behindeverygreatmanlies

2008-12-15T14:50:00.001-04:00

This has been, behindeverygreatmanlies. Thank you...

2007-09-08T12:00:00.000-03:00

Why do we do the things that we do? When you're the questioning type like I am, life begins with that dough-eyed phase of uncertainty where you constantly tug on your mother's dress with basic queries about the color of the sky and the exact reason why you have to be in bed by 8pm. You eventually carry this inquisitiveness with you as you're ushered through the gates of the educational system; a system they assure you will more than amply solve all life's mysteries that have been plaguing your mind. For certain, school does assuage the questions for a while, and maybe even come up with an answer or two that make sense to you, but eventually, at some point that is difficult to pin down, the shit just doesn't add up anymore.

Maybe you don't know what I'm talking about. Maybe you're one of the fortunate few for whom life, society and the general order of things has always made sense somehow. Maybe you get frustrated with the stupidity and rigidity of the "system" on occasion, but as a rule life to you is pretty simple. You're born, you grow up, you find a profession or lifestyle, you make a couple of trips to exotic locations, get a tattoo, you fall in love, grow old and move to Fort-Lauredale to live out your golden years far away from the noise of the big city.

If you're like me on the other hand, life and society get more confusing and perplexing with every single year. The way I sometimes chronicle my past is by remembering the year (for instance) that I realized that the American government was almost identical to the Nazi regime, or the day when it dawned on me that not one single living being on this planet knows anything for fucking fact, that we basically live in a fabricated reality governed by widely-accepted theories, and follow the lead of those individuals that sound the most convincing when they advocate the so-called truth (not because they actually know better!). In short, my perception of knowledge and life-experience is akin to keeping a large stamp collection, but replace the stamps with still shots of my epiphanies.

It's not all as grim as it sounds. You often come to positive or humorous realizations about life too. Life tells you one really good joke a day if you pay attention closely. Today's joke is that I can't think of a single good example to support the thesis of this paragraph, in the same way we never remember jokes when we would have he opportunity to share them with friends. Suffice to say that I'm not claiming that becoming aware of shit makes for a life of disappointment or anything that goth-like, I'm just saying that as maddening as my life can be because of the fact that I pretty question everything, I honestly would not want it any other way.

Yeah, society is fucking insane. People often amaze me with the enthusiasm with which they embrace their ignorance, or how they openly and gladly celebrate mediocrity. But like with all things you have to keep your eyes and ears peeled for the handful of folks that will make you feel pure and progressive; the close friends or family members that motivate you and give you hope.
That's as close as to a remedy as I have found for the acute WTF-itis that I have been living with since early childhood.

So this goes out to the boys and girls in my life who bring me joy, laughter, and meaning (you know who you are). Thank you for keeping me alive.

"Humor can be dissected like a frog, but it does die in the process and the innards are discouraging to any but the pure scientific mind." - E.B. White

2007-07-26T12:27:00.001-03:00

It's been a long time again, this is becoming one of those real blogs where I don't touch it for weeks and then suddenly update it with some kind of an emergency bitching and moaning session. Well let's see what we can do to avoid that shall we?

I was talking about marriage with some of my work colleagues the other day, and what the institution means to us in this day-and-age. For my part marriage pretty much means diddly freaking squat; it's an sorely antiquated institution that has no conceivable advantage or elevating factor for any long-term relationship. I don't find it romantic, joyful or symbolic of anything genuinely important between two people in love. If anything I find marriage (in the traditional ceremonial sense) somewhat of waste of time and good money, and I find it disconcerting that our society still places such importance on an institution that was basically created to barter off underage women and create financial alliances between families.

Granted, marriage can take many forms these days, and for the most part our laws have cleaned up the statutory-rape factor of traditional marriages. That's of course if you don't count those non-denominational religious sects, third-world arranged marriages (at the tip of an axe and a can of kerosene), and various other cultures that aren't done enslaving/torturing their women. Whoa, how did this post become a feminist manifesto?

Look, I'm not saying that two people cannot take vows, exchange meaningful pledges under the eyes of "God", or that they can't party it up with friends and family. All I'm saying is that it won't make that relationship necessarily any stronger for it. If you don't believe me, look up the divorce statistics in North America sometime. I guess the mistake many people make is that marriage will save their relationships and magically wash away pesky relationship-killers like alcoholism, infidelity,violence, lack of responsibility or halitosis. Those same people will look at a happily-married couple (yes, it does work out sometimes!) and think, "oh my god that could be us if we get married!". I mean I have guy-friends my age that actually are looking for wives more than they are interested in finding someone meaningful to share their lives with.

And to think that homosexuals are tearing down the walls for privilege to marry like straight people. Have we learned nothing?

"The fact that an opinion has been widely held is no evidence whatever that it is not utterly absurd; indeed in view of the silliness of the majority of mankind, a widespread belief is more likely to be foolish than sensible." - Bertrand Russell

Icky Thump

2007-06-23T11:31:00.001-03:00

2007-06-05T21:34:00.000-03:00

Since the beginning of civilization Man has believed in the concept of Hell or Purgatory; a place of unparalleled suffering, anguish and limitless agony. All the religions or faiths have a name and/or a vision of such a place, the most familiar of these being the classic Christian depiction that involves shrieking naked bodies piled upon each other in a burning apocalypse. I came to the personal conclusion however that Hell is not so much a place but it's the piles of fucking shrieking idiots. I take the bus to work every day...

PS Commuters+90% humidex+no ventilation on buses = fantasies of Kalashnikov-assisted mass murder.

"If people were hate, I'd be China!" - City Slickers

2007-06-04T21:42:00.000-03:00

What happens when one hand doesn't know what the other's doing? Or, in a corporate context, what happens when the thumb doesn't know what the ass is doing?

You'll have to excuse me, I had a bit of a frustrating day at work today.

Where do I begin? Should I start with the fact that despite the high-profile company name and reputation, I have somehow ended up in nearly the same situation as the one I was in before? I work, for the most part, with a bunch of emotionally challenged, miserably incompetent, ethically under-tooled assgoblins! The main difference being that they are, for the most part, a really nice and smiley bunch of emotionally challenged, miserably incompetent, ethically under-tooled assgoblins. Can someone please explain to me what kind of a company refuses to accommodate commuting employees during a transit strike, refuses to hire people on a full-time basis (except managers), has a turnover rate like a Puerto Rican whorehouse, but doesn't mind hiring weirdo Eurotrash that lie on their applications and ask for time off during the busiest time of the fiscal year because the "sailing season" is around the corner?

Too specific? Yeah, OK, I realize that this is all pretty meaningless to the average person stumbling across my ramblings, but Sweet Christ did I ever need to write that down! Digital therapy at its best people.

Look, I realize that I'm doing it to myself. If I wanted to interact with human beings on a genuine level and to search for a deeper meaning of life and creativity, I'd be better off trying to develop a meaningful relationship with my aftershave. What I'd like to figure out is how I can prevent the whole eventual assault-rifle-assisted dive off the deep end...

"Meetings are an addictive, highly self-indulgent activity that corporations and other organizations habitually engage in only because they cannot actually masturbate." - Alain van der Heide

2007-05-21T16:42:00.000-03:00

Is there such a thing as perfect film trilogy? I seriously doubt it. Lord of the Rings (if you're into that kind of genre) is pretty much the only franchise that ever came close to successfully pulling off the 1-2-3 combo, but even there it took like 7 years of simultaneous filming to maintain the continuity throughout the story. Coppola managed to pull off two phenomenal installments in the Godfather saga, but the third fell short of the originals in so many ways.

Why the hell am I going on about sequels anyway? Well I had the incredible displeasure of walking into the theater last Friday and sitting down to watch new Spiderman movie. Sweet Lord sitting up on high, looking down low, THIS MOVIE IS A FREAKING ABOMINATION! I think the expression we're looking for is "screwing the pooch", which Avi Arad and Marvel certainly did repeatedly. There were so many things wrong with this overpriced piece of crap that I hesitate where to begin. The first thing the makers of this film should do is line up the director and editor (fuck it, bring the cinematographer too) against the wall and make them eat all of the footage directly from the reel cans. Maybe after that they'll begin to understand what it was like to watch S3. The most frequent complaint I have heard from other disappointed movie-goers is that the movie drags out the chemistry-deprived relationship seesaw between Mr and Mrs Watson. I have to agree, watching Kirsten Dunst and Tobey Macguire emote, sob and coochy-coo on the screen repeatedly throughout the film did nothing to relieve the nausea-factor, but I think the problems with this movie run so much deeper.

Let's forget the fact that it feels as though someone forgot to extract the blooper reel from the final cut, or the fact that there are enough plot holes or character-development inconsistencies to make a soap opera writer upchuck his latte and raisin biscotti. The real brain-melter in Spiderman 3 is the sheer amount of directions it seemed to be trying to go in. I believe the term we're looking for this time is a "clusterfuck". Oh and I love the fact that they shook the camera endlessly during every action scene (all 3 of them) like it was mounted on the back of a baboon on PCP. While were on the subject of visual effects, I'd like to know why 5-years after the first Spiderman movie the CGI animations of Spidey seem to look worse than before? I mean Sandman and Venom looked great so what did they do, recycle footage of Spiderman swinging through the city from the first flick (like they used to in the old 60's cartoon)?

I could go on for a while here but I think I've made my point...

"Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese." - G.K. Chesterton

2007-05-08T21:49:00.000-03:00

I'm on week 3 as IKEA's answer to the Great Gazou, and it's been a hell for ride so far. The adjustment period is far from over, but I have to say I seem to be making a good name for myself so far. I won't bore you with the details dear friends; suffice to say that I'm working long hours, meeting some cool people, and confirming my suspicions about the corporate world in general (it is for crazy people).

In other news this documentary on Canadian music history is playing as I type this, and I realized that Canadian music doesn't suck period, it just sucks now. I think Canadian bands like ruled the universe in the 60's and 70's or something, or at the very least wrote every second track that you'll find on a "classic rock" compilation. It's a shame the digital music revolution has pretty much put a nail in the coffin of compilations and mix tapes. There was something kind of cool about having friends exchange their favorite tracks and music being a little hard to get. It made people go out and haunt record stores, talk about it at parties and maybe even discriminate more. It seems like music is now in a kind of overdrive where it's just being crated to fill this new insatiable craze. Sometimes I almost have to push music away for a little while so I don't get sick of it, don't you?

"A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking." - Harold Fricklestein

2007-04-16T15:25:00.000-03:00

The world is much like it has always been; shitty bands and slutty pop stars monopolizing the charts, too much greed, corruption, consumerism, politics and ignorance and the Great 9-5 Nation soldiers on. But wait, what's this? Jason has a new job? That's right, I have a new job and it starts next week, but you already know this. What you don't know is that this fact only kicked in sometime last night when I walked out of the Cinema Guzzo (following 3 hrs of Grindhouse insanity) and beheld the 15+ centimeters of now blanketing the streets of Montreal.

I was standing there puzzled by this January-like scenery (on a crisp mid-April evening!), thinking to myself, "Man, going to work tomorrow is going to be a bitch!". Needless to say that it took all of ten seconds for me to intellectualize the fact that all I had to worry about "tomorrow" is what position I was going to be lying in on my couch, while watching bad action movies and scratching myself. Awww yeah....

So I was fortunate enough to get this week off to "purge" myself of all spirits and demons, and prepare myself for a new chapter in my life as an office arch-automaton. It's not as dramatic as it sounds, but it does require a certain kind of self-awareness. I still feel weird when I realize that I'll never have to walk into that office again and sit at that desk, but it should wear off eventually.

In other news, I saw Grindhouse, the Tarantino/Rodriguez double-feature, and I thought it was pretty good. Over-the-top as fuck, but funny if tedious at times. I have to admit that the funniest scenes in Grindhouse were the mock-trailers that preceded the actual films. They were these brilliantly edited 70's-style exploitation teasers for movies that don't exist, but definitely should. With titles like Machete, Thanks Giving, and my personal favorite Werewolf Women of the SS, Tarantino and Rodriguez might be the kings of derivative-self-referential kitch, but at lest they still know how to make people laugh (and retch!).

"Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it." - Ellen Goodman

Ikea

2007-04-14T23:40:00.001-03:00

2007-04-09T01:12:00.000-03:00

T-Minus 5...

That's how long I have left before I sign-off from my current job, and I finally throw off the rusty shackles of wage slavery, and...put on some much more attractive ones with a longer chain! Come this Friday I will be leaving behind a job that I have hated for longer than I care to remember, but that has ironically afforded me with the know-how and experience to score a much better job. Funny how things work out.

These next couple of days should be interesting. I have already taken steps to confuse my current employers by working my ass off during the past week (I gave the a 2 week notice), and I'm going to see how long I can keep the cat in the bag with my team. There ought to be a little ruckus from the whole deal, but nothing should be more satisfying than to wave goodbye to every incompetent fuckwad that's made my life harder with their lack of everything. To even imagine that I won't have to ever think/see/hear about that certain list of people is in itself enough to make me want to weep like an Albanian orphan.

Well, we'll see what's what, eh?

"Some men are born mediocre, some men achieve mediocrity, and some men have mediocrity thrust upon them" - Joseph Heller

2007-03-26T18:42:00.000-03:00

The concert...

I wish I could say that I was blown away by Tuesday's metal mayhem extravaganza, but the truth is that I was left a wee lukewarm by all of it. Things got off to a promising start when I managed to scam my way into the show with my digital camera (they were turning them away at the door and forcing people to check them with their coats) by claiming that I was a freelance reporter from Outburn magazine, and several other prominent online metal publications. The truth is that I knew what to say because I actually have been a show correspondent for a metal/hardcore/indie website, but that was like a gazillion years ago.

I got to the show just in time to see the end of Gojira's set, which sounded awesome. I'm happy to report that they have stage presence as well as a solid live sound, although someone should tell them to stop dressing like Metallica circa 1992. Whatever, they rocked the house, and I wish I could have heard their entire set. Hope they come back for another round. Funniest thing with Gojira was listening to the "singer" growl through an 8 minute song like some kind of a demonic creature, and then thank the cheering crowd at the end of the song in this little squeaky voice, and in a Parisian French too. It's like Pepe Le Pew fronting Slayer.

Then came Machine Head, who continue to open for bands that rip off the sound that Pantera (and Machine Head) actually developed. It's always confusing to see a band that's been around for like 15 years get the kids hyped up for the flavor of the year. I guess it was that way when I was 16 too. Probably a whole mess of pissed-off dudes in their 30's who couldn't believe that Motorhead was opening for Metallica. It was also kind of sad to see Machine Head's lead singer suck up to the crowd after every track with patented "you guys are the best crowd ever!" and my favorite, "you guys kick (insert previous town played) ass!".

Trivium was on next, or as I like to call them, Tedium. They hit the stage to the requisite cacophony of screeches from the 700 14-year-old girls and boys in attendance. Trivium is one of these new school metal outfits where the members look like they should be in a goth boy band, but they play this ear-splitting riff-metal that sounds really like that Megadeth song you used to love. Technically sound, but more derivative than a Bruckheimmer flick. They had really nice hair though.

Finally Lamb of God came on, which made everyone lose their goddamn minds much like I had expected. They came on after the token3 minutes of feedback, mood smoke and red spotlights. When they hit the stage the roof almost came off, but somehow I just stood there bobbing my head to the drums and yawning every once in a while. It's not that it was boring really, just that the sound man was basically asleep during half the set, and with LoG songs, you really need to hear the guitars if you're going to distinguish one song from the other. In all fairness these guys kick butt, and the front man Randy Blythe did have credibility as a howler, that is until he accidentally told us how happy he was to be back in Toronto. He payed for that one, let me assure you...

"The young have aspirations that never come to pass, the old have reminiscences of what never happened." - Saki (Burman-born author)

2007-03-20T11:24:00.000-03:00

Tonight is the night! After a two-month-long agonizing wait, Lamb of God is finally coming to town tonight to shred Montreal to pieces! Who's Lamb of God, you ask? They are the latest band to be branded the saviors of Heavy Metal, and possibly the only outfit to deservedly carry the torch that was set by the likes of Pantera, Machine Head and (to a lesser degree) Slayer. While I very much enjoy LoG and their bad ass sound, the truth is that I'm going down mainly to check out one of the opening bands named Gojira.

Gojira (Japanese name for Godzilla) could not be more aptly named. They are a heay-as-hell unit that play a very chunky, space-destruction kind of grind metal that sounds just too fucking good. They really fall into a category of their own, somewhere between technical-math-metal geniuses like Meshuggah, Mastodon and maybe even a touch of Gwar. They're heavy as hell, but not in the ear-splitting way. It's the kind of heavy that takes advantage of the bass and double-bass drums, rather than screeching guitars and feedback (not that there's anything wrong with that).

Should be an awesome show...

"People seem to enjoy things more when they know a lot of other people have been left out of the pleasure."

- Russell Baker

2007-03-17T16:32:00.000-03:00

I celebrate 6 YEARS with my girl Lisa today. We are at a bed-and-breakfast on the outskirts of town and for the next two days we will get to spend some much needed quality time. Six years is something pretty crazy. It seems like a lifetime ago that Lisa and I met at a shitty telemarketing office and fell in love with each other. I think it was love right away, no questions asked. We didn't really need to discuss it or think about it. I think we both knew that first day our lives were now interconnected forever. Some things are so complicated in this world, and some so simple. That's what I love best in Lisa. Our love is simple and instinctive, devoid of intricacies and complications.

We just really dig each other, even after all these years...

"Love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke."
- Lynda Barry

2007-03-14T19:26:00.000-03:00

So as you can tell by the Youtube link below, I went to see 300 at the IMAX theater yesterday with some friends. Now you don't hear me say this very often, but Frank Miller's 300 was very possibly the best film ever made in its genre, and that's assuming that we can classify it at all into an existing category. It was quite simply a fucking masterpiece. Breathtaking cinematography, innovative fight choreographers, great dialogue, low on fromage, and really well performed by the ultra-muscular/sexy cast. Who said violence can't be beautiful?

The joke is on me really; I often make fun of bad movies by saying that the story got a "Warner Brothers treatment", by which I mean to imply that its the lowest grade Hollywood drek (all glitz-no-content). I also often bitch about crappy directors and lament the fact that Tinseltown lets Pop music video directors near serious film scripts and sets. Well the joke is of course that Zack Snyder (director of The 300) has only one other film to his credit so far, and it is a remake of Romero's Dawn of the Dead, and the rest of his portfolio basically includes a bunch of lame music videos and NFL advertisement. I guess I'll have that warm cup of shutthefuckup now!

The big bonus with this flick of course is that it was filmed right here in Montreal, and the special effects were all churned out homegrown artists, which is desperately needed good news for the film industry in this town. The success of 300, and the fact that it is possibly the first step in a new era of filmmaking (along with Sky Captain and Sin City) really establishes Montreal as cool town to make quality films in, and that can only be a positive thing for movie nuts like myself. God knows, this place needs a firm kick in the nut sack with all the bullshit politics monopolizing the media.

Go see The 300 right now, or you'll be sorry...

"There are new words now that excuse everybody. Give me the good old days of heroes and villains. the people you can bravo or hiss. There was a truth to them that all the slick credulity of today cannot touch." - Bette Davis

2007-03-06T10:28:00.000-04:00

We are all tested throughout life at one point or another. Sometimes it's a clear-cut event, other times it just comes down to a series of coincidences and happenstance. Take for instance one of my best friends who had his bank account frauded just as he had finally set his finances in order. Or let's look at my unfortunate situation; I have been nailed to the couch/bed for about three days now because my back is out from a pinched nerve.

This unhappy turn of events came right on time to prevent me from getting a lot of personal work done. This past weekend I was supposed to sit down and sort things out for myself. Namely find a new job that is in some way related to my passion for storytelling and the visual medium, and get my own finances in order so that I can plan for another trip out to Europe this summer. Instead I've been staring at the ceiling, wallowing in pain from a never ending series of unexpected muscle spasms and nerve flashes. I was able to actually stand up only yesterday and do a little walking, but I'm still can't go back to work. When these things happen, a person is basically left with two choices; wither you curse the sky and stew away in self-pity, or you pull yourself up by the socks and decide that this is just another test that life has thrown in your path.

This is a test...

"We improve ourselves by victories over ourself. There must be contests, and you must win." - Edward Gibbon

2007-03-01T23:21:00.000-04:00

Leadership is a trait that many of us would like to be blessed with. It is a strange and complex attribute that many misunderstand and often just see it as an extension of authority or power. Leadership in reality does not stem from power or authority; it does not come packaged with a job or a vocation. Leadership is, in my mind, an instinct, a kind of natural ability to influence others that can be developed in a variety of ways.

The best kind of leadership is the type that inspires us strive for greatness within ourselves. The kind that makes us believe in something greater than ourselves and pushes us toward a collective benefit (I sound like a commie!). This type of leadership is developed by people who have faced their mistakes and learned from them. The types that gain experience with every moment lived, and ponder the perplexities of society with confidence. We admire these leaders the most because they do not pretend to be above failure or defeat, but instead face every challenge with such integrity and wisdom that every fall turns into a kind of victory.

An other brand of leadership is grounded in the subtle precepts of manipulation. It is a quiet discipline that involves observing everything around you and honing your senses as to become almost supernaturally aware of your surroundings. This kind of leadership requires telling people what they want to hear, or more precisely knowing what they want to hear, and making sure they are well supplied. It's a leadership that is enforced with veiled movements, reverse psychology and skilled verbal dexterity. Most often this type of leader will not actually be at the head of the pack, but can be found standing near the person "in charge".

There is a third kind of leadership, I think. The sort that is developed under fire or happenstance. The type that is thrust upon your shoulders at a moment's notice and doesn't come with an instruction booklet. Individuals marked with it are often reluctant to being handed power over other individuals. This leadership is an arduous type that puts people to the test and demands continual personal growth. It's a strange journey that teaches you the subtleties of behavior and opens your eyes to the ugly truths of human nature.

I think I'd fit my current tribulations as a manager into the third category...

"One of the hardest tasks of leadership is understanding that you are not what you are, but what you're perceived to be by others." - Edward L. Flom

2007-02-25T23:19:00.000-04:00

Social motivational forces are a fascinating subject for me. By this I mean to say that I have always been interested in what makes things, people mostly, do the things that they do. What are the motivating factors, the circumstances at play? It's an interesting question that often leads to funny, and sometimes ridiculous ends.

I was having a conversations with a male friend of mine the other day about what makes us (men) behave and function in the manner that we do. It occurred to me then and there that male behavior (at least in a general Judeo-Christian North-American context) is largely the result of a tradition that may well go back to the beginning of our species. Men, as I believe it, pursue and set out to accomplish a majority of tasks with the single-minded object of accomplishing one primal thing: impressing the females. That's right, from architecture to art, to technology and social dynamics, men have pretty much dedicated themselves to the everlasting quest to impress the opposite sex. It surely was not a conscious and deliberately set endeavor, I think. For a long time in our history (and even today in some parts of the world) women weren't respected or acknowledged as legitimate equals, and treated as little more than cattle or objects of financial or personal gratification. Yet history is full of examples of great women bringing entire empires to their knees with their beauty and intellect, and always there is that element of competition between the various men that surrounded them. The simple fact is that men are dreadfully predictable creatures to women, and think gentlemen, that we have proudly flaunted our Achilles Heels for generations, like the hairy idiots that we can be.

Why do we buy nice clothes? Why do we want to drive expensive cars? Why do we seek high-powered jobs, wealth and property? Why do we "erect" monuments? For sure there is ambition and competition between men alone, but I submit that it is to beguile women that we continue to do things in such grandiose and extravagant fashion.

Of course the pursuit of new intellectual and spiritual territories has been a great motivator to mankind as well, but I still think most of it is just further testament to men's timeless and embarrassingly simplistic devotion to "impressing the chicks". I often find myself wondering what the world would have looked like without this strange and somewhat pathetic genetic fixation.

I wonder indeed...

"Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition." - Timothy Leary

2007-02-10T17:52:00.000-04:00

Jason The Terrible on...
Pop Music

We all remember doing this at some point in our lives; sitting there in earshot of a sound system that was playing some god-awful top-40's tune, and wondering "What is this vomit, and who in their right mind voluntarily put down money to encourage it?" No? Okay, maybe it's just me then.

From as early as I can reckon, I have been overly sensitive to music in my surroundings. I might have my mother to thank for that, she always had something playing in the house when I was little, be it Bob Marley, Harry Belafonte, or (gasp) the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. The point is that music is always the first thing I pick up on when I enter an establishment or even when I'm strolling down the street. It's mostly subconscious at this point, but I think I also have an actual medical condition that makes me go crazy when I hear music that I consider particularly bad or annoying. That basically makes it next to impossible for me to go anywhere near downtown Montreal without having an acute allergic episode. There's nothing quite like the burning sensation I get when I spot some asshole rolling down St-Catherine St while blasting Sean Paul out of his baby-blue Cadillac Escalade. And trust me, Montreal is like the world's capital of assholes in SUVs that like to play bad music at debilitating volumes. Pop music is always the most excruciating to be subjected to in public areas, especially if you just sat down for a beer or coffee and found out that the owner of the place just simply can't get enough of the new Ashley Simpson record (blam! blam! blam!).

Anyway, so I feel very strongly about the music I listen to, and essentially consider Pop music to be another brimming example of good intentions going horribly wrong. At some point and time some happy dumbass probably thought to himself, "Hey, that song is really catchy! Why don't we broadcast it a few time a day so people can learn to sing it". Popular music in itself must have been conceived as a way to bring people together with sounds and rhythms that made them feel a little better. That stuff that gets the booty swinging, the head bobbing, and the fingers snapping. In the beginning there could not have been anything more sinister behind it, I think, but I could be naive.In the 50's and 60's (I'm skipping a lot, I know), guys like Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis changed things because they made Pop (and rock n' roll) so huge and chaotic that it began to clash with social etiquette and "proper" behavior. It seemed lewd immoral in at a time where North America (and the developed world in general) had pretty much reached the height of its social hypocrisy. We saw a transition from simple entertainment to social commentary, social identity. People that actively sought out music were no longer content to just get with it, you had to become part of a scene or movement (Squares, Greasers, etc). Somewhere along the line people got really busy defining these categories and divisions in music, and the quality of it started declining in tandem with this loss of focus.

Fast-forward to the late nineties, Britney Spears pokes her pigtailed peanut head out of the trailer park with the unforgettable single, Hit Me Baby One More Time, merging a simple beat, bizarre lyrics, and enough suggestive dance moves to permanently taint catholic school girl outfits for ever. We'd seen the likes of her before; the Debbie Gibsons, the Alanis Morissettes, The Samantha Foxes, but never with so little actual talent. This dark event dawned the arrival of the Third Great Pop Explosion, the first and second having been pretty much the work of the ingenious MJ (may he rest in peace). Not since Beatlemania and Elvis had there been such hysteria on the streets for acts like the Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls and their respective carbon copies. This new Pop music was different in one fundamental way from the kind Chuck Berry and James Brown dominated with in their time. It had all the glitz and glamor but not one ounce of fucking soul.

The Pop music that we have been subjected to is a little more than trite, paint-by-the-numbers hogwash that's really not designed to do anything but sell products and further pummel the general collective low-self-esteem of the masses. Why else would we be forced to listen to that shit on every single major radio station? Pop today is the great anthem of the happy consumer with no individual aspirations. It's the marching music of the jaded millions who believe that to find joy in their lackluster 9-5 routine, they have to go out every weekend and get coked up in some expensive club and vent their frustrations on the dance floor by gyrating and flapping their arms like imbeciles. Pop is the elevator music of the 21st century.

The good news is that Pop is pretty much dead and rotting, the bad news is that Hip Pop has taken its place, and so instead of hearing 16-year-old girls agonize about the perplexities of relationships, we are now treated to the musical stylings of cheap whores and cosmetically-enhanced instant celebrities. You want to experience everything that mediocrity has to offer? Look no further than the Black Eyed Peas.

Annnd I'm spent...

"I'm not sure I want popular opinion on my side -- I've noticed those with the most opinions often have the fewest facts." - Bethenia McKenstry

2007-01-31T22:03:00.000-04:00

Ok, here's a challenge for anyone out there that actually reads this blog. Lately I have noticed in me a certain excitement when it comes to offering my opinions on a controversial subject. So I'll leave the forum open to anyone. Just ask me about anything that interests you or about a topic that you would like to read my deliberations on. I'll give it some time, then I'll post my answer in a full B.E.G.M.L.-style rant, dedicated to your queries. It'll be like seeking wisdom from one of those gurus up on the mountain top, except without the actual wisdom and clarity.

Let's do it for fun...

"The true secret of giving advice is, after you have honestly given it, to be perfectly indifferent whether it is taken or not, and never persist in trying to set people right."
- Hannah Whitall Smith

2007-01-26T19:31:00.000-04:00

One post a week? What has this new job done to me?!

My brain is all over the place after yet another week of pandemonium. The gist of it is that bureaucracies suck monkey balls, and power corrupts the soul of men. Can someone tell me why the important jobs are in the hands of the biggest fuckwads in town? Me neither.

Moving on, I read an article this week about this highly educated Tunisian guy named Mohammed who has decided to have his name changed legally to Alex, because he can't seem to get a job with his given Islamic name. Needless to say that he is not the only one; city hall has received a barrage of requests from hundreds of Arabs asking for similar adjustments. How screwed up is that people?

The Arab in me feels like flipping Mohammed...pardon me...Alex a middle finger and call him a coward for renouncing his origins, but the practical, logical side of me understands perfectly where Mo is coming from. My own dear mother was faced with this same kind of discrimination when immigrating with me to Quebec 20+ years ago, and she showed up here with a Doctorate in American Literature and an English degree! It took her the better part of 15 years before she finally got her foot into the proverbial door, and only that after picking up another Bachelor's Degree in English. The fact is that like my mom, Mo was likely motivated much by the same things that my she was; namely feeding his family and getting some kind of respect in his chosen professional field (mathematics).

It's a sad world we live in, where a deceitful and decadent totalitarian Mediocracy like the USA can go around destroying the world for the gain of a handful of dirty bankers and power mongers, AND turn us into Arab-fearing bigots. What Mohammed may be doing is fucked up to his fellow Arabs, but it's a powerful example of the tainted legacy of ignorance and the media-twisted spirit of discrimination that has become the chief export of North-American culture.

I think I'll go have my name changed to Saddam Bin Laden next week...

"Every decent man is ashamed of the government he lives under."
- H. L. Mencken

2007-01-05T23:31:00.000-04:00

Granted, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but being "hot" is the province of the marketing department. There is no such thing as beautiful anymore when you really think about it, only a vague set of physical ideals that we have, mixed with delusions created by our burdened minds, compounded by the three billion images, symbols and sounds that advertisers use to skull-fuck us on a daily basis. No one has any idea what's beautiful these days; we don't even have a vague fucking conception of what it feels like, what it's all about. Our senses are overloaded by television, Internet, video games, legions of neon-lit talking billboards, you name it. We have become like Alex in A Clockwork Orange, all-but strapped to a chair, blasted by relentless quantities of information until our souls and minds become akin to the stuff that routinely leaks out of an old garbage can.

And here's the rub; unlike Alex, no one is keeping us in that chair, or forcing our eyes open with metal wires. We're actually submitting to this plague of personal degradation of our own will. No one makes us buy Nickleback Cd's or root for mental patients on televised talent shows. No one came into our homes with a gun and said "Buy brittle overpriced junk that you can't afford and don't need now!".

We have no one to blame but ourselves...

"Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves." - William Pitt

2007-01-02T19:31:00.000-04:00

Work, work, work, that's all I do. I used to joke about it but now it's true...

I'm going to try real hard and not talk about work because it will bore all parties involved, and because I'm focusing my mind to achieve a kind of mental disconnection from all things work-related once that clock strikes 5. So far I have been making progress, but I want to reach total "log-off" mode where I literally cannot access any work information or anecdote after the shift is over. I want to remain sane as long as possible. I do have to acknowledge one thing regarding work however; it's eating up a lot of time (I used to waste) that I had before I was promoted. It's true what they say, you have to lose something to truly appreciate it.

On the flip side of things, having a more challenging job has made me want to devote more energy and focus to my personal projects. I'm dying to actually get back to producing that mini-film I have been sitting on for months. I want to get back to training Capoeira, work on my business ideas with my partner Richard. It's like I have all these things in my hand, but now I don't know where to begin. I know, I know, one thing at a time, right? I suppose you're right.

Let's see if I can get that ball rolling again this week...

"The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else." - Umberto Eco

2006-12-28T02:50:00.000-04:00

Life is just plain funny sometimes. I mean here I am, a half-Hungarian, half-Egyptian guy living in Canada, and until today, I didn't realize how little exposure I had to my own culture(s) in my everyday life. It took a half-Irish, half-English Canadian girl to put me back in touch with my roots.

I was just minding my own business today, working hard at my 9-5 job when all of a sudden I get this text-message from my pal Ella (my favorite Celtic-Anglo-Saxon Canadian) that simply read "Hungarian party tonight at _______ street, come on down!". I was intrigued. I knew Ella had just met some Hungarian acrobat/musician guy named Sandor recently, so I figured to myself that there was a connection. Fast-forward two hours and all of sudden I walk into this house with Ella, and a group of people are sitting in the living room busting out some traditional Hungarian music. And I don't just mean folk music, I'm talking full-out traditional fiddle/bass/accordion tunes from the old country from where I was born. I almost broke down in tears in the doorway. When all of that was said and done, I hoped into a cab and headed home with a big smile on my face, only to realize a second later that I'm sitting...wait for it...in a cab with an Egyptian driver, playing traditional Arabic music in his car.

Sometimes life is just too weird man...

"There are two lasting bequests we can give our children. One is roots. The other is wings." - Hodding Carter Jr.

2006-12-18T22:08:00.000-04:00

I started my new job as Manager today and I'm still standing. Things went smoother than anticipated actually, not that I'm past all my tribulations just yet. It's kind of weird, things having changed so suddenly, going from a somewhat low-key position to Mr. Running-Things. I have to admit, the whole "being in charge" thing is pretty bizarre. I have avoided responsibility for as long as possible, not so much out of sloth or cowardice, but because I've been living with a kind of single-minded preconception about authority.

I have believed for a long time that power, no matter how small or negligible in the grand scheme of things, leads to inevitable corruption. It's not the authority itself I think, but what it does to people (or what people do with it). All too often things start out innocently enough, with a small promotion or raise in social stature, and pretty soon you get addicted to the fact that people look to you for answers, that they respond to your comments, pay attention, show special respect. Eventually you stop hearing the word 'no' as often as you should, too many smiles of approval, too many looks of worry from subordinates (what will you do if they upset you?). In no time you begin to become overconfident, and start your trip down the same path that led Eve to offer Adam a ripe one.

But then I made an important realization; the fall does not happen by itself. It's up to the person to rise above petty insecurities, lack of consideration for others and egoism. This is nothing but a test of character. There are plenty of people who have been put in the driver seat and done just fine, I just had to meet one face-to-face. Strangely enough, I have had such person sit right under my nose for two years, and never realized it, precisely because that individual was getting it right. His name is Richard, my former boss and one of my best friends in the universe. Thanks Rich, your character has been an inspiration to me, your leadership exemplary.

I can do this.
I can make it work.

"Leadership is based on inspiration, not domination; on cooperation, not intimidation."
- Peter Drucker

2006-12-15T09:12:00.000-04:00

Well, just when I thought I could get back into posting regularly, I get promoted to the managerial staff at work. They put me in charge of my entire department, and I'm freaking out a little over here. I've known for some time that the current Manager had decided to move on to greener pastures, but I never seriously imagined that I would take his place, let alone that they would want me for the job. It's not that I don't think I have the qualifications or the know-how to pull this off, it's just that I'm known as a bit of a corporate shit-disturber, and I never thought they'd take a chance on putting me in the driver seat. What will this all mean in the long run? Well it definitely means more hours, more stress, more headaches and a little more money, but it also means that my relationship with my co-workers is about to change in a drastic way.

I have good relationship with almost everyone in my office; they know that they can joke around with me and speak their minds. Now things are going to get a little weird, as they all of a sudden have to abide by my decisions and look to me for answers. As for the people who don't like me very much (aka the witch-woman), they're probably quaking in their boots thinking that I'll bring the axe down on them as soon as an opportunity presents itself. The truth is that I plan on playing things as straight as I can, and as long as I am shown respect I will not hesitate to return the favor in spades.

God help me, I have become a pencil-pushing company man...

"Be very circumspect in the choice of thy company. In the society of thine equals thou shalt enjoy more pleasure; in the society of thy superiors thou shalt find more profit. To be the best in the company is the way to grow worse. "

- Francis Quarles

2006-12-13T09:28:00.000-04:00

I did something weird yesterday. I sat down and of my own free will decided to watch the Da Vinci Code movie. Now that the Dan Brown fever has gone down, I figured I should give this story a once-over, if for no other reason than to enhance my ability to make fun of it. To my great surprise, I actually kind of liked it. The movie itself was a kind of a lame duck, I must admit, and the casting left much to be desired. I'll buy Tom Hanks as a marooned FedEx employee (Cast Away), as an astronaut (Apollo 13), and even as a Prohibition-era hitman (Road to Perdition), but asking me to believe him as an intellectual, a Harvard professor at that, sorry Tom. This story takes place mostly in France, so you can bet your ass Jean Reno was cast into some forgettable part, while Alfred Molina, Gandalf and a handful of other good-but-wasted supporting actors run around aimlessly.

The story, in case (like me) you enjoy the quiet comforts of a rock's underbelly, is based on a collection of conspiracy theories regrading the "truth" behind Jesus of Nazareth's life. The Church has supposedly been supressing the realities behind the existence of the most beloved son of Christendom, and killing millions over the ages to protect his shocking secret. Jesus was apparently married to Mary Magdalene, who bore him a child in secret (after his crucifixion). What's more is that Mary was supposedly the inheritor of Jesus' sect, and women were destined to play a much greater part in the history of Christianity. I won't bury you in the details, but it's all pretty fun stuff.

For the most part the Da Vinci Code doesn't do anything remarkably different from other historical conspiracies, but it does mess with some accepted truths or beliefs in the Christian world, and I just happened to be partial to stories that fuck with people's precious little certainties. Besides, Jesus being married and founding his own religion kind of rings truer to me than the version I had jackhammered into me over several years in catholic school. I'm not even going to speculate on who lied about what, and where; declaring that the Vatican lied and withheld information during the height of its supremacy is like writing a book called The Government: Are They Telling Us The Truth? Of course they lied, of course we'll never ever know the truth. That's why fiction is so much more powerful than truth, and why our culture celebrates bullshit with such reckless abandon.

"The shortest verse in the Bible is 'Jesus wept.' The only thing wrong with it is the past tense."

Randy K. Milholland

2006-12-07T17:57:00.000-04:00

Annnd I'm back after a few days of this-and-that. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this blog just yet, I have just been dealing with life a little more than usual this past week.

Early on my list was a bizarre back injury last Sunday, when I attempted to be a good son, and help my beloved mother drag out the winter tires from the g-rage. The worst part is that I didn't even hurt myself while lifting; I just bent over to pick something up and wham! I knew right away something funny had gone down. I was fine at first, but by Monday night I was doing the penguin shuffle, and groaning like a 85-year-old. They say you don't have anything if you don't have your health. I am putting my seal of agreement on that shit. I'm almost back to a 100% again, but it's been a motherfucker for a man with things overflowing on his to do list.

On the flip side of things I have been able to catch up on my Battlestar Gallactica episodes, and discover why I invoke racism in others around me. More on those topics next week. Meanwhile I'll be busy getting back in the saddle, and bringing poor kids a little happiness with the help of a few gentle souls at my back.

Get some rest people...

"In all affairs it's a healthy thing now and then to hang a question mark on the things you have long taken for granted."
- Bertrand Russell

2006-11-30T09:10:00.000-04:00

Have you ever hated someone you didn't actually know? I don't mean reactionary hate like "I hate Bush!" or "I hate war!". I mean someone that you've met or had to work with that you didn't know on a personal level, but that if given the opportunity, you would eat their eyes with tar tar sauce. They say that hate can only stem from misdirected self-loathing or that you have to care about someone to truly hate them; I think that's a load of crap. I believe that there exists a special brand of independent hate inside of us all, a pure white napalm-like firestorm reserved solely for a handful of people that exist, possibly, with the unique purpose of driving us crazy. You have met at least one of these people in your life; someone who seems built out of anti-you. People who's every gesture behavior and sound, set off in you a kind of cataclysmic chain of negative emotions. You lose the ability to think, to rationalize, and you develop a single-minded need to somehow erase these people from existence. You fantasize about making their heads implode with the sheer power of your mind

I hate you female co-worker-that-shall-remain-nameless...

"The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that's the essence of inhumanity. "

- George Benard Shaw

2006-11-28T15:16:00.000-04:00

More on of Bad Literature (part 2)

I'm sorry if I made it seem like Fantasy is currently the only festering cancer on the face of literature, that would be like laying all the blame for an underachieving hockey club on a waterboy with one leg. There are plenty of other serious offenders in the trash literature underworld. Here are some of the ones I hold in the lowest regard.

1. Romance Novels

Some call it "chick lit", others call it "adult relationship adventures", I call it "a good way to make sure that future generations of women continue to be deluded about their expected relationships with men". Granted, my version is a little long-winded, but I think it applies. Romance novels have the distinction of exclusively targeting the IQ of the female populace (and gay men!), but in the end we are all in danger from Romance books because they do not clearly declare their independence from real life; people are often fooled into thinking that they are reading about the actual dynamics of intimate relationships. Oddly, like Fantasy stories, these books often include exiled princes with chiseled features (and "wild black manes") as love interests for otherwise deeply-self-conscious and generally demented female protagonists.

2. New Religious Conspiracy Novels

Now that Leonardo DaVinci is successfully whipping up a vortex in his grave thanks to the Dan Browns of the world, nothing is hotter than a modern-day religious whodunit. Was Jesus married? Was Judas misunderstood? Was Mary part of the Mile-High Club? Did the Devil spawn the Bee Gees and Access Hollywood (I believe he did)? No conspiracy is too moronic to overlook. Follow the adventures of intrepid "academics" and victims of circumstance as they chase through dark alleys in Istanbul, and dodge poison darts in the catacombs of the Notre-Dame. Check your brain at the door.

3. Self-Help/Success Strategy Books

The irony behind this category of reading fodder is too beautiful to ignore. "Buy my book, and I'll show you how to be happy" is the classic success guru's mission statement. He naturally knows how to be happy because he's happy himself. This immaculate joy and contentment of course comes from the fact that tools like us are buying his 12-step manuals like little hot cakes (where does that idiotic simile come from anyway?). Ask yourself the following two questions; if this person actually had life figured out in some revolutionary way, what possible motivation could he have for sharing his secret? Question #2; why is he selling the book for money? Bonus question; how come every one of these books has line to effect of "results may vary", and "only you can truly make positive change happen"? Sounds like fine print to me, but then again what do I know, I'm not happy and successful like the five paid-actor-witnesses on the infomercial.

Here's a an actual self-help strategy; save your money by skipping the actual purchase and study of said books, and just accept now that all the insight into the mysteries of Life contained within these rags will not prevent you from sometimes feeling ugly, stupid and without purpose. You already know what's wrong with you, and you already know why. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, suck it up, and try making someone else happy for a change; that's when you'll discover true happiness. I accept PayPal, and all other major credit cards...

"Just the omission of Jane Austen's books alone would make a fairly good library out of a library that hadn't a book in it."
- Mark Twain

2006-11-27T09:15:00.000-04:00

There exists a plague over the world of literature, and it's not OJ's new book entitled "If I Did It". The industry refers to this classification of writing as "fantasy literature", and you have all felt its diseased touch at some point in your lives. Fantasy, while not an evil genre by itself, has gone on to become the new 21st century trash lit. The mediocrity has reached such epic proportions, that Daniel Steele fans now actually have a group to look down on. Despite all this, authors like Terry Goodkind and R.A. Salvatore continue to pump out lit pollution by the dozen, and thousands of would-be writers are fighting daily for the right to be the next J. R. R. Tolkien.

If you're one of these brave souls, here are couple of things you might want to take into consideration before sitting down and "creating" your "own" fantasy "world".

1. Leave Elves, Dwarves, Halflings and Dragons alone! This may come to you as a complete shock, but other cultures on Earth have mythological creatures too! That's right, you don't have to take turns sodomizing Celtic/Nordic mythology anymore, there are other sources to draw from.

2. Your protagonist cannot be an orphan, a special child, or a forgotten heir to the throne of the Great Kingdom. He cannot have a birthmark in the shape of a black star, golden eyes, or silver hair. He also can't be raised by a wizard or trained by a hermit that was once a great warrior. Can you make an effort and give your main character a good name? Enough of the Luke Skywalker/Aragorn facsimiles already, and try to avoid names that sound like obscure selections from your spice rack.

3. Your world cannot be called Fantastika, or Ringland and cannot end in -ia, -or, and -on. You also don't have to give us the last 7 million years of its invented background history. Oh, and for the love of all that's divine, don't bother inventing a new language for your race of squirrel people!

4. No more magical weapons of prophecy please. No Swords of Power, no Bracelets of Destiny, no bow of the Seven Moons. Give us a hero with some kind of an actually earned or practiced ability. If the item has to be magical, give it the property of imbuing your protagonist with an actually personality.

5. Speaking of magic, you might want to look up the definition of the word irksome. If you absolutely have to have magic in your book, please spell it correctly (spelling it "maaj'k" won't make it original), and keep your descriptions of it as brief as possible. By the way, magic stones, staffs and rings especially are a major no-no.

6. The bad guy cannot be an evil wizard, just fucking accept that now. He cannot live in a dark fortress or a "blighted land", and he cannot have a dark warrior sidekick. He shouldn't do monologues, cackle or appear to the hero in visions. He can't wear black robes, have glowing red eyes, or turn into black smoke. Please don't name him by randomly generating using the letters X, Y, Z, R, S.

7. The hero's companions cannot be: An all-knowing wizard, a mysterious elf, a surly dwarf, a mischievous halfling or pixie, a magnificent dragon or a talking pet. Sentient inanimate objects are banned as well.

8. Here are some plotliness you can cross out on your brainstorming session report.

- The Great War scenario (LotR)

- The Cataclysm scenario

- The Jesus scenario (hero dies, resurrects and saves the world)

- The Exiled Prince scenario

- The Chosen One scenario

I can probably think of a couple of more things to add to the not-to-do list, but I think I'll stop there before I end up ruling out everything. In the meantime, good luck to all of you that are going to try fantasy anyway, and woe to you, redundant repetitive derivative fantasy crapmongers. I'm on to you!

"Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others."

- Virginia Wolf

2006-11-23T09:04:00.000-04:00

PLEASE READ THIS!

"It has been observed that a pure democracy if it were practicable would be the most perfect government. Experience has proved that no position is more false than this. The ancient democracies in which the people themselves deliberated never possessed one good feature of government. Their very character was tyranny; their figure deformity."

- Alexander Hamilton

2006-11-22T09:23:00.000-04:00

If you ever feel like your brain is mush, and you find yourself staring into the void a little too often these days, take heart. The reason you're bored and jaded is simple; it's the worst motherfucking time of the year! Think about it. November sucks, and here's why.

1. Summer is really over, I mean really really over (so is Fall!). That's right, put away your damn jean jackets, your hoodies, your mini-skirts. Put on some gloves, a hat, and suck it up. This goes especially for Montrealers, who think being sexy will save them from acute bronchitis. Wake up!

2. Every one is sick. With the majority of us stuck in some dreary depressing freaking office, this is definitely a bad thing. You can bathe in anti-bacterial soap every day, wear latex gloves (kinky!), or an an environmental suit, it doesn't matter. Sooner or later, you'll get that funny tingle in your sinus/throat area, and than it's time for everyone's favorite Winter game show: Blow That Nose! Even if you're some kind of ubermench and manage to overcome the harsher cold symptoms in a matter of days, the constant exposure to super bugs on everything you touch will guarantee that your cold-aftermath stage will last you a whole 2 months!

3. Motherfucking Christmas. Before you try to tell me that Christmas is in December, I'm going to stop you right there, splash some water on your face and give you the smack your mama should have dealt you years ago. Chirstmas in no longer a holiday, it no longer has any sort of celebration (pagan or otherwise), it's not even an event. Santa season has all the meaning of a Future Shop Weekend Liquidation sale, and none of the actual savings. It also starts in October now, judging by the mall decorations. Hey, I have an idea; why don't we make Christmas an year-round party? People don't take their decorations and lights down until June anyway, and it just seems like a hassle lugging all that shit out and back again in August. We could just be annoying and badly dressed all year, and drive ourselves insane with meaningless jingles, get drunk every day, and hate on our family. Okay, maybe we're already there...

4. The weather (Part 2). Nothing like waking up in the morning to a choice between ice-sheet-covered pavements, 109% humidity levels combined with a bone-shattering -10, or sudden 18C heatwave that's guaranteed to only stay long enough to make you sweat to your socks, and then freeze like a Popsicle and kill you. Did I mention the sunlight, or rather the complete lack of it? Now I know why Norwegians burn churches and listen to black metal.

5. Check your movie/show listings, and try to tell me November does not suck. Go ahead, I'm waiting.

The upside to all of this is that it doesn't get much worse. December is present-frenzy, and even grumpy old men like to get into the gift-giving bonanza. January is resolution and even-more-severe drinking season, February is love month, and we get to enjoy people celebrating the occasion by finally putting their miserable relationships down, and after that it's just a couple of months until the sunlight comes back, and we can go back to freaking out about our weight and career goals.

I'm a cheery guy today!

"I hate mankind, for I think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am. "

- Joseph Baretti

2006-11-20T11:16:00.000-04:00

I rented some DVDs this weekend and was reunited with a program that I had forgotten about, a show that is in my opinion, above and beyond like 95% of anything on television past, present and future. It's called Creature Comforts , and the guy behind it is no other than Nick Park, the animation virtuoso that gave the world Wallace & Gromit, possibly the smartest and sweetest family entertainment ever.

The concept behind CC is simple but hilarious. He sends out his crew to interview random people on the street regarding a variety of topics like family, friends, habits, travel, etc., and then takes those recordings and reenacts the interviews using animated plasticine animals. The joke is that he'll ask people (as an example) how long they've been living in their neighborhood, and then animate a bunch of flies caught in a spider's web, talking about how they feel trapped by their surroundings. It's just all incredibly witty and intelligent, way beyond any children's programing or comedy animation out there.

I think Nick Park's creations blow me away on many levels. There are the insane amounts of details and nuances that he adds to every facial expression and character movement, that make me laugh and and want to applaud every sequence. The sharp-yet-simple humor he employs brings me back to simpler times, when not all comedy relied on cynicism and pushing the envelope. A time when we could make fun of things without offending or degrading people, and still bust a gut. Park has this gift for making you feel like a kid, and smart one at that.

This is not to say that his work is simplistic, far from it. His ideas are rife with humanity, compassion for the environment and the animal kingdom, as well as tributes to his vegetarian lifestyle, yet he never pushes his ideas on the viewer. He doesn't preach ever, nor does he resort to sneaky tactics to convey his opinions. He'll just put you into a funny situation, and let you sort out what you decide to sort out, if you decide to sort it out. That kind of smart and honest approach to art and entertainment is virtually non-existent in today's show biz machine, and I think people like Park should be held in the highest regard for their quality craftsmanship, and artistic ingenuity.

I know what my kids will be watching when they're growing up...

"When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable."

- Madelaine L'Engle

Hey Ya

2006-11-16T13:17:00.001-04:00

2006-11-15T09:02:00.000-04:00

I believe that Life tells you little jokes everyday. This morning for instance I could not for the love of God get my hair together in any sort of decent way. It was like some kind of epic battle over the bathroom sink, pomade, brush comb, and a whole lot of swearing. I just couldn't get that faux hawk thing happening no matter what I did, so I finally just combed everything to the side and surrendered. On the way to work, by some kind of strange coincidence I came across no fewer than 8 dudes (and one chick) with the exact hairstyle I was trying to create.

Of course that's not the best joke this morning. No, that would be the fact just I was starting to knock off some of that gloom that's been hanging over me, I come down with a fucking cold! That's right, I start to get my energy back and begin my way back to being healthy on the inside, and the outside falls apart. Sometimes you can't win. Regardless of the fact that I feel like dogshit right now, I will try to persevere, and come out of this with a little cheer. That's the weird and wonderful thing about being sick, is that when you come out the gutter, you feel like a million bucks.

I realize that none of this is terribly interesting but hey, even HBO is boring sometimes...

"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society. "

- Krishnamurti

2006-11-13T10:14:00.000-04:00

I've been experiencing a kind of depression as of late, and I'm kind of perplexed by it. I don't experience dark moods like most people I know, at least I don't think I do. I don't get angry at the world and shake my fists at its injustices anymore. I don't look in the mirror in the morning and think "man I suck". It doesn't involve self-loathing, self-pity or blaming anyone for my troubles; my black moments have become much more infuriating than that. I think too much, feel too much, and it's driving me mad. That's mainly the reason I haven't been posting that much as of late. I have to wade through this crap and find my way clear again.

Bare with me people...

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye. "

- Miss Piggy

2006-11-08T10:03:00.000-04:00

Apparently this is the future of portable (pocket) personal computers, the Samsung SPH-P9000 Now I'm not any sort of technophiles or anything, but this thing looks just plain fucking cool. I did a post about technology a while back, but I didn't really get a chance to deliberate so much on what's coming, as much as what's happened so far. The consensus of technological evolution seems to be "integrate, integrate, integrate!". It used to start with a groundbreaking invention, then fine-tuning (courtesy of the Japanese!), followed finally by the shrinking in size. Now it seems that everything is miniaturized right from conception. Size matters again, but in reverse. Integration has come in to add another dimension to it however, and it should be somewhat interesting to see where this is all going. Mp3 (4) players have become "media players", no longer content with simple audio. Now we need them to play videos and radio shows, and pretty soon, pull content straight off the Internet. With the visual component added to the mix, shrinking becomes problematic as no one wants to watch their 50Cent videos on a screen the size of their pinkie nail.

So on one side you have this movement to turn electronics into tiny portable devices that you can clip to your coat lapel, and on the other you have the all-in-one revolution that wants to put your cell phone, desktop computer, car keys, organizer, Internet browser and media center into the palm of your hand. Then there's the "flat movement", with bestsellers like the RAZR, SLVR, KRZR phones (someone should tell Motorola that blatant misuse of English grammar stopped being cool ten years ago!), and the trend seems to be on the rise. I'm not sure what people find attractive about a millimeter-wide phone that's twice as wide as a normal one. I should talk I guess.

Some "experts" have suggested that small electronics are starting to fuse with everyday clothing, and already we've seen the first wave of 800$ snowboard jackets with integrated solar panels and earphones that run through the seams (special iPod pocket too). I don't think wearable computers will work out though for the simple reason that you're average North American is about as hygiene-conscious as a Victorian coal miner. Should give the name Blackberry a whole new meaning!

I guess the question is this; how integrated do we want get anyway? It's all nice having all these toys in match box-sized doohickie, but where does it end? The next step is computers integrated into the skin, and that's just plain freaky. A little too Asimov/Brave New World/1984 for my tastes...

"The future is here. It's just not widely distributed yet. "

- William Gibson

2006-11-01T10:58:00.000-04:00

Why Watching Television Makes Baby Seals Cry (part 3)

So our hypothetical couch potato is still alive after a barrage of Soaps, bad commercials, inane variety shows that guest star Jan Arden or Wil Sasso (every week!). He even survives Oprah and Dr. Phil, which is a titanic feat in itself. Speaking of the O-to-the-DrP, why do Oprah and Phil McGraw remind me of the Oracle and the Architect from the Matrix movies? I love their formulas by the way, they basically surround themselves by uneducated, emotionally stunted trailer park scum, and dazzle them with multi-syllabic words, and rhetoric. In Oprah's case, she alternates between campaigning for sainthood by throwing parties for blind Somali children, and pimping out her couch to any washed-up celebrity that wants to make a comeback by bearing their souls to the world. At least Dr Phil has the good sense to sell his snake oil therapy exclusively to spiritually disenfranchised rednecks.

Okay, so the 6 o'clock news has come and gone, and now our TV fiend settles in for an evening of quality programming. That's when he's blindsided by the most worthless kind of shows in existence: celebrity news! That's right, now that we have been updated about the body count in Iraq, and our government's latest blunders, we get the really important news. Is Britney's baby a cyborg? What's Brad having for breakfast these days? Are Tara Reid's freakishly botched tits and abs going to be okay? Nothing but cutting-edge information here boys and girls. And if you thought Access Hollywood was bad, just stay tuned for the abridged poor man's Canadian version.

Now its Talent Show time! That's right, we can now sit back and prepare to have our self-esteem boosted, as we stuff your faces with Ketchup Crispers while laughing at wannabe stars. "Look at the fat girl trying to dance!" "What's the deal with his hair?" "Oh my gawd, what a loser!" Yeah, we're all a bunch of success stories for those 45 minutes, Monday to Friday. So call in right now, and press 1-1-3 to vote for Maria, press 3-0-9 to vote for Ken, or 9-1-1 if you're finally ready for the straitjacket!

Our couch potato is all tuckered out by 9pm, and the Crispers are giving him heartburn. His head hurts from the caffeine, his brain is akin to toothpaste from sensory overload, and he has to be up for work early tomorrow. He reaches for the remote, sliding his thumb slowly toward the Power button, but suddenly the screen fades to black, and a familiar voice begins to speak its incantation.

"In the Criminal Justice System the people are represented by two separate, yet equally important groups: the police, who investigate crime and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories."

That's the best scenario. In the worst one couch potato is hit with a scenic Miami cityscape and steamy Afro-Cuban music, then he gets whisked away to some fantasy nightclub filled with sweaty Victoria Secret models, and a looming grizzly double-murder. Our couch potato drops the remote and lets himself be drawn into another glossy episode of CSI, giving him the remaining dose of violence, sex and bad dialogue necessary to completely lobotomize him. He finally drifts off on the couch to the enchanting theme of the Sexcite, or Demenagement La Capitale ads, which give new meaning to "heavy-rotation".

Good night Couch Potato...

Sleep Tight...

Hope your grey matter doesn't leak out onto your pillow and drown you...

"Television enables you to be entertained in your home by people you wouldn't have in your home. "

- David Frost

"Television has done much for psychiatry by spreading information about it, as well as contributing to the need for it."

- Alfred Hitchcock

"Television is the first truly democratic culture - the first culture available to everybody and entirely governed by what the people want. The most terrifying thing is what people do want. "

- Clive Barnes

2006-10-31T09:05:00.000-04:00

Why Television is Bad for You (part 2)

So commercials are dangerously bad, we have acknowledged this. I could go on of course, about how they rarely advertise an actual product, and instead simply aim for subconscious brand-name implantation. I could touch on the complex system of lies, deception and double-speak that businessmen affectionately refer to as 'marketing'. I could talk about how clever little ploys like the "yours for just 9.99$", "for three easy installments of 29,99$", and my personal favorite "save 80% off now!" have actually convinced people that they aren't getting imperially screwed. But I won't do that, because I have bigger hormone-boosted fish to fry.

Daytime TV

Ah, Daytime TV, the very best example of the very worst kind of television programming. Again, where does one start? If you're tuning in right after rolling out of bed, then you're first exposure to the tube will come in the form of morning shows, which aren't so much shows as they are bland variety programs, interrupted by weather and stock market reports every five minutes. I don't know what I hate more about morning shows, the two smiling idiots with the coffee cups, exchanging bad jokes and pretending to like eachother, or the supposedly-wacky weatherman/correspondent, that tours the country in a pink Winnebago, inciting the entire populations of buck-fuck-nowhere towns to gather at 5am, and scream like lunatics.

The true evil of Daytime doesn't kick in until about 11-12pm, with the all-encompassing soap opera Armageddon. From noon until 3pm, get ready for weak-ass plotlines, embarrassingly bad production, acting so putrid that it can peal wallpaper, and enough make-up and ghastly interior decorating to even scare a delegation of drag queens.

If you've got cable, then you're in for a special treat. You have your choice of Court TV, where only the finest grade of street trash get to square off over spilt milk, while some lunatic "judge" starts monologuing like Samuel L. Jackson. At commercial time you're treated to an exclusive barrage of eerie Pfizer-sponsored prescription drug advertisements, for conditions that you didn't even know were conditions. What's a little side-effect nasal bleeding ,when you can get rid of the waxy build-up in your ears, or vanquish the debilitating effects of ingrown toenails?

I almost left out Talk Shows and Reality TV, but then again the unadulterated stupidity of those kinds of programs kind of speaks for itself.

All Hail the Lowest-Common Denominator!

to be concluded...

"The reward for conformity it that everyone likes you, except yourself"

- Rita Mae Brown

2006-10-30T09:42:00.000-04:00

One of the benefits of never watching television is that your brain is capable of maintaining some kind of an audio-visual independence; your life basically doesn't start with Canada AM, and end with CSI:Wherever. There are a hundred other arguments for keeping your boob tube time in the negative, but I'm starting to realize that are also a number of disadvantages to this kind of lifestyle. I'm experiencing a certain kind of disconnection from society, as the years go by. I'm finding that I have fewer and fewer things in common with the average individual, or a the very least, discussion topics are more difficult to find, because I don't know who got cut from Tunisian Idol last night.

Television has been around for just over half-a-century, but I can safely say that its had its most significant impact on the last generation. In our lifetime we have experienced television's shift from entertainment device, to the an opinion and lifestyle dispenser. Nearly every facet of our social life is somehow connected to television. Then there's the Internet, but that's a can of worms on its own. As a person who watches very little television, my perceptions of it are somewhat particular (mind-boggling is more like it!). If you turn it on once a month for example, the first thing that becomes terribly obvious is just how incredibly insane and stupid televising has become. I know, this isn't new to anybody, but I think we really need to acknowledge just how bad things have become.

Commercials

Where to begin? When people say TV is stupid, they're mostly thinking of commercials. This is not entirely due to the mediocre content of the average 30 second ad, but mainly because commercials make up something like 65% of the programming we actually watch. Here are some of my pet peeves with the advertisement industry.

1. The constant and unabashed ridicule of men (and women), and personal relationships. Why it that the only normal-looking men in ads are the gay Vidal Sassoon guys? Every other spot features a balding, out-of-shape dork (somehow married to a blonde underwear model!), who's either fondling his SUV, or wrestling another dork at Best Buy over the new DVD releases. What's the freakin' deal with that?

2. Beauty product ads. Has anyone else noticed the fact that the celebrities in those L'Oreal ads never make any kind of damn sense? "Experience the Beauty of Real!", "A Blonde that's Magical", "Radiant and Prismatic!". I teach ESL twice a week, and I've been speaking English for about 15 years, I even read science-fiction and poetry, but I still couldn't tell you what the hell these flakes are talking about. Prismatic? What?

3. Car commercials. The next time someone asks you to define the word 'irony', just turn on the tube and wait for one of these ads. Nothing quite like a gas-guzzling, traffic-hindering, pedestrian-menacing Sports Utility Vehicle, alluringly speeding along a moist winding road, in the middle of what looks like a natural reserve for endangered species! Has anyone else noticed how these adds contain more and more CGI? I'll give you one chance to figure out why, and it doesn't have to do with on-location-shooting costs.

Then there's the other variety, with the metrosexual guy driving his coupe at warp speeds (in flip flops!), while a Keifer Sutherland carries on like the movie trailer guy, and we're treated to a series of whip-cracking noises, steel-welding sparks, and horse neying (or wildcat growls). Oh, the car jingles aren't bad either. Like a raaawk!

to be continued...

"Seeing a murder on television... can help work off one's antagonisms. And if you haven't any antagonisms, the commercials will give you some. "

- Alfred Hitchcock

2006-10-24T10:01:00.000-03:00

Goodbye iPod it was your time to go

Ba-dum, Ba-dum

I tried you out and your features blow

Ba-dum, Ba-dum

I brought you back and I really must say

You suck, you suck, you suck

And so my year-long saga to find a suitable portable media player comes to an end, three mp3 players, 5 trips and a handful of berated retail employees later. I have finally done the smart thing, and settled for excellence and quality, over flash, flair and kewl-factor. It's called a Creative Zen Vision M, and it's got 30GB of storage, 16 hours of audio playback, 4 full hours of video, photo album, FM radio, voice recorder, TV-out, calendar, alarm/organizer, and an EQ set list that would put a car stereo to shame. All of these goodies nicely wrapped in a sleek palm-sized black and white device, with a whopping quarter-million colors for yo mama!

I'm making a way too big deal about this...

In other (real) news, the hostilities back in my homeland of Hungary are at an all-time high. I have already spoken at great lengths about the ongoing situation there, but it would seem that now things have gone completely nuts. It doesn't help that this whole political corruption debacle reared its head right on time for the 50th anniversary of the infamous '56 Revolution, which means...well it means a whole frickin' lot! I talked to my cousin this morning (he lives an hour from the capital), and he says that there are already 150 wounded, millions of dollars of collateral damage, and the riot police has brought out the tear gas and rubber bullets. It's a sordid state of affairs.

On a lighter note, I also read about a group of guys that sneaked into a Soviet war memorial, and somehow managed to fuel and steal a vintage USSR tank. They apparently drove it downtown, much to the enjoyment and approval of the protesters. It's good to see that there's still a sentiment of humor in all of this, despite the otherwise grim outlook on the current status quo.

All I can do is sit back and watch it all, and sometimes it drives me crazy...

"Democracy substitutes election by the incompetent many for appointment by the corrupt few."

- George Bernard Shaw

2006-10-23T10:42:00.000-03:00

I got kidnapped Saturday, by my own dear friends. Of course most of you already know this, because you were all in on it...you conniving bastards.

I get an email from my buddy Kurt last Friday, and he's like "Hey man, I'm taking you out for lunch tomorrow, I'll pick you up noon-ish...". Saturday comes along, and he shows up with a car full of people I know. My girlfriend comes outside with a backpack and gets in, trying her best not to grin, but by that point I could feel something fishy was going on. We take off around 1PM, and I don't know it yet, but I'm not going to see home until Sunday night. About 45 minutes into the drive, I start wondering what the hell is going on. We had left the GMA, and shot past the West Island. Houses began to disappear, and pretty soon I was counting grains silo's and abandoned tractor trailers. I started getting a little anxious by then, asking repeatedly where in the 7 Hells I was being taken to for this supposed lunch. Much to my chagrin, everyone in the car just kept grinning and looking at me like I had something on my face.

Being the kind of person who likes to know (control freak much?) where he's going and why at all times, impromptu journeys into the unknown not only make me anxious, the drive me straight up nuts! I realize that all work and no fun makes Jason a dull boy, but this was getting ridiculous. By the time we left the limits of Quebec, and glided into Ontario, I was positively chomping at the bit like a caged animal. When we passed Brockville, I decided that I needed some kind of hint, otherwise I'd jump from the car and get the cops to help me. Then I remembered; these were my friends (and girlfriend of 5.5 years), and they were doing this to make me happy...somehow. On our 3rd or 4th rest stop, I finally managed to confirm our destination. These sneaky bastards were taking me to Toronto.

Okay, so now I knew that I was in for a longer drive than expected (by about 5 hours!!!), but I still could not figure out what the hell was waiting for me in the big T. As it turns out, my buddy Kurt had remembered a conversation with me like 3 years ago, when I had mentioned that I wanted to check out Medieval Times, after seeing it in Jim Carrey's Cable Guy (my fave Carrey flick). Well wouldn't you know it, the dirty bastard made it happen! When I got out of the car, I was promptly blindfolded, and led into the night, and when they pulled it off of my face, I was standing in front of THE Medieval Times. I was dumbfounded.

The experience was simply amazing. We were seated and fed a medieval-style meal (no utensils), drank beer, and howled like banshees, as our knight (every section had their own champion to cheer for), the Warrior-Priest in black and white, proceeded to destroy all challengers, and win the tournament! I turned into a 12-tear-old that night, paper crown on my head, banners waving in the air, while I periodically stuffed chicken and garlic bread in my face. It was simply amazing. Later we were received by Aliza's family, who were gracious enough to feed us (again!) and put us up for the night, and Sunday afternoon we headed back home, tired, happy, and relaxed.

My friends rule...

"Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods. "

- Aristotle

2006-10-20T11:39:00.000-03:00

I think we tend to forget sometimes, just how much technology has evolved in the last 20 years. Historians will argue that it has always been this way, but I submit that in no other period has society made so many significant technological changes, since perhaps the Industrial Revolution. I'm talking about the kind of technology that directly affects our lifestyles; the way we go through our daily routines. It's amazing to me because I'm not yet 30, but I already have enough stories to sound like an old man. Just think about it, cable television, wireless tech, fiber-optics, microchips, personal computers, laptops, gaming consoles, pocket PCs, CD, laser disc, mini-disc, mp3s, infrared, Bluetooth, the Internet, WiFi, VoIP, mobile phones, LCD, oled, plasma tech, to name a few. We've seen countless breakthroughs in medicine, transportation, work tools, and in almost every other facet of social life.

Inflation is another way to understand how our society has been changing at faster pace. There's the old cliche of the elderly man piping up at the dinner table when the price of something is mentioned, and stating, "In my day, a loaf of bread cost 10 cents!". I find this particularly indicative of how prices have exploded in just a few years, when I am able to recall paying 45 cents to get on the bus 12 years ago (now we pay 2.50$!).

Then there's things like bottled water, which we take for granted, but we used to joke about in the 80's (coming soon, bottled air!). Music has also changed in a big way, with electronic music basically having dominated the planet. Even established genres like rock and rap have become electronic, or digital. Rare is the sound or visual that hasn't been digitized or edited. Let's not forget the Photoshop revolution, the technological phenomenon that has single-handedly destroyed our perceptions of reality, and elevated superficiality to an all new level.

There are of course a million other innovations and changes to point out, but I don't want to deliberate on technology, so much as I wanted to stop for a moment and realize just how much has changed in the past couple of decades...

"For a list of all the ways technology has failed to improve the quality of life, please press three. "

- Ali Kahn

2006-10-19T09:00:00.000-03:00

This inscription was found displayed on a wall in downtown Budapest some time ago. I will do my utmost to translate it with accuracy.

Hey Gypsy, I hate your guts, that's what I think of you!

It's not your skin-color I hate, it's your way of life!

Our jails are overflowing with your kind

You steal my hard-earned money

You hurt me, you hurt my kids, you molest my wife!

You smell bad because you don't wash

If I dare to say these things publicly, you'll point their fingers

and call me a racist on the TV!

It's not what you were born that I hate, It's what you've become!

If you sit next to me on the train, I feel fear and disgust

You don't know how to behave in public, otherwise you would have a job!

How come you know your rights, but can't even write down your name?

We always extend a helping hand to you, and all you do is abuse

our generosity!

You don't want to be anything more than a Gypsy

You only get to call yourself a Roma if you make

something of yourself!

Some of your kind have achieved this, overcome their mediocrity

I recognize them as true Roma, I work with them, they have my respect.

But not you, I have no respect for you

Go away!

I have often compared some North-Americans' romantic view of gypsies in Europe, to Europeans' romantic view of our Native-Americans. By sheer token of of the distance between continents, certain fictional stereotypes develop about such-and-such peoples, and their "magical" cultures. I think a letter like the one above has, if anything, a brutally sobering effect on such illusions. The simple fact is, Europeans, eastern and central ones in particular, do not like gypsies. I would go as far as to say that they despise them. Whether gypsies deserve this kind of contempt, I cannot say. But I thought I'd post this just to open a few eyes and ears.

"I know that there are people who do not love their fellow man, and I hate people like that! "

- Tom Leher

2006-10-17T09:01:00.000-03:00

Why IPODs Suck

by Jason

Like most typical little consumer bees, I got the mp3 player sting two-three years ago, and started lusting after these magical new devices that could store up to several albums on a gadget the size of my palm. For those of us that made the switch, the transition wasn't that easy from Cd player to flash or hardrive player. We missed our Cd's at first, and found ourselves a little distracted by the mp3 player itself, but gradually we managed to get with the new program. Then the mp3 player manufacturer race began, much like the frightening Arms Race of the 1980's. Contrary to what many believe, it was companies like Creative (of PC soundcard fame) and iRiver (established in 1999) that opened the gates with the first "hardrive" media players. Toshiba, Sony and Sanyo and the like would come out to play in time, but no company would be able to anticipate the arrival of Apple's now-legendary iPod revolution.

iPod was born out of a Apple's new philosophy of marketing, the same philosophy that allowed them to climb back up from the brink of extinction in the 1990's. iPod was in many ways the fruit of the iMac fad; this new glossy, hermetic, minimalist approach to packaging and software design. This was in many ways Apple's revenge on Microsoft (and Big Willie Gates) for all but copying and stealing their operating system in the 80's. The key factor in the "Apple Way" is, I must admit, a strikingly brilliant one. A strategy that shows that Apple has studied social trends and deciphered the collective psyche of the great unwashed masses.

The strategy is simple. It's reverse thinking. It says, don't spend so much time on the internal as on the external. The important thing is packaging, pretty colors, fashion, vanity. Apple set out not only to create a new type of computer/media player, they achieved the ultimate in consumer marketing; they have managed to transform their products into status-symbols. With Apple you're no longer just a user, you're part of an elite club. I have to admire the way they have been able to make Apple owners feel special, cutting-edge, and even sexy. You have to hand it to them. I mean this is a company that has brought forward virtually no technical innovations in the last 10 years, and yet the average person still believes Apple to be the very best in state of the art. It's well documented in fact, that Apple has often times simply allowed other companies to develop the new hardware, waited a year, and integrated it into their systems, while launching massive advertisement campaigns that actually convinced people that Apple was the one making the breakthroughs. Like I said, brilliant.

So where does this leave the iPod (as it is our main focus) in terms of quality? Well, after having resisted buying one for many years, and having fiddled with some competitors in the meantime, I can safely say that the iPOd may in the end, become the chink in Apple's armor. I did in fact end up buying a 5th Generation Video iPod in a moment of weakness, but I'm returning the thing at the earliest opportunity and getting me something else. The reasons are numerous, but I will keep it to the main points.

- It is bridle, delicate, and purposefully built to scratch, crack or break.

- The famed iPod interface is nothing short of an infuriating mess. Don't believe the hype

- The only controls on the damn thing are play/pause/forward/backward/menu, which means deleting content is either impossible directly, or requires three days of fiddling around.

- The sound quality is in all honesty, quite poor. Again, don't believe the hype.

- Woe to you PC user, for the Devil sends his iPod with wrath, cause he knows the time is short

(Translation: iTunes is the arguably the worst software ever created since Explorer. Good luck withanything other than a posh Apple computer)

- The battery is built in, and, according to hundreds of online reports, destined to fail within a year (there are exceptions). Even Apple's website has a disclaimer to that effect. If it craps out, Apple won't even replace it, they'll send you a new one, which kind of speaks volumes.

I could go on like this for a while and mention things like the laughable battery life, freezing videos, and iPod's contempt for any file format that wasn't beget by its masters, but that would be slandering. Suffice to say that this consumer whore is returning his, and never buying another Apple product as long as it humanly possible.

Wow, this whole post came out like a Cnet review...

"Junk is the ultimate merchandise. The junk merchant does not sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to the product. He does not improve and simplify his merchandise, he degrades and simplifies the client. "

- William S. Borroughs

2006-10-16T13:05:00.000-03:00

What a weekend...

I participated in an incredibly unique event this past Sat/Sun. By way of a referral, I ended up being recruited to attend a 2-day conference conducted by the illustrious Conseil Superieur de la Langue Francaise. The idea was basically to put together a panel of young professionals and educators from around the Montreal area, and discuss at great length the various issues relating to, you guessed it...the French language in Quebec. It was an eye-opening experience, any way you look at it. We covered a wide range of issues, from geo-political, to socio-political, to history. We talked at great length about our personal experiences, our perceptions of Quebec medias, and inter-personal relations. Immigration was obviously bought into the mix, which kind of put me on the spot as I was the ONLY one in attendance. Oh, I almost forgot the other gravely undermanned paradigm; the Anglophones were also represented by a single participant.

Despite this peculiarly biased sampling (6 French Canadians, 1 Anglo, 1 "Neo-Quebecois") of individuals, I'm happy to report that I was among sensible, intelligent and educated people. I even made sure to share my admiration and appreciation of the levels of sophistication that I was being exposed to. Every opinion or observation, voiced by the various members of the panel carried importance, insight, and the kind of genuine maturity that stems from education. Every participant was smart, introspective, well-spoken. I was almost intimidated; as if someone had visited a University campus, and plucked out only the sharpens pencils in the box.

This is of course not to say that I agreed with everything that went on at the meet. I was however given more than ample opportunity to express my point of view, and no efforts were made by the organizers to stifle us, or obstruct any potential conflict. We were, after all, debating sensitive subjects, and often I got the sense that people wanted say more than they allowed themselves to; I know I did. Amazingly, everyone seemingly made a subconscious pact to withdraw their political inclinations from the proceedings, to promote intelligent debate, and a continuous focus on the topics at hand. Like I said, I was in there with a bunch of heads, not reactionary simpletons. If I had to offer a synthesis of what was discussed, or what ideas were developed, I'd probably want to do another 5 posts about this meeting. I'd like to spare you guys that so I'll stick with the essentials.

Among the consensuses reached, we were able to establish the presence of a collective paranoia/sensitivity that exists within the French population in Quebec, especially with regards to Anglophones, and the English language. We were able to identify the factors at play behind these irrational fears, and found them to be most often founded in history (the fear of being colonized by the British), as well as a perceived difficulty in French Canadians to establish a clear cultural identity to call their own. Language, it seems, has somehow been put at the nexus of French Canadian identity, and there appears to exist a very real notion of it being threatened by extinction. The numbers of course say otherwise. While immigration (in MTL) is at an all-time high, French is being spoken by more people, and with a higher level of accuracy than ever before. French scholars are beginning to see the light, and realizing the need for a strengthening of other cultural facets of Quebec society (other than French itself), instead of simply perpetuating tired policies of isolation and acute xenophobia.

There is of course a lot of road to cover, and we're nowhere near any kind of breakthrough with better Anglo-Franco-Immigrant relations, but there is a clear willingness on the part of the Council to explore new territory. They have an agenda, that is certain, but it seems to be one founded (for the most part) in compromise and progress.

In the end, I left the conference feeling positive about French Quebec, and greatly enriched. I can only hope that the panels in Rimouski and Quebec City were half as fruitful and enlightening. One can always hope. There exists nevertheless a major rift between Anglos and Francophones in Quebec (and Canada), and before anyone can begin to tackle immigration issues effectively, I believe that rift must somehow be overcome. Operational definitions have to be re-assigned, certain terminologies depolarized, or stripped of their historical bias. The official settlers of this nation have to sit down (maybe invite a Native American representative or three), and work out some very dated differences.

More on this some other time...

"Those that fall in love with themselves will have no rivals. "

- Benjamin Franklin

2006-10-13T15:48:00.000-03:00

War!
Our government is fucked
Sure to bring us down
The media is psyched, civil unrest
Hate that can bring you down
War! I don't want your war!
War! We don't need your war!
WE DON'T NEED YOUR WAR!
War!
Military fiends, starving countries
Drama brings you to your knees
Spill your back, this ain't humanity
Dying for the food we feed
War! I don't want your war!
War! We don't need your war!
WE DON'T NEED YOUR WAR!
War!

- Slayer ft. Ice T

Every once in a while, a person can't help but feel a little apocalyptic. With the present state of the world (or at least our present level of awareness of the cancers that are rapidly gnawing away at the fabric of our society), it's nearly impossible for a person not to go through some kind of social depression. The staggering number of things that are "wrong" with the world is outdone only by the depth of this corruption, and its complexity. Tangled threads, needle in the haystack, and that kind of imagery comes to mind. Where to start? How to start? Who should start it? These questions are part of the problem, and act like the guns in the hostage takers' hands.

We live in a rotten house, wrought with disease and instability. No one remembers what's in the attic, and no one will go down into the basement anymore. We've just stacked everything together, stifling our daily lives with material crap. The windows are stained and dirty; we can't see what's what anymore. The foundations are cracked, the roof is leaking, and everyone can smell the stink in the house, but no one can seem to pinpoint the source. The smell of course is our own neglect and ignorance. It's our complacency, our sloth and apathy to the pain signals we no longer have the receptors to intercept. Make no mistake, humanity has a predator. We can catch a glimpse of it everytime we gaze at a reflective surface.

It's like most of us have reverted back to our reptilian predecessors; lumbering simpletons, devastating our environment with our girth while our oppressors close in for the kill. We're the great Clan of the Brontosaurus, chomping on our leaves like happy idiots, while the T-Rex rends out flanks apart. How long, I wonder, before we realize that we're already halfway eaten?

The cure, if we can call it that, may be worse than the disease. We all know what to do with a rotten house; you pull the whole thing down, and rip it apart at the seems. You smash it into a million pieces, pull up the foundations, pulp it and burn it down into white ash, and curse the time you wasted patching it up in the first place. So, to truly live again, must we first die as a race? How else can we undo our preconceptions, and let go of our arrogance? Is it even possible to start from scratch, to sort through this mess ? To sort and classify, to categorize and re-prioritize? Would anything less than a total systematic deconstruction make a lasting difference?
We built this house with atrocities and good intentions, but we now require the courage to admit to one simple, terrifying reality:

We have to bring it all down...

"So it is with minds. Unless you keep them busy with some definite subject that will bridle and control them, that they throw themselves in disorder hither and yon in the vague field of imagination... And there is no mad or idle fancy that they do not bring forth in the agitation."
- Michel De Montaigne

2006-10-12T09:19:00.000-03:00

Ladies and Gentleman, I'm proud to announce behindeverygreatmanlies post # 202!!! You're probably wondering why I didn't make a big deal about #200, well that's because I wanted to be original.

I'm lying...

I just realized I blew #200 the other day and didn't notice...

I can't believe this blog has lasted for just over a year now. It's been a blast so far. I can't seem to run out of things to blab about, and this whole experience has been quite frankly therapeutic. But enough about anniversaries already, I want to talk about the single most amazing event in my life this year (apart from my trip to Hungary last month). I'm talking about mothafuckin' Iron Maiden! Holy Mother of Creation, the show Tuesday was out of control! I can't stop using exclamation points! In all seriousness people, say what you will about aging rock stars and bands that need to pack it up (Rolling Stones, Alice Cooper, I'm looking at you!), but the blokes from Maiden are absolutely exempt from such criticism. No, not just because they are my favorite old-school metal band along with Sabbath, but due to one crucial factor: Iron Maiden still fucking has what it takes.

They haven't slowed down, they don't sound like crap, they're in great shape, and their live shows are still above and beyond 95% of anything out there right now. Younger bands should be taking notes, and paying attention, instead of just wearing Maiden shirts and citing them as an influence. I'm referring in particular to the weak-ass opening act known as Bullet for My Whatever. I'm sure they're a great bunch of guys, but for chrissakes, they should ask Kerry King or Iommi to put a couple of catchy riffs together for them. This goes out to all you tight-jean-cut-sleeve-converse-bullet-belt-revivalist-neo metal kids like Trivium and BfmV. Banging out Kill 'Em All-era Metallica riffs and mic-ing your drums to sound like a helicopter machine guns does not constitute Metal! It actually also involves writing songs that people can tell apart, and that don't all feature "sensitive" vocals interspersed with wannabe Morbid Angel banshee wails. This is a rant for another time.

Iron Maiden are not only still doing things right, they're doing things well, but their doing things smart. They just put out a new album called A Matter of Life and Death, and they made sure to run the Montreal crowd through the new material before indulging us with the classics. I thought this was a good move on their part; there's no point in putting out new material if you're just going to turn into a self-tribute band. I'm happy to report that the new stuff is premium quality, unlike their misguided last effort. Once the new material was done, Maiden wisely broke into Fear of the Dark, Hallowed be Thy Name, and one of my all-time faves, The Evil That Men Do. They also delighted die-hard fans with classic Iron Maiden stage decor (WWI-era trenches!), and made sure to give us a healthy dose of Eddie or two. All things considered, a night to remember.

What a birthday present.

Which reminds me, all my love goes out to Amir, that beautiful man that hooked me up with the tickets in the first place. Dude, you will be remembered by my grand kids, I swear!

Alright, I'll shut up now...

"That's the difference between me and the rest of the world! Happiness isn't good enough for me! I demand euphoria! "

- Calvin

2006-10-10T13:12:00.000-03:00

I turned 28 today. I'm fine with it. I really am people, no BS. I'm surprised actually, at the level of zen with regards to coming one year closer to the dreaded 3-Oh. Personally I don't mind getting older, as long as I don't get fat and hairy, two situations no one should have to deal with. I'm pretty screwed with the hair situation, thanks to my North-African heritage, but the fat thing is completely my prerogative. I need to go back to training ASAP. Being out of shape is killing my self-esteem, not from a "I want to look like Brad Pitt" kind of way, but more from a "feeling healthier, and not have the bottom buttons of my shirt holding on for dear life" kind of way. Eastern philosophy (as opposed to North American pop culture) maintains that healthy body and healthy mind are one of the same. I don't feel healthy right now, and I want to change that. Just like a sensible diet and exercise will promote a healthier body, sensible relationships and regular mental/emotional stimulation will promote a healthier mind. Henceforth, I'm going forward with Operation Cull the Fat, which involves shaving the excesses on both ends. Having said all this, it's my birthday, so I plan to first visit the endlines of debauchery throughout the week, courtesy of an Iron Maiden concert tonight (MAIDEN!!!), and a solid round of binging and purging this Friday the 13th. I'm going to hit bottom like Tyler Durden, and start things from scratch.

I know, it all sounds very exciting...

"Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix. "

- Christina Baldwin

"Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the beast for it is a human number, its number is six hundred and sixty six."

- Bruce Dickingson of Iron Maiden

2006-10-05T13:27:00.000-03:00

Three More Weeks in Hungary Part 3

I've often been asked to deliberate on what the factors that incited the riots that Monday night. The newspapers and foreign correspondents will tell you about "agitators" and "football hooligans", that supposedly set things off. I'm going to have to call bullshit on that, I'm afraid. I'm not going to pretend that there were none present; I haven't heard of a protest that didn't involve outside shit-disturber. What I'm saying is that they had little to do with that night's activities escalating into full out rioting. The truth is, we saw what happened step-by-step, and I can confidently claim that it was a simple case of incompetence, negligence, and documented police brutality.

When the mobs first gathered around the TV1 building, things were still peaceful and friendly. The crowd would even chastise any protester that would throw litter at the building's entrance. Eventually a group of young activists attempted to get inside (again, peacefully), to demand that a petition be read on the air. This petition had hundreds of signatures, and among other things, called for the Minister Prime's immediate resignation, for his serious moral and political transgressions against the nation. The TV1's director was caught on tape coming into the building when these kids showed up, and promptly had security kick them out on their faces without a second thought. Naturally, the next day he claimed that he had not been aware of any kind of petition, and that the protesters were a bunch of delinquent criminals that just wanted to create chaos. Guess who else needs to step down?

Once the activists were thrown out, the building security guards began to demand that everyone leave the premises immediately, or suffer the consequences. When no one budged, and the chanting got louder, they began blasting pepper through the entrance metal gates. Soon we heard a disturbance from the east side of the TV1 building, as approx 50 shielded riot cops filed in front of the crowd, cutting them off from the entrance. It was like the Death Star scene out of Return of the Jedi. From that point on, it was all really a matter of time before things got out of hand. Hungarian cops, especially the riot response variety, are known to be a bunch of sadistic savages, who take pleasure in pulping people, or spraying them until they go blind. Insults turned to spitting. Spitting turned to face-offs. Then the cops eventually gave in to their reputation, and the batons began to fly.

There was only one small problem; we outnumbered them twenty to one...

TO BE CONCLUDED...

"It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence."

- Mahatma Gandhi

2006-10-02T09:47:00.000-03:00

Three Weeks in Hungary Part 2

So the Hungarian Minister Prime was exposed as liar and a procrastinator; nothing new there, right? Well, you have to remember that Europeans, especially those peoples that spent considerable time under the yoke of the Soviet Union, are only getting their first taste of so-called Democracy (the notorious North-American variety), and they haven't had the opportunity to properly adjust to living under the Big Lie. Hungarians in particular are acquainted with straightforward oppression, no veils, no silk gloves, so when they found out the truth about Ferenc Gyurcsany, they lost their fucking minds.

Within hours of the secret session tapes being released, hundreds of pissed off citizens began to converge on Budapest (the capital), armed with flags, billboards, and anti-government slogans. My cousin called up a few of his close friends, and before I knew it, I was sandwiched in the back of a white Lada, doing warp 9, bound for Budapest. We got there under and hour, and managed to park the car near the Lanc Hid (Chain Bridge), then we walked for about ten minutes to reach the square near the Parliament, where we were greeted to about 5 thousand people, chanting and protesting in unison. We hung around in the crowd for a while, listening to the various people that took the microphone to voice their (and our) complaints to the powers that be. It was all civilized and peaceful at that point, and would be for several hours, before all hell was set

loose.

At around 11pm, we ran out of smokes and beers, so I took off with one of my cousin's good buddies to make an emergency run. It took us almost a half hour, but we managed to find a 24-hour place to replenish our supplies, and soon we were trekking back to find our people. We crossed the Freedom Square on our way back, which was quiet at that point, and saw maybe 25-50 people camped out in front of the TV 1 building, calmly waving their flags. By the time we made it back to the Parliament Square however, people were mobilizing en masse to join up with that small group we had just seen. The crowd was now bound for the TV 1 building as well, something of a symbolic gesture to Hungarians, and pretty soon we were all there, singing old songs, and asking for Gyurcsany's resignation. Some kinds started climbing the sides of the building, pulling down foreign flags and replacing them with local ones (much to the crowd's approval), and the more dedicated and eccentric protesters took this opportunity to make everyone laugh with their antics.

I'll never forget you Speedo Christ Man.

TO BE CONTINUED...

"What is a rebel? A man who says no. "

- Albert Camus

2006-09-27T15:12:00.000-03:00

Three More Weeks in Hungary Part 1

I talked a lot about the profound effect my latest trip had on me in some of my recent posts, but I thought I'd take the time to deliberate on some of the things that happened out there. The question I get the most from people is "so how was the riot dude?" As many of you know, Hungary is going through some turbulent times as we speak; government related ones at that.

You'll read a lot of articles on what happened that past Monday night, last week, when five thousand citizens spontaneously materialized in the capital of Budapest to cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war. It's hard for me to give you a complete portrait of the who/where/how/why's, as I'm only starting to get a bigger picture of the motives behind this mess. I can however cover the basics, and give you a first hand breakdown of what happened when the riots broke out, as I just happened to be standing in the 4th row of the mob when it all went down.

Hungary is currently governed by a parliamentary democracy , at the head of which sits the incomparable Frenenc (Frank) Gyurcsany, Minister Prime. The party currently in power is the MSZP, or Socialist Party. I know this seems weird in the wake of the fall of Communism, but Hungary developed a kind of hybrid socialist approach that worked rather well during the waning years of the Iron Curtain. Despite widespread outcry for change and reform, the MSZP managed to slime their way back into power in 2004 by using slick advertisement, and by somehow managing to tie every single problem in the country to the opposition. It was a propaganda tour de force, they say. Since 2004 Gyurcsany and Co. have initiated a "tighten the belt" policy in Hungary, with the supposed goal of meeting European Union parameters (for membership), and in the supposed interests of "prosperity". Meanwhile the average Hungarian's wages have fallen to pathetic new lows, taxes and inflation are bleeding the industrial sector, and many old Hungarian institutions have been sold off to foreign investors (not a good thing).

The cherry topping on all this is a three-hour private recording of the Minister Prime, speaking in an angry voice to his party colleagues, which was somehow leaked to the medias a few weeks ago. In this recording Ference Gyurcsany pretty much takes a dump on the country, and literally admits that his party has been lying morning, day and night. Oh, he also openly admits that he hasn't done a single fucking thing since coming to power.

As you can imagine, this piece of audio did not go unnoticed by Hungariansns...

TO BE CONTINUED

"Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed there are many rewards, if you disgrace yourself you can always write a book. "

- Ronald Reagan

2006-09-26T12:01:00.000-03:00

I'm baaack!

I'm sitting at my desk at work, and I'm not depressed. This means that I still haven't acknowledged the fact that I'm back. I'm still half expecting to grab a train back to my cousin's house and get sauced up on Johnny Walker and coka cola when the sun goes down. My head is reeling a little from the extreme time shift; my body is experiencing a mix of exhaustion and insomnia related discomfort. I feel like I'm still dreaming my return home. All that said, It's good to be back, at least with respect to being on familiar stomping territory again. My apartment is dusty but wide and roomy compared to the somewhat European claustrophobic inner-layouts. It's bloody cold here too, compared to Hungary. It'll be a couple of days before I can think straight again, if there is a such a thing. Like I mentioned in my previous posts, this trip had a profound effect on me. I really got some soul-searching done, and the like. Mainly it's been all about priorities, and re-building my motivation index (holy crap, I've turned into Phil McGraw!). Seriously though, I really needed an opportunity to see things clearly and objectively, and to realize that I've got some shit to do. I'm talking about rolling up the sleeves, and getting to work on building some kind of an independence structure; a nest egg of sorts.

Many of us have thought at some point or another, "show me the motherfuckin' money!". Many of us have (and still) dreamed of making money and becoming as self-sufficient as possible. This is not necessarily a greed-driven instinct. For my part at least, it's a deep-seated desire to rise above wage-slave status, not only to increase my own comfort, but to take care of my family. That's the key - the purpose behind wanting to make the money. It's not so much about hoarding gold coins and penny pinching, as it is about empowering yourself to be able to provide the kind of life that all people should ideally deserve. It's not enough to say, "the world is about money and it sucks!". I have to turn the page, consolidate my efforts and basically come clean with the simple fact that our society is built on status and avarice, and if a person is going to achieve some measure of freedom and prosperity for his/her family, it's going to involve getting your hands dirty.

I want to take care of my people, and that means getting off my ass right the fuck now...

"I hope that while so many people are out smelling the flowers, someone is taking the time to plant some. "

- Herbert Rappaport

2006-09-17T16:19:00.000-03:00

Salutations from the Old World...

My saga continues out here in the land of a thousand facets. I've got a thousand facets of my own to worry about; a myriad of ideas bouncing around in my head, that is. So many things to talk about about, to say... I'll probably come back with a million other blog posts in me!

Meanwhile I hear the Canadian homefront has gone crazy in the wake of the Dawson shooting. This is especially troubling to me, being a Dawson veteran, and the fact that I still know a couple of people back there. The operative words are simply, f-u-c-k-e-d-u-p. I can't begin to think or say anything on this topic until I get back and survey the situation. This crazy shit has got to stop. What't it going to take for the powers that be to realize that this is not an accident, or some type of isolated freak occurence. THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING MUCH WORSE! That's right you self-centered, righteous, arrogant, bloodsucking rich fat fucks! This is the world you made. This is the world we surrendered our individuality to. This is the world that was promised to our children, and their children. I hope you cocksuckers choke on the diseased fruits of our labor.

That ends my rant for now...

Otherwise, things are just dang peachy for my and the little lady. We're having a great time out here, and I'm finding a lot of time to do that which I love doing the most - thinking. My noggin is abuzz with all kinds, people. From artistic things right to the philosophical. I'm coming back a more focused and dangerous man, is all I can say. Beware!

All jokes aside, this trip is fast turning into an experience that I will cherrish for some time to come. I'm getting nearer and nearer to an answer, to a solution, to a plan, to a life strategy. It's all a matter of pieceing together the fragments of your past, finding your center in all of it, and carving into stone that which matters to you above all. This is the next big step.

Sounds exciting, don't it?

PS THE NEW SLAYER ALBUM FUKKEN RULES

"Make up your mind to act decidedly and take the consequences. No good is ever done in this world by hesitation"
- Thomas H. Huxley

2006-09-14T07:29:00.000-03:00

A million things to say, but only ten minutes to type it up...

The trip has been incredible so far, we've been really taking advantage of our time out here. Yesterday was a particularly great day, as we went into the heart of Budapest and got to visit some of the essential places. In particular, we went up into the great castle that overlooks the Danube river, from there we went up into the bastions and nearly fainted from the scenery. This city gets more beautiful with every visit. We met a guy up there with a pet royal falcon, and he let Lisa carry it on her arm for a while (I gots pictures!). From there we went around to gawk at the 17th century architecture, and we accidently happended upon a museum that's featuring a 4 story exhibition on...wait for it...Hungaryan military history!!! I obvioulsy went completely batshit at the sight of the building, and proceeded inside for a look-see.

Suffice to say that it was the single most incredible museum exhibition I have ever seen with my own two eyes. Phenomenal, magnificent, mind-bendingly interesting. We're talking suits of armor, shields, swords, polearms, bows, war saddles, breastplates, lances, all the way through the first firearms, and machinery, right up to modern day warfare, without forgetting WWI and WWII. The Nazi exhibit was as mesmerizing as it was chilling, complete with propaganda posters, and manequins decked out in SS uniforms. Fucking sweet! And yes, I gots motherfuckin' pictures baby! The whole thing lasted like 2 hours, but it felt like 15 minutes. There was just so much information (bet you didn't know that Hungarians pretty much created and transmitted the military system by which the USA, and UK organized themslelves during the 19th century), that I had to shoot through some displays without stopping, otherwise I'd still be there today. I wish Eric and Kurt could of been there with me, they would have lost their goddamn minds. So basically we're getting a lot of sightseeing done, which is doing wonders for Lisa, for whom this the first time out to Europe. She's absolutely bonkers for Hungary, and she has sworn to leave no giftshop unturned.

This reminds me, for all of you who want postcards from the Old World, do a me a favor and drop me a line at my gmail address. I'll be sure to make one out to everyone that checks in. This announcement goes triple for memebers of Gamecore, for whom I already have seleceted a couple of sweet ones from the War Museum. Do it!

I hope you are all doing well, I'll check in as soon as I have the chance...

"I don't mind what language an opera is sung in so long as it is a language I don't understand." - Sir Edward Appleton

2006-09-09T12:58:00.000-03:00

Greetings all,

I've finally found the time and opportunity to log in some net action out here in the Old Country. The trip was a blast (sort of), and it has laready been a fucking great couple of days. Batteries are renegergizing as we speak. If you want some sights just log on to flickr.com and get a sneak peak at our activites so far.

Hungary is still the place that I left a year ago; politics are still shitty, people getting poorer by the second, etc. You wouldn't know it from their attitude though. They still party, eat and travel around like all is well. It's like Lisa said in her email to her loved ones; of all the great things about this place, the people are without a doubt the main reason to visit Hungary. That and like 1200 years worth of culture and history!

That's all for today kids, I'll check back in soon!

"Whenever I hear the word culture, I reach for my revolver."
- Hans Johst

2006-09-05T18:44:00.000-03:00

Start spreading the news
I'm leaving Wednesday
I want to be a part of it, Europe, Europe

These vagabond shoes
Are longing to stray
And make a brand new start of it
Europe, Europe

I want to wake up in the city that sometimes reeks
To find I'm king of the hill, top of the heap

These Montreal blues
Are melting away
I'll make a brand new start of it
In old Europe

If I can make it there
I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you, Europe, Europe!

"Europe was created by history. America was created by philosophy."
- Margaret Thatcher

"They are so damn 'intellectual' and rotten that I can't stand them anymore....I [would] rather sit on the floor in the market of Toluca and sell tortillas, than have anything to do with those 'artistic' bitches of Paris." - Frida Kahlo

2006-08-31T10:33:00.000-03:00

What do you do when someone you care deeply about, has someone they care deeply about, that's in a downward spiral, fucking themselves up?

You may have been in this situation before; your best friend's sister is a drug addict, or your best friend's mom is suicidal, and you end up hearing about it one night. There you are, the uncomfortable Third Party, at once moved by your best friend's plight, and filled with the need to come to their rescue, but at the same time, somewhat confused as to the extent to which you'll be able to help with the problem, as it involves a semi-stranger. It's tricky. I mean what do you do?

To be honest, there are advantages to being an outsider in cases like these. If you decide to intervene in the crisis, you have a kind of exterior status; your presence in the whole affair will most likely be received with surprise. An outsider often has a better chance of getting through to a friend-of-a-friend, simply because they haven't heard from you before. Family and old friends have history with the person in question, and their advice is mostly taken for granted, or ignored completely. A fresh perspective is often what we all wish for, when things are black and bitter inside. The key is perceived motivation. What is advice after all, if not a series of sensible comments and observations that we have already internalized, but for which we want validation. We want someone to repeat it back to us, for reassurance. In a society of best-guesses, a little perceived certainty can do wonders for the soul.

So if you're in this situation, and you've decided to do something about it, and track down the burdened soul in question, you can resort to one of three approaches.

1. Compassionate Concern: Not the most effective way to engage the problem, mainly because you're an outsider, and all your passion and kindness will be viewed as somewhat superficial, or just plain WTF. I know that's how I would react to some semi-stranger grabbing my hand and getting all Dr. Phil with me, out of the blue.

2. Subtle Analysis: Can work, provided you're smart enough not to get caught psycho-analyzing the person. Advantages are that you will not appear confrontational, but you might come off a little too Emperor Plapatine for your own good. It comes across as patronizing and nosey too.

3. Straight up: You sit down, and you give it to them in a tight concise manner. You remind them that you're not there to pass judgment, or moralize, only to deliver a clear message from a concerned outsider; something along the lines of "look dude, you family's worried about you, and I'm hear to tell you that I can see what it's doing to them..."

I think I'll go with number 3 personally, it's the most honest approach, and it doesn't put the person on the spot as much (which will work against you). The goal is to get the message out, with a minimum of fuss, and without placating the individual, or making them feel worse than they already will. No one likes to hear (from a stranger) that they're hurting their loved ones with their behavior.

It's tough nut to crack any way you look at it...

"When we ask for advice, we are usually looking for an accomplice. "

- Marquis de la Grange

2006-08-30T14:12:00.000-03:00

I leave the country a week from now, and the anticipation is starting to build. I'll try my best to keep stress levels at a minimum, by taking care of pre-departure things in a timely manner. I have to make sure my cat is fed and looked after by neighbors, and take care of all the bills ahead of time, so as not to come under assault when we get back. I have to do a solid round of shopping for some last minute essentials, such as little gifts, some travel trinkets (passport/paper belt), and I'm fairly certain that I could use a big camping pack as well. We'll see where that goes. From a work perspective, apart from Thurs and Friday, I basically have one day left to work on Tuesday, before the chains are removed (for a while), and I get to go home and pack my suitcase, so that should go pretty smoothly. Wednesday is take-off day to Hungary (via Frankfurt).

I wish you fuckers could come with me...

"Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods. "

- Aristotle

2006-08-28T11:56:00.000-03:00

Quite a weekend. We threw that b-day bash for Lisa, like we had planned, and I must say that it was a complete success. Everything just worked out in our favor; or almost everything. Saturday turned out to be some kind of a miracle day, from a weather perspective, after the spotty Fall overtures we've been seeing for the past week, it was almost shocking to see how pleasantly warm and sunny it was all day. People started to show up from about 5pm-6pm on, and from there, the house just filled up from one second to the next. Before we knew it, it was a full house of party-minded people. I manned my new hibachi BBQ all night, mingling with the assortment of close friends, and new acquaintances throughout the evening. Like I said, major success from every perspective. I think it went down exactly like my girl had hoped.

The only part that didn't go my way, was the fact that I came down with the mother of all headaches around 11pm, and I felt so ill at some point, that I had to excuse myself and pass out in the bedroom, while the party went on outside. It was a horrible couple of hours, as I just tossed there with a pillow over my face, trying to not feel nauseous, my head pounding like someone had taken a power drill to the back of my skull. I finally came to my sense at around 6:30am, as the Advil and sleep helped knock me back into the land of the living. I poked my head out of the bedroom to find the biggest surprise I had experienced in a long time; the guests had left, but not before CLEANING MY ENTIRE HOUSE! It was a funny scene, me standing there, my hair all cracked out, rubbing my eyes, as the lemony cleaning product scent still hung in the air.

There may be hope for our race yet...

"Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should dance."

- Unknown

2006-08-24T16:47:00.000-03:00

Finally...some sanity in hollywood! Go Redstone!

READ ALL ABOUT IT

2006-08-24T10:23:00.000-03:00

Most people plan their vacations to allow for leisurely activities during the summer months, but this year, my girl and I decided to do things differently. Cost was naturally a factor; we wanted to avoid the "crazy season" as much as possible, and not get stuck paying through the nose for plane tickets. It's amazing what a few days or a week can do to shift the cost of traveling. Apparently something strange happens after the 5th of September, and ticket prices drop sharply by 3-400$, just like that. Of course the "experts" will tell you a whole bunch of things about "seasonal shifts" and "hot months", but the truth is that the travel industry is extremely fickle. Weather patterns, wars, political instability, and the new favorite: terrorist attack threats, are all factors that can mean 1500$ for a (one-way) ticket one day, and 250$ (both ways!) the next.

Speaking of "terrorist threats", these new restrictions that have been implemented in major travel centers, regarding what you can and can't take with you on a trip, are simply fucking ridiculous. I realize everyone is scared out of their wits after that supposed thwarted attempt to orchestrate a trans-Atlantic fireworks show, using passenger airliners between the US and the UK, but things seem to have been blown (no pun intended) a little out of proportion. No gels, no creams, no liquids, no pastes, also means no hygiene! That means we get to sit in Economy class for 10.5 hours between Trudeau and Frankfurt, with no toothpaste, no deodorant, no perfume. Where are those single-serving Colgate sample people, that you see at movie premieres, when you need them?

"Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living. "

- Miriam Beard

2006-08-18T14:06:00.000-03:00

I don't think that there's a person in the world who doesn't worry about what other people think of them. It's a simple symptom of society that we define everything, and especially ourselves, by relation to other comparable entities. Relationships, comparisons, contrasts; these are the simple measures by which we establish in our minds, the formula for our existence. Naturally, there are the things that are perceived, and the things that we would like to be perceived; what is, and what we would like it to be.

It's probably the reason why people love tarot cards, horoscopes, and personality tests so much. They fills us with this sensation that we are somehow gaining insight into how other people view us, that we are getting some kind of definition of who we are. This is important because we are (at base) rational creatures, that look for parameters in everything. Our instinct is to categorize knowledge. We tend to instinctiveley examine, sort, label and store new information in the way a post office employee treats incoming parcels and letters. We do this because it allows us to make sense of things, to have some reassurance about their nature; we get piece of mind, knowing that this belongs here, and that belongs over there. Anything else would be maddening, would it not? In reality, of course, nothing is that clear-cut, or simple.

We are not equations, at least not the type that we can calculate with our current philosophical capacity. We are a collection of contradictions, compounded by routine behaviors, navigated by impulses and instincts. In the end, you're left with two ideas of you, two "selves", if you will. The first is your take on things, the other changes depending on whom you ask. I think one of the most fascinating things in my life, is the periodic clash of these differences in perception. You'll look at yourself in the mirror in the morning and say, "I look like dogshit today", and then run into a variety of people that will confirm or deny that perception. Sometimes I'll think, "Man, I'm sure people find my straightforwardness refreshing and enjoyable", when in fact some people will find this characteristic to be reprehensible or "non-PC".

In the end, I think a person has to make some kind of inner-pact with themselves. To look in the mirror and say "this who I am, these are some of the things I stand for, these are some of the insecurities and fallacies that I embrace willingly". It's not so much an "f-u" to the rest of the world, as it is a clear and genuine mission statement about the kind of person you would like to be. The ultimate goal here, is to be at peace with myself; to accept that others will view me such-and-such light, and to get to a place in my state of being, where that shit is okay.

Inner-peace, is what I'm talking about...

"Every creator painfully experiences the chasm between his inner vision and its ultimate expression"

- Isaac Bashevis Singer

2006-08-14T11:27:00.000-03:00

How was my weekend? You mean apart from my girlfriend's fish dying (after a year of teasing death), and apart from having had Delta Force One (my bike) stolen? Not bad. Yeah, Willy gave up the ghost finally, that poor bastard, it was touch-and-go for a while there, but he finally floated up on his side around 10pm last night, and joined his fallen brothers and sisters in the great Toilet Continuum. Farewell Willy, my son, your Greek tragedy/hypocondriac antics will be missed.

As for DFO, well, what can I say? The motherfucker that stole it must have been some kind of a desperate crack fiend, or he really needed it to get to his new warehouse job. I say this because if you have seen DFO, you know that it was a piece of shit bike, with a cool looking ghetto black paint job. In fact I originally spray-canned my bike to render it unattractive in the first place, but apparently my artistic vision appealed to some dirty dreadlocked welfare junkie, enough to leap into action, and steal her in the dead of night. I feel kind of bad for the sucker; he had to wrench through a U-lock to get the bike out, and it must have taken him the better part of the night. It's funny, but for some reason, I never did get terribly attached to DFO. I originally inherited the bike from a friend of my girlfriend, and since the day I broke it in, I've always had this kind of strange prophetic relationship with it. It's like I always knew deep-down somehow, that it would end up stolen some day.

Shit happens...

In more uplifting news, check out this article I found...

Hungarians keen for 'Chuck Norris Bridge'

The American action hero Chuck Norris is leading a government poll in Hungary that has been set up to find a name for a new bridge in Budapest. The name "Chuck Norris Bridge" has attracted more than 8,000 votes or 11 per cent of the Internet poll. It puts the actor just ahead of a Hungarian humorist and the country's first king, Stephen the Great.
A government committee will review the outcome of the poll next month before making a final decision.

- Reuters

"When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough. "

- Maurice Maeterlinck

2006-08-10T12:40:00.000-03:00

I just finished reading about the "chaos" that's ensued from the massive lock-down in the UK and US, following a supposed unveiling of a secret plot by terrorists, to explode as many as 12 airliners between those two nations, while in mid-flight. They're saying that this is the biggest terror scare in UK history, and everywhere head's are spinning with the fear factor reaching an all-time high. I guess it's election season again.

It's time for another round of "who's afraid of the breaded brown men?!".

I swear to god, I'm moving to the moon...

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

- Martin Luther King Jr.

2006-08-09T10:12:00.000-03:00

3 Reasons why Jason's head may implode and become a back hole

1. Oliver Stone's World Trade Center

I suppose it was only a matter of time, before America would cash in their biggest "oh woe to us" card since Pearl Harbor, but the puke-factor of this melodrama-rama, is too much for even me to bear. It's not enough that we get to see Nicholas Cage running around with a sex-offender stashe the whole time, looking all teary-eyed and heartbroken, we're also likely to be subjected to every single cliche in the Big Book of Hollywood Tear-Jerking Techniques. In fact the World Trade Center is probably in slow motion for the full 2 hours. The music is likely to be only the finest grade of syrupy, gut-wrenching Craig Armstrong flag-waving shmaltz. And the flag waving, oh my! It's like a Jerry Bruckheimmer porn festival. The only way to redeem this piece of shit is to add a huge caption a the beginning of the movie that reads "Based on a story". What Oliver "Did Someone Say Conspiracy?" Stone is doing attached to this project, is anyone's guess. My theory is that he had to basically take one up the backside after crashing and burning Alexander, once considered the hottest property in Hollywood.

2. The Mel Gibson Saga

So if I learned the lesson correctly, all I have to do is become a movie star, or some kind of an overbearing celebrity, and once that is accomplished, every bit of inane, retarded crap that comes out of my mouth in public will immediately gain enough power to overshadow Israel's invasion of the Lebanon, or the war in Iraq. Interesting. Interesting because I can bet you a cool mil, that if you bugged half of the big names in Hollywood, you would get to hear some really outlandish shit. I think Zinedine Zidane had the right idea, just headbutt everybody in the chest if they say the wrong thing, and move on. Clean and simple. Children are dying all over the world, so fuck Mad Max and his alcoholic born-again wrinkled ass.

3. Guys with pink polo shirts

...

3 Reasons why Jason might recover from said implosion, and lead a normal life

ONE

TWO

THREE

"All over the place, from the popular culture to the propaganda system, there is constant pressure to make people feel that they are helpless, that the only role they can have is to ratify decisions and to consume. "

- Noam Chomsky

2006-08-08T10:14:00.000-03:00

It's official now, I'm off to Hungary again this September, and this time I'm bringing my main squeeze. This will be our first trip out of the country together, so it's going to be all kinds of fun. I look forward to seeing my cousin and his family again, my granny, my aunt and uncle too.

I want to talk about a million things today, but unfortunately I have been battling a headache since last night (I could feel it while I was sleeping), and it feels like my brains have been scrambled like in that 80's anti-drug commercial.

I'll try back later...

2006-08-06T13:16:00.000-03:00

2006-08-04T13:35:00.000-03:00

The quest for Capoeira continues...

In our last episode, our intrepid former-Capoeira enthusiast, Jason The Terrible had fallen between a rock and hard place, following another disappointing dead end, in his search for a new academy. Jason had scoured the earth (Montreal, that is), for a new place to resume his training, which he reluctantly had to interrupt, due to deep philosophical differences with his old school's administration. Jason rode half-way across town last month, armed with hope, and a small piece of paper (with the address of a new academy), only to have his hopes crushed again, when he found the building vacant. Fast-forward to present day, our valiant dreamer is fiddling around on the mighty internet, only to discover that there has been a breakthrough in the Montreal Capoeira scene. A new academy is opening its doors, no later than next week, and exactly 4 BLOCKS AWAY FORM HIS HOUSE!

Okay, the 3rd-person thing has worn out its welcome...

So yeah, this rules in a major freakin' way. I've been going stir crazy for the last 9 months, dreaming Capoeira every other night, and even going so far as contemplating a return to my old group, which would have been a humiliating experience, to say the least. I'm looking forward to checking out this new place, and getting back into the saddle after being away from the good stuff for so goddamn long.

"The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfactory future is, in fact, a return to the idealized past. "

- Robertson Davies

2006-08-01T11:43:00.000-03:00

We've been hearing for years, that with all things considered, we are basically fucked (ecologically and socio-politically) as a species, here on Earth. If you're like me, then news of this type has the same kind of effect on you, as daily reports of napalmed families in Iraq and Lebanon; it's information you feel you should be in on, but that you could do without after some time. It's taxing on the soul, all this death and tragedy, this lifestyle of discriminate murder and wholesale waste, that we call society. There's only so much you can take, before you're forced to turn off the tube, put away the papers, and turn up the volume on your ipod, to drown out the deafening sounds of the dying world around you.

In those few moments of courage, those fleeting periods of our lives when we suck it up, and decide to switch to our chosen source of world news, it's important to pay attention, and try to keep the melodrama to a minimum. What I'm mean, is that a person should try their best to gather the most information, the best information, and view it with a critical mind, rather than fall to the floor and begin weeping (It's hard, I know). So if you're going to be the type that updates themselves in periodic educated glimpses of the world, make those glimpses count.

I am slowly gravitating toward that kind of outlook myself. There was a time when I read all the news I could get my hands on. Then came a period of such personal disgust, with regards to global human madness, that I became a militant social ignoramus; refusing to open the papers for anything beyond the latest Dilbert or Get Fuzzy cartoon strip. There were my typical extreme reactions to the ugliness of the planet, but now I seem to have reached some kind of a compromise.

In my latest "glimpse", I've mostly been delving into the realm of resource-depletion, and ecological damage-control. I'm sure my colleague Sahsa (of KEBBS fame) could provide a more educated and scientific assessment of things, but I have stumbled across some interesting (and frightening) information of my own. I won't bore you with the graphs and pie-charts, so no worries, I will say however, that the situation is pretty fucking grim, as far as our chances for continued survival are concerned.

It's not just the usual prospects that are looking dire. Yeah, fuel prices are throught the roof; we haven't seen prices like this since the '73 crisis. Yeah, global warming is out of control, ice caps are melting and so on. But what we don't talk about so much, is just how dependent we are on fossil fuels. Everything we use, ware and eat is connected with fossil fuels. It's estimated, that to produce one calorie of food, we need to expend 10 calories of fossil fuels. I think the math there speaks for itself. It takes 20 barrels of oil to produce a normal size automobile, it costs fuel to make every plastic and synthetic derivative known to man. We have basically painted ourselves into a corner in every conceivable way. Even if we wanted to make the world a better place, I'm not sure what we could do, to stop the boulder from rolling over our heads. It's getting to the point where the only debate left, is whether our race will collapse from lack of resources, or from the toxic waste that we have poured into our planet's vitals.

It looks like our only hope now, is to start taking science-fiction books seriously (imagine that!), and start looking for new real estate in space. It's already under way, I'm told. It's a kind of lethal lottery now, for the rest of the "inhabitable" planets of the solar system. They get to draw straws, to determine which globe will be next on humanity's hit list. I'm sure the aliens are out there, hiding for their lives.

And to think that we we're worried about them destroying us all this time...

"The modern age has been characterized by a Promethean spirit, a restless energy that preys on speed records and shortcuts, unmindful of the past, uncaring of the future, existing only for the moment and the quick fix. The earthly rhythms that characterize a more pastoral way of life have been shunted aside to make room for the fast track of an urbanized existence. Lost in a sea of perpetual technological transition, modern man and woman find themselves increasingly alienated from the ecological choreography of the planet."

- Jeremy Rifkin

2006-07-27T15:23:00.000-03:00

I'm flipping the script a little today, meaning that I'm pre-empting my regular post, to shill the blog I recently set up for my film projects. Check it out if you're interested, but don't get used to the design just yet, I'm still playing around with it, and trying to acquire some minimal HTML skills, so I can catch up to the rest of the online world. I'm not going to be abandoning B.E.G.M.L. , so no worries, I just decided to keep a journal for my projects on the side, with hopes that I will be working on many more to come.

I'll be back next week with more deliberation and ranting, for your reading pleasure (but mainly in the interest of remaining passably sane!)

So without further ado, I give you Quite Operational: A Filmmaker's Journey

"Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race. "

- Calvin Coolidge

2006-07-26T10:28:00.000-03:00

The music industry is really and truly fucked up. I realize that some of you have come to that realization a long time ago, but I think I should still set down some of these thoughts on proverbial paper. Don't worry, I'm not going to try and do a "biography of music" thing, I'd rather concentrate on one particular aspect of the madness that has saturated the way that music is made, packaged and marketed.

Someone mentioned this morning at work that booble-head-tv-made-starlet's Nicole Ritchie is (also) putting out a record. A FUCKING RECORD! I guess I shouldn't be surprised, with her even-bigger-bobble-head-tv-starlet buddy P. Hilton already striking that lukewarm piece of iron. I just love the fact that these type of vanity projects even get real music-business attention. Like HMV will have a giant poster dedicated to it, in their display window (which is fine in theory), right next to a Johnny Cash Greatest Hits ad. I don't know what's worse, that, or the fact that Cash (who rules) is starting to sell again, in that Tupac kind of way. The point is, that this is all riddiculous.

It's no mystery that the music industry has always been about the money, but there have been some lines crossed in the past 15-20 years that just boggle the mind. It's bad enough that most actors think that they can sing (there are exceptions of course), and that some sports stars are also convinced of this (proof right here!), but now we are witnessing the emergence of the no-talent-of-measurable-worth tv personality studio records. People who don't act, sing, dance or do anything of any particular of interest, but that are somehow qualified to release an LP, and have it distributed by giant conglomerates. All you need is fame. Any form of fame, be it Reality TV fame, sex-scandal fame, or butt-of-national-joke fame, like in the instance of William Hung, the mentally-challenged American Idol sensation, that actually WENT ON TOUR to perform bad covers of Ricky Martin (is that even possible?). Fame has now overruled all. Where once upon a time, fame just meant that you had the lights in your face, and go to walk down red carpets. Fame has become it's own scene, and now operates independently of any actual talent or ability. The internet hasn't helped the situation; now everyone is goddamn rock star, actor, whatever. Everyone is famous.

It's not all bad though, this mass saturation of media and self-promotion has opened a lot of doors too, and given many actually talented and driven people a chance to get on a map, without having to spend too much time on their knees behind the Sony Music building. But mostly, it's just made the internet into this perpetual Solid Gold nightmare; with everyone auditioning, every day, every hour of the day.

It's called YouTube.

To top it all off, these "albums" put out by these "artists", are mostly a handful of nauseating cracker jack pop singles written by real studio musicians, who then painstakingly teach these fake stars to "sing" them. Once that's done, they feed the whole recording through Pro Tools, to adequately disguise their mediocre voices and delivery, and finally, back-up vocals are added in (performed by real singers) to add a little substance to the mix. Presto, voila, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Jennifer "I wish I was Selena" Lopez (I refuse to call her J-Lo). In the end, I don't know what's sadder. The fact that these no-talent cardboard cut-outs are taking over the world, or the fact that their records are selling, and their ratings are through the roof.

Maybe it's the fact that I've just wasted an entire hour posting about them.

Fuuuck me...

"We are always more anxious to be distinguished for a talent which we do not possess, than to be praised for the fifteen which we do possess. "

- Mark Twain

2006-07-24T10:45:00.000-03:00

I would just like to say that I'm hating on all you between-jobs motherfuckers right now, as I sit here, on an awfully nice Monday morning, locked inside the dreary, soul-sucking confines of my work office. It doesn't help that I'm cracked out due to an indigestion, that sneaked up on me yesterday. It also doesn't help that I re-installed HALO on my laptop, and stayed up until 2am, destroying Covenant alien scum with my high-powered tactical rifle. There's nothing quite like the denial that you impose on yourself, when you want to play video games really bad.

In other news, I found out yesterday that my brother-in-law Dany's short film (that I worked on, and shot the featurette for), just got picked up as a student-film selection for the the Montreal Film Festival. This is pretty awesome news, although I sort of expected to see Dany's work take off eventually, as he is one talented and driven individual. I totally admire the guy. His work ethic, and his dedication to his projects is unparalleled. He's the kind of filmmaker that can make things happen, the intelligent kind that the industry needs more of. Rawk on Dany.

Speaking of films, I'm having a sit-down with my newly-appointed project coordinator tonight, Kurt, who apart from being one of my best friends in the universe, is also a champ when it comes to pulling shit together, and getting it on a schedule. He's going to be my go-to guy for getting things organized, and making this project happen, so that I can fully concentrate on making this short film idea of mine come to life.

I have had a lot of positive, and constructive feedback on the screenplay so far; people seem to get it, which is always a positive. I really want to pull this off.

"We forfeit three-fourths of ourselves in order to be like other people. "

- Arthur Shoppenhauer

2006-07-20T10:26:00.000-03:00

The Box Office Bomb That I Love

The 13th Warrior (Eaters of the Dead)

Listed today as one of the biggest box office flops in history, 13th Warrior is perhaps one of the genre movies that I am most fond of. Somehow, this movie, despite all the production problems it had, re-writes, re-shoots, heavy editing, studio moth-balling, somehow it fucking rocked! I don't understand why it didn't do better. The actors were all fresh faces, apart for Banderas, who really climbed out of his stereotypical style, and delivered a very refreshing performance. All the "Vikings" looked money, the cinematography was gorgeous, the fights were visceral and believable, and above all, the story was just plain compelling. If you haven't seen 13th Warrior, give it a chance; it will rock you.

The story is a combination of an adaptation of the excellent novel by Michael Crichton (Jurassic Park), about a 10th century poet/author from Baghdad (Banderas), who falls out of favor with his Caliph (Lord), and is consequently sent away on a fool's errand, to make diplomatic contact with the barbarian peoples of northern Europe. I say combination, because 13th Warrior's plot also meshes into the epic of Beowulf, once our unlikely Middle-Eastern hero lands on northern ground.

Through unexpected events, Ebin (as the northmen mistakenly call him), is drafted into the company of a powerful band of Norsemen, who in turn have been compelled by an oracle, to seek out a troubled kingdom in the North, and come to the rescue of their kinsman there. Rumors speak of an ancient evil that haunts the land, and has brought the kingdom to its knees, and now 13 warriors must travel there, to stand against this calamity. I won't give away too much of the plot, for the benefit of those that haven't seen it yet, but I guarantee that you will be swept up by the thrilling action and suspense, once you get into it.

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody."

- Bill Cosby

2006-07-19T10:26:00.000-03:00

Random thoughts about the future...

- A couple of years ago, a fashion a magazine successfully managed to convince that their cover girl was a real, living supermodel, when in fact she had been created from composites of several women. With music having become digital, I wonder how long before we get our first Billboard #1 song, performed entirely by an computer-generated voice; not just a digitally created voice, but a song written by an a AI. We've seen near-real renderings of humans in movies like Final Fantasy: A Spirit Within, and Advent Rising. How long before all these accurate simulations of humanity are merged into one entity, and the world goes K. Dick/Asimov?

- The oil scare is no longer a scare; it is a documented fact now, that the world is running out of this, the most sought after resource, apart from clean water. We may actually see, in the very near future, a world without petrol. It will be a radical and messy changing of the guard, as oil barons and power conglomerates fight tooth-and-nail to retain their stranglehold on the world's economy, and governments find some other essential resource to kill, rape, and pillage over. A glimmer of hope resides in the growing voice of energy reform, an increasing number of people are calling for clean-burning fuels, environmentally-friendly materials, etc. The battle for the survival of our species will be fought over the course of the next 25 years.

- We now live, in what can be easily regarded as a world of conspiracies. It's not so much that conspiracies have become more commonplace, as much as our awareness of them has increased a hundredfold, with the explosion of the internet. The light is beginning to shine into dark corners everywhere, and we are slowly uncovering, one-by-one, the daily atrocities committed by the people whom we have entrusted with the governing of our nations. The interesting thing to see is whether people will pay attention to these revelations; if we still have it in us to absorb this information and react to it. The scary thing now, is not so much the crap that we will discover over the coming years, but whether we will be too jaded to raise a stink over these injustices, and have the conviction to make the perpetrators accountable.

The world is becoming a stranger place by the minute.

"Rash indeed is he who reckons on the morrow, or haply on days beyond it; for tomorrow is not, until today is past. "

- Sophocles

2006-07-18T10:46:00.000-03:00

I do my best to avoid talking current affairs or politics on BEGML, but sometimes it's unavoidable. Politics, religion; these are sore spots that tend to cause all kinds of misunderstandings and whip up instant shit-storms, so I try to stay away. Unfortunately, the world being what it is, you just have to open the news papers once in a while, take a deep breath, and discover what current human folly is eating the world. Well I did that, I opened the paper the other day, I even ventured on to an independent news website or two. I'm almost sorry that I did.

Death, disaster, desolation and destruction, seem to be the the only settings on our social Maytag. People just fucking each other left and right, governments oppressing and lying more openly and comfortably than ever before, children dying by the thousands. Pedophiles running free, women burned and mutilated, economies collapsing, secret shadow wars, intentional misinformation on a global scale, crisis. It's enough to send a man sprawling to the ground, curling up into fetal position, wishing he was back in the womb, where things were a little simpler.

Of all the shit that's wrong with the world right now, the worst thing on my radar has to be this Middle-East situation. With Ariel Sharon gone, and Palestine under Hamas rule, things have quickly spun out of control (not that they were under control really). Israel has gone on the offensive to the point of being rogue. We've seen it all before; weak pretexts, ambiguous justification resulting in brutal, unchecked aggression. The glass is spilled, and all of a sudden, all the powers that be are free to execute their private takeover agendas. As usual, America stands by, playing the dual role of diplomat and arms merchant, twisting things in the favor of the sham government in power, while the rest of the world decries these injustices, but lacks the backbone or initiative to step in and break the hostility.

It's a sad state of affairs, one that you and I are virtually powerless to affect. The only weapon we have is information, but it is a double-edged sword (or more like a twenty-headed hydra!). The Internet is, at once, this immense source of valuable data, and a breeding ground for garbage that verges on the surreal. The instinct to scrutinize, to evaluate and pick things apart has never been more crucial; to keep your options open, never settling on one given source for your information. There is an important distinction that must be made between the kind of person who just turns the TV off and never pulls their head out of the sand, and the type that avoids the daily dose of "tainted news" from the major channels, but looks into current affairs every once in a while, to stay informed and aware.

I'm doing everything in my power to be the latter kind...

"And thus I clothe my naked villainy

With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;

And seem a saint, when most I play the devil. "

- William Shakespeare

2006-07-17T10:28:00.000-03:00

Awww yeah...

What a weekend. Absolutely fucking fantastic. We drove up Saturday morning, the six of us, packed into a mini-SUV, with enough food and beer to hold us over for a week. It was funny as hell, because Richard (the man responsible for organizing it all), had made certain to check the 5-day forecasts last week, to make sure we would be all-clear for camping, and like 20 min into our trip, it started coming down like Armageddon. It began raining so hard, that we had to pull over on the highway, because Richard's girlfriend (at the wheel) couldn't see anything. To add to the hilarity of it all, Marc (Rich's younger brother) opened the newspaper in the car, and began reading the weather report out loud, and it was all like, "continuous thundershowers, with 80% chance of precipitation...". I haven't laughed that hard since the Ultimate Warrior DVD. In the end, we decided to push on, and lucky we did. About 15 min after we cleared Montreal, and started heading into wild country, the rain stopped, and things began to take a turn for the better. Once we reached the camping grounds (5 acres of lush country, belonging to Richard's in-laws), we unpacked, had a snack, and drove down to the nearby lake.

The lake alone was worth the trip. It was so pure and clean, you could drink from it. The temperature was right, the scenery was downright cinematic, and apart from our posse, there were like 10-20 people there at any given time. The most awesome thing was this inflatable eight-sided couch thing that we had access to. We baptized it the Floatomogon; a huge, ten-person floater, shaped like a doughnut, with head-rests, and cup-holders (which we filled with beers!). We basically sat around in a circle, lying back in the sun, taking in the scenery, and talking about whatever. We BBQ-ed, we drank, we smoked, we roasted marshmallows, we even shot off some fireworks in the wee hours. Sunday, we went down for one last dip in the lake, then we had lunch, then we packed up and headed back home.

I think I released 6 months worth of stress this weekend, and laughed more than I have in years. I feel like a new man.

Let's hope it lasts for a while...

"Some national parks have long waiting lists for camping reservations. When you have to wait a year to sleep next to a tree, something is wrong. "

- George Carlin

2006-07-15T00:45:00.000-03:00

Gone camping!

"I believe in God, only I spell it Nature."
- Frank Lloyd Wright

2006-07-12T10:38:00.000-03:00

I found a wallet yesterday on my way to work. It was just lying there on the street; I could see the dolla bills sticking out of it. I did what any other person would do, I looked around to see if I could trace the wallet back to anyone nearby. Nothing. I asked the construction workers across the street if the wallet was theirs, but then I realized that it had little flower patterns on it, would not likely come out of a burly crane-operator's back-pocket (then again...). Left with no other options, and running out of time (I had to get to work), I plopped the wallet into my backpack, and got back on my bike. I know what you're thinking, "did you keep the money?", or "what did you do with the wallet?". Well, I would be lying (and so would you) if I said that the thought of taking the cash didn't cross my mind, but I banished all thoughts of that kind immediately, and started to think of a way to get it back to its owner.

I sat down at my desk at work, and began to (apprehensively) going through the contents of the wallet. Bank card, another bank card, a bus pass, some non-essentials, and a VISA card. The credit card had a guy's name on it, while all the rest of the contents indicated a female name. My first step was to call the banks, who were rather daft, and unreceptive. They wouldn't contact the customer and notify them, telling me that I should drop off the wallet at a nearby branch instead. I wasn't crazy about that idea, mainly because I wanted to make sure that the person got all the contents of the wallet back, and I had a feeling someone would pocket the dough, somewhere along the way.

In the end I opted to take the wallet to the police station next door to my workplace, where I filled out a report, and handed it over to a senior officer. Before doing that however, I placed a quick call to VISA, and had them put a block on the card, in case the wallet fell into the hands of a buckaroo, instead of "the right sort". It was pretty funny actually, because the VISA operator couldn't get over the fact that a stranger was alerting them to a lost card situation. I think the girl almost asked me out over the phone.

It's too bad that society has gotten so rotten, that people like me are the exception, instead of the rule.

"All men profess honesty as long as they can. To believe all men honest would be folly. To believe none so is something worse. "

- John Quincy Adams

2006-07-10T11:37:00.000-03:00

After 8 different post attempts, that I have all deleted in light of their viceral, controvertial nature, I will forego sharing myself today for the benefit of all those that read my rants on a regular basis. Instead I leave you with the peaceful, zen-like picture above, and wish you all a pleasant Monday.

I love you all...

"Speak when you are angry--and you will make the best speech you'll ever regret. "

- Laurence J. Peter

2006-07-07T13:52:00.000-03:00

One of my recent obsessions (that is shared by many) has been the new Battlestar Galactica series that kicked-off in 2003. Starring Edward James Olmos, and a handful of obscure-but-talented actors and actresses, this re-vamped version of the 70's tv series is simply phenomenal. I'm going to spare all of you the typical fanboy stuff here, and concentrate instead on a hilarious detail that came to light as I was reading up on Battlestar trivia and history. It turns out that E.J. Olmos is a quarter Hungarian! Yes, I didn't believe it either, until I did some thorough research and confirmed it. This discovery led, understandably enough, to a mad googling session, which in turn yielded even more surprising information. I knew that Hollywood was full of Hungarians, but I had no idea just how many big names in Tinseltown had Hungarian blood. Some of the names will really surprise you; Jerry Seinfeld, Paul Newman, Jesse Ventura, Tony Curtis (and Jamie-Lee), Gene Simmons, Brent Spiner (Data!!!), Paul Simon, the list goes on. And that's just the tip of the bowl of goulash. Houdini, Lugosi, Tommy Ramone, and so on. Some people have suggested that "Jews run Hollywood", when in fact it should be "Hungarian-Jews run Hollywood". They have been all over the (classical, jazz) music scene, the realm of physicists, literature, poetry, sports, and even (wait for it) the American Civil War. All things considered, it's a hell of a portfolio. Having Hungarian ancestry/lineage was even considered a bit of an inside joke in Hollywood during the early years. There's a popular myth about a large sign that used to figure on most studio lots in the 1930's that read "Being Hungarian will only get you half of the way, you also need talent".

This whole Hungarian connection is of course a little more than an amusing curiosity to me; it's not like I'm pounding my chest now, thinking that I'm special somehow because of my heritage. It does however make for really interesting reading, and is a great source of entertainment to me. Don't get me wrong, there is a minimum of national pride in there; I like the fact that this relatively obscure culture has had such a tremendous (and practically invisible) impact on the last 1000 years of the world's history. It says something about Hungarian character, and goes far to redeem some of the less attractive facets of the "Magyar way". Patriotism an be a good thing, when carefully blended with awareness and accountability.

Isten aldd meg a Magyart

"To know a man, observe how he wins his object, rather than how he loses it; for when we fail our pride supports us; when we succeed, it betrays us. "

- Charles Caleb Colton

2006-07-06T12:59:00.000-03:00

I went down for a blogger's pow wow yesterday with some friends, and I had a pretty interesting conversation or two. I'm not sure that I am as full-on about my internet presence and marketing as most of those cats, but it was somewhat interesting to hear them talk about it. There seems to be a growing trend of "internet communities"; people getting together and doing more than just chatting. It's like a new kind of mini-business seminar, where people make contacts, talk about projects, albeit in a much more relaxed atmosphere. No suits or ties (for the most part), just a bunch of good-natured self-made types, that are eager to share their views and stories over cold pints of ale. Overall I found it quite fascinating, especially due to the apparent absence of the type of clubhouse elitism that we typically find in any "community".

One of the guys I chatted with asked me about my blog, and how I dealt with networking, and web presence-related things. I was bit at a loss, to be honest. I never looked at my blog as some kind of a real information source, or as an asset. In fact, I'm fairly certain that any such serious consideration would knock the wind out of my sails, and leave me scratching my head, when it came time to create a new post. The very fact that I have no business or moral responsibilities attached to this blog, is what makes it so refreshing to maintain. I'm not sure I would have anything particularly useful to say here, if I had to conform to some kind of journalistic principle, or promotional pursuit. The simple fact is that I do this because it's fun, and because I can think out loud a little bit every day; a small window of opportunity to be myself, without the usual conversational etiquette worries.

In other news, I've been coming across a lot of 9/11 conspiracy dvds and literature lately. I usually avoid this type of material because of the typical intellectual/emotional pitfalls that it entails, but lately my curiosity has gotten the best to me. I started with this docu called In Plane Sight , a hard-hitting look at some of the bizarre inconsistencies in the way the US government reported the events of 9/11. From considerable logical gaps in the official reports, issued by the press, to close examinations of actual news footage that we've all seen at some point or another. It's material that requires a kind of skeptical distance, but that is thought-provoking nonetheless. I am now quite certain, for instance, that the Pentagon was never hit with anything near the size of a transcontinental jet, and just the attack story as a whole stinks really fucking bad. Shouting "cover up!" is not even all that controversial, with the sheer amount of evidence that's (not) laying around.

Anyway, I didn't want to go political here, as I am aware of the can o'worms nature of this topic, but I still think that people should seek out this information, if for no other reason but to gain a more complete understanding of things. It's a draw-your-own-conclusions kind of situation in the end.

"When one admits that nothing is certain one must, I think, also admit that some things are much more nearly certain than others. It is much more nearly certain that we are assembled here tonight than it is that this or that political party is in the right. Certainly there are degrees of certainty, and one should be very careful to emphasize that fact, because otherwise one is landed in an utter skepticism, and complete skepticism would, of course, be totally barren and completely useless. "

- Bertrand Russell

2006-07-05T10:49:00.000-03:00

Okay, don't freak out. I'm going to talk about soccer one last time this week, and then you won't be likely to hear soccer-related blabbing on my part for at least another 4 years (or until next year's Euro Cup!). I'm sure some of you might have noticed that I was rooting for a certain Bavarian team, that shall remain nameless. All I have to say about yesterday is this: destiny had nothing to do with it. The better team did not win. The team that wanted it more was victorious; simple as that. The good thing about loving a sport (and a particular team) without the token fanaticisim that we often see in fans, is that you can let go when you team looses. No woe, no tears, no excessive drinking, etc. If anything, I have my life back now that the excitement is over, and I can get back to my real life. They had a good run, and provided me with some great moments. For that I am greatful. Better luck next time dudes.

In other nooze, I handed in my short screenplay to this buddy of mine a work (also named Jason), who's a wicked artist, and has volunteered to storyboard my little tale. I also may have found my lead man, but I'll have to screen test him before I can make a final decision. Now I need to find a couple of more guys, and assemble a skeleton crew. Things are moving along rather nicely.

That's all for today...

"Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat."

- Theodore Roosevelt

2006-07-04T12:47:00.000-03:00

Germany vs Italy is today at 3pm. I'm trying to get out of work early somehow. This is it people, the semi-finals! It goes without saying that I'm hyped up like a 12-year old at a Playstation 3 convention. Let's hope that infamous Germanic 4-4-2 formation holds against the Italians. Go team!

In other news, I'm getting fat, and it's driving me crazy. Not actually fat, just plumpy. It's not like I'm obsessed with my weight or anything, but all that Capoeira I used to do got me used to being in a certain shape, and now that I have let myself go a little, I'm freaking out at my present physical state. I've been putting off visiting this new group for the last month, but today I draw the line in the sand. This far, no further, as my favorite bald captain once said. I'm going to check that shit out tonight, come hell or high water.

Did I mention Germany was playing today?

raaaawr!

"One essential to success is that your desire be an all-obsessing one, your thoughts and aims be co-ordinated, and your energy be concentrated and applied without letup. "

- Claude M. Bristol

2006-06-30T15:00:00.000-03:00

Auf Wiedersehen Argentina!!!

2006-06-28T14:02:00.000-03:00

Okay, this project is on its way people. I actually got a head start last night; I just shut the lights off and sat by laptop light, pumping out the first draft of my screenplay. I'm pretty happy with the results so far. The story is simple and straightforward, albeit with a cool little twist. At first the idea was a little too whacky for me, but following some research and tinkering, I was able to make it into a kind of weird drama/comedy. I won't give too much away, but I will say that it involves strange little loophole in American penal legislature (cue dramatic music!). Next step is a shooting script, which means storyboard possibly, or some kind of a shooting plan where I work out the shot angles, and the rest of that fancy cinematography jazz. I'm a somewhat at a loss in terms of casting, for now. I need some actors that will really bring this fucker home. There's no dialogue, so I need "faces", as they say. People that will be able to convey a lot, in very little time. I want this to be solid, quality shit.

I actually planned this to be a 10 min short, so I'll probably cut a 90 second version of it to submit to the DepicT contest.

fun fun fun

"Acting is merely the art of keeping a large group of people from coughing. "

- Sir Ralph Richardson

2006-06-27T10:23:00.000-03:00

I'm making a super-mini-short film, and I think I'll start this weekend. My friend Ray turned my attention to an online minimalist short film competition, where participants have to put together a 90 second feature. That's 90 seconds to tell a story. I know what some of you are thinking, '"that's plenty of time, they do it with commercials all the time!". Well, that may be true, but commercials are one thing, and films are another. It's got to be more than just a gag or product placement. I would like it to be some kind of a visual mind-job, with a personal message in it, from me to the world.

I'm toying with a couple of ideas; I'd like to try something new, from a personal standpoint. Something that will throw off people that know me and my aesthetic. Something that is completely different from what people would usually expect from me, but that still contains elements that represent my "style".

Let the headscratching begin!

"I passionately hate the idea of being with it, I think an artist has always to be out of step with his time."

-Orson Welles

2006-06-22T10:37:00.000-03:00

Documentaries are getting really good lately. After Bowling for Colombine and F9/11, and a handful of other thought-provokers like What The Bleep, In Plane Sight and Crop Circles, there seems to be a growing trend to tackle actual important issues on a global scale. Regardless of what you think of Michael Moore (I almost called him Roger!), the one undeniable contribution he has made to documentary-making, is the injection of big studio budgets and distribution. Granted, digital technology, and its relative-low-cost and availability to the everyman, has given filmographers and activists a cleaner, more professional platform to convey their paradigms, but we cannot ignore the fact that big studio money has increased the exposure of these essays a millionfold, and brought some kind of new "awareness trend" into existence. More and more, people want to know about the things the news ignores (or glasses over). People want to hear different sides, new ideas, alternate theories; we are trying to become more skeptical. By "people" of course, I mean those of us that want to grow as individuals, those of us that want to broaden our perspectives of the world.

There are a couple of really interesting doc's coming out in theatres soon. I have to remember to put these ones on my to-see list.

Who Killed the Electric Car?
Apparently General Motors was going to have a massive launch for their first official viable electric vehicle (EV1 I think), until the head office called downstairs at the last minute, and all the cars were taken out to the desert and scrapped. Why did this happen? Very intriguing, I must say. Like most people, the absence of fully electric cars in this day-and-age is somewhat puzzling; with pollution and oil prices being high to the point of being criminal. I'm definitely curious to see what they have to say about that. This is the type of docu that is important, regardless of what point-of-view it champions.

Road to Guantanamo
This one tells the story of three British citizens that were inexplicably whisked off to Club Guantanmo, the not-so-secret US Army prison for people that the American government doesn't want to process legally. From countless human rights violations, to alleged tortures, to dozens of people being held without trial or formal charges, Guantanamo has become enough of an embarrassment (and atrocity) for even George Dubya to speak up about it. RtG is an intimate look at the testimonies of three people that were there for no discernible reason, and who are now free, years later, anxious to let people know what happened to them. This promises to be an eyebrow raiser, and its even likely to get a little media chaos going, if the masses react to it.

An Inconvenient Truth
Labeled as a "rallying cry", rather than a shock-doc, this much-talked about opus comes to us from the efforts of Al Gore, the man that should be president of the United States of America. Gore has been fighting to raise awareness about the systematic collapse of our ecology, and the growing threat of the extinction of our species, at the hands of our abject abuse and lack of responsibility. And the voters thought this guy was boring! He may not play the sax, get blowjobs in the oval office, or perpetually sound like he's recovering from laryngitis, but Al is a hellion when it comes to shit that actually matters. It's certainly not the first time we've been told to wake up and smell the toxic waste, but this time it might actually make some kind of a lasting impact. Yeah right...

You'll notice that I have ignored (and will continue to ignore) docu's like Flight 93 and World Trade Center, not only on the basis of the fact that they are propaganda pieced, disguised as journalism, but because I don't believe a single fucking thing that has been said to the public, since it happened.

"Skeptical scrutiny is the means, in both science and religion, by which deep insights can be winnowed from deep nonsense."

- Carl Sagan

"I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, intellect, would intend for us to forgo their use."

- Galileo Galilei

2006-06-21T10:13:00.000-03:00

I think it's safe to say, that I'm becoming somewhat of a minimalist, when it comes to my life, my art and my outlook. There's something so compelling about the concept of just stripping everything down to its essential components, and dispensing with the usual fanfare. Minimalism, albeit a term that is thrown around quite a bit these days, is actually not as fancy or poo-poo as the media would have you believe. Sure, it is often an aesthetic used by neo-intellectuals and weirdo Bjork back-up musicians (also IKEA), and thus it often viewed as a plaything for art snobs and furniture stores for the uber-rich.

The truth is that minimalism, while being typically a modernist paradigm, has actually been around since the founding days of our civilization, predominantly in old Japanese architecture. It's definitely the current vision of the future; this pearly-white-brushed-steel-lacquered-wood thing, with subtle geometric shapes for furniture, and invisible/integrated appliances and wireless-neon-highlighted electronics. I have seen the future people, and it looks like an ipod with fiber-optic tentacles, integrated into your genetic code.

From a philosophical/metaphysical standpoint, minimalism just makes sense to me. It's almost therapeutic to someone like me, who's constantly overloaded with ideas and imagination. Ealry in my individual development, this tendency to go overboard and get too passionate about things, basically resulted in a clutter in my artistic and day-to-day expressions. I wanted to say so much, that I'd end up saying too much, or tried to cover too much ground in one movement. Minimalism kind of crept into my consciousness at some random moment, and allowed me to begin diffusing the mess of ideas, to sort them out, to look for what's essential, and shave off the excess. Minimalism simply works on every level of life, and it's amazing. Apply it to anything and shit just starts to make sense.

Now I have to figure out how to get into Bjork's band. Maybe I'll take up the glass triangle or bring post-modernist underwater topperware drumming into the 21st century.

Now, play with my monkey!

"Skill without imagination is craftsmanship and gives us many useful objects such as wickerwork picnic baskets. Imagination without skill gives us modern art."

- Tom Stoppard

2006-06-20T11:43:00.000-03:00

Edmonton did not deserve the cup, the way they played last night. That is all I'll say in regards to that topic...

I've been playing around with the look of the blog, as you can see. I haven't decided if I'm going to be sticking with this design, but it does the job nicely for now I think. It's World Cup madness in the streets these days, and it's likely to get worse, now that hockey season is over (no one cares about baseball, NO ONE!). On a personal level, I'm behind Germany all the way, but I wouldn't mind seeing any of the Slavic teams take it this year. An African World Cup upset would be fucking sweet too, but that's like hoping that MC Hammer will come out of retirement, and become a heavyweight boxing contender. The reality and likelihood is high that Brazil will be bringing the cup home again this year, which makes Jason sad, because that means thousands of assholes blocking the streets again, honking, shouting, running wild like escaped lab experiments from 28 Days Later. That scenario goes double for any potential victory from Spain, or, my worst nightmare on earth, Portugal. As much as I love Latin peoples, they are unbearable when they win. And if they weren't bad enough, Montrealers, being the culturally-starved, confused poseurs, that they can be, are almost guaranteed to suddenly become Brazilians or Spaniards or whatever, when it's all said and done, and multiply the chimp-count tenfold. I realize how racist this all sounds, and to a certain degree, I suppose it is. But that's football for you kids; unabashed, shameless nationalist-driven hating, casually veiled behind the spirit of competition and sportsmanship.

Right now things are looking really good for Germany (yay!), and Argentina, while super teams Brazil and heavily favored Czech Repub. and England aren't dazzling the way they should be. It's still early, admittedly, but if things keep on this level, I might get to see my blackshirts finally take the gold. Why Germany, you might be asking? Well, I like their uber-man efficiency on the field, and enjoy their totally lack of humor, plus they're the closest thing to a Hungarian team that can make it. Hungary, despite being crazy for football, is on the lower end of pathetic, when it comes to the national team. Just plain sad.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to sipping some beer with my people this summer, watching the games, and making arrangements to be emergency air-lifted out of the city, should any of the the "wrong" teams win.

Deutschland!

"Sports serve society by providing vivid examples of excellence"

- George F. Will

2006-06-16T10:56:00.000-03:00

I have a huge day today. Gotta go to two different shows, and tape them for media press kit packages (which I may get to put together). In between those two tapings I have to sneak in an official dinner with the in-laws and my parents at some fancy pasta place, then get out and make my second appointment. If everything goes well, I should be comfortably drunk by midnight.

Tomorrow I take it easy, no matter what. Lisa and I ordered ourselves a brand new kick-ass stainless-steel fridge, which we desperately needed, after our little crapbox finally gave up the ghost. All my love goes out to the in-laws and parents for helping us pay for the damn thing!

I'm off!

2006-06-15T13:01:00.000-03:00

It's been a pretty loaded week for me and Lisa. She got back from her hometown Monday, after an arduous 4 days, dealing with her Aunt's funeral. Tuesday, Lisa's parents rolled into to town for a visit; it's always awesome to see them. I couldn't be luckier on that account. None of the traditional awkwardness or incompatibilities exist between them and I. Her mom is a sweetheart, her dad is awesome, and her granny is a sweetie. Of course having them over means a lot of people in the house (they're here until the weekend), which makes me a bit nervous, but not because I don't want them here. It's more of a stress related to being worried about their comforts; that they're having a good time, etc. I'm just not used to a big family, since I grew up with in a single-parent situation, with the rest of my blood being an ocean away.

The other part that has stressed me out a bit, is the fact that Lisa and I haven't had any real quality time to ourselves for almost 2 weeks. It's more than understandable, in light of the busy activity lately, but it till registers high on my "this-blows-meter". I miss her, despite the fact that she's at home. To make things worse, she's going back for an official family visit next weekend, and we'll be apart for another 7 days! There seems to be no end to this. I'm just feeling a little crabby about it all, I suppose.

Oh well, I guess I'll use this upcoming free time to get in some more BBQ part action, and work on my 10 million backburner projects. The show must go on!

"Intimate relationships cannot substitute for a life plan. But to have any meaning or viability at all, a life plan must include intimate relationships."

- Harriet Lerner

2006-06-14T12:37:00.000-03:00

Everyone has a darkness within them, that pulls at their moral fiber; a strangely essential component to their being, that helps balance out the inconsistencies of everyday life. Traditionally, we are raised to suppress that darkness, to resent it, to fight it at every turn. It's that taint that makes us lie to ourselves (and others), that black place in our souls that makes us contemplate doing bad things; the evil twin with the goatee and fiery eyes, inside us all. Despite what I have been told by society my whole life, I have grown somewhat fond of my darkside. Not to the point of embracing it, mind you, but just enough to realize that it is part of who I am, and to pretend otherwise, to imagine that it is only a weakness of character, would be short-sighted and foolish.

I have made a conscious effort to get to know my personal El Guapo, my Patrick Bateman. It has brought me a new understanding of the positive aspects of my personality. Contrasting and comparing is, after all, the mother of logical pursuits. More than anything, my bad-self has been a constant source of inspiration in my writing and visual art projects. It could be argued that pain, fear, dishonesty and resentment have been at the root of some of the most thought-provoking works of art. Most actors, musicians and artists that I admire, all seem to be (or have been) at odds with their demons. That, or their work reflected their internal conversations with those nefarious entities.

I think it's important for any artists to come full circle in those areas of their psyche, when seeking personal development. To look at the nasty things in you, the murky, vicious sides of your mind, and examine their nature. Often, I have found, that many of the so-called bad things in me are perversions, or corruptions of my positive behaviors. Being a social animal for instance, having a propensity for conversation and making your presence felt, can generally be looked at as a great positive trait. When you allow selfishness and arrogance to take the reigns however, it quickly becomes manipulation and duplicity. Where do should we draw the line, I wonder?

I guess in many ways I feel like an uber-Libra; constantly prone to looking at both sides of a situation, looking for the quiet compromise; the ultimate answer of answers. It doesn't work that way every time, of course. In fact, quite ironically, being the type of person that tries to see all sides of an argument, will end you with no real concrete answer of any kind. Or am I lying to myself? Do I really have the answer I seek, and I'm just not game enough to claim it as such, on the odd chance that I may be wrong? How easily the pretense of open-mindedness can lead to an ocean of bullshit.

But let's leave things on a positive note here. The opposite phenomenon is also a fairly common occurrence. Meaning that I can think of many of my more "roguish" traits that have often manifested during a time of crisis, and helped me come out on top. Fence-sitting, as uncomfortable as it can be, does have some incredible advantages, it terms of bringing clarity. Weighing everything ahead of time, has led me, over the years, to no small amounts of pocket realms of wisdom.

I think too much...

"Fundamentally, I am made up of parts that disagree; conceived by anecdotes and happenstance, ruled by moral codes and compassion, tempered with flawed logic, and fiercely driven by passion and idealism."

- me

2006-06-13T12:16:00.000-03:00

I might of sounded a tad on the nihilistic side in my post yesterday. It happens; we all get a little overwhelmed by the crapulence in the world around us, from time to time.

I had a cool chat with my boy Jean the other evening, about the merits of sci-fi as literary genre, and about its significance as a tool, for increasing awareness (or resentment) of the society we have built. Sci-fi is often misunderstood by the media, and people in general. It is either considered to be the realm of pocket-protector-wearing-message-board geeks, or conversation fodder for Pure-and-Applied graduates and reclusive chaos theorists. There's a kind of xenophobia that exists around sci-fi that makes the average person dismiss it as fluff, or as work that is not serious, because it deals with fantastical elements.

It's a shame really, like cyberpunk, sci-fi, in my opinion, is the ultimate platform for the exploration of relevant social themes, examinations of the human psyche, the patterns of communication, the impact of impending technological breakthroughs. Sci-fi, in many ways has influenced the way that I tackle conversations with people; I often relate to abstract or fantastical imagery to illustrate my point. It's almost magical in it's simplicity to convey understanding or meaning, while also providing entertainment. Sci-fi is the total package from that perspective.

As a writer, I have tried to tackle this genre a few times, albeit unsuccessfully (or rather, not to my complete satisfaction). I think a certain level of maturity is required to write convincing or compelling science-fiction. You need to have seen a bit of the world, to have tasted it. Most importantly, you have to possess some kind of a opinion about the way of the world, some form of need to theorize, to debate the pros and cons. Unlike cyberpunk, the author's view need not be dystopian or grim, although we're seeing a growing trend of sarcasm and social commentary in recent sci-fi heavy-hitters (Battlestar Galactica, Firefly). Sci-fi give the opportunity to be as optimistic or doom-n-gloom as one wishes to be, as long as one provokes some kind of mental process.

In theory that is...

"If we have learned one thing from the history of invention and discovery, it is that, in the long run - and often in the short one - the most daring prophecies seem laughably conservative. "

- Arthur C. Clarke

2006-06-12T11:01:00.000-03:00

The more I think about it, the more I become thoroughly and completely convinced, that barring any miraculous revolutions in our collective thinking, or direct and unmistakable intervention by a omnipotent higher entity, we (the race of men) are fucked. Proper fucked, as the character Turkish liked to say in Snatch. I don't mean to be pessimistic, really I don't, but it's getting harder and harder to ignore the signs of the coming downfall.

I'm not talking about downfall in a Terminator 3 kind of way, but rather of an unravelling of the fabric of our society (and a soiled fabric it is). We have completely lost our way, to say nothing of our minds. Our way of life is almost purposefully at odds with anything that could be construed as steming from reason. It's like a car that's turned down a dark alley, and it keeps slamming into the brick wall, hoping that things will bottom out, despite the fact that the sign clearly says "dead end". I know it sounds like I'm becoming one of those doomsday sandwich bums, with the crazy beard and the bell, but I'm actually trying to get to a point here.

So how do we fix things? Can they be fixed at all? Do we even know what's really wrong with the word? Do we have it in us to change? Would we know what to change, and when? A million questions that have plagued the minds of that handful of wonderful individuals, that keep trying to figure out a better way. For my part, I can easily point to some factors that have, without a doubt, contributed to our decadence. The funny thing is that we keep saying things like "decline" and "degradation", as if our world had somehow been pure at some magical period of our the past history. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't we spend the opening years of our existence as a race, cracking each other in the head with rocks, and fighting over fire? As far as I know, our current way of life is a fucking utopia, compared to the putrid, festering bunghole that was the world of our ancestors.

What I'm getting at, is that our physical way of life, while not perfect by any means, is still a considerable improvement over the old ways (except aboriginal ways, perhaps). The real damage, the real degradation is spiritual; we are witnessing the gradual demise of our minds, and therein lies the true threat of extinction. I'd like to believe that we cared about each other, once upon a time. If not in a "kumbaya" kind of way, than in some fundamental human manner. I'd like to think that humans used to admire and strive for spiritual and intellectual achievement; we used to want to grow. I don't see that in our present society.

Maybe I'm fooling myself. Maybe things have always been this way; one handful thinks and deliberates, another covets power and rulership, while the masses of men shamble along in whatever direction the wind blows. Maybe that's why so many people are upset at the vile treatment of our cattle. Maybe we don't like how much they remind us of ourselves, of the system that we have assimilated into our genetic code. So if the past is like the present, and only the details have changed, I have to ask myself whether it is truly progress that we're yearning for, or if we're just desperate for a new winamp skin, to update the same diseased way of life that we have perpetuated since our conception? How can we fix something that has been deliberately promoted and supported by the collective consciousness of billions, since the dawn of our time?

Personally, I can think of one way. We could burn the whole goddamn fortress into white ash, and start over.

A total revolution of the mind and body.

fire it up...

"Justice is the end of government. It is the end of civil society. It ever has been and ever will be pursued until it be obtained, or until liberty be lost in the pursuit."

- Alexander Hamilton

2006-06-09T11:45:00.000-03:00

GAME ON!

2006-06-07T12:09:00.000-03:00

Been a while since I've put something up. I've been submerged at work, running around like a headless chicken, thus resulting in my being completely drained at the end of the day. By the time I get out of here at 5pm, the only thing I can will myself to do, is too drink beer with friends, or go home, and drown myself in Playstation 2 games. It's a phase I'm going through (hopefully).

Some crappy news from the homeland yesterday. My cousin's wife has an identical twin sister, and her husband (whom she just had a baby with) drowned in a boating/rafting accident last week. This blows in a major way, for all parties involved. A young woman is now a widow, a newborn baby is now fatherless, and a whole bunch of people are heartbroken. Word is that my cousin spent that night canvassing the river, looking for him, trying to get to him before it was too late. Knowing my cousin, this must be hitting him quite hard.

I didn't really know the guy, but I can certainly empathize with what's happened. Like my friend Naomi was saying, the wife must be feeling all kinds of pissed and sad at her late husband. Sad for obvious reasons, but pissed at the fact that he decided to indulge in what's considered to be, a dangerous hobby. He should of been more responsible, I think is the prevailing thought. Responsible in the sense that could have shelved the whole endeavor, and opted for something less hazardous to do on a weekend. I think a lot of people don't think these things through; the sacrifices we have to make when we found a family (and have kids) . We should re-evaluate all aspects of our lives. I'm not saying that a person should give up living and having fun, just because they decided to reproduce. I'm saying that a sensible person should sit down with their partner, and try to make some realistic adjustments to their lifestyles, that (god forbid) might benefit the baby, and keep the family prosperous.

Like drinking all night? Have a beer once in a while, or get shitfaced at a friend's house, while someone reliable is taking care of your child. Like extreme wilderness sports? Go hiking/camping, or get a fucking Playstation 2. Your kid needs you, and he/she's your priority for at least the first 18 years of their lives. You can't prepare for everything in life, but you can at least make a conscious effort to minimize the chaos, so that if you end up bitting the dust (knock on wood), no one will be thinking Darwin Awards.

Poor fucking guy...

"Character - the willingness to accept responsibility for one's own life - is the source from which self respect springs. "

- Joan Didion

2006-06-01T11:56:00.000-03:00

Another short story by me. It's part one of a three-part series that got pretty good reviews on urbis.

Gunmetal Gray (Act I)

Anyone will tell ya, no matter if they’re Johnny Joblo or Jean-Claude Van Blam, that when you’ve got a few bullets in you, a bad left knee, a 4-alarm headache, and you’re surrounded on all sides by narcotic-enhanced Yakuza stormtroopers, dug in behind a row of black sedans right outside your apartment building, fully intent on contributing to your lead-count, well, things just might not work out according to your retirement plan. But then most thugs haven’t had their bodies enhanced with the latest in military-grade Korean Shadoware, or their hand-eye coordination and motor-reflexes tweaked to the apex of human potential. Of course what the military eggheads don’t tell you, is once you’ve signed on for one of their quaint little government programs, that expose you to that kind of serious biotech, you’ve pretty much signed away your polymer-reinforced behind to the Prince of Darkness and all of his shareholders.

What were my options really? I had broken every regulation the military had regarding the rules of wartime conduct, and even the Salvation Army wasn’t going to hire me after that little fiasco in Nicaragua, a few years back. If you ask me though, those drug-smuggling-rapist-Che-wannabees got everything that the Good Lord intended, but I digress. Blood loss will do that you know? Make you digress. That, and make you really nostalgic all of a sudden. I can’t stop thinking about french fries; the way they taste when they’re half-chewed and you wash ‘em down with a cold splash of beer, while you watch a game of Spikeball with the fellas in the mess hall. Oh great, I’m drifting off now. Okay, okay, keep it together Private(or is it keep your privates together?) Man, I’m loosing it! Okay, back to our regularly-scheduled program, but first, a word from our sponsors…

I smash another lobby window with the butt of my Scrambler II machine-pistol, and re-assert my unwillingness to cooperate with my aggressors, by putting a post-modern finish on their lead vehicle. The windows don’t pop like in the movies though; damn sugar-composite safety-glass they put in vehicles now has taken all the drama out of a good inner-city firefight.
The Yakuza, for their part are nothing if not courteous, especially when it comes to returning favors. I duck behind a surprisingly-resilient soft drink machine and close my eyes while the shredded plaster and sythetic paneling rains down on me, like confetti at an Italian wedding. They’re packing jacketed hollow points, those godless animals. I take a moment to thank the fine makers of Supa Slurp dispensers for providing me with cover, and decide that my only recourse is to move to higher ground. But then the Yaks will move inside, and dig themselves in deeper. I’ll need a low-yield tactical nuke to flush them out. That option might actually make sense, once the morphine from my field patch finally decides to kick in.

No, I have to take the fight to them somehow. Yeah, that’s it, they never expect that! You know why? Because running out into the waiting arms of a Japanese mafia hitsquad, with hoop-dreams of tagging them all in the head before a single one got a round off, is crazier than sitting front-row at a Brazilian soccer game final, wearing the visitor’s colors.

Still, I have to lift this siege somehow, and the time is definitely now. Just then, the sedative washes over me like a warm blanket. Suddenly it things don’t matter all that much. So what if I’m outgunned and outmanned? I’ve been in worse jams than this. Like the time in Laos, when I had to crawl seven clicks with a severed artery and a pack of hellhounds on my six. Or the time Dane Meztger threw me out of a chopper, for making a few out-of-place comments about his gypsy heritage. No, the frontal assault is not going to work out after all. I’ll have to take them topside, and sort things Chuck Bronson-style…

2006-05-30T11:03:00.000-03:00

Simulated violence is my crack-cocaine. I love it, always have. By simulated violence, I mean the kind of imaginary bloodshed and destruction that only role-playing and video games can provide. Wanton, unadulterated synthetic annihilation. This should make me a disturbed individual, according to popular pop psychology lore, but if you're like me, you know that there much more to it than that.

In an age where bad parenting (or lack-thereof), and juvenile delinquency are typically attributed to our children's exposure to negative television programming, and violent video games, I submit they are not necessarily so (especially in the latter case). I grew up in the mid-to-late 80's, which means that I was exposed to some of the most violent movies ever made. Movies like Terminator, Predator, Robocop, and a plethora of action-comedies, where the bullets flew faster than lewd jokes and gratuitous sex. Ok, so video games weren't that realistic looking yet, but if some of you will recall, the first blockbuster arcade games were beat-'em-ups like Double Dragon, Bad Dudes, and Shinobi. My point is that I got an eye/brain-full of mindless violence and carnage as a kid, and as far as I can tell, I still turned out to be a sensitive (and sensible) individual, who embraces a largely pacifist philosophy.

So how do we explain this contrast between what I am, and what I've been exposed to? Very simple; the key is in establishing barriers and clear operational definitions. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that confused operational definitions are at the root of every communication break-down in our society. The problem is not the violence, it's distinguishing make-believe form reality. I think I established that separation sometime early in my development as an individual; I drew lines in my thinking, established where what should be attributed, and why. It became cemented in my head, that slaughtering evil ninjas with a deadly flurry of shurikens, and pelting the neighbor's kid with rocks, didn't fall into the same category.

These crucial divisions make all the difference. Once you've drawn the lines, the world is a different place. I would go so far as saying that violent games are probably a healthy thing, when put into the right perspective. The idea being, that in an otherwise warped society, saturated with contradictions, emotional repression and counter-intuitive media indoctrination (consumerism), a little pixelated mayhem is just what the doctor ordered. I'm sure it has cut down on the amount of postal-worker-related shootings, at the very least(I think).

So in the end, maybe it does come down to parenting, to teaching. Establishing clear distinctions between what's real and what's simulated. The subtle art of bringing understanding to the lines that divide us from stimulus-crazed neo savages, and intellectually active, discriminating individuals. One can always hope that this kind of thinking will prevail, one fateful day.

One can always hope...

"It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence."

- Mahatma Gandhi

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