you shouldn't do that

2010-04-04T20:49:00.004-04:00

so this is the difference between living and not living

this is post number 970. my outlook has changed.

the person i thought i was, the person i thought i was becoming, faded to a shade of grey outlined in black dots. it's now disappearing.

i'm not sure that i'm alive. i can't prove it.

i don't want anything. i'm questioning that i can even feel anything.

this is an admission of abject defeat. there is no "back on track", only drastic change.

2010-03-21T22:44:00.000-04:00

turn off the tv it's killing us we never speak

2010-02-11T22:30:00.001-05:00

Can anyone hear me?

2008-04-10T21:10:00.002-04:00

they checked out an hour ago

those loose ends

they come back again

2008-04-01T00:40:00.005-04:00

you have to forgive yourself, i think

i think it was slightly less than a year ago that i had this dream where i died. i have had one or two death dreams before, but this was dream of true death. from what i can remember...

i was violently murdered. i was shot to death by lots and lots of bullets fired in quick succession. it only takes one right? excessive! the goons what done it were straight out of Commando, a fine film which i had watched right before bed.

anyways, the thing is that instead of waking, i was transported to the streets of a large and quiet city resembling toronto. i seemed to be walking down the street along with a few other people. friends maybe? other dead boys?

i should mention at this point that i not only believed, but felt and knew that i was truly dead and was now experiencing the afterlife. maybe you can imagine the accompanying thoughts.

i think this part was the essential interaction: i encountered a disheveled man in a wheelchair, looking all fucked up on drugs / alcohol / the pain of existence. he resembled a street kid from my hometown. he had completely given up everything, all hope, and i was pleading with him to forgive himself and love himself, the whole time we were both sobbing like infants.

here is where i woke up, and immediately burst into tears. i've never felt anything like it. it wasn't some sort of quiet brooding and welling up, it was just pure guttural emotion exploding. it was like a rush of the sadness of the dream, mixed with the feeling of being resurrected or getting a miraculous second chance.

i was fucked for the whole day. just useless. for months, i would intermittently remember the dream and at once feel this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

that's a lot more than i intended to say, but there it is.

there is a lot going on there, more than i'm qualified to explain in any meaningful way. i think it's supposed to be about mortality, with a healthy dose of the religious. but i also think it may be about pleading with myself to forgive myself, but for what i have no idea. there's also some feelings of regret in there.

i guess it's all very usual stuff. very powerful usual stuff.

2008-03-30T22:24:00.002-04:00

fame and fortune is a stupid game and fame and fortune is the game i play

i got up to some recording this weekend. it's been so long that i am rusty and have difficulty with stamina on my instruments. i'm a real five minute fred.

i completed a drum track and a bass track for a cover version of the game music from the NES game Kings of the Beach. i always loved the music in this game, and recorded my own version of it in high school, which was sloppy and badly done. so now i'm revisiting it in an attempt to... do a better job.

if it all works out i'd like to make a web video if i can.

2008-03-13T22:29:00.002-04:00

you do or don't and then you're dead

i haven't slept in four days. My girlfriend pointed out the cover of Maclean's magazine, which is about the topic -- i went to buy it at lunch and suddenly the cover had changed to a story about dangerous cities. N'ah, not interested in that.

i bought an utne reader because there was a story on "how to sit still." How pathetic is that? i really wanted to learn how to meditate from a two-page magazine article. The premise was that you stop thinking, and kapow! ...you're meditating. Sounds great to me.

Think I'll go lie in bed.

2008-03-11T23:31:00.004-04:00

you have stopped the flavour

Where the fuck did the time go? That's the question. And one of a few things I think when I read old blog posts.

Another thing -- I kind of got into a groove where everything that was in my head would get out unfiltered and I would become incredibly efficient at directing it without stopping the flow. So, logically, I need to keep writing regularly because it sure isn't that way now.

After all, I do want to.

My fingers are like claws. I have become arthritic before my time. Even though that's an obvious exaggeration -one i may be stricken down for- that's what it feels like. That's what it feels like when you type all day. Type type type thousands of words.

On the plus side I have a great job.

2008-01-10T19:20:00.002-05:00

heaven is not the kind of place that gets found

My teeth need to be fixed. I put it off, even though I can now afford it. Can I please repeat that I think making the populace pay for dental care is totally wild west? You can die from teeth problems, it's medical care. Teeth and hair make me think of existential issues, because they are permanent -- permanently had or permanently lost.

I owe money, I put it off.

There's those stupid loose ends that won't go away.

Once when I was a teenager my dad was driving me somewhere and I had a flyaway hair sticking out and he offered to cut it off. I wasn't having it. An army couldn't have made me cut that thing off.

I need to tell you a story. About four years ago I was browsing in a zeller's store in etobicoke, and I heard this song over the loudspeakers -- a christmas song for it was christmas. It sounded like magic, like a hipster's christmas carol, a british new wave hymn. I hearkened in vain to grab some lyrics for later googling, but because of the muddled raw production I could get nothing out of it.

I called that song my white whale. I would tell people about it. I heard it again a couple of years later when I (unfortunately) worked at a store owned by the same company, but I was on the phone with an important customer and could not get out of the conversation. I had to use the half of my brain that wasn't trying to please someone other than myself.

Another couple of years later (which was incidentally a few weeks ago), I heard it again in a cd store. I asked the shopkeeper what the song was, and like that the knowledge was mine. A little anticlimactic, but I got more out of it than a song.

Turns out the song was called "Christmas," and was recorded by a band called the Buzz of Delight, a two person band (one of these persons was Matthew Sweet). The song is better than I remember.

I found the song, and the full album from whence it came on a blog called Willfully Obscure, an amazing blog which seems to feature vinyl and cd rips of really cool music.

The rest of the record is even more exciting to me than even the song I was looking for. I don't know how to describe the music, except to say that it's beautiful.

2007-11-29T20:01:00.001-05:00

everything is crashing

a lot of things have happened, too many to type, too few to rave.

i am truly in love and still with the same person over a year later.

i worked in a bay-owned store for a while, and then i worked in a wine store for a while, and then i catered on film sets for a while, and now i work for a tv show

i am back on my feet. i have developed the habit of typing capital Is. i am a cell phone user. i played in a band for a while and now have joined another. i am going to go make dinner. i just kind of feel like writing here, because i am proud of what i've put up in the last five years.

2007-06-05T12:18:00.001-04:00

i need to get back to this thing

2006-11-23T14:15:00.000-05:00

don't feel much like writing here anymore. i have a couple of jobs and i have school and i am in love. there's no time left for blogging.

not to say i'll never update.

in the meantime go to www.myspace.com/shanemacpherson

2006-11-05T21:47:00.000-05:00

after all the lies, after all the time, time after time

here is a photo i stole from a lovely lady

been overwhelmed

i saw borat last night, that was a laughcapade. but i think i laughed harder when i saw jackass 2, although it's probably because that feature was a series of buildups to explosive moments. ha HA... buildups.

what me wants to see is KG and JB with the possibility of LEE on the silver screen in the pick of destiny. i think that movie will do terrible things to me. please forgive me for anything embarrassing that i do or say afterwards.

i keep listening to this tristan psionic song called promise from a cd of theirs which i found at a value village. it's so long and wristslittingly depressing, and the singing is horrible, but this melody and all the things that propel it is so compelling that i can't listen away. i hear it in my mind a lot. i said i wouldn't listen to depressing music anymore

2006-10-13T12:55:00.000-04:00

poor and despised
no one said it was easy

and i'll say

fuck the minimum wage. a paper bag could not support itself on $7.75 per hour. what is a family supposed to do with that? even ten dollars would be a tough go.

yeah i'm really frustrated about it. i always will be. even when i get a job making way more than what i am now (ie. every other job i've ever had), i will still feel for my fellow ontarians. check this -- most of my twenty-something co-workers live at home, with their parents. that's fucked up. coincedence, you think?

i know what yer sayin' now -- cut that shit out of your life and find another job. yes i could do that, and eventually i will. but it's bigger than me. it's a situation where an uncaring government is legislating all over lives it knows nothing about. and i'm not talking about me, i'm talking about people who really are poor and despised.

i whine about being poor, but i have options if i really hit rock bottom. i can get help. many people don't have that option. what do they do?

2006-10-09T19:51:00.000-04:00

your floor is my ceiling

i am tempted to say i don't have much in this life, but i do have plenty when i really look at it. i may be broke and beyond, but i'm a pretty lucky person all things considered.

this is my small slice of paradise in this universe. my bedroom adjacent rooftop "patio." the former occupants of this 93-year-old slanted deathtrap were absolute pigs. and hipsters. hipster pigs. they left this plot of gravel covered in garbage... wet and rotted garbage.

it took a solid hour to toss it all off the roof and clean it up, but it was well worth it. i've always wanted a balcony, and that modest dream has come true. it has so many uses i won't even bother to list them.

2006-10-07T23:05:00.000-04:00

at the restaurant, i beat up the bathroom. i'm sorry.

i'm not getting much done these days, creatively. i'm forwarding all my energies to other things.

i was all depressed because my hours dropped off to nothing at work. i know it was due to apathy and the distractions of running a business, but i couldn't keep from taking it personally. i really felt like beating up a bathroom.

i went on whine patrol and now everything's cool.

2006-09-30T22:52:00.000-04:00

blogger romance does exist

what you've just witnessed was the occasional lapse where i don't write anything for a month

it's laziness, disinterest, neglect, encroachment of real life, whatever else

life is pretty good, i must say. i do have a secret depression. and it's that my monthly wages < my monthly expenses. it's frustrating. whatever happened to that living wage thing?

this is something i can overcome, i have the power.

trouble is... there are moments where i don't have the strength to face it.

i feel like a ghost at school. so familiar but so unknown. i know where i'm going but i don't recognize a soul. when i do, i feel like i'm haunting the halls of a great mansion and watching the lives of the current inhabitants.

i finally feel connected. rooted. i have finally unpacked my bedroom and set it up. there were numerous complications. but i'm ready to be productive again.

2006-09-18T00:03:00.000-04:00

but you dont

have any sense, any sense of time

i-hi, yeahhhh i'm still alive
yeah-e-ah-e-iiii hi, whoaaaa i'm still alive
oooooooo i'm still alive
yeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeah

2006-09-01T00:13:00.000-04:00

well it's going in the garbage right after

i had cans of beer in my backpack and they wouldn't let me in. understandable on face. i won't get into the why of the beer cans, suffice to say they were just in there. and i was an upfront guy about it.

so i went in to break the news and the bouncer had a glorious and miraculous change of heart.

ohhhh you know this guy? well that changes everything. let me put that backpack in our easily accessible and otherwise empty closet.

a minute ago i wasn't good enough for the closet... what a charmed life.

preferential treatment. i don't have to like it just because i'm on the soft end of the stick. i won't always be.

like when someone completely ignores you because you have nothing to offer, but they turn into god damned diplomats when they find out that you're your sibling's sibling... that's dumb.

if that's what you're like, then the problem is the way you treat people.

2006-08-28T01:03:00.000-04:00

horrible secrets are a heavy burden to carry

whoa, dark. i purchased melville's billy budd and other stories, because it was mentioned on the Sopranos. i hope to learn something about literary criticism here.

i purchased a copy of watership down because it was mentioned in donnie darko. is there a pattern emerging here? no. i'm just like everyone else.

there was a hardcore show thrown in an alley last night, it kicked some fuckin' ass. they got away with it because the blues festival was going on around the corner. no one noticed.

the blues... how about that! midtempo shuffle with a syrupy coating of guitar solo after god damn guitar solo all night long. if i wanted to see a bunch of aging white men masturbating... well... i'd never want to see that.

there is a meaningful blues going on somewhere... but not here.

in the cradle of the west we trade sleep for death
a lifelong lapse of attention and deep seated fears
become years and years of empty space
things to think about that before you leave this place

while i was at this show i overheard someone talking about a new survivor series where there are teams divided into different races. i chuckled over this outrageous made-up story and did not think of it again.

well whattaya know. shit is true. go check the newspaper.

full blown insanity. that's what it is. a very controlled kind. someone somewhere knows that lots of people will be outraged, and certain other people will be pleased to know their race will finally stick it to [other race of choice], controversy will ensue, and the most important variable -- everyone will roll over and let it go. debate will rage on, and advertising revenues will roll in in in in.

edit -- well i feel silly now. a friend told me it's probably a marketing ploy and they'll probably be put together later on, on account of no one is talking about survivor anymore and they need a jolt. makes a lot of sense, and i never thought about it. frankly i'm surprised that i would even talk so much about a tv show i'd never watch.

2006-08-26T13:40:00.000-04:00

Corrections? An officer of the stocks flaming in black socks in the sick metropolis?

lascivious man
seeing stacked vixen asses and skirts sex kittens
becomes smitten and thinks of ripping her shirt
right there on the spot bare
teeth biting in to reveal reddened skin
a deadened heart teems from within with lust

it goes on and goes on but still he finds
no lollipop to soothe the hard-on
this man this mischevious mission this glutton
goes out to find something to suck on
but still has a hard time retrieving
the time of day from missy
he is enraged and left in a tizzy
nothing left to do,
this bereft heart turns blue with lack of oxygen
as he stops to reason what he's done
with this foul lifeless person
he is locked in prison

i'm sure i'll grow out of the yellow and black thing pretty quick

2006-08-26T03:33:00.000-04:00

whole lotta nothin' going on

so i'm doing a lot of navel gazing in this mini vacation i've got going for me

roughly ten work free days

i tried to do some vocals today but my voice sucked and i'm starting to think that this song is in the wrong range and needs a total rewrite. everything ever again from now on needs a rewrite. fiona apple style.

i am kind of boring because i am bored. i think a change of life and of scenery will do wonders foy my psyche. i am toronto bound, again, real soon. that's one big city.

2006-08-24T02:37:00.000-04:00

all this noise... fuck this noise
what are these numbers for?

i have finally gotten around to starting naked lunch. what a fucked up piece of writing... shit! i can't describe it at all, but my mind has been blown. that's all i can say at this point, having read about a third of it.

i don't think i ever mentioned that i read siddartha as well recently. that one spoke to me in a pretty deep way. but my memory washes so fast and i've already forgotten most of it.

2006-08-22T14:07:00.000-04:00

she wants me to ask, so i will because i am a schmuck

i have a daily mental exercise that i do

what i do is try to complete the jumble without a pen. there's something about moving the words and letters around in a completely abstract way that i think is really good for you.

that's about it.

2006-08-21T02:46:00.000-04:00

if i'm dead or alive i don't feel it

a couple of boys stole my bike right off of my deck tonight. i got it back, but the whole thing was stupid.

this kind of thing just doesn't happen in this neighbourhood, so it was odd right from the beginning.

they took my unlocked bike, weren't satisfied, and came back for my dad's. both times setting off motion sensor lights, both times seen by neighbours.

the last fucking thing i want to do on a sunday evening is go chasing after lean and frightened teenagers. i am equally lean and about as frightened, but i'm not the runner i once was.

the bike was dumped after the stupidest chase ever.

what a ridiculous exercise, a total waste. this asshole didn't need shit. the nerve of this fucking kid -- here he is in the cradle of luxury... the highest standard of living you'd ever want, stealing from another of the same.

that's the baffling icing on top. these kids were clearly local, i think very local. they were not skeezbags, they were well dressed and fresh faced suburban boys.

man, there's a whole world out there of things to do other than stealing things from innocent neighbours.

2006-08-17T21:40:00.000-04:00

every time a retarded person is executed, an angel gets its wings

yesterday, i spent the entire day at a country gig. i was hired to play bass for some singing sisters.

this meant sitting through an entire day of country acts. but really it was just like anything else -- lots of mediocrity, some real genuine talents, and some real serious douches.

i bought this LP just today.

2006-08-13T23:15:00.000-04:00

what's up your craw, punk?

i had a man stop me on the street yesterday to ask hey, are you a fag? what do you say to a thing like that? it's a mind-boggling question.

if you come up with a better answer than no, well... well you're a cleverer cat than i.

so what are you willing to tolerate in other people? do you look past someone's racism or homophobia? i have trouble with that one. namely i can't. maybe that makes me a bad dude too.

i guess my argument is yeah this guy's alright, he's nice to me... but what if i was gay... i mean i'd be the same person but he'd want to kick my ass... what an asshole! makes sense to me.

then of course there's an entire person behind the racism or whatever. but you can't change them... they've gotta believe what they want.

2006-08-11T18:07:00.000-04:00

some big balls on that president of the united states

not that it negates my previous post, but none of my vocal tracks turned out to be as good as i thought they were. they were too off-key and too airy. and for me, it takes a lot of off-key to register as 'too off-key.'

trouble is, it takes a day to find out anyways... a day to remove the bias.

i watched an inconvenient truth yesterday, on a free pass i found in my wallet. i'm easy to please -- loved it. i never thought al gore would become a rock star... but there he was.

i try to remain a skeptic in every situation, but it's hard to come away from a film like this without being a little worried. i mean... come on... THE MAN HAD GRAPHS. THE GRAPHS WENT UP. i don't know about you, but graphs give me chills.

i read a story in yesterday's newspaper that made me laugh out loud. it was a tiny blurb on the side that explained that george bush's team has altered the war crimes act to protect themselves. what a great message.

hey kids! do you like atrocities?

mmhmm!

but what do mommy and daddy say?

no atrocities!

what if you could... change the rules?

yayyyyy!

well that's what the man on the television did!

2006-08-09T16:53:00.000-04:00

working too hard can give you a heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack

i have just remembered the secret of good vocal tracks. if i don't write this down right now i will forget it and lose it forever.

this is it:

1. begin

2. keep truckin'

3. keep truckin' again until your voice is all warmed up like a hot set of tubes, even if it takes track after track of discarded crap.

4. keep on keepin' on until you have a really solid one-take track of good vocals.

5. here is the key -- most times i'd rest at this point. but no. no track is as good as you think it is. do it again, until you have a second perfect one-take track.

6. repeat the process for each layer of vocals -- backups, oohs, ahhs, pained screaming of spoken word poetry, scat solos -- two of each

7. thank yourself in the morning, when you sit down to mix the song and realize that some of the vocals sucked, but you can replace them with other vocals that don't suck.

2006-08-07T23:58:00.000-04:00

fred durst is the wurst

so this is what's stupid about blogs. any old douchebag can start up a blog, copy and paste stories from a newspaper, and call it a news blog. what the fuck.

yeah that's what the news media needs... millions of little parrots upon its broad gigantic lying shoulders. i bet there are plenty of chips to eat up there.

amazing how the will of a complete stranger becomes a dominant force in your life. completely at random.

i am trying to find a place to live, from afar, through a proxy apartment hunter. i am now depending on the word from a mysterious fourth roommate that i will probably never meet. one word from this person and my year long accomodations change completely. maybe i will coach his kids in varsity football in another life.

this time of year is stressful. apartments suck, moving sucks, school sucks, jobs suck, people suck. oh yes, there it is, that inspiration. i feel like i am ready to pen the ballad of fred durst.

i did it all..... for the nookie.

2006-08-06T19:20:00.000-04:00

when did you first learn that jesus was black-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack?

i have been "in the studio" lately. i actually came out with something that is making me happy. all it needs is for all the vocals to be redone, and maybe the whole song redone later when i rewrite it. who knows.

my new guitar sounds nice on tape.

why bother taking my uniform off when i just have to put it on again in the morning?

i go through cycles with jobs. in the beginning i come in early and arrive having eaten. closer to the end, i start waking up five minutes before i have to leave for work, and neglect my hygeine and diet. there is no breakfast to speak of.

it gets to the point where i want to eat and i want to be shaven and wearing clean clothes, but some nagging darkness overtakes me that asserts why bother. that's all it says.

i want to do things but don't. it's wierd.

every time my life is changed in some way, i become born again. i wake up early. i become fitter, happier, more productive.

2006-08-04T01:08:00.000-04:00

yours skyward, mine interred

i'm finding myself less moved by music as i age, or maybe just more selective of what moves me. whatever it is i am ready to accept it and go with it.

i've exhausted so many things. but when a song makes me feel something, i appreciate it.

here's one that's become a bit of an anthem for me lately -- it's called apes aping apes, by a band called the robocop kraus. i'll share with you all the lyrics that i can discern.

this is intrinsic
it works on its own
from the inside
the microcosm to the microphone

this is a sinking ship
this is the tone
of apes aping apes
and we sing along

what was it built for?
the engineers are all long gone

what it means to me is that the society has rotten and inertia has taken hold... we're left here ignorant and on our own, no longer connected to our own past. instead of doing great things, we try to copy great things. it sounds hopeless, but it's not to me. the song and the idea exist, so it has been addressed.

i welcome you to listen to it if you can find it, but in my experience passion for a song doesn't travel real well.

2006-08-01T00:22:00.000-04:00

excuse me sir, do you realize that you are gross?

that's what i would say to the trashed out hordes the sons of whores that make no attempt to hide the festering sores of decades of excess

the trashiest trash that ever trashed scar-core hiding out in my own backyard and passed out on my proverbial floor

that's what you call a judgemental rhyme

gosh i love the smell of a bar in the night time that intermingling of boozes and cleaning solutions and the must of a carpet not bothered to be cleaned and for good reason when its livelihood is being stood upon by the drinking the convulsing and the gone

i feel like i'm remembering words and language finally, but slowly

still can't write lyrics. still can't finish anything i start in the studio. still haunted by that god damn stupid track that i put up on myspace and try and try and try and i cannot top it. what's the word for that? when an artist creates something he's proud of in a real easy flurry of activity and is haunted till the end of his days by its ghost? i think it's called failure!

you know me, positive mcgee, i keep trying until all the glasses are empty

2006-07-30T19:29:00.000-04:00

fake boys and fake girls clenching fists

growing up gotti? the only tv show to smell like cologne and hair gel. glad it was cancelled. fuck this show and everything it stands for.

entertainment is watching spoiled little douchebags living it up in the house that homicide built. and paying them for the privelege. a+e should be pretty ashamed of themselves. luckily the corporation is immune from those kinds of things.

i must admit, it's pretty exciting to be inching so closely towards videodrome territory.

what else is stripping away my faith in humanity? mufflers. keep the fucking stock muffler on the god damn toyota, you bunch of pricks. there's a reason why it's there.

one extra horsepower is not going to increase the length and/or girth of anyone's penis. furthermore, ego stroking is not worth that annoying piercing sound of shitboxes gunning through the city.

we build the kids to be selfish preening narcissists, and this is what they do when they get cars. big surprise. big excruciating surprise.

yeah, that's all i've got. negativity and anger.

2006-07-28T00:33:00.000-04:00

a contract in our mutual interest

today, i have nothing today but an on the road quote today

...today

Then he whispered, clutching my sleeve, sweating, "Now you just dig them in front. They have worries, they're counting the miles, they're thinking about where to sleep tonight, how much money for gas, the weather, how they'll get there--and all the time they'll get there anyway, you see. But they need to worry and betray time with urgencies false and otherwise, purely anxious and whiny, their souls really won't be at peace unless they can latch on to an established and proven worry and having once found it they assume facial expressions to fit and go with it, which is, you see, unhapiness, and all the time it all flies by them and they know it and that too worries them no end.

that's dean speaking to sal, in the back of a car which is being driven by tourists... as usual summing up everything that is sad and true in this world.

i am lost in this book.

2006-07-26T21:15:00.000-04:00

so here i am waiting for an email that doesn't exist

tapped and clacked bent-wrist
packed in glass that wasn't his
twilight mist cigar rings exist
in this leather appointed room
perhaps some neuf du pape for the situation...

the invitation tacked on
to tell a time
a place
an instrument to bring
tones that ring
shrill eardrum killing fills
that spill out onto that fine frontenac lawn

nothing happens, no light and no music
no luigi bormioli no cannoli and no home cookin'

so i don't know what happened. you look at my history one year ago i was inspired. i was receiving messages from dean moriarty. i'm not talking about the poetry, that was masturbation. i'm talking about everything else.

now i don't feel the same way. but it could be as simple as this! i was fucking READING last summer. i was always reading something. the words burrowed into my brain and built nests, they bottlenecked in there and marinated in my fluids.

that's all you have to do, is read.

but i tell you, i was writing gold. not a thought existed in my mind, but the acknowledgement of the tapping sounds of the keyboard. that's automatic, like a machine.

maybe i was bored with my job. that's part of it. i had time.

what i do know is this -- i will hop back to it.

also this -- the longer i live, the stronger i feel that the whole culture is a big fucking lie.

2006-07-25T01:45:00.000-04:00

turns out they were right

my workplace is a sick joke. i see gorgeous women every day, but they are the types that are chasing the perfect material life. there'd be no place for me.

i've been having a problem with people ignoring me when i say hello... i take it personally. i shouldn't but i do. it really lowers my spirits. i end up not wanting to say anything to anyone.

but being sociable is what i like about retail, so when things go well it's awesome.

i am far from perfect, friends.

the more time i spend in the retail cocoon, the more i feel like i just need this one last perfect houseware to make my life complete. every time i watch fight club it's a total reality check.

to be sure -- this film isn't dictating anything to me, merely underlining the real me and what my philosophy is. you won't find me punching myself in the face or blowing shit up anytime soon, but i could definitely stand to de-stress material comfort.

liking things is fine, but for me it can get outrageous. everything can.

give me a box of cookies and i am not getting up until it's empty. that's the kind of person i am.

2006-07-21T23:46:00.000-04:00

they said we'd tear ourselves apart

i have purchased a new guitar. i have been playing a telecaster for several years, but there's no love in the marriage anymore.

i listened to ted nugent's advice, and bought a hollow body. it was fairly inexpensive, but it is really nice. it feels sooooo goodchuckmangione.

i don't like weekends. i work every day, every weekend. they give weekend shifts to the people they pay the least. that's how life works!

2006-07-20T00:51:00.000-04:00

am i on myspace?

ummmmm

yes.

this is the prize i won at the guitar clinic. is it bitchin? well yes... yes it is bitchin, now that you mention it.

technically i work at the store organizing the event (though you wouldn't know it, since i have all of 3 students), so i probably shouldn't have won.

all i know is this -- god only gives you one ticket in this life, and when he calls your number... you step up to the stage to receive your miniature amplifier.

so after three days off work my feet are feeling pretty good. i am kicking the crap out of my double bass pedal. and i'm still terrible. and i still love it.

2006-07-18T15:59:00.000-04:00

when we get home hope the dogs don't bark

my dawwwwwwgs are baaaaarking. it's mostly from work. i am on stairs all day with heavy objects.

i wouldn't really care about the pain, but it is affecting my ability to play the drums. that is bad. when you lose that, you lose the joy.

i like the way that myspace brings out everything that is faulty with the society and displays it in easy-to-digest bits.

greed neuroses narcissism phoniness superficiality lying

that said, i do want to set up an artist account. but i don't want to use my real name i want to use a pseudonym. i've said this before, but it's true that i've been trying to decide on one for six years to no success.

lots of hot weather and lots of biking.

2006-07-13T02:08:00.000-04:00

the brightest stones make the brightest beach

i have been listening to a self-titled record called os mutantes, which is a brazilian psychadelic album from the sixties. i was turned on to it through reading about another band that they'd influenced.

that's the best way to get to the heart of the culture -- dig backwards. until you get to pete seeger. pretty much everything before that was crap. ha HAAA. okay i take it back.

it's a pretty amazing set of songs. there's some rock in there, some samba, some wierd noises... as was the style at the time.

i went to a thing!

it was a guitar "clinic." but really it was a performance... followed by stupid, idiotic, inane questions that have NOTHING TO DO WITH GUITAR. these yokels embarrass me.

anyways, that's the point. not the clinic, the idiocy.

also i won a neat thing in a draw after the show, which i'll post a picture of soon.

and no, it's not this creepy doll.

if bright stones make a bright beach than surely this be a dark and cold northern one.

2006-07-12T13:38:00.000-04:00

i'm done with subtext, subtext has ruined me

time i planned to awake: 9am

time i actually awoke: 1pm

that is four hours i could have spent jumping for joy, playing the drums, wallowing in fear, living life.

there are years of photos to dig back through. they date back to december 31st, 2000. and there's about six thousand pictures. that means i am running at roughly 1 kilophoto per year.

whenever i dig back through them i start to get this panicky feeling looking at all the old good times i've had. where are they going? are they dwindling? are they static? are they just beginning?

in my realistic and positive view, the good times are static. they'll always be there. it's just that they're different in each era.

when you're eighteen, the good times are newer and more adventurous... but the tradeoff is that you are an immature little dipshit, ill-equipped to properly appreciate them.

i'm a strange bird, because i've always been simultaneously several years ahead in terms of intellectual maturity and several years behind in terms of real world maturity.

that panic feeling used to overwhelm me in my more negative days. i remember listening to U2 in my tiny little roach-infested kitchen in first year and suddenly having a legitimate panic attack... that feeling of impending catastrophe and closing walls. and then i was on a bus, listening to a different U2 album and the same thing happened.

you know what? now i see it. those U2 assholes knew exactly what they were doing. fuck them.

2006-07-11T23:19:00.000-04:00

you'll never have to make a difficult decision again

i set too many appointments that i know will never materialize. i have begun to focus more on concrete plans. sometimes it is important to make things happen.

so anyone that wanted to read my bad poetry -- the bulk of it is on that link to the left that says stopwatch. mine are the ones that say styrofoamboots underneath them.

my concerns... what are my concerns. well do i wake up tomorrow and go do mandatory government things or do i stay home and try and record some music? it's a serious dilemma, because i've just recorded a drum track for a song that is good even though the lyrics are bad.

i'll record it anyways and if i don't like it i won't foist it on anyone.

i am going to travel to north bay next week to visit friends that are performing with the one and the only WAX MANNEQUIN. i won't much use capital letters, but there's a special case.

2006-07-09T01:14:00.000-04:00

funny how time flies

god damn microphones staring me in the face all day long

they want me to whisper into them something sweet and soft and true

but i write lyrics in the rush of the windy sunny afternoon locked in traffic on highway 401 hopped up on an injection of twenty minutes of free jazz with a sprinkling of gil scott heron; and in the coolness of the evening by my bedside i stop believing in those lyrics

what? these came from my head and my heart, and now they look like cold chopped liver on an off-white plate on an autumn day.

is the problem with my belief, or with my lyrics? no matter. an equation like that is never certain, it's always some of this and some of that.

i made one good song a while back, and even its lyrics i was never sure of. but the myth of the song is beginning to make them believable. how about that?!

i wish i could still write poetry. i was bad at it, but it was so much fun. same with photography and playing guitar. i know things, but not specifics. charles bukowski, ansel adams, and lenny breau are not going to meet me in the afterlife to tell me of the good i did for their artforms. lets just say that much. but it doesn't matter, it's better to do something than nothing.

anyways the reason is that i don't feel it bubbling up anymore. the crazy stupid magnificent narratives that sprang out of nowhere and didn't really lead anywhere. it's a great exercise and finding your way to something you really believe in.

2006-07-07T03:26:00.000-04:00

some? all! you're him!

see that? i have to shave. it interferes with my ability to sell products.

bits of selling can get caught in your stubble

maybe it's a professional appearance thing. now there's an idea that needs overhauling. times they have changed. people want to buy things from beardos now.

i think i'm too hard on people sometimes, without considering where they're coming from.

fuck this man. i shouldn't be doing retail some of the week, and music some of the week. they are two opposite things. i say that with authority. it is black and white, conservative and liberal, ecks versus sever.

i got my burr grinder in the mail today. i decalcified and cleaned everything, and then had the best cup of coffee i've had in years. the thing is loud like a jackhammer! still... worth it.

2006-07-06T00:01:00.000-04:00

white noise in a white room

everyone around me is depressed. i can't prove it, it's just one of those things you know.

i'm lucky to be far and long out of that hole myself.

some you can talk about it, some not. most not. one thing's sure -- it's no fun hanging out with depressios. i want my friends back.

our way of life is geared towards fucking our heads up.

2006-07-03T22:32:00.000-04:00

apes aping apes

when something like franz ferdinand comes around, i can't understand why people clamour for it as if it's this brand new thing.

don't we understand by now that there's all kinds of crazy different music available everywhere if you just look for it?

i have been reading 'on the road' for a few days. it's an interesting read. i don't really understand the subtleties of the artform of the written word. i feel like a dumb beast when i read books. i sure do like 'em though.

i admit it, i patronize starbucks. they make a fine cup of coffee, and that's the truth. the local independent cafe offers hours-old stuff from big plastic containers, which while good, can't measure up.

this may change, however. i've just purchased a burr grinder through ebay, and will be grinding my own coffee maybe as soon as tomorrow. is this exciting? of course it is.

just so you know, the difference between a burr grinder and a blade grinder is this -- burr good, blade bad.

2006-07-03T02:24:00.000-04:00

swearing in solidarity with the tourette's community

i'm edging in on one thousand of these god damn stupid ridiculous posts. it's at the point where i have lost interest in taking photos. my camera is busted to shit from being dropped so many fucking times for christ's sake.

okay that's enough cursing.

i shrank my pink shirt from throwing it into the dryer in an act of pure idiocy. you know... you go to this american apparel store because you think you're doing a good ethical thing (even though you know whoever is stitching this stuff could use a few semesters in stitchology school because the stuff is fraying before you even buy it) and then you go and ruin it all by shrinking a shirt you paid ten times what you would have paid for it at value village.

that's my life story right there.

i love that moment in seinfeld when the dry cleaner leans in real close with jerry and says ... i shrunk it.

i have tracked down a record called entertainment by a group calling themselves gang of four. i have been looking for it for a while, but now that i have it i see that it's worth the wait. i am glad i kept their name rattling around in my head as long as i did. it's an illuminating listen; historical, really.

i think that if this same record was released tomorrow, the critics would masturbate furiously all over it.

2006-06-30T00:53:00.000-04:00

we can't work it out

summer is when the idiots turn stupid. whenever you see a sun damaged man peel his shitty car through an intersection, a shit angel gets its shit wings.

i just watched some clips of frank zappa on cnn's crossfire in the eighties. great stuff. it's amazing to see a rational and intelligent man come up against small frothing minds.

that whole pmrc thing still boggles my mind to this day. if it wasn't for truly amazing people like frank and jello, i wonder who else would put up with it all... just to stand up for our listening rights.

you know what -- it sure is hard to find torrents of count basie or buddy rich... but if you want whitesnake, yer covered.

2006-06-28T01:40:00.000-04:00

all you want to do is sit on your fat dividend-drawin' ass and draw dividends

i've just watched a film called punishment park (1971), wherein the police round up a bunch of counter-culture types and convict them in unfair trials on dubious charges. they are given the option of prison, or being chased through the desert by the military for three days.

it's got everything -- action, drama, social commentary, hippies getting what's coming to them... everybody wins!

not a relaxing film.

i spent the weekend in the city of toronto, where i attended a private drum teacher's seminar. i laughed, cried, got all kinds of free shit.

i'm fairly certain dillinger escape plan's drummer was in attendance.

i think i took some knowledge away from it, and here it is -- i am no more sure now than i have ever been of what i want to do with my life.

it's like that simpsons episode where some character tells lisa that she is going to end up managing a chapters some day because she thinks she's good at everything but doesn't want to pick one thing. that episode really handed me my ass.

jack of all trades, master of none -- that's me. except the first part... the jack part.

am i good enough for this? good enough for that? can i make a living doing this? that? is it time to try?

what a bunch of bullshit. just pick one thing, and go for it. that's what i should be doing.

2006-06-21T23:57:00.000-04:00

if this was in my house
i'd kick you out

hardcore is an acquired taste. ideally you want to sample and hopefully appreciate everything that your artform (and truly, life) has to crumple into a little ball and whip at your face... right? well some people think so. some people is me.

it's a total extreme. the idea is you let this wave of intensity wash over you. it's a different experience from hip hop or jazz or ukranian folk songs. i think you've got to understand how to listen to something before you can begin to like it.

if you drink beer the same way you drink iced tea on a hot day you'll probably retch. there's a specific way to taste it that can only be learned through cramming six packs down your teen-aged throat in the bushes on the side of the road. at least that's what i was told.

2006-06-21T00:33:00.000-04:00

a simple trick for politically-motivated study results

Studies show that young marijuana users are far more likely to take risks, such as having sex, driving while high or riding with someone who is, or using other illicit substances.

marijuana users take risks? or... risk takers use marijuana?

eh?!

it's not a lie, it's just not the truth. it's... creativity!

2006-06-20T23:35:00.000-04:00

everything's fine
you're so beautiful
spit on yourself

i am doing a lot of sleeping in these days

i am still trying to play this ridiculous double kick pedal. i finish things i start, so i will not give up until i am vinnie paul.

it's an excessive instrument. it doesn't fit my personality. but playing the drums in the first place doesn't do that either.

i thought i had myself figured out, but i don't.

the more i think i have it figured out the happier i am... but the struggles are more important. probably.

2006-06-14T23:30:00.000-04:00

liar

this evening i had the pleasure of seeing a fine quartet of young musicians calling themselves the dillinger escape plan. i'm sure that you'll know them if you like hardcore music, otherwise i wouldn't worry about it. wow man, flames and loudness and throwing things.

i am a changed man after seeing this performance. it's like that part of fight club where the narrator says that after being at fight club, the volume on everything else is turned way down. the more i see human spirit in real life, the more absurd i feel when i go to work at the store.

you know what i don't understand? how does a thing like global warming become a political issue? the very fact that it is a political thing proves that it's just a bunch of people believing what they want to believe versus a bunch of other people who believe what they want to believe. facts and realities be damned.

there needs to be a new view

2006-06-13T23:48:00.000-04:00

i see certain items, and i recoil in horror

dvd burning seems so complicated and cool. now that i have the ability, i don't know what to do with it. so, so many illegal possibilities.

i have purchased another microphone, for $45. what a steal. i am building up a semi-legit piece of crap studio... which is still small enough to be mobile.

i'm going to attempt another song this week. after the last disaster, the motto is -- just fuckin' zoom through it, everything will work out fine. don't think.

have you ever worked with a really immature, attention-seeking jerkwhore? yeah, that's what i'm talking about. what a fucking stress causer.

it really boggles my mind friends, that i have drum students who are really just young children... some of whom are more mature than some of my co-workers in retail. how does that happen?!? here i would be using hand gestures as i speak.

2006-06-10T16:38:00.000-04:00

in the film they made us a little more articulate

you know what i can't stand? gruff old men. why you gotta be like that, pops?

you know what makes my day? positive customers who have friendly conversations with you.

let's talk about moral cowardice. it's important to me.

i once heard moral cowardice depicted by a philosopher as failing to shoot down a hijacked plane to prevent it from crashing into a populated area. that's pretty extreme, but the general idea is solid.

i have strong morals or whatever you want to call it and i do the right thing whether anyone's looking or not. you know... it's for you not for show, all that.

i don't have any trouble making the right choices, but sometimes you are required to do hard things -- such as saying no, or telling someone the fuck off, or defending the defenseless. those can be the most morally correct things at times.

i had to say no to someone yesterday. that was hard for me -- should have been easy, and it should have involved an angry lecture on my part. whatever man, baby steps. in fact, i said yes first, and then took it back. but that's a start.

you are responsible for your actions, and when it comes to fixing those actions it has to be baby steps... in my experience.

2006-06-08T23:05:00.000-04:00

throw that bob marley wannabe motherfucker out of here

i am seeing a new virus on limewire which matches your exact search terms... man what kind of person would make that and release it just to fuck a stranger in the ass?

speaking of fucking strangers in the ass...

last summer i got attacked by a guy who believed that i was gay. it wasn't a serious attack, my head got hurt a bit but i was otherwise fine. the attack was unprovoked (in fact i was trying to help him at the time) , and the guy who did it was a total piece of shit -- you know, absolute white trash. but he wins, and i'll tell you why.

still, every once in a while i dream of what i could have done to hurt him bad, smash his car, find out where he lives, stalk him, terrorize him... i fantasize about blood and violence, about running into him with a group of my friends to back me up.

none of this would ever happen, but my heart rate goes up when i think about it. so i guess i'm still being terrorized by the incident. and that douche that did it -- nothin' doin'. it was probably just another average day for him -- wake up, drink a beer, do some meth, pick up a cheque, hang out with piece of shit friends, beat some faggots.. you know, the usual stuff. yeah, so he wins. and that's what life is like -- you, the good person, continuously losing and coming in second place to total assholes. at least that's what it feels like a lot of the time.

maybe there is divine justice. or as maynard would say -- maybe it just takes longer to catch a total asshole.

so yeah, you don't have to be gay to be a victim of a hate crime.

good to get off that shit off my chest.

2006-06-03T23:22:00.000-04:00

fuck an artist

i don't think bill hicks gets enough credits for the major sentiments he put across. i think people love to quote him because he's obscure enough to get away with it.

so my favourite thing is when customers ravage the packaging of the merchandise like fucking animals

they are looking for the sweet fruits and nuts inside, but the thought of putting it back in the box doesn't cross their minds. one of the major lessons of kindergarten is that when you take something -- put it back the way you found it.

it's even more awesome when the very same product is there on display right above the god damned box. that is priceless. i don't know what they are looking for, but i can tell by the mess on the floor that they didn't find it.

retail kind of reduces us all to children, me included

i bought a double kick pedal. did i say that already? i don't know. but it's one of those things that lets you play yer bass drum with both feet so you sound like the king of death metal. man these things are hard to play. i am working hard on cracking the code, but it continues to elude me.

2006-05-30T23:31:00.000-04:00

uncivilized
waking up from a bad dream

yes, so things are a bit worse these days. i hate a lot of the people i work with. i am the only person who has stayed at the store since day one without quitting or being promoted. i get less hours than the dumb fuck teenager i work with. here is some advice for you all -- do not ever work at a big retailer... ever.

on the plus side, i'm still practicing lots. can't think of anything else to say about that that isn't boring.

ever think that maybe you're understanding those lyrics finally at this moment because someone's trying to tell you something? well if it's a car commercial i wouldn't pay no mind.

2006-05-22T23:50:00.000-04:00

in fact you're just fiction

i bought a new machine, it is 2.66 gigahertz, which seems fast to me

little has happened lately. i shut down in life the way i do on the old blog. i kind of go out of contact from people. i still do the same things, but if i don't feel good then i don't go out of my way to connect with anyone.

this ain't no livejournal, so i don't write sob stories

what time i am not at work flogging housewares, i spend my time practicing the art of playing the drums. i even use my practice pad every day now. i didn't even do that in college. i am fuckin' impressed with myself, the way i'm kicking my ass about this.

i am browsing through internet photographs of karen o and drinking wine. this is a good use of my time.

2006-05-21T01:01:00.000-04:00

rolling blackouts

i feel brittle, absolutely brittle

and i need to get with it

2006-05-17T14:03:00.000-04:00

wow a new post!

so what happened is my computer died. the fan(s) was/were making a real loud noise so i took it in to the shop. i'm told the capacitors are leaking and it's close to death; plus they don't make the parts for it anymore. it is a six year old machine and it has served me well.

i am going to roll with it and buy a new machine, fuck money fuck debt. it's about time i cast off windows 98.

i'll write again soon.

2006-04-30T19:40:00.000-04:00

this year was long
now it's gone

okay it's official i have lost interest in this thing. happens at least once a year, nothing personal. i'll get back to it when the novelty of spring weather wears away.

peace

2006-04-27T13:49:00.000-04:00

struck down by a hammer

have you ever gotten sick, and then every couple of days it feels like whoa, i am freshly sick all over again?

i have been working hard on a new track, and i've made the tough decision to throw this song in the garbage after days of work.

do you know how to use a compressor? i sure don't. i'm beginning to learn. and here's what i've learned -- if you use a compressor too heavily it will result in the irreversible fuckupification of all your work.

a compressor is an implement designed to make loud sounds quieter, thus increasing the overall volume of something.

2006-04-23T22:57:00.000-04:00

what i need... is an artist's pseudonym. i don't want anyone to know it's me. and i want everyone to think i am an entire band.

sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo gimme one

2006-04-21T02:20:00.000-04:00

don't wanna be crippled, cracked

there's this dizee rascal track, fix up look sharp, that amazes me. makes me feel like everything i'm doing is aimed in the wrong direction. the more i listen to music the more i feel like abandoning rock and roll to the pros and just making beats on my rap master 2000.

my diagnosis, my diagnosis is this, my diagnosis

i have to add some guitar tracks to bring things around. i have to add synthesizer tracks too, as always. also i need to place a microphone in a room and do the entire song in one take. multiple vocals is what you do when you are trying to create a mood. if you want to get to the point you just say what you've got and you mean it... once. that's the working hypothesis. i'll try it tomorrow.

the message is motivational

2006-04-20T13:37:00.000-04:00

i know you want a big man
so you can hide away in his hands

this is getting frustrating

yesterday i recorded all the vocals to the song that i am working on, and today i listened back and deleted them all in a fit of disappointment. the only thing i kept was a general reference to how they're supposed to go.

hours of work in the cute little recycling bin.

i feel completely unfocused, like everything is so complicated and there are loose ends and loose wires sticking out everywhere. i think i have too many microphones and am trying too many new things, and it's keeping me from getting a decent track.

it's going to need a lot of work, and i have to start at the beginning again.

mo money mo problems.

2006-04-16T20:25:00.000-04:00

no excuses

i can only sit down to write when there is music playing, because my cpu fan is so warped and loud that it scratches at my ears. it rises and falls in this melancholic drone, like it's depressed or something. i've even recorded the sound, and i wish you could hear it. too bad there is no flickr for audio.

i'm listening to a band called the robocop kraus, which i saw on the wedge one time. i tell you what -- they're real easy to like. so check them out if you can.

the wedge is one of the few programs on muchmusic which plays music videos, as opposed to three-minute lifestyle advertisements. well, let's not forget that there's also no shortage of reality programming.

if i were to write a telegraph to muchmusic, it would go something like this:

stop. stop. stop it. stop.

and that's about it.

you know what? life is good. it just is.

2006-04-14T12:12:00.000-04:00

letting the days go by

i was watching a cartoon called the grim adventures of billy and mandy yesterday, and something interesting happened.

grim, the grim reaper, is having a nice dream where he comes home to his wife, they eat dinner, they snuggle by the fire. then he perks up and says "wait, this is not my beautiful house, this is not my beautiful wife!" as he is waking up from the dream, billy speaks into his ear "same as it ever was same as it ever was same as it ever was"

that's pretty fucking cool

jesus sez: hey kids, you don't have to work or go to school today

boy is it nice to not have to go to work on a day like this. a spring day. what with a seven day work schedule, i find i fully and completely appreciate any days off that come my way.

i finished the bed tracks for a song yesterday. it is nearing completion. i had planned on doing vocals today, but it probably won't happen because i can only scream in an empty house.

but if this tune turns out well i will share it with you all.

2006-04-12T23:16:00.000-04:00

my brain's the weak heart, and my heart's the long stairs

i took all these pictures of mountains a long time ago. now when i look at them they don't make any sense. it just looks like rocks. maybe i didn't do it right, or maybe my camera isn't good enough, but there's nothing on any of the photos that capture what it was really like to see those things. maybe i'm easily wooed.

i listened to a cbc radio documentary on lucid dreams last night. i've never had one of those, but here is the dream i had afterwards.

jake dylan asked me to help him dismantle some large metal framed towers left over on the alcan industrial grounds. he wanted to keep them as souvenirs, and i think i was to drive a truck. i went over there and saw him walking in the snow wearing a tough masculine jacket. i said i would help. later on my mother told me that the area was contaminated with heavy metals and that i shouldn't go near it. so i eventually decided not to help jake dylan, but i think letting him know was embarassing and kind of difficult.

here is my take: don't jump to committments you shouldn't make.

and why jake dylan? i don't know anything about him.

2006-04-11T23:14:00.000-04:00

i believed it was in focus at the time

everything i'm trying to write feels stupid, so i'll spare you

y'all are great who read and comment here, so i put up links

2006-04-10T16:45:00.000-04:00

workin' full time!

i'm always behind on everything, it's stupid.

okay but these rooms are finally clean.

i'm no more caught up on life, but i do feel like i have an organized base of operations from which to strike at the heart of the beast. it eases my mind.

if i'm gonna make peace with unfettered capitalism, then i'd better crack the fuckin' whip.

i'm working on manufacturing consent now, that famous volume. it doesn't mean i'm a hippie socialist. it doesn't mean anything. i'm not anything. i just love absorbing knowledge.

but i've also picked up on the road, and naked lunch. so those are in the queue. i don't know what to expect from either of them. except maybe lots of drugs and sex and wierdness.

i remember seeing about five minutes of the naked lunch movie several years ago, and nearly barfing. boy, just when you think you'll never see a typewriter sodomize a man... boom, there it is.

i've tapped into this part of me i didn't know existed. the hard-working part. i go to work and abuse my body all day long by lifting heavy things and climbing up and down ladders. non-stop. it feels good. maybe it's penance!

2006-04-09T00:03:00.000-04:00

you feed me chemicals, i feel unnatural

every light i turn on in this room illuminates more of the absurd fucking mess it has become, i just don't wanna turn them on

it's time to take out the trash, literally

i had a shower last night, because i had to wash all the toronto off of me

i was there on official scholarly business, but allocated most of my time to leisurely pursuits (i.e. botched martinis).

i strolled my favourite streets and checked out my favourite shops, and saw a lot of things that reminded me that there's a lot not to miss about that place... like a lot of attitude

i spent this evening watching a documentary film called loose change (can be found all over the internet for free), and reading detailed pieces from various sources regarding the 9/11 attacks. i read debunkings, de-debunkings, rebuttals, all kindsa crap.

my conclusions:

things in life are complicated. this movie was pretty entertaining. it was also pretty immature and full of questionable allegations. debunkings of it are peppered with questionable rebuttals. some of the people who praise the film are conspiracy cranks. some of the official information doesn't add up. lots of things haven't been explained. i don't know much of anything.

pretty much everything i experience in life leads me to similar conclusions.

2006-04-04T10:42:00.000-04:00

ronnie h pursued his cure well into the stars

kalan porter was up for artist of the year in some big award thing that i wouldn't pay attention to anyways, and it is bizarro world where bad behaviour is reinforced through positive encouragement

ever see the commercials they have on television? it starts with the kids complaining. they're bored, or they're irritated, or they're angry. the solution, handed down from the seller, is to buy something. that's how it's set up. the kids have a problem, and the solution is to buy them something.

the rest of us know that the problem is the kids and their attitudes. the solution is probably a pete sampras backhand. or maybe a long diatribe followed by a detailed explanation of why they are acting like little bitches, and how they can go about not being little bitches.

we also see that the problem is rex goudie, and kalan porter, and nickelback. the solution is not to reward them with awards and close-up photos that show how glossy and boyish they really are. the solution is to take them down a notch.

there is a place for that bland music, and clearly an audience. but it is not the only music. we need to start celebrating artistic achievement, expression, and inventiveness. we need to not reward slick good looks and slick four minute pop songs, neither of which will last into next week.

if i am a twelve year old kid, unsure of myself, insecure, confused by the earth, i need to be able to switch on a television set at 4:00 pm and be able to choose between hedley and broken social scene. or both.

2006-03-30T21:52:00.000-05:00

red-a judgement a blaze, blaze

i guess i'm in a dark period for photos. whatever, goes nice with the background.

i finally watched ghost world last night. to me, at this age, i saw it as a movie about a young person who has no idea what she wants and doesn't know how to figure it out.

i've pretty much done the post-secondary thing already, and i still feel that way. so it meant something to me.

i relate to both characters in a lot of ways (the steve buscemi and thora birch ones).

my favourite thing about it is the way that enid changes throughout the movie. half an hour in i remember thinking man, this girl is such a bitch! i can't stand her. but by the end she was different.

ever since buying a coffee machine, my coffee consumption has dramatically increased. it's an industrial type machine that is meant to be left on all the time too, so it is so easy to make a pot. i see no problem with any of this, yet.

2006-03-28T22:18:00.000-05:00

we are living in a consumerist world, and i am a consumerist... boy... man... whatever

there were only two things i wanted to get out of my employee discount -- cookware and a coffee maker

today i bought the latter, and man does this machine swing.

i have talked many times about u2 on this blog. so you may know by now that i'm not private about being a fan, but i don't actively tell anyone about it because everyone hates them.

when the sweetest thing first came out i had been a long-time fan (since probably the age of eight) and classed it as the newer, shittier u2. now, when i hear it at work i find myself digging it.

i feel like i got some sort of hipster snob phase out of the way when i was a preteen, which is probably better than waiting until college or some shit.

who knows, maybe in another ten years i'll find myself liking that stuck in a moment garbage. okay, maybe not.

2006-03-27T18:42:00.000-05:00

oh yes, we're gonna have a wing-ding

here is a story, with some kind of moral

when it comes to playing the drums, my favourite way to practice is by playing along with records. but the trick is, you have to use really terrible, unspeakably awful pop music. with numerous and glaring exceptions, of course.

anyways, big hitmaker pop songs are so bloated and meaningless that in order to get a drummer to play it in a studio they have to pay someone. they want the most bang for their buck so they hire the best of the best. if you listen to terrible music, the drumming is usually amazing, even if it doesn't cut through.

the drummers in my very favourite bands actually aren't all that good, and are by and large not trained. they are more of a piece in a beautiful puzzle. i want to take what studio session pros do on pop records, and apply it to music that is a little more alive.

so i have a collection of embarrassing songs that i won't even go into describing.

i won't buy a record just to get one song, so obviously illegal downloading is the key (like with most things in life). across the board, the hardest songs to get on peer to peer networks are big empty hit songs. the easiest ones to get are the ones with the most soul (even if they are difficult to locate at times).

the record companies try so hard to protect this shit. harder than anyone else. they don't want to let you have a piece of it unless they can control it.

somehow, somewhere, this is like a chinese finger trap.

if you look at my record collection, it mirrors (rather than complements) my hard drive of mp3s. when i hear something i truly like, i have to buy it. the digitally encoded files aren't enough.

i don't know WHAT the moral is here, but you decide. it'll be like art... i don't have to explain myself, except to say that you have to get what you get out of it.

2006-03-22T21:05:00.000-05:00

oh how i meant to tease him

at work i felt like i had stayed at a party too long

like when you all end up sitting around the living room drinking, too tired to say anything. and there's music wailing in the background having never been adjusted to after party volume. feeling sick and tired.

2006-03-21T23:50:00.000-05:00

if you're going to write a comedy sketch, you're going to have some rat feces in there

anyways, so here's the deal:

when i listen to soul sacrifice, i feel something. fiery, reaching, grasping for something.

when i listen to smooth featuring rob thomas, i feel nothing. i shrug my shoulders. middle-aged people dance to it.

even though it's the same carlos santana. and i don't think his age has anything to do with it.

i'm not even into santana really, but it's all about motives and intentions.

2006-03-18T01:27:00.000-05:00

every poet is a thief

i have just seen the film i heart huckabee's. what a trip man.

yes i seem to wait until a long time after a thing is popular to explore it. i don't do it on purpose, but when i think about it i think that it works. there's no longer any hype on this film, the trailers are long forgotten, awards (which are meaningless to me in every way already) are in the past. i get to take in what's there, and what's there alone.

i definitely feel like an albert... with less conviction. anyways, the basic stuff is there. but i've known a lot of brads. i found myself empathizing wholeheartedly with the brads of the world.

constantly straining to charm everyone... how hard is it to live like that? i'll never know. albert is certainly no world class example either, but i tend to be more interested in things and characters that are very different from myself. i guess none of this makes sense unless you've seen the film, which would be a good idea.

2006-03-18T01:15:00.000-05:00

y'arrrgh

i get this burning feeling when people are dropping names

it burns harshest when i feel they are marking some kind of territory in doing so

i don't know where it burns (physically), i don't think about it until it's happening -- i'll get back to you on that, if it's even relevant

i don't even know what it is. i have never hated anything more in my life than i hate phoniness and territoriality... but the more i think about it the more i think i may just be jealous, which is a hard thing to face.

i mean maybe i'm jealous of the attention, the rewards. jealous that i don't fit into the general scheme that: if you know something, you have to speak up immediately and own it, before anyone else gets a chance. i know a lot of stuff, but i can't do this thing. i lose by definition because i refuse to play. i am disqualified.

it's like okay buddy, we all lead our own lives, we all do our own research (if we give a fuck). there should be an assumption that we all know the basic pronouns relating to whatever topic we're discussing. but barring even that, there's a way to say the name of a thing without imbuing ownership.

2006-03-17T10:57:00.000-05:00

why can't i touch it?

i have been slinging big shiny things and sinking into the earth

still struggling in the studio. and by studio i mean whatever you want to call the room in which i'm currently sitting. it's more of a state of mind... okay, i feel like creating something, therefore this living room is now a studio. by the way, if you meet someone who tries to impress you by telling you he has a home studio... laugh his ass right into next week. will you do that for me? thanks.

getting more gear only complicates things, don't let anyone tell you different. just say no, kids. if a man on the street corners you and offers you a brand new microphone... first one's free... you tell him no.

i am postponing matters on this song i've been trying to do, because i don't have time anymore. by the time i set up and try to record a track, it's time to go to whatever the fuck job it is i have that day. so don't you worry, it'll come, eventually.

reaching a personal best is like chopping at a wrist. it takes starter slits, forceful blows, and cracking twists to seperate the bony mitt from its mate.

no doctor in the land can save the hand, but then to us it is no more necessary than to a desert a grain of sand.

i must have wrists on the mind.

we find redemption in the fellows that flank us, and that's all i have to say about that

2006-03-14T23:25:00.000-05:00

some violence is good for morning

that cute girl from ottawa is right, blogging is a fuckin' high school

and i'm the janitor

the one who boils your hot dogs

the one who leaves the topmost buttons undone to reveal a fat gold chain bedded in a soft patch of european chest hair

i'm just here to do my job

2006-03-13T23:54:00.000-05:00

on back

i started this thing as an adventure series
choose your own
the power
to change
is within us
every day
a simple statement
not without its naievete
but a statement
linking you to me

if this reasoning takes us anywhere
we're certain to believe
a heart that craves the certainty
will probably freeze

2006-03-13T22:13:00.000-05:00

cooking... like with a pan... and fire

i am thinking of buying a lomo, maybe a holga... if these words mean nothing they must be googled

i am not the broke tramp i once was

if i do so, i will have need of a scanner in order to provide photos, but damn it... it's an exciting prospect

i am watching free enterprise

if you are reading regularly you will think i am a movie person, but know that i have rented three movies and this is the third in as many days

i'm not liking it as much as i did when i was 19, so i started drinking alcohol, and now it makes more sense

especially the bill shatner scenes

2006-03-13T00:37:00.000-05:00

the heart that craves the certainty
will probably freeze

i am ON to something here, man

last night i don't know what it was, maybe tiredness or the movie i watched or whatever else but i felt drunk on something and compelled to write so i scrawled out a bunch of ballpoint BS as fast as i could

it resulted in, i believe, the finishing lyric of a song i've always wanted to scrap and re-do. i plan on getting started with it this week, and i may even have a new song for y'all by the end of the week. it's a little early to tell.

tonight i watched american movie, it made me think a lot about myself and about creative pursuits, and most of all about the futility of it all

i tried to explain it but the backspace button was easier

2006-03-12T01:18:00.000-05:00

after laughter comes tears

the nightfly is a pretty ridiculous record, but i like it. donald fagen of steely dan's work. if you're desensitized to steely dan's ridiculous moments, you'd love it too. also if you have a thing for drummers who can emulate drum machines, that's another thing to love.

i have just watched the film slacker, a richard linklater JOINT. i have wanted to see it since i was about twelve, and i saw it sitting on the coffee table, having been brought home by my brother who worked in a video store at the time and brought home an endless revolving door lineup of films. that's how i saw mallrats, clerks, pulp fiction, and probably hundreds of others.

it's loaded with late eighties indie rock.

i think this was the perfect time for me to see it. it's good that i waited so long. one thing is for sure, i AM a slacker.

but film-wise, wow man, i haven't felt so engaged in a very long time... so check it out

okay here's an idea -- nes controllers around the world -- photos of the thing in famous places. eh? maybe?

this blog entry is written under duress! i have pressing things pressing me. they're... ughhh, pressing up against me.

2006-03-11T21:41:00.000-05:00

an independent station
w j a z

i'm ashamed of where i work... people i know come in and i hide

when i'm working, i do the same thing i did when i was a young child in a department store... i duck through aisles and search in drawers, open little doors, play with the stuff i see

little has fuckin' changed!

we played country music in the store today, and this lady left a note after making her purchases. i truly wish i could have scanned it for your amusement.

she was very angry about the music. she said WHY DOES THE MUSIC HAVE TO BE SO LOUD, and that we should play EASY LISTENING MUSIC / BACKGROUND MUSIC...

NOT HEAVY METAL
NOT ROCK
NOT COUNTRY

THESE ARE STYLES MEANT FOR BARS AND CLUBS and something or other, i don't remember

it boggles my mind that a person could be so specific. philisophically speaking, i could have a field day with this person's comments. they raise so many issues.

in the end it's just funny. so very, very funny.

just as a final post script to the whole thing -- the music in the store is pretty quiet, and is composed entirely of pop radio hits

2006-03-09T23:39:00.000-05:00

who keeps it running?

i am not getting anything done.

so the plan is this. i search (exhaustively) the classifieds, curbsides, the seaside, and citizens astride for rental housing in the countryside

if i find something cheap enough, i move in for the summer. i set up shop, and begin producing a record.

artist's retreat, very romantic. unlikely, but fun to fantasize about.

so good luck to me.

2006-03-08T22:57:00.000-05:00

i will pray to a big god
as i kneel in the big church

well i didn't do it*... but not because i chickened out. it's because i felt like a zombie and fell asleep. i was hungover today and i spent all my energy playing the drums, so i just physically crashed after work. like, way worse than you'd imagine.

i went to the guitar store to look at fender mustangs. there were two frankenstangs (old and new parts) that sounded good but looked a little off. the only original mustang was $1450... out of the question! fucking hipsternomics, that's what that bullshit is.

i keep hearing that song by that guy from alexisonfire, and i like it more each time. that's a sign of a good piece of work.

*open mic

2006-03-07T01:04:00.000-05:00

mold me fold me keep me silent
i get drunk, i get violent

what a life this is that i lead stifled and sorry and starved in the darkness of such a comfortable harness but still starry eyed

isn't that the thing? the waiting? i think sometimes i define myself by waiting, which of course makes it true. what a bunch of bullllllshit! i need to quit a job or something.

i need to focus earnestly on my craft and await tenacious d to swoop in and check on my progress.

my craft is music, not any of the junk you see on this ridicu-blog

the only thing i hate more than mopiness is go-gettery

2006-03-04T22:28:00.000-05:00

you're not allowed to speak into the thingy

it's time to quit becoming fatter off the batter of a murky life in a deep fried basement encasement

coated with the oil of blood and toil

bloated with unnatainable goals

and power lines tower over our troubled minds
chiming with electromagnetic tines

the power is within us

emboldened of tight fists we fight first and ask questions whenever the fuck we see fit

2006-03-04T01:08:00.000-05:00

all is calm and all is right

my favourite thing about the internet is flickr

my favourite thing about flickr is the phoTOGraphy

my least favourite thing about flickr is the comments, go away ya dumb sycophantic hipsters

oh i'm not talking about comments made about my photos, there aren't any

i've gotten a lot of compliments on my photos here on the blog through the years and it fills me with great joy

but every once in a while i like to stress that i'm not a photographer

if you want to see what real photography looks like go here

like it or lump it... that, my friends, is art

i have set in stone that i must play the open mic night on wednesday the next

if i don't do it, i want you all to turn your backs on me

i have been threatening to perform for a year now, but never did it

and there is a big zit behind my ear

2006-03-01T21:00:00.000-05:00

for the love or money, i know kids'll slit your throat
friday the thirteenth, jason in a trench coat

i tell the guy that breville is an australian company and that they make kickass blenders, and he tells me he'd rather "keep a canadian or american in a job than an australian"

take a good look around you painfully obsolete man, take in those cheap chinese fumes

because no matter which giant corporation you go with, that's what you're gettin'

fierce nationalism is so cute!

i bought an emo hoodie to accessorize, to exercise my right to transform overnight into an emo knight

all i need to complete the transformation is cuffs upturned and a lip piercing

i don't want either of those things

that is enough pictures of me

2006-02-27T22:35:00.000-05:00

and the perils of being in 3d

i keep listening to too much, the dave matthews tune... just trying to figure out what is going on with the hi-hat cymbal. it sounds pretty straightforward, but there's something about the feel of it that i can't wrap my mind around. i get obsessive over this kind of thing.

my impairments have made it necessary that i get glasses... again... for the fourth time.

what a decision there, man. you walk into a room and there's thousands of frames hanging on the walls, and... you get one. i did what i could.

if you point a camera at yourself and click the button, and you are wearing glasses, you will always look like someone who has a myspace account and listens to a band called When The Leaves Dried And Cracked And Turned To Dust The Dust Blew With The Wind And Into My Pond Of Solitude

2006-02-26T18:44:00.000-05:00

just not much to write about right now

2006-02-22T22:21:00.000-05:00

languor rises reaching

it's like when you mix up two people in msn conversations and realize how much differently you talk to this one guy than you do to that girl, and you suddenly realize how far you have to go to bridge the gap

it's unspoken, like when you walk into the den and your dad is watching LEXX, and of course you know he's never been a sci-fi fan

it's like the urge to press the reset button, clean the slate, even though you can't you still want to

sadly life is not a god damn NES

but what if it was? everytime i hit that damn button it was out of frustration, and i just ended up fucking things up earlier and earlier.

i want to say i'd waste the opportunity to start it all new, and that's my cynical nature clearly shining through. what do you think you would do with it?

in the end you have your own stuff

you have to build your own world, and you can't issue stop-work orders to your construcktion crue every time someone utters a challenging word

and this message is for me above all else

2006-02-22T01:29:00.000-05:00

when i'm lush and on my run

here's something i didn't know

i guess that those guys who hate french people and france like to spell the word with a W... as in fwench, fwance, fwenchmen.

isn't that wild stuff? i think that the joke is that somehow french people sound like that, but if you have ever met a french person you'll know that it's not quite accurate.

hating frenchmen is easy. you never really have to confront your victims or answer for it.

all they play at my job anymore is country music

well... new country, smooth country, every corner rounded country, country that's afraid to say anything your demographic doesn't want to hear.

christian conservative culture is breathing down my neck all day long. i promise to be good.

this is what freedom costs.

2006-02-21T02:39:00.000-05:00

that we dare, in this funeral air

okay here's a switch

i've always hated john mayer, that was my prejudice

since i'm in a constant state of atonement i am admitting it and making amends

...but that doesn't mean i'll EVER listen to that body/wonderland shite

he has a newish record called TRY! and i do like it, in fact i like it a lot

on it, he utilises a new backup band made of serious musicians whose names i won't mention because they only mean something to musicians, and all musicians are douches anyways, but suffice to say IT'S A GROOVE MAN

if you love listening to the drums and the bass and tolerating john mayer, you'll love it too

2006-02-20T02:53:00.000-05:00

relax

take on the attacks
that start in the heart
and end up in the wrist
roll back those sleeves
shake those keys
until you've slathered my monitor with sleaze

but do it with eeeeeeeaze