This is my home

This is my home during spring.
This is Calgary,
A city of lust and industry,
A city of dust and misery.

Rated first place people want to live, rated last place people want to die.

Reading Glasses

I got my optometrist to check me up yesterday. Nothing spectacular, besides my usual farsightedness over par (20:10 vision up to about 4 feet in front of me). I got my reading glasses adjusted, so they fit my rather crooked nose.

Reading, however, is something that I haven't been doing a lot of. I've chewed through about every book in my house worth reading (some more than once), and I've realized that my choice genre for books (fantasy sci-fi) has run about dry for stuff that interests me. Maybe its time to get into the political literature?

On top of that, I'm increasingly having to deal with self-absorbed twerps who think the world revolves around them. Call it a byproduct of freedom, but when trying to deal with people like this, it's impossible to hold them accountable, because they have the freedom to just "walk away" from something they don't like.

On top of that, we now have religious figures in Canada railing against equal rights for homosexuals. When confronted by those of equal or greater zeal than themselves, rather than hiding behind their considerable blanket of religious morals, they instead claim that it is their right to free religion that allows them to hate a minority group. Be that as it may, the choice of religion is a personal one, but once somebody takes that, and espouses it as if it should be law, that is no longer just freedom of speech. That is a broadcast, and the content of the message can be subject to anti-hate laws, and civil suits citing libel or slander.

All high and mighty, these people make my feel like I should don a white gown and crow from the top of a chapel: "I'm the Queen of France!"

And when somebody comes to call me down, I'll verbally assault them until they leave me alone.

Or perhaps, people should just keep their opinions to themselves, and keep their egos in the closet, rather than their sexual orientation. I look forward to the day when being an arrogant asshole is less fashionable than being a homosexual.

Spring, like a Spring, Sprang.

Spring hit today with the force of a hurricane. Temperatures went from -10 degrees cent. 72 hours ago to a balmy 14 degrees today. Blue sky, sun, occasionaly showers. Yep, its a pleasant change...

Not that any of you faithful readers would know, your absent-minded host forgot to get his camera out today to photograph the wonderful weather. He is now kicking himself profusely, so rest assured, such idiocracy won't go unpunished.

I've now pushed my way through the bulk of the remaining assignments, with only a major photo, a court story, and another feature down the road, it should be smooth sailing from here... provided that my contact(s) get back to me about publishing photos.

Waaagh, what a week... and everyone just seems to be rubbing it in that I'm an unemployed, single white guy, with little to look forward to except maybe another round at education, and a half-logical intellect. Huzzah.

Blast it to the depths of bloody hell!

Well, looking back, I can see that my easter break was a complete and utter loss. I have done nothing except finish my feature article. I didn't even get to take pictures this weekend, because I was on high-alert for the possibility of a family trip for the last three days.

Nothing like being told to pack up, and then not having any place to go. Agh, I'm ready to start ripping my hair out. This entire weekend has been a test for my patience, sanity, and just about everything else I have a short supply of.

On top of that, even the news seems to have gone cuccoo. The Schiavo case has turned into a circus that has the news anchors dancing jigs and chewing bananas. I sat and literally chewed through a piece of newsprint in sheer fury that something could still be breaking news after being mauled by print, broadcast, and internet media. The papers have three page spreads, and the broadcasters have 10 minute mini-updates. On top of that, the US goverment-on-high decided that they would get their hands muddy as well.

Poor woman. She probably doesn't even know that she's being treated like everything except human.

Last commentary on that subject.

Christ almighty come and rescue me, I need a vacation after a spring holiday...
What has the world come to?

Things aren't better...

...I'm only managing them better.

I'm sitting here writing my hated feature article, and hoping to God that it works better than my last few, which have been utter flops. I've got the interview(s), and I've got the location. Anything more would be overkill, and my already precarious sanity would likely break.

I went some 30 hours without a good stretch of sleep, so last night, when I finally hit the sack, I slept for 14. I felt refreshed, but not better. Life nowadays, like I said in my last post, is literally the Grinder of Souls. Enrichment and love are out. A meaningless and hollow existence is about the only choice we have in front of no existence at all.

Or perhaps there is some meaning, we just haven't found it yet.

Here's an exercise, look "Meaningful" up on Google.

You might be surprised what you find.

I still haven't forgiven yet.

Grinder of Souls

The last three weeks have kind of rolled downhill, into a large, spiky pit, with me stuck between mass of time and spiny displeasure. School has been tense, but it's likely about to consume me whole, what with a major feature assignment due and no ideas or sources to interview or dwell upon.

On top of that, this week has been a rock bottom, people wise. My girl more or less dumped me after a two week split. Two years, ended. Plans for the future, wiped. Children's names, recycled... much as the children might end up being. I'm feeling terribly jaded right now, when everything seems to go right, the silver clouds always get a black lining. Thunder cracks every now again, and I find myself questioning now, if I'm really doing the right thing with my time, and ultimately my life.

I haven't been able to pick up a pencil in over a week, and I'm worried that perhaps my inspiration has fled me for more fertile, and less unstable soils elsewhere.

Hello to you, Mr. Fox

Obviously a replica of a red fox. Once again, in the Devonian Gardens. I just emptied my card so there might be more like this one.

Boredom... it's a mind killer.

Fountains, and other Errata

One of the many fountains in the Devonian Gardens, TD Square, Calgary.

It's amazing how a simple statue can appear more complex, more intelligent, and more intimate than many of the city-goers whom we all deal with on a daily basis. We make statues to appear like us, and yet they surpass us in their quiet supremacy.

Sunrise, Sunset, Nightfall.

The joy that comes with the new sunrise is taken for granted these days, and like all things, something new and exciting should always be enjoyed to it's fullest. The start of a new day, the start of a new life, new beginnings... All the spark to the day.

The sun is up, for what seems like an eternity, and we walk underneath it, oblivious to the light around us, and upon us. Only when the sun does begin to wane, do we suddenly realize what we are losing.

When the sun touches the horizon, we know the darkness beckons, and yet we cling... to the fiery remains of the torch of daylight. We sniff after the bliss that only the light can bring, and yet, as with all things, save death and stupidity, it must come to an end.

The last wedge of light buries itself forever, we are left in the darkness, wondering if and when the sun will come to us again. That day will never return, but a new one is yet to be born.

So we sit, and wait, in the dark. Many of us will rise to greet the sun when it returns. A few will have to wait longer for the graceful light to play upon their eyes. One will forever remain in the darkness, wondering why the light does not come.

Colours of St. Patrick's Day

White, was the colour of the ground this morning. It's a tradition in Calgary that it always snows heavily on St. Patty's Day.

Green, was the colour of shirts, skirts, and beer today. Cheap dye, food colouring, and heavy draught seems to be all that celebration is today. Dress nice, grin wide, drink deep, puke hard.

Blue, was the colour of my mind today, because I'm always blue. I've been missing out, or so I think. Being socially inept, somewhat brilliant, witty, and clumsy is a disasterous combination when you want people to take you seriously. I'm an unintentional clown, kind of like the killer machine that got painted pink by mistake.

Grey, was the colour of the sky. The sky is seldom blue here in winter, and when it is, it is the blue of death, because the temperature drops sorely. Scattered flurries made life melancholy for travellers, myself included.

I can see why people turn to alcoholism, drugs, and caffeine these days. It's an escape, albeit a terrible and temporary one. We've built a world to supply us, but we hate it. We want to leave it, as fast as possible, but we want to reap the riches of it for ourselves.



And as a note, yes, this is a replacement for a picture. I was lazy today.

Simplistic

Coyote. Winter. Pathway.

The Puppeteer has ditched the Puppets

So, the Bush administration has finally decided to dispense with the middleman.

This is bad news for the media in the US. No longer are local news stations in control of what they put on the air... they don't even have the option of whether or not they air the government's broadcasts. This, of all things, is a violation of a free and seperate press. In light of how Fox News has been a little cheerleader for the Republican Machine in past years, I can't say that the change in business is too drastic, just overly disturbing.

Bush's departments have told news stations to ignore the memo saying that this, of many things, is unethical, atypical, and infringement. I don't know how many stations will or won't abide by the admin's orders. If I've learned anything, it's that American citizens have a tendency to be unpredictable... you never know what they will choose, even if it goes against common sense and logic (I'm not saying that's a bad thing, eccentricity has its time too).

In the meantime, I will continue watching this story out of the corner of my eye. That, and how Wolfowitz does on his doomsday nomination towards the World Bank, and possibly the fiscal collapse of the modern world that follows as the US tries to pay off its debt from the pockets of its debtors.

Walking Blind

You see what you want to see. If you can't make sense of what you see, your brain alters what you see until you can.

The media provides you with what you want to see, and that is all. If you want to see Iraq as a success of terrific proportions, look around. There are pictures and stories to back up your belief. If you believe that Iraq is a quagmire and a failure, there are pictures and stories to back that up to. In today's world, nothing is anything anymore. There is no black and white. There is no good, although there is most certainly evil.

Throughout it all, we are all essentially walking blind. Our eyes and ears outside our body don't show us the raw truth anymore, they show us what we want to see. That is how they make their money... by telling us what we want to hear, and showing us what we want to see. Competetive markets are like that, and that is why it is better for us to be blind and attentive, rather than clairvoyant and distracted. There is no way to sell news to somebody who is all-knowing, or at least, more in the know than the media.

What a station is broadcasting has nothing to do with it's political alignment. In the states, rivals CNN and Fox News compete head to head, and they like to slander each other with political labels. Instead what they are doing, is insulting their viewership. CNN is not liberal, they are merely selling to their audience, which may be liberal. Fox is not conservative, they just really like pandering to conservative crowds.

And yet, we blame the media for our blindness. We grow angry when our forged sword of truth no longer cuts the soul. The media is responsible for what it publishes, this is true. We could publish stories until there is no words left to speak, but if it is not something that people like to read, then we have failed, and no matter how true our paper, it will sink out of business.

The philosophy of blindness permeates all things, from religion, to politics, to war... they are all the same. The Central Powers in WWI believed that they were winning the war right up until the bitter end, and then believed that they had been backstabbed by a faceless ally (later scapegoated into the Jews by Hitler). Christianity, with all its sects, each one believing itself to be truer than its neighbor, closing themselves away from their neighbors. This is people only seeing their own righteousness, rather than opening their minds, and hearts, an accepting based on similarity, rather than dividing because of benign differences.

Hate, is perhaps the greatest blinder. People who hate blind themselves willfully, and lose their ability to see others as humans. I know many who wallow with joy in hatred for another, whether it be a person, a group, a religion, whatever. It's all the same poison. To harm another because you hate them is merely wounding yourself on a forward roll. Every injury you willfully make will hunt you until it is done tenfold to you or your ilk. Suffering is indiscriminant, and will get us all someday. It is better though, when we can see if coming.

Drag, as in Dragged

Today has taken literally forever. This morning's class was only two hours, but the seconds paraded by like soldiers on a funeral march.

School, on the whole, has eased up a bit, as we've passed the February crunch, and the doldrums have been killed by a healthy dose of spring sunshine and lunchtime activity. The weather isn't to last though, so I've brought my winter jacket back out, and am prepared for the "Freezing Thunderstorm," so to speak.

I'm just worried that the bad weather will sponsor more downtime. For the regular readers here (which are few), there has been noticable abscences in the past, and for the most part, these have been caused by my lack of initiative, stemming from winter depression and just laziness on the whole.

I would promise that I'll be here more often, but I know better. Expect more blanks when the winter returns.

At Odds with Oddity

I often think to myself as I'm walking among the well-adjusted, how little I fit in with anything. This might be a side-effect of being an individual, something that is often sought after and desired, but often, the side effects of the end result are often somewhat less desirable.

No sooner to we arrive at our own opinions, then we are told to clam up and be quiet. As a member of a democratic society, I am told to only voice my opinion when it matters, in the form of a vote, and then I am to be silent, keeping my peace, as it were, leaving matters to those who know better.

Such, is tyranny.

I must always sacrifice some of what I am, for the sake of still being an accepted member of this society. There are those who don't have to, for wherever they go, they have followers, friends, and family to support them. I would not. I am not of a mind to surround myself with people who worship me. My friends follow their own paths, and my family is almost as alien as strangers most of the time. I must speak in the most basic terms to be understood.

To be blunt, I am somewhat of an oddity.

So how does one escape being different, without losing bits and pieces of themselves? How does one abandon the individuality that is so desired from birth until death?

Atrophy

Children cry for their mothers,
the lost walk home,
the world sells to the hustlers,
like some kind of syndrome.

We walk to all four corners,
of the blue globe,
we pray to the scorners,
for some kind of hope.

I've sat too long,
my muscles are so sore.
I can't get up now,
I'm never going to be free,
from this damned atrophy.

We make war,
all around us,
We eat the poor,
and we make the rust.

We hammered our plowshares,
into swords that cut the soul,
the head falls down the stairs,
and out into the fall cold.

Our end is our beginning,
our misery is our might,
the moment we think we're winning,
we lose our only light.

I've gone on,
for such a long time,
I just want to sleep now baby,
I'm just so damned tired...

I've fought the hard fight,
I've broke the sword with pen
We've got all that stuff,
we've got all the freedom!

But we'll never be free,
from this horror atrophy.

Dusty Brown and Grey

What with all the warm weather we've been having, Alberta's been showing it's dusty side. All the snow melting has exposed all the gravel in the city of Calgary, and with hundreds of thousands of vehicles driving gravel into asphalt, it's no wonder the city was blanketed in brown all throughout the weekend.

A lot of people have been complaining about how dry it is in Alberta, but considering that the entire foothill region can, and often does, desertify, dry and dusty air is nothing new. Especially considering that 1900 to 2000 was the wettest century on record (including the dirty thirties), an extended dry spell is not to be unexpected, if not wholly welcome.

I'm tempted to design a method of travel that uses wind power, and many small wheels, to move quickly over dry, dusty grasslands. Nothing quite tickles my fancy like moving fast without moving at all.

Pictures will come later, see ya all later.