Seasons

Merry christmahanukwanzukha and/or giftday.

Regardless of faith, have a good one.

On life

I stumbled upon this one on one of my long and late nights foraying into the internet. It's a section of quotes about life, within a greater site about more general quotations. I can't actually pick a favorite, so, here's it all for you.

Living.

I went to Metallica

And it almost went of without a hitch, aside from the hang over and missed ferry that resulted in the total obliteration of the day's plans. Up until I woke up the day after, everything was pretty sweet. In all honesty, it was a really fricken' awesome show; Metallica played every song flawlessly, including not only their new album's songs, but a lot of classics. They ended the show with Seek & Destroy; what else, right?

I basically missed both openers, which was damn sad, as I really wanted to see the first band up, The Sword, but only caught the end of the second act, Lamb of God. They were doing a pretty good job, and I'll admit that they were better than I expected; a good warm up, if nothing else.




On a side note, I figure some christmakwanzukah wishes are in order. Ladies and gents, best of the season to you.

Hope you get some awesome swag. ;)

I should be doing at least some of the work I need to get done for school, instead of posting here. With that said, I don't care.

Also, I'm going to see Metallica in Vancouver tonight, but have no idea if the person I'm going with will be available for the schedule of my existence, which could double screw me, as his place is where I'm laying rest for the night. Oh yeah, hurrah for disorganisation.

I suppose I'll have to sit around in a coffee shop for three hours, looking nervous and unsure of the validity of my life and the universe. Maybe I'll strike up a conversation with some kind of Vancouver's intelligencia, and discuss the concept of validity as a whole, entirely forgetting who and what it's being applied to. Maybe we'll find our way into deeper topics, like the meaning of life, or why they don't use cocao powder in mochas at Starbucks. Perhaps we'll start a riot against the unfair and horrible mistreatment of cocao in these modern times, and after being arrested and thrown in the drunk tank, we'll found a Non-Governmental Organisation dedicated to promoting the rights of cocao. Once our organisation has floundered from a lack of available funds, we'll get married and ride happily off into the sunset, producing twenty-some-odd spawn, each of which will be trained as generals in our army of world domination. Led by ur sons and daughters, this army will wash over the world in a wave of drunken hatred and pointless fury, ending only once the entine Earth is under the auspices of our mighty beer steins!

Oh yeah. Now I've got a plan.

On poems

My cousin writes poetry, and is rather good at it, so I decided to feature one of her poems here. This one is a pantoum, which I've never been able to write very well, so hers impressed me quite a bit. Of course the content of the poem is her creative copyright.



Green Sky

To make love under a pale green sky
To see you clean as you never were,
While the sun rises and the rain god smiles
And feel you dream of anywhere

To see you clean as you never were,
To switch off minds, and cease the trials
While you dream of anywhere
We’ll think deep thoughts and reconcile

To switch off minds, and cease the trials
Wholly real for a moment only
We think deep thoughts and reconcile
For as long as hope can hold

Fully real for a moment only
Brother, would you lie with me
For as long as hope can hold
By the running stream, ‘neath the willow tree

Brother, would you lie with me
Not a word to pass our lips
By the running stream, ‘neath the willow tree
We can say more within a kiss

Not a word will pass our lips
As we pause, not to leave
We can say more within a kiss
Now we step aside and kneel

We pause, not to leave
While the sun rises and the rain god smiles
We step aside, to kneel,
And make love 'neath a pale green sky.

On season

The skies are clouded, with wind and rain hacking at the windows. Autumn's iron grip has rolled over this part of the world with vicious fashion.

Finally!

Vote

Vote, America!

Up here, we recently had the lowest voter turn out in Canadian census history, and it brought NO CHANGE, so you had better get off your damned couch and vote.

Just DOOOOOO IIIIIIIT.

On cliche

Oh yes, I'm going to explore a cliche because I goddamn well feel like it..

The eponymous "free falling."

Often used by musicians or other famous types prone to excess; drugs, booze, sex and all manner of genuinely interesting things. In many cases, there is a massive nose dive in their career, which they may or may not recover from. It can also be used to describe many depressing states that normal civilians have as well; loss of jobs, breakups, sickness, death and onwards.

Why is it falling, though? Because, through a hard period, it's not the fall that kills you, it's the rocks at the bottom.

Now, I wouldn't call my situation anywhere NEAR that bad; however, with that said, I'm afraid of heights. I know that the ground will hurt me, so the fall is unpleasant. Call me realistic.

So...

That's it, I guess.

As the old saying goes: "all good things must come to an end."

While I could be wrong, I seriously doubt I am. Now to allow the feelings of being helpless and confused to set in.




The worst part, damnit, is that I know it could have been avoided.

Yay, me.

Torsion

Is a rather neat concept, but most technical descriptions involving complex physics calculations. Depressingly cold.

It's a way of twisting things using ropes or lines. You need two securely held ropes, the bigger the better. Insert a device between the lines meant to be twisted with massive force, and twist them around until they are ludicrously tight.

Really awkward way of making a catapult.



Random knowledge of the day. Watching movies on the T.V. is not to be practiced unless prepared for anything. Not prepared tonight.

Kind of a distraction from life at large.

Revolve

So, at some point, we humans thought that the universe revolved around our pitiful little planet. At least most of us now accept that as full-on horse shit, which it fully is.

That said, everybody has their own universe their own tiny monkey sphere, of Friends, Family, Lovers and the inevitable Hate-Driven Cocksuckers that congregate just as vultures. Every one of these people are motivated by something; Friends by mutual associations; Family by requirement and sometimes even because they actually have fondness for you; Lovers out of genuine love, or plain lust, whether for money or for cock (or the other appropriate organ); and, finally, the Hate-Mongering Dick-Choking Fuckers with nothing better to do with their lives. Somehow, their worthless little universe revolves around making you miserable, usually with little to no reason.

So, I propose a solution.

First, you'll need to find a lead pipe or a steel bar. Next, you should crack one of them on the back of the head. After that, I figure it's up to your discretion.




With all this in mind, lets take a look at the United States' mortgage lenders, the ones giving entirely unqualified families and individuals mortgages that they will never be able to pay off. The did it for profit, lots and lots of profit. Their universe revolved around making cash on the misery and lack-of-cash of the Average Joe.

Looking for that lead pipe yet?

For the second time:

Fuck it.

The electoriat

According to some people, the government is the ultimate form of control, keeping its people downtrodden at the end of a whip. Not entirely true, as they are in office for one reason and one reason only. They seem to forget it far too often.

If we voted them in, why are we afraid of them? Why should we be afraid? According to the democratic process, they are supposed to represent us and our values.

As a very well informed, though fictional, man once said: "A people should not fear its government, a government should fear its people."

So lets strike up a little fear.

The America

So, instead of helping the entire country wrest itself from a possible depression, congress decided that it would be an awesome idea to whore themselves out for votes. The 700 billion dollar plan that would work got voted no, mostly thanks to the Republican side, which voted two third against, while two thirds of the Democrat side voted for the bill.

Why did they vote it down? They said that it doesn't help the average American. Well, the odd fact is that if this buy out does not go through, the country is like facing a second depression, so I don't think stopping the bill really helps anyway. Also, this isn't quite a "buy out," it's more of a "buy in" to the market as a whole, which means that this money could actually grow and be taken back by the government and spend on something directly helping Americans. Thanks for reading that memo, jackasses, instead of helping your people, you're just appealing to them for more votes, so you can pad your retirement package by staying in office a little longer.

So, once again, American congress drops the ball. In fact, they did worse than that, they just gave the entire world the collective middle finger. The way I see it, all those Republicans who voted it down wee thinking something like this:

"Hey, we know you're screwed too, but we're going to sit on our asses and futz around trying to keep ours seats in office, because we're power hungry and can't go on withot having enough capital to fund our third home in the Bahamas."

Oh, and if the American market goes down, then the whole world is screwed. Thanks Republicans!

Philanthropy

So, Paul Newman died, and now everybody is lauding him as a great philanthropist. That's all fine and dandy, but was it not the man himself who once said "I don't think there's anything exceptional or noble in being philanthropic. It's the other attitude that confuses me."

Ironic, yes, that he was quite a giver, throughout his career. I find the bigger irony is that many people are calling him a hero of giving. Maybe I'm missing something, but I think it's a little silly to elevate someone who obviously didn't believe in such elevations.

Just my two cents.

Politik

Stephen Harper is probably not the best human being on the planet, this much is for sure; he's a politician, after all, but while he might have been able to secure my vote, he certainly lost it now.

Somehow, through his advisorial staff, somebody told him that working class Canadians don't care about culture. Last I had checked, "culture," such as theatre, music and movies, were mostly designed for the working class as a type of escape from the rigors of a badly governed life. (Thank you History 106.)

So, instead of distracting your people from your failures by spending cash on movies, television and other escapes, Harper finds it useful to cut funding.

For the first time in a while, I'm finding it difficult to come up with words strong enough to condemn something along these lines. Almost once a week, I attend a poetry reading (shut up, I'm a writer) which includes featured readers. These readers come from all over Canada to perform at this event, and their travel costs are partially subsidised by the Canadian Council for the Arts, which draws its money from government subsidies. If this service had less available money, then where would my own small corner of poetic solace go? And before anybody says that poetry readings are a small part of this, chew on the fact that the cafe where these readings takes place is standing room only, every week.

Somehow, I doubt that this kind of event would go anywhere but down the shitter, thanks entirely to Harper.

Kind of nice to be able to blame something so grand on one person. Gives you something to imagine on your toilet paper when you're wiping your ass.

On second thought, I don't think Harper is good enough to wipe my ass.

New-school Metallica

As luck would have it, I was given the new Metallica album (Death Magnetic) by my girlfriend for my birthday this past week. The first thing I noticed was how the cover was arranged, especially the rear, with the whole thing laid out the same way as Master of Puppets, Ride the Lightning and etc. This gave me hope. It was not entirely dashed, either.

Say about 80% of the songs on it are pretty good, with both guitars sounding the best they have since the black album. Hetfield's lyrics can get a little bit contrived at times; in The Day That Never Comes, saying that "love is a four letter word" is a little childish and just not the kind of thing I'd would expect to see on any well produced artist's album. That said, the riffage is good times throughout, coming to a very nicely riff-led instrumental, Suicide and Redeption, near the end of the disc. It's far from Orion or Call of Cuthulu, but I like it.

Sadly, Lars has not really become a better drummer in the past 20 years, and seems to be falling on the same patterns, overall. There's a few cool little steady, mid song beat changes and at least one neat fill, but it's mostly same old Lars.

That said, Kirk seems to have a bit of issue breaking out of his old habits, which end up sounding exactly the same over time; you can dress up a chromatic scale, but it's still a chromatic scale. Of course, he has some brilliant moments: Suicide and Redemption has a couple really good solo moments, but most of us know that Hetfield probably wrote those.

Trujillo is a fairly good bassist, as far as I've seen, and it comes across a few times in the album, wherein he can be found riffing away and not doing a bad job, either.

I would summarize it as a well written record that could be a tiny bit better, but, on the whole, is worth the time of any vague Metalica fan. Definitely nothing to get any newbies hooked on the band, it seems, but I could be wrong.

More from MacLeans

Another interesting article here.

Pakistan and the U.S. have long shared the same feelings on terrorism: kill 'em all and let God (Allah) sort 'em out. Generally, this has led to good relations between the pair; however, as usual, some American troops have screwed things up through following orders. I can only assume that Pakistani officials were not made aware of the American operation.

One would assume that, by now, the U.S. commanders would understand that their allies should be made aware of what American troops will be doing; obviously they have not learned. I am continually amazed at the lack of forethought on the side of the American military hierarchy. Despite being one of the most advanced militaries in the world, the commanders seem to refuse basic information to allies, usually citing the requirement to keep the operation "clandestine." Do they somehow believe that their allies will go to al-Qaida, or whatever other group is being fought, and inform them of what is going on? I might not be a military man, but last I checked, allied militaries don't tattle-tale on other allied militaries.

Seriously guys, grow up.

Stereo

This is my stereo.

I like it. Simple, very little maintenance, surprisingly hi-fi and, best of all, I never paid a dime for it.

And they're on the lamp, not my head, for a reason.

Just in case...

...you were not aware and had not already figured it out, the expectations about love and relationships that Disney will give you through the various films...









...are utterly ridiculous bullshit. Don't believe any of it, for your own good.

It's the Woman's Fault

So, MacLeans has always served me as a source for news, biased or otherwise, and in my readings of their website, I found this.

Quite interesting how, firstly, McCain chooses a female VP with little credential and policies that contradict his own, and, now secondly, he is using her as simple smear leverage against Obama. In the context of what Obama said, he was directing his comment at the Republican party in general; this was obvious. However, knowing the media's usual interpretation, it will cut out the one phrase that can be twisted in meaning and spray it all over the wall.

Kind of solidifies the "lipstick on a pig" ideology, eh?

Fuck it

Read the title, it's a summary of things.

On loitering

So, instead of being at college and learning new and wonderful things, I find myself sitting in a nearby coffee shop at 8am, wondering why the hell I agreed to college in the first place. It's too early, I didn't sleep for more than twenty minutes at a time and every time I try to stand up, some force tells me that it's too much work and that I should not bother.

It's the exact same feeling I got every day I went to high school. Odd coincidence? I think not.

I guess the only real difference I've managed to pinpoint so far is the fact that this schooling is not free. VERY not free. Three textbooks cost me close to $250, and two of them were used.

Now, all that said, I know I'm not exactly the first person to complain about school fees and book prices and all the regular crap, but honestly, I feel like I've been ripped off by somebody who doesn't even know how to rip you off properly. If you're going to rip someone off, you steal just enough money so that they don't know the difference, so they will come back and get ripped off again. $250 for three books? I really don't want to spend that much on that many books ever again.

By that reasoning, the college book store is the real loser, eh?

Sure it is. I'm the one with the lighter billfold.

At least the coffee is starting to kick in.

Days

Few days, actually. Left until school, that is.

At least I have this spanky new MacBook Pro, which contains more power than I will need for school, but was bought under those auspices anyway. Thus far, I haven't used it for anything even vaguely educational, which is oddly satisfying.

I suppose one would call it a "small comfort" compared to the looming specter of college. I'm probably being a whiny bitch, but school has never given me anything except grief and another thing to waste my time with. It isn't as if I won't go, I just doubt I'll even come close to enjoying it.

Maybe I'll just play games on the college's wireless network all day.

Press record

I have two videos on YouTube, and they're not about my friends and me doing something inanely stupid.

They're down below, if you want a look. Check my account page on YouTube for the one or two more that I have.

In memoriam

This sucks.

This does not make for good times.

As odd as Bernie Mac was, he definitely made me laugh. His last hours did not sound like fun at all. I won't quote them here, but one can find them around the internet.

I'm sure he'll be missed.

Well

This is interesting. I would call it "good," even.

The end of one tale...

My tenure at a job has ended, finally. It has been over one year of working, and I've grown tired of the job and will now move along. The month of August is and will be, as they say, my oyster.

As for September, not only will I celebrate the passing of another year since the day I was born, but I will also be mourning the loss of my free time; I've heard college eats free time for every meal of the day. Sometimes even snacks. I'm fully and completely screwed.

But I'm getting educated.

On a side, and vaguely interesting note, I will be posting some project pictures of a device I'm working on. It used to be a cassette-carrier in the form of a suitcase. You know, cassettes? Tapes? Music? Never mind, you're all too young..whatever, this device is being recycled for my own personal uses. Pictures and updates will follow, once it gets started.

Also, I will be busy for the next three days; not like anyone will notice, but the world requires the information anyway.

Music

Self expression is a bitch, especially when you're fully aware of what you wish to express, but can't grasp the method of speaking it.

Really round-about way to describe an old cliche and a state of mind. I have no issue with ideas, it's getting them off my head and onto the medium that isn't as easy. I've been taught, even told, exactly what to do. Somehow it never actually gets done the way it should. It sure as hell comes, but never in the exact way it's supposed to.

Gorramit.

Naturally, the thing that has taught me thus far in how to create may be retiring soon, which leads me to the conclusion that complete failure, breakdown and disambiguation is nigh. Pulling down a self made and self appointed castle is more difficult than razing the oppositions'. A castle in itself is annoying enough; weapons of siege are hard to come by for cheap in this day and age. Also, I doubt the Americanskis would be willing to let some of those tasty 155mm mortars into my possession, monetary concerns aside.

Maybe I should just pay more attention to the obituaries. Slightly less depressing.

Disturbing developments

So, back on the World of Warcrack. God damnit.

Job's ending soon as well, so no more cashy cash. Times are looking lean.

Maybe I should eat something other than chocolate.

Interesting...

Thought

That whole mood/eating/reading crap was boring, so it has been removed.

That aside, I have personally come across plans to build cigar box instruments, thus, I will be building one/many. These projects will likely make an appearance here, as well as elsewhere.

Keep watching...

Muse

Mindset: Puzzled
Listening(?): Seabeast - Mastodon
Reading(?): Something intricate
Consuming: Coka-Cola

My left hand's smallest finger refuses to stop twitching as if it were trilling a guitar string. I have no idea why it would do this, as it has no active knowledge of such arts, nor is it strong enough to perform the task. Maybe it wishes to gain strength of its own volition, not to assist, but to become part of the limelight, as the hand's other fingers are.

Perhaps it aims to escape and find another's hand, possibly one who would use it right. I suppose I don't give it enough attention, I don't type with it, nor do I use it very often on one of my own instruments; it must be bored.

I would assume that it really is overworking itself. Escape would be immensely difficult.

Speaking of overwork, I ran out at 4 o'clock this afternoon; my shift ends at 6. I had to avoid the managers' eyes for two hours and amuse myself by redoing many of the things I had finished earlier. Result: extraordinarily boring afternoon.

My finger's pain has been felt.

Bloggings

Mindset: Enthused
Listening(?): To The Edge - Lacuna Coil
Reading(?): Computer monitor
Consuming: Saliva

It's a blog. It's my blog.


So marks the end of an era, thus also the beginning of another. I said I would not blog for a very long time; that was a very long time ago.

As such, I shall blog.