03/28/2004 - 04/04/2004
On Wednesday night I had an extremely vivid dream. Basically it involved me running back and forth between a restaurant in the Bowlerama and a McDonald's but it was frought with symbolism and all. At the very end of the dream I saw Wayson Choy leaving a public school and signing the cross on his torso. I got a little bit closer and noticed he was dressed like a minister. This was the last thing I dreamt before I woke up.
The next day I'm eating dinner at Le Biftheque for my sister's birthday. As the people beside us get up to leave I see that one of them is Wayson Choy. His back was to me all evening, and it was only when he got up that I saw his face. My head was spinning. I was 95% sure it was him, but just to be sure, when the waitress came by I asked her the name of the man who picked up the bill at their table. She said his last name was Choy. I probably should have said something to Wayson Choy, but I've never read any of his books and I only know what he looks like because he came to my school and I've seen him on TV. And, "hey, you were in my dream last night!" sounds crazy.
Too bad I missed Meyers' par-tay. (Don't wake my sister up at 1:00 a.m. after I tell you there's only an 18% that I'm coming. It's not worth all the agony. And what if you had got me? Then I would agree to come to your house, leave right then and show up at 1:40? Think before you telephone, DrunkBox.)
I had some quality time with the dad and the sister. I showed my dad Roy and The Big Idea for the first time. I was expecting to watch Roy and B.I. and be like "Oh, that was so funny at the time but now it sucks" but actually I was like, "both of these productions are more solid than I thought they were, despite the muddled cause and effect". It's funny stuff, we should be proud.
Hooray it's my birthday. As such all Apes and associate Apes (you decide who this means, but I get veto power) are invited to Chez BoX tonite. Between B-Day money and scholarship from the Legion (Grandpa went to Italy I go to the LCBO) I got $750 just coming home. Beer abd Liquor stores both within 3 blocks, recipe for awesomeness.
My house is 227 Dovercourt Rd, 1/2 bock south of Dundas. Dovercourt is the first set of traffic lights west of Ossington. Phone number is 416 534 4552.
Show up any time this evening
This is an invitation to everyone on the board who isn't doing anything for Thanksgiving Dinner on Monday! Come on out and join a motley crew of hungry folks at Host Indian Restaurant, proposed time being 6 pm. Bring anyone you want-date, friend, homeless person-just come on out! The only catch is, you have to let me know for sure if you are coming as soon as you can so I can book a table. Thanks!
I'm not going to click on the link because the words "Michael Moore" and "underwear" together inspire a deep fear in me.
So the other day I bought Jon Stewart's America (The Book). It was really an impulse buy. I went in to buy a textbook but America was on sale for $25 (Well $26.80 with tax) and I just happened to have a $25 gift certificate on me. So take that The Rise and Fall of the Plantation Complex : Essays in Atlantic History!
The actual book is hilarious with tons of laugh out loud moments (which scared the other people in my house/classmates). It's set up exactly like a textbook with lots of glossy pictures and little fun fact asides. One of my favourite features was the "Would You Mind If I Told You About How We Do it in Canada?" where they discuss the Canadian system. One passage dealing with how we threw off the tyranical reign of Queen Elizabeth II goes: "Then in 1982 we petitioned the British to amend our constitution so we could amend our constitution without petitioning the British. Let freedom ring!" I could spend many pixels infringing on their copyrights but I'm not going to. It's a great investment, and I want some ballsy (i.e. tenured) prof to use it as a textbook in a politics course).
Okay now I'm going to be back in Toronto on Friday. And there's a sneak preview for Team America: World Police on saturday night at 7:00 at the Eglinton Town Centre. Just throwing that out there in case anyone wants to see it.
So, I spent all of yesterday shooting a documentary. Not shooting, because I'm the sound guy, but recording. It was a good day. At one point the director and camera operator snuck into Zellers, hiding the camera in her purse and shooting where we did not have permission. I was not on this mission, as a guy carrying a boom attached to a purse would be highly suspect.
It's a movie about a teenage mother who works two full-time jobs at Best Buy and Zellers. She's 19 and her son is 2. Since she's gone all day, her mother has to raise the child. The son's father is "in and out of jail every other weekend" but he sends her money. She agreed to let us make this video becuase she wanted to show people that she is a good mother. That seems pretty much true. No one really had anything negative to say about her.
We interviewed her and a bunch of her co-workers. No one at Best Buy knew she had a kid, not even her boss. He was puzzled about why we were making a documentary about this girl. He said it seemed like she had a secret. Interesting.
On the lighter side of things, the Michigan GOP wants to arrest Michael Moore for giving out underwear.
really, i know its against good manners, but its been a couple days and no one else has posted and I want to post again, so there!
I just caught up on like a month worth of Scary go round comics, they are so awsome. I think the last couple stories have been super good. Yeah, that comic is great.
Also, I am coming back to Toronto tonight, so I will be around to do some stuff this weekend, yeah for the city, and my parents washing machine! Hope to see you all in the next couple days
I was poking around Jeffery Rowlands blog and I found this http://www.michaelkelly.fsnet.co.uk/karl.htm.
I didn't have the courage to read any of the stories...
Also Jacob wanted me to include this while I was posting http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,12271,1317386,00.html
but that is more amusing and less mentally scaring.
That I have so much fucking work, I'll never make it.
That said, I'm right on course. I always hit this point of abject horror at the hopelessness of my scholarly situation at about this point in term. Now's where I pull up my socks (figuratively, Jon Blair) and get shit done.
Speaking of getting done, there's gonna be a party at my place. When? Friday? Saturday? What do you guys say? Either is pretty good. Maybe Saturday is better. Saturday then? Get back to me. Soon.
Been reading some Earle Birney. I saw his photo in this month's The Walrus, and was totally smitten. He looks exactly like the person I always wanted to be, world-weary and jaded and quietly falling to pieces. It seems like a weird aspiration, maybe, but it's what I want. Maybe a rejection of my safe and well-to-do upbringing? Maybe the romanticism of the brooding poet? I seem to be raising more questions in this post than answers.
Also I have been watching Sailor Moon. It amuses me greatly. I would like to live in this world where all women have gorgeous, long legs.
About me the night moonless wimples the mountains
wraps ocean land air and mounting
sucks at the stars The city throbbing below
webs the sable peninsula The golden
strands overleap the seajet by bridge and buoy
vault the shears of the inlet climb the woods
toward me falter and halt Across to the firefly
haze of a ship on the gulps erased horizon
roll the lambent spokes of a lighthouse
Through the feckless years we have come to the time
when to look on this quilt of lamps is a troubling delight
Welling from Europe's bog through Africa flowing
and Asia drowning the lonely lumes on the oceans
tiding up over Halifax now to this winking
outpost comes flooding the primal ink
On this mountain's brutish forehead with terror of space
I stir of the changeless night and the stark ranges
of nothing pulsing down from beyond and between
the fragile planets We are a spark beleaguered
by darkness this twinkle we make in a corner of emptiness
how shall we utter our fear that the black Experimentress
will never in the range of her microscope find it? Our Phoebus
himself is a bubble that dries on Her slide while the Nubian
wears for an evening's whim a necklace of nebulae
Yet we must speak we the unique glowworms
Out of the waters and rocks of our little world
we conjured these flames hooped these sparks
by our will From blankness and cold we fashioned stars
to our size and signalled Aldebaran
This must we say whoever may be to hear us
if murk devour and none weave again in gossamer:
These rays were ours
we made and unmade them Not the shudder of continents
doused us the moon's passion nor crash of comets
In the fathomless heat of our dwarfdom our dream's combustion
we contrived the power the blast that snuffed us
No one bound Prometheus Himself he chained
and consumed his own bright liver O stranger
Plutonian descendant or beast in the stretching night--
there was light
Earle Birney, 1941
So one of my housemates goes back to Toronto and his girlfriend of three (at least!) years dumps him. Then 3 days later he sees her with another guy who she's sleeping with now. I had no idea what to say. I mean, "Wow, sucks to be you" sprung to mind right away. Anyway our plan is to take him to AJ's (slightly sketchy club), get him really drunk and have him hit on anything that has two X chromosomes and moves (the last one isn't terribly necessary).
Anyway there's this really cool website that shows all the US campaign commercials. Go here and save your settings. Then check out these jingles, a custom that has sadly disapeared in modern politics.
There are also some really funny ones of which this one is certainly the surrealist.
To conclude with a quote I read somewhere (albeit one with a math error):
Interestingly, the average birth weight is seven pounds and approximately 1.5 million abortions take place in America every year, so that’s like 40.5 million pounds of dead babies produced annually. If you’re anything like me, you’re looking at these numbers and asking yourself, “Why hasn’t America cured world hunger yet?"
My home robit's not working which is why I haven't posted in more than a week so here's a run down:
Tom and I launched our radio careers yesterday, we rocked!
We played some Kid Koala, New Pornographers and Ywgwie Malmsteen, Tom says he's a German guitarist who took after Hendrix.
On Saturday Neil and I joined my friend Kimi at the Ptbo armoury. We were doing jello shooters. I learned I was doing it wrong when the plastic shot glass exploded in my hand covering me in jello and cutting my lip. Everyone in the mess had a good laugh at my expense. We got to hear war stories from one of the older Warrant Officers including how he captured a Chinese machine gun in Bosnia.
On Wednesday I went and introduced myself down at the sea cadets, I'm being taken on the staff as a civilian instuctor.
I'm coming home on thursday night, my parents are leaving for Troi-Rivieres Friday morning.
Anyways i'm going for 2 lbs of wings
So Salmon Eye (Sam and I) were at this taping of a short video. We were extras. The short is about a woman who loses a winning lottery ticket. As a gag, she is forced to run through a picket line of people protesting gambling in search of her lost ticket. That's where Salmon Eye come in. We're the extras. So we're holding these placards and marching across the sidewalk for this shot. The placards (Picards?) have messages written on them like "Don't gambel (sic) with the future" and "Gamblers are losers". So all of a sudden this crazyman on rollerblades appears in a rumpled suit. His entire head is shaved except for the back. He rollerblades back and forth shouting the slogans from the signs at us and guffawing. Then he decides to make up a "song" from the placard messages. I'm pretty good at holding in laughter but this is too much! The second I'm off camera I burst out laughing. This guy hangs around for five minutes and his shouting definitely ruined the sound for two takes. Finally the director pays him money to hit the bricks. Hilarious, but more hilarious were Sam's comments. "I wish I was as crazy as that guy," and "Now I've got a new idea for making money."