They Doth Protest Too Much

I was a little sickened when I heard the news as I so often am. Forgive them, Lord they know not what they do. ...Screw it. Nail them to the wall because they don't have a clue what they are doing.

I'll be honest. I'm not well informed about all this G-8 and G-20 stuff, either. I know it's a bunch of the world's political bigwigs hamming it up for the camera's and pretending they have a clue about how to fix the world. I know they talk money and whether they should give it or spend it or keep it or charge it. I know they discuss the threat of terrorism and wars and poverty. Horseshoes and hand grenades. While I may not agree with the conclusions they come to, I also realize they won't come to many conclusions. Nor will they hold to them. Nor is a conspiracy for a new world order to crush us all like the ants we are. (Democracy is just tyranny where more people have less power).

For the billion plus dollars spent to host this international shindig, we could have done a lot to solve all those aforementioned problems (even more with the money wasted on the Olympics). One reported commented that for something like $4000 we could have got everyone involved a smart phone and and a data plan and they could have video conferenced from home.

I can't say I was surprised when I heard there was rioting. I more or less expected it. But I was pretty disgusted with the smashed windows and police cars set on fire. It's not because I don't believe in free speech or in protesting. It's because I don't believe these so called protesters were saying anything. I think this was simply an excuse to perpetrate violence and get away with it claiming mob mentality. "One protester said she was marching for no cause in particular." (1) Protesting for the sake of uniformed protesting. The sixties are rolling in their grave.

Really, when you advocate "Black Bloc" tactics like this, you essentially make yourself a non-entity in the protesting world. (Yes people came prepared for rioting in vinegar soaked black clothing and masks, carrying weapons and so don't give me any mob mentality bullshit). Even if you had message, it's buried by your own actions and no one will take you seriously. This is the age after Gandhi, after all. Sit-ins and hunger strikes and patiently beating a drum and just generally being a Buddhist monk go a lot further than baggies of urine and empty beer bottles.

For those that call this anarchy... this isn't anarchy. Anarchy is the belief in peaceful self government, the idea that people can speak, act and think for themselves with a bureaucracy (the Man) running the show. Idealistic as it may be, evidently that movement has a long way to go before we can consider it since I don't see a whole lot of self control on the streets of Toronto right now. I'm not exactly what you would call a patriot. But I thought as Canadians we were better than this.

(1) Toronto Sun, June 27th, 2010. Pg 4.

Douche on the Street #15

"The sign says 'don't walk!'" she shouts as she cuts the corner and nearly clips me as she makes a left turn onto a one way street. The light said walk when I started walking and turned to a ominous looking flashing red hand as I was half way across.

When I went to driving school, I was taught that pedestrians ALWAYS have the right of way. Which is not to say pedestrians have the right to run out into the middle of traffic but if they do and you hit them with your car, you've got a problem. In any case, my crossing was perfectly legal.

"What's this sign say?" I shouted back with my middle finger extended.

Because you got your license from a crackerjack box and have zero esteem for anyone but your SUV, you are a douche.

Public Dysfunction

Turns out Robert Munsch is addicted to cocaine and alcohol. I'm not surprised.

Dear Canadian Taxpayers

Dear Canadian Taxpayers,

Let's see you do better.

Sincerely,
Jim Flaherty, Minister of Finance

Foxx Wilder Esquire

This month's issue of Esquire magazine is entitled the "Women (The Issue)." In it, there is a survey of some 9617 who responded to an online poll. I'd like to make a note of a few of the questions. Questions that have plagued mankind from the dawn of time. Questions that have plagued man since the sexual revolution.

Question 5: Do you believe in God?
Respondents: 61% Yes, 39% No
A little at odds with the last stats I heard of America at large a few years ago, skewed by about 8% but Ok. Close enough. Maybe women are believers more than men.

Question 10: Do you believe in evolution?
Survey says: 89% Yes, 11% No
A little at odds with question five, don't you think? I guess God didn't create man; He created ape. Coincidentally (or maybe not) this question got the exact same response as "Do you support gay marriage?"

Question 17: The best looking man in America is:
Response: Johnny Depp 29%, George Clooney 28%, Jon Hamm 21%, Brad Pitt 12%, and a few unnotable sparkling teenagers and a president.
Who the hell is Jon Hamm? And how did he beat out Brad Pitt? Granted, bearded Pitt looks like he changes your oil and tries to sell you headlight fluid, but he graces the cover of every celebrity gossip magazine every week. And who the hell is Jon Hamm?

Question 28: Have you ever had an affair?
Respondents: Yes 24%, No 76%
Yet half of you claim you've been cheated on. I don't buy it. I think either you've been cheated on less or some of you are lying about doing the cheating. Honestly.

Question 29: If you knew you wouldn't be caught, would you cheat?
Answers: Yes 16%, No 84%
Meaning for 8% of you, getting caught was the primary attraction? Yes, do the math, 24% say they've had an affair, but only 16% say they would have an affair. Ahem.

Lastly, question 49: On average, how many dates do you go on before you offer to pay for dinner?
Response: 51% on first date, 32% on 2nd or 3rd date, 7% on 4th to 6th date, 2% after the 6th date, 7% say "a man should always pay for me."
So 51% are civilized and 7% are still living in 1947.

Pwn Stars

There is this reality TV show on the History Channel called Pawn Stars. Basically, it captures the daily routine of a pawn shop in Vegas.

On one particular episode, a woman comes in trying to sell a small battle axe. Interviewed alone, she says "I think this is a 15th century battle axe. I think it is a 15th century battle axe because I'm a smart enough person to look at it and know." Wow.

But wait. It gets better.

"I think it's from an Asian country (meaning a southeast Asian country). I think it's from the 15th century because I see similar ones on the internet and in those movies they make these days, they always have these types of axes." Wow. Great research. The internet and movies. Damn, and here I wasted my time and money on university when I could have couch surfed.

Now I'm no expert on weapons but I could have told you it wasn't southeast Asian. I also could tell you that since it wasn't rusted to virtually nothing, it wasn't from the 15th century. Having the expert come in, sure enough, it's Indian from the early 19th century. So much for the University of Couch.

Chicken Sandwich

Normal chicken sandwich: bread, lettuce, tomato, chicken, sauce, bread.

Fast food chicken burger: kaiser roll, lettuce, tomato, bacon, cheese, sauce, kaiser roll, medium coke and medium fries.

Fast food chicken burger the Kentucky way: deep fried battered chicken with 11 herbs and spices, cheese, bacon, another slab of deep fried battered chicken.

This is why America is getting fat. But at least it's getting fat with a party in its mouth.

GSG9

Here's your chicken. Name it. Love it. Grill it up and toss it in a salad.

This is how Germany trains anti-terrorist units.

Nightmare

I was walking through a cobbled square in Europe with Lily when she spotted a pair of young children, a boy and a girl perhaps four or five years old. Lily, the ever lively black and white beagle, broke from my grip and went charging for the little blond girl. She only wanted to play, you understand.

The girl, terrified, produced a whip or strap seemingly from nowhere and proceeded to fend off my abashed dog. The whip struck - the girl was amazingly talented at using a whip for a young child - and slashed a blood red streak across Lily's chest and and down her front paw.

"Nein! Nein! Sie ist... Sie ist sehr freundlich!" I cried, charging through the empty square after my dog. I wrapped my arms around her, protecting her from the vicious assault of the child and she nuzzled into my shoulder with a whine as tears welled in my eyes. Over the child's shoulder I saw the blue cartoon uniform of the dog catcher coming at a good clip with a butterfly net to haul my abused dog off for trial.

I stood and began to run. "Lily, come!" I shouted as I sped down a narrow alley, turned the corner and passed through an arch, headed for the brick wall and it's wrought iron railing. But Lily's injury slowed her down and she couldn't keep up. She hobbled behind me, trying to run on three legs. Her big brown eyes pleaded with me to protect her. She only ever wanted to make friends. But as I reached the wall I fell into bed and woke up with her sleeping peacefully along my leg.

Screw You, Earth!

"Demand action on climate change by joining the largest environmental movement in history. It's as easy as turning off the lights."

1. Demand action of whom? Let's face it, while you and I may turn out the lights for an hour and large companies may make a goodwill gesture of dropping production quotas in their factories for a little while, things will go back to normal at 9:30. No one is held accountable for the energy used today or tomorrow or the next day. Ultimately, my power usage is negligible compared to General Electric's but I'm pretty sure they probably try use as little as possible already since they do have to pay for it.

2. This is not an environmental movement. This is an action. "Save the Trees" is a movement. This is like taking an after dinner nap. You turn the lights out while you're at home during daylight hours, while you're off at work and while you're asleep at night. Your lights are off probably twenty of twenty four hours a day. Extending that by an hour is not a movement.

3. It's as easy as turning off the lights. That's a little too easy. Why? Because turning out the lights does almost nothing. You know how much power it takes to use a light bulb for an hour? Nothing. And why is it that easy? Because even the pot smoking organizers of this little affair realized it would be a lot easier to con people out of an hour of light than to screw them out of their iPods and laptops and TVs.

4. The DJ on the radio this afternoon asked people what they were doing for Earth Hour. One caller said she had all her batteries charged and flashlights and candles ready to go. Already she's defeated the purpose of not using energy.

5. The concept of Earth Hour is to raise awareness of power usage. WE ALL KNOW WE NEED TO CUT OUR POWER USAGE. But we don't do it. Because it's inconvenient.

I remember back in August of 2003, there was a blackout across the eastern seaboard. For the first time I had seen a town completely in the dark. Granted, it was a small town and a friendly sort of place - not the kind of place that would have rioting and looting just because the power was out. But I walked those streets and heard the muffled voices of couples on their porches, hidden in the shadows and muted by the weight of darkness. Candles flickered in windows and steak sizzled on barbecues. The heat permeated everything.

It's not that Earth Hour is a bad idea. It's just a half assed idea. Make it a day long. Make it every week. But one hour a year.... Hold your breath for two seconds and see if the lack of oxygen gives you brain damage.

Happy Birthday Broderick

This guy is Ferris Bueller. Ferris Bueller turns 48 today. And he still looks like this picture taken at around age 22.

A Gentleman of Verona

My first watercolour in... oh... fourteen years. Surprisingly not that bad. I mean, given that it was my first watercolour in fourteen years. It's based on the picture I took in Verona that you can see in the top picture.

As an aside, can you guess where the hostel is? (Hint: hostels are always at the top of large hills).

As another aside, the recent series of paintings I've published here are my first every attempt at using canvas, so it's a learning experience. Not that my paper work is any better.

Untruth in Advertising - Nice and Easy

Dear Clairol,

"Shine" is not a colour.

Foxx vs. Babies

Babies eat, sleep and shit. Foxx eats, sleeps and shits. Babies make cute gurgling noises. Foxx can engage you in deep thought provoking and entertaining conversation. Babies do nothing else. Foxx can answer questions, run (albeit not very quickly), make jokes, make silly faces, and has a number of talents that can be exploited. Babies command much more fuss from women than Foxx. Conclusion: women want a gibbering idiot that's cute. Victory: babies.

Not Even Close to Alice

I'll preface this by saying, as a companion piece to Alice in Wonderland, Alice in Wonderland is complete shite. As a stand alone film, it's... ok... I guess. I should also say that I am a fan of the book. And that the movie is NOT an adaptation of the book.

The movie picks up something like thirteen years after the events of the book. Most of the characters make a return and many of the events of the book are re-enacted with the flimsy cover of "you'd think she would remember this from the first time around." The acting is somewhat bland, even Johnny Depp. In many scenes, the extravagant characters like the Mad Hatter and the Red Queen are overshadowed by the CGI White Rabbit and the caterpillar. Visually, it is... artful. Not really my cup of tea. But it's a Tim Burton film and you get about what you'd expect from a Tim Burton film. It's dark. It's fantastical. It's a little dreary. It's puts too much emphasis on the appearance of the characters to carry it forward and not enough on the character of the characters. This is not the Disney cartoon of decades ago. If you're a fan of the book, that cartoon is probably much more in your line.

And I suppose that is my issue with this movie. The book had no real direction but was always moving. It was a whimsical tale made up on the spot to entertain a child and became ingrained in the public consciousness for its combination of logic and absurdity. None of that, nor Carroll's wit or word play survive to make it onto celluloid. Or whatever they use these days. The many in-depth interpretations of his work that make the book so (re)readable are nonexistent in the film.

I felt a little bad for the fan girls who showed up in Cheshire Cat costumes and Mad Hatter outfits. Anyone that much into the story of Alice - those willing to dress up as the characters and walk around in public - must have been sorely disappointed. And those that weren't are just a bunch of posers.

Undouche #2

Ringo Starr. Ok, so his little episode with an autograph hunting old lady a few months back aside, he was a Beatle. And he doesn't get enough play. Some say he was the least talented Beatle. Maybe. But I've played the Rockband: The Beatles game and he's sure as hell a better drummer than I am. He's got a better voice than me. He wrote some of their most popular songs. Were you a Beatle? No. Neither were the six billion other people in the world (unless you happen to be Ringo or Paul, in which case you'll have to excuse me for a minute while I shout "Holy shit! A Beatle is reading my blog!" even though I'm aware they are no longer Beatles and they have both moved on to do other things yadayadayada). Cut the man some slack. I tip my hat to you, Ringo. You are truly an undouche.

Douche on the Street #14 - You Voted For Him (x2)

One assumes Mr. Dressup or The Friendly Giant could have won a majority but they weren't in the running (and are dead) so we're stuck with Mr. Stephen Harper. While I suppose he's had this coming for awhile, it's his recent actions which has brought him to the forefront tonight. Under Harper's supervision, a change is proposed to the Canadian national anthem, "Oh, Canada." Just because Minister Tony Clement got a letter from a crusty coot of a constituent claiming the song wasn't gender neutral enough. You know what, I'm going to go out on a limb here and actually agree. It's not. It clearly says "sons' command" and not "childrens'" or "sons' and daughters' command." Now to climb back down the tree - I don't care. Nor does anybody else. The song is over a hundred years old. Women couldn't vote back when it was written. But it seems fairly evident the intent of the writer (whichever it was, more on that in a bit) was that it should be inclusive of all of Canada's citizens. Women just didn't happen to be citizens then. Maybe this change is seventy years too late. Maybe it's just too late, period. If you're going to change anything, maybe leave God out of it.

As an aside, it's not like changing the song is anything new. It has gone through a number of changes in the last century. It started out - if I recall - as an instrumental, picked up some French lyrics along the way, got translated to English, had some words changed, had some more words changed, changed a few more words and then got split into various horrible versions to be played every morning over my high school PA system. So I'm not really for or against changing the lyrics because I think it's a silly song and a silly idea to pledge allegiance to a piece of dirt. And now back to pointing fingers.

Mr Harper. In this, your... second term?, you've thrown caution to the wind and forgotten your accountability to the people that employ you. You've prorogued parliament twice. You've evaded questions about the your party's role in the torture of prisoners of war, you've let foreign relations go to hell in a hand basket and then let the hand basket burn up in a sulfurous spate of smoke, attacked your opposition on grounds of corruption and then have the light turned on you, botch the handling of a flu pandemic, and watch the country slide into economic recession along with the rest of the world and pat yourself on the back when it wasn't as bad as it could have been because of economic policies put in place by your predecessors of the redder variety. Then you cast out a few meaningless apologies for things you didn't do, take a paid vacation so you could go watch the Olympics and try to evade accountability by throwing this anthem issue on the bonfire of your ministry. Has it occurred to you, Mr Harper, that you are meant both to guide the country as well as represent it's wishes? In a speech made long ago, before you were king, you showed an inkling of this knowledge. Now some would say, even back then you hated this country and had no right to lead. I disagree. I think back then you knew something more. You sought a better Canada. You wanted to take what you heard the people saying and transform that vision into a reality. Sadly, you were listening to the wrong people - a minority of rich people - instead of the majority of work-a-day schlubs like myself. But your heart was in the right place if not your mind or your tongue. I think I see what you were trying to say way back then. I really do. But then power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. You've led us over a cliff and at the bottom of the cliff was a minefield. Instead of getting us to step carefully, you sing loud and proud and change the lyrics so we don't mind the explosions being set off on either side of us. But you're not singing loudly enough. We still hear the wreckage of our national pride whizzing past our ears.

I don't even know how to wrap this one up. For all the lies... Because you can't... For faking left and going far right... Apologies are empty... Bent over a table... You're just a big fucking douche.

I owe a few caveats to this rant. It's inane to blame Mr Harper for all of Canada's woes or even to think that Canada has a whole lot of woes to begin with. The government is a machine with a million cogs just like a clock or a corporation. The machine does what it was built to do. No one part controls the whole; the spring only works when it is wound.

The leader of the committee to investigate the changing of the lyrics of "Oh, Canada" is none other than my current MP, the honourable Dean del Mastro. When not out vacationing from his job in Ottawa, he likes to sell used cars in Peterborough. Yes, he's a used car salesman. Need I say more?

The article linked makes it seem like it's just one cranky broad in a country of thirty three million who has a problem. Surely it's more than just her. Surely...

Mr. Ignatieff, the opposition, stupidly has no issue with changing the lyrics. But decides to use this as a springboard for delving into women's rights - or more accurately, to blame the Conservatives for not delving into women's rights. When driving, keep your eyes where you want to go, Mr Ignatieff, and don't stare at the oncoming traffic. It's sure to end ugly.

We are all entitled to our own opinion. But I don't really want to hear anyone complain who voted for the Conservatives. Because really, you got what you asked for.

I didn't accuse Mr Harper of failing to tackle other issues like poverty, or debt because, quite frankly, I don't have answers to those issues, either. One thing at a time.

Random Thought #12

Why does everything I eat contain 2% of my daily iron requirement?

Lego, Lego Man, I Want To Be a Lego Man

Thought I'd Share This With You

This comes from a site Tabi was reading today and that I was previously unaware of. I have little to say about the site or it's contents but this post struck me.

"Today I stuck may hand in my coat pocket and found a 5 dollar bill wrapped around a note. The note read 'you have just been reverse-pick-pocketed. Enjoy the five dollars, and know that it was forcibly received by your pocket. Take that, society!' MMT" - #4513(5), Feb 4, 2010, genevievegrace.

I don't know whether it's true or not or the circumstances surrounding it. For all I know, it was the woman's boyfriend that slipped it in there. But regardless, I'm in love with the fact that someone was thinking like this.

http://www.makesmethink.com/ if you want more.

Undouche #1

I suppose I should balance out a little bit of my cynicism with some optimism and shine a light on that which is beautiful and bright in the world.

For the past three Tuesdays I have been taking my dog, Lily, to obedience training. It's a bit of a hike to make in the winter so we take the bus. Each of those three weeks, one or another of the fifty or so year old ladies also there with their dogs has inquired about the carrier I bring Lily in (the bus line demands it). Though neither of us minds taking the bus, waiting around in the chilly weather for the bus to pick us up is a little daunting. And so, I accepted the several offers. So, to you ladies, who advance an offer to a young man generally regarded as a little creepy, I thank you. You are truly undouches.

Albrick Durer

Ok, so it's no Mona Lisa. But I like it. And I painted it.

Dear Mr. Bono

We regret to inform you that after twenty two years, we find it impossible to continue the search for whatever it is you are looking for. Though we are sure this must come as shocking and disappointing news to you, our search has been exhaustive and fruitless. While we feel your pain, you must understand that we can no longer expend such resources as are required to continue in this vein. We encourage you to continue your efforts on your own as well as to stop passing off third rate techno music as pop rock.

Best of luck in the future,

Music Lovers Everywhere.

Dear Mr. Kroeger

Ok, I get it. You have no respect for the women that suck your dick. Neither do I, to be honest. Now stop writing songs about it. You know what? Just stop writing songs.

Sincerely,
The World

Douche on the Street #13 - Crusty Old Broad

I was standing there at the lights talking with my significant other. I was vaguely aware of the dog at the end of the leash, straining to get close enough to the lamp post to do his business. He does that a lot so I didn't pay much attention.

"Don't you pick up your dog's dirt?" asked the hunch-backed, gray haired old biddy as she hobbled by. (Not "poop" or "crap" or "shit" but dirt).

"Oh! Sorry!" I apologized as I reached for the poo baggie in my pocket. "I have a bag."

Despite having apologized and obviously moving to pick it up, the woman continued. "There's lots of garbage cans, you know." And so on and so forth. To the point where I was quite annoyed with her. As she was walking away, still muttering, I murmured not so under my breath "crusty bitch."

In her day, people picked up after their dogs. In my day, people knew when to shut up. Because you stuck your nose in where it was uncomfortable and then kept it there, Crusty Old Broad, you are a douche.

Random Thought #11

The great thing about the internet is that everyone has a say. The bad thing is that I have to sift through mountains of shit to find a nugget of gold.

Random Thought #10

Socks are more important to a relationship than most people will ever realize.