not invincible

we make a pair of parentheses

2007-02-08T13:45:00.003-05:00

The night after the day they were woken from their ancient sleep, we drifted off in a present-day mirror of their last embrace.

You slept peacefully, nude; as I watched you watching your neurons fire and eyelids flutter I couldn't help but think of those two.

And the two of us, and all of our time.

And that nagging question in the back of our minds.

Where will you be when it happens?

The gears stop turning, the phone stops ringing, the snow stops falling.
The moment when the clock stops, the lights go off, when lines mean nothing - borders even less - and we all put our boots on and walk out of our cities.

There is nothing greater we as a generation can do than face our fear and our future in the eye and fight for our survival. Unknown, untapped resevoirs of bravery must be summoned to live with our plight.

I can't help but return to the two neolithic lovers... In the moment when all hope is lost they turn their backs to the world and say bravery is not found through meeting the eye of the executioner but is found in the eyes of love.

And I try to summon that courage.

Happy early Valentines Day to all with the courage in their hearts to fight the future.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

ANNOUNCEMENT!!

2007-02-03T17:55:00.000-05:00

(please click image to embigen)

I love everyone who comes, but if you don't come, it doesn't mean I don't love you. It just means you're a bad friend or have another commitment.

There really is no need to RSVP, but if you want to it'd be nice... Do it in the comments section or to my email, or call Julia or Dayn or myself.

Bring whoever if they're cool, and BYOB.

Fun for all.

nobody brought cake though

2006-09-11T00:17:00.000-04:00

Last night was the extremely successful "2nd Annual 518 Party Formerly Known as the September 11th Party". We really turned our apartment around and have it configured as a properly rockin' pad now (for evidence, please come by), and we decided to open it up.

Jules and I and our new roomie Dayn were outstanding hosts.

Scotty was here to make his last stand before returning to Scotland for another school year. He is seen here sporting his almost-five-months-late custom polo shirt birthday gift from yours truly. Lookin' sharp.

Junior was there, too.

He was actually the first one to show up at like, 8:30, sweating like a man 'cause he just fucking flew here on his skateboard. Although I sort of knew Junior from the blogosphere, I had never met him in person before. It was an event we were both eagerly anticipating. He walked up the stairs into the apartment and Julia greeted him thusly:
"Who are you?"

518 Alumnus Victoria Baltuis made it down from Waterpoo for the event. Victoria lived with us for a couple months last year, before Natty, after the little living room. Dayn just moved into her old room a few days ago.

Warren and Zorana came and got fucking loaded. Diana's friend Vicki was not exactly un-loaded herself.

Starla and Thanh were super pooped from V-Fest all day but they came out for a bit anyway. Kyle was working on two beers but the guy is such a pro two beers is like drinking baby spit for him. Dude gets his trainer to punch him in the face while he's doing situps. Apparently it makes it like, ten times more intense.

Kyle also brought my favourite motherfucker ever, Max! Kyle said that Max told him he "wanted to get fucking wasted" so Kyle had to bring him along! Max is literally a party animal. He licked a lot and ran around a lot. That sketchy little asian guy was really afraid of him.

Sarah Henning graced us with her presence.

Jess and Michelle.

Carla.

It's true, why else would it be on his shirt?

If you've ever had a conversation with Jess, you'll understand what I'm feeling here. And here.

Uh-Oh! Julia got on that thing! Around 12 people pointed and yelled GET OFF THAT THING! I almost cried.

Lana took Calvin and I into the little vanity half-bahroom and had her way with us.

This is what everything started to look like as the night wore on.

Check this out! We tried to look sober and upright for an old-times'-sake kind of nostalgia session. I think Lana has a less-blurry version of this pic. Still heartwarming though.

We kept it going until almost seven in the morning. A couple rounds of disoriented Scattergories and a GET OFF THAT THING! excursion brought us to sunrise.

I woke up to find Junior sleeping in the hallway.

And this invitation on my sunscreen bottle. Mark your calendars now!

ANNOUNCEMENT!

2006-08-31T01:23:00.000-04:00

THE INTERVENTION

2006-06-21T15:21:00.000-04:00

NEIGHBOUR JIM: Sam? Please, take a seat. We're all here to talk to you about a problem we think you have, that we want to help you with.

SAM: Wha-? This is crazy I don't have a problem-

FRIEND STEVE: It's the Oil, Sam. It's tearing you apart. You're addicted.

NEIGHBOUR JIM: You need to stop. You're using way too much. Every day you're using using using. Some days you just get up and use and sit around all day, completely ignorant of reality.

SAM: That's not true at all, I'm completely fine... Oh, Barbara, not you too!?

BARBARA WIFE: Yes honey, we all agree. It's made you sick - you can hardly breathe; you never exercise and you're getting fat, and... you never have the energy or desire to be intimate with me anymore. All you seem to care about is using Oil and how you're going to get your daily fix.

SAM: Ahhh I can't take this I need some Oil now... where is it...

NEIGHBOUR JIM: You won't find any in your usual stash, Sam. Jesus Christ man, in the garage? Right next to your kids bikes? Right there for them to see what their old man's become? What, did you want your little Chad and Rosie to be like their dad, and get addicted to Oil too? What kind of a message are you sending them, Sam?

ELLEN NEIGHBOUR: And it's eating away at your money Sam. Barbara showed Jim and I your finacial situation. You're very in debt. You've got to kick the Oil. You're spending away your children's future.

YOUR LITTLE CHAD AND ROSIE: Please don't spend away our future. You don't need Oil. We love you without the Oil.

SAM: Oh, Kids... No, I want to, stop, but... I need it. Just a little bit. One last time.

NEIGHBOUR JIM: No, Sam. No more oil.

SAM: Where is it? What did you do with my Oil? I'm getting angry...

FRIEND STEVE: Stay calm, Sam... don't do anything you might regret-

SAM: Don't make me hurt someone! I'll do it! I'll do it!

stink finger

2006-06-12T02:11:00.000-04:00

Maybe I'll talk about something... now.

How about that dang trrrrrrism everyone's talking about?
Yeah, that's a popular thing to talk about.

I think very reasonably that these are just some angry kids. We were/are all angry at something around that age in our lives. We targeted our hypothetical lashing out at things that were culturally familiar to us as evil or wrong or in our view, ethically negative. We got angry at presidents, pollution and popular music. It wasn't an influential or even common strain of thought in our socia environment to despise or carry anger towards America the Great Satan, World Bank credit slavery, or Western culture altogether. Not to say for certain that the feelings of these kids in this terrorism situation even extended to that level.

As the world leaves the print age of linearity and enters the electric paradigm of simultaneity, tribalism re-emerges in a big way as a prominent method of social orgainzation. It is primitive but it is infectious and effective, and it is most importantly extremely subtle and covert while nurturing devotion in its members. A great example of the new tribalism is profesisonal sports fans. They grow fiercely aligned and dedicated to their team and draw battle ligns before the fans of their enemies. Fashion and music and pretty much a whole lot of other things are expressions of tribalism.

In a tribal environment, ideologies are very efficiently cultivated; minimization of other influencing forces accellerates this process even more. This is what happened. A couple of guys at the local whatever were circulating some ideas and laying down informed arguments and so some malleable young people got swept up in the anger and romance of it. I can see how it could happen. They took them to play freaking paintball! Awesome! Kind of like when you started doing drugs, hating jocks, being religious/atheistic or stopped eating meat or shopping at the GAP.

I agree with what seems to be the consensus out there, at least from the discussion on Tristan's and Calvin's blogs. There's probably one or two older guys in there who are, if not active extremists, then at least pretty deep into this dangerous dialogue the world is having with America. Maybe it's a kind of intervention on some level.

At any rate it could have been you in their place so I guess be thankful you've been taught to hate corporations and cell-phone plans and way-the-fuck-too-much-packaging and NASCAR and the Yankees.

Hate the Yankees, love fear.

do this!

2006-06-05T14:18:00.001-04:00

This is a challenge to everyone.

A list of any amount of anything that gives you enjoyment/pleasure/comfort/positivity/anything.
In no particular order.

Construct it. Post it. It's not about one-upmanship. Just do it.

Here's mine so far:

streetcars
Bob Dylan
kielbassa sausage
jeans
photobooths
roasted salted almonds
Sneaky Dee's
Tylenol Ultra Relief
Douglas Coupland
communication/media theory
five star 3 1/2" x 5" notebook
words
orgasms given and received
Raphael (the turtle, natch)
road-trip music
vitamins
refined & limited personal style
nostalgia
stencils
the perfect pair
Lee's Palace
Hayden
right gift for the right person
hot-air popcorn popper

Let's hear yours. This is easy. It's like a free post.

"awake from your slumber baby; it's gonna start"

2006-04-16T23:53:00.002-04:00

It’s the city. It’s the dream. It’s all about the end of the world.

The dream always comes. We spread out our picnic on the arcing arm of the 427 reaching over and down to the gardiner, the long, straight artery stretching into the heart of the empty city.

That feeling, when grew wings made of soaring guitar solos on a highway in the sky over the city of lights. We fucking blasted off. We could have been the ones to explode at Cape Canaveral. We could have been huge. Who am I kidding, we had the same faulty seals in our solid fuel boosters; we exploded, we were glorious. We were huge.

And the slow motion walk towards the camera, as the building I’ve just exited buckles and explodes… The wind from the explosion flutters my hair and my unbuttoned shirt. I flick away the best cigarette I’ve ever smoked. My skin glistens with sweat and grime and the sun glints off my sunglasses. Credits roll.

We were born in cellophane and excess packaging. Predestined to receive the mass message of collective individuality. Memories sold separately.

---

Are you that someone whose eyes I can look into for a long time, without you looking away or commenting on it or anything? Someone who’ll just let me stare deep into them with my hand on their cheek… and let everything I want to feel and say just fall out of me and float in the space between us?

OH HEEEELLLL YEAH!

2006-04-09T21:28:00.001-04:00

Saturday night the majority of the China crew, their usual accessories, and some other noteables hit up local super-pub The Madison in anticipation of Brie's 21st birthday on Monday. For the full story check out Jess' Blog.

I don't have time to relate the events of the entire evening to you.

I'm here for one reason.

GET OFF THAT THING!

Ohhhh hell yes it happened. The Official Game of Cool Kids Everywhere! bitches!

All in all it was a spirited session. Due to the agressiveness of the bar staff we couldn't take the game to the extreme we wanted, but it was still better than like, staying at home like "do you think we should go play GET OFF THAT THING! or something?", "nah, let's just keep eating these chips and watching this Bill Curtis-narrated true-crime show", "alright cool, maybe another time then".

Following my APK GET OFF THAT THING! post, and the subsequent History of GET OFF THAT THING! post, Jess has been haranguing me to get her in on a game. I felt like this was the perfect occasion to propose such a trial run. Jess has been anticipaing this for a while; she had already chosen her preferred role in the game:
"I think I'd be really good at getting on things. I can't see myself really authoritatively telling people to get off of things, but I think I'd really like to get on some things."
Or she said something like that anyway. It's funny, 'cause I always had her pegged for more of a "Player 2" than a "Player 1". Here is her first attempt. Jess got on the windowsil beside our table. She got up there with a lot of enthusiasm, but "Sorry Jess", I'm not buying it. That facial expression ooozes nervousness and embarassment. Is that blushing? Jess is blushing. That's a big no-no. Also what's with the lah-deee-da jazz hands Jess? It's your first try, but so far I'm not impressed. Now that said, this is about the WORST job I have ever done telling someone to GET OFF THAT THING! I look like a fucking trout or something, and that point is just flacid. Bad effort all-around - not a good way to get started.

This guy is the real loser though. He looks a hell of a lot like a guy I used to go to high-school whose name is phoenetically identical to mine, but that's not his problem. After Jess got down from that thing, we felt like we had some momentum, were in the process of explaining the game to a nearby group, with the eventual goal of getting on their table and playing GET OFF THAT THING! Then this cheif (I fucking guarantee his name is like, Chad, or Jeremy or something of equivalent douchery, like Jayson with a "y") decides to get on the thing that Jess just got off of! This is a MAJOR violation of GET OFF THAT THING! ethics. You NEVER get on the same thing that someone just got off of. If you think you can do it better, you don't try to upstage them on the same thing, you get yourself on a different, nearby thing. Duane here got what was coming to him though, 'cause he immediately got his ass kicked out of the bar. Sorry Mongo, next time let us finish explaining the rules!

Alright this is much better. It has a lot to do with Brie's involvement, as she is officially the best female GET OFF THAT THING! player ever, and definately one of the very best overall. She simply cannot believe that Jess is on that thing. Brie is pissed, and she means business. Looking at this picture, I can hear her camp-counsellor voice demanding that Jess GET OFF THAT THING! Hand on hip, great underhand point with a tonne of wrist action, and notice the excellent alignment of point and stare. It's unsettling. *Shiver*. Jess is also doing a waaaaay better job in this one than in her first try. I think we can chalk the initial awkwardness up to inexperience. She's confident and in charge here, and looks like a statue. She needs a fur hat, a Scottish flag, some pelts, a canoe, a Native-Canadian friend, and like a harbour and a mountain and an exploding munitions ship in the background and she could be on the cover of my 8th grade history textbook. Much more determination showing in the facial expression; the embarassment has been replaced with stubbornness. I also like the the repetition shown in Jess' and Brie's elbow positions. I should clarify what this guy is doing here. He is the thing. He looks like the sort of guy who doesn't mind being objectified. His total lack of knowledge as to "what is going on here" is made apparent from his "photo with grandma" shit-eating smile. Judging from his shirt he is a life-sciences student from Sault-St. Marie. Jess is putting up a damn good fight, but Brie has a very good argument. Jess should GET OFF THAT THING!

Oh now this is just fucking great. Matt and Courtney successfully risked expulsion from the bar by getting on this little suppository-shaped table. I like the dynamism and sense of precariousness they created up there. Matt has clearly staked out his space, and he's riding that table like an old hat. Courtney, however is way too caught up in the moment to make a serious go of it, but she is still enjoying herself and trying to stay on the thing, and that's really why we play the game. Let's call her "Player 1.5". Jess and Brie are both aware of who the real threat is, and their fingers are pointing directly to Matt. Being confronted with such a demand has clearly stunned Matt, and his face is saying "Wha--? Are they telling me to GET OFF THAT THING?!!?!?" He doesn't know what to do. No chance. But who would have one? Jess looks like she means business here. I was right, she is a better "Player 2". She is using the wrong arm here, but still keeps the body position open and the facial expression clear. I think Jess's point lacks a little authority in contrast with Brie's, but that's like playing footy with Mia Hamm. Brie's point is great, but overall I've seen better stuff from her. Closed body position and totally hidden facial expression.

RESULT: ALL ARE WINNER!

DO YOU LIKE SUBMARINE SANDWICHES?

2006-04-09T18:31:00.001-04:00

Who doesn't like submarine sandwiches? America's favourite nautical-warfare-themed sandwich is a delicious and satisfying meal solution that the whole famiy can enjoy. Unfortunately, getting your hands around a steaming meatball footlong or a savoury philly steak sandwich isn't always easy. With submarine sandwich shops becoming such a rarity in today's consumer landscape, hungry sandwich lovers may find themselves travelling distances of a couple blocks or more just to satiate their gastronomical desires. Is this a predicament you, yourself have been faced with?

Also, do you need to sublet a room at a great location right in the heart of all the action in downtown Toronto this summer?

Then why not live here?
$580/month from May1 to Sept1 gets you a room in the third-floor apartment of this building here, at Queen St. West and Portland. Everything is included in that figure: all utilities, cable tv, high-speed wireless internet, and telephone with unlimited long-distance in North America. It's a great location in the heart of hip-and-happening Queen St. West; you can walk to pretty much anything you need, and oh so conveniently close to Subway. Mmmm..

The catch is you have to live with Julia and Mark for the whole summer. They're pretty cool people though. Julia is a photography student at Ryerson and she likes Lost, her fish, Lululemon, grilled-cheese sandwiches, emo music, Y&R, and Jake Gyllenhaal. Mark is an English/Sociology/History/Philosophy/Media Theory student at UofT and he likes sneakers, hockey, The Office, indie music, grilled-cheese sandwiches and the Blue Jays.
You might meet the other people in the above picture as well. Vanessa is the person you'll be subletting from. She likes the early-1990's, veganism, and going home to Waterloo for the summer. Brie is a modern woman-about-town. She likes indie power-pop, "fashion", and Cadbury Creme Eggs. Jess is an International Interesting Person. She likes blogging, beards, and Vanuatu.

Let's cut to the chase: this could be your bedroom! It's 8' x 14'. There are no windows but it does have a skylight.

We'll get all this crap out of here. There is as much furniture available as you need. Bed, desk, dresser, nightstand, whatever. We've also got a couple fans.

There's a little window that goes into the hallway. We have noooooo clue at all why it's there. The room is purple on one wall right now, the rest of it is white. If purple's not your thing, feel free to bring some paint.

This is the hallway, the door to the available room is just off to the left. Entrances to Mark's room and the kitchen are ahead, and the bathroom and the vanity are off to the right.

The kitchen. Oooooh. The door leads out the back to a fire-escape and a patio. The guy downstairs says we can use his BBQ. Thanks, Trevor!

More of the kitchen. We actually have two blenders; sometimes we have milkshake races.

This is the bathroom. It is what it is. Feel free to draw on the door, or paint the toilet tank lid, or pretty much anything else actually.

This is the vanity, also known as "Bathroom 1.5"

This is the entranceway, affectionately known as the "lobby". As you may have observed, there is no consistent colour scheme in this house. There are about 67 different paint colours on the walls. The purple door here actually has a little red square in the top left corner. Seriously. But that adds character..?

The rest of the lobby. It's got all this stuff in it right now because we're helping a friend out and letting her crash in our living room. She's gone at the end of April and this will be a lot less cluttered. We've got a spacious living room at the front of the house (to the left of this picture) that is well-ventilated and great to hang out in. It's about 14' x 16' and has ample lounging potential.

Overall the apartment has a wonky layout but there's lots of living space and privacy at the same time. We're friendly people who do our best to be clean and orderly. As you can see there's lots of art up on the walls (sometimes literally) and you, as a future tenant, are encouraged to use the apartment to express yourself.

E-mail mark.homer@utoronto.ca

2006-04-05T02:24:00.000-04:00

I wish I was eating a provolone and mortadella on twelve-grain and listening to Moonraker.

history of social theory / without contending with myths wrongly interpreted

2006-04-03T05:29:00.002-04:00

Have you forgotten that you exist?

Chances are, you have. You're like me -- comfortably numb.

But underneath the wheels lie the skulls of every cog.

I'm going to read Jean-Paul Sartre's "Nausea" again, to scare myself.

My dreams have felt so authentic of late, but my memories are blurred around the edges - within, the colours all bleed together.

If I could, I would make you a raging river, with angry rapids, supplied with rain.
So you could always meander, and forever be able to run away.

you guys should form a band called come on come on come on come on

2006-04-03T03:40:00.001-04:00

So apparently I'm pulling an all-nighter. Local glam-goth rave-slave establishment Funhaus / Zen Lounge is partially responsible; the endless thumping bass coming across the street and through my wall has rendered sleeping an exercise in annoyance. So I made a protein shake. Then I went to Abraham's shitty little bodega downstairs and got three Red Bulls. Don't worry, I'll space them out. Now I'm blogging. This will help get my essay(s) done for sure.

SOME THOUGHTS:

"Superstylin'" by Groove Armada should be banned from everywhere until forever. I know, the horn sample is kind of fun, and their thing at Glastonbury a couple years ago was passable, but it's more annoying than an airport lounge full of homeless people. I'd rather drink cough syrup and listen to "How Bizarre" on repeat (actually that could be fun...?).

I've got a seriously painful little red rager brewing up on my chin. Life is over. I might as well be a War Amps Champ.

Dear Everyone Who is Alive Everywhere,
Please always scrape and rinse your dishes. Always. If you own a dishwasher you may forego rinsing, but not scraping is still a must. There is never an acceptable reason for not doing this.
Sincerely,
Common Sense

If anyone has the impresion that I'm unhappy, I'm not. I'm just unhappy with what I'm doing and mistakes I've made.

After further consideration, I think that drinking cough syrup and listening to OMC over and over would make me Scarborough all over myself.

How is it that you get floaters and sinkers in the same batch? I'd love it if someone could actually research this and tell me. Junior, I'm e-looking in your direction, I know you're keen!

Brie loves to dance to Indian music. She likes the one like "doo dodo doooo do-da-dooo dooo, doo dodo doooo do-da-dooo dooo..."

I started writing a screenplay last year but I haven't touched it in a while. I had to give it up; inspiration is fickle like that. It was about temporariness and the end of society. Right now I'm into permanence and apocalypse-denial. Society might be the only thing that saves us.

I don't like thefreedictionary.com nearly as much as dictionary.com. Update your bookmarks accordingly.

I should really find something to do this summer that will prevent me from going back to school full time. How about fulfillment? That sounds great. I'll find fulfillment. Words, maybe you guys can help me. Ok Mark, we'll help you. Thanks guys, you're still on my Christmas card list btw.

"THE OFFICIAL GAME OF COOL KIDS EVERYWHERE!"

2006-03-21T21:36:00.000-05:00

That is the actual slogan. Believe it, "GET OFF THAT THING!" is "The Official Game of Cool Kids Everywhere". That's saying something. Cool kids are a very influential demographic around the world. Here are a few of them in SCOTLAND playing our favourite home-grown passtime. That's right, Scotty (that bastard) and his buddy Juan Parmeasan and some chick named Alice and maybe someone else made GET OFF THAT THING! an international hot thing. Wow dudes, extreme radical fetish excitement, super-sized!

Ok this is obviously at the world famous Abbey Road. Well, probably not, I'm sure there are lots of "Abbey Road"s, but anyways, this is one. First, some introductions. The dude on the left is Nano, scotty is up on the sign, John is Jesus, Ringo is the undertaker, Paul is the corpse, and George is the gravedigger. I realy like this GET OFF THAT THING! a lot because of the sheer dynamism at play. Scotty is up on the bar, but your first inclination is to say he is up on the sign. He is in reality behind the sign, but we get the idea, and it's all good. His facial expression is a lot of "I'm on that thing, what're you going to do about it" and a litttle smugness, and really shows his experience here. He is the professional in the situation and is leading Nano through his first GET OFF THAT THING! experience. Scotty must be careful not to get too overconfident though because Nano is showing excellent promise here. He's got a damn good point; the angle of his arm and the slight motion blur give me the impression that he's beating out the syllables of GET OFF THAT THING! as he points. Very engaging. Hitler would be proud. * That said, he's stil a novice, and this shows though his body positioning. Scotty uses his body to frame the key thing in the setting while keeping his body, face, and stance open to the camera, but Nano is all wrong. Scotty is lord over his environment, but Nano lets the setting and the camera position dictate his own position. PLAYER THREE SHOULD ALWAYS BE THE LAST PLAYER TO SET UP! Nano's face is completely obscured by the side of his head and his Enrique hat, and his decision to use his right arm to point rather than the left closes up his whole body to the viewer. I do however like how his stance and Scotty's create an excellent triangular structure. Overall very exciting, they make great use of positioning, and while the shot looks a little awkward, it still has that sense of play and "fucking around" that we like to see and is overall very entertaining. Good start Nano!

Alright Scotty seriously, we've been over this, why do you send me this crap? Kids, in this photo, Scotty is not playing "The Official Game of Cool Kids Everywhere!" This is a picture of Scotty by himself, on a thing. Ha, Ha, Ha, just like the mushroom. Don't fucking waste my time.

Alright I guess this is pretty cool 'cause Nano is up on the Brooklyn Bridge and Scotty is pointing at him. Scotty's hands are really blurry and maybe they need to tone down the motion in the pointing a bit. Just a suggestion, it seems to be a problem. Nano is doing the rock and roll hand signal, which seems like a bit of an attention grab. He's already being pointed at, and it's just not right for the game. You're playing GET OFF THAT THING!, not the fratarded dude sneaking in the background of the Girls Gone Wild Spring Break Video "Iowa State WOOOOOh! Titties!! WOOOH!" Scotty we already talked about body position, and I think you know what you're doing wrong here. The deal is personally I'm really afraid of bridges. They fuck me up. I can't get on a bridge and look down. The worst is being stopped on, oh, say the Ambassador Bridge from Windsor when you're on a BUS, and the traffic isn't moving at all, there is no escape, and it's really windy and you can see right down the side of the bridge over the rail 'cause the bus is so high. Even when it gets moving it still sucks 'cause you're going to Detroit.

Ok this is pretty cool. So far we've seen that Scotty is better at being on things than Nano, and Nano is better at pointing and saying GET OFF THAT THING! than Scotty. The lighting isn't great here but that's not their fault. This picture was taken at the mansion from the final level of Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne. (Anyone? Mikey maybe?) Nano's stance is simple and a bit understaded, but therein lies the elegance. He's having a good time, which is what this game is all about. Scotty's waving his hat over his head but we need to remember he's been in Europe for a while so we can't blame him for that.

Alright admittedly it's hard to find girls who are great at GET OFF THAT THING! (That's why I got Brie, and I'm keeping her!). It's the same as it is with Yorkie bars, it's just a little too intense for them to handle. Also generally girls are more scared to get on things. Ok, so it's just a fire hydrant, but damn, did Alice get on that thing! This is Alice, by the way. Hi Alice. I think she is sleeping with Scotty. Or not, maybe just a female friend. It's hard to tell from GET OFF THAT THING! pictures. Anyway, She is really on that fire hydrant! Wowies! This is Scotty pointing, you can tell because it looks like that is Willem Dafoe's hand, and Scotty's hands always look like Willem Dafoe's hands.

By this point you can tell that the Scotland GET OFF THAT THING! crowd is getting really good. But I think they may have brought in a ringer. Who is this chick? Now I definately can't tell who Scotty is sleeping with. A little clarification here please? Is this just Alice in a different coat? Fuck. Well whoever she is, she has the look of a seasoned pro. Look at that beautiful finger extension, arm angle and the forward lean in the torso. She wants Nano to GET OFF THAT THING! She means business. But Nano's got his own shit going too; he's having a blast here. He's on a fucking awesome thing, and check out that facial expression! He loves being on that thing! This is really a tough one. The glow of the sign and the motion blur going on are fucking awesome. Kudos to the orchestrator**/photographer of this shot. For sure.

Oh yes they are getting better. I think this is still Nano here, and he's doing a real good job now with the pointing. He's got open body position and nice, full arm extension for the point. Again, Hitler would be proud. Notice how much influence the setting has on this game. Scotty doesn't need to do rock n' roll hands or wave his StrungOut cap around for us to notice him, 'cause his human colouring is in excellent contrast to the area around him. Where the fuck are they anyway? The technodrome? Oh wait, there's a souvenir shop; it's probably a big church or something. Actually... this reminds me a lot of the 10/01/2001 Skydome GET OFF THAT THING!... Hmm...

Yeah here's another good one. Scotty and Nano went to the Arch de Triomphe and Scotty was just all chillin' out max and relaxin' all cool but then Nano came along and said GET OFF THAT THING! He could vary his pointing technique a bit here, but yeah. Scotty has had that hat FOREVER. I'm thinking of making him buy a new hat when he comes to Toronto. He takes really good care of them. He had the Florida Panthers hat for eleven years, and this one is going on fifteen. But I digress. You've got to watch out for these guys, they're good, and they're coming to your neighbourhood. If your neighbourhood is in Scotland.

THE WINNER: "Reduce Speed Now"
RUNNER-UP: "Abbey Road"

Scotty gets a bonus point for sending in GET OFF THAT THING! pictures.
Calvin gets a bonus point for guessing the second of my cereals that have "Crunch" in the name (finally). It was "Two Scoops Crunch". I considered not giving him any points since it had been so long and I finished the cereal and threw out the box a while ago, but I don't want to be a dick. He's out of the hole now.

*Hitler was frighteningly good at STEIGEN Sie VON JENEM DING AB! I know, it doesn't quite have the same ring.
**My blog, my rules, Jess.

He says: "phoenix"... "pegasus"

2006-03-19T21:24:00.001-05:00

No matter how fucking awesome you remember it being, Alpha-Geti sucks. About two-thirds of the way through the can I stopped chewing the noodles with hopes that the still-whole alphanoodles would spell something illuminating, come the time of what at that point seemed like an inevitable churling episode. As of 9:30pm, that hasn't happened, but I imagine if it had the noodles would have spelled something like:

"DON'T EAT ALPHA-GETI"

Alpha-Geti are all capital letters. Is that kind of rude? No, you say, they are noodles, manners are foreign to them. Well they seem to have developed some capacity for language, being themseles the manifest form of the most basic linguistic structure, of course of written language. Manners, and this particular brand of such which represents this conduct at its utmost disrepute, rudeness, are born out of speech patterns, not written language. However, the form of rudeness under examination here is textual, at least in terms of the medium by which it delivers, but although knowing this, we must be mindful of the grounds on which "all-caps" is deemed "rude" - it is read as electronic "shouting", which is a parat of spoken language. The tomato-y stuff in the can isn't called "Phenome-Geti", so it can't be intentionally rude. If anyone followed that, you get bonus points, you just have to claim them. And I have some communication theory books to lend you.

I started to write like Jose Saramago for a bit there. If anyone ever accuses you of using too many run-on sentences, just say you're dropping some stream-of-consciousness on their area and start evasively referencing Tom Wolfe and James Joyce. And Jose Saramago. Oh, lordy Jose Saramago. I said that the previous paragraph was stylistically similar to his prose... but really, if he wrote it there would have been maybe, oh, one period in the whole thing? Instead of my, like, seven? Seven? Six? I'm not counting them. Whatever. It's something like six or seven.

Here are my summer reading prescription to everyone who is not me and has a tolerance for "alternative" punctuation styles, and is open to a bit of a mindfuck:

Jose Saramago - "All The Names"
Jose Saramago - "Blindness"

and a bit more in the shallow end of things

Dave Eggers - "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius"

ALSO:
I hope William Shatner never dies.

It's what we're all thinking...

2006-03-02T22:57:00.000-05:00

I tend to give weird looks to Jess.

Astonishment. Bewilderment. Quizzicality. "Can you repeat that?"

BLAST FROM THE PAST!!! BOOOM!

2006-03-01T12:03:00.000-05:00

I've been getting thousands and thousands of emails asking about the history of GET OFF THAT THING! So I thought I'd appease all of you and post up some nostalgia. Most GET OFF THAT THING!s weren't documented, hence the addition of the disposeale camera rule. The few that were lucky enough to be documented are priceless though...

Alright this one was taken on October 1, 2001. Calvin and Mikey and Josh Zaslow kidnapped Tristan and I and took us to Toronto for the Ben Folds concert. It kicked ass. Before the show we got pumped up by playing GET OFF THAT THING! at the motherfucking SKYDOME. Back when it was called the Skydome, and back when we didn't live here so we could do touristy things. This is an extremely ambitious GET OFF THAT THING! Calvin is that little dude way up on the platform there. You might want to click on the picture and zoom in to catch the little nuances. I like that Calvin is looking skyward, completely oblivious to Tristan down below telling him to GET OFF THAT THING! I realy like Tristan's technique here. This is why he is one of the originals and still one of the best. Square shoulders, open stance, fucking nice pointing extension. Strong, solid body language.

Josh Zaslow got on a water fountain near the Skydome that same day. Later in life he grew to despise GET OFF THAT THING!, and maybe this photo explains why. He is obviously shocked and scared by Mikey's very agressive GET OFF THAT THING! It's a bit much, and maybe Zaslow didn't deserve this, but it's still a good GET OFF THAT THING! from Mikey. It's an intense game, and sometimes our emotions get the better of us.

Late fall, 2001. I was on some weird go-kart thing in Calvin's driveway, trying to ride it like a skateboard. Calvin took the picture and tole me to GET OFF THAT THING! Why would I want to GET OFF THAT THING!? Look at how much fun I was having!
Oh, youth.

This one is from our retarded road trip to Gatineau, Que. in March 2002. Everyone is probably pretty solidly stoned in this picture. Well, let's see - early 2002, March Break, Quebec, Kyle was with us - yep, we're stoned. Scott has a hostage in this episode of GET OFF THAT THING! Scott is on the toilet, looking suprisingly bewildered and innocent, wearing his long-lost "Liquor Barn" hat. Mikey's positioning here is great as he tells Scott to "GET OFF THAT THING!" Mikey's use of levels makes Scott's perch seem much higher, and thus more imminently in need of getting off of. Mikey is captured in mid-speech here which is strangely a rarity in GET OFF THAT THING! pictures.
Calvin is not telling Scott to GET OFF THAT THING!, contrary to what you might assume. Notice he is not pointing. Calvin's is not playing the game, he is genuinely concerned for the well-being of Scott's hostage, the Mr. Bean doll. That doll arrived under Calvin's Christmas tree the previous year. "To Calvin and his friends. Love Santa."

Remember when Mr. Bean got an e-mail account and sent everyone that scary and offensive e-mail? That was weird, eh? Well, here's the secret.
It was Scotty all along.
The walrus was Paul.

GET OFF THE INTERNET!! APK-47

2006-02-26T23:53:00.001-05:00

I'm back and I'm black. Devotees will notice that there's been a bit of a lull in my blogpotence lately. I've had a lot going on and part of that entailed me leaving town.

Back to London for part of good ol' "Reading Week". My father did not know how to purchase or set up a computer so I went back to do that stuff for him, as well as to see some VIP's of the London scene...

The following happened on the unstoppable London, Ontario Tuesday night, the night that dreams are made of!! I apologize for the picture quality... These were developed by "Stacy" at the Wal-Mart photo centre.

I rolled over to Calvin's parent's crib at 41 Lloyd Manor Crescent in London, Ontario to start the evening. We were going to head down to the Alex P. Keaton later, so we proceeded to get pre-drunk and brainstorm ideas for the evening.

I had an idea. It wasn't great... After a few minutes of deliberation, we decided instead to ressurect an old classic. GET OFF THAT THING! Get off that thing! is a game of our invention circa 2001. Basically, in order to play, you need two or more people (three or more is best, but it can be played with two), climbing skills, pointing skills, and photo-taking skills. Player one finds a thing, and gets on it. Player two points at player one and says, clearly and commandingly, "get off that thing!". Player two or player three document the event using a preferably disposeable camera. This night's "GET OFF THAT THING!" was dedicated to Josh Zaslow.

Calvin demonstrates, with the assistance of his sister Tess, who was more than glad to leave her math homework and Winter Olympics viewing to play GET OFF THAT THING!

At the Alex P. Keaton. This picture is included for clarity's sake. Despite what appears to be an obvious instance of GET OFF THAT THING!, there is no such activity going on here. Calvin is merely on a thing. That is all. Just making sure you're still following.

We needed reinforcements. It's hard to play GET OFF THAT THING! with only two people.

Our good buddy dayn came along after work and brought with him Alex Dodd, recent refugee of far reaches of space galaxy. Here Alex Dodd and Calvin show the camera how many middle fingers they have. That's right, Alex Dodd has NO middle fingers.*

Brie had been pounding Martinis back at the bar with the highest "who gives a fuck what we call it" quality in London, The Martini Bar. She dragged her friend Danielle down to the APK to enjoy the lovely atmosphere.

Oh now that's what I'm talking about! Dayn got us going by getting on the neighbour's table. Alex Dodd said "GET OFF THAT THING!" like a champ and exhibited excellent locked-elbow full-extention pointing technique. Calvin snuck in for the Klingon point like the Kelly Gruber he is, but he made up for his attempted glory stealing by displaying uncanny point-parrallelism with Alex.

I got on the window. I think this is a pretty good one because Dayn is telling me to GET OFF THAT THING!, but oh, the irony! I was using Dayn for support the whole time! Also, I need to say, this is kind of a half-assed point. His whole body language is wrong. I just don't believe Dayn in his heart truly wants me to get off that thing. He is better at getting on things than he is at telling people to get off them. I'd rather get off that thing than get off your mom, Dayn!

Danielle did not want to be photgraphed but still wanted to play along. Her empty drink got on top of her full drink. Brie and I both said "GET OFF THAT THING!" and mixed it up a bit by simultanenously employing both overhand and underhand pointing technique. Also note again, excellent pointing parallelsim.

Ok here is a much better effort from Dayn. Notice the double-point he employed here. He is pointing at Alex Dodd to tell him to GET OFF THAT THING!, but just in case Alex was is not clear about what he is supposed to be getting off of, Dayn is also pointing at THAT THING! Brilliant. Even Calvin, a seasoned GET OFF THAT THING! pro, was stunned. I also like the severe angles on the pointing arms. Very action. Very action.

Brie and I went outside, where she delivered one of the best facial reactions to being told to GET OFF THAT THING! that I have ever seen. It looks like a deer in the headlights being told to GET OFF THAT THING!, in that case, the thing probably being the road. Right before this, she tried to get on this homeless guy who was drinking outside of the APK, but he didn't really understand GET OFF THAT THING!, and he thought we were trying to kick him off of the patio, and then he started telling us that it was his birthday, and then he got kicked off the patio for real by a bouncer. Happy Birthday!

Then we high-fived some stop signs for a while and went home.
There is fucking nothing to do in London.
It's really good to be back in Torono.
But GET OFF THAT THING! is the game of the gods.

The next morning I ate english muffins in Brie's parents' kitchen while we killed the roll of photos. I was talking to Tristan on the phone about how Alex Dodd doesn't have any middle fingers.
"Isn't that fucked?" I said.
"Uh, are you sure about that?", replied Tristan.
"Yeah man, I have photographic evidence"
"Wow, ok. I'll see you tonight then, later."
"Goodbye, friend."

And that was the last time I heard from Tristan. May he rest in peace.

*Damn I wish I could have put captions like that in my High School yearbook. Wait, I guess I could have. Fuck.

bobble-head steve jobble-head

2006-02-15T00:43:00.001-05:00

So for some strange reason I find myself really really really really intrigued about the new Outkast album. Is this strange? For me, yes. It was supposed to come out today, too. But now it's in March. I know they are doing this to fuck with me.

Also in the department of "for some strange reason" I am downloading the new Matchbook Romance album. I can imagine it's nothing but crappy crap crap, but I like to give new albums by bands I once liked at least one spin before tossing them in the junker (Metric, anyone?). The stars totally aligned for MR this time: Valentines Day falls on a tuesday this year (that's new CD day, for all you 99cents/song types), and the name of their band has the word "romance" in it. I'll bet they think they're really clever for capitalizing on that one.

I know so many people depend on this blog for music suggestions and my iPod was out of juice today and yesterday so I'm a little bitter like "if I can't listen to good music that I like why should I tell other people about good music, who probably don't even read this and defiately don't care".

But FUCK IT i'll give it a shot:

Basic Cadence - "This Side UP"
Jesus - "B.I.B.L.E. Mixtapes part 2: Street Noize"
the Beatles

FUCK YOU

ear massage

2006-02-09T17:18:00.000-05:00

I love the new Belle & Sebasitan record to death and it's probably what Jesus would listen to if he was an indie kid ("Dude, this Kid 606 is so fucking mindblowing - hey pass the bong - you won't tell my dad, right?"), but I've got to admit I listened to it like eleventy times in the past five days 'cause I'm an idiot with no foresight like that. Now I need to give it some rest for a week or so. So we have a reccomendation from the vaults today, I slipped it into the blog discretely a while back but it never really had a proper share of the limelight. It's one of those under-the-radar albums that you have forever and you don't listen to all that much but after a coupe years it's like "Oh hey, you, good to see you" and you realize that it really was one of your favourite albums all along, and you go spin around in a meadow and blow the puffy things off the dandelions and spoon and think about how you'd like to buy the world a Coke. Kind of like how I feel about the At the Drive-In album, or Blur's "13". A little. Anyways today I reccomend, from front to back:

The Sleepy Jackson - "Lovers"

paging dr. quinn

2006-02-09T11:29:00.000-05:00

The new glasses continue to reveal the hidden wonders of my environment to me. Chinatown is always a visual spectacle and their signage is especially noteworthy. Although I've always been aware of some humorous head-scratchers along the Queen - College strip ("Spadina Fruits & Fruits"), I've recently been able to pick out some smaller typefaces from the safety of my fish-market-odour-proof 510 streetcar. Today:

"PETE SAMPRAS FURS"

Two problems:

ONE: I am approximately 96% sure that retired international tennis superstar and former Wimbledon Champion Pete Sampras neither owns, operates, or endorses a Fur Merchant in Toronto's Chinatown. I must admit though, that this is a possibility; I'm really not sure what Mr. Sampras is doing with himself post-tennis. I strongly suspect it involves supermodels and Bentley's, yahting and champagne, and P. Diddy shows up in there somewhere, 'cause he likes to stick his nose into everything, 'cause he's P. Diddy and he's like that.

TWO: Pete Sampras is not Chinese. I will ask Lisa Chau (my go-to consultant for all matters Chinese and haircuts) for confirmation of this, but I'm pretty gosh darn sure.

the blacks will be white and the whites will be black but the blues are still blue

2006-02-07T22:36:00.002-05:00

Marshall McLuhan. I find him dizzying, but I'm really starting to understand it; I must say he's growing on me. That said, I must finish and understand his "Laws of Media: The New Science" book in time to write a paper on it for 3pm tomorrow.

So I just went to get a coffee. The Queen & Augusta Second Cup is warm, and probably the only open thing between my apt. and Spadina that's not a vegan joint or a bar.

Along the way:

I love having glasses. I can see so much more of everything. But it's kind of unsettling to see how many people look at me as I go. Maybe it's 'cause I'm looking at them. I don't know

I want laser eye surgery.

There are lesbians making out in the window of the Tequila Bookworm (vegan joint).

The dude that sells all the crap on the sidewalk in front of his "gallery" (not a vegan joint or a bar) is still open at 1045 on a cold Tuesday night.

Imagine one of those stupid patterned polar fleece court-jester hats breeding with a Native American headdress. There is a dude smoking and wearing the offspring of that unholy union in front of Epicure.

Back at the ranch, some business:

Today it was bright and sunny, I was wearing an awesome gift from a special person and the new Belle and Sebastian album came out. If you do not love it, you do also do not love the following: life, hooks, rhymes, joy, feeling the silky air across your body, and the first line of the Tragically Hip's "Something On"*. Therefore, today's reccomendation, a reccomendation which supercedes all preceeding reccomendations (excepting Balls):

Belle & Sebastian - "The Life Pursuit"

On a heavier note:
Something died under my care today. I feel really fucking horrible about it, because it was a friend of mine in a special way, and it meant something to someone close to me in a special way. Details to follow shortly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

* "Your imagination's having puppies..."

i'm glad there's no tax on quotation marks

2006-02-02T22:24:00.000-05:00

You run!

You slide!

You hit the jump -

AND TAKE A DIVE!

Great, now that that's out of the way, we can get down to business. First off, old business: let's review the minutes from last meeting. Regarding my previous music recomendation of the "Sun Sun Sun" record by The Elected. Do not listen to this album if you are a fan of Rilo Kiley, especially their excellent recent effort "More Adventurous". The Elected is Rilo Kiley member Blake Sennett, and his record is a carbon copy of "More Adventurous"; the vocals decidedly less sexy than those of Rilo Kiley frontwoman Jenny Lewis. Don't know about you, but I'd rather listen to the real thing.

Also in the Rilo Kiley department, and speaking of Jenny Lewis, do not listen to Jenny Lewis' new solo album, "Rabbit Fur Coat". It is mall-store Neko Case for those more inclined to Dolly Parton than Joanna Newsome. Balls!

Therefore, today, I reccomend the following:

Rilo Kiley - "More Adventurous"
Neko Case - "The Tigers Have Spoken"
Balls! - "Balls!"

Ok, on to today's agenda:

I saw the most inspiring liscence plate slogan I have ever seen today.
Washington D.C.: "Taxation Without Representation". In your face, "Virginia is for Lovers", and "Je me souviens"! "Taxation Without Representation" is one balsy liscence plate, I'm telling you. Basically the story is this: The District of Columbia is a United States Territory, but not a state, in much the same way as Puerto Rico, and lots of those other little doormat countries. Like citizens of other states, D.C. denziens are fully taxed and are eligible for the draft and other regulations, but they have no voting representation in congress. So the municipal government issues some lovely smart-assed stick-it-to-the-man liscence plates. Whoo! They're trying to get "Taxation Without Representation" added to the District's flag as well.

In his last year in office, Big Billy Clinton had all the White House limousines fitted with the "Taxation Without Representation" plates. Dubya took them off while Bill's chair was still warm.

always save the title for last

2006-01-26T23:21:00.000-05:00

Huh. Blogging 'cause I can't concentrate on James Joyce right now.

First of all, listen to these new albums:

In-Flight Safety - "the coast is clear"
The Elected - "sun sun sun"
Cat Power - "the greatest"

I know you're probably hearing about the Cat Power album from everyone and you're kind of like "alright, enough already, geez, i'll get the fucking Powercat album - just get out of my face". But seriously. Ignore the fact that your boss, priest, grandmother and gynocologist are rocking "The Greatest" on their nano's, swallow your pride and pick it up. Or download it, if you're a human errectile dysfunction like that.

So yes, I went a perfect three for three at the HMV today. Thank you, Yonge& Dundas superstore for carrying fucking everything. Actually, no, I rescind my afformentioned gratitude. You did not have the new disc by The Beatings.

*Ahem

Dear HMV Yonge & Dundas Superstore,

It has come to my attention that you do not stock the new album by The Beatings, "Holding on to Hand Grenades". You are not out of stock, the filing card does not even exist in your racks. I am disappointed. Please correct this obvious error for my purchasing and listening pleasure.

In Conclusion,
Mark Homer

Alright I guess that sort of works for Mikey, so here's hoping it works for me too.
In the meantime, if anyone knows where I can get this cd, let me know, or if you're a fucking culture terrorist and you downloaded it... send it to me?

THANKS INTERNET

you really gave those lizards the business

2005-10-16T03:37:00.000-04:00

Happy birthday party Calvin. Sorry I had to leave, but if you be my Original Gangster I'll be your Original Monster.

Also:

- -- - --ANNOUNCEMENT -- -- -

October 28 2005

We will drink to forget our problems
We will dance to forget our feet
We will wear costumes to forget who we are

the time is here for the halloween cheer
the non-costumed will be ridiculed
the naked will be forgeven for being non-costumed

at the crypt of mark julia vanessa
call txt msn or email for details / confirmation that you are invited

our place is pretty elevated so it thankfully escaped the wrath of rita and katrina

the sun is the moon / water chestnut / rise rise rise

2005-10-15T16:34:00.000-04:00

My hands smell like vitamins. Could be worse, I guess.

Rediscovered my love of this city when it's totally asleep again last night. 5-6am is a strange other world here. Toronto is subject to a lot of NYC comparisons, but one of the things that sets us apart is that this city goes to bed eventually. As bustling as we are, we're still good canucks at heart and we know when to have our cider and tuck into the flannel. Or at least most of us do.

Important decisions are usually the hardest to make. And they're never as clear as they should be. Even the ultimately correct choice might be difficult to swallow. But you know this, whoever you are, and apparently there are people out there reading this. That's weird. Go read something worthwhile, people! There are four other, interesting blogs hyperlinked in the sidebar over there ------->

Anyways, yeah. Decisions. Questions. Here are some of those: Are friendships like investments? Or relationships of any kind? Does that make me a horrible person for asking that? Buy low, sell high? I'm not at all saying that I subscribe to this philosophy, just raising the point, that's all.
Are some people just good to have in your portfolio? Do these investments mature overe time?

Wow, I kind of want to punch myself in the balls for even thinking that paragraph. Alright, hate it/me if you want, for the sake of e-honesty I'm not deleting it.

i guess you have to know the rules before you can break them...

paper bag lung effect

2005-09-28T12:57:00.000-04:00

Saturday morning missed buses and trains out of town and a Friday night that left me with no real reason to flee.

But you were wrong about me.
You were wrong about me.

How deep did I go? How numb can one person get?

twitch city

2005-09-25T21:23:00.000-04:00

Hello Toronto, let's get down.
So I think I'm dying, or I have parkinsons or one of my body, soul and mind is rejecting the two remaining elements, or I need to lay off the Indian food for a while, or some combination of the above options. I feel like complete fucking physically negative shit. The twitching... muscle spasm-ing is happening more frequently, much more frequently in the past couple days, and frankly it's starting to freak me out a little. I'm starting to notice a few factors in the twitching increasing, or in the case of this weekend, rising to a disturbing delirium tremen level at a family dinner. Lack of sleep, crazy stimulants, alcohol, withdrawl from those two, temperature change.... and maybe some psychological factors.

I know that our subconscious minds, and probably our post-conscious minds are very active in colouring our physical condition, emotions, mood, aura, interactions... pretty much everything. And outside positive and negative social and socialemotional forces have a huge fucking effect, on some people more than others. Sometimes I'm a big fucking ball of emotional osmosis. Not as much anymore as I used to be... Another one of the ways we harden as we grow up. More worldly and open yes, but also more protective of my own oil on canvas mood mural... subtle tones of fragility and wonder fill the space and drip onto the floor.

Yes, I know post-conscious isn't really a thing, in the sense of things being things, and things being what they are... It's a new term i just invented just now... so if you're not familiar, it makes sense to me, so don't worry about it, ok? And before you fucking text me about it, I already know that I throw "post" around a lot as a prefix... And yes, I understand the semantic irony implicit in "post"'s use as a prefix.

(Ha ha! Words are my friends. Streetcar, Tylenol Ultra Relief, Full-Throttle Energy Drink, Five Star 3'x5' Notebook, Words - you guys are all on my Christmas card list)

Along those lines, yes, I know socialemotional isn't really a real term either, in the sense of a term being a linguistic element, not an end-user-defined temporal unit, and end-user-defined temporal units being what they are. But I believe we communicate with our emotions as well as our words and our actions. Communication works like this. I think. Bear with me:

If the communication an action, it will be interpreted into language.
Linguistic communication is an expression of intent or emotion, in some form of one or the other, and is interpreted as such.
Emotional communication... Is something that I'm working slowly on trying to understand... But emotional communication is non-verbal, does not involve an action or a gesture, and is fucking crazy to try to comprehend, but it exists, so fuck you. Somehohw, through the powers that are present in this universe, and between all of us, emotions are transmitted and received and it sometimes we know it's happening but most of the time we don't. There are many different levels and degrees of emotional communication, but that's a whole different blog entry.
Emotional communication is interepreted, if you can, and absorb it, as pure MEANING.
And meaning is fucking cocaine for your mind/spirit/body value meal.

Alright, I had somewhere I intended on going with this entry when I started it... That clearly got lost along the way. And I'm not sure what I found instead. Anyways, the plan is to not feel like junkie shit tomorrow. So no indian food. Simple, mayonnaise-based dishes are the order of the day. And possibly pitas. Probably pitas.

Flip the switch and let the words drip, let them fall out and pool and puddle together into what ever the words themselves desire.

Please send money,
Sanchez

2005-09-17T22:46:00.000-04:00

----- IN LOVING MEMORY OF CALVIN JAMES COLES -----
"We know you're watching over us little buddy"

i heard jack johnson got airplaned in the ass with a surfboard

2005-09-17T21:35:00.000-04:00

Alright, sit down and listen. Common language is now officially post-grammar. Grammar is fun and everything, but it's relevance to the average person right now is on a "know-your-cuts-of-meat" kind of level. Knowing language rules is like being able to match the McDay to the McDeal. Interesting, sometimes useful, but ultimately, honestly, pretty fucking useless. A couple years ago people were getting all freaked out about the evolutionary path of our language... Given that language naturally conforms to the rules and nature of the dominant medium in which it is used... hold on, did I lose anyone? I think i lost myself there, tripped over the thematic thread running through this paragraph - Ok we're back. ...naturally conforms to the the rules and nature of the dominant medium in which it is used, everyone was like "Whoa, the internet is going to fuck up our speech and spelling!!" Well no. Didn't happen. People aren't dropping lol's and brb's into their usualy discourse and vowels haven't been added to the endangered species list (here's some now, just to prove how abundant they are, that i can waste them like this: aeiousometimesy raaaaaape meeeeeee).

The fact is this: I understand what you're saying, even if your grammer is all fucked in the face. Yeah i know grammar inside-fucking-out... i know my grammar better than i know performance athletic apparel for fucking sakes. And I have lucid dream conversations with animated pieces of performance athletic apparel. Btw you should never start a sentence with a conjunction like that. And don't be sad, oh no don't cry dear it's not that bad. This isn't the decline of the english language. This is the way the language is going to be in today's (buzzword warning) multicultural, media-driven, marykateandashleyolsen global village. Oh dude i feel really dirty after letting those terms out into the bloggosphere. Ewwwwww typing blogosphere didn't help.

K check it here's the upside. Are you still listening? Do you have soothing music on? Might I suggest the "Lovers" album by The Sleepy Jackson? I might. Dude, this is an age of magical potential for linguistic innovation. We're talking, like, a litter of puppies being breastfed by a teenaged Pierre Berton level of magical potential. Notice how many words have been made up recently? All the fucking time new ones are appearing. The lines between parts of speech are dissolving. Try it for yourself: take your favourite noun, use it as a verb! Wasn't that fun! Use someone's name as a verb! An adverb! Whatever! Let your participles dangle! Dangle it out there for everyone to see! It's the nineties bitch! Dope homies are dropping prefixes and suffixes all over the shizzle!

What are your favorite words? Want to have fun with them? Let's have a nice chat.

we ain't got no place to go... let's go to the hip-hop (?) show

2005-09-16T02:38:00.000-04:00

The Notwist + Themselves = 13 & God

At points I had to close my eyes because I could more comfortably understand the music as a disembodied, sourceless dark force eminating from the speakers than as the live creation of the five people onstage.

biscuits la menagerie

2005-06-28T00:01:00.000-04:00

So I guess I'm blogging again. Something compelled me to... I realized that this is an outlet that I might need. There's a lot I can do in my head (some who know me will say that I do too much in my head), but occasionally I can only make sense of things by writing them down and getting them out of my mental space. Like once it's out there, I can look at the thought objectively, and see what it means to me.
Been feeling the need to write more. I started writing on little scraps of receipt paper at work today. Again, just the pressing need to expunge the thought, get it out of my brain and onto the paper. It's a lot like blowing my nose. A LOT like blowing my nose actually. There was a dude looking at some track pants on the other side of the rack I was sribbling against. It struck me as I was writing that what I was doing was so starkly intimate, and surrounded on all sides by public pedestrian shopping space... Trackpants guy had no fucking idea what was going on, but he was so physically close to it. That's a hopelessly inadequate summation of the tension I felt at the moment, but suffice to say that if Trackpants happened to cross over to my side of the rack and read my little slip, we would both have been slapped in the face stunned bucket of cold water on the bed deer in the headlights.

I hope Mikey keeps his blog going. It's pretty entertaining. "Although Mr. Clean was not, in fact a real person, he was modeled after a rugged sailor. Thank you for your interest". Or something.

Finding Roaches in the Pot.

It's good. It's good. Jess's blog is also good, but everyone already goes there. On that note, since no one reads this, that link above is probably no good to Mikey at all. Fuck

.... To be continues

thirty-three seconds of an interrupted stream of broken consciousness

2005-06-24T19:58:00.000-04:00

trying to make sense but really grasping at ghosts
more i try to avoid it the more it hurts and the more i try to attack it the more it hurts
i don't even want to use a pronoun here
that pronoun is laden with so much meaning and significance and identity
i don't even remember before
i don't remember how to exist
i can't get my head around what it is that i might have to do

and what i want to say here i can't
i just can't

please

i don't think anyone is reading this, but if you are, i'm sorry, i couldn't find a pen

doggles, the dog who wore goggles

2005-05-13T02:14:00.000-04:00

On some parallel plane of the multiverse travelling through time on a path so similar to our own as to be nearly undistinguishable, giant graceful millipedes take the place of streetcars. Cyclists worry not about wheels being lodged in streetcar tracks, but losing traction on filmy giant millipede trails.

The millipedes glide along. They are graceful. They drift like air hockey pucks with a purpose.

I stood against the window opposite the door. Standing frees up a seat for the elderly, pregnant, tired, lazy, or less-bi-pedal-ly-inclined individuals than myself. The millipede pulls to a stop at the city corner on the beautiful day in the beautiful sunshine next to a church. I watch the church doors as they open for the Man of God to pass through. All the the passengers silently attend as six old men carry one old man in one wooden box follow the Man of God down the steps into the sunlight. The millipede is deathly still and all heads aboard are oriented towards the procession. No one speaks, and we have transcended all spatial, social and temporal barriers to become participants rather than the ultimate passers-by.

This drive-thru sentimentality continues until the light changes and the millipede floats forward. I consider inventing a car wash for your heart, with a Turtle Wax compassion applicator. I contemplate the appeal of "Car Wash for your Heart" as a band name. Also that of "Turtle Wax compassion applicator".

Before leaving the stop the passengers of the millipede are joined by a friend of the man in the box. The air gets heavier when he boards. Seconds before, every pair of eyes were fixed on the funeral, but no one will meet this man's gaze. The immediacy is too much. It was comfortable and distanced and African Lion Safari and everyone's llittle moment of humanity and hollywood-mortality-contemplation-lite for the day until he boarded the millipede like a sperm into an egg and the air became pregnant with guilt and sadness.

He smelled like death and hospital, like Old Spice and regret.

He went out the doors ahead of me, to transfer to the subway. He moved down the stairs slowly. I think he could have moved faster, he looked spry enough. But underground was a place he wasn't keen on rushing to. The first old man from the church on the city corner in the sun to enter the ground that day took one step at a time and held his breath.

When the world starts spinning so fast and you feel so small and you have to fall. Collapse on the ground and dig in your fingers and hold on... not to fall off into space.

2005-04-26T03:04:00.000-04:00

Scott. Can you go to Scotland? ("Scott"land, you see this?) I need you to pick up something for me if you can. I'll write you an e-mail to remind you. K, I need you if you can to take a picture of Larry Mullen and The Edge from U2. Please no Bono; if he tries to squeeze himself into the picture please ask Mr. Bono to excuse himself, "because we're trying to take a photo here". If he is persistent you may try a clever tactic to dupe him and draw him away from the spotlight: Ask if he would mind holding the camera and taking the picture of you with Larry Mullen and The Edge, who after all, are minor celebrities that you have just met for the first time. Note: You do not have to be in the picture. As a matter of fact, I would prefer a picture containing only Larry Mullen and The Edge. If you wish, the option does exist to take a second photo containing yourself. Please come prepared with a "Sharpie" marker and have ONE of either Larry Mullen or The Edge write the following on the photo:

Stay Fresh,

Larry Mullen and The Edge

2005-04-07T19:10:00.000-04:00

I know, Saddam is sooooo 2004, but nigga can SPIT some serious flames. The MIXTAPE drops soon mthrfkrs. Y'all, all y'all?

actual events!!!

2005-04-05T02:08:00.000-04:00

MARK: So Tom I'm thinking I might want to start a blog.

TOM: And what is a blog.

MARK: You know, a blog. All the cool people have one.

TOM: Yeah, well all the cool people are getting hit by a bus.