Went for a walk the other day and as soon as I got out of the door I smelled Autumn. It's just a subtle smell, but it's one of my favorites. It was overcast, but down the road there were still men out in their yards, mowing or trimming hedges. It's as though they knew what was coming and were trying to push it back, filling the air with the smell of freshly mown grass to cover the deadly scent of fall.
I do love the summer, but in the same way I like the winter, because it's a fun season. Autumn, however, is something special. In Autumn the leaves turn, you start smelling woodsmoke, there's a crispness in the air, everything is dying in the fall, but it's in passing that nature is its most beautiful. I don't subscribe to the season of spring. It's still pretty decent, especially at the end of a long cold winter, but there's not the same mystery as the Autumn.
The other part of the fall is that November is the saddest month of the entire year. September is back to school, new beginnings, a new year. October is color and fire and the joie de vivre is in everything. But November is like purgatory, everything dies in November, but we're still left waiting for the winter. It rains in November, not a warm spring rain, but a bitter rain. In the spring it's tears of joy, but in November it's tear of sadness.
So I welcome the smell of Autumn. I won't fight against it like the yardmen and lawnmowers. I'll embrace it.
smell it in the air
all the yardmen push it back
but fall is coming
Saturday, 23 August 2008
Wednesday, 6 August 2008
Dropping the Bomb
listening to K-os - Love Song
today is the anniversary of Hiroshima's destruction, nuclear style. How does one celebrate such an auspicious occasion? How indeed, one may set of fireworks or burn a mock-city, Guy Fawkes style. One might take some time, have a moment of silence. Reading Watchmen again a few days ago and realize how hard it is for me to take a position on it. We grew up taught that destroying Hiroshima was the only way to end a bloody war, that it was neccessary. It's true in a way, if Hiroshima hadn't been bombed, and Nagasaki a couple of days later, the resulting casualties from the invasion of japan would have been greater than the loss of life in both cities.
listening to Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World
That's not all we have to consider. You might call into account the deaths from radiation poisoning after the fact, you might call into account that we introduced the single worst weapon of mass destruction in history. We introduced mustard gas in the first world war and changed the face of warfare. Splitting the atom changed it again, just as radically. There's no real defence from nukes, and we're making more and better/worse ones all the time. If a nuclear war started now, at this late stage, we'd be looking at the collapse of civilization as we know it, literally a man-made doomsday. We unleashed something we didn't fully understand.
listening to Leonard Cohen - Hallelujah
If we hadn't dropped the bomb we would still have nuclear weapons today, they still would have been developed, even if the Americans hadn't done it. If the war had have gone on, where would we be today, I don't know. It may have been another Vietnam. What would we have to become to win the war, what did we become? The people that would have died, would have been mostly soldiers, they knew what they were getting into. The people that did die were civilians, they were "innocent". But really, what's the difference? They're all people. We mourn them all the same. I've never really been able to fully come to terms with whether it was right or wrong, and there's always been something nagging me that says I should know. That we all should know. That if the time comes again to make that decision, that we would make the right decision. It's something we really have to understand, but it takes knowing ourselves for what we really are. It takes looking at who we are (our history defines us) and facing the fact that we may have been wrong. That we may have done something profoundly wrong. I don't know how I should celebrate, or if I should, maybe the only way to honor its history would be to search it out, to find out for ourselves if we were right or if we were wrong.
pipesmokingprofessor
today is the anniversary of Hiroshima's destruction, nuclear style. How does one celebrate such an auspicious occasion? How indeed, one may set of fireworks or burn a mock-city, Guy Fawkes style. One might take some time, have a moment of silence. Reading Watchmen again a few days ago and realize how hard it is for me to take a position on it. We grew up taught that destroying Hiroshima was the only way to end a bloody war, that it was neccessary. It's true in a way, if Hiroshima hadn't been bombed, and Nagasaki a couple of days later, the resulting casualties from the invasion of japan would have been greater than the loss of life in both cities.
listening to Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World
That's not all we have to consider. You might call into account the deaths from radiation poisoning after the fact, you might call into account that we introduced the single worst weapon of mass destruction in history. We introduced mustard gas in the first world war and changed the face of warfare. Splitting the atom changed it again, just as radically. There's no real defence from nukes, and we're making more and better/worse ones all the time. If a nuclear war started now, at this late stage, we'd be looking at the collapse of civilization as we know it, literally a man-made doomsday. We unleashed something we didn't fully understand.
listening to Leonard Cohen - Hallelujah
If we hadn't dropped the bomb we would still have nuclear weapons today, they still would have been developed, even if the Americans hadn't done it. If the war had have gone on, where would we be today, I don't know. It may have been another Vietnam. What would we have to become to win the war, what did we become? The people that would have died, would have been mostly soldiers, they knew what they were getting into. The people that did die were civilians, they were "innocent". But really, what's the difference? They're all people. We mourn them all the same. I've never really been able to fully come to terms with whether it was right or wrong, and there's always been something nagging me that says I should know. That we all should know. That if the time comes again to make that decision, that we would make the right decision. It's something we really have to understand, but it takes knowing ourselves for what we really are. It takes looking at who we are (our history defines us) and facing the fact that we may have been wrong. That we may have done something profoundly wrong. I don't know how I should celebrate, or if I should, maybe the only way to honor its history would be to search it out, to find out for ourselves if we were right or if we were wrong.
pipesmokingprofessor
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Parallel Universes
listening to MGMT - Time to Pretend
Today I went to the Summerland Health Center to get my foot re-x-rayed. I crutched and hobbled all the way from Orchard Crescent to the Tim Hortons and got a ride up the hill because at that point I was too exhausted and my arms hurt too much to really consider scaling it on crutch. I was fifteen minutes late because I had thought the appointment was at Dr. B Harrold's office. I was also fifteen minutes early at Dr. Harrold's office to put the distance in perspective. Fortunately, even though they book every ten minutes, the x-ray specialist took pity and slotted me in. I didn't get any results back today, but I'm going for an appointment with Dr. Harrold next week, I've got my fingers crossed (really, it's getting pretty hard to type (with my fingers crossed, I wasn't referring to the foot (although it would be pretty crazy to learn how to type with one's feet))). As I was walking through the lobby I saw someone familiar and said hi (it took me a moment to realize I actually did know them) and she stared at me for a full, awkward, long second before realizing who I was and said hi. The usual "what did you do to your foot" followed by "I broke it" and "are you still working at timmies" followed by "yes" and then an awkward silence followed by me mumbling something about having to go and walking out the door, and I realized that we really had absolutely nothing in common now I'm no longer working at tim hortons and a few months have gone by. It's almost as though we'd been inhabiting parallel universes for the last few months. And it's funny how often that happens. We change. And if you haven't seen someone for a long time it can be like getting to know an entirely new person. I know for myself that I change constantly. Sure there will be things that will always stay the same about me, but I'm not the same person that I was seven months ago and I never will be that person again. I know that when I move back to the coast there will be a lot of people that I'm good friends with that I will appear to be an entirely different person to. For the last 7 months I've inhabited and been influenced by an entirely different environment, a parallel universe, to the lower mainland. It's not better and it's not worse, but it's radically different. So I'm nervous, apprehensive, looking forward to seeing you, looking forward to getting to know you again. I haven't kept in touch that well, and for that I'm sorry, but I do miss you. So here's to meeting again in a month or so.
fool sitting here typing
Today I went to the Summerland Health Center to get my foot re-x-rayed. I crutched and hobbled all the way from Orchard Crescent to the Tim Hortons and got a ride up the hill because at that point I was too exhausted and my arms hurt too much to really consider scaling it on crutch. I was fifteen minutes late because I had thought the appointment was at Dr. B Harrold's office. I was also fifteen minutes early at Dr. Harrold's office to put the distance in perspective. Fortunately, even though they book every ten minutes, the x-ray specialist took pity and slotted me in. I didn't get any results back today, but I'm going for an appointment with Dr. Harrold next week, I've got my fingers crossed (really, it's getting pretty hard to type (with my fingers crossed, I wasn't referring to the foot (although it would be pretty crazy to learn how to type with one's feet))). As I was walking through the lobby I saw someone familiar and said hi (it took me a moment to realize I actually did know them) and she stared at me for a full, awkward, long second before realizing who I was and said hi. The usual "what did you do to your foot" followed by "I broke it" and "are you still working at timmies" followed by "yes" and then an awkward silence followed by me mumbling something about having to go and walking out the door, and I realized that we really had absolutely nothing in common now I'm no longer working at tim hortons and a few months have gone by. It's almost as though we'd been inhabiting parallel universes for the last few months. And it's funny how often that happens. We change. And if you haven't seen someone for a long time it can be like getting to know an entirely new person. I know for myself that I change constantly. Sure there will be things that will always stay the same about me, but I'm not the same person that I was seven months ago and I never will be that person again. I know that when I move back to the coast there will be a lot of people that I'm good friends with that I will appear to be an entirely different person to. For the last 7 months I've inhabited and been influenced by an entirely different environment, a parallel universe, to the lower mainland. It's not better and it's not worse, but it's radically different. So I'm nervous, apprehensive, looking forward to seeing you, looking forward to getting to know you again. I haven't kept in touch that well, and for that I'm sorry, but I do miss you. So here's to meeting again in a month or so.
fool sitting here typing
Monday, 28 July 2008
In Metronome
I was born on a cold day in Metronome
with the factories beating in time
and in an old, old cradle of sorts
my heart made the city's beat mine
now I grew up a son in the steely streets
my father the son of a beggar
and though the woman who gave me my life was alive
the city was my mother
and I would have no other
please come back to me woman in Metronome
you left me the day I was born
but I'll be waiting for you, here in Metronome
waiting for you to come home
as a young man I rode on the trolley car
and searched through the city for renassiance
I wrote my first poem about the sun
and I gave it to a friend
he took the first train getting out of here
and I never bothered to follow
though I miss them both and will shed a tear
I wouldn't take the train
and I know I would do it again
please come back to me here in Metronome
you have my words and my song
I'll be waiting for you, here in Metronome
waiting for you to come home
when I was a man my father died
as he walked from the house on the corner
he died in the streets with a pocket in his hand
and was washed into the gutter
for the city was his lover
interlude
it was another cold day in Metronome
and I found you in a cafe
we talked for hours until you went home
and I waited for you the next day
now each day I could find I would meet you there
and we'd ride on the trolley for hours
we'd sit on the tops of the factories
and visit the birds in the square
we thrilled just breathing the air
now the winter had passed and the spring had come
and I brought you factory flowers
then springtime passed by and the summer came
we walked in the shade or the shadow of towers
soon autumn had come into Metronome
then we felt the chill in the air
each day we would meet and go wandering
we loved and were loved in return
but November, November I should have known
I stood in the leaves in the square
I waited for you in the steely streets
I waited, but you were not there
and I cannot abandon cold Metronome
though I'd search the world entire
my heart beats in time with the factories
the beat of my heart would expire
though for you I would die
please come back to me darling in Metronome
without you my heart will go cold
I'll be waiting for you, here in Metronome
waiting for you to come home
with the factories beating in time
and in an old, old cradle of sorts
my heart made the city's beat mine
now I grew up a son in the steely streets
my father the son of a beggar
and though the woman who gave me my life was alive
the city was my mother
and I would have no other
please come back to me woman in Metronome
you left me the day I was born
but I'll be waiting for you, here in Metronome
waiting for you to come home
as a young man I rode on the trolley car
and searched through the city for renassiance
I wrote my first poem about the sun
and I gave it to a friend
he took the first train getting out of here
and I never bothered to follow
though I miss them both and will shed a tear
I wouldn't take the train
and I know I would do it again
please come back to me here in Metronome
you have my words and my song
I'll be waiting for you, here in Metronome
waiting for you to come home
when I was a man my father died
as he walked from the house on the corner
he died in the streets with a pocket in his hand
and was washed into the gutter
for the city was his lover
interlude
it was another cold day in Metronome
and I found you in a cafe
we talked for hours until you went home
and I waited for you the next day
now each day I could find I would meet you there
and we'd ride on the trolley for hours
we'd sit on the tops of the factories
and visit the birds in the square
we thrilled just breathing the air
now the winter had passed and the spring had come
and I brought you factory flowers
then springtime passed by and the summer came
we walked in the shade or the shadow of towers
soon autumn had come into Metronome
then we felt the chill in the air
each day we would meet and go wandering
we loved and were loved in return
but November, November I should have known
I stood in the leaves in the square
I waited for you in the steely streets
I waited, but you were not there
and I cannot abandon cold Metronome
though I'd search the world entire
my heart beats in time with the factories
the beat of my heart would expire
though for you I would die
please come back to me darling in Metronome
without you my heart will go cold
I'll be waiting for you, here in Metronome
waiting for you to come home
Invasion of the Clumsy Lovers
listening to Clumsy Lovers
I had an epic dream last night, a really great one. It was an invasion of the bodysnatchers dream, pretty similar to the new The Invasion one, but it still had the awesome pods from the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Either way it was pretty scary. It started out as Dad acting pretty strangely and I was getting kindof suspicious of him, but then Dad asked Mom something really personal and judging by the way she answered somehow I found out that it was actually the rest of the family that had already been changed into alien clones and only Dad and Alpha were still themselves. Anyways, we all had to get out of there to try and find a safe house or warn the government of the invasion already underway. Eventually we got seperated and ended up at this old warehouse. I don't know what happened to Alpha and Dad, but Alpha's Jetta was on the second floor of the warehouse and Dad's flatbed was in the parking lot. Also we had met up with this little boy who's parents had already been changed and he had ended up with me. So anyways I ran into the truck with the boy and we were trying to find the key, but we were being mobbed by the crazy emotionless changed people so we had to boot it out of the truck and up to Alpha's car on the second floor. The only problem was that it had somehow gotten onto the second floor and the only way to get it down was to back up and drive as fast as we could off the second floor balcony, and that's where my dream ended.
I try not to tell people my dreams because they're usually pretty crazy and I'm not the greatest at telling them, but when I have a really vivid one I can't help it. Credits for the eastcoast music go Ashley travelling in Newfoundland. In other news I've got a crazy cast on my foot/leg because the x-ray technician thinks the break extends into the joint on the bone so I'm still off work, but hopefully I can get it off in a week or so because it's getting pretty boring. Also I'm working on a sweet song called "In Metronome" which I'll post as soon as I'm done.
Park Ranger
I had an epic dream last night, a really great one. It was an invasion of the bodysnatchers dream, pretty similar to the new The Invasion one, but it still had the awesome pods from the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Either way it was pretty scary. It started out as Dad acting pretty strangely and I was getting kindof suspicious of him, but then Dad asked Mom something really personal and judging by the way she answered somehow I found out that it was actually the rest of the family that had already been changed into alien clones and only Dad and Alpha were still themselves. Anyways, we all had to get out of there to try and find a safe house or warn the government of the invasion already underway. Eventually we got seperated and ended up at this old warehouse. I don't know what happened to Alpha and Dad, but Alpha's Jetta was on the second floor of the warehouse and Dad's flatbed was in the parking lot. Also we had met up with this little boy who's parents had already been changed and he had ended up with me. So anyways I ran into the truck with the boy and we were trying to find the key, but we were being mobbed by the crazy emotionless changed people so we had to boot it out of the truck and up to Alpha's car on the second floor. The only problem was that it had somehow gotten onto the second floor and the only way to get it down was to back up and drive as fast as we could off the second floor balcony, and that's where my dream ended.
I try not to tell people my dreams because they're usually pretty crazy and I'm not the greatest at telling them, but when I have a really vivid one I can't help it. Credits for the eastcoast music go Ashley travelling in Newfoundland. In other news I've got a crazy cast on my foot/leg because the x-ray technician thinks the break extends into the joint on the bone so I'm still off work, but hopefully I can get it off in a week or so because it's getting pretty boring. Also I'm working on a sweet song called "In Metronome" which I'll post as soon as I'm done.
Park Ranger
Monday, 21 July 2008
Lamp
I broke my lava lamp. In the cluttered room I stumbled, struggling with a puffy sleeping bag and knocked it off the desk. It happened instantly, there was no bullet time, no beautiful memories of hours spent gazing into its limitless depths and pondering the mysteries of the universe, no last moment grasp at its falling, lifeless, beauty. There was no time. One moment it was standing like a resolute sentinel, guarding the deskspace, and the next it was lying broken on the floor, never again to shine. I knelt as best as I could, encumbered by my half-cast, to mourn the loss, but necessity drove me onwards. I hobbled up the stairs, a feat which I was hesitant to repeat as I had done it only moments before. With towels and rags I dried its clear blood from the ground and swept its broken body and organs into an empty candy bag. I will miss you lava lamp... always.
pipe smoking professor
pulsing ruby jar
no more heat in your body
I lament your death
pipe smoking professor
pulsing ruby jar
no more heat in your body
I lament your death
Sunday, 20 July 2008
broken
It sucks being broken. On Wednesday night I was playing capture the flag in the dark, in bare feet, and I went to jump over a wall to get into my home base (with the opposing teams flag). I couldn't see what was on the other side and ended up sortof flailing and smashing my foot on the cement. Breaking it... or at least one of those bones in it. So here I sit, my foot up on Prince's cage, swollen up and puffy, confined in a half-cast, in the blazing heat of summer, trying to type. It's safe to say it was a stupid move.
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