Pirates are Cool.

Captured bits of life... Pirates at no extra cost. Arrrg. Also cool: Zombies, Aliens, Ninjas, Dinosaurs, Vikings, the Noble River Horse, the Sinister Octopi, Robots and Kittens.

Sunday, January 29, 2006


I think Ursulon would be a good name for an alien.
He would definitely have lots of obvious connections with the Polar Bear.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

I'm more hardcore

I just learned that Barn Owl (That'd be J-Bo's band) is number 10 on the U of T radio station downtown. Many well deserved congradulations. That lands them four places above The Ghost Is Dancing. A well deserved victory, since no matter how hard The Ghost is Dancing tries, they just can't be The Arcade Fire. They even tried stealing the music and writing their own words, and not even that worked. (ie - the ghost is dancing sucks and I think they might be J-Bo's nemesis)

Anyway, I'd just like to point out that I was playing Barn Owl on Drop-D radio long before they even released an awesome EP called "Barn Owl Plays a Wooden Hall Show."

This proves that I am way more hardcore than those St. George jerks.


Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Conservative Minority

The True face of Mr. Twenty-Two:

Watch your brains. Stephen Harper will eat them.

Monday, January 23, 2006

My election result predictions:

Zombie for Prime Minister! New Conservative Party slogan: "...Brains..."

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


Maybe "Being is waiting, and we wait for being" is profound in relation to Waiting for Godot because, at it's core, Waiting for Godot means nothing because it is a play about searching for meaning and that phrse means nothing and merely describes the process of finding meaning. What the heck is Godot anyway?
"There is no meaning" ... imagine, an english teacher telling you that.

"Being is waiting, and we wait for being"

That's how Professor Leonard ended his lecture on Waiting for Godot this morning. In a sense it's almost hypocritical, since he lectures about words that means nothing all the time, and that statement, while looking incrediblly profound, isn't really because it means almost nothing. Its an infite regress, we wait to be and we are, because we are waiting to be... and so on.
I just find it interesting to be back in a class with Professor Leonard professing. This man isn't a good lecturer because he's funny or interesting or that he never says "um"... in fact, he never even slows down. He's living the twentieth century dream of just talking - his lectures are almost a stream of consciousness, but that is a digression from my point. Professor Leonard is a good professor because he articulates clearly, but in an engaging way, exactly what you have been feeling and thinking your whole life without being able to articulate it. His theories about the nature of the twentieth century have to be right, because every wednesday morning, he makes me challenge the society I live in. And it is through that challenge that I can understand how we exist and intergrate myself without losing my identity. Maybe. I don't know. And that, right there, is the point of the course. I think. Maybe. Incertitude takes over!
Long story short, this class is entertaining and relevant. And it makes me think, which is more than can be said about other classes. Thus, if I could give my professors grades, I'd give Professor Leonard an A+ because, in three hours of sitting there, I don't get bored. Maybe it's because I wasn't waiting for it to end, so I wasn't really there at all....

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Come sail away

Man, in retrospect, Styx is really bad.


(But ever so enjoyable.)

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Every so often

Every once in a while I get this creeping feeling that doesn't go away until I buy a Tragically Hip album. So, the other day, I was feeling some creeping and Trouble at the Henhouse was only ten bucks, so with ten less bucks in my pocket (okay, thirty-four and a half less bucks in my pocket - I bought The Police and The Strokes, too) I was the proud owner of yet one more The Tragically Hip album.

And of course, everytime I buy a The Hip album, I listen to it, and then remember why they are a much-loved Canadian band, and then I remember that Gordon Downie is a genius poet and that, yes, once when I felt the creep, I bought his first solo album instead of a Hip album.

Long story short, Vancouver Divorce is one of the best songs ever. Pretty good musically, but Gordon Downie is probably one of the best contemporary poets to read (and in this case, listen to). I mean, damn, what a good poem/song. I recommend it fully. It's on the album Coke Machine Glow.

Saturday, January 07, 2006


I've come to the conclusion that the best time of the day to do your serious thinking is while you're brushing your teeth. Sometimes, you can solve mysteries.

Friday, January 06, 2006

It'd be awesome

I want to write famous children's fantasy novels. I could be like C.S. Lewis or Phillip Pullman or J.K. Rowling - I coudl write enteire series of novels around a certain world or place or character and they would be full of adventure and spirit and, best of all, they would be famous and I could make lots of people happy.

Yup, It'd be awesome.

Now all I need is some sort of story.

Pea soup fog - go back to start

When my family was young we used to play a lot of board games. One of the bedrooms in our first house used to be a kitchen. I have fond memories of playing the Game of Life in that room. We didn't ever really play it quite right, and we didn't even have all the pieces, but it was still fun. My sister Meaghan had a bad habbit of landing on the square that said "Pea soup fog - go back to start." Oh how she hated that pea soup fog...

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

R.I.P. Ice Fortress

The cruel hand of inevitability causes me greif!

There has been an unseasably warm end to the month of december. The ice fotress has melted. Ah, lamentable temperatures of two degrees celsuis! I spurn thee!

Monday, January 02, 2006

Twenty Aught Six

You know how there are different kinds of hangover? I think I discovered a new one yesterday, on January 1st. I call it the Lager Auger. It felt sort of like my insides were being augered, and since i had been drinking Bruce County Lager the night before, well, is all made sense. Plus it rhmyed.

The new years party this year was exactly what it needed to be. It was our group of friends from high school, hanging out in the basement with a few younger siblings here and there. We had guitars and a drum and alcohol and our greatest traditions, and probably most importantly, we had fun. Some people played Duck Hunt on the NES I hooked up for the evening. Some people talked and caught up with people they hadn't seen ina year. Other's still picked up those guitars and played some stuff. The drums were played with an incredible fervour, and the drum jam turned awesome when we started beating James in the head as part of the beat. Motman swam down the stairs as is his annual perogative. Even E-dot over-indulged in the spirits and earned himself a puke name at long last. People even stayed to help clean, and it only took about fifteen minutes. Good times all around.

Here's to a new year!