those wacky kids

First thing this morning, I was going to post here how I was able to keep up with Kate and her friends last night.

I was going to say that I drank half a case and played drinking games (and totally made up a great rule in Sociables that made everyone drink whenever I drank, and it stood!).

The story was going to include the fact that the kids didn't believe I was 24, thinking I was on coop, still in school.

I was going to say I got home très late and planned on gunning it today on three hours of sleep.

I would have told you all this this morning, except I neglected to set my alarm clock. Bad news: I slept in. Good news: I got to sleep in. More good news: I missed the rain this morning. Everything's coming up Milhouse!

And with that, I'm off to Montreal this weekend for a beach party and the end of Pride Week. Pictures and stories to follow. In the meantime, do some reading on the side.

proud

Well, Divers/Cité was a blast. The whole weekend was a blast. Highlights include:

• Michael: this is my friend Ryan, in from Ottawa. And at the back of the bar is Talmadge, my, uh.. Spencer: Bottom!
• I got asked numerous times if I was gay, or, my favourite (upon returning) "that way". Two of these inquiries were from friends, one who got in trouble for being flirty from H when we were dating! Bah.
• The Parade was amazing (800,000 people! 30 blocks, two sides, average 8 people deep!), but I unfortunately missed the Hot Lesbians Kissing Right In Front Of Me And Possibly Involving Me float. However, the San Francisco Pride showed up, standing on the back of a truck yelling "San Francisco Pride says FUCK GEORGE BUSH!" every now and then.
• While making out with a (young, cute) girl (at a gay bar), it occured to me that I really, really want a girl who knows how to kiss properly, or is willing to learn. That has become a definite. Kissing is always fun, but it is really amazing when both parties know how to properly do it.
• L is now jealous that I have been involved in a manwich and she has not, presumably because a) I'm younger, and b) I'm male. I told her tough.
• I am still walking around with a faded pride flag tattoo on my arm. The consequences of this did not occur to me until I had walked around most of my floor twice and returned to my office and only then looked down at my arm.

That's all. Well, not all, but enough. Pictures to possibly follow, we shall see. I want to find a good gallery tool first. Any suggestions?

good morning

For the last month that I have been biking to work, there's been an old Chinese woman standing at the last major intersection before my work. The bus she is waiting for does not appears often - once an hour in the morning and evening for the rat race crew, and only two or three times in the intervening hours. I don't know exactly how long she waits for this bus (it's at least half an hour, I do know that, having passed her at that occasion a few times), but she stands (or sits) there every day, holding her umbrella. Sometimes it's open (like today) to protect from the rain, sometimes it's a shield from the sun, most of the time it's tucked under her arm.

The first couple times passing by her, I just rode on by. I ride by fives of people every morning, nothing big. She's just waiting for a bus today. However, as day by day she was there, I began to smile at her as I went by, alas, receiving a muted menacing look back. WTF?

But, as time went on, she started smiling back, so I started saying good morning as I went by with a smile. And she, in time, returned the favour. Both of us are there every morning, rain or shine. It's almost a ritual. Sometimes she's facing away and turns when she hears "Good morning!" from behind her. It's comforting, a boost at the end of a long ride in the morning, getting me through the last couple kilometers.

Every good relationship has been built on a smile. And every bad one needs it.

cargo fever

"This program brought to you by Old Navy. Catch cargo fever!"

I had cargo fever once. Well, I had a fever after I got my cargo. One monkey. It was worth it though. Reenacting the civial war was just so cool. Well, until the monkeys started hurting people.

And that's when the CHUDs came after me.

jaime

I first met Jaime about a year ago while visiting Montreal. A friend of a friend. He was a chef at Newton, Jacques Villeneuve's restaurant, which was impressive enough to me - I had never met a professional chef before.

But that wasn't what struck you about Jaime. Oh, it was part of who he was for sure - the guy has done a lot in his life, and has done most of it by being in front of a grill in one place or another. From Vancouver to Halifax, he's done everything from wash dishes to run a restaurant (he did both, and everything in between, at a restaurant in Vancouver). And he continues it at home, or even visiting a friend's - he's like MacGyver in the kitchen, able to create a delectable meal out of whatever's sitting around. And he still watches the Food Network with the fervor of an entertaining housewife eager to surprise her guests. He had an offer for head chef at a new restaurant in Victoria, the potential beginnings of a chain, but turned it down because Victoria was too boring for him.

But that's not what's cool about Jaime. He taught himself to play guitar and has played in bands ever since. Guitar led him into bass, which he is currently trying to locate a band for (he got turned down for one for being 'overqualified' while I was out there). He's drank and partied with the best, and the rest (one of the best being The Real McKenzies). He's done his fair share of drugs (and probably mine too), but never got into IV. He lived for a period amonst the worst Vancouver has to offer, and saw what happens. He saw himself heading there, and pulled himself out of that vicious circle. He saw the cocaine IV addicts who shot up every ten minutes, who had so many tracks in their arms that they had to look in the mirror in order to not put the needle too far into their neck.

Though all of this makes for a good story, it is not why Jaime stands out to me. No, Jaime has assimilated all of the lessons he has learned and has taken them all to heart. That is what impresses me the most. He knows to have fun, but not too much fun. He loves being a musician, but has a backup plan. He loves being a cook, but has a serious passion about something else. He's learned that it isn't worth stressing over, there's always something worse, and someone who has it much worse. He instinctively takes care of his friends, and is quite adept at making new ones. When I asked him what he'd do if he won the lottery, meaning free and clear, he said, "Invest it." 100% serious.

Jaime has found the balance between his youth and adulthood, and has been able to perform the rare feat of applying what he has learned to his life, while still putting himself in situations that he can learn these lessons from. He also has a thousand stories that allow others to learn from his experience too. This is why seeing Jaime for me is not only fun, it's a pick-me-up and a learning experience. I have a few people like this in my life, and it is always such a joy to see them.

I hope you know someone like this too.

i'm a what?

I got called a metrosexual tonight. That's right, a fashionable, straight male who's not afraid to pamper himself. Good? Well, yeah. Sorta. It's nice to think that I have a good sense of style and look good, and I do take a certain pleasure when a girl looks at me.

However, I don't like the implications.

They're defined by their consumerism. Clothes. Pampering. Grooming products. Fitness club. Not my thing, as such. Not any more. And plastic surgery? ?! I mean, I'd love to get rid of my love handles, but I'm doing it the proper way - through diet and exercise. And study after study has shown that liposuction is taking your life into your hands. Sheesh.

I do like the compliments, though.

I'm more inclined to believe dong's definition, really.

But really, $100 T-shirts? $300 pants? Nope. I like my $4 undershirt and $20 cargo shorts. If girls don't like me in that, tough.

It's kinda weird to be referenced as an example of something you have tried to reject.

resolution

Cusp. noun. A transitional point or time.

A number of lengthy conversations this weekend threw me for a loop. Mostly about who I am and what I want and the purpose of my actions. I had a very long conversation with L about career aspirations, life goals, lifestyle choices, and what I'm going to do. It served to confuse me, as I began questioning why I seemed to be rejecting the future of stability. I couldn't answer that question with a sufficient answer, I just felt that it wasn't right.

Talking with another today helped me to understand why I was feeling how I was feeling. Everyone is a creator in their own right. Some create art, some create music. Some create programs, some create policy, and some create destruction. Some create life, some create order, others create love. Whatever it is, everyone has a creative spark somewhere, and that creative spark is what keeps us going. Many people nurse their sparks as hobbies. Some are as lucky as to make a career out of their spark, creating a roaring fire out of their love for their craft.

Some, however, let it die, and in doing so, they die. Oh, not literally, but you can see it in their eyes - they don't feel anymore. They've lost that spark of exhuberance, of enjoyment - their lives are the exact same, day in, day out, and they take no pleasure of it anymore.

Everyone knows these people. What happened to them? They forgot why they were doing it. That was what H & I realized today - you have to remember why you are doing what you are doing. Why did you go to school? To make money. But you can make money washing dishes! OK, to make more money. And why do you want to make more money? To enjoy life, to have nice things, to support a family... These were my answers a few years back.

Now, however, everything is different. Eventually, I will want the stability. But, like the motto reads above, right now I want the experience. I want my finger in every pie and to be eating two more. I want to know everything about everything else, and I want to gain that knowledge as close to first-hand as possible. I want to be in other places - I don't want to settle down. I haven't found the girl who will satisfy me yet - I don't know if she even exists at this point (I'm very picky right now).

However, these things don't come easy (or, generally, cheap). But, I discovered today, if I can ask myself, "Why am I doing this?", and respond with a valid answer that I can accept, then I can be at peace with myself. I don't have to feel like I am selling my soul, and I can still achieve my dreams. I am just using a tool to do so. And I can continue to create in my own way. Dreams, music, photography, and, most importantly, hope in others.

And, still, someday maybe I can achieve this.

indicators

Spam.

Over 11 million people have taken this test!

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To :editor-sthncghsqgnyp@eros.rbmailsystems.com

From: Ryan
Subject : Re: How close are you to being a genius?

Thank you for sending me this, but the combination of my continued use of hotmail and signing up for your service in the first place is, in my opinion, enough of an indicator of my intelligence. Let me know if you have a test for something fun and useful, like How Close Are You To Being Fired?

Best wishes.

****

Who would choose 80 anyway? You know what 80 is considered? It's slightly above learning disabled. Good luck if you check that one, bucko. However, you can get better - IQ isn't a good measure, even according to its creator.

Some quick facts about IQ and other stuff:

Licking the wall is generally bad for your IQ.

Boobs are good for your IQ.

when daddy hits mommy, i get dummer.

revisiting

Ha!

Funny. I post about two issues (in the same post, no less!) two weeks ago, and boom! I find more justification today. Well, yesterday too.

Gigli has turned out to be a flop of the biggest caliber imaginable. It's the worst movie at IMDB. The weekend after it came out, some quick calculations showed that attendance was about 10 people per theatre. The Morning News had a side headline yesterday that said that had dropped to three. Three, people. I get more readers per day than that, and I'm only on one screen.

Also in that entry, reflection on the sudden 'gay is the new black' syndrome. This article gives a much more articulate version of the warning I projected - that people are not necessarily accepting the gay male, but the stereotype. Shmomosexuals are much more prevalent. I know a lot more of the stereotype type right now, because that's the age I'm at. However, once they hit 40, they disappear. And what about those who don't want to live the lifestyle. Who want the ordinary life, except to get married to Stan instead of Mary? The article finishes perfectly:

Congress will return to work and the right-wing stink tanks will start churning out the propaganda. And there is no hairstyle or stick of Ikea furniture that can protect us then; it’ll mostly be us nursing America’s belligerent hangover, because it’s mostly, in the end, just us who are out there.

It's true. Lesbians, while still generally enjoyed by those who buy the Girls Gone Wild videos, are no longer as chic as they were even a year ago. Gay is in, girls, but not your gay. And just like your trend, it too will soon be a passing fad. Except for those who are left to live with it, because it always was theirs, and will continue to be.

suburbia/middle of nowhere

Combine the two, and what do you get? Lost.

It was horrible. Went for my normal bike ride at lunch, thought, coming back, "Oh, I'll just take a jaunt through this housing community. It's new, it's small, this sign with the arrows looks just like one I passed on the other side, so obviously this is the same street!"

ha.

So after both reaching the edge of the developement and realizing that somehow, the path had turned me 180º around, I hung my head and went back the way I came. I almost took another 'shortcut'.

I wasn't lost. I was exploring.

However, what baffles me about this is that this is a new development, approximately 5 km south of where I work, which is 2 km south of what could be really called the edge of the city (at that point). My work is almost the closest thing to this place - a few isolated houses, that's it. A town further south of it, like 10 more kilometres. And then this development. Where everything looks the same. Yes, it's suburbia. I've never liked cookie cutter houses.

Add another check next to them on the list, I guess.

interwhat?

You know, most of my offline friends (now there's a term that classifies not them, but me) know me as someone who can find most anything online. If I can't, then I know someone who can.

However, do you know what this is?

<3

Until I read this (which is, incidentally, quite funny), I never did. Maybe an ass or something.

Apparently, it's a "heart". Whatever that is.

Reminds me of the time when I actually realized what the phrase "second to none" actually meant. At the age of 17.

If you'll excuse me, I like to pet nice things. You know, you got real purdy hair.

ah crap

About an hour ago, the lights went off at work. Weird, but they flash here a lot. My computer's on a UPS, so it stayed on. I just waited, lights came on 15 seconds later. Blah.

Then I check out the CBC's news page.

At first, I'm baffled by the second story. Ha! Someone screwed up! Not like they've never had confusing headlines or mislinked stories before. 911, eh? Silly, don't they know the real number, not the one for suckers?

Then I read the first one. And realize what happened. And check CNN, and the Globe and Mail.And then read about traffic snarls. And then think about the intelligence of going out tonight, and how my grocery shopping may be severly reduced today, which is a scenario that can suce ma cou, as I am out of food in a major way. And it sheds light on the second story.

Which, upon revisiting the page fourteen minutes later, no longer exists. Damn. I should've taken down the address. Oh well, this is all the proof you get. I'm not crazy, I tell you!

The worst would be stuck in the trains in Toronto, or being in NY in general, what with the panic and all. I'm sure Julie is semi-fucked for today. Maybe the Chief Retardation Officer of NY really does have it in for her.

Well, I'm off to deftly weave through a merciless traffic mobocracy.

quiet

If there was ever a 'best' day to own a bike, yesterday was it.

On my 10 km ride home, I passed a line of traffic that was at least 3 km long (and this was out in the burbs. I heard about downtown and laughed...). I passed through every light (hitting it just as the cars going my direction started moving).

The only bad thing was no groceries. My supper consisted of canned peaches, peanuts, bread, and a two or three month old coconut, which I think is the cause of my staying home today (stomach pains). I assume so anyway. I don't think I'm pregnant.

But so many goods: I actually sat and chatted with the new roommate, played a game of crib with him (which, for a rookie, he played very well). Went outside and looked at the stars from inside the city - so beautiful. Saw a late piece of the Perseides fly overhead, and even faint remnants of the Northern lights - more the graceful ballet they tend to perform. Mars and the moon were the brightest thing the eye could see. Couples were out on walks, kids in the playgrounds, families sitting on stoops, decks, front and back steps. Lots of reading. Plenty of talking. Candles and flashlights bouncing around. The conversation stoppers were gone, banished for a short time. For one night, life slowed down. And it was good.

think about it

It's stupid to call this a crisis when you consider that approximately one quarter of the Earth's population doesn't have power in the first place.

me-andering

This weekend of power outages and survival has helped clue me in to two things (well, they could be called one, but one thing isn't a list. Two isn't really either, but it's better than one):

1) We really are incredibly dependent on electricity, as a society. With the loss of power, people are at a loss to do.

2) This dependence creates both a sense of entitlement and a lack of common sense (not necessarily mutually exclusive either). In some senses it's good, but it also makes me look at disgust at how we treated people in the past (and continue to do so today).

To expand on #2: there was a fire in Ottawa caused by someone trying to cook french fries on the BBQ with cooking oil (of course, no link. Shit.) Really, how dumb can you be? People just don't think about what they do anymore. It really makes me angry.

And taking things for granted? Biggest thing here: air conditioning. All of the federal service workers have the day off today, as offices have had their AC turned off to conserve power. Sure, there's some tall buildings out there. Yes, they will be quite warm. No, the elevators aren't working (so what?). And still, do the restaurants close when the kitchens get warm? Excuse me for a moment - HA! Yeah, right. It angers up the blood to think that as a society, we treat these people as less deserving of comfort. Unions are great, but it's still a classist system - I have a better job, I deserve more comfort.

However, when I ponder things like this, I feel guilty. Here I am, sitting in my room, doing nothing but bitch about perceptions. Am I doing anything to change them? Not really. There's people giving up their apartments to protest homelessness legislation in Ontario. Now that's action.

I complain about comfort levels, but I'm not sure if I could give up my own. I still feel that want to be comfortable, but I feel guilty in doing so. Does everyone feel this? Do you trade it in at some point, or give up on it? Part of me still wants to do the crazy things, totally out of this world, rebellious. Sell some stuff, loan out the rest, pack stuff in a bag, and climb on a bus. I keep getting these feelings.

I feel cast adrift. I find solace in my friends and family, the fact that they care for me and still will no matter what I choose to do, weird as it may seem.

I am invincible.

I am tiny.

I am.

on a lighter note

Blueberry jam (jelly?) is the new crack.

For me, anyway. Yum.

a lesson on power consumption, or why the power goes out in the summer

You know, everyone's parents do cool things every once in a while. Mine finally came through with some interesting information. Love ya, dad.

So, a friend asked me the other day, "Why do we only have power failures in the summer? Why don't we hear about blackouts and reducing the use of furnaces in the winter?" I was puzzled, so I asked my dad (he still knows a lot of things, and though it is not everything as I once thought, it's still more than I know). The reason?

Basically, it's the mid- and southern US of good ol' A. See, in the summer, everyone and their dog is hot. And down there, it's not just hot, it's HOT. So of course all of the air conditioners and dehumidifiers and 'momma's sweat blaster' and all other types of fans are turned on everywhere. Texas, Ohio, Washington, Alberta, Ontario, Newfoundland, and maybe even in the North-West Territories. (I think it can get warm there).

So with all this power being consumed, of course on the really hot days, we're going to run into the red. And if one little thing goes wrong....KABOOM! One little incredibly simple, incredibly vulnerable thing like a transmission line or three. (more on that later)

Now, in the winter, while we up here freeze our asses off and crank the heat up into the red and sigh as our family starts on fire, our southern neighbours get that feeling outside. If I went to Texas and started looking for the furnace, people would think I was out of my mind. I'm sure even in the mid-US, people turn on the furnace for the one customary day of the year just to make sure they work. So the North American grid isn't as hard pressed as it is the summer, even though the Canadian part of it may be taxing it more than they would in the summer (my own home province uses a little more in the winter than in the summer). Plus, in some areas, there is a fair amount of electrical heating (instead of, say, natural gas). However, that backup is there if it is needed, which is good, because in the summer, you can just go outside if it's getting really hot, find some shade, drink some water, and you'll generally be OK. In the winter, you can't do that. You have to burn things.

Now, you may be asking, "Well, why don't we have safeguards to prevent things like this happening in the summer?" Of course, you may be asking, "Where's my Tab?" I don't have an answer to that one, but I can take a crack at the former one. You see, there are. However, they're tailored to a certain limit on the power (transmission) line. If you go over that limit (which you can do), the safety doesn't work anymore (surprise!).

OK, well that's all well and good, but what does that have to do with the price of tea in China? Not much, but it does have something to do with the price of your electricity. Or rather, the profit in the company's pocketbook. You see, ever since more and more electrical providers have been privatized, there has been more of a push for profit. More bang for your (their) buck. What's the easiest way to do that? Well, send more power down the line without spending more to do so (ie building new lines). It's sending twice as much of your product to your customers, taking twice as much money, but not having your costs rise! Sweet!

Of course, it's like sending all this product out with drivers who drive 150 km/h everywhere with no insurance. Eventually, it's going to catch up with you.The electrical grid in North America has been built/altered so that this isn't supposed to happen, because everyone's supposed to stay within their limits so that they can accept extra load for a little while if part of the system goes down. But if everyone is at max already, well, then suddenly your products has no one to move it.

Now, obviously this is what someone (or many someones) was doing that caused this whole kerfuffle. In this case, it seems to be FirstEnergy (a privatized, investor-owned utility) who was caught. However, the investigation should reveal a whole bunch of interesting information about everyone else doing this.

One good point that this also brings up is the vulnerability of transmission lines. Sure, the government talks of terrorists taking out power stations, and that would be effective. But think of the trouble we had from a few transmission lines and a malfunctioning alarm system. If someone were to plant a few people in remote areas with a few sticks of dynamite or even a high powered rifle, theoretically, bad shit could go down.

Hey, I actually blogged something useful and original. Cool. Thanks, dad!

right and wrong

Wrong way to pour boiling water into a cup: pour it on your hand.

Right way to pour boiling water into a cup: pour it in the fucking cup.

Did you know you can hurt yourself making Jello? Cause you can.

welcome to the world of the real

First off, I know they're shunned by experienced bloggers, banished to the domain of livejournals and diaryland, but when I found this while looking through someone's archive, I absolutely had to take it and post it. Oh come on. Indulge me.

You are The Merovingian, from "The
Matrix." Wit and danger, with a French
twist. You are adamant about the slightly
materialistic things- power, wealth, posession.
Dominating, aren't we?



What Matrix Persona Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Plus I like the Merovingian. And it calls me senile!

*********

In other news, mountain biking is the new black. Check out my war wound. I fell wiped out completely twice, the first time really knocking the wind out of me. Took two hits to the boys from the crossbar (but I can still have children, I think), and soaked and muddied my shoes good in a bog.

I love it. I can't wait until I do it again. Besides, cleaning the wounds hurt more than inflicting them. If you're young, dumb, invincible, or a balanced combo of all three, go mountain biking.

Hell, go anyway. It's fun.

neal stephenson is my new best friend

Suddenly, they've been nailed with a spotlight so big and powerful they can't look anywhere near it.

Then it's dark again, and a gunshot from Vic's rifle is searing and reverberating across the water.

"Nice shooting, Vic," Fisheye says.

"It's like, one of them drug dealer boats," Vic says, looking through his magic sight. "Five guys on it. Headed our way." He fires another round. "Correction, four guys on it." Boom. "Correction, they're not headed our way anymore." Boom. A fireball erupts from the ocean two hundred feet away. "Correction. No boat."

I read Snow Crash many, many years ago, but had completely forgotten until I read it again. Even then, I remembered nothing, but various settings and character names shook cobwebs off of old memories. It was like meeting a kindergarten friend when you're turning 30. One that you liked, anyway. Not that girl who bit you and ate paste.

back in my day

I was going to talk about how I ate an entire watermelon by myself tonight (oink oink), but in chatting with my parental units about Saskatchewan politics, I found something a little more interesting. To me, anyway.

My brother (well, actually, my mom, but she passed the buck) went to a polling meeting (and earned himself a cool $50 - why does he always get these things?)* the other night. He came back complaining that it was political (one of my brother's least favourite topics) - a feeling out of the electorate as to when to call an election, amongst other things.

One of the other things, interestingly enough, was a call by the leader of the Opposition, Elwin 'I am a stupid git' Hermanson (as you can tell, I don't think much of the man. For good reason!) to reduce minimum wage, despite the fact that Saskatchewan ranks #6 out of 10 provinces in terms of minimum wage.

All of the invitees (which would've included my mother, who's celebrating the big 5-0 in less than a year) were in their late 40s or early 50s, according to my source in the matter. They didn't see a problem with this at all. My brother, whom I'm proud to say voices his mind at the right time (unlike his sibling, who sounds off whenever the hell he wants to) brought up the point that this would render those struggling into a destitute status. The countering argument? "Well, we did it when we were young!" I'm not kidding here.

And herein lies the problem. Minimum wage at the time they were my age (roughly) was $2.90 (sorta source). Now consider costs. Tuition? Their semesters costed less than one of my courses. A week of food was probably $5 or so. But today, in order to advance beyond that minimum wage, people need education (or years of solid work, but that won't get you a lot). Tuition is increasing by double digit percentages every couple of years. I don't even want to think what the kids starting university next month are paying compared to what I paid six years ago when I started post-secondary.

Once again (isn't it always the problem?), the electorate is out of touch with itself. Saskatchewan wants to experience a growth of its population over the next ten years. Good luck. I don't think they want more old people, but they're doing their best to drive away the young, such as myself.

What do you have to sell? Higher tuition? Shrinking tax base? Like many governments, the government of Saskatchewan has a lofty goal with no idea of how to go about reaching it. Not that Ontario is much better. Or Alberta (I could've told you deregulation was a bad idea in the first place, but nooooo, they had to learn for themselves...).

Saskatchewan is a place, like so many now, with a shrinking population and a youth that doesn't want what it has to offer. It's got too many personalities - one wants to attract the youth to perpetuate itself, another wants to coddle the aging electoral majority (which usually involves moves not in the interest of the first group there), and yet another one wants to get business in, regardless of the age. A balance is possible, but....this is government, remember?

Makes me kind of sad.

*He got pulled into a focus group for a drinking and driving ad once. It was for one of those urinal ads. All it was was a comparison between two ads. Both had a big (like, BIG) biker guy sitting in a jail cell, looking out at you. One said, "Drinking and driving can improve your sex life." The other said, "Drinking and driving can improve your sex life. Bitch." Guess which one him and his friends chose. And guess which one subsequently appeared on numerous walls over urinals in bars in my high class hometown. He wouldn't believe me until he saw it with his own eyes. Actually, I just really wanted a good lead-up to tell this story.

where's my hovercar?

So I'm reading 2061: Odyssey Three, and I come across this passage:

"I too take leave of all I ever had..." ... ...With no further clues, it might take the station Computer quite a while - perhaps as much as ten minutes - to locate the line in the whole body of English literature. But that would be cheating (not to mention expensive), and Floyd preferred to accept the intellectual challenge.

This is from a science fiction writer, envisioning a time almost 60 years in the future, in a society that's already mastered cryogenic freezing of humans for long-distance space travel, and has settled Ganymede.

Out of fun, I decide to try my station's computer. Farewell, by Robert Nichols. 0.28 seconds. And it was free!

This (obviously) leads me to the following question: Where is my hovercar? I'd even take a hoverbike, for cryin' out loud! Or a hoverboard. That'd be great. I'd be all zoom zoom and everyone would be all wow, he's cool and all the girls would be like swoon.

Wicked.

an open fuck you to fox networks

Dear Fox Networks,

You have the luck to employ a man who has created an animated program that can make me both laugh and cry, and then you have the idiocy to treat him like shit and cancel the show.

Fuck you.

It may sound stupid, but I am angrier at the you than I can remember being in a long time. I mean, you're a faceless corporate television network.

Nevertheless.

It was two weeks ago today that you aired the last episode of Futurama. Since the axe officially fell a couple months ago, the Cartoon Network has been reporting Futurama amongst the highest viewed programs in its lineup (#1 in June!). I went to buy the Season 2 box set yesterday. It was sold out at three major stores (it was supposed to be in the #1 spot, but they didn't have any to put there to display).

And you say you've got the market cornered on Fair and Balanced (even though you don't?)?

Fox Networks, I am a nice person. I am sometimes quite naive and forgiving, some people say too much. However, I feel a deep anger, maybe even hatred for you, for taking away something that I enjoyed so much. With the death of Futurama, I will not be watching much more television anymore. And I will quite definitely never be tuning into your network ever again.

And so, in closing, I can only offer you this benediction:

May your dreams appear to be coming true
Just before they fracture, turn to dust,
And choke your spirit, at the final hour of fruition.

May your heart engorge itself through and through,
Fill of hope and laughter, love and lust,
Then burst its vessels in a sudden change of its condition.

May your children live to be riteous men,
Wide of eyes and wisdom, seeing all,
And know your secrets and perversions, hating your relation.

May your life be full of hidden sin,
Shame, and lies, and cancers, painful falls,
And may your God be damned ashamed of you, his worst creation.

Fuck you,
Ryan Bird

i vant your blood

(I meant to write this last week, when I acutally had given blood. So sue me. It was those damn nerds!)

I gave my 37th blood donation yesterday. Giving every eight weeks on the nose (which I try and do), that's 5 years and 8 months of straight donations (it's actually about 7 years of slightly spotty donations, but I've only missed 9 possible donations). I believe this is the single most positive donation I've made to the world that I live in.

Each pint of blood donated saves at least three lives (I saw at least because I've seen four quoted, but believe what you need to). This basic fact has brought me out of some very dark moods. Want to commit suicide? Think of all the people you could be helping instead with one hour every two months! If you think the fact that the kids in your class don't like you is more important that a newborn baby girl who needs blood, then maybe we're all better off without you.

And I have exactly zero sympathy for people who don't like needles. Oh, I'm sure the girl who was hit by a drunk driver in broad daylight outside my dad's work a couple weeks ago understands. It's a needle. It's not going to kill you. Don't look at it. Make a sacrifice.

Or maybe the 14 year old in North Carolina who was stabbed by a boy her age also doesn't mind that you're too busy to spare an hour six times a year.*

As if I'm not already hypocritical enough, I don't really mind people who use the fact that they got a tattoo or a piercing as an excuse. People who get them in order to use them as an excuse (isn't that extreme? I mean, both use a needle!), you must die. But yeah, it's in the past. Actually, the last nurse to take care of me this past time made the comment that I must be one of the few people left my age who doesn't have a piercing or a tattoo (which I believe is quite true).**

I love greeting people who have given their first donation. I love finding out someone has donated before, and is a regular. I especially like getting people started on it. But I have a hard time respecting someone as much when they tell me they don't give blood because they don't want to. I hope those people get in an accident just as the hospital runs out. Almost for real.

Go donate. Please. You'll have my respect, and the gratitude of some stranger you'll never know, and who will never know you. Or, maybe even a friend or family member.***

*Of course, the story that my dad almost saw happen doesn't appear anywhere, but the made up one has a link. Swell. Just my luck.

**A friend told me that I was due for one now, and when I said I would only consider getting one if I was leaving the country, she looked at me with a puzzled look. If I'm leaving the country, it will be for a while (not a vacation), and I won't be able to give blood anyway, so I would consider doing something then. However, in keeping with my new philosophy, I wouldn't. I can't think of one good reason to get either now. Besides, I express myself in much more, er, expressive ways.

***I'm sorry, this was much more fiery when I first thought of it and started writing it, but I never finished it, and by today, I just couldn't condemn people who don't like needles to a pit of ever-lasting fire-needles. Not the same way I did with the Fox executives.

context

It's not so much that I have a problem expressing myself, it's more of a case of expressing myself properly.

That mascot still got what he deserved, though. Giving me the finger. No, fuck you, buddy.

things i thunk

Things that went through my head at various times today:

• Why is there so much roadkill every time I go on a bike ride?
*
• Why is swearing so much fun? And, as a corollary, why is bleeping so dumb?**
• Is low blood pressure a problem? Mine's around the low side of 'healthy'. Is this bad? (No. And it isn't low.)
• Why do I keep compulsively eating peanut butter to an unhealthy end? (I ate 1 kg in two days last week. But it was so goooood!)
• Why don't you ever see job listings saying that they are looking for people who work best on their own? I'm sure that some programming positions would work basically like that, and those people usually are amongst the best programmers. In my experience.
• Why can't I smell skunk? Like, at all? Not that I'm dying to know what skunk smells like, I just have no idea, but I don't smell anything when people around me are dropping like flies.
• When did my office become such a pigsty?
• Is it really OK for me to sit at my computer at work and conduct meetings with coworkers (and my boss!) in my undershirt? I do it fairly regularly. Nothing formal, but they'll stop by and chat after I get in, before I put on a shirt. I find it rather humourous, personally.
• You know, plain peanuts are pretty good too.
• Why are Corel's products so hellishly user-unfriendly? After going a full 8 hours in the ring with them, I feel like I've been hit by a semi driven by the Incredible Hulk while he's on a sugar rush.
• Who put the ram in the rama-lama-ding-dong?
• And lastly, how close is cornmeal to whatever porridge is made of? Like really close? Then what's the difference? Other than colour and name.

*I saw a skunk that had been spread out over about 5 feet of road, diagonally. It was disgusting, but really made me think. How did that happen, anyway?

**I like cursing a lot of things. Family, friends, the government, various inanimate objects, parts of my body, concepts, and, especially lately, Mother Nature. Today I caught myself telling the exceptionally strong wind to blow me. Which it then proceeded to do. When I realized what I had said, I laughed out loud, riding down the road.

biking for $$$

$$$ in not gas, anyway. And they called me crazy for biking everywhere. mwa ha ha ha.

So I did my 1000th kilometer since buying my bike odometer today. 29 days, despite a bruised rib, strained rotator cuff from jumping over a hill like an idiot (I'm totally doing it again, with less idiot and more jumping), accidentally buying icy clean mint paste toothpaste (yuck), and some weird shin-splint-like condition that keeps mysteriously appearing and disappearing. Two days to go to see how many I can do in a month. I'm quite proud of myself. And there's still at least two months of biking weather, albeit with the probably addition of a coat.

I ate a bug while biking at lunch today that tasted like yuck, and stole an ear of corn that tasted like total ass. Serves me right.

shit. what? rollers. no. yeah. shit.

Coincidences happen for a reason. I don't pretend to understand them.

I was watching Blues Brothers tonight, while music reverberated through my empty apartment, originating at my computer. After watching the scene in Bob's Country Bunker, not 15 minutes later, out of a list of 10,614 songs, Winamp randomly chooses Stand By Your Man, from the Blues Brothers soundtrack.

Guess they really were on a mission from God, and He sure is mysterious.

it's time to get local

Here in Ontario, many things are outrageously priced, because industries have been handed over to private industry. Power is still a government utility, but just barely. Insurance, however, has been in the private domain for some time, and it shows. Rates are insane, at least, compared to what I have always known.

In Saskatchewan, the government still runs car insurance. Insurance is on the car. People can now choose to have no-fault insurance or not (which, incidentally, was created in Saskatchewan 55 years ago. Saskatchewan, policy king of Canada). Insurance is relatively cheap. I'll use a friend who just moved here as an example. Old car, plenty of mileage on it. She was paying $80 a month before in good old SK. Moving here, same vehicle, she has to get a pollution clearance on it, then pay almost four times the insurance per month - $300. This has been happening all over here, and people have been (rightly) getting pissed off.

So what does the government do? Introduce legislation to pay those who treat accident victims less money (and reduce some administration). And despite this, the head of the insurance industry still predicts an increase (though "[t]he premiums will be much lower than they otherwise would have been.").

This is not the answer. All they have done is let the insurance companies make more money, with the 'promise' that they will pass on some of the savings to customers. This is another example of the horrible government of Ernie Eves trying to fleece the voters before an election, and it seems he's doing a damn good job of it so far.

I hate vote-buying. It's a cheap gimmick, short-term, and short-sighted.

Politics is just way too dirty a game.

i am a horrible son

I just made my mother, the woman who brought me into this world cry over an argument about my employment situation. She's convinced I'm going to shrivel up and die and that everyone I graduated with, those who graduated before me, and the kids who graduated this year all have jobs and I don't. My education was a big waste. I try and convince her that no, the minority of my class has the job that was promised to them when they graduated, that my education was not a waste, and that I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and possibly moreso than a few people who did get jobs, but, alas, it is to no avail.

I feel like a living dichotomy, especially since Jessica, whom I've never met in real life, called me "possibly the most thoughtful people I know" (toot toot). Is this common? Are you nice to others and an ass to your family?

I'm lost (again). And I feel like a big bowl of poop.