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Saturday, May 08, 2004


O-p-i-n-i-o-n 

Tryna shut us down before we even talk. Is that considered rude or something else altogether? In my OPINION Van Helsing was so terrible it was great. But I'm hardly going to sit here and argue out why.

"When you say you liked it, that is your opinion, when I say it didn't work, that's just a fact."
- Prof. Barta, paraphrased

Also, Mississauga was awesome. There was beer and Wendy's and helping my sister pack and sitting around watching TV with her boyfriend and playing euchre. It's just mile a minute action in the fun capital of the GTA. Yep, Mississauga is where it's at.

Friday, May 07, 2004


So bad it's so good it's bad 

Van Hellsing: A lot of guys are going to say it rocked. That it was really terrible, but so bad it was good.

I am here to dispell such foul rumours. Granted there was some wicked terribleness that was way over the awful line in the most hilarious manner imaginable, but at least 80% of the movie was awkward, stilted one-and-a-half-liners (someone didn't think their one-liner was strong enough, and rightly so), bad cinematography (but not bad enough to be funny), terrible editing (but not so bad as to confuse events and make weird things happen), and a fucking terrible plot that was, admittedly, kind of funny in retrospect. Guys, I will agree that the coach catching fire for no reason when the wolfman jumped on it was pretty great, but the film was generally sloppy and uninteresting. Those few havens of awesomeness were not enough to redeem it for me.

I got home and fell asleep. I only just woke up, and still I feel liable to crash at any second. I slept well last night, and have slept well in general recently, so I can't explain this at all. Maybe it's all the banana chips I ate on the way home.

The internet is alive with the sound of virus. Stock up on beans and don't go out of your home or it'll get you, with SARS.

Thursday, May 06, 2004


Haiku! 

Hmm so many choices. From Red-Shirted Ensign to snivelling henchman to leader of my own mutant syndicate! Actually, reality would probably involve me having a really shitty mutation. Like I'd be able to smudge ink on paper... with my mind. Or something else useless. Well, tomorrow's*the last day anything like this could happen because Sir David returns to England.

I can’t write haikus.
Right number of syllables
but they're still awful.

I honestly don't know why I like writing haikus. Normally I don't like things I'm not good at, like most sports. I do enjoy games where I'm playing against a team that has large numbers of talentless peoples as myself so I can use my natural aggression to gain an edge (like when we won 5-1 on our floor soccer game with two goals scored my yours truly with one assist). But while I suck at haikus I find myself writing them everywhere. Mainly in an academic context, I've written haikus on my classics and bio exams and one lecture started trying to take notes in haiku. What makes it so much more baffling is I hate poetry. Quite a puzzlement.

*Actually it's after midnight so I guess today is tomorrow


oofa. 

An uneventful trip back to UFA. We got to go watch a live digicast with some more innovative (i.e. "loaded") schools. Some kindergartners had a number of tips about saving the environment. On the note about "innovation" I have also learned about the awesome slush-fundism that goes on there. They have all this money sitting in an ABEL (Advanced Boradband Enabled Learning) fund that can go anywhere the least bit technological or innovative. Buying hardrives for a student movie covers bolth of those bases, I'd say. We got to see some clips of the current movie project at UFA. I was expecting overwhelming fromage and was pleased with what I saw. Um, we missed Studio Night. *Sigh*. We didn't see ShellBrains either. We saw that dickface, shithead Mac Peppler. I hope he googles himself, comes here and learns that he is shithead. He said to Neil that "everyone hated The Big Idea". I was staring off to space at the time and only clicked in afterwards and failed to cuss him out as he so clearly deserves.
Ooh. Tutoring continues. It's twice as frustrating as babysitting, but it's also twice as lucrative.


Another reminder why I hate most kids 

Today I worked at Fort York doing a Rent-a-Guard. Basically the members of the guard can be rented out for private functions. You know weddings, bar mitzvahs, divorce ceremonies. We can sing, dance, juggle, tell jokes, but usually we just march around and look good. So the event some of worked to day was some sort of History Fair for the Toronto Catlic District School Board. 2500 students from grade 6,7 and 8 were there to put there their history projects on display. IT WAS CHAOTIC!

Any time we marched out as a squad to do some drill we were constantly hounded by no less than 30 imps. These kids were both ignorant and obnoxious. They kept trying to make us laugh or imitate our marching (at which they were terrible). The most common questions were "Can I shoot something?" "Can you shoot me?" "If you were around in 1812 how are you still alive today?" and my personal favourite "Does your gun shoot spears?".

One disconcerted little Catlic asked me if the British army circa 1812 played primarily Protestant songs. I had to tell him that "yes, the army was made of heathen English and Scots and while the there were a lot of popish micks in the army they weren't in Canada" The Irish, of course, were recruited in large numbers to escape the poverty that was forced upon Ireland by the conquering English.

Once we stopped marching around as a unit I was happy to talk to the kids and show them my musket. So of them were actually quite friendly and intelligent. Being the big history geek that I am, I was eager to see some of the projects. Two girls had made a brilliant reconstruction of the Chateau Frontenac and a photographer from the Toronto Star took a half dozens pictures of me talking to the two girls and pointing at stuff on their Chateau. So look for me in the paper tomorrow.

My favourite part of the day was listening to the guy with the scottish accent tell Canadian history jokes and songs such as one catchy ditty "John A. was a drunk, Riel was a scoundrel". Though I doubt the accent was real, even though we know from PBS and CBC documentaries that everyone in colonial and confederation Canada spoke with either a french or scottish accent. Also the $15/hr was nice.


The World Needs Jewish Superheroes 

Jacob would probably end up being killed while on an errand, having committed no crime. His package would be extremely important, and on his way to deliver it he'd become a statistic. Some pyromaniacal hero or rival supervillian would waste him out of hand to ensure the destruction or retrieval of the bomb/vials/documents/monster fetuses/plutonium/hibernating alien/ magical artifact/ trapped soul/ decoy package. Either that or something completely unrelated to his job would grant him with superpowers and his inside knowledge of the corporation would assist him in his secret quest to bring down his employer. But when does THAT ever happen?

I've been thinking about religious superheroes for quite some time. I have come to the conclusion that the cross is a BORING holy symbol. No matter how you spin it, it's basically two wooden planks nailed together. Meanwhile, Semetic holy symbols are awesome, and they can be used for all sorts of stuff. Firstly, Jews already have the cool black suit. Second, they have the star of David, which can be used as holy shuriken and an awesome spell pattern. Like, this superhero rabbi would use his holy might to cast a prayer at somebody, and the star of David would appear beneath his feet, like a pentagram. Needless to say, the rabbi would be in the center of this glowing circle, and it would appear with a cool sound. Then would come the rain of burning sulphur or small flood or some other cool stuff. Third, the Menora (I think that's how you spell it), which has the nine candles. Instead of candles, you would have ROCKETS. The rockets would be able to fire in both single and burst mode, except for the central rocket, which would be larger than the others. It would be used mainly for delivering the coup de gras and only fire singularly. The hero could also say really cool stuff in hebrew (which I may or may not bother to translate for you), and have a hebrew accent, because they sound so damn good. Also maybe he'd be able to create a golem in times of great need. That would be pretty bitchin'. So we'd have this really cool rabbi and he'd be chasing down a vampire (everybody does, these days) and yelling really cool, vengeful stuff in Hebrew, and the vampire would be leaping around and dodging barrages of star of David shuriken, and then the rabbi would pull out his menora and BLAST the vampire with a barrage of rockets, and the vampire would be crippled, trying to force his ravaged lungs to pull in air as it lies on the ground five and eight feet from his right and left legs respectively, and the rabbi would say "Happy Hannukah" and fire the central rocket right into its mouth, blasting its head to smithereens.

Call me crazy, but I think that's WAY cooler than seeing ANOTHER guy running around with a cross. I'm also thinking that maybe he'd have a huge storage area where he keeps the candies thrown at various people during their bar mitzvahs. Normal people aren't very holy, but it's a religious occasion so the candies of normal people would be used as caltrops against evil beings. The candies thrown at people who later become rabbis or other holy figures can be used as GRENADES, exploding when they hit evil people or creature's. That's all I have for now.

Wednesday, May 05, 2004


What would REALLY happen 

As the one here who knows the most about comics (okay, superhero comics, anyways), and knowing what I do about our good friend Jacob, I can tell you exactly how it'll go down: Jacob, shocked by the sudden and unexpected death of his employer (under VERY mysterious and suspicious circumstances, most likely involving extra-dimentional energy [this always happens, regardless of context]) will be given the somber duty of disposing of his personal items, only to discover damning evidence of his employer's criminal megalomania (a costume, secret formula with written instruction for making more, control switch for a robot army, etc.). Rather than, say, turning this evidence over to the police, Jacob will of course use it to step into his ex-boss' shoes, becoming an even greater global threat than anyone could ever dream!

You can do it, man!


Those lazy hazy crazy days of summmerr.... 

My exams have been over for about a week now. I'm still grappling with the pain and sense of loss caused by calculus. I found out that I went into the exam with a 40%, meaning that I needed a 57% or so on the exam to pass the course. Please, all of you, pray to your dark gods on my behalf.

Instead of doing work, I spent the day playing SubSpace (Ben should remember this if no one else does). My friend and I spent 4 hours dogfighting. It really is "more addictive than crack". That's your cue to go download it.

I scored another job for the summer, perhaps the greatest job in the world, for me, anyway. If all goes well I'll probably start next week. I've also discovered the television wonder that is Trailer Park Boys. 'Nuff said.

Tuesday, May 04, 2004


Jacob already is the lackey, bitch, errand boy for this supervillain, he doesn't need and experiment gone wrong to become that. Besides what's the point of being a mutant if you'll just keep your old job and snivel. Another branch on the experiment gone wrong/mutant route: Jacob becomes a mutant and realizes that he is more powerful than his supervillain employer so breaks away and forms his own dastardly syndicate.


Nuh uh 

Now I know a little bit about villainy-- it's my career, as a Splinter Cell, to combat it for great Neo-Liberalism/Tom Clancy-- and I gotta say, none of that vigilante justice stuff is ever going to fly. No, Jacob, you exist only as the fall guy-- the red shirt. At best, you may be able to betray your master to the hero who comes to destroy his lab and bring him to justice. With this knowledge, you may wish to flee, but I advise against it, lest his gorgeous femmes fatale kill you because they are a) ninjas b) robots c) ninja robots. You gotta just play it out. Hey, maybe Sir Hobb's goblin army will succeed and take over the world? You could do well, because no supervillain would make his ninja robots women his seconds-in-command-- but you would be ideally placed.

Summer has begun, officially, then. Up at 4 am doing fuck all, reading and drawing comics, playing video games... wait. Maybe it's school again. This is so confusing.

We should have a comics page here.


Certifiable Villainy 

I'm more concerned with Killing Bear than Killing Bill. I called the 'Bear today. Apparently they're way behind in their schedule. I have to write a screenplay but I'm not sure I can use Kill Bill 2 as a reasonable guide in terms of format. Tarantino writes about abstract things that aren't onscreen and he capitalizes words that don't need capitalization. Still, looks cool. I will have a better look soon.

Jacob:
- The man is a sir.
- He works in hobgoblin research.
- His whole staff consists of attractive women in their 20's.
Put this together. I'm not an expert on my Marvel, but I know enough to know that this man is clearly a supervillain. Now, you've been hired as the errand boy for a supervillain. This can go in any number of directions:
- You get framed when his evil schemes are discovered.
- An experiment blows up, goo mutates you and you become his snivelling henchman.
- You work for years delivering packages, then you discover that the packages were bombs and you have an attack of conscience and decide you hafta take vigilante vengeance against your former employer but you can never go to the police and explain things because you would be implicated as a culprit in the exploding packages scheme.
I'd tell you to quit right now before things get nutty, but I dunno - the vigilante justice future and the snivelling-mutant-henchman future bolth have some interesting possibilities.

Monday, May 03, 2004


First day of work 

Well I had my first day of work (and my first hour of unpaid overtime) today. It's a very nice office (actually three rooms) and all my co-workers are very nice. Actually, it's kinda like a tv office in that all my co-workers are attractive 20-27 year old women. Sir David seemed like a nice guy in the few seconds that I met him. As for my actual work, it was scintillating stuff. I read through a bunch of articles on fertility and thalassemia, did errands and returned some library books. Oh and I went through 5 big binders and replaced all the Form 221 Version A's with Form 221 Version B's. Still it's a great atmosphere though everyone's a huge workaholic who regularly works till like 8-9 and I feel bad leaving at 5:00, though that's when they stop paying me.

Oh and check out the Kill Bill script if you haven't read it. There's lots of interesting things that got cut, like how the Pussy Wagon gets destroyed and the assassin actually being Lisa Wong's sister (prompting the line "You fucked with the Wong sisters"). Plus the screenplay is entertaining to read with descriptions like "HUGE MOTHERFUCKIN BUTCHER KNIFE" and "By mid movie this music should drive the audience wild with orgasmic anticipation of the carnage to come..."

Sunday, May 02, 2004


F.O.M. (Full of Movie) 

I have been on a super-creative blitz lately, thinkin' up ideas for movies. It's both a timely and tardy development-- I could have used some ideas back when I came up with the bullshit I like to call, "Five Short Films About Completely Different Things". But also it has saved my flagging film drive. I was at the precipice of applying for theatre, and these ideas have, for a time at least, given me hope for the film-ture.

Best of all, only three of them are about suicide. Out of four.


Dealing with anger 

Th' other day I'm just sittin' around at Deuuundas and Bloor. There seems to be a sizeable crowd at that new (concrete park?) they've built. I wonder what for. Then a woman approaches my friend and I. She asks where we're from, what school we're at and I tell her York. She says, "Oh, you don't look old enough to be in university". I was pretty pissed off, but I decided to go along with her. I gave her an over-the-top, "Thank you! Thank you so much!". She handed me a free ticket for a guest preacher in town. More enthusiasm from me, "Oh boy! Christian ministries! I've been looking for a ministry! Oh wow, this is so exciting!". My friend cracked up here and walked off. I told her I'd go and that I'd bring a friend, a non-believer. I expressed concern to her about the Dalai Lama's current visit in Toronto. I said I was worried about him misleading people. She told me, "All we can do is pray," "Pray for people's souls," I added. I thanked her intently and she left on her way. My friend had recovered from hysterics and rejoined me. Five minutes later I spotted the lady who'd given me the tickets. She was having full-body convulsions as a crowd of onlookers stood by and calmly chatted.


I'm Scarred for the Rest of My Fucking Life... 

Scariest. Thing. EVER.

Some creep who used to be in my writing tutorial sent this link to me. These things will forevermore have an especial place in my nightmares.

I'm going to go crawl into a fetal position and shiver now.


Fuck shit ass etc 

Today I was at church for the first time in like a month. Oh! joys of being home.

I had a lot of time to think. And I realized what my favourite thing to do is:
Cuss.

God bless "fuck", "cunt", "shit", "cock", and all those wonderous words that make cussin' possible.

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a gorilla with no superego.