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Saturday, March 18, 2006


You can never have too much poem 

PART THREE : GUISEPPE AND THE FOUR FROGS OF FATE

I watched the waves break on the beach, their blue tops turn to white,
And sitting on a rounded rock, I thought about my plight.

Half awake and half aware, and wholly in frustration,
My ignorance of how to start my source of contemplation.

The sun was setting in the sky; the sky itself grew stormy,
When sure enough upon the shore what should appear before me?

A shimmering and shiny seal stood up and shook its head,
While much to my amazement it began to speak and said:

"Good day, my friend, how do you do? For I am doing fine,
Or rather it's 'good evening' now that it's the present time.

My name's Guiseppe, I am a seal, and feel we could be friends,
I'm more than willing, clearly, so that on you it depends."

So genial this mammal was, well-mannered and polite,
Agreeable to look at for he was a handsome sight.

I greeted him, attempting to return his kind hello,
And off the rock I jumped so I could join the seal below.

He sensed my own distraction, and remarked on my distress;
He was so kind and jovial, I could not but confess,

The matter grave to which I gave my utmost high concern,
And all the while a neutral smile and subtle look of stern,

Upon his face remained until at last my tale was done,
He turned, his eyes reflecting rays from the departing sun.

"I've just the thing to help you, friend, I've just the thing indeed,
I've just the thing that's perfect to fulfill your current need.

For on an island close to here, there dwells a foursome odd,
Four little ones that live alone, four special little frogs.

So very wise they are, and they possess a sort of prescience,
They don't predict the future, but they understand the present.

A query that is put to them about the best-most way,
What for to do, what's false or true, and how to live each day.

The here-and-now they know somehow, in all its small details,
For them the present splays itself, at once is all unveiled.

I'm sure they'll know just how this curse can best be but to rest,
Hop on my back, I'll take you there, so you can end this quest."

And so upon his back I hopped, across the sea we went,
What seemed a speedy session swimming through the waves we spent.

Blue was all around us, every side that I could see,
Nothing there besides the air and neverending sea.

Until at last a shapely mass emerged from hazy blue,
My mind and eyes both thankful to perceive a different hue.

For all about the island for a mile straight around,
The ocean turned an emerald green, and green it was straight down.

As closer still we came I had to squint to be quite sure,
As we came near it was quite clear: the green and misty blur,

Was no facade, the island in its great entirety,
Was wholly green, each rock and grain of sand and branch of tree.

It looked as though a toddler mixing paint had poured a pool,
Of yellow paint upon a canvas streaked with deep azul.

I had envisioned golden sands - a brilliant yellow shore,
Like each and every single beach I had been to before.

But here the sands were stained as though the very change of tide,
Deposited a hundred thousand different shades of dye.

And everything upon the surface coloured just the same,
It seems absurd to think off, but the truth is as I claim:

The furried creatures down below that scurried 'neath the trees,
Variegated were they - but with only shades of green.

Birds flew overhead whose feathers looked like blades of grass,
On small green legs walked small green shells of crabs that scuttled past.

Guiseppe swam up upon the sand, his flippers on the beach,
And off his side I slid until the bottom my toes reached.

So skilled a swimmer Guiseppe was that just my feet were wet,
My clothes were clean and dry when on the shoreline I was set.

But poor Guiseppe had no such luck - the island's tainted seas,
Had dyed his shiny sealy skin to match the leafy trees.

But feet on solid ground I found my footing rather flawed,
The sand was soft and soon I sank so swiftly through the sod.

Standard quicksand this was not, for quickly I submerged,
Were Guiseppe not right there with me, I'd never have emerged.

He grasped my shirt with clenching teeth, and pulled me to the side,
I gasped and hurt, but sighed relief that there I hadn't died.

Sadly all the care to keep me clean had come undone,
For as Guiseppe removed me I retained a film of mud.

I caught my own reflection in the shiny skin of seal:
My face, my hair, my clothes - all green, and varied forms of teal.

Conspicuous no longer would I be for now I matched,
Each object and each thing, and every creature that had hatched,

From each green egg; all baby beasts that born to mothers green,
Would now not think me quite the oddest sight that they had seen.

Hesitant to leave the friend who'd saved me this one time,
I nonetheless went on alone, and left Guiseppe behind.

Resolved at once to parry danger through a strict avoidal,
I walked uphill toward a dark green forest shaped cuboidal.

A wall of forest perfect in its linearity,
Each one aligned right straight behind the next preceding tree.

The tops of each were shaven clean - not even one stray leaf,
Peaked up above the even plane or through the thick green weave.

And on the boundary those that grew were riven right in half,
While through the midpoint of the square there cleaved the clearest path.

As though the trees had curbed their growth and curved at their discretion,
Arranged themselves with care into an orderly procession.

So finding such a favoured way, I set upon this trail,
My spirit slightly strengthened and my skin a sight less pale.

A deja vu descended for so many paths I'd crossed -
Here and there through sea and air - each which way I've been tossed.

But soon these thoughts were broken and abruptly were dismissed,
A branch unfurled and tendrils curled - one each around my wrists.

And then my ankles came entrapped, my limbs immobilized,
Around my waist two vines entwined and at my front were tied.

Their sinuous extensions quite surprised me with their strength,
For although they were long and thin, their power matched their length.

The grass beneath my feet began to wither and decay,
Dessicating to mere dust, then promptly blown away.

A gust of wind that, strangely strong, arose from quiet skies,
Concentrated only in the place I occupied,

Blew fiercer still and fiercer, 'till the ground beneath my feet,
Was swept away revealing what could be the sole retreat:

A roundish hole descending down to where, I could not see,
And all at once relaxing, all those tendrils set me free,

And with a final force that would have rivalled any storm,
Against my back the wind assailed until my feet were torn,

Ripped from the ground: I found I had been forced into the dark,
And gravity then took its course, and down did I embark.

With dampened sound I landed on a mound of light green hay,
Upon a floor of polished stone, all stained a greenish-grey.

One-two, one-two, an echo came from out beyond the room,
My muscles tensed - my mind had sensed this spot could be my tomb.

A final echo sounded as around the corner came,
A giant frog all dressed in clothes, and three more of the same.

The first one introduced himself as Newton, and went on,
Gestured to the two remaining (for the third was gone).

"Charles, and that's Samantha, they are quite the mismatched pair,
No attribute or trait there is, that you could say they share:

Samantha there is garrulous, while Charles is reticent,
Always wanting more she is; with nothing he's content.

She clothes herself with colours bright; he with colours dull,
Her eyes she deems her feature best; his sits beneath his skull.

They disagree on every point, and every single word,
That one emits, from th'others lips objections can be heard.

And here, my friend, the fourth and last, our brother dear and true..."
But he was interrupted 'ere he'd spoke his sentence through.

"Sir Brigadoon, of Smorglesborg", the final frog declared,
As Newton whispered in my ear "That one's a bit impaired,

He speaks in lies and gibberish and not a word of sense,
But such a joy to have around, I'll say in his defence.

For while prevarication is a potent predilection,
He has a certain charm I'm sure you'll see with some dissection.

So now that you have met we four, your question we request,
Just tell us what you wish to know, what theory we should test."

And once again repeating all, describing with detail,
The problem I encountered, 'till I'd told the whole long tale.

"Methinks this one will prove to be a challenge and a chore,
But thankfully it will not be a commonplace or bore.

Near all we've heard have been absurd, quotidian-like questions,
They importuned us day and night with endless queued processions.

Secluded we've become for our reputed skilled predictions -
Exaggerated to extreme - had turned from truth to fiction,

And creatures came from far and wide imploring counsel wise,
'Bout things we did not know, and did not care to, otherwise.

But this, dear friend, does interest us, and effort we'll apply,
And in the end you'll have some form of answer or reply."

And so the frogs retired to their chamber, locked and barred,
My eyelids fell across my eyes as night fell thick with stars.

When hours came and went and still no answer had been found.
With weariness I took to sleep upon the hardened ground.

Awakening to Newtons' footsteps through the corridor,
I saw confusion on his face as he walked through the door.

"We have an answer for you, though unusual it be,
You're to return to Cameroon - go back across the sea,

With one provision, one amend - one traveler to take,
I pray that our advice is true, I pray it for your sake:

You shall take with you Brigadoon, our brother frog of fate,
In some way he shall serve you, though it puzzles, perturbates.

What role this one shall function in, I can and will not say,
But if we're right he'll have a quite important role to play."

It seemed an answer fair enough, but as I rose to go,
I thought of one more question whose response I'd like to know.

I asked why green occurred here so ubiquitous and seamless,
Why nothing here - no speck or smear - was even slightly greenless.

"Why simply put, we're peaceful folk, and peaceably we live,
Instead of eating others we just take what nature gives.

Recall a bit of science and it surely hints at this:
That every creature dwelling here does photosynthesis.

We're kindred all, a family, and green our common banner,
What's hindered all the world outside, resides not in our manner:

No creature here goes wanting for the sun provides our plenty,
No creature here has ten when those beside him all have twenty.

Harmonious existence are we blessed with - lacking strife,
We also lack resistance that goes hand-in-hand with life."

With that they bid goodbye and through a staircase in the wall,
I climbed until arriving at the place before my fall.

With Brigadoon behind me I walked back toward the shore,
And told Guiseppe that our return would bear one creature more.

So back we went on Guiseppe's back, and forward through the waves,
En route to Cameroon with all its ripened fruit and caves.

Friday, March 17, 2006


Well... 

There is a tradition of math and science in hip hop music. I think it started with Rakim comparing himself to a scientist. Rhyming well, in complicated form, is often referred to as "dropping science".
Here are just three excerpts of songs that are in some way inspired by math or science.

Nigganometry
Canibus

Now if you take a glass of water then add two cubes of ice
you should see the cup's water level slightly rise, right?
You need to watch what I'ma show you (Watch this)
You need to look closely at what I'mma show you.
If you remove every living animal out of the sea
then wouldn't the world's ocean water level decrease?
This means the planet wasn't three-quarters water

Mathematics
Mos Def

Yo, it's one universal law but two sides to every story
Three strikes and you be in for life, manditory
Four MC's murdered in the last four years
I ain't tryin to be the fifth one, the millenium is here
Yo it's 6 Million Ways to Die, from the seven deadly thrills
Eight year olds gettin found with {{.9 mils}}
It's 10 P.M., where your seeds at? What's the deal
He on the hill puffin krill to keep they belly filled
Light in the ass with heavy steel, sights on the pretty shit in life
Young soldiers tryin to earn they next stripe
When the average minimum wage is $5.15
You best believe you gotta find a new grind to get cream
The white unemployment rate, is nearly more than triple for black
so frontliners got they gun in your back
Bubblin crack, jewel theft and robbery to combat poverty
and end up in the global jail economy
Stiffer stipulations attached to each sentence
Budget cutbacks but increased police presence
And even if you get out of prison still livin
join the other five million under state supervision

Chemical Calisthenics
Blackalicious

C-A-O-H-2 wine water solution of calcium hydroxide
Slobbin it, C-A-O lime will make bleach powder
Galvanic metal beats stomp out louder
Dried ice, C-0 squared refrigerant
N-O-2 makes you laugh, it's laughing gas used by the dentists
I nearly added acid glue, I'm like oil of a toil, the king of
chemicals
And the G heat gas waved all your mats
Chemical change, ice point, melt all your raps
Atomic weight, hold shocks, when you call
Refillable gas keep going way beyond
Biotch I'm only ill with buzzin, feel the ambiance
A diabetic process outta calm your ass
After I warm your ass, I'll give sodium, silicate N-O-2-S-1-O-3,
a water glass
Borax flexure full of brimstone sulfur
Boraxic acid, hip-hop preserver
C-O-2 could never put away the fire
Style aroma is scientific; the lyrical fuse would be connected
To teach you chemical calisthenics


It would be like wine without cheese 

In our math club meeting yesterday we watched some videos, and the prof said that he found the only serious math video in the library, right beside "Hip-Hop Multiplication". "Hip-hop Multiplication?" I thought to myself. Why, is there really any other kind? Can you possibly have one without the other? And was he implying that this sort of mathematics was not serious? Naturally, I needed to know more. Provided as I was with knowledge of the existence of this video, it would have been positively irresponsible of me not to seek out and procure what I could only presume was a masterpiece of theoretical mathematics, a spectacularly brilliant fusion of art and science. At the conclusion of the meeting my friend Adina and I went to the library to find this movie. Luckily, no one had yet taken it out, and I was not forced to enter into a wild, soul-crushing-disappointment-induced rage.

And, let me tell you, it was everything I'd hoped it would be. I cried a little inside when I saw the kids on the cover, with their backwards neon hats. And a little more while I stared longingly at the girl with her denim dress. Finally, when I saw the little boy with neon-rimmed sunglasses and face pouted and contorted in some pathetically unsuccessful attempt to look tough, well, that was too much for me. I only hope the next person to take out The Exciting World of Maps or Fun with Friction doesn't slip and fall on my tears.

Sadly, it was on VHS and neither of us have a VCR, so we couldn’t watch it right away, but I’m consoled by the belief that the passing days of anticipation can do nothing but augment the satisfaction I will receive upon watching it.

While I was there I also found Discordia, which was good. As minute as my interest in politics is, it impresses me when even a somewhat politically-oriented film is able to capture my interest.

On Monday I had to run a tutorial in a genuine lecture hall (as opposed to a high-school sized classroom) and it surprised me how much of a difference it made (in that I was considerably unnerved by it, at least initially). Of course it didn't help that the math building designed its lecture theatres with a slope of about 60 degree. Possibly less than that, but nonetheless much steeper than any other lecture theaters I've ever been in. It felt like I was at the bottom of a giant pit.

Thursday, March 16, 2006


World Premiere 

Have a close look at the letters to the editor section of NOW Magazine.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006


Clash of Civilizations: Comic Edition 

So first there was the Danish cartoon controversy.

Iran struck back by sponsoring a Holocaust cartoon contest (I toyed briefly with writting an Onion-News-in-Briefesque article called: "Maus wins Holocaust cartoon contest in upset")

Things seemed to calm down the Cartoon Front until DC comics had Batman take on al-Qaeda.

Furious, al-Qaeda enlisted their own cartoon hero, Rakan Ben Williams. Rakan threatened a massive terror attack against the West, although he's probably fictional and named after Rakan, a popular comic character (Rakan and his plucky allies, battle the entirely non-allegorical "Zios Army").

So where does V for Vendetta fit into all this? Who knows. Anyway, create your own comic here.

Speaking about fiction, my housemate told me she thinks the moon landing is faked. I really didn't have a good response to that, so I went to a few good debunking sites. Clavius is a good site, they put up specific quotes and debunk em. In their section on the Van Allen belt (a radiation belt around their planet) they put up this nutty conspiracy theory to rebut:

An orbital nuclear detonation in 1962 code-named Starfish Prime created a third Van Allen belt composed of high-energy electrons. This belt was a hundred times more intense than the existing Van Allen belts and was computed to have a half-life of 20 years.
'What a implausible idea' – I think to myself. Then I read the rebuttal and it turns out the US government did detonate a nuke in orbit codenamed Starfish Prime which did create a third radiation belt around the Earth. It just didn't last as long as they said. Wow. That is something I did not know.


Sobriety is for Chumps 

Did anyone see the CBC 2-part movie about Tommy Douglas? The first 2 hours were broadcast on Sunday night. We invited several of our colleagues from the Trent NDP over to watch the movie with us. In honour of the occasion we decided it was only appropriate that we should all be drinking booze from socialist countries, so we had rum from Cuba and Venezuala, and Russian Vodka. To speed up the drunkening we all drank when ever someone said "communism", "socialism" or "bolshevik". We played fooseball and debated the relative merits of different forms of government until early in the morn. Andy, our 18 year old treasurer and the most centrist of the group, was destroyed by his attempt to keep pace with the rest of us alcoholics. He spent the night on our couch and the next morning earnestly thanked me for socializing him.

I just realized that 6 out of 7 members of the executive body of the Trent NDP are transplanted Torontonians. That wasn't even by design.

I gave blood today at a temporary clinic set up in one of the college dining halls. This was my second time giving blood and I was a lot more relaxed than the first time. I hate needles. After the bloodening and hit the library for a couple hours. When it was time to go home I had to run to catch the bus. As I boarded the bus the girl in the first seat screamed and pointed at my right arm, which was covered in blood! I had forgotten the nurses warning not to do any phyical activity after giving blood. That was an uncomfortable bus ride home.

The weather seems so unpredicable right now. In Peterborough, we enjoyed gorgeous weather over the weekend, but today the city was shrouded in a very thick fog bank. All I can see of the house across the steet is a vague outline.

Oh yeah here is the picture of Tommy Douglas that we are putting on out shirts


Monday, March 13, 2006


Plenny Sweddy 

So:
1) I got 2.5 hrs of sleep last night.
2) I was working all wknd on my treatment (like a screeenplay) (I'm unhappy w/ it)
3) I'm at school now wearing the same faded green sweatpants I slept in (b'iz I already had them on from the day[?] before).
4) I'm in my editing suite right now.
5) In two hours I have to talk to the PhD student whose 'sperimental flim I'm editing.
6) I saw these wicked hillbilles walking thru yerk lanes carrying the eye of Sauron and a helmet and a straw hat.

Note: The St. Paddy's shit is still in R & D, but I want everybody to keep revving their engines. Shit IS gonna pop off.

Sunday, March 12, 2006


Goin' Ape 

Update: Because I like all of you more than I like Peterborough I will be returning to Toronto on Friday morning in time to celebrate the Patron Saint of Ireland and beeeeeer. Then on Saturday I will go to the war protest.

Milosevic might have pulled a Herman Goering

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a gorilla with no superego.