George Orwell is starting a blog!

Wait a minute, you're asking yourself, isn't Orwell dead? (At least I'm guessing that's what you're asking yourself...that's what I'd be asking myself...how am I supposed to know what you're asking yourselves? You expect too much of me.) But I digress...

The Orwell Prize is going to be publishing George Orwell's diaries, in blog form, starting August 9th. Originally written 9 August 1938 and continuing on until 1942, each diary entry will be published 70 years to the date after it was written.

For a long time I considered him to be my favourite writer (I still count Homage to Catalonia as one of my favourite books) so I for one am very excited to have this glimpse into his life and thoughts.

The blog can be read here.

Art Garfunkel's Library

I first came across Art Garfunkel's library in an article on the Guardian website. Art Garfunkel has kept track of every book he has read since June of 1968 and now one can, should one wish to, read through that list. He began way back when with Rousseau's Confessions and one thousand two hundred and twenty-two books later, sometime in 2007 (Is that the most recent update or has Art stopped reading? (Is Art even still alive? Editor's note: Yes, Art is still alive)) he read The Magnificent Ambersons by Booth Tarkington. Alternately, you can save yourself the trouble (and lose out on the joy) of the entire list and just take a look at his favourites.

Browsing through his list, combined with my love of lists, inspired me to do the same thing. Sometime in the late nineties I started keeping track of the books I read by recording them in my journals, along with any remarkable, thought provoking or interesting quotations. And even before I started doing this regularly I sometimes made mention of the books I was reading. So I was able to dig through these old journals, starting in January of 1995, and compile a list of 331 books I have read, though technically it is only 327 as four of them I repeated. (There are other books I have reread but they usually didn't make it into my journal, so there is no record of them.) My first book on the list is Gösta Berling's Saga by Selma Lagerlöf and just yesterday I finished reading Netherland by Joseph O'Neill. I really enjoyed the slow process of digging through old journals and finding the books I'd read, but it's also interesting now to be able to just look through my list and see what trends there are, what subjects captured my interest or what writer's I was taken with at any given time.

And maybe one day, if I'm bored or curious, I'll cross reference my list with Art's and see which books we have both read.

And should anyone care, I'm averaging about 26.48 books a year versus Art's 25.89.

But it's not a race.

Utah Phillips R.I.P.

I'm almost two month late on this, but I was saddened today to hear of the death of anarchist, hobo, peace and labour activist, Wobbly, story-teller, folk-singer and all around inspirational human being Utah Phillips.

You can read and listen to an interview of Utah by Democracy Now's Amy Goodman right here.

UPDATE: Light On!

The screws have been realigned in a more symmetrical pattern. However, I'm now concerned that I may have to realign all of the screws on all of the face plates in my apartment. Thank you, Sparky, for introducing me to a whole new kind of crazy.

Light On!

I'm very pleased with myself right now; I've just changed my first ever light switch. I didn't even get a shock.

Pizza of the Day: Summer Solstice Edition

Here's today's pizza, a traditonal summer solstice pizza:


It's got mozzarella, cheddar and parmesan cheeses, zucchini, red pepper, jerk tofu (jerk!) green olives, pickled jalapeno pepper (thanks Mom!) and tapenade. Yeah, it's a bit lopsided...so what? You are too.

Bo Diddley R.I.P.

I walk 47 miles of barbed wire,
I use a cobra-snake for a necktie,
I got a brand new house on the roadside,
Made from rattlesnake hide,
I got a brand new chimney made on top,
Made out of a human skull,
Now come on take a walk with me, Arlene,
And tell me, who do you love?

Hairy Upper Lips Part 3

AKA: Moustache May Redux.

The Merry Month of May has come and gone again. You may recall two years back I participated in Moustache May at work. Well, we did it again this year. On the last working day of the month there was an awards ceremony. I won a prize.

The moustache:

The Category/Award:


I'm not sure what that means, but everyone seems to think it's dirty.

The prize:

The reaction:

"Congratulations! Your efforts paid off...nice work. As for the prize: use it."

It's June now so I probably should shave it off, but I'm just not sure. I saw a poster for a concert in two weeks that I get in at a reduced rate if I'm moustached...

In the News...

And the award for the most misleading headline to a news story or the most disappointing payoff in a news story due to it's accompanying headline is:

Great tits cope well with warming.

It's about birds. The feathered, winged kind, I mean. Somehow I don't think that's why it is currently one of the most popular stories on the BBC website.

Lying Liars!

I want to start this by saying that from a young age my Mom taught me the value and importance of honesty. Now, there is a radio show/podcast that I listen to regularly called Radiolab. They take a particular theme and explore the science behind it. The most recent one I listened to was about Deception. A segment within the show was about self-deception. In the 1970's two psychiatrists came up with a self-deception questionnaire used to gauge how honest a person is with themselves. And here's what is interesting about the results: people who scored higher on the test, meaning those people that were less honest with themselves, (i.e. liars) performed better at things such as sports and business, and overall tended to be happier. Whereas people who were more honest with themselves, and thus more realistic about their own faults and the way of the world, tended to be more depressed. Thanks, Mom.

люди!

This, right here, is why Russian men are super tough and you're just a great big sissy. A Russian man was knifed while drinking with a security guard at his workplace. He woke up the next morning, still at work, took the bus home, ate some sausage, then went to sleep. His wife noticed the knife handle sticking out of his back. Yuri Lyalin, the man who was stabbed, apparently has no ill will towards the man who stabbed him. He said:

"We were drinking and what doesn't happen when you're drunk?"

That reminds me of the time I once stepped on a dried lentil with my bare foot and it stuck there. I found the lentil in my bed and wondered how it got there until I later found another lentil stuck to my foot and did the math. What I'm really trying to say here is that I need to sweep my floor more frequently.

Zombie Strippers!

Yes I Said Yes I Will Yes!

Last year when I finished reading War & Peace, I said I wasn't sure which would be next on my reading list: Ulysses or The History of Western Philosophy. Apparently neither were. At the beginning of this year when listing my resolutions I also mentioned those two books. And while I'm making very slow work of the latter (I'm at Plato) I have now completed the former. I took it with me on my trip to Ireland (a bit of light vacation reading anyone?) to force myself to read it, plus I'm the kind of pretentious sort that would read Ulysses while traveling in Ireland. I would also read the Odyssey while Greek island hopping, in case you were wondering. And while I didn't finish the book on my trip I did get two thirds of the way through it and have now, just over an hour ago, finished it. Apparently James Joyce said that it took him ten years to write it so it should take people ten years to read it. And while I had no intention of spending ten years on it, I can see why one might need the time. It is a masterfully crafted book, full of references, at times captivating, at times confusing, at times witty, at times, umm, confusing. Some episodes of it captured me, others left me wondering what exactly was going on. But for all that, I think it was worth the effort. I didn't necessarily understand all of it, but I'm not sure I needed to. At those times it was enough to enjoy the writing, the play with language etc. And while I have no intention of rereading it just yet, I may feel the need to do so someday. At the James Joyce Institute in Dublin they had a great little post card that summarized Ulysses in 36 words. And while I didn't buy it and so am unable to post that here for you, here is the BBC's Cheat's Guide to Ulysses complete with plenty of amusing readers comments. Next up? Finnegan's Wake. Or not.

Yoga Time!

I recently told a friend of mine that I had been thinking about getting back into yoga. She mentioned an ad in the Georgia Straight for some Lululemon men's yogawear and wanted to know if I would wear such a thing to yoga. I hadn't seen the ad in question so I told her I'd check it out and let her know. I'm kind of torn about Lululemon. On the one hand, I have a strong dislike for their trendy, Kitsilano, SUV driving, Starbucks sipping, yoga, lifestyle bullshit, but on the other hand, Lululemon pants can do wonderful things for a woman's posterior. But I digress. When I finally checked the ad out Lululemon stock went up a few points in my mind. Ladies and gentlemen, introducing "The Mansy:"

Turns out it was only an April Fool's joke. Which is too bad for any ladies that might happen to be in my upcoming yoga classes.

P.S-You can't see it in this picture, but the back part is only a very thin strip of material highlighting the yogi's, shall we say, cheeks.

Spring Break Boredom!

Last Saturday morning there was a loud knock on my door. No one had buzzed from the street so I figured it was someone from within the building, perhaps something strata related, as I am on my strata council, plus it was a pretty determined knock, so I went to answer it, even though it was approaching the ninetieth minute of Arsenal-Middlesbrough with the scores level at 1-1. I opened the door to two young girls, perhaps one was 12 the other 10, I'm not sure as I'm not very good with guessing the ages of anyone under 23.

Me: Hello?
Them: Hello. Can you give us a word for our dictionary of made up words?
Me: What?
Them: We're making a list of made up words.
Me (stalling for time): Umm?
Them (standing there looking at me, not saying anything, waiting): silencio
Me (stalling for time): What's this for?
Them: It's spring break and we're bored (editor's note: what the hell?)
Me (stalling for time): What do you have so far?
Them (wondering why I won't just give them a word): blah, blah, blah, blah (Okay I don't remember what they said, they weren't actually just repeating the word blah)
Me (bored with this conversation): I don't really have anything.
Them (not taking no for an answer): If you had some time to think about it would you be able to come up with something?
Me (wanting them to go away so I could go back to watching second half injury time in the Arsenal game, with the Arsenal level and pressing for a winner): Maybe.
Them (not understanding what I'm not saying): Okay, we'll come back in ten minutes.

So, I went back to my computer to see the game had ended, still 1-1, and then tried to make up a word. I even went to a website of made up words, not to plagiarise but hopefully to be inspired. Nothing. They knocked again and despite not having a word yet, I answered the door again.

Me (thinking but not saying "there's no way in hell that was ten minutes"): Hello.
Them (waiting with excitement and anticipation): Do you have a word yet?
Me (not having a word yet): No.
Them (not impressed by me not having a word for them): silencio
Me (not impressed by them just standing there unimpressed by me): But I do have a definition for one.
Them (slightly less unimpressed): What is it?
Me (hungry): The inability to think when under pressure.
Them (thinking quickly): How about unthinkissure? (sp?)
Me (thinking that with more time I could come up with something better but not wanting to actually take the time to come up with something better): Sure.

So there you have it, my contribution to spring break and the English language.

CANCELLED!

I've just learnt that St. Patrick's Day has been cancelled this year. In the church calendar this is holy week, which takes precedent over any saint's days, thus, no St. Patrick's Day. So, turn off your Dubliner's albums, take off your green, cork your Jameson's, and get back to work.

Teen Angst Poetry!

I went to the Railway Club last night for Teen Angst Poetry. It's a somewhat regularly occurring (now the second Tuesday of every month at the Railway) open mic night. People get up and read from their journals from the darkest and deepest corners of their teenage years. They tell of their anxieties, of how no one understands nor will ever understand them, of how they'll be alone forever, of how Kevin likes them, of how sad everyone will be when they're gone, of true ever-lasting love, of how Kevin no longer likes them, of marshmallow horses (seriously), of how cold and lonely this world is, you get the idea. Some people took themselves a little too seriously, some people thought they were a lot funnier than they actually were, but for the most part it was just good and funny. A lot reminded me of my own teenaged deep and tragic poetic musings and it made me really want to read through them again. Not on stage, just to myself. But alas, those journals are in another city right now. Woe is me...

My Irish Pub Crawl

Spanning a number of days, cities, islands and, of course, pints...

Uisce Beatha!

I'm just after going to the Old Jameson's Distillery. There was a brief tour through the building where Jameson's was distilled for almost 200 years before moving to near Cork. But most importantly included in the admission price was a sample of Jameson's at the end. But even better than that, I was chosen as one of 6 volunteer whiskey/whisky tasters. First we sampled three different Irish whiskeys; Powers, Paddy, & Jameson's. From those we had to choose our favourite. Not surprisingly, we all chose Jameson's. No pressure, seriously. Though I must say, I'd be interested in trying Paddy again. Mellow stuff. Then we had to compare our favourite Irish whiskey to the number one selling Scotch in the world. (Johnny Walker Red Label, should you care) Then we compared the Irish whiskey to the number one selling bourbon in the world. (Any guesses?) Then we had to choose our favourite from the three international whiskeys. I can keep the 'e' as no one chose the Scotch. Even the Scotsman, though I think he chose the Jameson's a little begrudgingly. Again not surprisingly, all six of us chose the Jameson's. So there you have it, scientifically proven, Jameson's is the best whiskey in the world. Okay, there was no rye whiskey involved, nor a whole host of better, longer aged whiskey's but you get my point. And now, I'm an accredited whiskey taster. I even have the certificate to prove it.

Kilkenny vs. Guinness

I was in a pub last night called Tynan's Bridge House in Kilkenny. Being in Kilkenny I was drinking a pint of Kilkenny. Earlier that night I'd had a Smithwick's, also from Kilkenny. So, I was standing at the bar, drinking my Kilkenny, chatting with an Irishman and a Welshman. Doesn't that sound like a joke? ACanadian, an Irishman, and a Welshman are at a bar...? Actually, the Welshman did tell me a joke: What's the difference between an Irishman and a Welshman? I don't know what, I asked. One of them learned how to swim? Which one, I asked. Well, that's up for debate. Alright, it isn't really much of a joke, or at least it isn't a funny one. Anyhow, I was standing there talking to those two when along came Paddy Ryan. Seriously. From Calgary, no less. Seriously. Paddy was there as a representative of Arthur Guinness' fine Dublin based brewery. It was his job to sign up people to come to that particular pub for the next three Tuesdays. In return they'd get a free pint of Guinness each week and if they went all three they'd get a Guinness windbreaker. I was unable to commit to that, though I'd have liked to, but he then took it upon himself to show me why I should be drinking Guinness rather than the locally brewed libation. I mean to say he gave me a free pint, charged to Guinness, or rather to whatever non-Irish multinational it is that owns Guinness now. I'm not a huge fan of Kilkenny to begin with, and I am a huge fan of free pints of beer and of Guinness, so needless to say, I was easily convinced. Good work, Paddy!

A Football Fan's Delight

I just finished watching Arsenal's resumption in the Champion's League after it's too long winter break in a not very good bar on O'Connell Street in Dublin. There were hundreds of people crammed in there watching a number of television screens that had all four of today's matches. In a word: awesome. There being so many people in there insured that each of the eight clubs playing had a good vocal following. I, of course, was watching the Arsenal vs. AC Milan match which included the long awaited Dudu vs. Kaka match up. That match produced no goals so there was little more than Italians yelling at the screen and one irate Arsenal fan to whom everyone that wasn't an Arsenal player was a wanker. Fenerbhace vs. Sevilla ended 2-2 so there were chances for the assembled Spaniards and Turks to yell and sing, as with the Lyon-Manchester United match that ended 1-1, though with French and English/Irish respectively. The best match however was Celtic vs. Barcelona which ended 2-3. Celtic seems to be the adopted club of many Irishmen so when Celtic went ahead twice, a large portion of the bar erupted into singing, all in unison. Also there seemed to be a large Catalan contingent as Barcelona's 3 goals where each met with a chorus. All in all, a good evening for some football. Shame Adebayor didn't put that header away rather than put it off the bar.

Blowout!

In CONCACAF World Cup qualifying today, apparently El Salvador beat Antiguilla 12-0. I say apparently because though I've been to El Salvador and can vouch for its existence, I'm not sure I've heard of Antiguilla before. Generally, I'm pretty good with geography, so if I've not heard of some place it is probably fictional. Which means that as far as I'm concerned, El Salvador was playing a game of football against a team that doesn't really exist. Which means that in 90 minutes against an empty field and, more particularly, against an empty net they could only score twelve goals. You know what that means? El Salvador sucks. I'm pretty sure that in 90 minutes I could score at least 90 goals against an empty net. That even includes time for me to get bored, leave, go drink some beer or coffee, go to the bathroom, eat a sandwich, make a prank call about your refrigerator running, hit on your sister, and then score a bunch more goals. I'm that good.

The Editors

I went to see the Editors last night at the Commodore. I only caught the tail end of the first opening band, Louis XIV, who I hadn't heard before. They weren't bad, so I'll have to check out more of them. Hot Hot Heat were the second band and while I had heard them before, they don't do too much for me. Definitely lots of energy in their performance though. And the lead singer said that his doctor had told him he couldn't sing for a couple of weeks and they'd have to cancel shows but he couldn't not play the Vancouver show. (Aww, shucks, I bet he says that to all the crowds.) Finally, the Editors came on. It's at times like this (right now, writing this) when I feel my lack of music journalist potential as I have nothing interesting or intelligent to say about the band and their performance beyond that I loved the show. I like seeing bands perform songs that I like. Simple as that. They were great...heck, I even liked the stage lighting. At times I felt like I was watching a flickering black and white film clip. (Seriously, no drugs were taken by me.) Anyhow, a good show.

Ian Curtis Watch: In the way that all new up and coming Argentine footballers are compared to Maradona, it seems all up and coming British singers with a deep voice and moody, somewhat depressing music are compared to Ian Curtis. And while there may be a bit of Ian going on in Tom Smith (is that natural or cultivated spasticity?), I'd say for the most part he's doing and will continue to do his own thing.

A Late Christmas Gift...

I received the first half of my Christmas gift from a friend of mine yesterday. Yes, I'm aware it's now February, what of it?

Here it is:
It's a set of four Bob-Marley-Playing-Football table place mats. And really, I can't think of a more appropriate gift for me, as it combines three of my favourite things in the entire world:

1)Football
2)Jamaican Music
3)Food

If only we could work coffee and girls into it somehow, we'd be set. And now I need to get enough chairs for my dining room table so that I can actually have people over for dinner and show them off.

The Beginnings of Senility?

A couple of weeks ago, for dinner, I made a broccoli, tofu and udon dish. I often make this simple yet tasty dish. In fact, I made it again tonight. Stir-fry the broccoli, add the tofu and noodles and then the sauce. The only remotely complicated part of it is getting the sauce to thicken with cornstarch. This is not at all difficult, but if one had to choose the most difficult stage of the process, this would be it. And yet, on this night a couple of weeks ago the sauce just wouldn't thicken. The only thing I could think of was that I hadn't used enough cornstarch. So, I added more of it. Still no luck. No problem, I just decided I'd eat it with the runny sauce. Or at least try to...because for some reason it tasted nasty. And I mean nasty. Nasty enough that I threw the whole thing out. We're talking about a guy whose ex-roommates would be pleased when he was gone as it meant they didn't have to eat or could throw out the vegetables that they considered to be off but were well within the realm of edible for me. And to think I did most of the cooking for those ingrates. Anyhow, I digress. Nasty, nasty tasting business...the whole thing went into the garburator. Speaking of which, you probably didn't know it but the word garburator is a canadianism. I'm assuming you didn't know that because I didn't know that until a few moments ago and chances are that if I didn't know it, you didn't either. There you go, now this blog is educational. And yet again, I digress. So, I couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. Runny sauce wouldn't have altered the taste that much, certainly not enough to make it disgustingly inedible. The only thing I could think of was that perhaps the broccoli had been a little off. Anyhow, I ended up eating something else for dinner and didn't think much more about it. A few days later I was straightening up the kitchen a little, putting some things that I'd left out away, tidying up, etc. And I just couldn't figure out why the baking soda was out on the counter. But as I put it away it donned on me...it was sitting right in the spot where I might have left a box of cornstarch, had I had one out any time recently. And apparently I hadn't. Damn. Is it all down hill from here?

The Best Albums of 2007

It's list time again. Actually, it's probably past list time already, but my list is ready now, so now is when you get it. Like last year's list, this is in no particular order.

Wincing the Night Away by The Shins
I finished last years list by saying I expected the Shins' new album to be a mainstay of my listening for the upcoming year and indeed it was. My brother reminded me to make sure I included the album in the list because he was concerned that I had forgotten it was actually released in 2007. I didn't forget that fact nor would I let the little fact of a release date get in my way.

Reggae Hit L.A. by The Aggrolites
High energy ska/reggae and one of the best live shows I saw this year. It's clear that these guys love the music they're playing and they know the roots of the music well.

Lightning Dust by Lightning Dust
A side project by two members of Black Mountain. Amber Webber's voice haunts me.

Cease to Begin by Band of Horses
When I first heard this album I didn't think I liked it as much as Everything All The Time, my favourite album of last year. I wasn't sure if I even liked it at all. However, maybe it's just iPod laziness, but I find myself listening to it again and again.

100 Days, 100 Nights by Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings
Do you like good music, that sweet soul music? Well, cats, this is the real deal.

Street Gospels by Bedouin Soundclash
A friend of mine wrote the band off as a little too college, but I like them. And maybe this album is a little too religified, but I like it as well.

The Shepherd's Dog by Iron & Wine
This is alt-country meets Ali Farka Toure. At least that's what it sounds like to me. The song Resurrection Fern is brilliant.

Gulag Orkestar by Beirut
This album came out in May '06? Whatever, I didn't hear it until early in '07. It makes me feel lost in an Eastern European carnival, which isn't a bad place to get lost, really.

Calligraffiti by Grand Analog
Honestly, I haven't even heard the majority of this album. But no matter, because the song Around This Town is super-awesome enough to merit a spot on the list.

Si, Para Usted: The Funky Beats of Revolutionary Cuba by Various Artists
It's Cuban, it's revolutionary, and yes, it's funky. What's not to like?

Writer's Block by Peter Bjorn & John
Another 2006 release that I didn't hear until 2007 (I'm with it, just not that with it.) Just try and get the whistling part from Young Folks out of your head.

Ongiara by Great Lake Swimmers
My mancrush on Tony Dekker aside, this is a damn good album. It was my introduction to the band and spurred me to get their prior two albums; all three of them got a lot of my listening time in 2007. If I sort my iTunes list by play count, Great Lake Swimmers is at the top...against music that has been in there much longer. I know I said this list was in no order, but this was, hands down, my favourite album of the year. And it, along with the others, along with any new albums he may yet release, will be my among favourites in time to come. Sorry, I've apparently gone all fan-boy.

That's the list or at least that's all I can think of right now. But here are some honourable mentions:
Postcards & Daydreaming by Dan Mangan
La Radiolina by Manu Chao
Oh, My Darling by Basia Bulat
Skelliconnection by Chad VanGaalen
Studio One Rub-A-Dub by Various Artists
Dynamite Dancehall Style by Various Artists

A bunch of others too. It was a good year for music. But then, aren't they all? If you think I've left anything out (and I know you do, Pete, Sparky...) feel free to comment.

Crazy for You...A Case Study.

I've been going to physiotherapy the past few weeks. Other than the time when I went probably reeking of booze from the previous night's work Christmas party in spite of my shower it's been going well. As I lie on the table, my head on the pillow, suction cups attached to my leg sending currents of electricity through it, I do what I do when I'm lying in a room. I count things. There is a kind of fake wood paneling on the wall to my right but because of the angle of the table I'm not really able to count the panels. The left wall is flat drywall with two picture hooks, no picture and discolouration on the wall where there once was a picture. The wall behind me, I can't see. The wall in front of me has two windows that are, to my eye anyhow, the same size. I haven't actually measured them, that would be full on crazy. However, the window on the left side has thirteen vertical blinds while the right side window has only twelve. As for the ceiling, it is made up of eight full false ceiling tiles in two columns of four each plus four partial false ceiling tiles, two at each end. Of the eight complete tiles, seven of them have the same texture while one has it's own. It is clear that this room is not part of the original construction but is that any kind of excuse for asymmetry? I thought not. Anyhow, I'm sure you can imagine how all of this distresses me as I lie there, trying to heal. Surely it can't help. Umm, you can imagine that, right? Hey, come back here!

Crazy for you...

Here are a few things, in no particular order, that I am crazy about. And by crazy about I don't mean I like these things a lot, I mean I'm nutso:

1)When I'm drinking I often have a need to either place my glass or cup dead centre on the coaster or to line it up against some design or feature, usually a line, on the table. Anyone who has had a drink with me and who is either somewhat observant or has seen Paul try and move my glass when I'm not looking knows this about me.

2)Sometimes I feel a need to tap trees or poles as I walk by them.

3)When taking a newspaper from the newspaper box I have a very difficult time taking the paper from the top. The second one will do though I prefer to go down a few further. If it is a broadsheet style paper I won't take it unless the various sections are all lined up and tightly packed. If it is a tabloid or berliner style paper I won't take it unless the top and bottom are, for the most part, even. I will then take the paper, fold it, and put it in my backpack at which point if it is a broadsheet style paper the various sections may not remain lined up and tightly packed and if it is a tabloid or berliner style paper the top and bottom may not remain even. This apparent contradiction does not bother me.

4)When sitting in a room, no matter how many times I have been in that room, I will count ceiling tiles or venetian blind slats or anything similar that I am able to count. I am pleased if I discover that different windows have the same number of blinds and bonus points are scored if I can discern a not very obvious pattern in tiles.

5)I don't mind stepping on sidewalk or walkway cracks as long as I can step on all of them or at least step on some of them at a regular occurrence. If this is not possible I will attempt to step on none of them and I will adjust my gait accordingly to achieve this.

6)When driving or being a passenger in a car I like to count the broken lines on the centre of the road. For a reason unknown to me, though possibly it has something to do with the majority of modern music being in 4/4 time, I count the broken lines in fours. I am very pleased when the lines pass in accordance with the beat of whatever music I happen to be listening to and I'm also very pleased when the final line in a section corresponds with a four in my count.

7)When I'm drinking coffee from a paper cup with a lid the seam of both the java jacket and the cup need to be directly opposite the mouth hole of the lid. If I'm not using a lid, I still need the seam to be directly at the back of the cup so that my finger tips touch it. If I'm drinking coffee from my travel mug I need the mouthpiece to be at a 90 degree angle to the handle with the handle to the right side. If I'm drinking coffee while driving in my car, I prefer to place the cup in the passenger side coffee holder. If I actually have a passenger I may let this one slide as I wouldn't want the passenger to think that I am, in fact, crazy.

Be It Resolved...Revisited.

Since writing about my resolutions I've been thinking about them some more, particularly the one about being more open. While I do think that openness and honesty are good things, I keep asking myself why I feel like I should be more open? It's not like I am a branch of government where transparency is required...I am an individual, a very private individual. I let those that are close to me in to varying degrees and those that I don't, well, what's going on inside of me is none of their god damned business. Of course, what can you expect from someone who told his mother while in kindergarten that what he did in class was his own business and not hers?

Alright, maybe there is some room for improvement...

Be It Resolved...

I think it's perfectly natural for people to make resolutions at this time of year. Modern secular technological society leaves little time for pause and reflection. As we become more and more devoid of rites and rituals, those things that mark the passage of time for us, it seems normal to me that at the one time of year when the passage of time is apparent and obvious to all we would look back and reflect. And in reflecting we would find fault with our past selves and endeavour to become better versions of ourselves. Thus, the new year's resolution.

I also think it's perfectly natural for people to fail at those resolutions. At root we are pretty lazy beings and meaningful change requires hard work.

That said, here's what I've come up with from my year end reflections, some things I'd like to work on but may fail miserably at:

To be more honest. Actually, I'm already pretty honest I'm just not very open. So I guess the resolution should be: To be more open. That seems to go against my nature though, as I'm a fairly closed and very private person. We'll see how that one goes.

To watch less television. I don't even have a television and I feel like I need to watch less of it.

To read more. I already read a fair bit, I just feel like I should do more of it. Bigger, better books. Like Ulysses and The History of Western Philosophy.

To cook more. I like cooking and I do a fair bit of it as well. I just feel like I should do more.

To write more. If this works out, lucky you guys, more of my ramblings for you.

To be less cynical. A friend recently said of some of my photographs that I take ugly things and make them beautiful. I think I need to do that with people. I need to look for the good things inside them instead of just assuming they're jerkwads. Of course, my response to my friend's comment was that I think those things are ugly, they just look cool, so we'll see how that one goes.

To be more angry. That may seem incongruous with the previous resolution but I don't mean to become a bitter and surly person. I just think I need to be angry at the things that I tolerate but don't really approve of, as being angry about them may inspire me to do something about them, whereas accepting or putting up with them leads to no change at all and me becoming, well, a bitter and surly person. The thing I intend to be angriest about? Not the fact that there's no coffee here at work right now, though I may get to that. No, it's modern-post-industrial-technological society's (or whatever we're now calling this thing in which we live) way of isolating us, making us disillusioned and unengaged and making our lives devoid of excitement, randomness and meaning. What the hell is wrong with us that half of the people I know are either miserable or depressed half of the god damned time?

Well, I think that's enough for now. Apparently I've got some work to do.

Dodgy ID...

...or How Swimming Saved My Christmas.

It's 6h40 on December 24th. I'm very tired. I've had about two and a half hours sleep. I'm in a line slowly moving towards the counter to show my ID and boarding pass and get on a plane to take me to Ontario for Christmas. About 3 people away from the person who wants to see my ID, I realise I don't have my ID. Two nights prior I had taken it out of my wallet along with my bank card and put it in my smaller more compact much cooler Run DMC wallet which I like to use when I'm going out somewhere that a large wallet bulge in my pants pocket might be unseemly or just plain unattractive or when I just don't need my library card, my MEC card, my VES card, my ACCT card, my Rider's Sushi card and twenty different coffee cards. I'm usually pretty good about putting it back into my wallet, but the previous day when I took the money from my wallet to head out to watch el Gran Classico I hadn't fully recovered from the previous evening and the two cards only made it to the table. Anyhow, I'm now one person away from needing to show that which I don't have, I'm tired, I'm panicking, it's Christmas Eve, I'm flying home, it's 20 minutes until take-off, there's no way in hell I can make it back to my house to get my id and make it back to the airport in time, I'll be spending Christmas Eve alone all because I was too damn stupid to make sure I had everything I needed. When I get to the woman who needs to see my id, I still have the look of panic on my face, I begin to plead my case...I'm holding my wallet open, looking too tired, scared, dumb-founded, and I say: "I just realised I don't have my driver's license with me." I don't know what I expected her to say but it wasn't: "Oh, that'll do," while pointing at my wallet. Which is what she did say. The "that" in question? My Vancouver Parks Board Flexipass. Luckily it happened to be on the top of the pile of cards in my wallet as I would never have thought of it. The only reason I have the card in the first place is because of ongoing bouts of acute tendinopothy and medial tibial stress syndrome that have prevented me from running and cycling the past few months. I had been doing nothing until my doctor told me to hit the pool. I was leery about beginning swimming for a couple of reasons. First of all, I can't really swim. That's not quite true, I can swim and since I've been doing it more regularly I'm improving but my body isn't really designed for swimming. I sink. The thing that keeps me afloat is the air in my lungs. As that goes, so does my buoyancy. I can actually lie on the bottom of a swimming pool without having to try to keep myself down. That's just where my body wants to go. The second reason is that becoming an active swimmer would mean that I actively participate in all three of the disciplines involved in triathlon which would only add fuel to the fire for certain friends of mine that are trying to bully me into doing Ironman 2009. But I digress. I had only been swimming for a couple of months and it was pure luck/blind chance that the card was on top of the pile. Aviation Canada requires all passengers to show government issued identification in order to board a plane. Technically speaking, the Vancouver Parks Board is a level of government, and the card in question has both my photo and my name so it is identification, but, well, let's just say the process involved in getting such a card isn't the most stringent. Anyhow, I got on my plane, flew home and had a good Christmas with my family and friends, all because of some dodgy ID. Or because of some dodgy running shoes made by (snip...could incur lawsuit~ed.) that caused the injuries which forced me to hit the pool in the first place. What am I trying to say here? I'm not really sure, something about cause and effect, or maybe nothing at all, maybe I'm just amused by the story. Yeah, I think that's it.

Oscar Peterson R.I.P.

Elf Yourself!

Click on the photo...it's me and two of my closest friends as dancing elves.

Evel Knievel R.I.P.

Does God Control the Weather?

While doing a google search earlier today for "weather gods," I noticed that one of the suggested links was for the website ChristianAnswers.net with the title: "Does God Control the Weather?" Naturally, I followed the link. This is how it begins:

Storms, floods, and earthquakes are indeed a part of the present world. We sometimes call them "natural disasters," but they are not a surprise to God. Yes, God certainly can control the weather and send deadly storms. Some have concluded that suffering occurs because it is beyond God's control. This is incorrect. God has indeed established certain laws and principles that govern nature, but he remains sovereign over these laws.

And it goes on to give a number of biblical references to god controlling the weather, thus giving us the proof that we inquisitive minds need. There's also a link to a book entitled "Weather & the Bible" for the "amateur Einstein who loves to explore, experiment, or read about science." My favourite part, however, is the More Recent Examples section, where "in more recent centuries, there are various examples that seem to show the providence of God in history using weather…"

Apparently God sent the storm that helped to wipe out the Spanish Armada thus ending Philip II of Spain's plan of uniting Christianity under catholicism (Editor's note: God doesn't like catholicism.) As well, God sent the fog and cloud cover that helped the Allied army escape from the Nazis at Dunkirk in 1940 (Editor's note: God doesn't like Nazis.) What I gather from these examples is that if there is in fact a God, he loves the English and hates continental Europeans. I'm not sure why God didn't send a deluge or something to help the English beat the Croatians last week, but that may have something to do with Richard Dawkins or the fact that their last Prime Minister was a catholic. Alternately, God just might not care about football, though somehow I find that unlikely.

In other idiotic religious news an English woman teaching at a school in Sudan has been arrested because she let her six and seven year old students name a teddy bear Muhammad. She could face up to 6 months in prison, a fine, or 40 lashes. Charges are being prepared against her under the section of the criminal law that covers insults against faith and religion. You can't see me right now, but I'm shaking my head in a strange mixture of bemusement and disbelief.

Not an Apology.

I've been remiss lately with the whole "new blog entries" thing, particularly the "me writing new blog entries instead of just linking to something else" thing and while I should probably apologise to any loyal readers (do I have any?) I don't really care to. If I did care, I'd be writing more, wouldn't I? Seriously, what can you expect from a guy whose name is an anagram for Herb Pants Eh?

Anyhow, now that's out of the way, I'll continue on with letting other people provide the content...

Oh, forget it, I can't even be bothered to find something interesting right now.

Later.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

Sometimes a real-true-to-life-actual-news-story is so baffling that even I can't come up with any smart ass comments to go along with it. Or at least none that aren't entirely crass or offensive, so I'll leave this one alone.

Why I don't understand the law...

Umm, could someone explain to me why this is illegal?

Great Lake Swimmers!

I went to see the Great Lake Swimmers last Saturday at Richards on Richards as part of a triple bill along with Basia Bulat and Final Fantasy. I hadn't heard Basia Bulat before, though was impressed, particularly by her voice. Final Fantasy, the headliner, I had heard before, was somewhat interested in seeing and quite enjoyed his live performance, which in turn should make me listen to him more. But the reason I went to the show was the Great Lake Swimmers, Tony Dekker really, who is the driving force behind the band. Okay, he is the band. I first heard him/them on CBC radio 3 earlier this year. Since then he/they have been my new favourite band and his/their 3 albums have been in near constant rotation for me, often each one getting multiple plays daily, though every now and then I'll fixate on a song and just listen to that over and over. It's beautiful, sparse, heart-wrenching music that strikes a whole lot of chords with me, among other reasons for its inherent melancholy. What can I say, I like my music to hurt a little bit. Anyhow, Great Lake Swimmers was who I was there to see and I was not disappointed. Actually, I was disappointed with all of the inconsiderate assholes that were talking throughout the show and the piss-poor sound mix, but I wasn't going to let those things get in the way of me enjoying the concert. And they did not. I loved it, I wanted him to play every song from every album, perhaps repeating my favourites a time or two. There wasn't too much innovative about the live performance but it was exactly what I wanted: live versions of songs I love and have listened to over and over. I guess I just wanted to see the man play and sing them. I don't know much about him, beyond what is in his music, but watching him perform I got the sense that he is a very intelligent yet painfully shy man. Enough so that I wanted to give him a hug and tell him that everything would be alright. I didn't though, because I didn't actually see him up close, but more importantly because I'd be afraid if too many people did that, he'd stop writing such heartbreaking songs. And I wouldn't want that.

Pizza of the Day

Today's pizza, my first in a while, has zucchini, red peppers, onions, mushrooms, and gouda and brie cheeses. I should have put the brie on later, as it turned into little puddles of liquid. Still tasty though...

While we're on the subject of pizza, the pizza contest will be ending soon. The entries thus far are undergoing a very stringent and rigorous testing process, and a winner will be announced before too long, but any entries I deem acceptable and worthwhile will still be admitted. Oh yeah, whoever it was that entered a pizza anonymously (no, not you Sparky)...I still don't know who you are.

It's Raining Again...

It's that time of year again...where every second blog entry is me bitching about the rain. But this year, I'm going to try something new, something different. I'm going to try to not let it get me down, to not let it force me into hibernation mode, to actually get out in the rain and, you know, do stuff. And I might even get myself some decent rain gear. Perhaps even an umbrella. Please note that I said I'm going to "try" those things...meaning the whole endeavour could go balls up. Think of it as a work in progress. And while I'm trying to change my attitude, I still expect to struggle with bouts of SAD. And I will no doubt occasionally feel the need to open the door to my balcony, look outside, somewhat annoyed, and let out a hearty "Fuck you, rain!" Does talking to the elements constitute crazy?

Hooked on the Hoff!

I have a new favourite viral interweb video ever...



The first joker to make a comment about him being huge in Germany will be found, castigated and given a lecture about their lack of cultural sensitivity.

Marcel Marceau R.I.P.

Words would be pointless.

Yet Another Grind Update.

I apologise in advance for its tardiness. So, last week we did the Grind again and we each set a personal best. They were, in descending order:

DKBC=51:30
PK=48:35
And as for SB, yours truly:

Just Drive.

Do you ever, when you're driving to work, or wherever it is you're driving in the morning, long to just skip that last turn and keep on driving? Maybe head for the highway or a quiet country road? Put on Neil Young or Ryan Adams or Hank Williams or CCR or whatever your favourite driving music happens to be? Wind the window down? Let the wind blow your hair and face while you cruise along, singing your heart out?

Or if you're taking the bus to work, you want to miss your stop, sit on the bus until the end of the line? Get off the bus and explore some new and interesting looking neighbourhood? Spend the whole day riding around, letting your mind wander wherever it may?

Or if you're biking to work, cycle right on by and head for a trail somewhere? Follow the trail to a lake or a pond in the woods? Let the day pass while you stand at the water's edge skipping stones over its calm surface?

Or instead of walking to work you walk to the beach and plant yourself on a bench? Sit and watch the world wander by as the sun warms your face and you slowly sip your coffee?

Or maybe you don't even bother leaving for work at all? You sit on your couch and play your guitar or read a book, watch the shadows crawl across the room?

What I'm asking, I suppose, is do you ever want to feel like your time is your own, like you're doing what ever it is you want to do with it, instead of feeling like you're trading away yet another day of your life in exchange for a bit of money?

Another Grind Update.

We did the Grind again last evening. I completed it in 40:56. While I didn't think I could actually beat 40 minutes this time, I was annoyed with myself for not having done so. Indeed, the first word out of my mouth after touching the post at the top was a four letter expletive that begins with F and ends with U-C-K. Apparently I need to do it again next week. Possibly even the week after. On a brighter note, congratulations are in order for PK who finally beat the 50 minute mark with an excellent 48:56.

Little People.

A guy walks into a bar with a midget on his shoulder.

It sounds like a joke.

But it's not, it really happened. I and at least 3 others saw it. And we weren't even that loaded. Nor had any hallucinogenics been taken.

Looking for Love!

In this age of interweb dating, it's refreshing to see someone looking for love the old fashioned way: one lamppost at a time...

Grind Update!

After my 44:41 time on the Grouse Grind, I wondered whether or not I would continue on or drink beer and eat poutine instead (never really thinking 'why not both?'). And, somewhat cockily, I asked Rob what he had in store for me? Well, soon after that he broke his 45 minute wall and finished in 44:48. While that didn't really frighten me (that much), it made me realise that my victory was not yet etched in the finest Italian marble with gold leaf to fill in the lettering and the silhouette of my face, so the next week it was back up the hill. I finished in 42:39 which I was obviously pleased with but as I thought about it more it became something of a curse, as I was now too close to the 40 minute mark to not have a crack at it. Onward and upward, this week's time was 41:33. I'll be happy when (if?) I beat 40 minutes. Because then I never have to do the Grind again. Go me!

Why the U.S. Legal System is Brilliant!

Michael Vick, currently facing charges for his involvement in dog-fighting, is now facing a lawsuit from a prison inmate in South Carolina, the Guardian reports. The $63 billion lawsuit claims that Vick stole two dogs from Jonathan Lee Riches, used them for fighting then sold them on e-bay. He then allegedly used the proceeds to buy missiles from the Iranian government. I highly recommend reading the transcript of the suit. Some of the other deeds Vick is alleged to have committed:

-He pledged allegiance to Al-Qaeda.
-He subjected the plaintiff to microwave testing.
-He used drugs in a school zone.
-He stole the plaintiff's ID and used it to open an account to buy pet food at Petsmart and Doggie Warehouse.

Should Mr. Riches win his suit he would like the $63 000 000 000 to be backed by gold and silver and delivered to the front gates of the prison he is in, via UPS. He also apologises that the suit is hand-written. (Yes, it's a hand written lawsuit, rife with spelling mistakes and poor grammar.)

My favourite part, though, has to be his last line:

"Michael Vick has to stop physically hurting my feelings and dashing my hopes."

Let justice be done.

Contest Update!

Thus far in the pizza contest, we have one unnamed entrant, one joker and a serious lack of fresh ideas. Does no one crave the fame associated with having me name a pizza after them and posting it here? Have I overestimated or misunderstood your attention-whoring ways?

Motivational Messages!

Some days when I come into work in the morning, someone will have hung a sign at the top of the stairs for all to read upon entry. It usually has some type of nice, little, happy, thoughtful, reassuring and uplifting message to help everyone make it through the trials and tribulations of their work day. This is today's message:

Robots

Sometimes I know that I'm living in regular-normal-world. For example, when I'm sitting at my desk, drinking coffee and wishing that rather than being at my desk, drinking coffee, I were outside in the sun, drinking coffee. (Sometimes I will then go and sit at the picnic table outside and drink my coffee and wish I weren't at work at all.) But then there are other times when I am forced to accept that maybe I live in crazy-future-world. For example, when I'm confronted with one of those machines that can record something from the television and play it back later. ON A TAPE! (Seriously, ever seen one of those things?) Or, when a country (South Korea) feels the need to devise a Robot Code of Ethics. Haven't we all seen Blade Runner and I, Robot? Don't we already know this is going to end badly?

Barry Bonds Memorabilia!

This 120cm ceramic one of a kind bad boy is currently available on e-bay. It took over 400 hours to make. Wow.

The Grind

Alternate Title: My Cockiness and Stubbornness Pay Off!

Last summer a co-worker of mine was very pleased with himself for having completed the Grouse Grind in 44:50. And he should be pleased with himself as it is an excellent time. I'm not sure why but when I heard his time I told him that I would be beat him. At the time I was running somewhat irregularly and doing not too much else. I definitely wasn't doing the Grouse Grind a couple of times a week. Soon after that, two friends and I actually did the Grind and I finished in just over one hour. It seemed my cockiness was perhaps unwarranted and definitely premature. A couple weeks later I did it again and finished in 57 minutes. But, I was still determined to beat the 44:50 time. I'm stubborn like that. The first time I did it this year, along with my two motivator pace bunnies, who, lets not kid ourselves, after the first climb of the season, stopped doing their jobs very effectively, I finished in 52:46. I let my co-worker know but I also let him know that I still intended to beat him. The next week I finished in 49:50 or so, then after a two week hiatus, 47:40 or so. All the while I kept my co-worker informed of my improvements and took joy in his realisation that I would in fact beat him. Because I'm like that. This is where it became a little complicated. When I time myself it is from the post at the gate to the post at the base of the stairs to the lodge. But my co-worker's 44:50 time was from the post to the rock clearing, which is a bit shorter than to the post. He timed himself from rock to post, did it in 37 seconds, so we gave him a very unofficial time of 45:27, with an asterisk beside it. Last week, I did the Grind in 45:29, so close to the unofficial time I could have claimed victory and no record book would have stopped me. Thankfully, my co-worker did the right, honourable and proper thing, which was too go out the next night and set a new personal best of 45:15 thus removing the asterisk and giving me a target. Finally, today, I finished in 44:41, which, in case you hadn't noticed, is faster than the original time I set out to beat. Next week, I may do the Grind again. Or, I may go out for beer and poutine. I can't really say. So, Rob, what do you got for me now?

Michelangelo Antonioni R.I.P.

Workplace Satisfaction.

Would it be wrong to quit a job because they ran out of coffee? Because we're out right now. And I'm not pleased. Not even mildly amused.

Ingmar Bergman R.I.P.

Pizza of the Day & Contest Time

Today's pizza has big chunks of tofu, red peppers, green onions, olives and a whack of garlic. Oh yeah, and Mozzarella and Parmesan cheeses. And, it's almost round. And there's dried basil baked into the crust. Which brings us to the contest. My pizzas seem to have been lacking a certain flair and creativity of late. I don't mean to say I haven't been enjoying them, just that they're lacking a certain level of excitement. This is where you come in: In the comments section make recommendations of new pizza ingredients or combinations of ingredients that I haven't thought of or tried yet. The only rule is no meat. I'm the judge so I decide who wins. The prize: I name the pizza after you, post it on my blog and you get the public recognition you so obviously desire.

Teutonic Efficiency!

Now, I don't wish to unnecessarily propagate stereotypes and I certainly don't wish to add to the rampant anti-Teutonic hysteria that is so fashionable these days, but I would like to tell you something of what it means to be organized and efficient. So, I was recently in Deutschland for a vacation. I woke up relatively early one morning, planning to take a train from Dresden to Berlin. When I got to the train station I bought my ticket but they told me the train may not actually go as there was a strike. Mind you, this conversation was all taking place in German, and my German is nicht so gut, so, that's what I understood to be happening. Sure enough, when it came time for my train to come and go, in the land of punctual trains, it didn't. After talking to some Deutsche-Bahn (the German train company) information people I learned that there was indeed a strike on but that it should only last a couple hours and the best thing would be for me to wait until it ended, then my train would come and I could go to Berlin. They gave me free coffee as I stood and waited and before too long, there was an announcement that the strike had ended and trains were resuming. The DB info people weren't really sure what was happening but kept me informed as best they could, even writing a message on my ticket authorizing a different route, should that be required, and finally when my train came they sent me to it and off I went to Berlin. Later, while on the train, there was another announcement apologising for any inconveniences caused by the 98 minute strike. It was at this point I did the math and figured out how late my train had actually been. The answer...98 minutes. Jawohl!

Slavin' for the Man!

I am going to do something tomorrow that I have not done in a very long time. I hope that after tomorrow I don't have to do it again for a very long time, if ever.
Tomorrow is a Saturday.
I am going to work tomorrow.
Yuck!

Grind!

2007 Grouse Grind Summit Series Leader Board after Day 1:

1. SB-52:46
2. PK-54:46
3. DKBC-55:20(?)

In the News...

And the award for the best headline ever goes too...

click

Pizza of the Day!

Today's pizza has jerk tofu, mushrooms, red peppers, green olives and green onions. Oh yeah, and some Gouda cheese too. Has anyone else noticed that I can't make a round pizza?

Breakfast!

Mummy!

Well now, this here news story is just plain weird.

Toronto FC

Canada's new and only MLS team, Toronto FC finally scored a goal today (three actually) at the fifth time of asking. It's good for them, I suppose, but bad for me as I was planning on writing about them going their first five games without having scored at all. They went and ruined that so I got nothing.