during the coverage of the election. I realize that it sounds grumpy and old-manish to rant about new techonologies, but come on. All Twitter has done is confirm what we long suspected: that people's day to day thoughts and activities are as boring as (un)imaginably possible. It's like if you extracted the (dubious) merits of blogging, threw them out, and then kept the rest.

The Sad Emoticon award to Mr. Dion. :(

The Stunted Frozen Almost-Smile award to Mr. Harper. :|

The Good Citizen award to me for voting and watching election coverage rather than watching playoff baseball.

The Deceitful Liar award to me as well. I was watching the baseball game until it became a blow-out.

The Harrowing Alarm Clock award to every goddamn political leader except Elizabeth May. I have work tomorrow people, give your damn speeches already. BC? Screw them. Bunch of tree-huggers. Probably smoking pot right now. I wish I lived in BC.

The G. W. Bush award to Maxime Bernier, for overwhelming success in the face of overwhelming, embarrassing stupidity. Bernier crushed the opposition in his riding, capturing something like 62% of the vote. From this I choose to extrapolate that Quebecers prefer to elect people that sleep with attractive biker chicks, even if they leave classified documents in said biker chick's apartment.

Okay, so this has been a lousy election, and a lousy election post. I've been getting over a cold and am not on my "A" game. That's my excuse. Let's all move past this and look forward to the ritual sacrifice of Stephane Dion, which will play well for the Liberals with the influential occult vote come next election.

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Thursday, October 9th, 2008
11:15 pm - I should be paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to announce baseball games
You are in the broadcast booth for game 1 of the NLCS between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Philadelphia Phillies. You have just watched Cole Hamels of the Phillies throw 7 innings of 2-run ball in which he has struck out 7 batters, the last 3 all in the same inning with the help of his devastating change up that is the best in baseball thrown by anyone not named Johan.

The 8th inning rolls around and Ryan Madsen enters the game as a relief pitcher for Philadelphia. He throws a change up for a strike. Your commentary is what?

Well, if you are Tim McCarver, you promptly say Madsen has the best change up on the Phillies.

Seriously, what the fuck? You just watched 7 innings of Philadelphia's best pitcher throwing the second-best change up in ALL OF BASEBALL, and you immediately say Ryan freaking Madsen has the best change up on the Phillies?

Maybe McCarver was napping for the first seven innings. In the future it would be nice if he napped for all nine of them.

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Saturday, August 16th, 2008
1:37 am - Run Chris Run
Impatient for the TTC, I ran. Dufferin, Ossington, Grace(Christie), Bathurst, Spadina, they flew by. Dundas, College, somehow I'm at Bloor. Look at me go, endorphins battling alcohol on the issue of sobriety. What's left is a sort of clear perception surrounded by fog. As soon as the heart slows and the lungs return to your regularly scheduled flight, then once more that previous haze creeps in.

I didn't stretch when I got home. Somehow it seemed absurd. Stretches are for planned runs, for the athlete, not the drunkard.

I think I'll go make a sandwich now. Seems capital.

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Sunday, July 6th, 2008
11:26 pm - Half-hearted victory
I spent my Sunday watching the end of Metal Gear Solid 4(MGS4). Emphasis on watching, because in terms of actual game play I got in perhaps an hour and a half and spent the other four or so hours idling in front of cinematics. I don't often play console games, but with my roommate owning all three major systems and generally acquiring any major titles, these things do happen. I had an interest in MGS4 because I'd been hearing all sorts of things about the "great" storytelling and complex ideas and crazy integration of gameplay with cut scenes and what have you. It's a mixed bag, although everyone in the world seems to be raving about the game and giving it 10's and hugs and their first-born children. That's all well and good, and before I begin my belly-aching I will say that it is a good game, visually astounding, I found the game play enjoyable, and many of the cinematics were very cool.

MGS4 is also like a 1200 page novel that never saw an editor. Scenes stretch on for a ridiculously long time. The plot is convoluted rather than complex, like it was stitched together madly with all sorts of "but"s thrown in until everything (sort of) meshes. I get that Hideo Kojima wanted to tie up all his loose plot threads from the previous games, but still, it's a problem because you spend more time watching the story unfold than actually playing the game. The characters can be quite visually expressive at times, but are limited by repetitive dialogue(The game probably set a record for number of times the word "proxy" is said). I actually love narrative in video games. I was the kid who would make up a story if the game didn't provide one. I hope games in the future pick up on a lot of the techniques used in MGS4 to transition from game play to story and back again, but I also hope that in such a future more attention is paid toward building a narrative that doesn't leave the player longing to just get back to the business of sneaking around and shooting people.

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Monday, May 26th, 2008
5:34 pm - Yizzo
Lucas was none too pleased with my (possibly drunk) knee-jerk post in response to some story or other involving some crazy Islamic censorship, so I will at some point in the near future fill this space with a wonderfully boring treatise on my perspective regarding religion, free speech, political correctness, and tolerance. But right now I'm le tired. So instead, I present this, one of the best titled Onion articles in a while (am I sexist for thinking this?):

Report: Women Increasingly Choosing Dead-End Careers Over Dead-End Relationships
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/report_women_increasingly_choosing

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Sunday, May 11th, 2008
7:36 pm
My department went to an all you can eat Japanese place for lunch on Friday. I ate a lot of food. A lot lot. Now I can't stop eating. I have entered a permanent state of hunger. I will devour worlds. YOUR world maybe. Watch out, because damn am I hungry.

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Monday, April 28th, 2008
1:49 am - Why can't he post at 6 pm like all the other boys and girls?
He's a loser
I don't understand my growing love for Static-X. Such things are supposed to happen in teenage years, not mid-twenties. Oh well. Arrested development perhaps?

Things are going well. I had to go back and reread "The Sun Also Rises" to remember that whole writing thing in a meta sort of way. The purpose with which Hemingway writes almost every paragraph is so impressive. To have that level of mastery at such a young age well... it's no wonder he never equaled that first novel. It's something else.

Andre said it was boring though. At least, as much of it as he could be bothered to read. I think he murdered a small part of me at that moment. But screw you Dre. THIS is awesome:

"You talk sort of bitter."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to. I was just trying to give you the facts."
"I don't believe she would marry anybody she didn't love."
"Well," I said. "She's done it twice."
"I don't believe it."
"Well,"I said, "don't ask me a lot of fool questions if you don't like the answers."
"I didn't ask you that."
"You asked me what I knew about Brett Ashley."
"I didn't ask you to insult her."
"Oh, go to hell."
He stood up from the table his face white, and stood there white and angry behind the little plates of hors d'oeuvres.
"Sit down," I said. "Don't be a fool."
"You've got to take that back."
"Oh, cut out the prep-school stuff."
"Take it back."
"Sure. Anything. I never heard of Brett Ashley. How's that?"
"No. Not that. About me going to hell."
"Oh, don't go to hell," I said. "Stick around. We're just starting lunch."
Cohn smiled again and sat down. He seemed glad to sit down. What the hell would he have done if he hadn't sat down?


Unrelated matters:

The Jays are killing me in no small way.

I've gotten into playing chess again. I was decent as a kid, but I never cared to study it seriously at all and peaked in my teenage years. Now I'm approaching it with a more studious approach, studying openings, strategies, tactics, etc. There's too much to learn, and I can't see myself spending too much time on it, but I've started improving my game after years of neglect and it's kind of cool to see myself recognizing opportunities and traps that I wouldn't have in my younger days.

I love all this bullshit about "Don't be mad at the TTC workers, be friendly and polite and THANK them." Yeah, whatever, what they did Friday night/Saturday morning was complete crap. They knew full well what they were doing too, and of course people are rightfully pissed, so now we get to watch the union spin it and blabber about "miscommunication" and things being "unfortunate". If I see Bob Kinnear I should just punch him in the face.

But I should think happy thoughts. Pleasant thoughts. Soma thoughts. Sounds like a plan.

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Sunday, April 20th, 2008
2:49 am - yadda yadda
can't sleep, bored, thus we write nonesenseCollapse )

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Saturday, April 5th, 2008
8:20 pm
Weird, an emo post I don't even remember writing. That's what being up and drunk at 7 am will do to me I guess?

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7:09 am - Memo to the world
Listening is a good compliment to complaining. If you want to actually be a friend, that is.

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Thursday, March 27th, 2008
1:35 am - In which we make like the old days
Pilgrim, where's your head at?

I fell out of love with livejournal for quite a while, aided in no little part by a sudden rash of self-consciousness over the very fact that, well, I had a livejournal. It's a sign of my distorted sense of self-image that I can go five days without shaving, and yet my ego is suddenly petrified by the acknowledgement that I have this thing. And fuck you lj, I can spell acknowledgement with an "e" if I like. It's in the CANADIAN OXFORD bitch. Don't you go underlining that shit. I take a course for this. That being said, I'm still going to abuse commas all over the place as I tend to approach this with a tone more conversational than literary. There will probably be lots of dangling modifiers as well. Oh I'm a rebel.

Anyhow, somewhere in the mix of obsessions, compulsions, fears, and neuroses, I decided it's okay to post here again. So let's have a little old-fashion ramble where I comment vaguely on my own life, sporadicly on the world, maybe throw in a line or two of fiction. There will be little in the way of transition, so things will be confusing. It'll be great.

Glossing over the life part - I spent January lounging happily, February despondent, March bottomed out and then prompted a renewed sense of possibility. A dear teacher of mine who died last year used to tell us, "Never say should. Should is the language of defeat." It was good advice then and is good advice now. I'm trying hard to apply it.

I'm finishing stories these days. Slow going, but the point is they're getting done instead of sitting in half-finished limbo. It's important progress. Now to just take that next step and submit them.

I think I'm becoming a fan of the Marble Index.

When the protests in Tibet began to heat up, I immediately thought of the protests in Burma(and I use that name purposefully) last September. It's the sort of event that occurs with a weary familiarity. We all know how these things end(Hint: not well). Anyways, it reminded me of a story I started working on at the time, back when the monks were in the streets and thousands were coming out to support them. It had two titles and I couldn't decide between them so I just wrote "A Few Days in Burma / The World Will Not Save You". It wasn't actually about Burma, but rather someone over here reacting to the news. I had already plotted out the scene where they read about the crackdown, and that was before it actually happened. I was sort of saddened by my own cynicism, but of course it was completely justified. The protests were for naught, and by the 27th of September Yangon was a ghost city, the citizens terrified of military reprisals.

Perhaps the Tibetans believe it's different because China is hosting the Olympics. Or maybe they don't believe that. I think that would be even sadder, but it doesn't really matter what they think. I won't watch the Olympics, but that doesn't mean anything.

And now for something completely different.

I've read from several different people now speculating that the reason Hillary is dragging out the Democratic primary is not to win the nomination in 2008, but to win it in 2012 by damaging Obama so badly that he loses to McCain come November. It makes a lot of sense from an "All I care about is being president" standpoint. Sort of a downer if it's true though. Nuts to politics.

The baseball season for 2008 kicked off in Japan this week with two games between Boston and Oakland. I was actually up for one of them (6 am start times.. ugh). I don't sleep well though, so the onus wasn't so great I suppose. I'm glad baseball is back. A game sure, but one I enjoy greatly. the Jays kick off their season in New York and then come home to play the Red Sox, so things are going to open with a bang. The starting pitching is going to have to pull a lot of weight with the uncertainty in the bullpen and the lineup looking sketchy. Injured Rolen + Frank Thomas hitting like .140 in spring training = sad panda.

If one more person tries to rave to me how great "The Wire" is I'm going to punch them in the face. I remember watching the first season years ago and thinking it was cool, but losing track of it because I'm absentminded and lose track of things. That it has suddenly become this phenomena in the last year or so is great and all, but people gushing about it like they've just discovered the Holy Grail need to shut the fuck up. It's been around for years. This is not new.

I've always thought "Americana" was a pretty solid Offspring album. Maybe I'm in the minority though.

I used to claim that I was going to marry Lisa Loeb, and I feel that I must issue a correction. As much as I adore Ms. Loeb, it is now Sarah Slean whom I will be marrying. If someone has a way of conveying her this information that would be great.

You'll notice that in that last sentence the pronoun "her" has two possible antecedents. I figured you'd spot it. You're clever like that.

And now as promised, a snippet of fiction. I wrote this little exchange a while ago but still have yet to find a story to put it in. It makes me laugh though. Enjoy.


"Don't you see? Breaking the window was an important expression of this neutered rage instilled in all of us by an overflow of information about a world that we inevitably realize we are an insignificant part of."
"Man, I guess, but it still sucks that you broke that guy's window. I'd be pissed."
"You're just not seeing the big picture."
"Maybe some asshole broke the big picture and neglected to pay for it."



This was cathartic. I should do it more often.

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Wednesday, March 19th, 2008
12:44 am - That Obama Fellow
I don't know if the man is more style than substance, but he sure delivers an eloquent speech. He might lose, or he might win and prove to be just another politician, but it sure was nice to listen for that half hour and believe in something noble. Something beautiful even.

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Saturday, February 9th, 2008
4:40 am - WE RIDE!
OR some form. We charge through the path, ignoring thorns and barnacles. Can barnacles exist above water? Of course, because such natural defenses must be co-opted by the land when faced with such awesomeness. What awesomeness? The abandon, the sort of "Well, this could go badly, but fuck it let's roll", or as the wussies say, the "Je ne sais qua"(sp?). It's not some sort of immortal pursuit, never world changing, but always interesting in that car crash sort of way. That gruesome, very primal and yet private, that event that incites a longing, albeit often a vague one (for such things are foolish), but a longing, an envy, a sort of "Well, if I'd wanted to fuck up my life, that would have been a pretty cool thing to do."

Wow. I don't know. Dave and I discussed the death of the middle class. I do not have the commitment or the will to be like the wealthy or powerful. I cannot drive that direction. Which leaves poverty I guess? It doesn't bother me, it's just a strange acknowledgement. What does it mean that I'd rather write absurd fiction than chase a position worth more in yearly salary? Is this just an absurd decision of youth that will end in tears? What if it is? I don't know. It looks to me like what most people do to "opt out" of the "Oh Shit What Am I Doing With My Life Crisis" is to not think about it and roll with whatever mediocre job pays best? It's like you're either one of those hyper-motivated climb-the-rung-types, or you're a half-assed sorta-chased-my-dream-then-did this type. Such a dichotomy is oversimplifying of course, but still. Isn't it sort of that? What the shit?

I wanted to end this babbling in some sort of profound note, but shit damn I ain't got nothin' son. It's just a weird place right now, and there's all sort of rationalizing going on that makes me want to punch someone in the face and blow something up, which I guess explains a lot?

Well not really, but it would have been a good sort of ambiguous is-Chris-siding-with-anarchists/crazies/terrorists/whatever? No, not really, it's all contrived. When did anyone born after 1980 ever feel somethinge genuine anyways?

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Wednesday, October 17th, 2007
12:58 am - A Triumphant Return?
Here's a little rant I wrote that I thought I'd post here. Does this mean I've remembered this space and will begin posting regularly?! Well, probably not. But who knows? Anyways, here it is:



I have always been peeved by generation labels. The most notorious is, of course, "Generation X", whatever that means. I don't even know, and I've heard the term six kabillion times. Baby boomers I get, but whatever. I think I hate that phrase now because I've heard the sentence "the baby boomers are retiring" so many times now and it's clear they're all going to live to be two hundred and fifty and work sixty hours a week doing it. Also I've became very hostile towards the 60's and people who trumpet it as some sort of goddamn pinnacle of good times, but that's another rant for another time.

I finally jumped on the iPod bandwagon last week, although I am rocking out the super low-end 512 mb shuffle. As I was fondling my new toy lovingly it occurred to me that the obvious label for the latest generation is iGeneration. I immediately loathed myself for thinking this, but it made so much sense. People have been clawing for new terms to throw behind "Generation" in the wake of Generation X, and it all sounds like a bunch of crap. Which is to say even crappier than the term Generation X. Generation Next? Generation Y? Please. I should note at this time that I immediately realized there was no way in hell I was the first person to think of this, and a quick search on Google for "igeneration" proved this to most certainly be the case, although it isn't nearly as referenced as I thought it might be.

iGeneration is ideal because it's just smugly cute enough to encapsulate the roiling condescension that vomits forth from the majority of mass media and pretty much everyone over 30. There is a lot of dull droning about how it's a generation of endless connectivity coupled with unknown levels of insulation and isolation. The iPod is sort of a symbol of this latter element. Just coming home on the subway I was listening to mine while standing next to three other people who were also all listening to iPods. It must have looked really dumb, but at the same time it's not even unusual anymore. All three of them had glassy eyed stares that I can only assume I had as well.

With iGeneration you get the smartass pun out of "i" which refers both to this inundation of technology by alluding to whole slew of Apple products, as well as the notion that it's a "me me me" generation. My fascination with this isn't that I think it's right, but how tightly it slips over the general assumptions and preconceptions about youth today. There's also the familiar irony that accompanies pretty much i-anything. Everyone loves irony, right?

I think I'm waiting on this the way an angry teenager waits on their parents to say something unreasonable. Every time I hear or read some patronizing comment or other from someone in the age 50+ category about how self-absorbed young people are today, I want to tear into them and scream that so many of the problems we have are the result of the massive failures of the generation that was supposed to save the world, those very fifty-somethings. It's craving fuel for the fire, and with "iGeneration" I've gotten myself all riled up over a semantic issue that hardly even exists, so I need them to hurry the hell up. Then again, half of them don't even seem to know what an iPod is. Maybe I need to settle down and start watching American Idol or something. Oh Simon Cowell, you're so bad!

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Thursday, June 21st, 2007
12:13 am - Yarr
I have not entirely forgotten this space

It's been a busy few weeks. Moving in has been a gradual process, but my relief has been tremendous. Living with my parents throughout school was very beneficial financially, but definitely not without its own costs.

Maybe the strangest thing about it all is that I feel ambition kindling for the first time in... I don't even remember the last time I felt really ambitious about anything. Perhaps it's the consequence of a realization that now self-direction is all there is.

I have learned something about myself! Whatever my eventual career in life becomes, it's going to be something that doesn't require me to be up before 9. I will take significantly lower pay to make this a reality. I have always hated mornings, and six months of getting up around 6-7 am has done absolutely nothing to make me enjoy it more. My creativity peaks around 10-12 pm and having to try to sleep through those hours is, frankly, total balls.

And now I go to bed, because I have to be up for 6:30.

Balls.

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Tuesday, May 29th, 2007
3:39 pm - Sweet Reminder
The other night I went out with my brother to this cool bar near Spadina and College that has an open mic night type thing every Monday. It was a special event because it was the first time I got to watch Ryan play. He looked absolutely haggard before playing but it was a moment of strange yet undeniable pride to watch him go up there anyways, swallowing his fear because it matters too damn much to him to let it these moments slip by.

I felt like a total interloper because almost everyone there played music/was going up to perform. There were some really awesome performances, and even the not-so-hot ones were touching because everyone was so happy just to be up there. This one girl covered the song "Slow Motion" by Third Eye Blind and it was damn beautiful the way she sang it. The whole night was just really awesome and it was an insanely much needed reminder that there are places and people that are really wonderful, and that's something everyone needs to touch into once in a while.

It was very much worth the pain of going to work on two hours sleep. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

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Thursday, May 17th, 2007
9:34 pm - Dark Power Rising
Sin I didn't care for,
But a sin that paid my debts


It took me years to actually cave and acquire a credit card. I have long viewed them with suspicion and emphatic frowny faces. So seductive and easy to use and it doesn't judge you if you don't want to stay and cuddle.

Anyhow, since getting one I had not, until now, touched it. It was an uneasy state of detante. A state now broken. Credit cards are crack. I sit here admiring a granny smith apple. It is green and tasty. I could eat it. Or I could go buy five hundred bucks worth of books on Amazon.

Okay, so that's a really geeky way to throw money around, but what did you expect, that I'd go clothes shopping?

Let me make a preemptive strike on this one. Nick, Andre, Luke, and possibly Dave - shut up.

Perhaps the most worrisome part of this whole spending ordeal was that in choosing between cellphones I totally got sucked into their warped schemes. I went into this process thinking "I require a communications device, nothing more - no random crap". All of a sudden I find myself scoffing at one model because it only has a 0.3 megapixel camera instead of the much sexier 2.0 on a pricier phone. I didn't even know what a fucking megapixel was before that. Here I am thinking I'm some lofty intellectual above their base and morally bankrupt marketing and next thing you know I'm scraping along the ground right in the throng of the great unwashed to lick their blood-stained boot heels begging for three more fucking megabytes of storage capacity.

More news of random stuff will be forthcoming. One item right away -

There will be a BASEBALL GAME organized soon involving lots of lovely people. Currently I am attempting to strike up a dialogue with Andre and Erika to hammer out the details, although Andre as per usual is slow to respond to my entreaties. Stay tuned however, we want lots of people to show up. Go find your baseball gloves, or go steal some from kids at the park. Don't worry about it, kids can't run that fast.

Is entreaties even a word?

I think it is.

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