Monday, February 27, 2006
-Does anyone else aim for the urinal-mint just to get that refreshing smell?
-Ever notice how predisposed to looking at people you are? Even if you didn't know someone was there, the chances of 'casually' looking at some otherwise uninteresting landmark are damned higher if someone is there. Like looking up in a coffee shop and looking directly at someone who'd been looking at you. Eery. I guess the only problem with that observation is that you'll never know how many people you don't see..
-Cogender toilet seat guidelines need to be heavily revised... why do I have to touch a seat I'm not using? Especially BEFORE I touch my winky? Anyone who insists otherwise is braindamaged in the head. The typical counterarguement 'I don't want to fall in' is just a further expression of just how extensive that braindamage is: who doesn't look before they sit down? Especially when half-naked and planning to pass body fluids!? We should at least meet half-way on this one, and accept that the seat'll go up and the seat go down, move it if you need to.. am I wrong? AM I WRONG?
-Which is your favourite dep? There should be annual dep awards, with acceptance speeches and everything. There are some serious deppers out there.. A few along Duluth are more like gunclubs than convenient places to buy baby formula: old dudes hang about sharpening butchering equipment or repackaging Gillette razors. Vote for your favourite dep here!
-Ever notice how the last wisp of a put-out cigarette smoke smells like fish oil?
-Do you ever need to turn the car-radio down to be able to park?
-In the music spectrum, when does reggae become dub? On the remix? Because some of the best dub I've seen has been live.
-I've no idea what a Super Dairy Boy might be, but haven't you always wanted toys like these? Check out the Powerisers!
-Back to DJ names, how's Rambo sound? Or EeryMouthy? Or The Metapickle? I definitely need someone to tell me, or else I'll be DJ Tommy, which sounds a little too gino-house for this lad.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
OK. So, as I was landing myself a job today, I finally had the idea for Los Rawkiss Knee Bucklers' Cabaret that I needed. ***CHECK HERE FOR SPORADIC UPDATES: THE IDEA IS CURRENTLY BEING INCUBATED*** As I'm trying to shimmy into psy-fi right now, AND come into my ongoing 10 year fantasy of creating music, I'm going to compose a psy-fi soundtrack!! I've got the stipulative story all lined up. Now I just need to factor in the fun. But most importantly, figure out a DJ name, though, technically, I wouldn't be a DJ. I was thinking of a few: The Learnererer, Savage Cabbage, Mr. Mister, Captain Crow or Captain Turnip, DJ Welfare, DJ PalindromemordnilaP JD or, in that ilk: rorriM JD, CollyWobble, PuddleJumper, PigLicker. Or maybe something witty, like: WD40 on the Fly, The Chemical Single-Child, Hungry Hungry Hip, Trance'n'dance. Or political, like: Electricity is for the Weak, Freakanada, Willy Wonky, USreal, ChillWhitey, CondeleezaRiceIsTheAntiChrist, TesticleTariff etc. Basically, I need someone to decide for me... it's too bad I'm saving Optimus Prime as the name for my first-born. Alright, I'm off to celinebriate my gainful employment some more at Laika. Later!!
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Ever notice how a bad mood affects harmony with your environment? Yesterday, sitting with Isabel in front of a rolling DVD Lost-athon, I fired up a stove element to heat some water. A few minutes in, Isabel and I heard a crackling, she asked me what that was, and I replied 'roiling water for my noodles'... however, something bugged me about the sound: water doesn't crackle, so I checked the kitchenette to find the answer: the dishrack was on fire. I'd lit the wrong element. Plastic smoke billowed everywhere, causing the aromatic reminiscence of when I'd amputated Han Solo's blaster arm with a magnifying glass, and replaced it with his head. So, I did the obvious panic response and hit the dishrack with a wet cloth. Eventually it went out. Soot was everywhere, my finger was burnt and I felt like an idiot. This seemed to me to be the penultimate event of a series of unfortunate incidents. But did fortune really have anything to do with it? I am a strong believer in ultimate personal responsibility, even to a degree of psychic/physical coincidence, and so lumping it on bad-luck is also bad faith. Let's go even deeper.
Faith. Trust. Confidence. prefix, com-, "together, together with, in combination," + fidere "to trust" So, loosely speaking, confidence means to go-with, or be-with, faith. This implies a certain psychic predispostion at the very least: I'd even wager that, functionally, the root of all confidence is faith in oneself. Now, considering (consider, literally = "to observe the stars") my actions were revealing my inability to be sure of what I was doing, it left me with a few horrible options... 1) either I was mistakenly confident or, more likely as this was closely attuned to my mood (ie. emotional feedback loop) 2) my confidence was diminished. So I resolve today to restore my confidence.
How to reinstate confidence? Basing this etymologically, my fake-it approach is flat-out lying = how can you fake faith? Basing this emotionally, how do you break a recurring excitation of foul thoughts? Each is, arguing simply, the expression/fuel of the other. The answer lies in the emotional realm, but needs the rational mind as trigger...
1) Recognize the mood, and embrace it. You can't help what you're feeling, last thing you need is to feel bad about that as well (there's such a social precedence on displaying good mood, it's hard not to malign yourself further for not meeting it)
2) Use the mood to achieve what you DO want: effect guided change for the better. Allowing the bad mood to be an emotional loop that reinforces itself (as in, a whole bunch of neuroreceptors that have been, through use, primed to fire more quickly/easily... etc.), it follows that thinking and visualizing good things will steer towards a happier emotional plane. It is important to do this mindfully: sheer aversion to bad things won't do. That's avoidance or distraction and how commercials getcha to buy stuff. Effectively, going towards what you want will act to avoid the bad anyways.
3) Remember that there is no arrival: you don't BE good, you practice it. After you have a goal of worth, be it based in virtue or skill, you have to practice the person you want to be. This is tricky: when viewing another, it is tempting to see them as a finished product. It is easy to criticize and analyze them, your brain has every capacity to do so. However, the brain cannot do this to itself, even though it tries. I won't go into this, but just suggest that it leads to a form of self-negation. Even a positive take on itself is arrogance, a form of assumption.
4) Do not do this directly for others. This is the toughest of all, as people will ALWAYS tell you who you are, give you the reflection you need to know, but to accomplish something for the sheer positive feedback is to act without confidence. I am guilty of this problem. I have a fatuous existential phrase for this: you are what you do, but are judged on how you do it. By all means, accept praise, but don't provoke it.
Wow. Do I ever feel better!
ps. I've no idea how many people read this, but there've been a few short-lived posts that I've hastily removed as it breaks the conditions I set myself as a blogger. I'm sure there'll be more that come and go, but they're either too personal or opinionated to exist for any extended period of time. Look for them though, they're usually the most inflammatory/defamatory.
Monday, February 13, 2006
I watched Donnie Darko again yesterday. As soon as I realized that it was Echo & the Bunnymen opening the credits, and that that seemingly innocuously placed song coincided with the fact that a giant bunny called Frank waded behind most of the action, I began to think there was a lot more I was missing. So I cheated and looked it up... Here there was a breakdown on the imagery. Apparently, rabbits are considered to be symbols for regeneration, perhaps even reincarnation: 'the rabbit expresses hope that life will be renewed, and better than before'.
Attention and intention typically solder to form inattention...
Institutionalized VD is here (finally Yahoo finds more news than Sharon's spleen). I bet today is the world's greatest break-up day... Fucker! Who is that trying to capitalize on my fear of being alone? Nothing more vapid than someone telling me to love, and when... Such a stupid day there aren't even any good websites about it.
Thanks Warren Ellis for not knowing how blatantly I repost your posts...
OK. Last bullet here... Just watched a blind guy pass by the window wearing no pants. Just plaid boxers and wellington boots. I don't know what the ethical thing to do is here. I have a vague feeling I'd be the one accused of public indecency by telling him. But he should know. It's -5 celcius, and 'feels like' -13. Talk about walking around with a white cane...
Friday, February 10, 2006
Had a riproaring day yesterday, most literally towards the end (my roommates came home and gagged on the noxiousness of my fumes, Justine inquiring as to whether Isabel was asleep or simply unconcious. I think they misinterpretted my redface as borne of embarrassment, it was more from exertion and probable assphyxiation).
Steve and I had quite the episode of chess at Cafe Pi. The atmosphere, always to what I expected was our mutual taste, really made an impression on him. In his words: 'My grandfather's always said that every man needs a club' and, accordingly, 'The first rule of Pi...' It is a fantasy land, alighting on all the chess jockeys' minds as a place to make war on each other in peace. We drank coffee until we could've moved our pieces by jiggling against the table with our feet. So much cerebralism goes into the Pi concept: Red Bull and tripped-out art, musical oddities and humaniacal travesties. All gets processed and reconstitutes itself there as some sort of mineral buildup in the toilets. We did glean a number of noteworthy quotes from the air though, amongst them my favourite: 'In Russia, we have a saying: Treat the working girl like a queen, and treat the queen like a working girl.' It may've been contextual, but it struck me at that moment as particularly sage.
Isabel and I later went to a poetry and prose reading at the Yellow Door. It was good; inspiring work-ethic, commitment, skill-progression, peer-exposure and the like. We saw a deadringer for a your-pants-are-affecting-your-facial-expression Ben Stiller, whom I saw again this afternoon. Same guy, same facial expression. Deadringer, as phrase, comes from a not unreasonable Victorian fear of being misdiagnosed as dead and buried alive. Intricate bell-systems were consequently rigged up in graveyards, so you could jingle for help were you to come around. However, I think Ben Stiller'll be taxidermed. Don't think that'll stop him from making movies though.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Oh, Justine wanted me to mention the time we were chased around by a werewolf in Frankenstein's (or was it Draculas's?) Haunted Mansion in Niagara Falls. It frightened us silly: Isabel's hat got knocked off, and the werewolf tauntingly mimicked her cries of 'my hat, MY HAT!' Afterwards, Justine mentioned that she literally pooed herself. I made sure to ask her about it at the Ings' Thanksgiving dinner later that evening, noting that she was still wearing the same clothes. I don't know why she asked me to recount the story on the blog, it's pretty gross. But, come to think of it, she's somehow involved in every bodily-function story I've heard or retold recently: she startled some poor bloke on the street with a hiccough/sneeze the other day, giggle-farted in my room once (turning to blame the door-hinge) and unblinkingly supplied the requisite information as to how to make chicken stock ('just bung the carcass into a pot...' Don't know how that's a bodily-function thing, or even gross really, but examples MUST come in 3s, so...). The lady's pure style, and, like, the most creative person I know.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
- All three adore my Quebexican girlfriend. What a truly Global vision they have, to be able to overlook some of her less admirable qualities (being from Quebec) to see, and appreciate, her true cultural charms...
more stories, hopefully furnished with one or two pictures, will surface shortly...
Thursday, February 02, 2006
today i only have questions:
1. where oh where might my Dad be? Bex and i ruminated over that one for a slice. we reckon on holiday, but it's a little difficult to chart his globetrotting movements. though i am concerned, i miss the fellow. i also need to consult him over his kenyan relief agency. more info to follow on that one.
2. does anyone else smell that? i've been having strange, untraceable smells lately, quite complex and flowery. not those burnt-popcorn, about-to-have-a-seizure ones, but real brief and haunting. strange. maybe i'm wishing for an early spring, or maybe it's just time to replace my olfactory bulb with an energy saver.
3. if christopher reeve is really dead, how come there's a new superman movie coming out? huh? i bet a brandnew biggie tune's on the soundtrack.
4. how many hiccoughs can there be in throwing a simple, bleed-from-the-ears after-party? we just had our 'launch' for Rawkiss Kneebuckler Productions fall around our ankles. fuckknobs!!!
5. steve martin as inspecter clousseau? um... what next? ashton kutcher as citizen kane?
6. anyone ever google something sad like 'ashton kutcher' or 'jennifer aniston' before, just to get the correct spelling, and then felt excessively guilty everytime google prompts you their names forever afterwards? like, what if someone ever borrows your computer? how freaking awkward! they've built entire 30 minute-long sitcoms on less of a plot...
7. if you tell a very dear friend a bold-faced lie, but out of general embarassment of how they may alter their opinion of you based one the truth, can it really be excusable? especially when the truth has been one currency that neither have ever defaulted on? the lie multip-lies too. i'm completely em-bare-assed here. Eve, if you're reading this, then you already know how i deceived you. even when i spoke to you today, i got the impression you knew. as i told Isabel, you sounded deflated when we said our goodbyes. and i'm immensely sorry. i will tell you soon.
this Tommy's totally bummed. Reality, this is the sound of me tapping the mat.