Enter the Cheese

listening to Sigur Ros - Hoppipolla

I confess to being a cheesy movie buff. Not even joking. Back when I was living in Burnaby, Alpha and I would go to the theaters on a regular basis; not to see great quality flicks, but to see the stuff that looked really enjoyable. Like Mr. Magoriums Wonder Emporium (great movie by the way). I guess I just never stopped watching cheesy movies after that. I went to see Speed Racer in the Imax, and Sammy and I were the only two people in the entire theater, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I've watched countless other cheesy movies, animated flicks, kids movies that were actually really fun to watch. Tonight I watched Penelope. I know. It was surprisingly good though. Sure it had its kitschy moments, but overall it told a really good story and actually had something to it, unlike a lot of comedies these days. Plus, it ended with Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros. What's not to love.

Soundmime

Spiral

Bad things come in pairs, or that's the hope. It's unfortunate, but I missed a class in philosophy of religion. Unfortunate because when I went to class yesterday I realized that the class I missed had been the midterm. Unfortunate because I could have easily aced it. Unfortunate because it was worth 30% of my mark. So I drop it like it's Pluto and I feel a lot better. The class sucked anyways and I still have a full time course load without it. So we're good right, but it still sucked. This morning it just gets worse. The car is having transmission problems, it wont stay in gear, but I take it to school anyways, thinking that it's not too bad. I actually make it all the way to Langley before it loses all functionality. I creep in 1st to Langley Center, park the car, and take a bus to school. I'm a good half an hour late because I missed my connection at the Newton exchange by about 1 minute. It turns out all right, but I still have to bus it back to Langley to find a garage for the car. Woo hoo, sounds fun. So I hope bad things only come in pairs because I don't think I could take anything more. For instance, what if my car were stolen. Now that would truly suck.

Park Ranger

Exercise your Franchise

Did you know that, to vote, all you have to have at the polls is somebody to sign for you to say that you are who you say you are. That's pretty easy to find. That's stinking easy to find. Do you work today? Is that the excuse you're using to not vote? I'll tell you what, your employer is legally obligated to give you time off work to vote. Take that time. Vote. Did you realize it was voting day late in the afternoon and you don't think you'll have time to hit the polls? They're open until 7:00 tonight; just don't wait too long, do it now. Do you not have transportation to the polls? They should be walking distance, get some fresh air. If they're not, phone the NDP and they might be able to give you a ride (you don't even have to be voting for them). Elections Canada has a handy polling station finder on their website if you don't know where to vote. People, there is really no reason why you shouldn't exercise your franchise and vote. The most commonly used excuse, however, is that people simply don't like any of the candidates. That's the worst load of crap I've ever heard. If you really thought about, you would at least find a candidate that wasn't quite as bad as the others. Choose one and vote. This is serious stuff people.

Pipe Smoking Professor

Whatever happened to White Trash and Beardo

listening to New and Improved Nummy Mixtape - Various Artists

Turn it on shuffle, it needs mixing.
They say that most geniuses produce their greatest works before 30, most of them earlier. That doesn't leave me much time.
I was taking a walk this evening in Aldergrove, wearing shorts, a big old jacket, no socks with shoes, and a toque covering my nearly bald head. I was wondering where I was headed when I realized what I looked like. For all the time that I lived in Summerland I had inhabited the hobo look, but now, as I walked the streets of Aldergrove, I was quintessential white trash. And I thought, "Whatever happened to White Trash and Beardo?". It was a good question so I pulled it up on my computer when I got home. It's seven stanzas in and it's beautiful as it sits, but it's only the very beginning of the story. I think the reason it's so short right now, the reason I have been so slow with writing it, is that I love it. I'm in love with the concept, I'm in love with the story, it's like my favorite child, I look at it as my best piece to date and I honestly don't know that I could write something better. Therein lies my dilemma, I know that I'm not a great writer, I know that my skills are not developed, and I know what would happen if I tried to write it now. It simply wouldn't live up to all that it could be. So do I wait on it, do I let it get stale? I am, in this moment, the embodiment of white trash; I feel like I need to capture that feeling, bottle it like dandelion wine*, put it on paper so I don't ever forget it. This moment is crucial.

fool sitting here typing

darkness at the edge of dawn

I was feeling really out of sorts yesterday. I hadn't been getting enough sleep (it's 3:52 am right now), my pols classes had been really boring, my philosophy class that I had waited on campus for hours for was cancelled, I was having trouble finishing "Don't Waste Your Life" (it's finished now), and the time spent waiting for my philosophy class was spent watching a really stupid movie (Saved). So I sat down and poured out my frustration onto the page. It's pretty dark and strange, so be forewarned.

Drowning Out the Demons

vampire, you are drowning out the demons
stay your hand
stop your unadulterated sidewalk signage
they are whores
but you are breaking up their broken homes
vampire, you refuse to look in a mirror
so look at me
so tell me you have white hands
vampire, you are burning witches every day
so burn me
just tell me that you feel the fire
vampire, it's just you now
the last suspect has just been stoned
se tell me that it's me
so roll out your guillotine
or just a kiss of death
one on either cheek


fool sitting here typing

Aldergrove Rockstar Sangiovese '08

listening to Sam Roberts - Love at the End of the World (album)

I've come to a point where it's not worth my money to keep X. There's a certain amount of insurance money that I could get back and taking the bus is cheaper than paying for gas. The only problem is that I can't seem to part with X. I feel like a father who's going to sell his child because he can't afford to keep him. That just feels heartless, you have no idea.
Last week I emailed in one of the best pieces I've ever written. It was Monday night and I decided that I was going to pull an all-nighter and finish it, because I was already late. I went out and bought a 12 pack of Rockstar for the fridge and plowed my way through it. If any of you know the way that I study, you'll know that it's the worst possible way. Before I actually write a word I will do everything else that it's possible to do, and then, if I'm still awake, I'll buckle down and do what I need to do. Well, it turns out you can do a lot in one night (have you ever heard of the band Cibo Matto). Eventually, however, I started typing. I actually had a really good story lined up to write, that any other day i would have enjoyed typing, but the fact that i had to do it made it really hard. I only drank 4 of the Rockstars (I found out later that it was about double the amount that an adult can usually consume without feeling the side effects (I don't think I was doing that bad (then again, I was shaking all over on my way to school))), but at 6:15 in the morning, right before I left, I emailed in my short story. And it was brilliant. I don't like to brag about my stuff, but this was straight up good. Anyways, the point is that I am living proof that all-nighters work (although the next day I didn't wake up until both my classes were over).

Park Ranger

RADIANT

I am radiant
a lone beacon in a dirty underground
I am radiant
white heat on the road to nowhere
flashbulb underwater
a torch in a room full of stale air
let it shine
burning bush in the desert night
I am radiant
cold reflection of shiny and bright
I am radiant
warm fire at the top of the mountain climb
lonely lighthouse
not going away with the summertime
swampwater firefly
this little light aint a candle, but I flicker and burn
I twist when the wind blows, in the tunnels I turn
runnning out of control on a highway, my high beams
slow down traffic, like burning matches slow my heartbeat
a little slow tonight for my daydreams,
but little do I know I'm like a mirror
or a nickle on the pavement
reflecting what you're saying
I am radiant


pipe smoking professor