This week...
There aren't any words in the English language that are strong enough to describe this week. From work to home and home to work, there just... isn't a word. Stress is too weak.
And then there was the drive home. I've never felt closer to God than I did today coming home. I've never driven a car and felt like every bend, every motherfucking lane-change, was flirting with mortal danger. The road conditions were good, don't get me wrong. When it was just me on the road, things were great.
But add other cars to the mix... Take drive #1 for example. Driving like a drunk, paranoid woman (kidding about the woman part, only not really), this person couldn't go down a hill, no matter how slight, without tapping their brakes maybe five or ten times in rapid succession. On the up-hill parts, where the right side of the road is thoughtfully divided into two lanes for passing, said DPW-D proceeds to then straddle the two lanes, weaving dangerously between the two and accelerating, as to prevent anyone from passing and not risk life and limb to get home.
Great fun. Add a semi.
Large semi decides he's had enough trundling behind me and DPW-D (as, when we're not going up a hill, this maniac is only going 80 through meticulous use of the brakes. It's a posted 100 zone.) So he starts barrelling up the passing lane beside me. Dipshit in the car in front decides s/he's going to start straddling the lanes again, so then the semi is forced to crank on the highbeams and take immediate evasive action. I was sitting there, my windshield being blasted by thick, muddy grime off the road, mostly blind. The only sense I got was that I had four-foot tall tires looming towards my driver side door, and a car weaving dangerously in front of me.
Finger found horn, finger found highbeam switch, and five minutes later, when I finally passed the motherfucker, finger found the power window button so s/he could see said finger saluting him/her as I roared past.
I was almost tempted to take a picture when I got home. My car is so caked with road-slime that it looks like I've just finished driving it through a tour of Iraq's deserts. The only part of my car that's not completely plastered is the rear window and two streaky clear patches where my shitty windshield wipers tried in vain to improve visibility.
Anyway, I think I'm going to get some sleep. Here's hoping that numbnut in the car suffers an aneurism tonight, so that nobody has to die on the road in the near future from his/her antics. Cruel to say, but just imagine yourself in a van with your family and somebody pulls those antics. Not so cruel now, is it?
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Monday, December 25, 2006
Post Yule Charm
Well, I suppose I should update too. I'm glad Christmas has finally gotten out of the way. There, I said it. After nearly a month and a half of commercialized bullshit leading up to it, I'm glad that the 8-10 hours of Christmas day passed in relative peace. No carolers. No bells. No specials or sales. Just me and the family, and a shitload of food.
Didn't get much in the way of presents this year. Although, in a way, that's okay. I never really know what I want, and what I ended up getting this year is useful to the point that its utilitarian. So, I won't be a useless nub around the house anymore.
In other news, this week I've been pretty much a zombie. Or I was, until I got home. I've been debating some things with myself, like when I should finally get up the gusto and move. But, perhaps the most pressing thing right now is where my relational life is heading.
Edit: It's done.
I don't think I'll be updating again before new years. In fact, depending on how things go this week, I'll probably be spending most of my nights drunk out of my tree. I hate to vouch alcohol as a problem solver, but really, if the shoe fits...
Didn't get much in the way of presents this year. Although, in a way, that's okay. I never really know what I want, and what I ended up getting this year is useful to the point that its utilitarian. So, I won't be a useless nub around the house anymore.
In other news, this week I've been pretty much a zombie. Or I was, until I got home. I've been debating some things with myself, like when I should finally get up the gusto and move. But, perhaps the most pressing thing right now is where my relational life is heading.
Edit: It's done.
I don't think I'll be updating again before new years. In fact, depending on how things go this week, I'll probably be spending most of my nights drunk out of my tree. I hate to vouch alcohol as a problem solver, but really, if the shoe fits...
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Narcoleptic Insomnia
I guess my body's still resisting the switch from living at night.
I was making rice today, and decided to sit down on a couch in the living room to wait while it cooked. The next thing I knew, I was laying down, noting how comfy this couch was. The next thing I knew, I was more or less fast asleep, dreaming about being a million miles away, watching the waves come in and out on an unknown coastline.
Next thing I know, I'm sitting on this beach and my watch starts beeping. Still in the dream, I reach to switch it off, and in doing so, snap awake to the wonderful smell of half-charcoaled rice.
I really should try and get some sleep tonight, but working for virtually three weeks in a row has taken a pretty bad toll on me.
In fact, if and when I head to Calgary this weekend, I think Friday night will largely be spent in bed. That, and my car's muffler needs to be fixed. It's quite humorous. It's not as loud from outside the car, but inside, it sounds like I've got one of those gimmicky inverted mufflers. Kind of a pain on the highway, because it's loud enough to drown out my music, and I'm virtually deaf by the time I get to where I'm going.
In other news, Sleemans has failed me. I bought some of their Honey Brown lager on the account it was supposed to be pretty good. But honestly. Who puts honey in beer? I mean, honestly. Gross. Nasty. Putrid.
I have also been cursed by the camera gods. My pictures have sucked this week. Largely because I'm too tired to function properly. So, off to bed I go, hoping for better luck, a cure for strife, and a better lot for those I think of.
Good night.
Edit: Must've been the rum. Thanks Vigilante.
I was making rice today, and decided to sit down on a couch in the living room to wait while it cooked. The next thing I knew, I was laying down, noting how comfy this couch was. The next thing I knew, I was more or less fast asleep, dreaming about being a million miles away, watching the waves come in and out on an unknown coastline.
Next thing I know, I'm sitting on this beach and my watch starts beeping. Still in the dream, I reach to switch it off, and in doing so, snap awake to the wonderful smell of half-charcoaled rice.
I really should try and get some sleep tonight, but working for virtually three weeks in a row has taken a pretty bad toll on me.
In fact, if and when I head to Calgary this weekend, I think Friday night will largely be spent in bed. That, and my car's muffler needs to be fixed. It's quite humorous. It's not as loud from outside the car, but inside, it sounds like I've got one of those gimmicky inverted mufflers. Kind of a pain on the highway, because it's loud enough to drown out my music, and I'm virtually deaf by the time I get to where I'm going.
In other news, Sleemans has failed me. I bought some of their Honey Brown lager on the account it was supposed to be pretty good. But honestly. Who puts honey in beer? I mean, honestly. Gross. Nasty. Putrid.
I have also been cursed by the camera gods. My pictures have sucked this week. Largely because I'm too tired to function properly. So, off to bed I go, hoping for better luck, a cure for strife, and a better lot for those I think of.
Good night.
Edit: Must've been the rum. Thanks Vigilante.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Makron
So, I've been playing a bit of Quake 4 lately, since I possess neither a Wii nor a 360. (We will never mention the affront of the PS of 3, for it is sacrilege).
It's a pretty fun game. Very twisted though, there've been a few part where I've had to look away due to the sheer monstrosity of the Strogg. Once I finally beat this beast, next up is the FEAR expansion, courtesy none other than D "I'll sodomize your mom" Chubaty.
After that, I'll be investing in a new video card so that I can actually enjoy these games, rather than just suffering through the content at heinous resolutions just so people can stop telling me to play it.
And after the 3D card, I will then try in earnest to track down a Wii, since I guess Brawl is going to be out at that point (Network support, anyone? Fucking rights).
I should also get back to playing WoW every once in a while. I'm sure my rank has long since been revoked, and I will have to work my way up from peasant once again. Albeit, I do not miss being asked for healing. Not one fucking bit. Goddamn priests need to do their job, eh wot.
Anyway, back to work.
It's a pretty fun game. Very twisted though, there've been a few part where I've had to look away due to the sheer monstrosity of the Strogg. Once I finally beat this beast, next up is the FEAR expansion, courtesy none other than D "I'll sodomize your mom" Chubaty.
After that, I'll be investing in a new video card so that I can actually enjoy these games, rather than just suffering through the content at heinous resolutions just so people can stop telling me to play it.
And after the 3D card, I will then try in earnest to track down a Wii, since I guess Brawl is going to be out at that point (Network support, anyone? Fucking rights).
I should also get back to playing WoW every once in a while. I'm sure my rank has long since been revoked, and I will have to work my way up from peasant once again. Albeit, I do not miss being asked for healing. Not one fucking bit. Goddamn priests need to do their job, eh wot.
Anyway, back to work.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Faux Moves
So, it's been a weird week. I tried making the trip to Spruce Grove on Monday, but as it turns out, I was late. Really late. Well, not really, really late, but too late to catch the boys before they left.
So, making it out on Mondays after work is not a feasible option, contrary to what I had hoped. Made all the more bitter by the fact that I have to work next weekend as well as this past weekend, so I'll be seeing neither Calgary nor Spruce Grove for at least another couple of weeks.
Otherwise, I'm going to be out all night, shooting pictures for the paper.
Not much else to report, really. Might throw some food for thought up on Power-Lines, but otherwise, I think this week is going to be pretty non-blogworthy.
Over and out.
So, making it out on Mondays after work is not a feasible option, contrary to what I had hoped. Made all the more bitter by the fact that I have to work next weekend as well as this past weekend, so I'll be seeing neither Calgary nor Spruce Grove for at least another couple of weeks.
Otherwise, I'm going to be out all night, shooting pictures for the paper.
Not much else to report, really. Might throw some food for thought up on Power-Lines, but otherwise, I think this week is going to be pretty non-blogworthy.
Over and out.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
The end of a nuclear era
I woke up from a very disturbing dream this morning. My eyes still can't focus properly, and I feel like I've just barely escaped something with my life.
The dream was about an hour long, and went something like this:
After a time spent in the media, I somehow ended up drifting jobs until I ended up with a private investigation firm that dealt specifically with industrial espionage and uncovering illicit arms trades. After working with this firm for around five years, they finally handed me an assignment that was a bit heavier and a lot more worrying than foreign spies stealing plans for farm machinery.
Somebody had been lifting plans for a military satillite, and it was up to me to find out who did it, what they took, where they took it, and why they took it.
As with any dream, the continuity kind of lapses a bit before I recall the next thing.
We're looking at a schematic of a very large satillite. It looks like something right out of a science fiction movie. Instead of being small, with giant solar panels, it looks something like a shuttle with a huge drum-like apparatus attached to the roof, and two (undersized) solar panels mounted on the belly to run parallel to the line of the shuttle.
The schematic is a computer image, showing relative density and integrity of the materials used to make the thing. The drum on top seems typical space fare, aluminum, steel, reinforced thermal tiles. The shuttle section though... it wasn't typical. The density was way too high to be something that would nomally be risked in space.
A number came my way. A contact. A very important contact, regarding what it was that was stolen, and why - at this time - the US Army has become involved in my investigation. I jot down his name and number.
I wouldn't get a chance to call though. Somebody shouts "it's doing... something!"
And the next thing I know, we're all blinded by stinging white light that's pouring in from windows on one side of the building. A dull roar reverberates through the ground and I think "My God, this is what Hiroshima must have been like."
I attempted to leave the building. But knowing I'd never make it, I exited the door and huddled up against the brick wall. White light, almost fluid in appearance, poured from around the alleyways and out the door I had just exited. I could hear screams, intermingled with the roar of whatever it was being shot down on us. My guess is, their eyes melted out.
"This is it," I thought. "This is the end of the nuclear era."
The dream was an extension of a thought I sometimes have, how the next logical step in weapon superiority involves having a superweapon in space, on standby at all times. In this case, the weapon was an immence kind of light fission engine, with the waste energy accumulated from splitting photons being projected down a fine ray path onto a specific spot on the Earth.
Depending on how its utilized, such a weapon could be used to eradicate people, cities, or entire countries without fear of reprisal.
Fearsome. I still have little spots in my vision from the light in the windows.
The dream was about an hour long, and went something like this:
After a time spent in the media, I somehow ended up drifting jobs until I ended up with a private investigation firm that dealt specifically with industrial espionage and uncovering illicit arms trades. After working with this firm for around five years, they finally handed me an assignment that was a bit heavier and a lot more worrying than foreign spies stealing plans for farm machinery.
Somebody had been lifting plans for a military satillite, and it was up to me to find out who did it, what they took, where they took it, and why they took it.
As with any dream, the continuity kind of lapses a bit before I recall the next thing.
We're looking at a schematic of a very large satillite. It looks like something right out of a science fiction movie. Instead of being small, with giant solar panels, it looks something like a shuttle with a huge drum-like apparatus attached to the roof, and two (undersized) solar panels mounted on the belly to run parallel to the line of the shuttle.
The schematic is a computer image, showing relative density and integrity of the materials used to make the thing. The drum on top seems typical space fare, aluminum, steel, reinforced thermal tiles. The shuttle section though... it wasn't typical. The density was way too high to be something that would nomally be risked in space.
A number came my way. A contact. A very important contact, regarding what it was that was stolen, and why - at this time - the US Army has become involved in my investigation. I jot down his name and number.
I wouldn't get a chance to call though. Somebody shouts "it's doing... something!"
And the next thing I know, we're all blinded by stinging white light that's pouring in from windows on one side of the building. A dull roar reverberates through the ground and I think "My God, this is what Hiroshima must have been like."
I attempted to leave the building. But knowing I'd never make it, I exited the door and huddled up against the brick wall. White light, almost fluid in appearance, poured from around the alleyways and out the door I had just exited. I could hear screams, intermingled with the roar of whatever it was being shot down on us. My guess is, their eyes melted out.
"This is it," I thought. "This is the end of the nuclear era."
The dream was an extension of a thought I sometimes have, how the next logical step in weapon superiority involves having a superweapon in space, on standby at all times. In this case, the weapon was an immence kind of light fission engine, with the waste energy accumulated from splitting photons being projected down a fine ray path onto a specific spot on the Earth.
Depending on how its utilized, such a weapon could be used to eradicate people, cities, or entire countries without fear of reprisal.
Fearsome. I still have little spots in my vision from the light in the windows.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Broken machines fix people
What kind of world is this...
Where thieves steal from the poor to become wealthy.
Where the wealthy steal from thieves to become rich.
The rich steal from the well-to-do to become better off.
The better off steal from the altruistic to become masters.
The masters steal from the people to become thieves.
Just musing. There's been a few disturbing stories floated my way this week.
I'm trying to organize what's inside my head for this weekend. I've got hockey games to cover, and I'm also going to try recording again.
Hopefully. We'll see what I'm feeling like.
Where thieves steal from the poor to become wealthy.
Where the wealthy steal from thieves to become rich.
The rich steal from the well-to-do to become better off.
The better off steal from the altruistic to become masters.
The masters steal from the people to become thieves.
Just musing. There's been a few disturbing stories floated my way this week.
I'm trying to organize what's inside my head for this weekend. I've got hockey games to cover, and I'm also going to try recording again.
Hopefully. We'll see what I'm feeling like.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Snowed In
It's still coming down folks. At this rate, I won't be able to get to work tomorrow, let alone come to a movie tonight. Sorry for the inconvenience.
I think I'll try and make some fancy schmancy dinner tonight to pass the time. Fuck, it's boring out here when I've got the weekend off and I can't go anywhere.
Fucking snow.
I think I'll try and make some fancy schmancy dinner tonight to pass the time. Fuck, it's boring out here when I've got the weekend off and I can't go anywhere.
Fucking snow.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
A million miles from anywhere
I had a laundry list of things to do today, but I just wasted the whole day either sleeping or daydreaming.
It's been a very productive day for doing nothing, and I'll I've got to show for it is the ramblings of the dreams I've had, of wandering in dark forests, damp with recent rainfall. Of flying like a bird over lands untouched by human hands. And of being all over the world in a blink of an eye.
Fun stuff. I wasn't even drinking last night, and the strangest things happen.
I've also been playing a lot of guitar. Some of it's been recorded. Some of it hasn't. We'll see how much I've accumulated by the end of the weekend.
Until then, take care everybody.
It's been a very productive day for doing nothing, and I'll I've got to show for it is the ramblings of the dreams I've had, of wandering in dark forests, damp with recent rainfall. Of flying like a bird over lands untouched by human hands. And of being all over the world in a blink of an eye.
Fun stuff. I wasn't even drinking last night, and the strangest things happen.
I've also been playing a lot of guitar. Some of it's been recorded. Some of it hasn't. We'll see how much I've accumulated by the end of the weekend.
Until then, take care everybody.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Raine: 1 Snow: ZERO
So, I went for groceries tonight.
Everything was good. I wasn't in the greatest of moods, but whatever. It's my weekend off, so all things begin and end in the evening hours.
I was pulling up the driveway, when *kerchunk*. My car. My car fell through the hard pack into several inches of soft, powdery snow. Those of you who know front-wheel drive cars, know what soft powdery snow means.
Oh fuck. I hope I don't need a tow.
Well, I almost did. After cutting a trench about five feet long right down to the black dirt underneath the snow, I finally managed to get the car to lurch free.
I'm now with you to share the exultation of my victory.
Oh... I'm feeling a tad light-headed. Maybe I should sit down.
Everything was good. I wasn't in the greatest of moods, but whatever. It's my weekend off, so all things begin and end in the evening hours.
I was pulling up the driveway, when *kerchunk*. My car. My car fell through the hard pack into several inches of soft, powdery snow. Those of you who know front-wheel drive cars, know what soft powdery snow means.
Oh fuck. I hope I don't need a tow.
Well, I almost did. After cutting a trench about five feet long right down to the black dirt underneath the snow, I finally managed to get the car to lurch free.
I'm now with you to share the exultation of my victory.
Oh... I'm feeling a tad light-headed. Maybe I should sit down.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Staten Noveau
It's been a long couple of weeks. My nerves are beginning to show it too.
There's any number of reasons for this, but most of all, I think it's a matter of course.
I'm also a little frustrated by some people this week. Insisting I have to listen or talk to them whenever they're around. I'm not an object of confession. I'll be there when you need me, but if you need me every night, your need isn't so much a must, as it is an addiction or obsession. I'm not a plaything. I'm a living, breathing human being, with wants that must be met for my enjoyment.
Sitting around for three hours a night talking about nothing does not create enjoyment for me. Especially when all intelligent or amusing conversation is ended in the first half hour, and I find myself providing one word answers to rhetorical questions for the remaining two and a half. Such dialogue is tripe, and I can't imagine why it would provide comfort to anyone, least of all when the questions are loaded.
Do you hate me?
Well, obviously, since I don't, the answer is no.
Are you comforted by this fact, that you haven't earned my ire?
I don't know how people can live like this. I could get by with someone only talking once in a while. I don't get how my not saying much in an evening (but still saying something!) is considered an affront, and that I should be made to feel guilty for not meeting my evening's rambling bullshit quota.
No thanks. If I don't talk enough for your liking, that's your problem. If you want lots of talk without a lot of substance, get a fucking parakeet.
There's any number of reasons for this, but most of all, I think it's a matter of course.
I'm also a little frustrated by some people this week. Insisting I have to listen or talk to them whenever they're around. I'm not an object of confession. I'll be there when you need me, but if you need me every night, your need isn't so much a must, as it is an addiction or obsession. I'm not a plaything. I'm a living, breathing human being, with wants that must be met for my enjoyment.
Sitting around for three hours a night talking about nothing does not create enjoyment for me. Especially when all intelligent or amusing conversation is ended in the first half hour, and I find myself providing one word answers to rhetorical questions for the remaining two and a half. Such dialogue is tripe, and I can't imagine why it would provide comfort to anyone, least of all when the questions are loaded.
Do you hate me?
Well, obviously, since I don't, the answer is no.
Are you comforted by this fact, that you haven't earned my ire?
I don't know how people can live like this. I could get by with someone only talking once in a while. I don't get how my not saying much in an evening (but still saying something!) is considered an affront, and that I should be made to feel guilty for not meeting my evening's rambling bullshit quota.
No thanks. If I don't talk enough for your liking, that's your problem. If you want lots of talk without a lot of substance, get a fucking parakeet.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Test, Test?
Well, that wasn't so bad, now was it?
One cool feature I noticed was a hierarchy-layout for the blog history. I would use that (as it's stored by year, rather than month), except by default, the top-most record is always open. It takes up a lot more space than it needs too, so either I get some 1337 skillz, or just don't bother.
Otherwise, the page is starting to look like its old self again.
Okay, Google. If you can get me a pre-collapsed history hierarchy, and the ability to set the blog title and the blog head as two different things without hard-coding it, you've redeemed yourself.
And while you're at it, try sinking Microsoft.
One cool feature I noticed was a hierarchy-layout for the blog history. I would use that (as it's stored by year, rather than month), except by default, the top-most record is always open. It takes up a lot more space than it needs too, so either I get some 1337 skillz, or just don't bother.
Otherwise, the page is starting to look like its old self again.
Okay, Google. If you can get me a pre-collapsed history hierarchy, and the ability to set the blog title and the blog head as two different things without hard-coding it, you've redeemed yourself.
And while you're at it, try sinking Microsoft.
Well
Fuck you Google.
There, I said it. In the process of my "update," I decided to give their new page layout tools a whirl. It assured me that my old template would be "backed up," but being as paranoid as I am, I made a backup of the one I was using (as it was heavily modified, and I didn't want that work going to waste.)
Naturally, the "update," complete formats my page. Utterly. As in, WTF? So, I attempt to revert. Guess what? It doesn't revert to my old template. It reverts to my old old template. As in, before I added a bunch of links and background colours and the title flag and everything.
So. I open up my file and load my old template in, praising myself for thinking ahead.
But wait. XML errors. XML errors that didn't exist while the template was in use, five minutes before I updated.
I guess this is why they call it Beta.
There, I said it. In the process of my "update," I decided to give their new page layout tools a whirl. It assured me that my old template would be "backed up," but being as paranoid as I am, I made a backup of the one I was using (as it was heavily modified, and I didn't want that work going to waste.)
Naturally, the "update," complete formats my page. Utterly. As in, WTF? So, I attempt to revert. Guess what? It doesn't revert to my old template. It reverts to my old old template. As in, before I added a bunch of links and background colours and the title flag and everything.
So. I open up my file and load my old template in, praising myself for thinking ahead.
But wait. XML errors. XML errors that didn't exist while the template was in use, five minutes before I updated.
I guess this is why they call it Beta.
Some Things, MNS
I'm going to be going over the blog today and adjusting it to get rid of all the dead links/blogs I don't read anymore. I'll also probably be "upgrading" it to Google's new version, or whatever. It seems it's actually a mandatory update, as I'm no longer able to comment on blogs that aren't Googlized. I think it would've been great if, on acquisition, Google had just Googlized everyone's blog and been done with that, but in giving people a choice that's really no choice at all, I think they've kind of dropped the ball.
Anyway, so yeah. This blog will be cleaned up and turned into a Google account blog. As a note, anyone who hasn't upgraded their account will not be able to comment. I know. It sucks. But you'll have to upgrade sooner or later. I'm choosing to do so now.
Also, what's the plan for monday? I've got the weekend off coming up and nothing to do.
Anyway, so yeah. This blog will be cleaned up and turned into a Google account blog. As a note, anyone who hasn't upgraded their account will not be able to comment. I know. It sucks. But you'll have to upgrade sooner or later. I'm choosing to do so now.
Also, what's the plan for monday? I've got the weekend off coming up and nothing to do.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Endure, etc.
I've been in a bit of a funk lately. Don't know why.
It might have something to do with looking in the mirror in the morning and not recognizing the face staring back. I wouldn't call it a loss of identity. Really, I've created an identity that a lot of people really like, which is fundamentally not me.
Maybe I'll take it off, and wrap it up and give it away for Christmas. Or maybe I'll keep people guessing. Who am I? What do I want? Will you ever really know?
I'm not telling.
Largely because none of the above questions even matter.
It might have something to do with looking in the mirror in the morning and not recognizing the face staring back. I wouldn't call it a loss of identity. Really, I've created an identity that a lot of people really like, which is fundamentally not me.
Maybe I'll take it off, and wrap it up and give it away for Christmas. Or maybe I'll keep people guessing. Who am I? What do I want? Will you ever really know?
I'm not telling.
Largely because none of the above questions even matter.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Eyes of Orion
The coyotes yip and howl under the moonless stars. I can never tell if it's from loneliness or triumph.
I remember a time when the wolves used to roam here. Proud packs. Apex predators, stalking, hunting, and killing their prey without nary a worry save the threat of other wolves. And the occasional coyote.
Now the wolves are gone. Hunted to extinction for crimes that were not theirs. Such is humanity's way. When no real reason for extermination is forthcoming, one is produced. Synthesized. Adopted.
Now the coyote rules these frigid wastes. Alone. There are no packs. One could say there are hardly even families out here. Everyone is strangers, and hardly anyone looks up anymore. In their current state, humanity will find their destiny at the bottom of the holes they dig, rather than at the highest heavens they dream of.
I remember a time when the wolves used to roam here. Proud packs. Apex predators, stalking, hunting, and killing their prey without nary a worry save the threat of other wolves. And the occasional coyote.
Now the wolves are gone. Hunted to extinction for crimes that were not theirs. Such is humanity's way. When no real reason for extermination is forthcoming, one is produced. Synthesized. Adopted.
Now the coyote rules these frigid wastes. Alone. There are no packs. One could say there are hardly even families out here. Everyone is strangers, and hardly anyone looks up anymore. In their current state, humanity will find their destiny at the bottom of the holes they dig, rather than at the highest heavens they dream of.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Found in Rubbish
There are times when what I must do makes me genuinely hate being me.
This is one of them.
This is one of them.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Lost in Transmogrification
I'll always wonder how a straightforward comment that leaves my mouth ends up bent completely around in somebody else's mind.
I'm also already tired between having to choose between friend and girlfriend. They're the same. They're equal. Some might say bro's before ho's. Some might say duty to the booty. I say fuck it all. I'm trying to please everyone and they're all just taking it. I won't be criticized. I won't be lectured. I won't be tempted. I won't tolerate threats. Veiled or otherwise.
Was it a bad idea to get involved? I don't really care. Good ideas are about as rare as meteor-strikes, and I was tired of waiting around for something to happen. Was it love?
Love. Love. Is just a word. Bandied about and handwritten in love letters by tasteless dilettantes and hopeless romantics. It's thrown out like a lifeline of spider silk by the naive. It's born in its absence, and it's proven in its silence. Through action. Or inaction. Easily confused with compassion, love is, as it tends to be, a muddled mess of feelings, where you find yourself a million miles where you thought you were supposed to be, following someone else's footprints in the snow with a great yawning expanse before you, and nothing behind you except for hazy memories of a life that could have been someone else's.
Was it Love? No. It was a whole host of things. But it wasn't love. It wasn't the heady rush of exhilaration at the unknown prospect of tomorrow. Like every day before, these days will end, and their endings are not unknown. One could say formulaic, but although the destination is always the same, the means of getting there are the real mystery.
There is a girl out there who is calling me her boyfriend, and it is her wish that it last for years. For the small pleasures that we share, I hope the torture we endure of each other never makes it for that long. I also hope that she never reads this, because I know she will take the wrong meaning from it, as often others do. These relationships... they are a perfect machine. Slight differences are like grit on the turning cogs. At first they grate only slightly. But the longer one has to endure the difference of another, the greater the resentment of that one person becomes.
My patience is geological in tenure, but lessons learned in the past show me that I should not test its longevity again. When the machine breaks, it is broke. It is not safe to try again. I've never asked and only given... and that it seems... that is the only wrong thing I have ever done by any.
I'm also already tired between having to choose between friend and girlfriend. They're the same. They're equal. Some might say bro's before ho's. Some might say duty to the booty. I say fuck it all. I'm trying to please everyone and they're all just taking it. I won't be criticized. I won't be lectured. I won't be tempted. I won't tolerate threats. Veiled or otherwise.
Was it a bad idea to get involved? I don't really care. Good ideas are about as rare as meteor-strikes, and I was tired of waiting around for something to happen. Was it love?
Love. Love. Is just a word. Bandied about and handwritten in love letters by tasteless dilettantes and hopeless romantics. It's thrown out like a lifeline of spider silk by the naive. It's born in its absence, and it's proven in its silence. Through action. Or inaction. Easily confused with compassion, love is, as it tends to be, a muddled mess of feelings, where you find yourself a million miles where you thought you were supposed to be, following someone else's footprints in the snow with a great yawning expanse before you, and nothing behind you except for hazy memories of a life that could have been someone else's.
Was it Love? No. It was a whole host of things. But it wasn't love. It wasn't the heady rush of exhilaration at the unknown prospect of tomorrow. Like every day before, these days will end, and their endings are not unknown. One could say formulaic, but although the destination is always the same, the means of getting there are the real mystery.
There is a girl out there who is calling me her boyfriend, and it is her wish that it last for years. For the small pleasures that we share, I hope the torture we endure of each other never makes it for that long. I also hope that she never reads this, because I know she will take the wrong meaning from it, as often others do. These relationships... they are a perfect machine. Slight differences are like grit on the turning cogs. At first they grate only slightly. But the longer one has to endure the difference of another, the greater the resentment of that one person becomes.
My patience is geological in tenure, but lessons learned in the past show me that I should not test its longevity again. When the machine breaks, it is broke. It is not safe to try again. I've never asked and only given... and that it seems... that is the only wrong thing I have ever done by any.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Today
Was a die I verily would like to never have to live again. My stress today is work related. I'll leave it at that.
I'm just thankful nobody stopped to give me parking advice again today in the grocery store parking lot. I could have become homicidal. As it stands now, I'd like some time to myself. To think, and to relax. I'd like the rest of the world to just fuck off, and if necessary, die, for the next two hours, if it would be so kind.
I think I'm just going to listen to calming music, and write...
I'm just thankful nobody stopped to give me parking advice again today in the grocery store parking lot. I could have become homicidal. As it stands now, I'd like some time to myself. To think, and to relax. I'd like the rest of the world to just fuck off, and if necessary, die, for the next two hours, if it would be so kind.
I think I'm just going to listen to calming music, and write...
Monday, November 06, 2006
Where's my beef?
So, I just got in from hanging with the boys. The trilogy. The legacy. Whatever name we're going by nowadays. It was fun times.
You know, even though we didn't see a movie, it's good for my sanity getting out from this town once in a while. I'm realizing just how much beer we were toting around in that back seat. Man, if the cops had pulled us over, I'm sure we would've had to get belligerent because there is no way that they'd let us get away with that much in the back seat.
Not to mention the box of Lucky.
I think that car had more alcohol in it than gasoline, that's for sure. Hope you boys enjoy that bounty. Except for you D. I don't know what you drink, aside from Coke, but Ryan and Trevor said you don't like the booze so much. Oh well. I guess when the three of us are lying in hospital on dialysis, you'll be sitting there laughing at us.
In any event, I'm finishing this beer and heading to bed. See you all next time I swing out that way.
Cheers
You know, even though we didn't see a movie, it's good for my sanity getting out from this town once in a while. I'm realizing just how much beer we were toting around in that back seat. Man, if the cops had pulled us over, I'm sure we would've had to get belligerent because there is no way that they'd let us get away with that much in the back seat.
Not to mention the box of Lucky.
I think that car had more alcohol in it than gasoline, that's for sure. Hope you boys enjoy that bounty. Except for you D. I don't know what you drink, aside from Coke, but Ryan and Trevor said you don't like the booze so much. Oh well. I guess when the three of us are lying in hospital on dialysis, you'll be sitting there laughing at us.
In any event, I'm finishing this beer and heading to bed. See you all next time I swing out that way.
Cheers
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Humming Tunes
So, through some feat of midnight engineering genius (or insanity, depending on your point of view), I managed to record some short clips of me jamming last night. I'm not going to call it music yet, because that would be an insult to music everywhere. Instead, it'll just go by "pleasant" noise for now. Unfortunately, I don't have a place to host the sound clips, but I'll pass them along through MSN or e-mail to those interested.
I was just using the Windows Sound Recorder for these ones, so the clips are one minute long. Most are two stuck end on end, where I took the same chords and tried a louder approach the second time through. All in all, I think it's not bad, but I still have a ways to go before I'm playing at Trevor's level.
In other news, I'm probably going to hit the liquor store today. I've been too dry for my own good lately, and I need to get my tolerance back up.
I was just using the Windows Sound Recorder for these ones, so the clips are one minute long. Most are two stuck end on end, where I took the same chords and tried a louder approach the second time through. All in all, I think it's not bad, but I still have a ways to go before I'm playing at Trevor's level.
In other news, I'm probably going to hit the liquor store today. I've been too dry for my own good lately, and I need to get my tolerance back up.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Power Lines Transmitting
After being in an opinion slump for the past... oh, six months, I've got the spring back to write commentary on news and politics. Power Lines has been updated, and those so inclined can go give it a read.
After some experience, my skills at writing commentary seem to have improved somewhat since last posting. Hopefully it'll only get better.
In other news, I have the weekend off. Hooray.
After some experience, my skills at writing commentary seem to have improved somewhat since last posting. Hopefully it'll only get better.
In other news, I have the weekend off. Hooray.
Monday, October 30, 2006
This is a Reality Test
Just trying to see if this whole dual core shenanigan is really as cracked up as it's supposed to be.
Yep, I guess it is. This is a shot I took shortly after arriving in DV. Foggy as hell out, and it stayed like that for the whole week. This one's photoshopped quite heavily to give it more of a dreamlike quality. Otherwise, the fog on the playground just reminded me of 28 Days Later. You know. Zombies. British. You get the point.
Action Addicts
Well, so here's a section from the story I'm writing. I promised myself I'd never, ever let anyone read my works in progress again, but I don't see any harm of putting it up here. The gist of this section is one man's anxiety over the role of money in this little fictional world I've created.
Money is important in anyone's life, but in his, it's even more so because there is no one type of accepted currency that he's trying to earn. The nation he works in is currently in a low-level civil war between a Democratic faction and a Monarchist one, each with their own style and philosophies towards currency.
Anyway, here it is. Sorry for you action addicts, this section is pretty much strictly internal dialogue. Action doesn't come until quite a bit later in the plot.
-------
The phantasms and haunts of his past life never seemed far away, like shadows cast by the candle of consciousness. He lay awake, thinking over his next course of action. His last job had not paid well, but at least it had paid. However, it had forced him into a position he’d rather not be in.
He was fast running out of loyalist currency, and the nearest substantial settlement of Democratics was at least a week’s ride to the west, near the coastline of the Inland Sea.
He had no horse, nor any means of securing one, and his emergency fund had been severely hindered in only a single night. He considered the idea of traveling south and looking for work at the numerous forts and outposts that dotted the roadways, but he disliked the thought of not knowing what kind of payment form he would be receiving.
With the Revolution coming into vogue, more and more manors and castles were turning over to the Democratics and their ideas of equal say and metal currency. Meanwhile, the royal family of Ahlweria strained evermore to maintain the power that they believed, by right, belonged to them. The system of money they used was based on the same faith that gave them their power.
If there was faith in the royalty, then the royalty would function, and therefore there would also be ample faith in the currency of the royalty, when otherwise it would just be worthless parchment.
He thought over and over, and his thoughts kept stopping at money.
It troubled him deeply, especially since he had still not forgotten when he cherished less tangible things, like love, honour, and nobility. Now it seemed that all those things were simply luxuries afforded by the amplitude of money, and now that money itself was becoming worthless, life seemed impossible to live. It all seemed to be a downward spiral.
He understood the system, but he also understood that he was considered poor by mercenary standards, simply because he refused to press himself into the role of a paid hitman. Ethics were rare in mercenaries, but part of The Storm’s reputation was that every life was worth more than any money, and should one be ended in his line of duty, The Storm would accept no payment for it.
-------
Naturally, anyone I catch lifting my work or photos will be brutally vivisected with a pen-knife. Also, there's quite a bit of history behind this "The Storm" character, which I will likely relate at a later time, once I get around to rewriting the prelude to the story.
Your turn D.
Money is important in anyone's life, but in his, it's even more so because there is no one type of accepted currency that he's trying to earn. The nation he works in is currently in a low-level civil war between a Democratic faction and a Monarchist one, each with their own style and philosophies towards currency.
Anyway, here it is. Sorry for you action addicts, this section is pretty much strictly internal dialogue. Action doesn't come until quite a bit later in the plot.
-------
The phantasms and haunts of his past life never seemed far away, like shadows cast by the candle of consciousness. He lay awake, thinking over his next course of action. His last job had not paid well, but at least it had paid. However, it had forced him into a position he’d rather not be in.
He was fast running out of loyalist currency, and the nearest substantial settlement of Democratics was at least a week’s ride to the west, near the coastline of the Inland Sea.
He had no horse, nor any means of securing one, and his emergency fund had been severely hindered in only a single night. He considered the idea of traveling south and looking for work at the numerous forts and outposts that dotted the roadways, but he disliked the thought of not knowing what kind of payment form he would be receiving.
With the Revolution coming into vogue, more and more manors and castles were turning over to the Democratics and their ideas of equal say and metal currency. Meanwhile, the royal family of Ahlweria strained evermore to maintain the power that they believed, by right, belonged to them. The system of money they used was based on the same faith that gave them their power.
If there was faith in the royalty, then the royalty would function, and therefore there would also be ample faith in the currency of the royalty, when otherwise it would just be worthless parchment.
He thought over and over, and his thoughts kept stopping at money.
It troubled him deeply, especially since he had still not forgotten when he cherished less tangible things, like love, honour, and nobility. Now it seemed that all those things were simply luxuries afforded by the amplitude of money, and now that money itself was becoming worthless, life seemed impossible to live. It all seemed to be a downward spiral.
He understood the system, but he also understood that he was considered poor by mercenary standards, simply because he refused to press himself into the role of a paid hitman. Ethics were rare in mercenaries, but part of The Storm’s reputation was that every life was worth more than any money, and should one be ended in his line of duty, The Storm would accept no payment for it.
-------
Naturally, anyone I catch lifting my work or photos will be brutally vivisected with a pen-knife. Also, there's quite a bit of history behind this "The Storm" character, which I will likely relate at a later time, once I get around to rewriting the prelude to the story.
Your turn D.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Strange Week
Internet has been restored to my residence, for the time being at least. So I can once again shoot the shit and ramble on as I once did without fear of reprisal.
First on my agenda of things to mention is the Miniseries "Band of Brothers." I picked it up the other day at Wal-Mart, at the insistence of one of my friends back in Calgary. We're both pretty avid Company of Heroes players, and it only made sense to get the series that Relic claimed as inspiration for their (and in my opinion, one of the only true) WWII game.
Hot damn was it good. Brutal at times. Comical at others. But holy hell, it's a good series. Every episode is shown from the perspective of a different member of the 101st Airborne's "Easy" Company. Pretty heavy stuff, but well worth the 60 bucks I dropped on it.
Since World War II, I'm kind of disgusted that war's become a tool of politicians again. An overused trowel of militant foreign policy, where instead of bartering and co-operation, nations are telling each other what to do at knife point. I don't remember the philosopher, but he said that ruthless deeds erode the conscience, so the more they are done, the easier they become to commit.
I wonder what battered and frightened spectre the conscience of the American congress is then? And Russia's for that matter? Israel? Hamas? Do we have a bunch of heart-dead megalomaniacal tyrants running loose in the world?
Just watch the damn movie, Geoff.
First on my agenda of things to mention is the Miniseries "Band of Brothers." I picked it up the other day at Wal-Mart, at the insistence of one of my friends back in Calgary. We're both pretty avid Company of Heroes players, and it only made sense to get the series that Relic claimed as inspiration for their (and in my opinion, one of the only true) WWII game.
Hot damn was it good. Brutal at times. Comical at others. But holy hell, it's a good series. Every episode is shown from the perspective of a different member of the 101st Airborne's "Easy" Company. Pretty heavy stuff, but well worth the 60 bucks I dropped on it.
Since World War II, I'm kind of disgusted that war's become a tool of politicians again. An overused trowel of militant foreign policy, where instead of bartering and co-operation, nations are telling each other what to do at knife point. I don't remember the philosopher, but he said that ruthless deeds erode the conscience, so the more they are done, the easier they become to commit.
I wonder what battered and frightened spectre the conscience of the American congress is then? And Russia's for that matter? Israel? Hamas? Do we have a bunch of heart-dead megalomaniacal tyrants running loose in the world?
Just watch the damn movie, Geoff.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Cold Virii
I've been sick lately. Some kind of mild cold or flu. Not enough to really cramp me, but it's been a pain in my ass, and it's been a real hassle getting out of bed in the morning.
I'm still without internet, and I'm sure my new ladyfriend is going to be ramping my phone bill through the hundreds with the sheer quantity of text messages she's been sending me. Not that I can complain. It's been a nice change. For a while I was thinking of tossing my cell phone. It's rare anyone calls me on it, and now that my car has been... erm. Maintained, I really don't need to call home everytime something starts gyroscoping and making weird noises.
I've also been kind of musing lately, how naive must've felt. Thinking that by force of will alone, I could shape the future and the people in it. Silly. The future is something greater than you or I or any of us. We can influence it, but we cannot change it. Everything arrives at the same destination, if only by vastly different means. Throwing tantrums, crying about it... yeah. Being a kid was fun. But how tired am I when I can tell someone I care about that 5 years down the road, I hope they'll think about me while they're thousands of kilometres away?
Pretty tired indeed. Now, I just wish I could final-destination this goddamn infection and get a good night's sleep. I've got to work this weekend, and there's no way I'm doing it with a leaky faucet.
I'm still without internet, and I'm sure my new ladyfriend is going to be ramping my phone bill through the hundreds with the sheer quantity of text messages she's been sending me. Not that I can complain. It's been a nice change. For a while I was thinking of tossing my cell phone. It's rare anyone calls me on it, and now that my car has been... erm. Maintained, I really don't need to call home everytime something starts gyroscoping and making weird noises.
I've also been kind of musing lately, how naive must've felt. Thinking that by force of will alone, I could shape the future and the people in it. Silly. The future is something greater than you or I or any of us. We can influence it, but we cannot change it. Everything arrives at the same destination, if only by vastly different means. Throwing tantrums, crying about it... yeah. Being a kid was fun. But how tired am I when I can tell someone I care about that 5 years down the road, I hope they'll think about me while they're thousands of kilometres away?
Pretty tired indeed. Now, I just wish I could final-destination this goddamn infection and get a good night's sleep. I've got to work this weekend, and there's no way I'm doing it with a leaky faucet.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Working, Stiff
I'll be leaving the city again tommorrow morning, and in doing so, I'll be leaving behind my only reliable internet connection. I just wanted to let everyone know that, when internet is restored, I will have pictures and stories to share. But I know all you really want is the pictures, so not to disappoint, they shall be the first things I post.
In the meantime, I'm still fighting a cold, and I've discovered the only beer known to man that has defeated me.
It goes by the name of Weisbeir. And it, along with low-tolerance food, rendered my liver helpless last night.
God help you Ryan, if you should ever get your hands on that stuff. Just the smell of it still makes my stomach churn.
In the meantime, I'm still fighting a cold, and I've discovered the only beer known to man that has defeated me.
It goes by the name of Weisbeir. And it, along with low-tolerance food, rendered my liver helpless last night.
God help you Ryan, if you should ever get your hands on that stuff. Just the smell of it still makes my stomach churn.
Friday, October 20, 2006
20
I didn't think I'd live this long.
But anyway, I've been on this planet for two decades now. Tommorrow I'm planning on introducing my brain to the concepts of alcohol and gravity, although hopefully not in that order.
The office surprised me today. Cake, and all that jazz. They all shouted "Happy Birthday!" and I kind of half turned, startled and yelled "JESUS!"
It was kind of funny.
Anyway, I've got some phonecalls to make. And yes, I am still alive. The house I'm staying at in Drayton Valley has temporarily lost access to the internet, but I still read everything in my spare time at work. I just can't reply or post new content.
But anyway, I've been on this planet for two decades now. Tommorrow I'm planning on introducing my brain to the concepts of alcohol and gravity, although hopefully not in that order.
The office surprised me today. Cake, and all that jazz. They all shouted "Happy Birthday!" and I kind of half turned, startled and yelled "JESUS!"
It was kind of funny.
Anyway, I've got some phonecalls to make. And yes, I am still alive. The house I'm staying at in Drayton Valley has temporarily lost access to the internet, but I still read everything in my spare time at work. I just can't reply or post new content.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Sin, Sin
Drive, by our country.
So, I've been working for more or less the entire weekend. Minus a few hours here and there to eat and to check the office, I've been on the road, and my camera's had a rather thorough workout.
I'm rather tired, but looking forward to my next weekend off. Which also happens to be my birthday. I'm heading back to Calgary to celebrate, and perhaps also collect some debts that people owe me back there for food and pizza. Should be fun times. Should, being the operative word.
Next month, I have the first and third weekend off. The first weekend, I'm hoping to get Ryan lu- errr, I mean, drunk... for his birthday, and then the third week, I'm off to the unexplored wasteland that is Saskatchewan.
Being this forward thinking is very unlike me.
So, I've been working for more or less the entire weekend. Minus a few hours here and there to eat and to check the office, I've been on the road, and my camera's had a rather thorough workout.
I'm rather tired, but looking forward to my next weekend off. Which also happens to be my birthday. I'm heading back to Calgary to celebrate, and perhaps also collect some debts that people owe me back there for food and pizza. Should be fun times. Should, being the operative word.
Next month, I have the first and third weekend off. The first weekend, I'm hoping to get Ryan lu- errr, I mean, drunk... for his birthday, and then the third week, I'm off to the unexplored wasteland that is Saskatchewan.
Being this forward thinking is very unlike me.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Step Three: Explode Brains
So, my new computer is here, and I just got my music loaded back on it. The sound test was a... how shall I say it? A shattering success.
On top of that, I got my first real non-McDonalds meal tonight. It's been about... since Thanksgiving, hanging with the Trilogy since I last ate any substantial amount of food.
I really should take care of that. Breakfast tommorrow? Multigrain cheerios.
Mm mm.
I'm going to bed.
On top of that, I got my first real non-McDonalds meal tonight. It's been about... since Thanksgiving, hanging with the Trilogy since I last ate any substantial amount of food.
I really should take care of that. Breakfast tommorrow? Multigrain cheerios.
Mm mm.
I'm going to bed.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
It's been one of those days
I feel like a piece of shit. And I'm not saying that just for effect.
I'm tired, but it seems eight hours a night just isn't enough. I almost miss the insomniac nights, followed by a 12 hour sleep marathon where I'd just snooze the daylight hours away.
On top of that, I feel that I'm a humanely human piece of shit. Reasoning behind it? I don't know. But it feels like I can't open my mouth without somebody trying to reach down my throat and ripping out whatever is making that noise that issues from me.
Oh well. It never said in the job description that I'd be popular. At least my corn dog was cooked this time.
'Cause you know, half-cooked corndogs are the fucking worst.
I'm tired, but it seems eight hours a night just isn't enough. I almost miss the insomniac nights, followed by a 12 hour sleep marathon where I'd just snooze the daylight hours away.
On top of that, I feel that I'm a humanely human piece of shit. Reasoning behind it? I don't know. But it feels like I can't open my mouth without somebody trying to reach down my throat and ripping out whatever is making that noise that issues from me.
Oh well. It never said in the job description that I'd be popular. At least my corn dog was cooked this time.
'Cause you know, half-cooked corndogs are the fucking worst.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Who's up for Chicken Fingers?
Well, it was a fun night. I'll skip the shit and say that hanging with D, Trevor, and Ryan was the shit. While the movie was kind of ho-hum/needless dismemberment/TnA flappin' in the wind, it was still nice to get out with some people other than the newspaper staff and just chill for a while.
To answer your question Trevor, yeah, West Ed is pretty fucking spectacular. I don't know where that rant about my shit came from, but it was pretty spectacular too. Must've been almost ten inches long, goddamnit. Not every day you drop a log like that.
In any event, I'll be incommunicado in person for a while guys, but get in touch the weekend of Ryan's B-Day and I'll see if I can make a swing out there.
And Ryan, you motherfucker, lay off the motherfucking cigarettes! They smell like shit! And as a result, I smell like shit!
Shit!
To answer your question Trevor, yeah, West Ed is pretty fucking spectacular. I don't know where that rant about my shit came from, but it was pretty spectacular too. Must've been almost ten inches long, goddamnit. Not every day you drop a log like that.
In any event, I'll be incommunicado in person for a while guys, but get in touch the weekend of Ryan's B-Day and I'll see if I can make a swing out there.
And Ryan, you motherfucker, lay off the motherfucking cigarettes! They smell like shit! And as a result, I smell like shit!
Shit!
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Three Reasons I hate Kids
So, the landlord's daughter just got back today. Nobody told her I was staying here. Next thing I know, there's a house party going on, and some little shit named Josh has my guitar in hand and he's trying to impress the ladies with it.
It was all I could do not to charge across the room, rip his head off, and then shit down his impudent little throat. That guitar... That motherfucking guitar... is mine. Not a hand lays on it without my permission. Not a string moves, unless I wish it so. And I'll be struck right the fuck dead if somebody uses my fucking guitar to pick up chicks, while I'm not even in the same room.
On top of that, the little shits ate all my bread that I bought for food this week. Don't I feel good, knowing that I forked over some 50 bucks for food today, not knowing that some greasy little emo motherfucker was going to wad it down with No Fear energy drink. Once again, head ripping and throat shitting would've commenced if I'd only been there to catch the little bastard.
Next, comes the cleanup. I had my 'cube all nicely stashed. I went and checked to see if anybody had stashed any pizza in the drive, but luckily, it was only a post-it note, reading "Resident Evil rocks." Well, at least the little SOBs have good taste in games. But why the fuck did they have to put the post-it in the disk drive of my 'cube? On top of that. Why the fuck did they have to put post-it notes in my goddamn breakfast cereal?
Well, needless to say, the house is a disaster zone. Ironic, considering I'm supposed to have place spotless while I'm living here. If the little wench leaves a huge mess, I'm just going to burn it down.
Well, not really. But I'll be very angry.
Hell. I'm angry enough right now, I'm probably able to spit acid.
Oh, how I wish I could spit acid.
It was all I could do not to charge across the room, rip his head off, and then shit down his impudent little throat. That guitar... That motherfucking guitar... is mine. Not a hand lays on it without my permission. Not a string moves, unless I wish it so. And I'll be struck right the fuck dead if somebody uses my fucking guitar to pick up chicks, while I'm not even in the same room.
On top of that, the little shits ate all my bread that I bought for food this week. Don't I feel good, knowing that I forked over some 50 bucks for food today, not knowing that some greasy little emo motherfucker was going to wad it down with No Fear energy drink. Once again, head ripping and throat shitting would've commenced if I'd only been there to catch the little bastard.
Next, comes the cleanup. I had my 'cube all nicely stashed. I went and checked to see if anybody had stashed any pizza in the drive, but luckily, it was only a post-it note, reading "Resident Evil rocks." Well, at least the little SOBs have good taste in games. But why the fuck did they have to put the post-it in the disk drive of my 'cube? On top of that. Why the fuck did they have to put post-it notes in my goddamn breakfast cereal?
Well, needless to say, the house is a disaster zone. Ironic, considering I'm supposed to have place spotless while I'm living here. If the little wench leaves a huge mess, I'm just going to burn it down.
Well, not really. But I'll be very angry.
Hell. I'm angry enough right now, I'm probably able to spit acid.
Oh, how I wish I could spit acid.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Here's an Idea
So. The 'Valley's pretty nice. The folks are real cool here. Well, the one's that live here and aren't just here for two weeks to man the oilfields that is.
I have just one complaint. It would help greatly if the Town put street signs on all of the intersections, instead of just a couple of the more busy ones, so I know if I'm at the intersection of Buttcrack Avenue and Bosom street, rather than just a set of lights at a nondescript corner of the town.
As far as I can tell, I'm still good for Monday, although word is there's a bug going around. I hope I don't catch it.
I have just one complaint. It would help greatly if the Town put street signs on all of the intersections, instead of just a couple of the more busy ones, so I know if I'm at the intersection of Buttcrack Avenue and Bosom street, rather than just a set of lights at a nondescript corner of the town.
As far as I can tell, I'm still good for Monday, although word is there's a bug going around. I hope I don't catch it.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
See you on the other side.
Morning comes, then I'm outta here.
The guitar is coming with me, as is the cube. Should be good times, provided I don't, you know... die, or anything.
Otherwise, share a pint. I'm on the move.
The guitar is coming with me, as is the cube. Should be good times, provided I don't, you know... die, or anything.
Otherwise, share a pint. I'm on the move.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Break a Leg
I'm leaving on Sunday.
Or, I guess for some of you, I'm coming out on Sunday. My first day of work is to be this monday that is fast approaching, which means I have little more than 72 hours to pack my clothes and work gear and move out.
It's funny. I should be able to get everything packed in about 2-3 hours. I don't own a hell of a lot. It's all been pressed into a drawer and a little metre by metre corner in the closet. Take that and a notepad, and I should be good.
Of course, that means I won't have any connection to the wonderful world of internet until my new computer gets shipped up there, but whatever. Work beats play, and it's not like I'd be missed for a week or two.
Hell. I can't wait to get e-mails saying I should hang out with my buddies after work some day.
Sorry mates, four hours is a little long to drive just so I can pay your bar tab.
Or, I guess for some of you, I'm coming out on Sunday. My first day of work is to be this monday that is fast approaching, which means I have little more than 72 hours to pack my clothes and work gear and move out.
It's funny. I should be able to get everything packed in about 2-3 hours. I don't own a hell of a lot. It's all been pressed into a drawer and a little metre by metre corner in the closet. Take that and a notepad, and I should be good.
Of course, that means I won't have any connection to the wonderful world of internet until my new computer gets shipped up there, but whatever. Work beats play, and it's not like I'd be missed for a week or two.
Hell. I can't wait to get e-mails saying I should hang out with my buddies after work some day.
Sorry mates, four hours is a little long to drive just so I can pay your bar tab.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Good News
Two bits of good news to share with you.
The first is less important. I got hired for a job out in a town called Drayton Valley. That means I will soon be moving, and taking up a career-esque job. To answer the most common questions I've gotten about it, it's about a half-hour southwest of Stony Plain, I'm not excited (but rather relieved) and I already have most of my stuff packed/in storage.
The second, and more important bit of good news, my friend Ravuya has completed his latest creation, a game called Glow. You can pick it up here. I recommend reading the little manual he's laid out first, before diving into the game. Zombies and guns galore, it's possibly one of his finest creations.
Other than that, I have little else to say. Other than I'm likely going to purchase a new computer soon.
The first is less important. I got hired for a job out in a town called Drayton Valley. That means I will soon be moving, and taking up a career-esque job. To answer the most common questions I've gotten about it, it's about a half-hour southwest of Stony Plain, I'm not excited (but rather relieved) and I already have most of my stuff packed/in storage.
The second, and more important bit of good news, my friend Ravuya has completed his latest creation, a game called Glow. You can pick it up here. I recommend reading the little manual he's laid out first, before diving into the game. Zombies and guns galore, it's possibly one of his finest creations.
Other than that, I have little else to say. Other than I'm likely going to purchase a new computer soon.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Anxiety
There's nothing like waking up at 3 in the morning, feeling like your chest is going to implode and your eyes are going to pop.
It's been happening more frequently of late. Today, I decided to do something rather than just lie there suffering. So, as a result, my latest story has more than doubled in size. I really should be finishing the other two that I started a long time ago, but just looking at either one of them makes me feel sick, so I haven't bothered choking back and just getting it done.
Leave it to me to abandon my old labours to start all new ones that will be abandoned in the near future.
I'm also taking a page from D's book.
I'm not sharing any more of my written stuff until it's completed and I'm satisfied with it.
Part of the reason I get so disgusted with my own work is the feelings that I tie in with it. Writing's an emotional undertaking, and I can't help but leave imprints of what I'm feeling as I write fiction.
So then it's only natural that in one of my greatest stories, halfway through the theme changes from one of hope to one of bitterness and betrayal.
Such is life, I guess. It's always easier to go down the hill than up it.
It's been happening more frequently of late. Today, I decided to do something rather than just lie there suffering. So, as a result, my latest story has more than doubled in size. I really should be finishing the other two that I started a long time ago, but just looking at either one of them makes me feel sick, so I haven't bothered choking back and just getting it done.
Leave it to me to abandon my old labours to start all new ones that will be abandoned in the near future.
I'm also taking a page from D's book.
I'm not sharing any more of my written stuff until it's completed and I'm satisfied with it.
Part of the reason I get so disgusted with my own work is the feelings that I tie in with it. Writing's an emotional undertaking, and I can't help but leave imprints of what I'm feeling as I write fiction.
So then it's only natural that in one of my greatest stories, halfway through the theme changes from one of hope to one of bitterness and betrayal.
Such is life, I guess. It's always easier to go down the hill than up it.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
And yet it goes on
I've been meaning to write something here for a while. In fact, this is the third time I've opened this window tonight and started typing something out. But nothing worthwhile comes. I can write until my fingers fall off, but on reading back what I've written, it all seems pointless tripe. This brain can no longer function as it once did. I used to be able to call forward vivid images in the mind of my readers, tugging them with sights both strange and disturbing, and engaging them with thoughts and emotions that, for many, are completely alien to their regular routine. It was genius.
I can't even say I'm the same person anymore. Who am I? What have I become? Where did my creativity, my convictions, and my passion go? What about my plan? Did I ever really have one, or have I always known that it's pointless to prepare for disaster? Have I become so bitter that I can't look at people anymore and say, "I'd save them?" Although, looking back... it would perhaps be harder to be bitter if I wasn't so expendable to others. Have I become so detached from humanity that I'm actually expecting people to betray and subvert?
I think, in the future, I'll look back on these last couple years, and I will tell myself that this is when I was lost. When it started will be just as obscure as when it ended, but all I know is that I will think back, and the hairs on my neck will rise and my stomach will sink in unpleasantness. This is when my life lacked any kind of objective or direction, and when I lost most of what makes me myself. I've become a baser version of myself, pining for the basic stimulations that I used to get. People to talk to. Lessons to learn. A bright future waiting just over the horizon.
Although, come to think of it, my future has never been very bright. When the call comes for the masters of the world, I will have to step aside, because I am, and quite literally always will be, the master of nothing. It doesn't matter what I have, or what I know, or what I'm doing, there will always be one better, and it will always be their objective to supplant me. Such is my place in the world, and the order of life.
And so, where does that leave me? Who knows. Less importantly, who really cares?
Intentions. What are mine now?
Start simple...
Wake up tommorrow.
Go from there.
I can't even say I'm the same person anymore. Who am I? What have I become? Where did my creativity, my convictions, and my passion go? What about my plan? Did I ever really have one, or have I always known that it's pointless to prepare for disaster? Have I become so bitter that I can't look at people anymore and say, "I'd save them?" Although, looking back... it would perhaps be harder to be bitter if I wasn't so expendable to others. Have I become so detached from humanity that I'm actually expecting people to betray and subvert?
I think, in the future, I'll look back on these last couple years, and I will tell myself that this is when I was lost. When it started will be just as obscure as when it ended, but all I know is that I will think back, and the hairs on my neck will rise and my stomach will sink in unpleasantness. This is when my life lacked any kind of objective or direction, and when I lost most of what makes me myself. I've become a baser version of myself, pining for the basic stimulations that I used to get. People to talk to. Lessons to learn. A bright future waiting just over the horizon.
Although, come to think of it, my future has never been very bright. When the call comes for the masters of the world, I will have to step aside, because I am, and quite literally always will be, the master of nothing. It doesn't matter what I have, or what I know, or what I'm doing, there will always be one better, and it will always be their objective to supplant me. Such is my place in the world, and the order of life.
And so, where does that leave me? Who knows. Less importantly, who really cares?
Intentions. What are mine now?
Start simple...
Wake up tommorrow.
Go from there.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Some kind of Relief
I've had it.
I thought the world had grown up somewhat.
I come from a time and place that says substance is more important than cost, and the merits of the person are always taken into consideration before where it is that they are coming from.
Welcome to the new aristocracy. I'll be fucked if I let any shit like this get around to me. I don't care if you live in a motherfucking box on the street. If you've made something of yourself, you're fucking gold. A homeless man with a sense of humour beats a vapid mogul's kid any time during any day. A kid from a poor family who has the skills and the charisma to bend a country to his knee shouldn't be held back on the account that he only has five thousand in the bank.
A scruffy ruffian who's given his heart to the lady of his life shouldn't have to put up with this... archaic bullshit that should've been buried in the feudal period. Who cares if he looks like shit? Who cares if he smells like engine oil all the time? He's busting his ass off to make his way in the world, and maybe make life a little easier for someone important to him. I fail to see how it makes him any lesser of a person than some rich, motherfucking snob who carts around in a limo and eats oysters off a hooker's ass.
Jesus Conrad, some of the shit I see, I swear I just want to take out the torch and not stop until barbeques are out of fashion.
I'm feeling better already. Time for some sleep.
I thought the world had grown up somewhat.
I come from a time and place that says substance is more important than cost, and the merits of the person are always taken into consideration before where it is that they are coming from.
Welcome to the new aristocracy. I'll be fucked if I let any shit like this get around to me. I don't care if you live in a motherfucking box on the street. If you've made something of yourself, you're fucking gold. A homeless man with a sense of humour beats a vapid mogul's kid any time during any day. A kid from a poor family who has the skills and the charisma to bend a country to his knee shouldn't be held back on the account that he only has five thousand in the bank.
A scruffy ruffian who's given his heart to the lady of his life shouldn't have to put up with this... archaic bullshit that should've been buried in the feudal period. Who cares if he looks like shit? Who cares if he smells like engine oil all the time? He's busting his ass off to make his way in the world, and maybe make life a little easier for someone important to him. I fail to see how it makes him any lesser of a person than some rich, motherfucking snob who carts around in a limo and eats oysters off a hooker's ass.
Jesus Conrad, some of the shit I see, I swear I just want to take out the torch and not stop until barbeques are out of fashion.
I'm feeling better already. Time for some sleep.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Science Experiment
Hello.
I'm actually awake for now.
I've been asleep for what seems like four or five days now.
I don't know what I've missed.
I guess I made the right choice and let an opportunity go by.
But the funny thing about opportunity it that it's only opportune to a few.
Those with foresight never see things the same as those with hindsight.
But one regrets doing, and one regrets not doing.
Funny thing about regrets... it's like you can never go back and fix them. Seemings as how I'm not dead, and neither is anybody else, I seem to carry few.
Anyway, I'm probably going to try and sleep at a decent time tonight, and get up with the sun tommorrow. I'm prepared for the shock, but I'm wondering if it will be worth my while?
Probably not. So little else seems to be these days.
I'm actually awake for now.
I've been asleep for what seems like four or five days now.
I don't know what I've missed.
I guess I made the right choice and let an opportunity go by.
But the funny thing about opportunity it that it's only opportune to a few.
Those with foresight never see things the same as those with hindsight.
But one regrets doing, and one regrets not doing.
Funny thing about regrets... it's like you can never go back and fix them. Seemings as how I'm not dead, and neither is anybody else, I seem to carry few.
Anyway, I'm probably going to try and sleep at a decent time tonight, and get up with the sun tommorrow. I'm prepared for the shock, but I'm wondering if it will be worth my while?
Probably not. So little else seems to be these days.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Excuse Me
Goddamn it's cold outside.
I just hiked for an hour and a half to get home from the bus station in rain turning to snow, with the wind blowing in my face. My poor leather jacket damn near froze and my toque, socks, and pant legs might as well be well used towel for how much water they've soaked up.
Anyway, just thought I would share this little bit of misery. I'm currently thawing, waiting for the water to boil so I can make some hot chocolate. Maybe you all got a kick out of it, but I'm just going to sit here picking the icicles from my nose.
I just hiked for an hour and a half to get home from the bus station in rain turning to snow, with the wind blowing in my face. My poor leather jacket damn near froze and my toque, socks, and pant legs might as well be well used towel for how much water they've soaked up.
Anyway, just thought I would share this little bit of misery. I'm currently thawing, waiting for the water to boil so I can make some hot chocolate. Maybe you all got a kick out of it, but I'm just going to sit here picking the icicles from my nose.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
We live in this Chemical City
I picked up Sam Robert's Chemical City yesterday. An excellent CD if you're looking for some good Canadian rock. I've never been a fan of classic rock, as I find the instrumentals and topics of various older artists to be boring and unrelevant in most cases, but Roberts takes classic rock styles, and makes them work in ways that could only be musical prostitution.
I also picked up In A Coma. I got a copy of it to review about a year ago when I was still in college, and I figured I could get by just hearing the music and listening to the commentary on the music videos only once. Nope, I was wrong.
Although, in a typical travesty of music store piracy, the place I bought it at was still selling the special edition In a Coma tracks for well nigh $40. Somehow, between my two purchases, it worked out to $50. Doing all the math, that equates to maybe $5 getting to the actual artists themselves. For the remainder, I hope the record labels choke and die on their own greed.
Also of interest, the music store I was in had Mr. Beast by Mogwai for $20, but if I wanted to get any of their earlier works, I would have to import them for around $50-$60 a CD. I've discussed this numerous times with Fair, but it will forever irk me, the kind of monetary black hole that has become of the music I love. Imports, markups, fucking promotions. And then iTunes zoning. Grr.
And the industry wonders why piracy is increasing.
When the king launches all his ships...
I also picked up In A Coma. I got a copy of it to review about a year ago when I was still in college, and I figured I could get by just hearing the music and listening to the commentary on the music videos only once. Nope, I was wrong.
Although, in a typical travesty of music store piracy, the place I bought it at was still selling the special edition In a Coma tracks for well nigh $40. Somehow, between my two purchases, it worked out to $50. Doing all the math, that equates to maybe $5 getting to the actual artists themselves. For the remainder, I hope the record labels choke and die on their own greed.
Also of interest, the music store I was in had Mr. Beast by Mogwai for $20, but if I wanted to get any of their earlier works, I would have to import them for around $50-$60 a CD. I've discussed this numerous times with Fair, but it will forever irk me, the kind of monetary black hole that has become of the music I love. Imports, markups, fucking promotions. And then iTunes zoning. Grr.
And the industry wonders why piracy is increasing.
When the king launches all his ships...
Monday, September 11, 2006
Revere
Today is the anniversary of an event that changed the face of the world and brought the terrible reality home of just what kind of a wretched thing humanity had become.
Yes, today is that day.
It is my sister's birthday.
Quake in terror.
Yes, today is that day.
It is my sister's birthday.
Quake in terror.
Courage, Lads
It's Monday.
Yes, I'm about to make this monday my bitch. When I wake up that is. Sis will be at school, and my brother just bought himself a shiny new abode (give 5 months construction time, results may vary), I think it might just be breakthrough time.
Maybe.
Anyway, two new job openings around Alberta. I shall be applying with all alacrity tommorrow. Barring that, I'm probably going to hit the town and call up some friends. I'm sure some people I know from college think I'm dead now. I'll have to suspend their glee at the prospect for a while at least. There's work to be done and booze to be drunk.
Maybe.
Meanwhile, if the rest of you aren't doing anything tommorrow afternoon, I think we should round the posse up in WoW and raid us some Horde ass.
Yes, I'm about to make this monday my bitch. When I wake up that is. Sis will be at school, and my brother just bought himself a shiny new abode (give 5 months construction time, results may vary), I think it might just be breakthrough time.
Maybe.
Anyway, two new job openings around Alberta. I shall be applying with all alacrity tommorrow. Barring that, I'm probably going to hit the town and call up some friends. I'm sure some people I know from college think I'm dead now. I'll have to suspend their glee at the prospect for a while at least. There's work to be done and booze to be drunk.
Maybe.
Meanwhile, if the rest of you aren't doing anything tommorrow afternoon, I think we should round the posse up in WoW and raid us some Horde ass.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Bastion
I'd love to just sit on top of that mountain, away from everyone, and just relax.
My gut feelings have me feeling something's up lately. Something not to my liking, and lately I've felt like a cat on steroids. I'm jumpy, yes. I'm also particularly miserable, because I can't seem to get a fucking break from anything anywhere anytime.
The only thing I want right now is a job. Out of town. With a house of my own.
That is all. That is all I ask of anyone, and I never ask anything of anyone.
So, given that statement, it should come as no surprise that the one thing I ask for is the same thing I will never get.
Go figure. Even with low standards, this squirrel ain't getting any acorns.
It's like everything is all wrong. The employers all have their excuses, which are, convincingly, excuses I've heard from a variety of other people for a variety of other reasons.
- Not competitive enough
- Too trusting
- Doesn't fit "new" requirements
- Not experienced enough
- Lack of variety
- Too quiet
- Too polite
- Not enough life experience (ie. Too young/Still a kid/Still in party phase)
My guess is, not much.
Not much at all.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
The Roots
While we were driving home from Banff, I laid out across the back seat, and looked out the window upside down. The effect was strange. It's like the whole world is upside down, and the only thing to keep you from falling into the sky is the seatbelt around your waist, and should it fail, your last ditch would be one of the spindly trees - upside down they looked like roots - that lined the road.
I'm curious what it would feel like. Falling down into the sky. Would it be like falling into a pool of water? Would it be a paradox?
Another anomaly I found, if you stare at the sky long enough, it doesn't look blue. I guess that's the difference between illusion and reality. One fades under scrutiny.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
It is Wonderful
We went out to Banff this weekend, and stopped by Takakaw Falls.
I brought these back for you.
Enjoy folks. I'll put some more up tommorrow, but for now, I'm pretty sure Blogger is about to suffer and aneurism and die. Messily.
I brought these back for you.
Enjoy folks. I'll put some more up tommorrow, but for now, I'm pretty sure Blogger is about to suffer and aneurism and die. Messily.
Friday, September 01, 2006
I'm Out
I'm off for a little vacation.
After the last place turned me down, I figured it would probably be good for me to get out, so I'm heading to Frank Slide to tent it for the long weekend. I shall be back by monday. Given the recent trend in things lately, I think I shall not be missed in my brief absense, but I just thought it would be a better service to let everyone know where I'll be (or more importantly, where I won't be) this weekend.
I hope you all have a good time, and I'll see you when I get back.
After the last place turned me down, I figured it would probably be good for me to get out, so I'm heading to Frank Slide to tent it for the long weekend. I shall be back by monday. Given the recent trend in things lately, I think I shall not be missed in my brief absense, but I just thought it would be a better service to let everyone know where I'll be (or more importantly, where I won't be) this weekend.
I hope you all have a good time, and I'll see you when I get back.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Tesla
There aren't many cars that can make me drool.
This is one of them.
This is a Tesla Roadster. For those of you who are wondering why it's named after the father of Alternating Current, I'll give you a hint.
It's electric.
It goes as fast as a Mercedes and has a chassis modified from a Lotus. It's got better mileage than a hybrid, and I'm pretty sure it can recharge on any high-output outlet.
Do I want it?
Fuck yes.
Can I afford it?
Well, anyone have another $88,000 I can borrow?
Edit: I'd want that fucker in jet black too. None of that hot-rod red shit.
This is one of them.
This is a Tesla Roadster. For those of you who are wondering why it's named after the father of Alternating Current, I'll give you a hint.
It's electric.
It goes as fast as a Mercedes and has a chassis modified from a Lotus. It's got better mileage than a hybrid, and I'm pretty sure it can recharge on any high-output outlet.
Do I want it?
Fuck yes.
Can I afford it?
Well, anyone have another $88,000 I can borrow?
Edit: I'd want that fucker in jet black too. None of that hot-rod red shit.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Stuck in a Rut of Motion and Disaster
Well, it's back to the posting board for me.
Vulcan's turned me down for the position. They decided to aim it more towards an editor position, and I'm only really qualified to be a reporter, so I got passed over. This time. Maybe. They're keeping my resumé and copies of my portfolio on hand, but I'm just picturing it all there, collecting dust in some filing cabinet.
Am I really so much of a failure...?
There's two other postings I could take. One's in Dauphin Manitoba, the other is in a community paper in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories.
Huh. Ryan, I might be coming to visit sooner than either of us thought.
Vulcan's turned me down for the position. They decided to aim it more towards an editor position, and I'm only really qualified to be a reporter, so I got passed over. This time. Maybe. They're keeping my resumé and copies of my portfolio on hand, but I'm just picturing it all there, collecting dust in some filing cabinet.
Am I really so much of a failure...?
There's two other postings I could take. One's in Dauphin Manitoba, the other is in a community paper in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories.
Huh. Ryan, I might be coming to visit sooner than either of us thought.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Symbolism
Some things are better left to explain themselves. I had a dream where I saw something like this last night, and it didn't come back to me until just now. The main difference between it and this being that there was a sword, not a knife.
I could describe what all the symbols mean, but I'd rather leave it to you all to find your own meaning in the objects and arrangement I've laid before you.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Snake-eyes
I saw Snakes on a Plane a couple days ago. It was a pretty good movie. The director did an amicable job at getting around the cheesiness that could have otherwise destroyed the movie. I'm curious about the rating though. It was a pretty violent movie, and there was more than a little bare-breasted action, but even so, it only got a 14A rating.
Then again, if I think about it, what are a lot of 14 year old kids looking forward to nowadays?
Yeah, I figured. Naked people having sex isn't so much of a shock as it used to be, I guess.
On to today.
Let's pretend it never happened. Yeah.
Couldn't get much worse. Well, it could, and I wouldn't be surprised if it did, but I don't think it will. It's always the slow dagger that penetrates the shield.
I'm pretty much frustrated to the point of outrage. But really, what can I do?
I keep asking myself that question, what can I do? The answer is always the same.
Not a whole lot. It's out of my hands, and the feeling of helplessness is there because faith is on vacation and hope was sold out.
Then again, if I think about it, what are a lot of 14 year old kids looking forward to nowadays?
Yeah, I figured. Naked people having sex isn't so much of a shock as it used to be, I guess.
On to today.
Let's pretend it never happened. Yeah.
Couldn't get much worse. Well, it could, and I wouldn't be surprised if it did, but I don't think it will. It's always the slow dagger that penetrates the shield.
I'm pretty much frustrated to the point of outrage. But really, what can I do?
I keep asking myself that question, what can I do? The answer is always the same.
Not a whole lot. It's out of my hands, and the feeling of helplessness is there because faith is on vacation and hope was sold out.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Like Lightning
Sometimes you swear you've got it. But in this case, it's just another set of fireworks.
They say that truly talented photographers have steady hands and keen eyes. Obviously I only have one of the two.
And the last one, before I make you all sick of the same boring trick over and over again. I somehow caught a reflection on this one, and I couldn't tell whether it was my lens, or just the fact that the grass was wet. In either event, it looked good, so here it is.
With no further regards, I hope you all enjoyed the pictures. I'm fairly tired after three nights without sleep, and my bed is looking very appealing right now.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Wild Times at the Westward Point
I'll just let some of these speak for themselves.
For this last picture, I got a little too close. It was a 1 in 10 firework misfire, and it came and landed right in front of me and my camera tri-pod, detonating in a shower of stinging sparklers. My trademark spasm must've come at just the right time, because I got a picture of it.
Close call? Yes. A firework might be trivial to some of you testosterone jockeys, but let me tell you. There's nothing manly about being a blind man.
For this last picture, I got a little too close. It was a 1 in 10 firework misfire, and it came and landed right in front of me and my camera tri-pod, detonating in a shower of stinging sparklers. My trademark spasm must've come at just the right time, because I got a picture of it.
Close call? Yes. A firework might be trivial to some of you testosterone jockeys, but let me tell you. There's nothing manly about being a blind man.
Friday, August 18, 2006
What happens when good things come?
Bad things follow.
Like a headcold. Congested sinuses, and the unpleasantness of the family.
I go places. Destruction and hard times follow.
Ugh. My head feels like a water balloon. I'm cranky. I'm tired. I've been driving all day, and I just know when I go to sleep, I'll be driving in my sleep too.
No kidney shots, thanks. I got enough of those as a kid.
I can already tell. This weekend is going to be miserable. Don't bother waiting up.
Not that anyone does anyway.
Like a headcold. Congested sinuses, and the unpleasantness of the family.
I go places. Destruction and hard times follow.
Ugh. My head feels like a water balloon. I'm cranky. I'm tired. I've been driving all day, and I just know when I go to sleep, I'll be driving in my sleep too.
No kidney shots, thanks. I got enough of those as a kid.
I can already tell. This weekend is going to be miserable. Don't bother waiting up.
Not that anyone does anyway.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Strange Happenings
So.
I won't be home tommorrow. I got a call from the fine folks over in Vulcan for a job interview. So I spent this evening dusting off my portfolio, and checking to make sure my printed resumés were up to date. Not that anything has changed in the last three months, but you know. It never hurts to check.
My instincts are telling me that it probably won't result in me getting the job, but it's a good start, as the position I was pining for in Olds is coming available soon too. Maybe it's a collective shift. Everyone's moving. Why shouldn't I join the trend?
In other news, I've been pretty bored the last few days. I don't know why. I've even bothered to get out of the house on a couple occassions (false alarms, I think), but I just feel I should be doing something that I'm not, and I can't quite put a finger on what it is. Oh well. Can't possible be worse than a fax on national security, sitting unanswered on some godforsaken corner of my desk.
I promised myself I'd go for a drive. Tommorrow is my chance. I'm going to take the camera, and I'm also going to pick up some beef jerky. Yep, right from the source. Longview Alberta.
Tack on an extra hour and a half of drive time. Oh yes... I'm gonna have to upload some more tunes to my player before I leave. Hopefully there'll be something worth seeing while I'm on the road.
I won't be home tommorrow. I got a call from the fine folks over in Vulcan for a job interview. So I spent this evening dusting off my portfolio, and checking to make sure my printed resumés were up to date. Not that anything has changed in the last three months, but you know. It never hurts to check.
My instincts are telling me that it probably won't result in me getting the job, but it's a good start, as the position I was pining for in Olds is coming available soon too. Maybe it's a collective shift. Everyone's moving. Why shouldn't I join the trend?
In other news, I've been pretty bored the last few days. I don't know why. I've even bothered to get out of the house on a couple occassions (false alarms, I think), but I just feel I should be doing something that I'm not, and I can't quite put a finger on what it is. Oh well. Can't possible be worse than a fax on national security, sitting unanswered on some godforsaken corner of my desk.
I promised myself I'd go for a drive. Tommorrow is my chance. I'm going to take the camera, and I'm also going to pick up some beef jerky. Yep, right from the source. Longview Alberta.
Tack on an extra hour and a half of drive time. Oh yes... I'm gonna have to upload some more tunes to my player before I leave. Hopefully there'll be something worth seeing while I'm on the road.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Alert Status Reddicus
My buddy Mike showed me this. I don't know who precisely it belongs to, but whoever made it has a sharp sense of humour.
Just look at it while listening to Alert Status Red. I can't stop laughing. I can't. It's too funny.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Thanks for the Hammer
Just wanted to thank D for the hammer and the new armor.
They're awesome.
That is all.
300 down.
5 million left to go.
They're awesome.
That is all.
300 down.
5 million left to go.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
A Memory
It had just finished raining.
The planks under my feet were cold and wet, slightly slippery, although bare feet didn't slip as readily as the rediculous duck-boots that the girls insisted on wearing to protect their gaudy Whinney-the-Pooh socks from the moisture. Given that we were at least an hour from any dry land, moisture was kind of a given. If it wasn't the rain that came like clockwork, it was the ocean that leapt up to greet us whenever the wind started to blow. It was something you didn't dare go to greet back, because the ocean was greedy, and if you got too close, it would take you for tea, permanently. Especially at this hour.
I was supposed to be keeping watch, making sure no boats inadvertantly hit us, and also to make sure the ship didn't come free from her anchor. Neither seemed likely in this humanity-forsaken cove near the northern tip of Vancouver Island. The only thing that seemed to hit the boat was rain, and when it wasn't raining, it was clear enough to see the entire milky way.
Amidst the sounds of lapping waves and the low rumble of thunder, it was something to watch the stars move overhead, wondering if someone around one of those stars was looking up, wondering if I was out here, and if I actually existed.
It was a weird feeling, to be sure. Maybe it was the fact that the boat never stopped moving, and, like the stars, I was in perpetual motion. Maybe it was the constant sound, like some kind of dream that I never wanted to wake up from. Standing overtop the primordial crib of all life of the planet, and then looking up at the destiny of it's apex species, I felt for a moment...
Yes, I do exist. I hope we meet someday, and I can tell you all about this planet. The people on it. The creatures that exist on it. The history. The goods, the evils, and everything inbetween.
And then, just like that. My watch was over. I went back into the holds, crawled into my bunk, and then slept the rest of the night away without so much as a thought about who, or what, might be out there amongst the stars.
I'm sure they probably did the same.
The planks under my feet were cold and wet, slightly slippery, although bare feet didn't slip as readily as the rediculous duck-boots that the girls insisted on wearing to protect their gaudy Whinney-the-Pooh socks from the moisture. Given that we were at least an hour from any dry land, moisture was kind of a given. If it wasn't the rain that came like clockwork, it was the ocean that leapt up to greet us whenever the wind started to blow. It was something you didn't dare go to greet back, because the ocean was greedy, and if you got too close, it would take you for tea, permanently. Especially at this hour.
I was supposed to be keeping watch, making sure no boats inadvertantly hit us, and also to make sure the ship didn't come free from her anchor. Neither seemed likely in this humanity-forsaken cove near the northern tip of Vancouver Island. The only thing that seemed to hit the boat was rain, and when it wasn't raining, it was clear enough to see the entire milky way.
Amidst the sounds of lapping waves and the low rumble of thunder, it was something to watch the stars move overhead, wondering if someone around one of those stars was looking up, wondering if I was out here, and if I actually existed.
It was a weird feeling, to be sure. Maybe it was the fact that the boat never stopped moving, and, like the stars, I was in perpetual motion. Maybe it was the constant sound, like some kind of dream that I never wanted to wake up from. Standing overtop the primordial crib of all life of the planet, and then looking up at the destiny of it's apex species, I felt for a moment...
Yes, I do exist. I hope we meet someday, and I can tell you all about this planet. The people on it. The creatures that exist on it. The history. The goods, the evils, and everything inbetween.
And then, just like that. My watch was over. I went back into the holds, crawled into my bunk, and then slept the rest of the night away without so much as a thought about who, or what, might be out there amongst the stars.
I'm sure they probably did the same.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Cold
We got hit by more rain today. Cold rain, miserable stuff that usually falls during the autumn. It was about 8 degrees outside as I was driving home. It was refreshing and terrible at the same time. I'm sitting here, and everytime I reach for a "p" or a "q," my fingers give a twisted little crack, because the poor joints are just frozen.
This Friday, the family is leaving for the family reunion. I'm probably not going to go until Saturday, because I want to wait and see if any of my late applications call back. I doubt they will, but it's worth waiting around for anyway. I'd really like to be able to tell my extended family that I'm going somewhere, and that I'm accomplishing something. But alas, the only thing I'm doing right now is sinking into a steady apathetic depression. Whatever.
I'm not even sure I want to see my extended family. I don't know how many of them will recognize me from last year. Times have changed, and I certainly have too, and despite the gossip ring that my mom keeps up throughout the year, most of my aunts and uncles still haven't the faintest clue who I am, or to whom "I belong to." Fine by me. Just stop calling me Chris. Please.
Old story. Anyway, September is fast approaching. I don't know what I'm going to do when it gets here. It will be the first time in my entire life where the fall is coming and I haven't enrolled in anything. I don't have the funds for university, and I don't particularly want to work any of the grind jobs I've already spent all too much time working at.
Mm. Reading back on this, I'm realizing a bit what I've been meaning to say.
I haven't got shit.
Goodnight, and regards to the pretty girls.
They will likely find these words hollow and meaningless.
This Friday, the family is leaving for the family reunion. I'm probably not going to go until Saturday, because I want to wait and see if any of my late applications call back. I doubt they will, but it's worth waiting around for anyway. I'd really like to be able to tell my extended family that I'm going somewhere, and that I'm accomplishing something. But alas, the only thing I'm doing right now is sinking into a steady apathetic depression. Whatever.
I'm not even sure I want to see my extended family. I don't know how many of them will recognize me from last year. Times have changed, and I certainly have too, and despite the gossip ring that my mom keeps up throughout the year, most of my aunts and uncles still haven't the faintest clue who I am, or to whom "I belong to." Fine by me. Just stop calling me Chris. Please.
Old story. Anyway, September is fast approaching. I don't know what I'm going to do when it gets here. It will be the first time in my entire life where the fall is coming and I haven't enrolled in anything. I don't have the funds for university, and I don't particularly want to work any of the grind jobs I've already spent all too much time working at.
Mm. Reading back on this, I'm realizing a bit what I've been meaning to say.
I haven't got shit.
Goodnight, and regards to the pretty girls.
They will likely find these words hollow and meaningless.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Mjollnir
We had a pretty big thunderstorm today. It's been so hot and dry lately, I thought the reprieve would never come. It just goes to show that summer can't just be all hot and dry. Too much energy is released, and thunderstorms are proof against the heat death of the universe.
Or at least, the heat death of one photophobic anti-socialite. Screw you, weatherman. We don't need anymore days of 40 degrees and hot, dry heat.
Let it rain! Let it fucking pour until all the dust and smoke is gone, and I can see from here to the mountains again!
Or at least, the heat death of one photophobic anti-socialite. Screw you, weatherman. We don't need anymore days of 40 degrees and hot, dry heat.
Let it rain! Let it fucking pour until all the dust and smoke is gone, and I can see from here to the mountains again!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
My name is...
Chain letters. Careful Fair, these things are lead shoes over lakes of thin ice.
Anyway:
Once you've been tagged, you have to write a comment with six very random facts about yourself. In the end you need to choose six more people to be tagged and list their names.
1. I write right handed, but play almost all sports with my left.
2. I am mathematically disinclined.
3. I prefer apricots over peaches.
4. I dislike being the centre of attention.
5. I've sailed on the sea, flown in the air, and driven on land.
6. I've written over a half-million pages of fiction in my life, but never finished a book.
Six more people? Well, whoever else wants to burn some time, go ahead. I'm not going to speak for anyone.
Oh. And for a side note, blogger is superior to the faux pas that is the blogs in Myspace. Just a thought after today's technological wrestling I had to endure.
Anyway:
Once you've been tagged, you have to write a comment with six very random facts about yourself. In the end you need to choose six more people to be tagged and list their names.
1. I write right handed, but play almost all sports with my left.
2. I am mathematically disinclined.
3. I prefer apricots over peaches.
4. I dislike being the centre of attention.
5. I've sailed on the sea, flown in the air, and driven on land.
6. I've written over a half-million pages of fiction in my life, but never finished a book.
Six more people? Well, whoever else wants to burn some time, go ahead. I'm not going to speak for anyone.
Oh. And for a side note, blogger is superior to the faux pas that is the blogs in Myspace. Just a thought after today's technological wrestling I had to endure.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Oh my Head
There's a change in the weather coming. I can feel it. I can feel it in all four of my cavernous sinuses. Either that or I've got the mother of all infections brewing. If I do, I hope its something lethal. I hate these fucking headaches that make my face feel like a tumor.
In any other news worth your two minutes of attention, I don't think they're calling back. In fact, my precognitive intuition tells me they won't. This is not me being pessimistic. This is me stating my gut feeling. My reason for thinking so? It's summer. That's rush time for all the college and university grads. We're all squabbling for career jobs, and in the media fields, there just aren't enough to go around. That, and all my supposed experience really doesn't amount to much. I know what I can do, but sadly, experience is measured in years, not clippings.
Meanwhile, I'm heading for the ultimate in stagnation. Somebody come and punch me if I become that lazy slob that just sits in the basement playing WoW all day. Please. There's a person and a place for that, but I am and have neither, so I must not start down that path.
I still haven't L&M's yet. Sorry Trevor. I've worked out some basic piano parts, but I can't really do much with it at this point, especially now that my parents have gotten back home, and they're using my piano as a catch-all while they're reorganizing the house. That, and I can't play guitar because every room has a fucking TV on at all times.
Fuck. It's any wonder how I can live in this house, and still hardly ever catch what's on the tube.
Send my regards to the world. I'm sure the answer will be lukewarm.
In any other news worth your two minutes of attention, I don't think they're calling back. In fact, my precognitive intuition tells me they won't. This is not me being pessimistic. This is me stating my gut feeling. My reason for thinking so? It's summer. That's rush time for all the college and university grads. We're all squabbling for career jobs, and in the media fields, there just aren't enough to go around. That, and all my supposed experience really doesn't amount to much. I know what I can do, but sadly, experience is measured in years, not clippings.
Meanwhile, I'm heading for the ultimate in stagnation. Somebody come and punch me if I become that lazy slob that just sits in the basement playing WoW all day. Please. There's a person and a place for that, but I am and have neither, so I must not start down that path.
I still haven't L&M's yet. Sorry Trevor. I've worked out some basic piano parts, but I can't really do much with it at this point, especially now that my parents have gotten back home, and they're using my piano as a catch-all while they're reorganizing the house. That, and I can't play guitar because every room has a fucking TV on at all times.
Fuck. It's any wonder how I can live in this house, and still hardly ever catch what's on the tube.
Send my regards to the world. I'm sure the answer will be lukewarm.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Bad Timing
I guess it could only have been an omen that I found my old Matt Good collection. Those of you that are fans of the man and not the music might want to swing by his site and read up on what's been shaking in Good Towne lately.
Or rather, what's not been shaking.
I don't want to gossip about it here, but I feel the need to say I could care less if he has to cancel all his shows forever if that's what it takes.
I know, I haven't picked up a pen and written anything in earnest in a long time. It takes a while to get everything back.
What the fuck is it about summer?
Or rather, what's not been shaking.
I don't want to gossip about it here, but I feel the need to say I could care less if he has to cancel all his shows forever if that's what it takes.
I know, I haven't picked up a pen and written anything in earnest in a long time. It takes a while to get everything back.
What the fuck is it about summer?
Friday, August 04, 2006
Suffocating Exhaustion
I might actually sleep tonight, rather than waiting until dawn.
I'm exhausted. The drive actually came today, four minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off and wake me. Four minutes that seems to have thrown my entire day off, because I've felt like a slug in salt water all day.
I'm half-asleep as a write this, and since I'm on the Oldest Computer Known to Man, I finally dug out my old classic Matthew Good Band tracks, and I found one that I haven't heard in ages...
It goes by the title "She's Got a New Disguise."
Makes me wonder why nobody makes music like this anymore... I like Matt's new stuff, but seriously, there hasn't been anything that comes anywhere close to his former band's stuff.
Oh well, so the Hand delivereth, so too does It taketh away. I just wish I had copied that picture Matt had on his website, showing a chart cataloguing the descent of real music, while showing the ascension of flash-in-the-pan rock acts.
It's true you know, it's true. Just start up a Myspace.hell account and put musician anywhere on your site. Within weeks you WILL be bombarded by up-and-coming rock acts who are so desperate for attention (and therefore tickets) that they will send you friendly messages, band schedules, and even the odd free ticket. A ticket to what, you might ask? Their express row seating to watch them take the fast track to musical suicide.
And then the next thing you know, the entire band turns into zombies, and everyone's yelling "Get to the choppa!"
Best line ever.
I'm exhausted. The drive actually came today, four minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off and wake me. Four minutes that seems to have thrown my entire day off, because I've felt like a slug in salt water all day.
I'm half-asleep as a write this, and since I'm on the Oldest Computer Known to Man, I finally dug out my old classic Matthew Good Band tracks, and I found one that I haven't heard in ages...
It goes by the title "She's Got a New Disguise."
Makes me wonder why nobody makes music like this anymore... I like Matt's new stuff, but seriously, there hasn't been anything that comes anywhere close to his former band's stuff.
Oh well, so the Hand delivereth, so too does It taketh away. I just wish I had copied that picture Matt had on his website, showing a chart cataloguing the descent of real music, while showing the ascension of flash-in-the-pan rock acts.
It's true you know, it's true. Just start up a Myspace.hell account and put musician anywhere on your site. Within weeks you WILL be bombarded by up-and-coming rock acts who are so desperate for attention (and therefore tickets) that they will send you friendly messages, band schedules, and even the odd free ticket. A ticket to what, you might ask? Their express row seating to watch them take the fast track to musical suicide.
And then the next thing you know, the entire band turns into zombies, and everyone's yelling "Get to the choppa!"
Best line ever.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Medina
I'm looking at a crater as I write this.
A crater that once used to be a computer hard-drive.
Needless to say, I shall not be online or in-game until Thursday, maybe Friday. Maybe even later than that.
Not that it overly affects anyone. In the mean-time, I'm beating the snot out of some PS2 games and some Gamecube games I've neglected. Maybe I'll write a review, if I can get on this hunk of junk again.
Otherwise. Yeah. See everyone in a few days.
A crater that once used to be a computer hard-drive.
Needless to say, I shall not be online or in-game until Thursday, maybe Friday. Maybe even later than that.
Not that it overly affects anyone. In the mean-time, I'm beating the snot out of some PS2 games and some Gamecube games I've neglected. Maybe I'll write a review, if I can get on this hunk of junk again.
Otherwise. Yeah. See everyone in a few days.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Wow
I just told myself that the odds of me getting a job at a paper were pretty minimal.
And then a posting came up in Olds. Flashback, I was there for my practicum when I was still in college. Albeit at a different paper, but now the two papers have been merged, and I'd be working with a couple of people from the old paper.
I'm intrigued. More so that this would come up just as I'm ready to give up on print media. If I get the job, and that's still a rather substantial IF I get this job, I'll probably be living on my own. I already know, from my last venture up there, the extended family didn't appreciate my lack of communication with them, but what can I say? I like my privacy. I would, however, have to apply myself to the community. Which could possibly work in my favour. Maybe.
Meanwhile, I'm going nuts because this room is filled with tiny little moths that keep brushing up on my arms and legs. I see a spider got one. Ruddy little bastard is getting what he deserved.
And then a posting came up in Olds. Flashback, I was there for my practicum when I was still in college. Albeit at a different paper, but now the two papers have been merged, and I'd be working with a couple of people from the old paper.
I'm intrigued. More so that this would come up just as I'm ready to give up on print media. If I get the job, and that's still a rather substantial IF I get this job, I'll probably be living on my own. I already know, from my last venture up there, the extended family didn't appreciate my lack of communication with them, but what can I say? I like my privacy. I would, however, have to apply myself to the community. Which could possibly work in my favour. Maybe.
Meanwhile, I'm going nuts because this room is filled with tiny little moths that keep brushing up on my arms and legs. I see a spider got one. Ruddy little bastard is getting what he deserved.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Walkabout
Someone once said that, when coming to a fork in the road, we should always take the path less travelled. Failing to note, of course, that both paths were laid out for a reason, and that treading one or the other will still result in you becoming a pawn in someone else's scheme. Two trails are apparent, but like occams razor states, the space inbetween can be divided up into an infinite number of paths, without ever rendering nothing.
Dark skies and luminous green fields. There is no place in reality for this.
To spite the lightning that smote it, the tree grew crooked and menacing, a parodic visage of that which destroyed it.
And after it all, I found myself in a nonsensical land, where the weeds grew as tall as trees, and the ducks talked, and the riverbank eroded the river.
And then, when I thought I was done, the sun came out, and man was it hot. Very uncomfortable. I should've worn shorts.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
I've Lost It
I seem to have lost it. Days wasted sleeping, and nights wasted awake. Always wondering, just what will come next, what will be the next big mistake that I make, the next big crash I'll fall into. I've got a constant feeling of someone watching over my shoulder, like someone is always watching what I do, but doesn't want to say anything. I know there's nobody there, but after years of always having someone there, it only could be that there would be somebody there when there isn't.
There's always somebody there when I make a mistake. There's always someone to critisize, or dramatize, or fuckerize, whatever. I've never had the privelage of fucking up and nobody knowing about it. It's always been a public affair, with everyone on the block gossiping over the phone. No trust. No trust.
Talking to people doesn't seem to help. I might as well be talking to a wall or a heap of dust. Change the conversation wall, change it before you figure it out. Dust is as dust does, or does not. I feel like dust. I just lie around all day, pondering where I'll be blown to next before somebody decides I'm a mess that needs to be cleaned up. And then they'll be forced to decide which clichéd tool from their arsenal they'll have to use. The guilty brush, perhaps? The motivational vacuum? The cleansing spray of spittle as I'm lectured to by a dipshit again?
Alone. I've always known what it meant. I was raised to spite it, and yet at the same time, I was never allowed to be anything more than. I do everything myself. I don't ask for help. Help means debt, and when everyone's calling in, it's something I can't afford to have. Fuck what you all say. How do you know you're telling the truth when you aren't even sure yourself? How can you have so much faith in what people say when they don't mean a word of it? How can you build castles of trust on untested soil, and rely on courage that is, at best, a farce?
Like a dream. I dream of flying, and of beautiful places away from the cities, away from the people. Where friends remember my name, and what I look like. Where I remember what I look like, and I don't frighten myself by looking in the mirror and see a new stranger every day. Where there is beauty in everything, and the only fiction is yet more beauty, printed out on sheets and bound into books of fancy and legend. I dream of flying, and yet... I also dream of falling.
Falling in love. Falling asleep. Falling from high places. It's all the same feeling now. I can't remember what it was like. I can't comprehend the feeling anymore, it's so alien. I feel as though I am half the person I was, and twice the fool. I should have moved on, but I became so hung up on the thought: "Moving on to what? What more could there possibly be?"
More dust and lies. More trouble to sift through to find the dreams I used to chase. More dawns to end the dusks, and more days to end the nights.
Maybe.
There's always somebody there when I make a mistake. There's always someone to critisize, or dramatize, or fuckerize, whatever. I've never had the privelage of fucking up and nobody knowing about it. It's always been a public affair, with everyone on the block gossiping over the phone. No trust. No trust.
Talking to people doesn't seem to help. I might as well be talking to a wall or a heap of dust. Change the conversation wall, change it before you figure it out. Dust is as dust does, or does not. I feel like dust. I just lie around all day, pondering where I'll be blown to next before somebody decides I'm a mess that needs to be cleaned up. And then they'll be forced to decide which clichéd tool from their arsenal they'll have to use. The guilty brush, perhaps? The motivational vacuum? The cleansing spray of spittle as I'm lectured to by a dipshit again?
Alone. I've always known what it meant. I was raised to spite it, and yet at the same time, I was never allowed to be anything more than. I do everything myself. I don't ask for help. Help means debt, and when everyone's calling in, it's something I can't afford to have. Fuck what you all say. How do you know you're telling the truth when you aren't even sure yourself? How can you have so much faith in what people say when they don't mean a word of it? How can you build castles of trust on untested soil, and rely on courage that is, at best, a farce?
Like a dream. I dream of flying, and of beautiful places away from the cities, away from the people. Where friends remember my name, and what I look like. Where I remember what I look like, and I don't frighten myself by looking in the mirror and see a new stranger every day. Where there is beauty in everything, and the only fiction is yet more beauty, printed out on sheets and bound into books of fancy and legend. I dream of flying, and yet... I also dream of falling.
Falling in love. Falling asleep. Falling from high places. It's all the same feeling now. I can't remember what it was like. I can't comprehend the feeling anymore, it's so alien. I feel as though I am half the person I was, and twice the fool. I should have moved on, but I became so hung up on the thought: "Moving on to what? What more could there possibly be?"
More dust and lies. More trouble to sift through to find the dreams I used to chase. More dawns to end the dusks, and more days to end the nights.
Maybe.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
We Say Nothing
So.
I'd actually have a nice big picture to post here. I've come into possession of Photoshop CS2, and I've been toying with it a bit lately.
But seemings as how blogger's photo system seems to derive pleasure from bucking my connection right now, I guess you'll just have to put up with some more text until later this afternoon when I rise from my slumber to try again.
Regards,
I have so much to say, and yet so few will listen.
Edit:
BOOYAH.
I'd actually have a nice big picture to post here. I've come into possession of Photoshop CS2, and I've been toying with it a bit lately.
But seemings as how blogger's photo system seems to derive pleasure from bucking my connection right now, I guess you'll just have to put up with some more text until later this afternoon when I rise from my slumber to try again.
Regards,
I have so much to say, and yet so few will listen.
Edit:
BOOYAH.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Dust Off
My brain seems to be back to normal now. Whatever freak illness I contracted seems to have left with all the fury and zeal that it came with, leaving me weary but otherwise alright. However, in my newgound lucidity, a new thought strikes me...
I don't want to spend my whole summer job hunting. If July ends before anyone says anything, I'm ready to say fuck it, I'm outta here.
Question is, where will I go? North? South? East? I don't want to take a plane, and I'm tempted to drive (the weather these days is ideal for driving), and I want to do some kind of camping and/or fishing. Neither one I'm particularly adept at. I've never caught a fish, although I've tried plenty of times, and inspired by the tales of Dan, Trevor, and Ryan, I want to try again. Maybe the four of us can make a fishing trip sometime before 'ole bandersnatch departs for the greater white north. I just have to find out where my fishing rod is at, and then I can pack up and goooo.
Just a thought.
Oh, and just for my safety, you guys aren't religious fly fishers, are ya? The last few I bumped into threatened to kill me at the sight of my lure rod. Said it was a travesty... but to me, catching a fish is catching a fish. Whether it be with hand-wound flies, or with sticks of dynamite.
I don't want to spend my whole summer job hunting. If July ends before anyone says anything, I'm ready to say fuck it, I'm outta here.
Question is, where will I go? North? South? East? I don't want to take a plane, and I'm tempted to drive (the weather these days is ideal for driving), and I want to do some kind of camping and/or fishing. Neither one I'm particularly adept at. I've never caught a fish, although I've tried plenty of times, and inspired by the tales of Dan, Trevor, and Ryan, I want to try again. Maybe the four of us can make a fishing trip sometime before 'ole bandersnatch departs for the greater white north. I just have to find out where my fishing rod is at, and then I can pack up and goooo.
Just a thought.
Oh, and just for my safety, you guys aren't religious fly fishers, are ya? The last few I bumped into threatened to kill me at the sight of my lure rod. Said it was a travesty... but to me, catching a fish is catching a fish. Whether it be with hand-wound flies, or with sticks of dynamite.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Misery, my only faithful companion
I'm sick like a dog.
High fever.
Hallucinations.
Nausea.
Hallucinations.
Hot and cold flashes.
Hallucinations.
Yes. I'm not even sure if I'm writing this right now. If I come back tommorrow, and this is still here, I'll know that indeed, the last two days did happen, and indeed, I've done something outside the house.
I think I should be proud, but right now I'm just tired, and I can't tell if I'm asleep yet or not. The dizziness and the things that are there, but not there... they don't go away when I try to sleep. They just get worse. It's like being on a rollercoaster, you close your eyes so you can't see the plunge, but that just makes you feel it all the worse.
High fever.
Hallucinations.
Nausea.
Hallucinations.
Hot and cold flashes.
Hallucinations.
Yes. I'm not even sure if I'm writing this right now. If I come back tommorrow, and this is still here, I'll know that indeed, the last two days did happen, and indeed, I've done something outside the house.
I think I should be proud, but right now I'm just tired, and I can't tell if I'm asleep yet or not. The dizziness and the things that are there, but not there... they don't go away when I try to sleep. They just get worse. It's like being on a rollercoaster, you close your eyes so you can't see the plunge, but that just makes you feel it all the worse.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Today's Headline
Implant helps disabled man use his brain to do tasks
Rest of planet's able population still hopeless.
Rest of planet's able population still hopeless.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Nerding Out
So, this is the first Wednesday I've stayed home in ages. Normally, I drive to the north end of the city to hang out with some friends of mine that I don't otherwise get to see. You might wonder what inspired the change. Well, see, it's a little something called a videogame addiction. I got tired of spending ten bucks in gas to drive to the north, to pay forty bucks for dinner (because most of my friends are poor, don't ask why), and then to spend the night... watching these guys blow their time playing World of Warcraft all night.
Meanwhile, I raid the fuckers' supply of Gamecube games worth reviewing. Okay, not really, but you'd think that if they want me to come and visit them, they'd at least make an effort to acknowledge me as something other than a meal ticket. Oh wait. I forgot. This is the city.
You can expect your friends to see you as nothing more than a free fucking meal ticket.
So I stayed home today. And thus, it has been a productive day. Indeed, I've been pondering about WoW, and how it's allowing people to create parallel lives at the expense of their real ones.
And then I realize that line of thinking is just bosh. You can't expend a real life you don't have in the first place.
Meanwhile, I raid the fuckers' supply of Gamecube games worth reviewing. Okay, not really, but you'd think that if they want me to come and visit them, they'd at least make an effort to acknowledge me as something other than a meal ticket. Oh wait. I forgot. This is the city.
You can expect your friends to see you as nothing more than a free fucking meal ticket.
So I stayed home today. And thus, it has been a productive day. Indeed, I've been pondering about WoW, and how it's allowing people to create parallel lives at the expense of their real ones.
And then I realize that line of thinking is just bosh. You can't expend a real life you don't have in the first place.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
As the Legend goes...
If you see dead man walking, your death will be soon.
The "dead man walking" is actually violent, multiple vortex tornadoes that frequently pass over the American plains each summer. Each vortice has a limited lifespan, and can create it's own funnel, creating the appearance of a tornado that "walks," as old vortices spin out and new ones are created.
Just a bit of trivia.
Otherwise, here are the pics I promised.
You'd have to be blind to miss it. It's right there on the right. It just looks like a lump of cloud in this picture, but it was rotating at about 5, maybe 6 revolutions a minute. I know, I'm a nerd. I counted, but really... what else is one to do when all the computers and TVs are turned off to prevent surge damage? It's too dark to read and too noisy to play music, so...
This was pretty much the eye of the storm. When it suddenly stopped raining, I ran outside and shot pretty much straight up and to the right, and that's what I saw. The whole system seemed to be rotating around this point in the cloud, and I'm pretty sure it's what they call a mesocyclone. Pretty interesting to see all the clouds whirling around this tiny little patch of calm.
This is perhaps the most uninspired picture of the bunch, as it completely loses its meaning without motion. Let me put it this way. See those little tendrils of cloud hanging on the bottom there? They weren't there two seconds before I shot the picture. They seem to materialize out of thin air, swirl around in a circle, and then get drawn further up into the cloud. Updraft. Whatever. Scary shit, because it was deadly quiet out when I shot this picture, and the only thing moving was the wind, the lightning, and the clouds.
And that's all of them. Should a full blown tornado come, I'll be sure to hurl myself into its path to get the best possible pictures for your enjoyment.
The "dead man walking" is actually violent, multiple vortex tornadoes that frequently pass over the American plains each summer. Each vortice has a limited lifespan, and can create it's own funnel, creating the appearance of a tornado that "walks," as old vortices spin out and new ones are created.
Just a bit of trivia.
Otherwise, here are the pics I promised.
You'd have to be blind to miss it. It's right there on the right. It just looks like a lump of cloud in this picture, but it was rotating at about 5, maybe 6 revolutions a minute. I know, I'm a nerd. I counted, but really... what else is one to do when all the computers and TVs are turned off to prevent surge damage? It's too dark to read and too noisy to play music, so...
This was pretty much the eye of the storm. When it suddenly stopped raining, I ran outside and shot pretty much straight up and to the right, and that's what I saw. The whole system seemed to be rotating around this point in the cloud, and I'm pretty sure it's what they call a mesocyclone. Pretty interesting to see all the clouds whirling around this tiny little patch of calm.
This is perhaps the most uninspired picture of the bunch, as it completely loses its meaning without motion. Let me put it this way. See those little tendrils of cloud hanging on the bottom there? They weren't there two seconds before I shot the picture. They seem to materialize out of thin air, swirl around in a circle, and then get drawn further up into the cloud. Updraft. Whatever. Scary shit, because it was deadly quiet out when I shot this picture, and the only thing moving was the wind, the lightning, and the clouds.
And that's all of them. Should a full blown tornado come, I'll be sure to hurl myself into its path to get the best possible pictures for your enjoyment.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Weather Phenom
So we had a supercell hit the city today. Well, maybe not a full blown one, but it was part of a chain of severe thunderstorms that made its way across the province. I believe they would call that a squall line, although I'm no meteorologist so my facts may be a bit sketchy.
However, that is beside the point. The weather today was like something you hear about in Tornado alley. I'm not exaggerating. I went out to witness the birth of this beast, and unlike most thunderstorms here in the city, it was a maelstrom of movement. The clouds were all rotating, like a bunch of drunken sailors trying to dance, and funnel clouds were dropping wherever the rain decided to stop.
And the rain did stop. It would be pouring one moment, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the rain would stop, and it would be dead still. The only sounds breaking the silence was the rhythmic peal of thunder and an odd rumbling-whistling noise, which I can only assume to be the sound of the cyclonic action inside of a very active thunderhead (ie. the sounds of the winds that would, under different circumstances, have given birth to a twister).
All in all, today was rather exciting. I have pictures, but since photos don't capture motion, I'm afraid they all just look like a bunch of dark clouds. I'll put them up tommorrow, but for now, I'm going to bed.
However, that is beside the point. The weather today was like something you hear about in Tornado alley. I'm not exaggerating. I went out to witness the birth of this beast, and unlike most thunderstorms here in the city, it was a maelstrom of movement. The clouds were all rotating, like a bunch of drunken sailors trying to dance, and funnel clouds were dropping wherever the rain decided to stop.
And the rain did stop. It would be pouring one moment, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the rain would stop, and it would be dead still. The only sounds breaking the silence was the rhythmic peal of thunder and an odd rumbling-whistling noise, which I can only assume to be the sound of the cyclonic action inside of a very active thunderhead (ie. the sounds of the winds that would, under different circumstances, have given birth to a twister).
All in all, today was rather exciting. I have pictures, but since photos don't capture motion, I'm afraid they all just look like a bunch of dark clouds. I'll put them up tommorrow, but for now, I'm going to bed.
Friday, July 07, 2006
News Flash
Good News/Bad News
I heard back from the paper. I didn't get the job, but I got referred to another paper that may want to hire me for a short-term position. Good? Yes. More on this later.
11 a.m. tommorrow morning, I have to make a trip to the electrical chair so the sadist with picks can make my gums bleed, all the while chastizing me for not following through on my barbaric oral hygene routine. I brush, I floss, I rinse. I don't understand the concept of quantity when it comes to rubbing my enamel and gums with a plastic brush. Next, they'll tell me to start cutting my veins to cure the fever.
Again, more on this tommorrow. Tonight, need sleep.
Signing off.
Edit: I'm almost done Tales of Symphonia. Expect a review, etc. coming up shortly.
I heard back from the paper. I didn't get the job, but I got referred to another paper that may want to hire me for a short-term position. Good? Yes. More on this later.
11 a.m. tommorrow morning, I have to make a trip to the electrical chair so the sadist with picks can make my gums bleed, all the while chastizing me for not following through on my barbaric oral hygene routine. I brush, I floss, I rinse. I don't understand the concept of quantity when it comes to rubbing my enamel and gums with a plastic brush. Next, they'll tell me to start cutting my veins to cure the fever.
Again, more on this tommorrow. Tonight, need sleep.
Signing off.
Edit: I'm almost done Tales of Symphonia. Expect a review, etc. coming up shortly.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Proof that He does not exist and/or is asleep at the wheel
I was a letter away from posting a very angry and perhaps unfair statement yesterday.
I'm not going to go into too much detail here, as it's a pretty personal matter. A dear friend of mine is facing a life-changing prospect, and I felt nothing but anger towards the circumstances I keep seeing levied on people who really don't deserve it.
Matters of faith aside, I really had to stop and think that everyone should have a right to live. The concept itself is simple, but when you think of the people out there, who debase their own goddamned existence by the things they choose to do and say, it's... well. It's a little hard to accept that they should be allowed to keep breathing and breeding, when somebody who's made something of their life isn't afforded the same luxury through some bizarre occurrence.
In any event, I'm more shocked by the good then the bad. I've become weary of the tragedy, so please, don't hold it against me if I don't break down or apologize every ten minutes.
I'm not going to go into too much detail here, as it's a pretty personal matter. A dear friend of mine is facing a life-changing prospect, and I felt nothing but anger towards the circumstances I keep seeing levied on people who really don't deserve it.
Matters of faith aside, I really had to stop and think that everyone should have a right to live. The concept itself is simple, but when you think of the people out there, who debase their own goddamned existence by the things they choose to do and say, it's... well. It's a little hard to accept that they should be allowed to keep breathing and breeding, when somebody who's made something of their life isn't afforded the same luxury through some bizarre occurrence.
In any event, I'm more shocked by the good then the bad. I've become weary of the tragedy, so please, don't hold it against me if I don't break down or apologize every ten minutes.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Segestica
I'm having a creative lapse at the moment, so to get out of it, I decided to take some pictures. What kind of pictures, you ask? Well, the most completely random shit I could find.
Like:
How the hell did all that dust get on my lens? How? HOW? Who the hell used my lens? And why the hell did that have to take it through DUSTVILLE, ARIZONA and not clean it off after they got back?
And:
Tea time? And how about some of that high class british porn?
And lets not forget:
Trying to find the answer to a question that nobody asked is like trying to sew with a needle and no thread. Eventually you just end up with a heap of unusable materials, some meaningless philosophy, and the naked truth standing there wide-eyed and shivering, and wondering why it never worked out the way it should have.
Genius, non?
Like:
How the hell did all that dust get on my lens? How? HOW? Who the hell used my lens? And why the hell did that have to take it through DUSTVILLE, ARIZONA and not clean it off after they got back?
And:
Tea time? And how about some of that high class british porn?
And lets not forget:
Trying to find the answer to a question that nobody asked is like trying to sew with a needle and no thread. Eventually you just end up with a heap of unusable materials, some meaningless philosophy, and the naked truth standing there wide-eyed and shivering, and wondering why it never worked out the way it should have.
Genius, non?
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Anniversary
It's Canada Day. Happy Canada Day, everyone. Enjoy the birthday of the red, white, and red.
Most of you will be out camping as I write this, so you probably won't read it until monday. I've got a few reasons to celebrate this day, but at the same time, I've got a few reasons to rue it. I was thinking I'd probably end up spending it alone, in quiet contemplation. Looks like I'll be right, for a change.
It's been a strange year. Not necessarily a bad one, but one can't trek from youth to maturity, and not look back and feel a pang of remorse. I'll admit it. I've missed a lot. I've put my priorities in the wrong places for too many years, and missing tiny experiences leads to bigger and bigger holes, until one day, you wake up and wonder why you didn't do things another way.
It's not possible to go back in time and fix mistakes. I've accepted that. I've also accepted that most people don't forgive, and failure is intolerable. Harsh lessons, but it's easier to ply with sincerity when you know you might not get any in return.
Anyway, I'm done sobbing on the internet now. Raise a toast with me, Happy Canada Day!
Ooo... Gin and Ginger, how I love you so.
Most of you will be out camping as I write this, so you probably won't read it until monday. I've got a few reasons to celebrate this day, but at the same time, I've got a few reasons to rue it. I was thinking I'd probably end up spending it alone, in quiet contemplation. Looks like I'll be right, for a change.
It's been a strange year. Not necessarily a bad one, but one can't trek from youth to maturity, and not look back and feel a pang of remorse. I'll admit it. I've missed a lot. I've put my priorities in the wrong places for too many years, and missing tiny experiences leads to bigger and bigger holes, until one day, you wake up and wonder why you didn't do things another way.
It's not possible to go back in time and fix mistakes. I've accepted that. I've also accepted that most people don't forgive, and failure is intolerable. Harsh lessons, but it's easier to ply with sincerity when you know you might not get any in return.
Anyway, I'm done sobbing on the internet now. Raise a toast with me, Happy Canada Day!
Ooo... Gin and Ginger, how I love you so.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Phase 5
The first interview went well. My combination of being a trained journalist and editor was well tempered by my sheer lack of experience in anything beyond a controlled or semi-controlled environment.
In other words, I've got the skills, but not the experience to use them. Still, the publisher must've seen something she liked, as I'm due in for another interview in 11 hours.
I feel like a soldier waiting for the LST to hit beach, so I'll know my fate and I can stop waiting.
Either way, I win. Either a job, or another month of freedom.
We'll see.
Edit: Looking back on this, I realized that I just pretty much mauled the English language. Pardon the edits, and my earlier lapse. It won't happen again, I swear.
In other words, I've got the skills, but not the experience to use them. Still, the publisher must've seen something she liked, as I'm due in for another interview in 11 hours.
I feel like a soldier waiting for the LST to hit beach, so I'll know my fate and I can stop waiting.
Either way, I win. Either a job, or another month of freedom.
We'll see.
Edit: Looking back on this, I realized that I just pretty much mauled the English language. Pardon the edits, and my earlier lapse. It won't happen again, I swear.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
The "e" is silent in Raine
Just like how the "o" is silent. And the second "f". And rey in the context of a name is pronounced "ree," not "ray," or "reigh," or whatever else comes out of uneducated pie-holes.
Thank you. Just thought I would put that out there.
Ooo, look at me. I'm a rumbly little thunderhead, come to rain upon your little town.
Thank you. Just thought I would put that out there.
Ooo, look at me. I'm a rumbly little thunderhead, come to rain upon your little town.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Bad luck's run out with Karma's sister
I got an interview tommorrow at 1:00 p.m.
I guess it was bound to happen at some point, but I really wasn't expecting it. My portfolio is packed, the pictures are ready. I'm even bringing my camera along for some along-the-way photo opportunities.
I'm a bit nervous, but whatever. Time for phase 4 of my master plan to begin, and soon, the entire world will belong to me.
Muhahahaha.
I'm going to bed now.
I guess it was bound to happen at some point, but I really wasn't expecting it. My portfolio is packed, the pictures are ready. I'm even bringing my camera along for some along-the-way photo opportunities.
I'm a bit nervous, but whatever. Time for phase 4 of my master plan to begin, and soon, the entire world will belong to me.
Muhahahaha.
I'm going to bed now.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Uncanny
| What Your Soul Really Looks Like |
 You are a wanderer. You constantly long for a new adventure, challenge, or eve a completely different life. You are a very grounded, responsible, and realistic person. People may not want to hear the truth from you, but they're going to get it. You see yourself with pretty objective eyes. How you view yourself is almost exactly how other people view you. Your near future is still unknown, and a little scary. You'll get through wild times - and you'll textually enjoy it. For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust. |
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