03/28/2004 - 04/04/2004
From Dubliners, by James Joyce:
His tram let him down at Shelbourne Road and he steered his great body along in the shadow of the wall of the barracks. He loathed returning to his home. When he went in by the side- door he found the kitchen empty and the kitchen fire nearly out. He bawled upstairs:
His wife was a little sharp-faced woman who bullied her husband when he was sober and was bullied by him when he was drunk. They had five children. A little boy came running down the stairs.
"Who is that?" said the man, peering through the darkness.
"Who are you? Charlie?"
"No, pa. Tom."
"Where's your mother?"
"She's out at the chapel."
"That's right.... Did she think of leaving any dinner for me?"
"Yes, pa. I --"
"Light the lamp. What do you mean by having the place in darkness? Are the other children in bed?"
The man sat down heavily on one of the chairs while the little boy lit the lamp. He began to mimic his son's flat accent, saying half to himself: "At the chapel. At the chapel, if you please!" When the lamp was lit he banged his fist on the table and shouted:
"What's for my dinner?"
"I'm going... to cook it, pa," said the little boy.
The man jumped up furiously and pointed to the fire.
"On that fire! You let the fire out! By God, I'll teach you to do that again!"
He took a step to the door and seized the walking-stick which was standing behind it.
"I'll teach you to let the fire out!" he said, rolling up his sleeve in order to give his arm free play.
The little boy cried "O, pa!" and ran whimpering round the table, but the man followed him and caught him by the coat. The little boy looked about him wildly but, seeing no way of escape, fell upon his knees.
"Now, you'll let the fire out the next time!" said the man striking at him vigorously with the stick. "Take that, you little whelp!"
The boy uttered a squeal of pain as the stick cut his thigh. He clasped his hands together in the air and his voice shook with fright.
"O, pa!" he cried. "Don't beat me, pa! And I'll... I'll say a Hail Mary for you.... I'll say a Hail Mary for you, pa, if you don't beat me.... I'll say a Hail Mary...."
I've decided that Alex Magee sounds more old timey and adventurous.
As I was riding home from school this afternoon I was on the bike trail by the river and decided to take a detour for the purpose of exploring the backcountry. I was riding up and down the hills and through the woods, which was a terrifying experience because my brakes are really shoddy and need tightening. With every turn or bump I thought I was going to die. Eventually the trail ran out and I found myself on the fringe of the Peterborough Golf Course. Temptaion was too much for me, so when the opportunity presented itself I ran to the nearest sand trap and WhiteBox life size.
I didn't want to be too intrusive (or arrested for trespassing) so carried my bike across the greens to the path but as I rounded the first hole and was hurtling towards my exit I couldn't help but give the most hair raising Apache/badger war whoop "YIPPI-IYAY-KIYAY EEEEEUUUULAAAAAAALIAAAAAAA". The stodgy dodgers who were teeing off are lucking that the Blood Mist of my ancestors has been diluted. The Long Patrol would be proud.
For my next expedition I would like to lead an expedition to conquer Absynnia or Siam, or perhaps reconquer the Punjab.
Mac the Knife, as it appears in my new text of The Threepenny Opera
See the shark with teeth like razors.
All can read his open face.
And Macheath has got a knife, but
Not in such an obvious place.
See the shark, how red his fins are
As he slashes at his prey.
Mac the Knife wears white kid gloves which
Give the minimum away.
By the Thames' turbid waters
Men abruptly tumble down.
Is it plague or is it cholera?
Or a sign Macheath's in town?
On a beautiful blue Sunday
See a corpse stretch in the strand.
See a man dodge round a corner...
Mackie's friends will understand.
And Schmul Meier, reported missing
Like so many wealthy men:
Mac the Knife acquired his cah box.
God alone knows how or when.
Jenny Towler turned up lately
With a knife stuck through her breast
While Macheath walks the Embankment
Where is Alfred Gleet the cabman?
Who can get the story clear?
All the world may know the answer
Just Macheath has no idea.
And the ghastly fire in Soho -
Seven children at a go -
In the crowd stands Mac the Knife, but
He isn't asked and doesn't know.
And the child-bride in her nightie
Whose assailant's still at large
Violated in her slumbers -
Mackie, how much did you charge?
It's long, so maybe selected verses?
Also, i am re-issuing my invitation to Toronto apes to join me at the Pete and Pat show this Friday. Respond either in the comments, or email me at Lam.Sinton@gmail.com.
Who wants to go see the Novaks w/ me tomorrow night (Sept 20) ?? It's at the Horseshoe Tavern and it's FREE! I think that it starts around 10? I'm not too sure about that right now... call me on my cell and I can give you more details: 1 (905) 269-5076, or at home (416) 736-1384. Their first single "Goodbye Rock and Roll" is pretty good, so I hope the rest of it is good too!
One week of class down, 30 more to go (giver take). Most of my classes seem promising, execpt for POST 235- Political Imagination, which is dud, but a dud that's mandatory for any PoliSci degree. BOOOO!
Friday, went to kegger with Kate, Erin and the housemates (minus Devon who has decided that he doesn't like keggers). The kegger was at the house where Kate and Erin lived last year. The place was filthy. the floor was covered in dirt and lots of spilt beer and gawd knows what else. I'm glad I kept my shoes on. The brainiacs who bought the kegs had removed the tops, apparently the tried and tested pump-and-tap method was to easy and sanitary. So to fill a pitcher to people had to left the keg and pour the beer into the pitcher. You can understand why the floor was covered in spilt beer. The beer was warm and gross. The party had a serious fraggle infestation, due to mixed company I was on my best behavior which took a lot of effort. I think someone in the house had a sword cause the couches were cut to ribbons. Went home with Kate.
Saturday, after buying some used books downtown I went adventuring along the lake/river, rode through a cemetary (no masons or gwwwwaaaaavewwwooooobbing), climbed over abandonded rail swing bridge. I trespassed through the backyard of the Peterborough Naval Association, walked along the rail line, walked through some sort of soccer tournament, cheered when one kid with awful hair got levelled by a wicked tackle from an ugly brute twice his size.
Saturday night, the housemates went to the bar, I was exhausted so stayed home. Devon was the first one home at about 2:30, first thing he says is "I think I have girlfriend now" in the most bemused tone I have ever heard. I started choking on my glass of orange juice but recovered and axed him to explain. He proceeded to tell me about making out with one of Kimi "not a hoodrat" Matsuyama's new housemates. I'll hear the full story from Tom and Ryan tomorrow (today, sunday).