I've been thinking about this lately and just recently became inspired to write...
One thing I've noticed since the Danish cartoon thing was huge...it seems to me that some people, in their way, insist that free speech/expression now includes not only saying what one will...but saying ANYTHING one can...just to prove they can. For instance, lets say...well...racist jokes and comments. One is, to some minds, now required to tell these jokes in defense of free speech. Without them, apparently, "the terrorists have won".
I say, in my defense of free speech, that one is allowed...even encouraged in some areas...to NOT say some things. Just because you can say something does not mean you have to march up to the mountaintop and scream it out for everyone to hear...and do so particularly if individuals or groups of individuals become offended because they have no business stomping all over your rights by being offended. It wrecks the fun.
Really...I am a strong proponent of free speech. So much so that I reserve the right to a/ not say things I don't want to, b/ differentiate between that which ought to be said in private and that should be said in public, and c/ feel free to tell other people what I think of what they just said (which, frankly, seems to me to be the most forgotten part).
About the Danish cartoons...
I was against the Western Standard's publication (publicity stunt) of them, but I did buy a copy of this month's Harper's magazine. The reason I was against one and for the other? Timing and context. The WS published these cartoons to rub noses in it and to make money. They capitialized on the timing by publishing this particular issue during the riots. And, a visit to the Shotgun Blog will show you that some of this magazine's readers and blog-commenters have no love for Islam or it's members and therefore little concern towards both sides of the issue. Harper's, on the other hand, published them much later...in fact, it's likely that most people had seen the cartoons by then. They invited that wonderful illustrator Art Spiegelman, the creator of Maus (which, if you haven't already read, you really ought to), to comment on the merit of each cartoon as a cartoon and rate the offensiveness of each. It was a truly interesting article.
What can I say? One had taste, the other didn't.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Don't know how else to do this...
Kelly!!
I lost your email address...could you email me with it??
Thanks
I lost your email address...could you email me with it??
Thanks
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Without naming names
It's odd...
It wasn't until I started going to some blogs that I realized that people are still really upset by political correctness.
Now...I agree. It can go too far and everyone needs to chill out a bit. But we all realize why we use it, right? I mean, when we sort it all out at the end, it'll be a good thing, right? We agree on that, right?
...and I understand that the only way we're gonna sort it out (anything, really) is talking about it, airing our views and opinions, have a little back and forth, a little conflict...that sorta stuff...so shine on all you crazy diamonds.
However...has it ever occured to some of you that you're just not funny?
Really...if someone got offended because you used the n-word, or called a woman a slut, or made that joke about First Nations peoples, or continue to use the oh-so-tired phrase "Islamofascist"....maybe it's the delivery. Maybe you're not that funny. Maybe you're not catching on that those things are way behind the times and you are no longer cutting edge.
Assuming you were 'cutting edge' sometime in 1956.
And chances are you're not that funny if you're not able to sense comedic timing by using outdated material. And, for added measure (unless you're Stuart McLean or someone of his ilk, who is hilarious even if you spot the punchline 10 miles away) surprise is often a key element to comedy. If you look like you're going to make that same gay joke that everyone who looks like you makes, well...*yawn* and, 'maybe you shouldn't say that.'
Hell, I get offended when someone makes the joking reply, 'let's not go there' or some other catchphrase from a lame sitcom or reality show, because...Jesus...do you think I'm so inbred as to think you're clever retort is original? Or I have so little going on that I need to laugh at a joke I guessed you would make 10 minutes ago?
So...to conclude...if you're all fired up because no one laughed at your edgy and in-your-face comedy...maybe it's not political correctness you have to blame, maybe it's you.
It wasn't until I started going to some blogs that I realized that people are still really upset by political correctness.
Now...I agree. It can go too far and everyone needs to chill out a bit. But we all realize why we use it, right? I mean, when we sort it all out at the end, it'll be a good thing, right? We agree on that, right?
...and I understand that the only way we're gonna sort it out (anything, really) is talking about it, airing our views and opinions, have a little back and forth, a little conflict...that sorta stuff...so shine on all you crazy diamonds.
However...has it ever occured to some of you that you're just not funny?
Really...if someone got offended because you used the n-word, or called a woman a slut, or made that joke about First Nations peoples, or continue to use the oh-so-tired phrase "Islamofascist"....maybe it's the delivery. Maybe you're not that funny. Maybe you're not catching on that those things are way behind the times and you are no longer cutting edge.
Assuming you were 'cutting edge' sometime in 1956.
And chances are you're not that funny if you're not able to sense comedic timing by using outdated material. And, for added measure (unless you're Stuart McLean or someone of his ilk, who is hilarious even if you spot the punchline 10 miles away) surprise is often a key element to comedy. If you look like you're going to make that same gay joke that everyone who looks like you makes, well...*yawn* and, 'maybe you shouldn't say that.'
Hell, I get offended when someone makes the joking reply, 'let's not go there' or some other catchphrase from a lame sitcom or reality show, because...Jesus...do you think I'm so inbred as to think you're clever retort is original? Or I have so little going on that I need to laugh at a joke I guessed you would make 10 minutes ago?
So...to conclude...if you're all fired up because no one laughed at your edgy and in-your-face comedy...maybe it's not political correctness you have to blame, maybe it's you.
Friday, June 09, 2006
one of my all time favourites
I was helping, the other day, to evangelize Seanbaby to a group of people...so, to further my cause I beg that you read When Robots Attack.
Dear Seanbaby,
I hope you live forever.
Love, Himbly
Dear Seanbaby,
I hope you live forever.
Love, Himbly
Monday, June 05, 2006
Seriously
I just wrote a huge long post on linguistics, universals and why I don't think all Muslims are evil....but I've got to do some editing.
I encourage people to read this The Western Standard Shotgun Blog. In all honesty, it is blood chilling to say the least when some of these people write about Islam and the current fiasco that is our world situation. I honestly encourage you to take a look. I post occassionally, but they are so far away from my mode of thought it is hard to know how to reply, or what point to reply to.
But, it's always good to learn different viewpoints. If you can't concede to a certain sentiment, at least you know why.
I encourage people to read this The Western Standard Shotgun Blog. In all honesty, it is blood chilling to say the least when some of these people write about Islam and the current fiasco that is our world situation. I honestly encourage you to take a look. I post occassionally, but they are so far away from my mode of thought it is hard to know how to reply, or what point to reply to.
But, it's always good to learn different viewpoints. If you can't concede to a certain sentiment, at least you know why.
Well, it's about time...
I'd been meaning to link The Hot Librarian.
She's funny.
Go read.
I'll put her over here ------------->
She's funny.
Go read.
I'll put her over here ------------->
Friday, June 02, 2006
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
The boss of me
*cough cough*
Jesus
I just went for a run, still trying to shed those pounds from a fairly physically inactive winter, and my body let me know in no uncertain terms that it was upset with my choice of activity at that moment and that I ought to reconsider and immediately make my way home - at a much slower pace.
It gave me a blister, stomach cramps and an allergy to the pollen currently floating through our air in order to make it's point.
I did what it said. And I'm still wheezing.
Bitch.
Aside from all that, however, I had a fantastic day. I took a 'personal day' from work, got up at the same time I would if I were going but instead of work, I went to Nellie's for breakfast. A wonderful breakfast, I might add. Came home, did some knitting then spent the entire afternoon at the university meeting with profs.
Working downtown can be a drag. I walk past no less than 3 buildings that are half or fully torn down on my way down 4th st. It's grey, it's noisy, buses fly past at an alarmingly close proximity...
I arrived on campus today -for the first time since my last assignment was due- and it was beautiful...lush lawns, lilacs, students studying on warm patches of grass. I never thought of the UofC campus as a particularly attractive area, but with the warm and still-spring weather...it was like an effing oasis. I called my mum and asked her why I ever leave.
I attended my first, of what hopefully will be many, lab meetings at the Speech Development lab. My prof said I could come and watch the goings on. So cool. I loved it. Discussions on what will be done next, a PhD student presenting experiment proposals that were absolutely fascinating. Then I met with another prof who is helping me catch up on so much theory I've missed the past 8-9 years. I left feeling alive and excited again.
Then I ran...but I've covered that.
Been a long time since I've blogged. I've had some ideas and started writing some things, but it really doesn't work unless it comes organically, hey?
Lilac fest came and went. It's impossible for me to sit in my apartment when it's going on...not because I think it's exciting, it's not, but because when you've got one 'thing' going on outside one window and another 'thing' going on outside another window, you can go freaking batty. Stupid OJs woke me up with their stupid preparation for their stupid volleyball tournament, so I had a huge hate-on for them all day.
Every year, it seems, I run into probably the one ex-boyfriend that I...well...lets just say that I've had a hard time readjusting my view of the fairness and justness of a universe that allows someone like him to continue on in fairly good health and living in a way that does not cause him pain every day.
Holy crap...I just reread that. That's harsh. Ha! But continue on...
However...I think this time I've managed to stop my bile from rising. Let me say here that my feelings of revulsion every time I hear his name do not come from any feelings of loss. Oh no no no. I thank my lucky stars every day that he found someone he wanted to cheat on me with which called for the demise of our relationship (and I hope she thanks her lucky stars that he found someone to cheat on her causing their breakup...she's in a much better place now and I hope she knows it...she seems like a nice girl, she definitely deserves better). It was this breakup that signalled the beginning of a complete overhaul of my life...the aim being to get the hell away from people like him.
No...my reason for such a strong reaction was twofold. Firstly, I never really quite got over the humiliation of being with him. It's embarrassing the things I put up with and I can only point to my weakened state at the time as any sort of excuse for allowing him in my life. Secondly, and this is part of the lesson my time reexamining my life has taught me, bad people don't deserve kindness from me.
I know a whole lot of creeps. Creeps that at one time I felt the need to impress. Creeps that convinced me that some things were 'okay' when they were not.
Step one, get creeps out of life. Check. Step two, don't pretend that you approve of their behaviour or ideals by being kind. Check.
Step two actually has come quite naturally, as my story about flipping the bird to an old acquaintance in Safeway that I wrote about earlier and am too lazy to link to has shown. So when, as it seems I do every lilac fest, good ol' rockadorky walks by with his usual I-hope-we-can-one-day-be-friends half smile, it is quite a natural reaction for me to counter with my, what I now call, squeegie-kid-at-my-windshield look.
And for that look, go to the mirror and pretend that a squeegie kid has just started on your windshield while you were busy toying with the radio or fan or something. It's kinda like that defeated, unwelcoming, unhappy, faintly surprised, my-god-this-is-lame, how-akward look you get.
But you know what? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the new girl. Small, retronaught, young...and he just looked like an aging, pathetic, slightly closeted man. In the entire time I knew him, he never really had any sort of style or personality he could call his own...just a bunch of things he put together to make some people think he was cool.
I then realized that on the scale of honour it is better to be hated than pittied...so I pity him.
Anyway...that was far too much space dedicated to poor pitiable fartface, so we won't be discussing him anymore.
I think I'll go take a bath now....I love my new eucalyptus bubbles!
Jesus
I just went for a run, still trying to shed those pounds from a fairly physically inactive winter, and my body let me know in no uncertain terms that it was upset with my choice of activity at that moment and that I ought to reconsider and immediately make my way home - at a much slower pace.
It gave me a blister, stomach cramps and an allergy to the pollen currently floating through our air in order to make it's point.
I did what it said. And I'm still wheezing.
Bitch.
Aside from all that, however, I had a fantastic day. I took a 'personal day' from work, got up at the same time I would if I were going but instead of work, I went to Nellie's for breakfast. A wonderful breakfast, I might add. Came home, did some knitting then spent the entire afternoon at the university meeting with profs.
Working downtown can be a drag. I walk past no less than 3 buildings that are half or fully torn down on my way down 4th st. It's grey, it's noisy, buses fly past at an alarmingly close proximity...
I arrived on campus today -for the first time since my last assignment was due- and it was beautiful...lush lawns, lilacs, students studying on warm patches of grass. I never thought of the UofC campus as a particularly attractive area, but with the warm and still-spring weather...it was like an effing oasis. I called my mum and asked her why I ever leave.
I attended my first, of what hopefully will be many, lab meetings at the Speech Development lab. My prof said I could come and watch the goings on. So cool. I loved it. Discussions on what will be done next, a PhD student presenting experiment proposals that were absolutely fascinating. Then I met with another prof who is helping me catch up on so much theory I've missed the past 8-9 years. I left feeling alive and excited again.
Then I ran...but I've covered that.
Been a long time since I've blogged. I've had some ideas and started writing some things, but it really doesn't work unless it comes organically, hey?
Lilac fest came and went. It's impossible for me to sit in my apartment when it's going on...not because I think it's exciting, it's not, but because when you've got one 'thing' going on outside one window and another 'thing' going on outside another window, you can go freaking batty. Stupid OJs woke me up with their stupid preparation for their stupid volleyball tournament, so I had a huge hate-on for them all day.
Every year, it seems, I run into probably the one ex-boyfriend that I...well...lets just say that I've had a hard time readjusting my view of the fairness and justness of a universe that allows someone like him to continue on in fairly good health and living in a way that does not cause him pain every day.
Holy crap...I just reread that. That's harsh. Ha! But continue on...
However...I think this time I've managed to stop my bile from rising. Let me say here that my feelings of revulsion every time I hear his name do not come from any feelings of loss. Oh no no no. I thank my lucky stars every day that he found someone he wanted to cheat on me with which called for the demise of our relationship (and I hope she thanks her lucky stars that he found someone to cheat on her causing their breakup...she's in a much better place now and I hope she knows it...she seems like a nice girl, she definitely deserves better). It was this breakup that signalled the beginning of a complete overhaul of my life...the aim being to get the hell away from people like him.
No...my reason for such a strong reaction was twofold. Firstly, I never really quite got over the humiliation of being with him. It's embarrassing the things I put up with and I can only point to my weakened state at the time as any sort of excuse for allowing him in my life. Secondly, and this is part of the lesson my time reexamining my life has taught me, bad people don't deserve kindness from me.
I know a whole lot of creeps. Creeps that at one time I felt the need to impress. Creeps that convinced me that some things were 'okay' when they were not.
Step one, get creeps out of life. Check. Step two, don't pretend that you approve of their behaviour or ideals by being kind. Check.
Step two actually has come quite naturally, as my story about flipping the bird to an old acquaintance in Safeway that I wrote about earlier and am too lazy to link to has shown. So when, as it seems I do every lilac fest, good ol' rockadorky walks by with his usual I-hope-we-can-one-day-be-friends half smile, it is quite a natural reaction for me to counter with my, what I now call, squeegie-kid-at-my-windshield look.
And for that look, go to the mirror and pretend that a squeegie kid has just started on your windshield while you were busy toying with the radio or fan or something. It's kinda like that defeated, unwelcoming, unhappy, faintly surprised, my-god-this-is-lame, how-akward look you get.
But you know what? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the new girl. Small, retronaught, young...and he just looked like an aging, pathetic, slightly closeted man. In the entire time I knew him, he never really had any sort of style or personality he could call his own...just a bunch of things he put together to make some people think he was cool.
I then realized that on the scale of honour it is better to be hated than pittied...so I pity him.
Anyway...that was far too much space dedicated to poor pitiable fartface, so we won't be discussing him anymore.
I think I'll go take a bath now....I love my new eucalyptus bubbles!
Sunday, May 21, 2006
A tip
I've been hearing how much pollen is in the air right now and that everyone's allergies are through the roof.
But not mine. And I'm the queen of the sniffle/sneeze/ichy eyes.
Not to say it's not affecting me at all...it is...it always does. But this year has been my best in many many years.
Seriously...stop eating sugar.
It helps.
Sugar...and I've said it before...is the sweet sweet devil and if you stop eating it, you will not have bad allergies this year.
There...I've said my piece.
g'night
But not mine. And I'm the queen of the sniffle/sneeze/ichy eyes.
Not to say it's not affecting me at all...it is...it always does. But this year has been my best in many many years.
Seriously...stop eating sugar.
It helps.
Sugar...and I've said it before...is the sweet sweet devil and if you stop eating it, you will not have bad allergies this year.
There...I've said my piece.
g'night
Monday, May 15, 2006
Holy Jesus Crap!
I did the Mother's Day run yesterday...and since I'm fucking hardcore I was like, 'dude, I'm TOTALLY doing the 10K run. None of this 5K shit for me, yo'.....completely ignoring the well established fact that I hadn't run for months. I only started running again (after months of not) the past 2 maybe 3 weeks.
I was wholly unprepared for the stubborness that would make me push myself through those 10K beyond what my body was acclimated to.
Actually, I did okay. I finished not too far off of my time last year (not that I'm keeping very good track of these things) and felt alright the whole run.
But, yesterday evening...
that was an entirely different story as I nearly cried in pain each time I got up off the couch.
HOLY SHIT MY KNEES!
My knees are so mad at me they want to meet me at the bikeracks after school.
I was wholly unprepared for the stubborness that would make me push myself through those 10K beyond what my body was acclimated to.
Actually, I did okay. I finished not too far off of my time last year (not that I'm keeping very good track of these things) and felt alright the whole run.
But, yesterday evening...
that was an entirely different story as I nearly cried in pain each time I got up off the couch.
HOLY SHIT MY KNEES!
My knees are so mad at me they want to meet me at the bikeracks after school.
Monday, May 08, 2006
the things you find out with site meters
A long time ago, I wrote this post.
anyway, I was just going through the referals to this blog...you know, how people got here and stuff.
One person got here by googling toddler ingested roundup weed spray.
did someone's kid swallow Roundup Weed Spray?? and if he/she did...why was the first place they turned the internet instead of the hospital??
anyway, I was just going through the referals to this blog...you know, how people got here and stuff.
One person got here by googling toddler ingested roundup weed spray.
did someone's kid swallow Roundup Weed Spray?? and if he/she did...why was the first place they turned the internet instead of the hospital??
If I had a picture, I'd show you...
I finished my first straight-outta-my-head-gettin'-down-wit-the-knitty project.
Stripedy legwarmers.
Right. Effing. On.
However...they're a little too big and they're more like stripedy anklewarmers.
I say 'a little too big'...g-damn...they fit on a friend's head.
I still love 'em. I'm wearing them now.
In other news...
My marks came in...*proud*. I'm halfway through the text my syntax prof wanted me to read...*proud*. I'm waiting on a huge gift from Amazon.ca which will include three phonology texts, a knitting socks book, and a Vinyl Cafe cd.
What am I? 80?
I decided to go the high road at work and tell them straight out that I"m quitting to pursue lovely linguistics in Sept, but I wanted to work full time during the summer. They said yes. I had to check again, but they really didn't mind. So, I'm adjusting to my once again new schedule and spending the down time at work (there's lots, currently) practicing my sentence trees and trying to figure out a thesis...and knitting.
I, like, totally get paid for this shit, yo. With monthly bonuses. Too bad I can't stand the thought of another year of dead end oil and gas jobs, because as far as dead end oil and gas jobs go...it's hard to beat.
Physically, I'm not sure my body is quite out of the crazy school phase since I'm still suffering from anxiety periodically without knowing why. I'll just wait it out, I guess.
uh..what else?
Nothing really...just excited for the future.
Stripedy legwarmers.
Right. Effing. On.
However...they're a little too big and they're more like stripedy anklewarmers.
I say 'a little too big'...g-damn...they fit on a friend's head.
I still love 'em. I'm wearing them now.
In other news...
My marks came in...*proud*. I'm halfway through the text my syntax prof wanted me to read...*proud*. I'm waiting on a huge gift from Amazon.ca which will include three phonology texts, a knitting socks book, and a Vinyl Cafe cd.
What am I? 80?
I decided to go the high road at work and tell them straight out that I"m quitting to pursue lovely linguistics in Sept, but I wanted to work full time during the summer. They said yes. I had to check again, but they really didn't mind. So, I'm adjusting to my once again new schedule and spending the down time at work (there's lots, currently) practicing my sentence trees and trying to figure out a thesis...and knitting.
I, like, totally get paid for this shit, yo. With monthly bonuses. Too bad I can't stand the thought of another year of dead end oil and gas jobs, because as far as dead end oil and gas jobs go...it's hard to beat.
Physically, I'm not sure my body is quite out of the crazy school phase since I'm still suffering from anxiety periodically without knowing why. I'll just wait it out, I guess.
uh..what else?
Nothing really...just excited for the future.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
don't know what I'll do
I've got one more question of my semantics takehome exam to write out 'in good' and then I'm finished for the year.
*long exhalation*
wait...have I mentioned how genius I think these guys are:
anyway...aside from my recent fascination with youtube.com
So, I spent today writing out my semantics takehome exam 'in good', like I said, and left for school early in order to meet my cousin, continue to write out my semantics and meet with my prof to discuss my group project and it's sucky-ness, and hopefully hand in this thing so I don't have to go back up there.
Yeah...that didn't work quite how I wanted it to.
I forgot my homework at work...and my prof had little sympathy about the group project. No, she had sympathy just not the kind that translates itself into better marks.
bummer
So, I took all this as a sign that I must be meant to drink cider and hang out at home with the bf.
I wanted to do everything tonight...I knit a little, played a little WoW, and even managed to make a double batch of applespice loaf and that is why I'm up at 12:14 typing in my blog...aside from the fact that blogging was another thing I wanted to do, I'm waiting for my appleloaf to finish baking.
I'm exhausted from my relaxing night.
*long exhalation*
wait...have I mentioned how genius I think these guys are:
anyway...aside from my recent fascination with youtube.com
So, I spent today writing out my semantics takehome exam 'in good', like I said, and left for school early in order to meet my cousin, continue to write out my semantics and meet with my prof to discuss my group project and it's sucky-ness, and hopefully hand in this thing so I don't have to go back up there.
Yeah...that didn't work quite how I wanted it to.
I forgot my homework at work...and my prof had little sympathy about the group project. No, she had sympathy just not the kind that translates itself into better marks.
bummer
So, I took all this as a sign that I must be meant to drink cider and hang out at home with the bf.
I wanted to do everything tonight...I knit a little, played a little WoW, and even managed to make a double batch of applespice loaf and that is why I'm up at 12:14 typing in my blog...aside from the fact that blogging was another thing I wanted to do, I'm waiting for my appleloaf to finish baking.
I'm exhausted from my relaxing night.
Monday, April 24, 2006
belated wishes
Firstly, if you're idea of success is in a picture attached to this post...eat a dick.
Yeah, I know. I know. He's rich. They're beautiful. Blah. Blah. Fucking blah. Look closer. See what's missing? Aside from clothes? Uh...souls.
Yes, indeedy do-dah..it's Hef's 80th. Apparently he celebrated in his usual creepy style with a lingerie party. Who does that who's not grody? Let's make that set of x, where x is an individual, x throws lingerie parties, and x is NOT grody a little smaller. Who does that when they're 80 and is not grody?
These blonde ladies pictured with Hef...these ladies are his girlfriends. Joe Rogan once said that he's got so many girlfriends because they require a support group in order to be with him (paraphrased). Considering that between the time when I heard JRogan say that until now, Hef has gotten older and Hef's gf brigade has tripled in size! I would say that JRogan was pretty accurate in his musings.
So, I checked out his b-day greeting website. You can find it here, filed under depraved lameness. If you are so inclined, I would ask you permit me a few words before you go zooming off to The Grotto.
Please please please check out the birthday greetings. They come in three flavours: celeb, centerfold, and girlfriend.
*ahem*
The celeb Hef-80-barfday-greeting was enlightening. It was eyeopening. It was wonderful. Because if I ever thought that these people were better than me somehow....I've proved myself wrong and I can continue holding my head high.
My friend once said, 'money does not buy class'. Now, she was talking about Calgary during times of the Stampede or the Red Mile, but I found it to be extremely profound and carry it as I do so many proverbs. Let me tell you, it applies here. You only need to see Paris Hilton and her birthday song/wish to understand what I'm talking about.
The centerfold Hef-b-day-wish vid was also something to behold. To sum it up:
Hef, you are amazinggg
Hef, I love you
Hef, you've done more for me than anyone
Hef, you gave me a personal masturbation tool
Oh? He did more for you than anyone? So...he sent you to school, did he? Encouraged you in artistic endevours? Helped you find your true self?
Or did he plaster your tits all over his shitty magazine and use you for eye/handcandy at his grotto parties?
And what is an 80 year old man giving a 20-something girl a 'personal masturbation tool' for? Name anywhere else that would be cool. Anywhere.
Okay..and so what if he does show pics of these girls boobies? What's the big deal? It's not like these women are ruined afterwards, that's true. It's not like they aren't doing it completely willingly and getting quite nicely compensated for any pains taken.
I just hate that he gets glory for this. Everyone in the g-damn world thinks this guy is the cat's pyjamas because he knows how to exploit the beauty of the women who let him. Yeah, so does Larry Flynt...but Larry Flynt doesn't try to come off as some sorta high class guy.
And Hef is not some sorta high class guy because money does not buy class.
I'm not even going to talk about the girlfriend's vid...good lord, it kinda speaks for itself.
Oliver Stone says in his b-day wish that Hef is a man that lives his dream and he (Stone) is in awe. Yeah, me too, Ollie...me too.
Yeah, I know. I know. He's rich. They're beautiful. Blah. Blah. Fucking blah. Look closer. See what's missing? Aside from clothes? Uh...souls.
Yes, indeedy do-dah..it's Hef's 80th. Apparently he celebrated in his usual creepy style with a lingerie party. Who does that who's not grody? Let's make that set of x, where x is an individual, x throws lingerie parties, and x is NOT grody a little smaller. Who does that when they're 80 and is not grody?
These blonde ladies pictured with Hef...these ladies are his girlfriends. Joe Rogan once said that he's got so many girlfriends because they require a support group in order to be with him (paraphrased). Considering that between the time when I heard JRogan say that until now, Hef has gotten older and Hef's gf brigade has tripled in size! I would say that JRogan was pretty accurate in his musings.
So, I checked out his b-day greeting website. You can find it here, filed under depraved lameness. If you are so inclined, I would ask you permit me a few words before you go zooming off to The Grotto.
Please please please check out the birthday greetings. They come in three flavours: celeb, centerfold, and girlfriend.
*ahem*
The celeb Hef-80-barfday-greeting was enlightening. It was eyeopening. It was wonderful. Because if I ever thought that these people were better than me somehow....I've proved myself wrong and I can continue holding my head high.
My friend once said, 'money does not buy class'. Now, she was talking about Calgary during times of the Stampede or the Red Mile, but I found it to be extremely profound and carry it as I do so many proverbs. Let me tell you, it applies here. You only need to see Paris Hilton and her birthday song/wish to understand what I'm talking about.
The centerfold Hef-b-day-wish vid was also something to behold. To sum it up:
Hef, you are amazinggg
Hef, I love you
Hef, you've done more for me than anyone
Hef, you gave me a personal masturbation tool
Oh? He did more for you than anyone? So...he sent you to school, did he? Encouraged you in artistic endevours? Helped you find your true self?
Or did he plaster your tits all over his shitty magazine and use you for eye/handcandy at his grotto parties?
And what is an 80 year old man giving a 20-something girl a 'personal masturbation tool' for? Name anywhere else that would be cool. Anywhere.
Okay..and so what if he does show pics of these girls boobies? What's the big deal? It's not like these women are ruined afterwards, that's true. It's not like they aren't doing it completely willingly and getting quite nicely compensated for any pains taken.
I just hate that he gets glory for this. Everyone in the g-damn world thinks this guy is the cat's pyjamas because he knows how to exploit the beauty of the women who let him. Yeah, so does Larry Flynt...but Larry Flynt doesn't try to come off as some sorta high class guy.
And Hef is not some sorta high class guy because money does not buy class.
I'm not even going to talk about the girlfriend's vid...good lord, it kinda speaks for itself.
Oliver Stone says in his b-day wish that Hef is a man that lives his dream and he (Stone) is in awe. Yeah, me too, Ollie...me too.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
hyperventilation!
I've even written Ralph Bakshi himself trying to find these...
(awhile ago...before youtube.com)
(awhile ago...before youtube.com)
Monday, April 17, 2006
Huzzah!
I just finished 17 pages worth of creole linguistics...and boy are my arms tired.
I hand this in tomorrow, then one more assignment due before my semester ends and I am finished this year. What a year.
I've given myself until today to eat sweets...tomorrow it's back on my no sugar kick.
This post is lame, I know..but I wanted to write the thing about the no sugar so that I make sure I do it.
Coming soon, though...my opinion on Hef's 80s b-day.
Here's a preview: Happy Birthday, you loser jackass.
Night all!
I hand this in tomorrow, then one more assignment due before my semester ends and I am finished this year. What a year.
I've given myself until today to eat sweets...tomorrow it's back on my no sugar kick.
This post is lame, I know..but I wanted to write the thing about the no sugar so that I make sure I do it.
Coming soon, though...my opinion on Hef's 80s b-day.
Here's a preview: Happy Birthday, you loser jackass.
Night all!
these are always fun
| Greed: | Medium | |
| Gluttony: | Medium | |
| Wrath: | Medium | |
| Sloth: | Low | |
| Envy: | Very Low | |
| Lust: | Very Low | |
| Pride: | High |
Take the Seven Deadly Sins Quiz
Friday, April 14, 2006
SO GOOD!
These are the most awesome things I've ever seen in my entire life and they make me want to sing.
Teen girl squad mittens. The girl who made them is very likely the next messiah.
If'n you don't know for what I speak, I suggest you hightail it over to homestarrunner.com and watch funny in action.
Might I suggest a wee taste of episode 8?
Teen girl squad mittens. The girl who made them is very likely the next messiah.
If'n you don't know for what I speak, I suggest you hightail it over to homestarrunner.com and watch funny in action.
Might I suggest a wee taste of episode 8?
Sunday, April 09, 2006
The funniest thing...
I went to the doctor today...
About a month ago, I noticed....
...well, you know when you've got a dry throat and you swallow a pill or bit of food or something? You know that stuck feeling? That's what I had.
...so I noticed that it felt as though something was caught in my throat. I was in the midst of tests, papers, and assignments, so I wasn't able to deal with it. I said to myself that it was probably stress, so if it didn't clear up after I was finished all these things, I'd see someone about it.
Aside from that, the bulk of my time was spend on assignments in my Speech Pathology class and I know my own psychology enough to know that it was entirely possible that some sort of psychosomatic thing was going on. I'd studied so much on throat defects.
The 6th came...that was the day I was clear of all that school stuff. I worked at "day-work" all day, and then went to the theatre that night...finished working at midnight. I came home and I started to fret. I was certain I had some sort of throat cancer. I tossed and turned that night until 2:30'ish quitely crying so that I wouldn't wake up bf. I decided I needed to see the doctor.
I went today (long story as to why not friday). I want to say here that if you live in the Mission area of Calgary and you want to go to the walk-in clinic on 4th and 23rd...don't. The doctor is pompus, arrogant and won't listen to you. After 5 minutes of talking to me, he asked me if I was hoarse! He'd been listening to me...shouldn't he know if I was hoarse?
Blah blah blah...the upshot of this is:
I called my mum (as one does) and explained how the dr. swabbed my throat and sent me out, but I was not satisfied because I was certain my problem was not an infection. My cousin happened to be over visting Mum. She (my cousin) called me back and told me how, apparently, a few of my family members get this with intense stress. She (they had discovered she had a brain tumor soon after she had her baby) was so freaked out that she choked on tea because her throat felt just like mine did.
The doctor told her it was stress and if she stopped thinking about it, it would go away. She said, once she heard that, it was gone in two days.
I talked to her at 5'ish. It's 2am now and my throat feels almost back to normal.
Weird, hey?
About a month ago, I noticed....
...well, you know when you've got a dry throat and you swallow a pill or bit of food or something? You know that stuck feeling? That's what I had.
...so I noticed that it felt as though something was caught in my throat. I was in the midst of tests, papers, and assignments, so I wasn't able to deal with it. I said to myself that it was probably stress, so if it didn't clear up after I was finished all these things, I'd see someone about it.
Aside from that, the bulk of my time was spend on assignments in my Speech Pathology class and I know my own psychology enough to know that it was entirely possible that some sort of psychosomatic thing was going on. I'd studied so much on throat defects.
The 6th came...that was the day I was clear of all that school stuff. I worked at "day-work" all day, and then went to the theatre that night...finished working at midnight. I came home and I started to fret. I was certain I had some sort of throat cancer. I tossed and turned that night until 2:30'ish quitely crying so that I wouldn't wake up bf. I decided I needed to see the doctor.
I went today (long story as to why not friday). I want to say here that if you live in the Mission area of Calgary and you want to go to the walk-in clinic on 4th and 23rd...don't. The doctor is pompus, arrogant and won't listen to you. After 5 minutes of talking to me, he asked me if I was hoarse! He'd been listening to me...shouldn't he know if I was hoarse?
Blah blah blah...the upshot of this is:
I called my mum (as one does) and explained how the dr. swabbed my throat and sent me out, but I was not satisfied because I was certain my problem was not an infection. My cousin happened to be over visting Mum. She (my cousin) called me back and told me how, apparently, a few of my family members get this with intense stress. She (they had discovered she had a brain tumor soon after she had her baby) was so freaked out that she choked on tea because her throat felt just like mine did.
The doctor told her it was stress and if she stopped thinking about it, it would go away. She said, once she heard that, it was gone in two days.
I talked to her at 5'ish. It's 2am now and my throat feels almost back to normal.
Weird, hey?
Chomsky
I am very familiar with Chomsky's theories...
...on language, that is.
I am not quite as familiar with Chomsky's social views.
This gets me in trouble.
For the last few weeks, I've been involved in a debate over Chomsky and his alleged 'hypocrisy' involving my friend Bumf, and his partial posting of this guy's article that ended up in the Western Standard. Well, these guys might not know I've been involved in this debate, but I assure you, students in the linguistics department at the UofC do.
W.G.'s argument was that Chomsky is a hypocrite because he believes language is an innate feature of the human mind...and he's left wing.
I'm not going to get into all that right now. You can read it in my post before this, if you want. I did eventually comment to W.G. and I hope he responds.
But this whole thing has been haunting me.
Now...this being the case, I did a little research. I intend to do more because I think starting my M.A. in linguistics in the fall would warrent I do a little research into philosophy beyond language acquisition...but as I do research into Chomsky's politics, I'm finding something interesting.
Now...as a woman studying linguistics, believe me...I know Chomsky can be a difficult read. Hell, I've attended a speaking engagement here in Calgary a few years ago and didn't understand a word (the acoustics were terrible). But I've seen Manufacturing Consent. My boyfriend reads Chomsky regularly. I'm not entirely blind to his politics. And I've done some additional research.
So..what I found was interesting. Frankly, I don't think anyone who argues against Chomsky has read/listend to him, either. They've certainly read/listened to each other...but not necessarily him.
They describe him as a socialist. And hate him for it. Well...my own politics aside..from what I understand, he's not. He's an anarchist (with a socialist bend). Look:
CHOMSKY: The introduction to Guerin's book that you mentioned opens with a quote from an anarchist sympathiser a century ago, who says that anarchism has a broad back, and endures anything. One major element has been what has traditionally been called 'libertarian socialism'. I've tried to explain there and elsewhere what I mean by that, stressing that it's hardly original; I'm taking the ideas from leading figures in the anarchist movement whom I quote, and who rather consistently describe themselves as socialists, while harshly condemning the 'new class' of radical intellectuals who seek to attain state power in the course of popular struggle and to become the vicious Red bureaucracy of which Bakunin warned; what's often called 'socialism'. I rather agree with Rudolf Rocker's perception that these (quite central) tendencies in anarchism draw from the best of Enlightenment and classical liberal thought, well beyond what he described. In fact, as I've tried to show they contrast sharply with Marxist-Leninist doctrine and practice, the 'libertarian' doctrines that are fashionable in the US and UK particularly, and other contemporary ideologies, all of which seem to me to reduce to advocacy of one or another form of illegitimate authority, quite often real tyranny."
So, when I read "...because he argues that our sociability is also natural, and therefore in a better world without capitalists, etc, we would all be loving socialists like him." I wonder where that came from.
From what I understand, and I do intend to get more familiar with it this summer when I have time, what he's against is extreme forms of politics...because they end up needing some sort of oppression in order to keep themselves going. That's his problem with capitalism, that an unusual amount of power has been given to "the corporation".
And actually...that's what I thought he was all about the whole time.
...on language, that is.
I am not quite as familiar with Chomsky's social views.
This gets me in trouble.
For the last few weeks, I've been involved in a debate over Chomsky and his alleged 'hypocrisy' involving my friend Bumf, and his partial posting of this guy's article that ended up in the Western Standard. Well, these guys might not know I've been involved in this debate, but I assure you, students in the linguistics department at the UofC do.
W.G.'s argument was that Chomsky is a hypocrite because he believes language is an innate feature of the human mind...and he's left wing.
I'm not going to get into all that right now. You can read it in my post before this, if you want. I did eventually comment to W.G. and I hope he responds.
But this whole thing has been haunting me.
Now...this being the case, I did a little research. I intend to do more because I think starting my M.A. in linguistics in the fall would warrent I do a little research into philosophy beyond language acquisition...but as I do research into Chomsky's politics, I'm finding something interesting.
Now...as a woman studying linguistics, believe me...I know Chomsky can be a difficult read. Hell, I've attended a speaking engagement here in Calgary a few years ago and didn't understand a word (the acoustics were terrible). But I've seen Manufacturing Consent. My boyfriend reads Chomsky regularly. I'm not entirely blind to his politics. And I've done some additional research.
So..what I found was interesting. Frankly, I don't think anyone who argues against Chomsky has read/listend to him, either. They've certainly read/listened to each other...but not necessarily him.
They describe him as a socialist. And hate him for it. Well...my own politics aside..from what I understand, he's not. He's an anarchist (with a socialist bend). Look:
CHOMSKY: The introduction to Guerin's book that you mentioned opens with a quote from an anarchist sympathiser a century ago, who says that anarchism has a broad back, and endures anything. One major element has been what has traditionally been called 'libertarian socialism'. I've tried to explain there and elsewhere what I mean by that, stressing that it's hardly original; I'm taking the ideas from leading figures in the anarchist movement whom I quote, and who rather consistently describe themselves as socialists, while harshly condemning the 'new class' of radical intellectuals who seek to attain state power in the course of popular struggle and to become the vicious Red bureaucracy of which Bakunin warned; what's often called 'socialism'. I rather agree with Rudolf Rocker's perception that these (quite central) tendencies in anarchism draw from the best of Enlightenment and classical liberal thought, well beyond what he described. In fact, as I've tried to show they contrast sharply with Marxist-Leninist doctrine and practice, the 'libertarian' doctrines that are fashionable in the US and UK particularly, and other contemporary ideologies, all of which seem to me to reduce to advocacy of one or another form of illegitimate authority, quite often real tyranny."
So, when I read "...because he argues that our sociability is also natural, and therefore in a better world without capitalists, etc, we would all be loving socialists like him." I wonder where that came from.
From what I understand, and I do intend to get more familiar with it this summer when I have time, what he's against is extreme forms of politics...because they end up needing some sort of oppression in order to keep themselves going. That's his problem with capitalism, that an unusual amount of power has been given to "the corporation".
And actually...that's what I thought he was all about the whole time.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Comments on iTunes #1
I fully understand that, cognitively speaking, loving Led Zeppelin puts me at 'angsty teenage boy with greasy hair and spots' level.
But so does my love of World of Warcraft...
so, perhaps I should get an age/sex change?
But so does my love of World of Warcraft...
so, perhaps I should get an age/sex change?
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
I'd like to thank the academy...
I'm so totally getting all sentimental these days.
The semester (and year) of school is coming to a close...just a few more weeks before my last assignment is handed in, then summer then grad school.
Maybe it's the PMS, maybe it's the chocolate I just ate to aid the PMS, maybe it's the fact I'm really really tired right now, but I feel so much gratitude that I want to send everyone I've ever spoken to a thank you card.
Even the people I hate.
My parents, oh good lord, my parents...I'm never able to thank them enough. All I am able to do right now is knit them hats. This summer, when I have time, I shall shower them in knitted hats. My father shall have miniature hats for all his dogs and chickens and my mother and her husband shall have a new hat for every outfit.
My boyfriend...he gets to live with me. That's enough delirious pleasure that no hat can ever live up to. But he's been absolutely the best and of course he, too, shall have hats.
But there's more...so much more. Work people...so very kind and supportive. Makes me almost feel bad about the huge 'up yours' gesture I'm planning on giving when I leave. I'll wear a sign around my neck listing those who will get flowers and may ignore the rude display.
The semester (and year) of school is coming to a close...just a few more weeks before my last assignment is handed in, then summer then grad school.
Maybe it's the PMS, maybe it's the chocolate I just ate to aid the PMS, maybe it's the fact I'm really really tired right now, but I feel so much gratitude that I want to send everyone I've ever spoken to a thank you card.
Even the people I hate.
My parents, oh good lord, my parents...I'm never able to thank them enough. All I am able to do right now is knit them hats. This summer, when I have time, I shall shower them in knitted hats. My father shall have miniature hats for all his dogs and chickens and my mother and her husband shall have a new hat for every outfit.
My boyfriend...he gets to live with me. That's enough delirious pleasure that no hat can ever live up to. But he's been absolutely the best and of course he, too, shall have hats.
But there's more...so much more. Work people...so very kind and supportive. Makes me almost feel bad about the huge 'up yours' gesture I'm planning on giving when I leave. I'll wear a sign around my neck listing those who will get flowers and may ignore the rude display.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
a few things I've been thinking and then I'll talk about squirrels
First:
My god I hate group projects. I like to call them 'poop projects'.
Second:
I put a bunch of stuff in my iTunes last week and it's SO lovely listening to music while writing papers n' shit. I like Joe Cocker. Shut up.
Third:
I am super duper excited about spending most of my time going to school, researching and learning about linguistics in September. For those of you who might read this blog and for those of you who did not know, I applied for law school as well. I've not heard back yet, but I have heard back from the ling dept. I've been thinking about how I would feel ~if~ I did hear from law...and I don't think I care. I haven't even checked to see ~when~ I should hear from them...so...I think I've made my decision.
*Mary Tyler Moore jump*
...aaannnddd freeze frame!
Fourth:
I have SO much to do right now that I'm amazed I'm not losing my mind all over the damn place. I'm generally pretty cheery for someone who's teetering so close to the crazy edge.
Fifth:
I've started a new thing and am now able to see into the future through my reading of omens, allow me to 'splain,
A couple of weeks ago while walking to work, I was waiting for the 'walk' light when a squeegie kid, smoke in mouth, threw a handful of pennies down in the middle of the intersection. He did so in absolute disgust.
I knew it then...I knew that this was a sign and that I, alone, had the ability to interpret it...
"Prosperous times ahead! If a squeegie kid had the ability to be choosey, so do you! This will be a good day and it's even a possiblity that a stranger will give you something which you may or may not need!"
...plus, angry squeegie kids are funny.
so...yesterday it happened again...and eeners can back me up 'cause I emailed her. I walked by a tree on campus the other day and saw a cuuute black squirrel hanging upside down with his round, cuuute belly facing me...all streched out and eating berries.
"Today will mean success through unconventional means...but you'll look adorable doing it"
I ought to get paid for this shit.
My god I hate group projects. I like to call them 'poop projects'.
Second:
I put a bunch of stuff in my iTunes last week and it's SO lovely listening to music while writing papers n' shit. I like Joe Cocker. Shut up.
Third:
I am super duper excited about spending most of my time going to school, researching and learning about linguistics in September. For those of you who might read this blog and for those of you who did not know, I applied for law school as well. I've not heard back yet, but I have heard back from the ling dept. I've been thinking about how I would feel ~if~ I did hear from law...and I don't think I care. I haven't even checked to see ~when~ I should hear from them...so...I think I've made my decision.
*Mary Tyler Moore jump*
...aaannnddd freeze frame!
Fourth:
I have SO much to do right now that I'm amazed I'm not losing my mind all over the damn place. I'm generally pretty cheery for someone who's teetering so close to the crazy edge.
Fifth:
I've started a new thing and am now able to see into the future through my reading of omens, allow me to 'splain,
A couple of weeks ago while walking to work, I was waiting for the 'walk' light when a squeegie kid, smoke in mouth, threw a handful of pennies down in the middle of the intersection. He did so in absolute disgust.
I knew it then...I knew that this was a sign and that I, alone, had the ability to interpret it...
"Prosperous times ahead! If a squeegie kid had the ability to be choosey, so do you! This will be a good day and it's even a possiblity that a stranger will give you something which you may or may not need!"
...plus, angry squeegie kids are funny.
so...yesterday it happened again...and eeners can back me up 'cause I emailed her. I walked by a tree on campus the other day and saw a cuuute black squirrel hanging upside down with his round, cuuute belly facing me...all streched out and eating berries.
"Today will mean success through unconventional means...but you'll look adorable doing it"
I ought to get paid for this shit.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
On Chomsky...
I have to admit.
I am familiar with Chomsky's political and social views, but not as familiar as I am with his linguistic views...so I needed the help of a book.
From a very broad, but useful reference to have around the house, I managed to find in words a general overview of how Chomsky's social/political theories mesh with those linguistic theories. I am in the midst of writing a paper, so I don't have time to go much deeper into it at the moment, but those folks at the Western Standard who were involved with this post seemed to have done less research than I did.
From Philosophy: 100 Essential Thinkers by P. Stokes (I know...not exactly an academic source, but all I've got at the moment)
...
"This hardwiring is, like other cognitive faculties, an aspect of our human nature. Chomsky sees this as having positive political implications. Rather than being the blank sheet of Lockean empiricism, or the unconstrained free agents of existentialism, our very nature prevents us from being subjugated by extreme and wayward forces. Our nature determines that there are only certain possible political systems that we can tolerate. Oppressive political systems...cannot completely mould our minds. Our thoughts are not, as the behavioural psychologists earlier in the twentieth century had supposed, merely conditiond responses to repeated stimuli. The concept of being a free agent is as hardwired into our nature as the constraints that act on our forms of speech.
...
He has been a constant critic of US foreign policy and of US involvement in Vietnam, Cambodia and the Gulf Wars. He remains an active supporter of radical social change in the US, as well as continuing his work as a linguist and theoretical philosopher. He describes his political view as 'libertarian socialist' - a blend of socialism and anarchism."
thoughts?
I am familiar with Chomsky's political and social views, but not as familiar as I am with his linguistic views...so I needed the help of a book.
From a very broad, but useful reference to have around the house, I managed to find in words a general overview of how Chomsky's social/political theories mesh with those linguistic theories. I am in the midst of writing a paper, so I don't have time to go much deeper into it at the moment, but those folks at the Western Standard who were involved with this post seemed to have done less research than I did.
From Philosophy: 100 Essential Thinkers by P. Stokes (I know...not exactly an academic source, but all I've got at the moment)
...
"This hardwiring is, like other cognitive faculties, an aspect of our human nature. Chomsky sees this as having positive political implications. Rather than being the blank sheet of Lockean empiricism, or the unconstrained free agents of existentialism, our very nature prevents us from being subjugated by extreme and wayward forces. Our nature determines that there are only certain possible political systems that we can tolerate. Oppressive political systems...cannot completely mould our minds. Our thoughts are not, as the behavioural psychologists earlier in the twentieth century had supposed, merely conditiond responses to repeated stimuli. The concept of being a free agent is as hardwired into our nature as the constraints that act on our forms of speech.
...
He has been a constant critic of US foreign policy and of US involvement in Vietnam, Cambodia and the Gulf Wars. He remains an active supporter of radical social change in the US, as well as continuing his work as a linguist and theoretical philosopher. He describes his political view as 'libertarian socialist' - a blend of socialism and anarchism."
thoughts?
Monday, March 20, 2006
Plastics! That's what I'll get into!
I got accepted into grad studies in linguistics.
I start in September.
whew
I start in September.
whew
Sunday, March 19, 2006
"The Frame"
Today I'm going to talk a little about art. Funny, I was going to do this anyway and dug out my Zappa autobiography (the reason will become clear in a minute) then I saw this post at my friend Huck's blog and I got all fired up.
A few caveats: I'm no expert, just an 'enjoyer' of art.
Oh...there's only one? I was sure there was more...
Now...the reason Zappa's picture is up for this post is the following: If memory serves me correctly, I was about 19 in Victoria when I saw his autobiography sitting in Monroe's books. I read it, enjoyed it and what he said about art I have taken with me since...and I've not found a better explanation yet. Forgive me for this, but frankly (no pun), I can't figure out why people fight me so hard on it.
And here it is. I'm going to write what he said, first:
The Frame
The most important thing in art is The Frame. For painting: literally; for other arts: figuratively-because, without this humble appliance, you can't know where The Art stops and The Real World begins.
You have to put a 'box' around it because otherwise, what is that shit on the wall?
If John Cage, for instance, says, "I'm putting a contact microphone on my throat, and I'm going to drink carrot juice, and that's my composition," then his gurgling qualifies as his composition because he put a frame around it and said so. "Take it or leave it, I now will this to be music." After that it's a matter of taste. Without the frame-as-announced, it's a guy swallowing carrot juice.
(Frank Zappa, 1989 (emphasis his))
*ahem* (emphasis mine, now)
After that it's a matter of taste.
That is what I think of art. I cannot stand it when someone says one of the next two things:
"That's not art!"
"I could have done that."
...because, yes...it is. It may not be art you like, it may not be good art at all...but it is art...and maybe you could have...you didn't, he/she did and someone liked it enough that now you're seeing it in a public area. So, too bad you didn't think of it and they did.
(and one day I'm going to write a post about how I'm all for using 'they' as a genderless singular pronoun)
Now, please understand, there is a huge difference between good and bad art and just because I think it's art if the artist says it's art doesn't mean I think it's good. Just because I believe that when B. Spears says what she does is music, it is music, doesn't mean I don't think it's crap music.
But, also just because you don't want to hang it on your wall (I'm thinking of Duchamp's 'fountain' right now) doesn't mean it's not an important, relevant, and/or influencial piece of art.
What I'm saying is this: it is not art based on whether you like it or not. Art does not have to be pretty...and thank christ for that. If it doesn't speak to you, it may speak to someone else...and who are you to judge?
Ummm...yeah. I kinda got distracted just now, so I'll end this here.
*curtsy*
A few caveats: I'm no expert, just an 'enjoyer' of art.
Oh...there's only one? I was sure there was more...
Now...the reason Zappa's picture is up for this post is the following: If memory serves me correctly, I was about 19 in Victoria when I saw his autobiography sitting in Monroe's books. I read it, enjoyed it and what he said about art I have taken with me since...and I've not found a better explanation yet. Forgive me for this, but frankly (no pun), I can't figure out why people fight me so hard on it.
And here it is. I'm going to write what he said, first:
The Frame
The most important thing in art is The Frame. For painting: literally; for other arts: figuratively-because, without this humble appliance, you can't know where The Art stops and The Real World begins.
You have to put a 'box' around it because otherwise, what is that shit on the wall?
If John Cage, for instance, says, "I'm putting a contact microphone on my throat, and I'm going to drink carrot juice, and that's my composition," then his gurgling qualifies as his composition because he put a frame around it and said so. "Take it or leave it, I now will this to be music." After that it's a matter of taste. Without the frame-as-announced, it's a guy swallowing carrot juice.
(Frank Zappa, 1989 (emphasis his))
*ahem* (emphasis mine, now)
After that it's a matter of taste.
That is what I think of art. I cannot stand it when someone says one of the next two things:
"That's not art!"
"I could have done that."
...because, yes...it is. It may not be art you like, it may not be good art at all...but it is art...and maybe you could have...you didn't, he/she did and someone liked it enough that now you're seeing it in a public area. So, too bad you didn't think of it and they did.
(and one day I'm going to write a post about how I'm all for using 'they' as a genderless singular pronoun)
Now, please understand, there is a huge difference between good and bad art and just because I think it's art if the artist says it's art doesn't mean I think it's good. Just because I believe that when B. Spears says what she does is music, it is music, doesn't mean I don't think it's crap music.
But, also just because you don't want to hang it on your wall (I'm thinking of Duchamp's 'fountain' right now) doesn't mean it's not an important, relevant, and/or influencial piece of art.
What I'm saying is this: it is not art based on whether you like it or not. Art does not have to be pretty...and thank christ for that. If it doesn't speak to you, it may speak to someone else...and who are you to judge?
Ummm...yeah. I kinda got distracted just now, so I'll end this here.
*curtsy*
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Monday, March 13, 2006
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Saturday, March 11, 2006
winding up
Ever have those kinds of tired that come so deep from within that it's not a sleep thing, it's a soul thing?
I'm that kind of tired today.
First time in a long time I've had nothing immediate due...or was occupied with a meltdown. I've got a whole body kind of tired.
From as far back as early February, I've been going top speed in order to get the essential shit done. Either that, or my rest time was thwarted by unforseen circumstances...then lead back into top speed. It's been that far back that I haven't been awoken by anxiety attacks that ranged from annoying to crippling.
ha!
But once I got past the anxiety, I just kept my head down and powered through.
'Cept today...I've got nothing major due for 2 weeks. So when I woke up this morning, I was incredibly light headed and even had the spins when I laid down.
My remedy for that was to eat a ton and lay on the couch.
Funny, though...the body's (or maybe just my body's) response to stress, hey?
I'm that kind of tired today.
First time in a long time I've had nothing immediate due...or was occupied with a meltdown. I've got a whole body kind of tired.
From as far back as early February, I've been going top speed in order to get the essential shit done. Either that, or my rest time was thwarted by unforseen circumstances...then lead back into top speed. It's been that far back that I haven't been awoken by anxiety attacks that ranged from annoying to crippling.
ha!
But once I got past the anxiety, I just kept my head down and powered through.
'Cept today...I've got nothing major due for 2 weeks. So when I woke up this morning, I was incredibly light headed and even had the spins when I laid down.
My remedy for that was to eat a ton and lay on the couch.
Funny, though...the body's (or maybe just my body's) response to stress, hey?
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Spore
Black Mana showed me this the other day and I'm totally freaking out.
It's a game simulation by the creator of The Sims and SimCity and stuff...his newest creation that's knocked my inner nerd's socks off. No....it's made my inner nerd cry like a baby for a bottle...my very viewable outer nerd is currently sockless.
Check it out here.
It's a game simulation by the creator of The Sims and SimCity and stuff...his newest creation that's knocked my inner nerd's socks off. No....it's made my inner nerd cry like a baby for a bottle...my very viewable outer nerd is currently sockless.
Check it out here.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Johari Window
Friday, February 17, 2006
You've been...
It's 1:39 am on thurs night/fri morning and I'm finishing my takehome exam due tomorrow. Yes, I know...I ought to have done this earlier...
However...due to a remarkable (and so very quick) discovery, I am treating myself to a little blogging for being oh, so smart and figuring it out in WAY less time than I thought I would.
So gather, children, and let me tell you tales of great adventure...we (my partners in this adventure and I) call this one You Got Greased (alt title Pwned!).
I worked tonight at the theatre, along side my usual Tuesday night companions...
(yes, I know it's Thursday...I switched days...quit throwing me off)
...a sweet couple I shall call C and J.
First show goes in...
Now, J noticed this way before I did, but these two girls (young girls, may I add) made frequent trips to the bathroom...leaving fairly quickly, like, not really enough time to 'squat and wipe' as J put it.
When one girl brought out her boyfriend to stand in the lobby as she took her turn in the restroom...even I got suspicious. J finally had enough and inspected the bathroom after she left...sure enough...
Cocaine, ladies and gentlemen...the very stuff the residue of which was easily seen atop the back of one of our toilets.
Let me pause for a small aside here: I work in a theatre that's about 80 years old...started off as a garage in the 20s...and it looks that way. The place, as dear as I hold it to my heart, is a freaking mess. Those toilets, sorry to say, need cleaning. Now, to get a little personal here...I'm a squatter. I don't sit on any public toilet unless I have a nest of a thousand tissues. The public restroom in question, well, I don't use it unless I can manage practically standing (besides, I know where the executive bathroom is).
So..imagine my shock, not only that 16'ish year old girls are inhaling the devil's dust, and not only because they were there with an adult (someone's mum? I dunno...), but why on earth would you injest anything that was sitting on the back of any toilet, much less one of ours???
After she went back into the theatre, C, J and I went to work. My first idea was to spread comet on the back of the toilet. After quick discussion, we decided that if a 16 year old is strung out enough, they may be stupid enough to think the coke-fairy has come and dropped off a pile of the stuff on the top of each toilet in the bathroom. We decided that revenge would not be as sweet with a dead teen on our hands, so I used the opportunity to give the toilets a quick wipedown.
If you wanna see a movie and pee/poo during your visit, now's the time, folks!
We toyed with the dill powder, coffee mate...and decided against anything they could end up inhaling, no matter how vinegar-y it was. Then J told us about the time she worked at a restaurant and the same thing happened to them.
"We sprayed Pam on the back of the toilets"
*looks all around*
C suggested, "the popcorn oil!"
I grabbed a small chunk of the coconut oil we use to pop our corn, melted it in my hand and wiped the back of each toilet with a fine coat. It was perfect, you couldn't tell at all.
Then...we waited.
The show let out...I was busy upstairs, but when I returned, J leapt over to me, laughing.
"They went into the bathroom after the show, so I peeked in and sure enough there were 4 feet in one stall. After a bit of a commotion, they came outreally pissed off."
Then she said, "hahahahahahahaha"
Apparently, they stomped out of the bathroom and announced, "FUUUUCK". Walking past J, they both tried to turn her into a block of ice using the power of their snarls. J's reply was a beaming smile and "HA! hahahaha."
So, I ran into the bathroom to see the result.
Oh. My. God. Cocaine mixed with coconut grease smeared across the top of the toilet.
So freaking funny.
We couldn't stop laughing.
However...due to a remarkable (and so very quick) discovery, I am treating myself to a little blogging for being oh, so smart and figuring it out in WAY less time than I thought I would.
So gather, children, and let me tell you tales of great adventure...we (my partners in this adventure and I) call this one You Got Greased (alt title Pwned!).
I worked tonight at the theatre, along side my usual Tuesday night companions...
(yes, I know it's Thursday...I switched days...quit throwing me off)
...a sweet couple I shall call C and J.
First show goes in...
Now, J noticed this way before I did, but these two girls (young girls, may I add) made frequent trips to the bathroom...leaving fairly quickly, like, not really enough time to 'squat and wipe' as J put it.
When one girl brought out her boyfriend to stand in the lobby as she took her turn in the restroom...even I got suspicious. J finally had enough and inspected the bathroom after she left...sure enough...
Cocaine, ladies and gentlemen...the very stuff the residue of which was easily seen atop the back of one of our toilets.
Let me pause for a small aside here: I work in a theatre that's about 80 years old...started off as a garage in the 20s...and it looks that way. The place, as dear as I hold it to my heart, is a freaking mess. Those toilets, sorry to say, need cleaning. Now, to get a little personal here...I'm a squatter. I don't sit on any public toilet unless I have a nest of a thousand tissues. The public restroom in question, well, I don't use it unless I can manage practically standing (besides, I know where the executive bathroom is).
So..imagine my shock, not only that 16'ish year old girls are inhaling the devil's dust, and not only because they were there with an adult (someone's mum? I dunno...), but why on earth would you injest anything that was sitting on the back of any toilet, much less one of ours???
After she went back into the theatre, C, J and I went to work. My first idea was to spread comet on the back of the toilet. After quick discussion, we decided that if a 16 year old is strung out enough, they may be stupid enough to think the coke-fairy has come and dropped off a pile of the stuff on the top of each toilet in the bathroom. We decided that revenge would not be as sweet with a dead teen on our hands, so I used the opportunity to give the toilets a quick wipedown.
If you wanna see a movie and pee/poo during your visit, now's the time, folks!
We toyed with the dill powder, coffee mate...and decided against anything they could end up inhaling, no matter how vinegar-y it was. Then J told us about the time she worked at a restaurant and the same thing happened to them.
"We sprayed Pam on the back of the toilets"
*looks all around*
C suggested, "the popcorn oil!"
I grabbed a small chunk of the coconut oil we use to pop our corn, melted it in my hand and wiped the back of each toilet with a fine coat. It was perfect, you couldn't tell at all.
Then...we waited.
The show let out...I was busy upstairs, but when I returned, J leapt over to me, laughing.
"They went into the bathroom after the show, so I peeked in and sure enough there were 4 feet in one stall. After a bit of a commotion, they came out
Then she said, "hahahahahahahaha"
Apparently, they stomped out of the bathroom and announced, "FUUUUCK". Walking past J, they both tried to turn her into a block of ice using the power of their snarls. J's reply was a beaming smile and "HA! hahahaha."
So, I ran into the bathroom to see the result.
Oh. My. God. Cocaine mixed with coconut grease smeared across the top of the toilet.
So freaking funny.
We couldn't stop laughing.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
In the interest of fairness
Sunday, February 12, 2006
simple math
What happens when you spend your whole evening studying the anatomy and physiology of the speech system....and you knit a scarf?
let anatomy be (a) and knitting a scarf be (s)
a + s = you dream about getting a knitting needle lodged in your throat
let anatomy be (a) and knitting a scarf be (s)
a + s = you dream about getting a knitting needle lodged in your throat
Saturday, February 11, 2006
time to rethink that pompadour
A conversation the other day -the nature of which would be too long to get into here- lead me to the following statement:
(reworked slightly as I thought it through)
*ahem*
Even goths know that 15 rockabillies anywhere is the international symbol for intense lameness ahead.
I stand by it.
Thank you.
(reworked slightly as I thought it through)
*ahem*
Even goths know that 15 rockabillies anywhere is the international symbol for intense lameness ahead.
I stand by it.
Thank you.
what I do when I'm procrastinating
You fit in with: Spiritualism Your ideals are mostly spiritual, but in an individualistic way. While spirituality is very important in your life, organized religion itself may not be for you. It is best for you to seek these things on your own terms. 40% spiritual. 80% reason-oriented. | ||||
| ||||
Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com |
Thursday, February 02, 2006
...as if Black Jacques walked into a bar
Is it me?
Must be.
You know what the fastest way to get me out of a room is these days?
Play Coldplay.
I have come to the point where I cannot stand to be around when Chris Martin starts his own brand of sentimental, overdone, heartfelt, melodic whining.
I mean...that first song was good....but clearly they thought so as well as they haven't deviated from it since.
Maybe if I put on some Coldplay right now, I'd be quicker getting my ass to work.
[later on]: as a matter of fact, I think I'll say that Coldplay is probably the most overrated band out there right now. I could change that when I start thinking of other overrated bands...but for now, I stand by what I just said.
Must be.
You know what the fastest way to get me out of a room is these days?
Play Coldplay.
I have come to the point where I cannot stand to be around when Chris Martin starts his own brand of sentimental, overdone, heartfelt, melodic whining.
I mean...that first song was good....but clearly they thought so as well as they haven't deviated from it since.
Maybe if I put on some Coldplay right now, I'd be quicker getting my ass to work.
[later on]: as a matter of fact, I think I'll say that Coldplay is probably the most overrated band out there right now. I could change that when I start thinking of other overrated bands...but for now, I stand by what I just said.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
My Nanny
Last night, I had a wonderful time with my grandmother. We sat for hours knitting and gossiping. Such fun. Her aphasia was almost unnoticable as we talked about family, friends, neighbours, moving to Canada, knitting, my life, her life...lots. I forgot that when you stick a needle and yarn in that woman's hands, she becomes as creative, clever and present as anyone.
When I came home afterwards, C told me I was glowing.
I joked about her aphasia in my speech pathology class the other day and felt a few people cringe with embarrassment for me. I ought to have tugged at my collar Rodney Dangerfield style and tapped an imaginary microphone..."is this thing on?".
hehe...wish I did.
I've told this story so many times, but you gotta understand that I find it amazing that this lil' lady...the same lil lady that calls my mum up in the evening because she can't turn her VCR on...went through WWII in Poland on her own with a kid.
And...because I'm drinking I'm going to continue...
Granddad left with the Polish army once the war started, leaving Nanny and my uncle (who was 2) on their own. At that time, I guess, his mother was living with them (something he sprung on her after the wedding, she told me), so she took care of her, too.
The city in which they both lived and grew up, Przemysl, was apparently in the middle of Poland at the time. From what she's told me, the Russians and Germans fought there and the occupation would switch sometimes daily. She told me once that you could go across the river to do shopping and by the time you were done, occupation lines had changed and you couldn't get home.
That meant that when the Russians took over her neck of the city, her house would be used as an officer's headquarters. She, my uncle, and her mother-in-law would live in one room, the officers lived in the rest of the house. She hated how they took down her crucifixes and put up pictures of Stalin.
When the Germans took over it meant labour camps. She was a forced labourer for the Germans for much of the war.
Eventually...like, within the last few months of the war, the Germans decided to pack up their 'belongings' (ie. my grandmother and other's with her) and move back to safer ground. Nanny was 27 years old with a 5 year old child and never saw Poland again. To this day. Never saw her mother (her father died a couple of years before the war), her sister or her brother (actually, her brother was shot by Russians). They wrote, but never saw each other. She has only seen her hometown in pictures I brought back to her when I went.
She built coffins, believe it or not, for the remaining four months and after it was done...nothing. She found herself friends and worked as a (coincidentally) nanny for a couple of German families. Okay...really, the details here get fuzzy. But....really...my grandparents didn't have contact with each other for nearly 8 years. If that were me telling my grandchild, my details would be fuzzy, too.
Granddad found her through writing letters with her mother, came to Germany and brought her to Scotland. My mother was born then. Then my aunt Zosia and then my uncle Ludwick. 18 years it took to complete their brood. Jesus.
Nanny still tells me she remembers being in Scotland with 4 kids and getting a letter from the Red Cross telling her they hadn't found her husband yet.
So...that's why I have ties to Scotland and no actual Scotish blood.
If anyone's wondering and has actually made it this far.
So...I look at pictures like that (taken at my mum's on my 32nd b-day) and think, "She did all that? That little lady that taught me how to knit and used to threaten me with a wooden spoon?"
She doesn't talk about those days much anymore. I know all this because I used to question her endlessly about the war and Poland. Her aphasia makes it difficult to communicate on subjects she's emotional about.
She's going to be 90 this year. My grandfather died 25 years ago last September and she's been living in the same house on her own since. And if her borsht is anything to go by, she's doing fine.
I love that battleaxe.
When I came home afterwards, C told me I was glowing.
I joked about her aphasia in my speech pathology class the other day and felt a few people cringe with embarrassment for me. I ought to have tugged at my collar Rodney Dangerfield style and tapped an imaginary microphone..."is this thing on?".
hehe...wish I did.
I've told this story so many times, but you gotta understand that I find it amazing that this lil' lady...the same lil lady that calls my mum up in the evening because she can't turn her VCR on...went through WWII in Poland on her own with a kid.
And...because I'm drinking I'm going to continue...
Granddad left with the Polish army once the war started, leaving Nanny and my uncle (who was 2) on their own. At that time, I guess, his mother was living with them (something he sprung on her after the wedding, she told me), so she took care of her, too.
The city in which they both lived and grew up, Przemysl, was apparently in the middle of Poland at the time. From what she's told me, the Russians and Germans fought there and the occupation would switch sometimes daily. She told me once that you could go across the river to do shopping and by the time you were done, occupation lines had changed and you couldn't get home.
That meant that when the Russians took over her neck of the city, her house would be used as an officer's headquarters. She, my uncle, and her mother-in-law would live in one room, the officers lived in the rest of the house. She hated how they took down her crucifixes and put up pictures of Stalin.
When the Germans took over it meant labour camps. She was a forced labourer for the Germans for much of the war.
Eventually...like, within the last few months of the war, the Germans decided to pack up their 'belongings' (ie. my grandmother and other's with her) and move back to safer ground. Nanny was 27 years old with a 5 year old child and never saw Poland again. To this day. Never saw her mother (her father died a couple of years before the war), her sister or her brother (actually, her brother was shot by Russians). They wrote, but never saw each other. She has only seen her hometown in pictures I brought back to her when I went.
She built coffins, believe it or not, for the remaining four months and after it was done...nothing. She found herself friends and worked as a (coincidentally) nanny for a couple of German families. Okay...really, the details here get fuzzy. But....really...my grandparents didn't have contact with each other for nearly 8 years. If that were me telling my grandchild, my details would be fuzzy, too.
Granddad found her through writing letters with her mother, came to Germany and brought her to Scotland. My mother was born then. Then my aunt Zosia and then my uncle Ludwick. 18 years it took to complete their brood. Jesus.
Nanny still tells me she remembers being in Scotland with 4 kids and getting a letter from the Red Cross telling her they hadn't found her husband yet.
So...that's why I have ties to Scotland and no actual Scotish blood.
If anyone's wondering and has actually made it this far.
So...I look at pictures like that (taken at my mum's on my 32nd b-day) and think, "She did all that? That little lady that taught me how to knit and used to threaten me with a wooden spoon?"
She doesn't talk about those days much anymore. I know all this because I used to question her endlessly about the war and Poland. Her aphasia makes it difficult to communicate on subjects she's emotional about.
She's going to be 90 this year. My grandfather died 25 years ago last September and she's been living in the same house on her own since. And if her borsht is anything to go by, she's doing fine.
I love that battleaxe.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
my not secret not shame
Things I love:
-hearing Led Zeppelin on the radio and knowing that if I just relax and try not to think about it too much, that every word will just come to me so that I can sing them out loud.
Thoughts:
- did John Bonham feel like a wanker after he listened to Moby Dick? 'Cause he sure sounded like one. Which is disappointing because he is one of my 'anchors' in my Led Zeppelin theory of 'anchors' vs 'flakes'
-hearing Led Zeppelin on the radio and knowing that if I just relax and try not to think about it too much, that every word will just come to me so that I can sing them out loud.
Thoughts:
- did John Bonham feel like a wanker after he listened to Moby Dick? 'Cause he sure sounded like one. Which is disappointing because he is one of my 'anchors' in my Led Zeppelin theory of 'anchors' vs 'flakes'
rules
Are there not rules to shared laundryrooms?
I mean, I have what I think are some pretty good guidelines, but I must be crazy because people are animals!
Are you with me on these?
rules (in order of appearance (in my head)):
- when starting a batch of laundry, IF someone else has claimed the machines first, then you must wait a reasonable time for them to finish their run. They have dibs. Unless it's an emergency and you need to get just one load done.
- If there are more than one set of washers/dryers in the laundry space, you are not allowed to take up all of them in order to have all your clothes washed faster. You must stick to one washer/dryer set. Maybe two if you need to get them done fast and there's three sets in the room. Okay, basically, leave a washer and dryer for someone else.
- If someone leaves their clothes in the washing machine or dryer after the cycle has finished, you are NOT to remove those clothes unless a reasonable amount of time has passed. I usually allow two more visits to the laundryroom spaced about 15 minutes apart. 30 min is reasonable time to take laundry out, but 5 is not. I hate when people do that to me.
Okay..I think that's the basics. Am I out of my mind? I think all of these sound reasonable, but there's always some pushy laundry a-hole in every building, I guess.
I mean, I have what I think are some pretty good guidelines, but I must be crazy because people are animals!
Are you with me on these?
rules (in order of appearance (in my head)):
- when starting a batch of laundry, IF someone else has claimed the machines first, then you must wait a reasonable time for them to finish their run. They have dibs. Unless it's an emergency and you need to get just one load done.
- If there are more than one set of washers/dryers in the laundry space, you are not allowed to take up all of them in order to have all your clothes washed faster. You must stick to one washer/dryer set. Maybe two if you need to get them done fast and there's three sets in the room. Okay, basically, leave a washer and dryer for someone else.
- If someone leaves their clothes in the washing machine or dryer after the cycle has finished, you are NOT to remove those clothes unless a reasonable amount of time has passed. I usually allow two more visits to the laundryroom spaced about 15 minutes apart. 30 min is reasonable time to take laundry out, but 5 is not. I hate when people do that to me.
Okay..I think that's the basics. Am I out of my mind? I think all of these sound reasonable, but there's always some pushy laundry a-hole in every building, I guess.
decisions, decisions...
So...
It's been bugging me since September (and before, actually).
What the hell am I going to do after this year? Like, what grad program should I choose?
Yesterday, with only 2'ish weeks before the deadline, I made up my mind. And I felt confident.
However, when bf came home last night and I announced my new plan, this is what happened:
"Okay..I've decided what I'm going to apply for at school...I'm gonna ***OUCH***...holy crap! My neck just seized up!......"
...and it still hurts.
Is that a bad sign?
It's been bugging me since September (and before, actually).
What the hell am I going to do after this year? Like, what grad program should I choose?
Yesterday, with only 2'ish weeks before the deadline, I made up my mind. And I felt confident.
However, when bf came home last night and I announced my new plan, this is what happened:
"Okay..I've decided what I'm going to apply for at school...I'm gonna ***OUCH***...holy crap! My neck just seized up!......"
...and it still hurts.
Is that a bad sign?
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
hey! I know you!
I walked past Preston Manning today on the way to the C-train.
I've got nothing against the guy personally, just the frothing-at-the-mouth-goddamn-it-everything-would-be-fine-if-we-just-went-back-to-the-way-things-used-to-be-praise-Jesus ones that joined his club.
Anyway...so I wanted to shout, "hey, everybody! It's Preston Manning!" but, ya know, it's election time and I didn't want to be, ya know...viewed as having those...ummm...leanings.
I've got nothing against the guy personally, just the frothing-at-the-mouth-goddamn-it-everything-would-be-fine-if-we-just-went-back-to-the-way-things-used-to-be-praise-Jesus ones that joined his club.
Anyway...so I wanted to shout, "hey, everybody! It's Preston Manning!" but, ya know, it's election time and I didn't want to be, ya know...viewed as having those...ummm...leanings.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
oh, happy day
I've done some things and been in some situations I'm not proud of.
A few years ago I was weak. Like, weaker than I've ever been. Some people I knew at the time took huge advantage of this and it took me awhile to sorta recognize them for the crappy human beings they were.
I credit my friends after this danky period and especially C for teaching me that it's okay to have my own idea of right vs wrong and that I can believe my gut when I think people are creeps. And I don't need creeps around me.
I slowly developed a 'shit list' of these remorseless pricks/prickettes and started to really hate them. I mean, really, they're symbols of things I have to forgive myself for, obviously (says my inner Freud), but what's wrong with a little hatred when people deserve it, anyway?
Today, about an hour ago actually, I was in Safeway picking up some stuff for dinner when I ran into one of these drains on human existance that I hadn't seen in years.
I always wondered what I would do/think/feel in these situations...
He recognized me and when I passed him I stopped and turned around to see his smiling, 'hey! I know you!' face. Without thinking about it, I slowly smirked and lifted my hand which had already been formed in 'bird-flipping' pose. Then I walked away.
Okay..okay..not much...but it was enough to make me smile the rest of my shopping trip and when I walked past him again on my way out, I saw his face was red and he was flustered as I giggled and said, 'dork' and marched out of the door.
And the door did open for me, 'cause after that I worried that I'd walk into something...apparently whatever force is out there granted me this opportunity to belittle someone quietly and float away without tripping, stuttering, or falling. And for that, I might even pray tonight.
hahahaha...nah..I won't. But still.
A few years ago I was weak. Like, weaker than I've ever been. Some people I knew at the time took huge advantage of this and it took me awhile to sorta recognize them for the crappy human beings they were.
I credit my friends after this danky period and especially C for teaching me that it's okay to have my own idea of right vs wrong and that I can believe my gut when I think people are creeps. And I don't need creeps around me.
I slowly developed a 'shit list' of these remorseless pricks/prickettes and started to really hate them. I mean, really, they're symbols of things I have to forgive myself for, obviously (says my inner Freud), but what's wrong with a little hatred when people deserve it, anyway?
Today, about an hour ago actually, I was in Safeway picking up some stuff for dinner when I ran into one of these drains on human existance that I hadn't seen in years.
I always wondered what I would do/think/feel in these situations...
He recognized me and when I passed him I stopped and turned around to see his smiling, 'hey! I know you!' face. Without thinking about it, I slowly smirked and lifted my hand which had already been formed in 'bird-flipping' pose. Then I walked away.
Okay..okay..not much...but it was enough to make me smile the rest of my shopping trip and when I walked past him again on my way out, I saw his face was red and he was flustered as I giggled and said, 'dork' and marched out of the door.
And the door did open for me, 'cause after that I worried that I'd walk into something...apparently whatever force is out there granted me this opportunity to belittle someone quietly and float away without tripping, stuttering, or falling. And for that, I might even pray tonight.
hahahaha...nah..I won't. But still.
Friday, January 06, 2006
The penguins go marching up my bum...
Hurrah
Hurrah
shut up.
March of the Penguins was not good and I'll tell you why.
I am one of the first in any room or to be amazed by the wonder of nature. Animals are fascinating. Creatures all over this big green and blue earth are just chock full of crazy, interesting, wonderful, shocking, etc...things. Biology and evolution have provided each species with unique tools in which to perform certain tasks in order to maintain the ability to create more of the little effers. Totally.
So, why do we always have to anthropomorphize them every. damn. time.?
I just don't believe that these birds are capable of complex emotions or thoughts. If they march over miles of ice to get this birth thing done, then that's astonishing enough...you don't have to pretend that a mama bird is crying over it's dead young. 'Cause it's not.
Case in point? If those mama-penguins loved their children soooo durn much, why was there almost no action when a...
oh dear...here we go with the collective nouns: my sources say that penguins can be a: colony, crèche, huddle, parcel, etc. I'll use huddle in this case
...huddle of their chicks was getting attacked by that Jimmy Durante looking bird?
Anyway...
I guess I like my animal documentaries about facts, not sentimental, heart-tugging speculation. We have no way of knowing how a penguin feels about a situation because we're not penguins. Chances are, however, they don't feel the same way we do in similar situations...why? 'cause our lives are completely different. They're penguins. We're humans. And if you haven't noticed, our responses to survival are pret-ty different.
Hurrah
shut up.
March of the Penguins was not good and I'll tell you why.
I am one of the first in any room or to be amazed by the wonder of nature. Animals are fascinating. Creatures all over this big green and blue earth are just chock full of crazy, interesting, wonderful, shocking, etc...things. Biology and evolution have provided each species with unique tools in which to perform certain tasks in order to maintain the ability to create more of the little effers. Totally.
So, why do we always have to anthropomorphize them every. damn. time.?
I just don't believe that these birds are capable of complex emotions or thoughts. If they march over miles of ice to get this birth thing done, then that's astonishing enough...you don't have to pretend that a mama bird is crying over it's dead young. 'Cause it's not.
Case in point? If those mama-penguins loved their children soooo durn much, why was there almost no action when a...
oh dear...here we go with the collective nouns: my sources say that penguins can be a: colony, crèche, huddle, parcel, etc. I'll use huddle in this case
...huddle of their chicks was getting attacked by that Jimmy Durante looking bird?
Anyway...
I guess I like my animal documentaries about facts, not sentimental, heart-tugging speculation. We have no way of knowing how a penguin feels about a situation because we're not penguins. Chances are, however, they don't feel the same way we do in similar situations...why? 'cause our lives are completely different. They're penguins. We're humans. And if you haven't noticed, our responses to survival are pret-ty different.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Tagged, hey?
oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god...
I've been tagged by this guy and I've never done this before...
*fret*
Okay...so...I write 5 things that are weird about me?
Is that what it's about?
'kay...after thinking about it, I decided it's best not to think about it and let the 5 things flow through:
*deep breath*
here we go:
1- There are two types of salads I make as comfort food. Both were invented by me at the age of 16 in response to 'fending for myself' while my father worked out of town, and neither have changed much since that time. It is usually important to me that the ingredients to at least one of these salads is in my fridge at given time.
2- I handraised a ton of baby birds when I was a kid, mainly pigeons or robins.
I probably know more about pigeons than you do.
3- I cannot STAND when people leave the top off of good pens. Cheap ballpoints, I don't care about but good pens...drives me batty. In fact, I have an affinity for all good stationary...I am the stationary whisperer.
4- I get terribly paranoid about people overhearing my conversations, even when they're not about someone (good or bad). I used to have a habit of constantly checking to see if my cell was on, until I got my sweet sweet flip-phone.
5- I have sort of half-assed followed Danny Elfman's career since I was a kid and Oingo Boingo was "big". I liked his name when I first heard it and I remember him looking kinda nice crazy and red-headed. Then I started seeing his name on films. When I bought PeeWee's Big Adventure on DVD and heard his commentary, a lot of things fell into place.
Other careers I've followed/cheered on: Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, and Mark Mothersbaugh.
Okay..so now I pick people to tag?
black mana if he ever blogs again.
eeners who is the only person with a blog who's likely to even see this post.
You're it!
I've been tagged by this guy and I've never done this before...
*fret*
Okay...so...I write 5 things that are weird about me?
Is that what it's about?
'kay...after thinking about it, I decided it's best not to think about it and let the 5 things flow through:
*deep breath*
here we go:
1- There are two types of salads I make as comfort food. Both were invented by me at the age of 16 in response to 'fending for myself' while my father worked out of town, and neither have changed much since that time. It is usually important to me that the ingredients to at least one of these salads is in my fridge at given time.
2- I handraised a ton of baby birds when I was a kid, mainly pigeons or robins.
I probably know more about pigeons than you do.
3- I cannot STAND when people leave the top off of good pens. Cheap ballpoints, I don't care about but good pens...drives me batty. In fact, I have an affinity for all good stationary...I am the stationary whisperer.
4- I get terribly paranoid about people overhearing my conversations, even when they're not about someone (good or bad). I used to have a habit of constantly checking to see if my cell was on, until I got my sweet sweet flip-phone.
5- I have sort of half-assed followed Danny Elfman's career since I was a kid and Oingo Boingo was "big". I liked his name when I first heard it and I remember him looking kinda nice crazy and red-headed. Then I started seeing his name on films. When I bought PeeWee's Big Adventure on DVD and heard his commentary, a lot of things fell into place.
Other careers I've followed/cheered on: Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, and Mark Mothersbaugh.
Okay..so now I pick people to tag?
black mana if he ever blogs again.
eeners who is the only person with a blog who's likely to even see this post.
You're it!
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Water in the booth
Okay...two thoughts on this film:
a- go. It's an important movie that I think everyone should see.
b- I will do a jig the day it leaves our theater.
Water is one of the most beautiful and thought provoking movies that I've seen come through the theater in a long time. It is also absolutely gut-wrenching in parts and I can't take it now that I've played it 5 times.
Set in the late 30s, it's a story of Hindu widows and the treatment they receive in a society that regards them as unlucky and unwanted due to ancient texts outlining how a widow should be treated and how she should live her life from the point of her husband's death on. It may have been set in 1938, but it alludes to the problem still facing some women in India today.
These women, no longer welcome by their own or their husbands' families, are sent to live together in an ashram and essentially fend for themselves, sometimes through degrading means....if ya get what I'm saying.
Also, some of these widows are still little girls because of marriages arranged early on and whichever other traditions get a 7 year-old married without even meeting her husband.
So..that's basically the background.
Seriously, great movie.
However, everyone is an absolute wreck afterwards. I've seen five sets of audiences come out of that theatre like they've just gone through a tragic experience. And I've come down from the booth feeling the same way. And you should feel that way...it is a tragic story.
But one of my favourite things about this film is its (what I think was) deliberate setting in a time in which India was facing many changes. Truthfully, I don't know much about Gandhi other than the very basics, so it never occured to me how conflicted the people must have been when he was doing so much good and making so much sense, while at the same time challenging the practices and customs that were so deeply part of Indian society.
The response of some characters to that conflict made the film richer for me.
At times, it can get a little sentimental. I didn't really notice it until about the 3rd time I played it, though...and, I think because it's a foreign film about things foreign to me I found it easier to forgive. Besides, really, with the subject matter, how do you not cross the line into sentimentality at times? The love interest storyline is what I'm talking about here. The guy, from the parts I saw, is so impossibly sweet and gentle and you knew what he wanted would be doomed that, if I were watching any other movie I would have been turned off. Somehow, though, he just made me teary everytime I saw him.
The ending, though, is where all the character-makes-an-inner-discovery-and-does-what-she-can-to-save-what's-left action is and that's when I have to rub those sandpaper-like brown paper towels (that's all we've got in the booth) together so that they'd be soft enough to suck up the tears. Like, not little well up in the eyes tears but full flowing streams down cheeks tears.
So, if you see it...bring kleenex. With aloe, if you can.
I rate how much I like movies by how much I watch of them. I saw about 90% of this one...so, i think it's pretty good. Content makes it a must see.
a- go. It's an important movie that I think everyone should see.
b- I will do a jig the day it leaves our theater.
Water is one of the most beautiful and thought provoking movies that I've seen come through the theater in a long time. It is also absolutely gut-wrenching in parts and I can't take it now that I've played it 5 times.
Set in the late 30s, it's a story of Hindu widows and the treatment they receive in a society that regards them as unlucky and unwanted due to ancient texts outlining how a widow should be treated and how she should live her life from the point of her husband's death on. It may have been set in 1938, but it alludes to the problem still facing some women in India today.
These women, no longer welcome by their own or their husbands' families, are sent to live together in an ashram and essentially fend for themselves, sometimes through degrading means....if ya get what I'm saying.
Also, some of these widows are still little girls because of marriages arranged early on and whichever other traditions get a 7 year-old married without even meeting her husband.
So..that's basically the background.
Seriously, great movie.
However, everyone is an absolute wreck afterwards. I've seen five sets of audiences come out of that theatre like they've just gone through a tragic experience. And I've come down from the booth feeling the same way. And you should feel that way...it is a tragic story.
But one of my favourite things about this film is its (what I think was) deliberate setting in a time in which India was facing many changes. Truthfully, I don't know much about Gandhi other than the very basics, so it never occured to me how conflicted the people must have been when he was doing so much good and making so much sense, while at the same time challenging the practices and customs that were so deeply part of Indian society.
The response of some characters to that conflict made the film richer for me.
At times, it can get a little sentimental. I didn't really notice it until about the 3rd time I played it, though...and, I think because it's a foreign film about things foreign to me I found it easier to forgive. Besides, really, with the subject matter, how do you not cross the line into sentimentality at times? The love interest storyline is what I'm talking about here. The guy, from the parts I saw, is so impossibly sweet and gentle and you knew what he wanted would be doomed that, if I were watching any other movie I would have been turned off. Somehow, though, he just made me teary everytime I saw him.
The ending, though, is where all the character-makes-an-inner-discovery-and-does-what-she-can-to-save-what's-left action is and that's when I have to rub those sandpaper-like brown paper towels (that's all we've got in the booth) together so that they'd be soft enough to suck up the tears. Like, not little well up in the eyes tears but full flowing streams down cheeks tears.
So, if you see it...bring kleenex. With aloe, if you can.
I rate how much I like movies by how much I watch of them. I saw about 90% of this one...so, i think it's pretty good. Content makes it a must see.
from the booth...
I'm posting this mainly just to remind myself and yes, I am too lazy to get a pen.
When I got back from the theatre tonight, BF made a joke about me doing 'partial' movie reviews on my blog
like, partial because I never really manage to sit through an entire film when I'm working. I usually catch as many bits and pieces as I can until I've seen the whole thing...and that's if it's good.
So...joke's on him because I think that's a good idea and i'm a-gunna do it.
ha!
freak bitch
When I got back from the theatre tonight, BF made a joke about me doing 'partial' movie reviews on my blog
like, partial because I never really manage to sit through an entire film when I'm working. I usually catch as many bits and pieces as I can until I've seen the whole thing...and that's if it's good.
So...joke's on him because I think that's a good idea and i'm a-gunna do it.
ha!
freak bitch
Monday, January 02, 2006
well, lemme tell ya
I'm drinking red wine (for 'red wine' read 'truth serum')...so, what to do next but blog?
though...all the beautifully put phrases that have been floating through my head all day have disappeared....
eff.
Xmas came and went.
New Year's eve and day came and went.
*shrug*
I'm hesitant to 'recap' or anything...2005 was a twisty-turny year for me
I did a 'friend overhaul'
I felt betrayed...alot
but I also found out that nothing's perfect...bittersweet, lamegood, fucktard...
I moved into an apartment I hate with a man I love
I started working part time and going to school full time
I had a pretty frantic and pretty rewarding semester
I, for the first time in years, saw a project from beginning to completion with a real sense of accomplishment
I was gonna start knitting again, but I can't find my durn needles
I learned that even if you spend a semester doing stuff you did while you were doing your degree...you still don't know what you want to be when you grow up
I suffered, and still currently suffer, from one of the biggest bouts of self doubt I've ever had
and if I get drunker, I may whine about that, too.
so..when 2005 rolled away last night and 2006 crawled in...it met me with a nod and I showed it where it sits
I plied it with liquor so that it might be nice...but then I think I just got drunk and started bitching about it's younger brother
I got more gift certificates than I can possibly use...that's a lie. I'll use them. So back off.
Xmas was kinda weird. Xmas eve is a P-tradition in which the family gets together and shows each other how weird they've gotten over the past year. Award this year goes to cousin S because she's obviously worked very hard on her pathological lying. I sat wide eyed as she spun tales of complete and utter horseshit whilst trying to give my bf the best view of her cleavage as she possibly could. Atta girl. And she's only 24.
I get a smaller prize for not laughing while my mother punctuated each fantastic fabrication with a kick under the table.
Boxing day was at the farm with my dad and his gf. Lots of tea (damn, LOTS of tea), lots of laughing, lots of pigeons, lots of dogs.
My dad has peacocks.
And his toilet works, so I didn't have to pee behind the chicken coop.
Awesome.
Happy frickin' New Year
though...all the beautifully put phrases that have been floating through my head all day have disappeared....
eff.
Xmas came and went.
New Year's eve and day came and went.
*shrug*
I'm hesitant to 'recap' or anything...2005 was a twisty-turny year for me
I did a 'friend overhaul'
I felt betrayed...alot
but I also found out that nothing's perfect...bittersweet, lamegood, fucktard...
I moved into an apartment I hate with a man I love
I started working part time and going to school full time
I had a pretty frantic and pretty rewarding semester
I, for the first time in years, saw a project from beginning to completion with a real sense of accomplishment
I was gonna start knitting again, but I can't find my durn needles
I learned that even if you spend a semester doing stuff you did while you were doing your degree...you still don't know what you want to be when you grow up
I suffered, and still currently suffer, from one of the biggest bouts of self doubt I've ever had
and if I get drunker, I may whine about that, too.
so..when 2005 rolled away last night and 2006 crawled in...it met me with a nod and I showed it where it sits
I plied it with liquor so that it might be nice...but then I think I just got drunk and started bitching about it's younger brother
I got more gift certificates than I can possibly use...that's a lie. I'll use them. So back off.
Xmas was kinda weird. Xmas eve is a P-tradition in which the family gets together and shows each other how weird they've gotten over the past year. Award this year goes to cousin S because she's obviously worked very hard on her pathological lying. I sat wide eyed as she spun tales of complete and utter horseshit whilst trying to give my bf the best view of her cleavage as she possibly could. Atta girl. And she's only 24.
I get a smaller prize for not laughing while my mother punctuated each fantastic fabrication with a kick under the table.
Boxing day was at the farm with my dad and his gf. Lots of tea (damn, LOTS of tea), lots of laughing, lots of pigeons, lots of dogs.
My dad has peacocks.
And his toilet works, so I didn't have to pee behind the chicken coop.
Awesome.
Happy frickin' New Year
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
finished (as in a- my semester and b- the state of my being)
It is freaking cold in our apartment....for various reasons...some acceptable, some I bitch about...whatever...
anyway, so, any given evening, you can catch me in full body longjohns....and that's what I usually sleep in...
the type with the trap door
Last night I finished my paper, which means I finished everything I needed in order to end this semester...
w00t
...heheheh...anyway...
so, I ran up to the university last night to hand in my paper way before the 9 AM deadline today. 'Cept everything was closed.
On the way home, paper still in my hand, I stopped by the liquorstore and bought a bottle of wine.
BF wasn't feeling well, so he was taking a nap when I got back, so I settled in by pouring a glass and playing WoW.
I got drunk and sobered up by the time he awoke. We played for a little while together then I went to bed to get an early start so I could run up to the uni before work.
couldn't sleep...couldn't sleep...couldn't sleep...woke up early...
so, I'm tired, right? But I was too elated to feel it.
trained it to the uni and when I got there it was quiet...no one about. Not a peep.
so...I debated over: a- shoving my assignment in the slot in the main office door...which would entail a plastic envelope full of stuff and three books I used as references...then imagined someone tripping over the old worn out grammars I used...
or b- hanging my assignment (with all accessories) on the doorknob of her office because I already had it in a plastic bag in case that was my best option...
forward thinking
I picked b...and got back on the train towards downtown so I could go to work. Along the way I imagined every scenario that could possibly prevent the connection between my prof and the assignment hanging on her door....up to and including the thought that since 9/11, maybe strange packages hanging on doors are disposed of by a bomb squad in a foamy mess.
I was tired.
But...I emailed her and she emailed me back saying she got it and to have a good holiday. Thank god. Crisis averted. And now I'm free...and I feel grrreat!
oh...yeah...but I forgot to mention that last night I had a dream that I was sitting in class and for some reason said prof asked me to write something on the board but I refused because I looked down and realized I was wearing my longjohns with the trap door...
hahaha...what a typical 'school dream'...
anyway, so, any given evening, you can catch me in full body longjohns....and that's what I usually sleep in...
the type with the trap door
Last night I finished my paper, which means I finished everything I needed in order to end this semester...
w00t
...heheheh...anyway...
so, I ran up to the university last night to hand in my paper way before the 9 AM deadline today. 'Cept everything was closed.
On the way home, paper still in my hand, I stopped by the liquorstore and bought a bottle of wine.
BF wasn't feeling well, so he was taking a nap when I got back, so I settled in by pouring a glass and playing WoW.
I got drunk and sobered up by the time he awoke. We played for a little while together then I went to bed to get an early start so I could run up to the uni before work.
couldn't sleep...couldn't sleep...couldn't sleep...woke up early...
so, I'm tired, right? But I was too elated to feel it.
trained it to the uni and when I got there it was quiet...no one about. Not a peep.
so...I debated over: a- shoving my assignment in the slot in the main office door...which would entail a plastic envelope full of stuff and three books I used as references...then imagined someone tripping over the old worn out grammars I used...
or b- hanging my assignment (with all accessories) on the doorknob of her office because I already had it in a plastic bag in case that was my best option...
forward thinking
I picked b...and got back on the train towards downtown so I could go to work. Along the way I imagined every scenario that could possibly prevent the connection between my prof and the assignment hanging on her door....up to and including the thought that since 9/11, maybe strange packages hanging on doors are disposed of by a bomb squad in a foamy mess.
I was tired.
But...I emailed her and she emailed me back saying she got it and to have a good holiday. Thank god. Crisis averted. And now I'm free...and I feel grrreat!
oh...yeah...but I forgot to mention that last night I had a dream that I was sitting in class and for some reason said prof asked me to write something on the board but I refused because I looked down and realized I was wearing my longjohns with the trap door...
hahaha...what a typical 'school dream'...
Friday, December 16, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
these days
I found this guy's blog and started clicking on links. It's like a goldmine of animators and illustrators and they are all incredible.
How I wish I could draw.
Anyway...since all I can think about right now is myself, this'll be another post about me.
I wrote an exam this morning and was kinda confident about most of it, though it was hard but when I came out and started talking to some people from my class...well...I think I got one wrong.
Damn.
Because if you know you got one wrong...how many don't you know you got wrong?
But...anyway...I went for lunch with bf and then came home and slept for 2 hours because I'm exhausted and my prof also said that we could have until the 19th to hand in our 15 pg paper.
I almost leapt up and kissed her right on the lips.
Then I thought I dreamt it, so I had to ask around after the exam. Then I had no pants on. And, like, I was in the social science building but it looked like my elementary school.
So...in just a few more days I can stop waking up with fear gripping my belly over what I have to accomplish that day for my life not to suck.
That's gonna be sweet.
How I wish I could draw.
Anyway...since all I can think about right now is myself, this'll be another post about me.
I wrote an exam this morning and was kinda confident about most of it, though it was hard but when I came out and started talking to some people from my class...well...I think I got one wrong.
Damn.
Because if you know you got one wrong...how many don't you know you got wrong?
But...anyway...I went for lunch with bf and then came home and slept for 2 hours because I'm exhausted and my prof also said that we could have until the 19th to hand in our 15 pg paper.
I almost leapt up and kissed her right on the lips.
Then I thought I dreamt it, so I had to ask around after the exam. Then I had no pants on. And, like, I was in the social science building but it looked like my elementary school.
So...in just a few more days I can stop waking up with fear gripping my belly over what I have to accomplish that day for my life not to suck.
That's gonna be sweet.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
me?
I just think that butterfly nets are the funniest accessory out there...
that doesn't really look like Chris at all.
but this is SO TOTALLY what I'm wearing right now.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
going mental
7 days left
1 - final exam
1 - take home final
1 - 15pg paper
...to go...
yeah...heh...heh
eff
anyway...I live above a restaurant, right? So, they've taken to playing Xmas music.
I hate Xmas music.
I'm not a Scrooge...I don't hate Xmas or anything...it's okay.
But I can't STAND Xmas music and I especially can't stand those little toys that you press an effing button and then it plays a cute little christmas carrol as if the dog, snowman, santa, elf, construction worker, police man, leather guy, native indian, or sailor is singing it themselves and they've got one of those in the mailroom at work and me and one of the women who work there are going to sneak in there and bash it into smithereens with a 3-hole punch if they continue to play it and laugh as though it was the fucking cutest thing they've ever seen since the birth of their hare-lipped, club footed, bow legged, bowl hair cutted grandchildren.
anyway...
1 - final exam
1 - take home final
1 - 15pg paper
...to go...
yeah...heh...heh
eff
anyway...I live above a restaurant, right? So, they've taken to playing Xmas music.
I hate Xmas music.
I'm not a Scrooge...I don't hate Xmas or anything...it's okay.
But I can't STAND Xmas music and I especially can't stand those little toys that you press an effing button and then it plays a cute little christmas carrol as if the dog, snowman, santa, elf, construction worker, police man, leather guy, native indian, or sailor is singing it themselves and they've got one of those in the mailroom at work and me and one of the women who work there are going to sneak in there and bash it into smithereens with a 3-hole punch if they continue to play it and laugh as though it was the fucking cutest thing they've ever seen since the birth of their hare-lipped, club footed, bow legged, bowl hair cutted grandchildren.
anyway...
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Sunday, December 04, 2005
blog stats
someone got to my blog by googling the words:
hate "stuart mclean" voice
hahahahahaha
well, i certainly don't hate stuart mclean's voice, and if you're familiar with stuart mclean and the vinyl cafe then check out his blog. Bet you can't read it without hearing his voice.
it's better that way.
i'm gonna try that technique on my text books.
hate "stuart mclean" voice
hahahahahaha
well, i certainly don't hate stuart mclean's voice, and if you're familiar with stuart mclean and the vinyl cafe then check out his blog. Bet you can't read it without hearing his voice.
it's better that way.
i'm gonna try that technique on my text books.
an ode to tea
you google peppermint tea, and you get that picture. I probably shoulda used one without the 'for promotional use only' tag...but I think I like it more that way
it's a no caps kinda day
i've got two papers, a take home exam and a regular ol' final exam within the next two weeks.
yesterday was a very demanding day and i think i stressed so terribly that i've probably slept about a whole half day since...not to mention eat 2/3rds of the house.
and now i've got a headache and i feel nauseous.
this peppermint tea in front of me is saving my life.
i'm trying so hard to work but i keep flitting from one assingment to another so that the total work i've managed to get done equals bupkis.
i just watched arrested development for the first time and a/ it's totally funny and b/ the david cross character (who is hillarious, btw) is an ex-psycholinguist from MIT that is super weird and flakey and I thought, 'jesus...when it comes to making fun of people, are linguists up for grabs, too?'
two of my fave profs: one's a psycholinguist and the other is straight outta MIT, yo.
i went to go see the grad advisor for our department the other day. i can't stop going over the potential stupid things i said during our meeting. i fixate on my stupidity and akwardness, like, lots...i'm gonna make someone a great grad student one day. when i went to visit him, i guess i expected (don't know why) him to give me a run down of all the programs i could get into with a BA in linguistics, but all we talked about were MAs in linguistics. easy now. i gots to do more research but i know i would love to do a masters in linguistics.
eff
that's gonna get me nowhere
besides, it's been so long. he asked what discipline i'd like to get involved in...uh. dunno. syntax is nice. i like phonetics.
dork <---- me
it's a no caps kinda day
i've got two papers, a take home exam and a regular ol' final exam within the next two weeks.
yesterday was a very demanding day and i think i stressed so terribly that i've probably slept about a whole half day since...not to mention eat 2/3rds of the house.
and now i've got a headache and i feel nauseous.
this peppermint tea in front of me is saving my life.
i'm trying so hard to work but i keep flitting from one assingment to another so that the total work i've managed to get done equals bupkis.
i just watched arrested development for the first time and a/ it's totally funny and b/ the david cross character (who is hillarious, btw) is an ex-psycholinguist from MIT that is super weird and flakey and I thought, 'jesus...when it comes to making fun of people, are linguists up for grabs, too?'
two of my fave profs: one's a psycholinguist and the other is straight outta MIT, yo.
i went to go see the grad advisor for our department the other day. i can't stop going over the potential stupid things i said during our meeting. i fixate on my stupidity and akwardness, like, lots...i'm gonna make someone a great grad student one day. when i went to visit him, i guess i expected (don't know why) him to give me a run down of all the programs i could get into with a BA in linguistics, but all we talked about were MAs in linguistics. easy now. i gots to do more research but i know i would love to do a masters in linguistics.
eff
that's gonna get me nowhere
besides, it's been so long. he asked what discipline i'd like to get involved in...uh. dunno. syntax is nice. i like phonetics.
dork <---- me
Thursday, December 01, 2005
GQ Man of the Year
Now, really...I don't give a rat's ass about GQ or its Man of the Year.
But I'm so sick of Jennifer Aniston and everyone's bullshit pity and happiness over watching her 'get back on her feet'.
I'm not going to go into the Brad, Angelina and Jennifer thing here. Gawd. Go to any supermarket and all the research is right in front of you.
And after you read all that...we still have no idea what really happened. Who cares? Its between them.
But what exactly is important if you're to be a GQ Man of the Year? When your partners in that prize are Vince Vaughn and 50 cent, probably not much...but what I would like to bring up is that JA is the first female 'Man' of the Year because she "exhibited a lot of poise, unbelievable amount of grace and good humor this year."
So...because she didn't pull a Medea on us that she's deserving of the 'Man' of the Year award?
"Heck, Jenny-poo...the way you handled that whole marriage thing...that was mighty manly of ya..."
and a hearty slap on the back
I understand that the media must be a total bitch to deal with...really, I do. But, after the wound healed a bit (and after public interest into how she was doing grew), who released her story in an exclusive to Vanity Fair that flew off the shelves?
They had a harder time keeping the contents of that interview secret than they did a couple of months previous revealing who Deep Throat was.
Now...another point. What the eff is she doing on the cover accepting the honour of "Man of the Year" with her shirt off like she's in a Maxim spread? Take your shirt of for photoshoots, by all means...but don't you think it's a little tacky when the other Men of the Year get to keep their shirts on?
pfft...Man of the Year. She gets it by keeping her cool when her husband leaves her. Irony is that Angelina Jolie was only recognized by the effing UN for all the goodwill work she's done.
She gets called a 'homewrecker'.
But I'm so sick of Jennifer Aniston and everyone's bullshit pity and happiness over watching her 'get back on her feet'.
I'm not going to go into the Brad, Angelina and Jennifer thing here. Gawd. Go to any supermarket and all the research is right in front of you.
And after you read all that...we still have no idea what really happened. Who cares? Its between them.
But what exactly is important if you're to be a GQ Man of the Year? When your partners in that prize are Vince Vaughn and 50 cent, probably not much...but what I would like to bring up is that JA is the first female 'Man' of the Year because she "exhibited a lot of poise, unbelievable amount of grace and good humor this year."
So...because she didn't pull a Medea on us that she's deserving of the 'Man' of the Year award?
"Heck, Jenny-poo...the way you handled that whole marriage thing...that was mighty manly of ya..."
and a hearty slap on the back
I understand that the media must be a total bitch to deal with...really, I do. But, after the wound healed a bit (and after public interest into how she was doing grew), who released her story in an exclusive to Vanity Fair that flew off the shelves?
They had a harder time keeping the contents of that interview secret than they did a couple of months previous revealing who Deep Throat was.
Now...another point. What the eff is she doing on the cover accepting the honour of "Man of the Year" with her shirt off like she's in a Maxim spread? Take your shirt of for photoshoots, by all means...but don't you think it's a little tacky when the other Men of the Year get to keep their shirts on?
pfft...Man of the Year. She gets it by keeping her cool when her husband leaves her. Irony is that Angelina Jolie was only recognized by the effing UN for all the goodwill work she's done.
She gets called a 'homewrecker'.
nice
hollabacknyc
With the advent of cell phones that can take pics (of which I still am stubbornly refusing to buy) come great ideas for websites...like this.
I think they'll allow non-nyc content.
Anyway, next time you get harrassed by someone on the street, quietly snap a photo of the creep and post it. They deserve to at least have some small part of fame for it.
But be careful...remember, you can't really predict what a complete asshole will do.
With the advent of cell phones that can take pics (of which I still am stubbornly refusing to buy) come great ideas for websites...like this.
I think they'll allow non-nyc content.
Anyway, next time you get harrassed by someone on the street, quietly snap a photo of the creep and post it. They deserve to at least have some small part of fame for it.
But be careful...remember, you can't really predict what a complete asshole will do.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Finally
pandora.com
...a way to find new artists I might like without having to actually tell someone I don't trust their abilities to guide me...
no offense
I just don't trust you and don't want to put in the effort to prove you wrong
...a way to find new artists I might like without having to actually tell someone I don't trust their abilities to guide me...
no offense
I just don't trust you and don't want to put in the effort to prove you wrong
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