Ramblings and Disillusionments

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Mon, 30 May 2005 18:53:24 GMT

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la bicycletta

Wed, 27 Apr 2005 18:54:42 GMT

I tuned my bike up over the weekend. It needed a complete overhaul (I hadn't ridden it in so long); hair and dirt and goop stuck on the chain, and both inner tubes needed to be replaced. Mostly it went well except I stupidly poked a hole into the rear tube trying to get the tire back on, so had to patch it up. *d'oh!*
The other tragedy was when I was putting the chain back on, I was rolling up my sleeve to prevent grease from getting everywhere and when I raised my arm the little black pin flew out of the tool. I heard it *ping* somewhere on the deck but I can't find it, I think it landed in the plants so it's probably lost forever. That will be a real problem the next time I need to tune the bike. I had to pull a genius manoeuver; I used a wrench to partly close the joint of the chain, then found something small and strong enough to brace against the tool so I could push the chain closed the rest of the way. The peg isn't quite flush with the rest of them but it's not sticking out enough to interfere with the gears.
Why that little pin isn't attached to the tool I don't know; probably so it can easily fall out and I'm sure they aren't sold separately so you'd have to buy a whole new tool. Bastards.
Rolled down to the gas station to fill up the air then ran a few errands. It feels pretty good to be mobile again. I always used to use my bike for transportation (I just realized why I was in such good shape before and have gotten flabbier in past years. Well, that's already being rectified, even more so now that I'm on the road again!)
Even after all that I couldn't get enough of the bike and went for a big ride all around the university. Up to SW Marine, across to Gate 6 (Wreck Beach) and back home down Chancellor. I was on trails about half the time and on paved paths about half. I'm pretty majorly stoked about this and will be a Riding Queen once again!

* * * * *

I am jumping on the blog-bandwagon; registered trails with Typepad and Wordpress. Trying to avoid Movable Type because the less programming there is in my life the better. My blog will be part of my site (I had to learn Dreamweaver to re-build my charity site) so I don't want to get too fancy with it. I'm not very impressed with the templates or the design styles they give you though so we'll see what I finally end up with.

"They're releasing 30,000 Coho fry in the stream"

Fri, 22 Apr 2005 17:49:33 GMT

Yesterday I was walking on the beach (no jogging on Thursdays, Keta pooped!) when I came up on a woman talking to an old man. For no apparent reason she turned to me and told me about the salmon. I decided to hang around, what the hell, because I'd really like to see that.

They drove a pickup to a fenced off area where a 'pond' of sorts had been reconstituted and protected a couple of years ago. I was told that they tried this last year and had 6 full grown salmon come back.

Well in hanging around to watch the operation I basically got enlisted to help. There was a very large cooler on the truck, and we were handed buckets with lots and lots of swimming fish babies. I followed a woman up the restricted trail by the stream as she explained to me how to let the water mix gently with that in the bucket and just let the fishies swim out on their own.

I found a calm pocket and did just that; they all glide out together then hone in on some protected space -this time around a tree root- and all bunch up together having a little party. It was great to watch.

The second bucket we were told to go a bit further upstream (they think last year they would have had a better return if they had not dumped them all in the same spot too close to the ocean; most of them must have got washed away with the next heavy rain) so I trucked through the bush with the one Parks Board fellow following me. We went a ways up and in being careful not to splash any fishies out of the bucket I got stabbed in the face with a broken tree branch. Ouch.

So we found our spots, with the Parks Board fellow commenting that the fry were starting to suffer from lack of oxygen. So in my haste to not suffocate them, and distracted by the pain of my face (no blood thankfully, it was just a scratch silly girl) I sort of carelessly dumped them all in one big sploosh.

Oops, a few of them were floating belly up! Oh dear. I splashed some cold water on my face then we made our way back to the truck. I told them that maybe we had taken too long to get to the water because my fish didnt' react so well and one of the guys said when that happens he just reaches under the water and tickles their bellies until they perk up. Ok then!

One more bucket to go, this time again carefully and they sure do all pool together in a tight bunch. One of them almost got caught in the flow downstream but fought valiantly and joined the others. It's all quite fascinating really, apparently this strain is hard-wired to return to just this type of habitat to spawn so this November there will possibly be some action in that very stream.

I went home quite happy with myself for making the effort to help out. I dont' even know who these people were, I think they said they work at a hatchery in Maple Ridge. It's funny though, because apart from the staff and the Parks Board guy, all the previously contacted volunteers were senior citizens (then it was just me and two girls who were jogging and also stopped to help).

* * *

This morning on my way to work I saw a poster for an I, Braineater show. Man, does that ever take me back!

sudden Sunday hailstorm

Mon, 18 Apr 2005 20:28:05 GMT

Sunday is chores day. To be ready for another week of work I usually cook up a big pot of soup (or some such thing) and make sure all my clothes is clean. There's nothing more irritating than finding there are no clean bras or the right colour underwear on Monday morning! I also wash my sheets. I like to hang my down comforter outside every couple weeks or so; it gives it such a nice fresh smell, and together with the crisp clean sheets makes my bed delicious.

I always sleep so well on Sunday nights, wallowing in the comfort.

Well yesterday afternoon turned out pretty spiffy-nice so I hung the comforter directly in the sunshine. Didn't worry about it, turned it once while the soup was bubbling and the sheets were rolling around in the dryer.

At about 6:30 I sat down to a nice snack and a glass of wine when suddenly the windows started getting pelted with hail. There was about a microsecond pause between my noticing the hail and the realization that my comforter was still outside.

Water and down-filled items do not mix.

I jolted up with a curse and raced outside to save the thing. Luckily just the lining had gotten wet and I tossed it in the dryer. Then I noticed my cat was no longer in his place of sleep.

He's such a baby now that he's a senior citizen. Everything scares him (which is good because I'd rather he run away than stand up and fight like he used to, but it bugs me precisely because he used to be such a tiger) especially certain weather conditions like thunder. He's always hated thunder and takes up residence under the couch until it's over.

Which is where he was yesterday. I guess the combination of my sudden noise startling him out of slumber and the couple of minutes of hail pelting the window freaked him out. After half an hour of him cowering on the carpet (I wouldn't let him crawl back under the couch) I got fed up and took him outside. By then it was sunny again and everything smelled awesome; wet and succulent.

He was still all skittish but I managed to get him down the back lane a ways. Pretty funny to watch him wavering between starting to run back to my house and stopping to smell every blade of grass and root of bush. At one point he was ping-ponging in each direction a couple of times. I was beginning to doubt his sanity.

O my little Raz, my home would be so boring without you!

the politics of concert going

Sat, 16 Apr 2005 22:10:13 GMT

Last week I went to Arts County Fair at UBC, an outdoor concert known locally as the beginning of summer. Held on the last day of classes it's basically an excuse to get brutally drunk and obnoxious. Outdoors, music and free-flowing beer; what could be more Canadian?

Myself I had a great time. I didn't hook up with friends as I intended, and ended up having numerous delightful interactions with strangers. I didn't see any of the widely reported barfing or violence, but then I pretty much stuck to my consistantly favourite spot at shows; around -preferrably in front of- the sound booth. There usually the crowd is thinner, but consisting of people still mostly interested in the music and the sound is always best. Further up front is uncomfortable crowding and unrestrained exhuberance, further back is people generally too hosed or otherwise disinterested in the actual show.

I know what it's like up front, I used to always only want to be there. It's easier to see the players but the sound is often muddy, and you have to contend with the shouting and interruptions of those around you. There's also a need to keep aware of your immediate surroundings for that fist, elbow or boot that may make contact with your head at any moment. I find it too distracting and I no longer have the patience to ignore the drunken hooligans just looking for a release in a dense crowd.

That's what a show is for most people, you see. Especially a rock show. It's an excuse to completely lose control of normal social constraints and basically act like a total asshole. The vast majority of people can't remember the night, and think it's funny that they don't know how they got that huge bruise or bump on their head. The sad thing is that there is a not insignificant portion of the crowd that IS there for the music, and they are invariably the ones that suffer most in those circumstances.

I have been going to concerts for (*gulp*) 23 years. My first show ever was outdoors, at the PNE forum with such bands as Streetheart, Greg Khin and Red Rider. I was almost 15 and went with my best friend who was visiting from Ottawa. It was quite a good time; the audience consisted mostly of people from the suburbs who spent their time sitting on blankets and drinking or smoking. I think my next show after that was Violet Femmes at the Luv-a-Fair; we were 16. We got in because my friend's sister was going out with one of the bouncers. Since then I have gone to almost every show worth seeing in my town (and some not, haha) and also travelled some distance for concerts.

There have always been those who are almost rabid fans of the bands, those that could take-it-or-leave-it but can't pass up the chance to see a show, those just there because their friends dragged them, and those completely disinterested in the show but looking for an excuse to party. It's the balance of these elements, I guess, that determines how much fun the show is for those that actually want to see the band. Because basically with the right mix the less hosed/more focussed people tend to keep control over the partiers. It's more difficult to get whipped up into a frenzy when surrounded by level-headed people.

I think what is happening these days, however, is that the culture of live shows is being lost. Not only is there not a vibrant local music scene, it's almost non-existant. Bigger name acts swing through town much less frequently than they used to, and ALL the huge acts have shows more concerned with effects and costumes that live music. Many of those don't even sing live.

So the kids today don't really have a concept of powerful energy released during a true live performance. They have been drinking and looking for booty all day, then suddenly the headliner appears and the energy starts to sweep through the crowd. They feel it, they like it, but they don't know how to handle it. They have to express it, of course, that's the nature of the event. But how? They don't know how to dance because they haven't generally been listening to music with much melody. Today it's all rap posturing, bumping and grinding, or a mutant version of headbanging.

The energy flows through them and they are at a loss, but they do feel the power. Girls squeel and exclaim to each other "he's so hot!" of one or another of the players. Boys turn to each other and get rambunctious. The rambunctiousness quickly spreads to those around them and fights break out. Now the crowd is feeling the heightened energy, and without a healthy smattering of focussed audience member, the violent behaviour escalates. At this point most normal people start to bail out because it's sheer insanity, and the animals take over.

People fall or get pushed down and are stepped on. No one is 'watching out' for those around them as we used to do. It's funny because the more radical (or 'angry') the music was the more care people took for each other. A performance has a natural rhythm of it's own, usually planned by the performer but sometimes just random. The energy tends to build as the show goes on, then starts to mellow out towards the last few songs and even if it ends with a big bang the energy has all completely dissipated by the time the last note is played. That's why you invariably find lost souls wandering around aimlessly at the end of shows; they felt and enjoyed the energy but now it's gone and they want it back so they wander around as if they think they can find remaining pockets.

But these kids don't know how to follow the rhythm of the energy, it's almost as if they never feel it so they just remain whipped up in a total frenzy the whole time. Even if a slow song is played. Even if no song, and the performer is just talking. It's quite bizarre to watch actually, how a crowd can be so deeply into something but so incorrectly influenced by it.

It often happens that people throw things on the stage. Especially at outdoor shows. And I don't mean Tom Jones-type tossing of panties. I mean pelting. Aiming at the bodies up there. Why do they do that? It's a good question. My opinion is that, with all this vibrant energy floating around, being absorbed by the people then rattling around in their psyches untended, they want to connect with the players. Basically, they want to be up on stage. But they know they can't do that, even in their confused states (there's always those who try, but fail). Since by now they are acting like animals, purely on instinct or some other base impulse, the next easiest way to feel more connected with the actual stage is to throw something. It's the most immediate interaction with the players they can hope for, and it becomes a challenge to do it repeatedly, or to come closest to physical contact.

It's idiotic, I know, especially when you see people laughing and congratulating each other for actually making contact. Behaviour that is patently unacceptable in any given circumstance becomes applauded and encouraged. Can you imagine these kids pitching items at their profs in the lecture hall? Any reaction at all by the performers is doomed to failure. Ignore it and they do it more, "notice me! notice me! memememememe!", joke about it and they do it more, "make another funny!", get angry and they do it more, "nobody tells me what to do! I paid for this show. dance monkey, dance!"

The problem is that other people paid for this show too and this behaviour is ruining it for everyone. My dancing around like a right fool in the back of the crowd where there's lots of room and I'm not bothering anyone is an acceptable way to enjoy the performance. Even there some people (boys) consider me a moving target and think my enthusiasm is an excuse to allow them to stand basically on my feet. They seem to think I won't notice and my dancing movements will rub against their body in a way most enjoyable. That happens at basically every show I have ever been to, unfortunately, so I have developed finely honed defensive skills. Luckily outside there's usually lot's of room to be able to move over to the way far other side and evade the unwanted attention. Keeping moving is always the best bet. Unfortunately at inside shows (particularly if they are sold out) there isn't as much space to escape to and in the smaller confines the boy(s) may actually be able to follow me around. Then more drastic defensive measures are employed which I won't go into here.

But the performers don't have the option of moving. They can't decide that they don't like playing to those directly before them and spontaneously rotate the stage ninety degress so they are playing to a more sedate segment of the audience. In a sense they are sitting ducks. Literally. As previously mentioned the natural rhythm of the energy of a performance radiates outward and becomes diluted the further it has to go. So usually the people right up front feel it strongest. This generally works in the best interest of the performer, who gets to see the joy and rapture on the faces down front. But at the kind of show like Arts County last week, the performer gets to look at people getting pumelled, getting trampled, getting booted in the head, getting groped, and pelting the band with whatever lose objects they can find.

I imagine it would be greatly disheartening and seriously annoying. In one sense they could react like, "fuck you assholes I'm going to rock your ass", and in another sense they could feel wholly responsible for the destructive behaviour before them and want to stop.

But they are not responsible. It's true that the violence wouldn't be happening if not for the performance, but it's not the performance itself that is causing the violence. That's just an excuse. The responsibility lies directly with those perpetrating the violence and with them alone.

rainbow right beside me

Wed, 13 Apr 2005 20:18:11 GMT

Yesterday just as I was starting my jog there was a sudden storm. Usually in Vancouver we get endless pissing rainshowers but this was a healthy downpour. I was pretty soaked in short order.

I chugged along regardless, after about 10 minutes the rain slowed. By then I was right at the beach and as the sun came out I started looking around for a rainbow.

Suddenly there it was! Yay. basically right beside me on the sand (well, 10m away).

I kept jogging, looking over my shoulder at it. Soon it moved out over the water and became a thousand times brighter. It was glorious, really sharp in all the colours and casting a bright light below it. I wished for my camera, but alas it wasn't with me. Then the rainbow grew a dimmer twin. Now it looked really cool, especially when I was drying out but could see it still raining on the north shore.

I didn't stop jogging but kept turning to look at it so I probably wasn't making very good time (which I dont' care about). It was a perfect moment really, marred only by the stupid seaplane that kept circling the rainbows (probably taking pics). That was really annoying, it's like when you book a holiday at some lovely beachside resort then are subjected to the endless wail of jetskis. I hate those fucking things.

I'm going to buy a film camera (8mm or Super8)and sure wished I had already and could be filming that scene! I probably would have blown an entire 3 min roll just on that though. I'm going to have to learn how to use it sparingly. At $30 a pop (film + developing) it's not something you want to squander.

The added bonus to the day was that I was so distracted first by the rain and then by the rainbow action that my body didn't have time to start nagging at me to stop running. Before I knew it I was at the end!

R.I.P. Esther

Sun, 10 Apr 2005 20:42:12 GMT

On Friday we found out that a close collegue of ours had been beaten to death by her husband two weeks ago. I didn't know her in person but spoke to her often on the phone in the two years at my job. We had a close working relationship and I found her very nice. My boss had known her for a very long time as was quite broken up at the news. Her boss is completely at a loss.

We knew that she had problems with her husband, that he beat her and used drugs and stuff. I certainly wasn't in a position to say anything to her about it, particularly since my knowledge of her situation came second hand. But I have known others in similar states and I always tell them to leave. They always have excuses why they will not do so, at least for right now.

She has left behind two children, aged 9 & 11, who are currently under the care of Children's Services while their father is being charged with the death of their mother. That right there is the exact reason why noone should ever stay in those circumstances.

Esther worked as a research assistant to an analyst of the forest industry for many years, before that was employed in a research capacity by the IWA for a very long time. She was in her early 40's I guess.

Beaten to death. What a way to die. It's hard to imagine anything more horrible, frankly, because it certainly wouldn't be instant. First you'd be trying to defend yourself, probably screaming and crying, thinking "here we go again". I imagine the kids huddling in their rooms. Then you'd start to lose the ability to raise your arms or shout, but you'd still feel everything and true panic would start to set in. Then you'd pass out but still be alive for a while. Then, finally, you would die. I imagine the whole thing would take longer than ten minutes. Probably even more, for the internal bleeding and head trauma to do it's part.

Rest in Peace, Esther Kite. You certainly didn't have any in life.

Mon, 21 Mar 2005 15:22:23 GMT

Competing forces
pulling in tandem,
opposite directions.

Such powerful strength,
a body almost can't bear it.

As for the spirit,
the confusion is immense
for the divergent polarities
weren't meant to be so extreme.

It's the male and the female,
isn't that obvious?

With the same access to resources
but engaging them so differently.

Intentional? Or a conspiracy?

1997

Mon, 07 Mar 2005 15:29:01 GMT

Disjointed,
separated,
our lives we live alone.
Surrounding ourselves with others when the Fear gets too great,
which is for many Always & Forever.

But to what end?
Grabbing that fear and wrestling it to the ground
is the stuff of which life is made;
the very definition of living!

We pass our pasty-white existance,
all clean & pure and meaningless
—hovering floating suspended—
above the dirt and the filth which ultimately defines our being.

Our culture tries to erase the fact that we are grubs.
whiter whites
sparkling floors
constant company
parlour games

Distract us from what is real with
materials
products
entanglements.

But it's all fiction!

Fri, 04 Mar 2005 22:06:22 GMT

There was a show on the Knowledge Network yesterday that has me completely horrified. Not that it was anything I didn't already know, but the extent of it is frightening.

It was called "The Corporation" (and I guess the one I saw was part of a series). It featured Noam Chomsky, Naomi Klien, some reporters, some industry specialists, some staunch capitalists and one advertising person that had me shitting my pants.

The most interesting part was concerning brand placement, and the practice of creating 3-D manifestations of your product in the public domain. Examples included an enlarged version of a certain brand of basketball (like a sculpture), a Starbucks and a Superstore. I liked this part because I have always considered labels to be the emblems I see emblazoned on cars and clothing, not the stores themselves!

One very frightening part was this advertising consultant. They had done a study for toy manufacturers where they got a selection of parents to track their childrens' nagging over a two week period. The parents then filled out a questionnaire detailing how much of the nagging had actually resulted in the purchase of a product. It came out that fully one quarter of visits to theme parks are initiated by children. One third of visits to Chucky Cheese. Etc. The consultant used the data to instruct the toy manufacturers on how to better indoctrinate the children into nagging their parents even more.
Now that's not the part that frightens me; we all know that ads are very carefully aimed at children and are quite manipulative by nature. (much more so than they were when we were kids). The frightening part was when the question of the ETHICS of this type of advertising came up. Because the consultant squirmed out of it with bone-chilling ease. She spoke for a moment about their methods and practices then said, "now is this ethical? I dont' know. But we did all this work and if we can get our clients to sell more product then we have done our jobs." and grinned so widely at the camera that I almost fell over.
As if doing a good job is somehow a replacement for ethical considerations. Hitler did a good job.

Another slightly more frightening part (although, I am sorry to say, not surprising) was the revelation of what happened to a Fox News team on thier very first assignment in Florida. They investigated some hormone that is given to cows to produce more milk, which apparently was very little tested and has in fact leached into the milk supply. They had a very well researched piece all ready for air then spent the better part of a year being delayed, bullied and threatened by the Fox Corporation and their lawyers. In the end they were told by their general manager that "he decides what is news" and were outright ordered to broadcast false information. They refused. They could have taken a year's pay but would have had to sign an agreement never to speak of the subject with ANYONE (like thier neice's school PTA for instance) and were eventually fired. They managed to gather some incriminating documents from Fox and their lawyers over this time and took the company to court for . .. something I can't remember but effectively media intimidation. Three years later they won a settlement of some hundreds of thousands of dollars (jury verdict). More years later they lost the appeal on the grounds that it is NOT ILLEGAL TO BROADCAST FALSEHOODS AS NEWS IN THE STATE OF FLORIDA.
Tainted milk continues to make the rounds throughout most of the US.
By the way the same hormone was tested in Canada and in Europe and has been banned by both countries.

But the truly frightening revelation was the one about patents. Back many years ago some company discovered a microbe that can eat oil spills. The US patent office rejected their application because "one cannot patent life". This was later appealed to some US court which overturned the patent office decision because "it looked more like a liquid soap than a life form". In essense because it didnt' have arms and legs.
The US patent office then issued a one sentance statement that life cannot be patented.
Somehow through a convoluted process this was overturned, and with the recent research into genetics various genomes have been quietly patented. The result is that a handful of (US) companies now own the patents to the genetic blueprints of almost all life on the planet.

That is the most horrifying thing I have heard probably in my entire life. The implications of this are truly mind-boggling and I just shutter to think what plans are being laid in the back rooms and laboratories on this continent.

I hope there will be another episode tonight (because yeah, I just need to be more scared. No, actually it's more scary to NOT know what is going on), it was on at 9:00 last night channel 5.
(Knowledge is a BC channel so I don't know if it will be shown in other provinces.)

Sun, 27 Feb 2005 05:33:33 GMT

A sparkling blueness suspended
amongst the colours
dazzling,
they all shine together
to make a healthy glow.

In the time of transition
between states
is the danger most present,
of being distracted
from the path intended.

Remaining true to the course
therein lies the challenge
that is better to be faced
than trying to avoid
and forever living in darkness.

Sun, 20 Feb 2005 21:39:41 GMT

frozen clouds
blue

transport
chased by fighters

red explosions

two frozen clouds move apart
after being detected

what a noise it makes!

Sat, 19 Feb 2005 17:26:06 GMT

a bright winter sun shines
it's early morning light,
frost sparkles across the pavement
in dancing little twinkles.
like walking on a crystal firmament
it's better than any lazer light show

unbelievably gorgeous day

Sun, 06 Feb 2005 01:56:21 GMT

Thank goodness it was a Saturday so I could really enjoy it! Today was so fantastic I almost pulled my shorts out. At the beginning of February! Too bad I chickened out.

Usually at this time of year we are drowning in perpetual showers. It doesn't RAIN with the force of a storm for a few hours then clear up. It pisses and showers endlessly, the sky perpetually shrouded in a dull grey. Usually you would never know that there is an entire ocean out there, or mountains within walking distance. The vast expanse of sky is usually blocked by a screen of low clouds.

But today was something else entirely. and the whole city was out to enjoy it. Yesterday as I was crossing the Lion's Gate Bridge from work it seemed that the sky was clearing up; looking out towards Vancouver Island showed clear blue skies in our immediate future. I didn't want to hope too much for a nice weekend, because I could see by the choppy water that there was a wind blowing up. That could mean another series of showers just around the corner.

When I got home the north shore mountains looked absolutely delightful. The clouds had parted and there was a fresh sprinkling of snow on the hills. The lower ones had a sharp line just along their peaks, and I could see the runs clearly on Cypress Bowl. The wind on my side of town was slightly chilled by the recently fallen snow.

But today was a whole other level of glory altogether. I hurridly ran my errands and stepped out down to the beach as soon as I could. The local mountains looked like icing treats with the white snow blazing in the sunshine reaching half way down their slopes. The runs on Cypress were even clearer than yesterday. However the best part was those hills further away, the ones folded into the background behind those right on the coast. They are always so much more dramatic than the mountains directly before me, with their higher peaks and sharp outlines. Often I wish I could grow to giant proportions and just step across the bay and into their wilderness. Today every crevice and feature was sharply deliniated by the covering of snow. I considered returning home for my camera, but I have photographed those mountains before and my miniscule 200mm lens does not do them justice.

So I joyfully walked along the beach without a single care in the world. I realized that I have not enjoyed this luxury ever in my life. At least not in memory. As a child I had the hardship of escaping from Czech at such a young age to contend with, the language barrier and culture shock. Soon after my parents divorced and at 5 years old I was charged with the responsibility of taking care of my older brother and myself when my mum was at work or otherwise out of the house. As a teen I loaded myself up with responsibilities; always having a job as well as challenging myself by completing my Lifeguard's Certificate at a very young age. All while earning grades sufficient to make it into a good university. Then supporting myself entirely while attending university.

I suddenly realize that I am FINALLY at a point where I can say that I am starting to achieve some of the things I want. I have always forgone the larger paycheque for the job that would give me the widest range of experience, and for that I have paid with peace of mind. I'm not exactly homeless but I'm certainly not independently wealthy! However for the past while things have relaxed and I don't have to suffer stress every time rent is due. Now suddenly yesterday my boss miraculously decided to start paying me more, so I have even less to worry about in that regard!

He has also decided to start taking days off (not without a little bit of prodding on my part *cough* ) so I don't have to go through the agony of the first couple of days of every week where he doesn't have much to do so basically takes up space. I am entirely self-motivated but it's VERY difficult (especially in the dull winter months) to maintain a level of enthusiasm when my only co-worker reads the newspaper for 5 hours a day, stares out the window for another hour, and tries to strike up mundane conversations with me with no regards as to whether I am struggling with some difficult procedure on the computer. There have been times when I have just gotten fed up to see him playing Solitaire that I have hooked myself up with my own computer game. He will regularly not be coming in on Mondays and I am going to get that much more work done because of it.

So I enjoyed my walk without concern about having to eat economical meals because I have just paid rent and have no money until next week. Or without the thought bouncing in my head that I am going to want to pull out a machine gun at about 2:45pm on Monday after watching my boss do ABSOLUTELY nothing all day. I enjoyed my walk just gazing at the mountain view, smelling the fresh ocean air with a sharp tinge of snow to it, catching the occasional glimpse of eagles soaring high overhead, and frolicking with other peoples' dogs as they played keep-away with various sticks and toys.

I guess my troubles have been fading lately, because I find myself without that lost feeling of casting about trying to find what to concern myself with next. Everything seems to neatly have taken care of itself somehow and all that is left for me is to pleasantly live my life. I suppose most N. American people feel like that all their lives, but for me it is a wonderful new luxury.

• • • • • •

I have received eight rejections out of nine query letters submitted. In the meantime I have been reading a lot of resources about the fiction publishing game, and one about the process of writing. A very good piece of advice that I came across was to write for 2 hours a day. Even if you have to set your alarm that much early. I used to just write on weekends or other time off. I can only write in the morning; my creativity gets muddied by mundane concerns as the day progresses. My stumbling across this piece of advice is perfect timing because the days are getting longer and it's natural to wake up earlier. (not two hours -just yet!).

So I am writing every day before work. I have temporarily abandoned tinkering with my novel (which is finished except for one late addition element of a crazed lunatic that tries to sabotage the entire mission. I have already woven his psychosis into the story but need to expand on it and need to bring his demise out with a big bang). I am writing a short piece because I need to get published in a reputable literary magazine so I have a minimum of credentials to give to prospective agents. I have decided to try to be funny and am using my vast amount of horrifying experiences at my WCB job as fodder.

It's MUCH harder than it seems and I've started it like 6 times already but I'm getting there now. After my efforts I arrive at work already satisfied with a job well accomplished and breeze through the day quite light-hearted. Also I get to look forward to taking another stab at it tomorrow instead of waiting for the weekend so my week passes ever so much more pleasantly than it used to!

Smiles all around, courtesy of the good Keta.

Crazy Anarchist

Sat, 29 Jan 2005 18:41:39 GMT

It's a fellow we used to see everywhere back in the day; punk shows, on the bus, on the street, in the pizza shop, .. . . I saw him yesterday from the bus, stomping up Burrard Street. Still dressed all in black. Still honking on a cigarette. Perhaps a little more hunched over, a little older looking. He always looked quite haggard, like he'd spent too much time in a hot bath then promptly been run over by a train.

He always seemed like the most dysfunctional out of a scene of preposterously dysfunctional people. People who only lived at night, people who had no idea what it meant to hold down a steady job, people who lived 4 to a small apartment. People who never left the downtown core.

I wonder how he has survived? I can't imagine him ever doing anything productive, but then people have a way of surprising you. He must have money or an income of some sort, he certainly doesn't look unwashed and has a constant supply of cigarettes.

We called him the Crazy Anarchist because he always used to spout 'philosophical' nonsense when we were stuck with him on the bus. He was quite a bit older than us, in those days we must have seemed like uninitiated young punks that he could extole the virtues of his Master Plan to. It was all meaningless of course, as a PoliSci major/Philosophy minor it was easy for me to see the wholes in his arguments. I tried to engage him one time, I think, in a proper debate but it just devolved into yelling and spouting retoric that frightened the other bus riders so I stopped and just turned away.

•

I wonder about the human condition. There are times when something jogs a memory of those days; the liberal alcohol use, the late nights, the crowded bars, the many many MANY shows. It was a whole underground scene, the likes of which doesn't exist anymore in this world of preconditioned pop stars and easy accesibility of the internet. I truly hope something like that comes around again, it probably will but not until the current generation reaches beyond their 20's and the younger set start to hunger for something different.

So many of those people barely had jobs let alone some direction or focus. I wonder what happened to them when the scene faded away, when it became the 90's and the capable ones amongst us settled into office jobs and that mundane work existence. When Nirvana, and later Pearl Jam, became huge and you could buy flannel shirts at outrageous prices at the Gap. No more looking for it, some reasonable facsimile of the formerly underground movement could be found in the local mall.

I suppose most of those people grew up, finally got sick of sharing a small flat with so many others, got jobs and left the world behind. Some of them must have spiralled downward with their drug problems, and -with no central place to go to meet the suppliers and other users- they must have moved on into the seedy downtown Eastside.

But if the Crazy Anarchist has made it through reasonably intact, perhaps more of the others than I initially thought have also managed to survive.

You're so far behind me, you look like you're standing still

Thu, 27 Jan 2005 18:26:07 GMT

I've always had to deal with a certain kind of dismissal from my family, ever since the day I was born. I am the youngest out of everyone (including family friends' kids) so nothing I could ever say could possibly have been of consequence. They always responded that they 'knew that already', or that they had already experienced whatever it was I was on about. Even if they didn't know, or hadn't.

I realize now that due to that treatment I learned to not share my entire self with my family. I mean, who want's to be shot down by a room full of people, usually with a dismissive wave of the hand or a terse disapproving noise, every time you open your mouth? I found a lot more interest and approval for my words and ideas outside of the home, so I stopped bothering to express myself fully around them a long time ago.

I am finding, as I reach the stage in my life where I can consider myself on an equal adult footing with my parents, that my self-censorship has resulted in my family not really knowing me at all. To my mother my past is just one long string of events; she sees no difference between me as a 3 year old and as a 15 year old. She is completely unaware of my personal development. Too bad for her really. I suppose it's normal for parents to always see their children as their little babies, and maybe I am taking this too personally, but I am always surprised when confronted with the realization that she has basically been paying no attention at all to my growing up. Her complete surprise these days when I offer a suggestion that could actually be useful, or make an observation about something that she hadn't noticed before, would make me laugh if it wasn't so pitiful.

I used to get very frustrated in my mid 20's, after I had gathered some worthwhile life experiences and learned some valuable things, when I would tell my parents something they didn't know or explain how something worked. Invariably they would respond with the same "pooh-pooh" attitude, throw off an impatient air and basically give me an attitude like "why are you talking? there is nothing you could possibly know that we don't know better." Then, some time later, they would come across this information on their own, either through the news or someone else told them, and only then did it become valid to them. My mother would remark in great astonishment that I had actually been correct. This happened so many times that I started to make fun of her, and again I would be treated to a wonderful level of dismissiveness. As if they were trying to say that it was a fluke that one time. No matter how many times it happened.

Luckily for me I learned to get my approval and guage my self-worth outside the home at a very early age or I may well have ended up with a massive chip on my shoulder. It's funny to me, even today, when my mother makes mention of appreciating me only after some other person remarks on my insight. I guess it has become such a habit to only consider me the baby of the family that it takes some outside prompting for her to realize that my words have some value. Too bad it never lasts beyond the actual moment.

So there's always a funny dichotomy that goes on when I am with my family; they ACT like they know everything more than I do and that I would do well to be quiet and listen to the great pearls of wisdom that fall from their mouths. But I KNOW there are large parts of my experience that greatly exceeds theirs, and I KNOW that I have an infinitely more open mind therefore familiarize myself with a greater range of ideas than they ever did. So I sit and smirk inwardly to myself, and I take any opportunity to impress upon them my knowledge on a given subject. It's difficult though, because they tend to set the conversation, so topics outside of their own little world don't often see the light of day. And Beware of bringing up some aspect of life they are not familiar with, you will quickly see the conversation steered into safer waters!

As with most people when they age, my parents' world is shrinking. It's too bad, because they never realized how very small it was to begin with.

6 down, 3 to go

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 19:11:42 GMT

Late last year I took the plunge and sent my book proposals to 9 US literary agents. Six have rejected me and I am still waiting to hear from 3. I am *somewhat* encouraged at their lack of response, as it has been a couple of months and I am hoping that means they are at least reading my submission over carefully.

I got pretty finicky towards the end and when I was re-editing things back to the way they were before I realized it was time to just let it go and mail it off. In the meantime I have been searching for resources on the subject, finding that my submission was indeed correctly done and as true to myself as it can be. If I have no success this time I might re-evaluate, but I intend to send my next batch to UK agents so cosmetic alterations might not be necessary.

In the meantime I am writing a shorter piece to submit to literary magazines (particularly the Paris Review); this one is meant to be humourous so we'll see if I can pull that off! I need to be in a certain particular mood to be funny, and since my opportunities for writing are limited it's difficult to get the timing right. I may have to change my approach for this one, we'll see. I'm still working out the details.

New Year's

Fri, 31 Dec 2004 23:46:41 GMT

I have not been a big fan of the New Year's celebrations for several years now. The seeming 'enforced' need to party, and the excesses of drinking and carousing that goes on has put me off. I am all for a big bash (although I would prefer if it is held in some level of style, rather than just blatent overindulgence) but the absolute fervour with which people attack New Year's festivities repels me.

I used to meet up with friends and ring in the New Year, then they would go off to the bars and I would go home. But tonight I'm not even going to go out at all, I am just too downbeat -given the Tsunami disaster- to dredge up even a pretense of joyousness.

Never fear! there is definitely beer in my immediate future.

* ** * * * * ** * * * *

The enormity of problems in southern Asia is beginning to trickle into us; but there is still so much that we do not know (about the most remote areas). I applaud the efforts of aid agencies and foreign governments to do their best to help people in a very difficult situation.

I heard today that an island closest to the epicentre (off Sumatra, I believe) 40 miles from the epicentre in fact, has only lost 6 people out of 60 000. The wave struck just moments after the quack, but apparently they have a Tsunami warning in effect therefore there was very little loss of life.

Something important to consider, I believe, given the complete lack of even RADIO broadcast warnings on coastlines that had literally hours of warning.

Also yesterday on CNN (puke) an animal expert was interviewed. . .. back to my question about the animals and how they fared. Apparently it's very true, not that animals have a "sixth sense" (although some of them do have abilities to register changes in their surroundings that humans do not) but that there is some kind of innate communication that goes on. He said that the dolphins and sea animals would 'warn' the birds who would then bring warnings inland. He mentioned that, historically, humans probably would have picked up on the changes in behaviour but we have become so removed from nature and so desensitized to our natural surroundings that we failed to realize. Makes sense to me, in an odd sort of way.

But he said something else (and he qualified it by stating that he is not a raging environmentalist, going so far as to admit to not recycling all the time) about development. And how we always want to build as close to the water as possible. In doing so we take out coral reefs and Mangrove swamps, a natural barrier, at least to some degree. Of course, in classic mainstream news program fashion the one bit of actual INFORMATION in a 2 hour program is cut short. Because Anderson Cooper must dash off to interview yet another stunned American family that has made it back home safe and sound.

All of this touchy feely bullshit is getting on my nerves. Don't try to manipulate my emotions, first showing the grief and devastation then making us all feel better by showing the 'lighter side' or highlighting a story of survival.

It's bad, ok? The event was bad, the aftermath is bad, the people's futures are bad. Showing the .0005% of good things that have come out of it is neither realistic, nor -quite frankly- has anything to do with disemination of INFORMATION. which is what the news is supposed to be about. the structure of these programs is so facile and superficial I can't stand it.

I just remembered why I stopped watching network news so long ago. There is so little news and so much 'human interest' that I want to barf.

At some point they always ask, "How did that make you feel?" what a stupid question! First of all, if you cannot perceive of how the person FEELS after answering questions for several minutes they you don't deserve to bein that job. Secondly, it makes the reporter seem like an absolute IDIOT. Speaking to a mother who has just lost one child while the other is hurt and so traumitized it hardly recognizes it's own parents, he asks her how it makes her feel. WHO CARES! we all know, we can all sympathize for Christ's sakes. On the other hand, I suppose it serves people right for using the opportunity to get themselves on international television. And don't tell me it could help save your kid, because me in Vancouver seeing her picture is not going to help her, while the people in the immediate area not only do not have a television to watch (never mind the power to run it) but they likely never got an American station to begin with!

It's so retarded and yet they keep doing it, as if after a while we will become retarded too and not notice how incredibly stupid the whole thing is.

oh yeah . . . .

Thu, 30 Dec 2004 04:24:00 GMT

In my absolute raving earlier, I forgot to mention . . .

Yesterday I was wondering, in my egotistical Western fashion, if something like that were to happen to me what would I do. My first thought was that I would basically get the hell out. Forget all material possesions, I know for a fact that in the face of imminent disaster I would most certainly run.

My second thought was for my cat. The poor thing would flip out at the first sign of water, I can't even imagine his reaction. I started imagining myself gathering him up firmly and running for the hills (although, in reality, I live at the very top of every hill in my town . . . but whatever).

Then I started wondering about the people in that part of the world; surely they have dogs, maybe even cats. What could these poor pets have done in the impending disaster? Cats for sure would have no chance; I know they can swim but they freak out so much around water that their abilities become irrelvant.

It's funny because not long after I started thinking about this one of the news stations reported that . .. . "In case you were wondering about the large animals and wildlife in the area, it seems that for them there was very little death. Perhaps they became aware of the impending disaster early and headed for high ground."

Which would make me laugh if it wasn't so pathetic. For all of our instruments, measurements and calculations, we cannot come to grasp nature. "These things cannot be predicted", say the scientists. But the animals always know. Not enough to PREDICT, but enough to WARN. How many times is human life lost, while the animals get away unscathed? How many times do we note this in wonder, yet completely ignore it for next time?

Given the reality, the people living in one of these villages going about their daily lives, wouldn't be likely to notice the movements of cattle or wild animals. And neither would we, here in the West, with our complete removal from the natural world.

So we can continue with our emphasis on incomplete equipment and minimal instruments, when in reality all we have to do is expand our awareness beyond our immediate surroundings. All we have to do is take notice of the obvious signs of nature around us.

Because it's all one thing after all; the planet and all life upon it. It's just us, with our big brains, that try so hard to remove ourselves from the power.

completely horrified

Thu, 30 Dec 2004 00:41:20 GMT

The number of dead has now reached over 80 000, and certainly will rise. There are still many remote areas of Indonesia that have not been reached.

If this had happened in biblical times it would be said that it is an act of God, in retribution for some horrible crime of humanity. It would have been said that we get what we deserve, that this is proof of our lack of faith (or other crimes) and that we are being taught a lesson by the Almighty.

Now, with our scientists and our technology we say it was simply the earth's crust moving -an astonishing amount all in one go- and that the geography of the region has been permanently altered simply as a result of the earth's regular mutations (I heard today that the rotation of the earth is likely to be speeded up somewhat, it's circumferance having decreased. Fascinating).

Perhaps the latter is true, but what if it is the former? What if there is some omnipotent force that has caused such a radical, unprecedented (in recorded history) alteration? What if it is all part of some cosmic algorythm; the beings on this planet have not behaved in a correct fashion therefore they will be sent a message of great suffering. What if, the movement of the earth's crust being inevitable, there are alternatives available as to the scope and magnitude of the movement?

Perhaps it is just random molecules scraping against each other in a spontaneous manner. Perhaps this happens all the time in earth's history but, humanity having only been occupying it for the past 50 000 years or so, we are not aware of the geophysical history.

If it is in reaction to a series of algorythms (or logorythms, I always get them mixed up) set into place long, long ago, I have to wonder why it was that part of the world that was affected. Amongst the poorest in the world, the people are concerned with basic survival and livelihoods. Without the excesses we have around us every day, without the endless greed, laziness and shortsightedness the first world revels in.

Is it meant to be a wakeup call for us, to stop impacting the planet and the rest of humanity so negatively for our own vain, shallow desires? Are we meant to realize, in the suffering of so many countless innocents, that we actually have it pretty damn good and maybe it's fine time to start spreading that wealth around more equitably?

From looking at the newscasts one wouldn't think so. There is a definite tinge of glee in a fair portion of the broadcasting, a definite excitement at having something 'real' and dramatic to report. Safe in their comfortable studios the reporters interview people that managed to make it out alive and share stories of family members desperately searching for travellers that have been lost. (I find it in decidedly bad taste, by the way, when they show a desperate mother from Toronto, or somewhere in Texas, trying to speak to authorities to find their sons and daughters. It says a lot about the lack of connection of the news stations, but it speaks VOLUMES about the parent. To allow a camera crew into their home at a time like that? It's appalling, really.)

We are so removed from what we see on the screen, we watch it momentarily and when it gets too much, or our favourite show is coming on, we simply change the channel and go back to our comfortable, ignorant lives.

Meanwhile these people who had essentially nothing to begin with, who lived in bamboo huts and ate the fish they caught that day; these people that got their water from wells and probably had sub-standard sanitation conditions now do not even have a blanket to wrap themselves in as the storms hit. Do not have their spouse, parent or child to hold onto in a dark and rainy night. Do not have a chair to sit in, or a stuffed animal to hold.

I'm not saying that my scenario of some cosmic order is reality, I am just wondering -if we step away from the clinical scientific view for just a moment, and examine this from a purely philosophical perspective- if we are considering the magnitude of this disaster in all it's epic proportions?

* * ** * * * * * * *

I saw another eagle today, always a very moving moment for me. It came out of the university endowment lands in complete silence, moving it's wings so softly as to not disturb the very air around it. It came over the tree tops to the street and it took me a couple of seconds to realize it was an eagle, so stealthily did it fly. A perfect white head and white tail. I could see the individual feathers on it's wing tips, I could see it's eyes. It was flying very low to the ground, just above the trolley lines (probably 12 feet over my head). I spread my arms wide as I always do when I see one above, to show it how large I am (smaller than it, if we are counting wing span). It shifted it's head slightly in my direction, took nnot the slightest bit of interest and moved on towards the water

As it partly flew, partly glided away from me I stepped out on the street so as not to lose sight. Something so magnificent, such a perfection of nature, should not be taken lightly.

77,000 now.

Wed, 29 Dec 2004 17:06:17 GMT

This is just awful. I watch the news regularly and it's actually making me cry.

Yesterday I was angry that the people didn't have any warning, now I find out that Tsunamis are rare in the Indian Ocean. I had the opinion that Japan and Australia had warning systems because they are first world countries but it turns out I was wrong. In the Indian Ocean they have very good warning systems for monsoons and hurricanes, which happen regularly.

The footage in some of the less hard-hit areas shows people standing close to the beach watching the water come in, then giggling as they ran away. In a sense it's to be expected I guess, if in all of history such a disaster has never happened in these countries, why would the people react in alarm?

I am, however, distraught to find out that in India very many women died because they don't know how to swim. That just boggles my mind, that people would live beside a lovely beach their whole lives and never learn how to swim. These cultures that deliberately prevent people from learning basic life skills based on gender need to re-evaluate.

Many experts say that the number of deaths could double due to disease, if clean water and medical attention does not arrive immediately. Some of the more remote areas are currently only reachable by helicopter, and now it has started raining so relief efforts cannot get to them.

Entire villages destroyed with everyone dead, they don't even know how many people because there is no one left to tell. No one left to dispose of the bodies.

They are still trying to bury everyone quickly, making hasty photos or blood samples for identification.

I don't think the most imaginative horror movie writer could come up with a disaster of this proportion. It's so brutal, it's going to be a very long while indeed before humanity mentally recovers.

25,000

Mon, 27 Dec 2004 17:09:49 GMT

It's a number I can't even comprehend. 25,000 dead.

The tsunami waves that hit the coastal countries of the Indian Ocean have wreaked death and devastation beyond immediate imagination. The images on the news of people trying to outrun the massive inflow of water was just horrifying.

Apparently we don't even know the level of disaster in the hardest hit areas; the UN can't even get in touch with their own workers via satellite phone. This does not bode well.

But the most tragic thing to me is that it's likely that at least half of these people could have been saved. I can't understand how there was no warning issued, I mean even just through the radio. Leaders in these countries are saying they didn't know the extent of the waves coming, but . . . how could there not have been news reports of what happened in Sumatra? Just let the people know the POSSIBILITY of danger and let them decide for themselves. There were fishing boats out in shallow water and people tanning on the beaches, for fucks sakes!

I mean, can you imagine it? Hundreds of bodies lying inside hospitals and out on the street, and you have to lift the cover off each face to try to find your spouse/child/sibling or whatever? It's something that we in the West can't even grasp, and these people will have to do it in the days to follow.
I don't know what would be more horrifying, finding the person's body that you were looking for, or not finding it.

Of course on the major news networks here it is very much reinforced how WE are safe from this, how the Pacific ocean has extensive warning systems. Well, that's ok then! Thousands upon thousands of poor, dark-skinned people are dead and the rest have their lives ruined, but Hey! as long as that couldn't happen here we can all go back to our usual routine of drinking $4 coffees and planning our next luxury purchase.

It's so unfeeling to say, directly after showing images of absolute horror that could easily have been prevented, that we needn't be concerned because the very warning system that could have saved so many people is already in place for us.

At least they are making appeals for aid and donations. That shows a minimum of human feeling.

Social Skills

Fri, 24 Dec 2004 01:29:00 GMT

I know that teenagers don't exactly display the height of social graces, but I have noticed a decided degradation in their social skills lately. I don't want to stretch out a lame theory, but I wonder if the internet has anything to do with it.

The specific faux pas I am on about today is their seeming total lack of ability to move out of the way for oncomers on a sidewalk. Generally the rule is, when there is a group walking together in a line taking up the whole path, one of them should fall back or move to the side when there is someone approaching. That way I don't have to step out onto the street or walk in the mud.

When I was younger we were beaten into submission by the glares of older folk, until we learned to make way for them early enough to let them pass undisturbed. Now kids either move so late - or not at all - that it is impossible to avoid brushing shoulders.

The other day I was jogging in the forest and the path was obstructed by some folks playing with someone's dog. It's a wide path, but at the point where they were stopped it was mostly mud, so really only the narrow bit exactly where they were standing was usable. They all moved out of my way, taking the dog with them, except one. He just stood there, directly in the middle of the only passable part, grinning like a big goof over whatever the joke was and watching my approach.

I suppose I could have slowed down and asked him to move but I decided not to break my stride, squeezed past him and stuck my elbow out to clip him as I went by. (a bit of an elbow check, haha. I miss hockey). I heard him say "oops" really loud behind me. Ooops, yeah ooops. Let's not think about our actions, both big and small, and their impact on others. And this fellow wasn't even that young, probably close to my age.

I bring the internet into it because it seems to me that kids today live a kind of 'two-teired' existance; one where they are safely in their bedrooms communicating on the internet and the other -more traditional- one where they must interact face to face. This opens the door to not only being able to think carefully before they phrase themselves to others (presenting a false persona, or keeping a more latent aspect of their personality at the forefront), but also to avoiding the normal lessons of politeness.

This 'sidewalk hogging' seems new to me, really to have cropped up in the past couple of years. I'm sure it happened before, occasionally, but now it seems to happen EVERY TIME. I don't want to basically bump into you as we pass! Just get the hell out of the way, how hard is that? I think I will start saying something, just as the older folk used to chastise us when we were that age.

Ha ha I never thought of myself as a crochety old lady, but there it is!

a question of space

Fri, 10 Dec 2004 04:18:46 GMT

Comfortable personal space varies by country and by culture. Europeans stand closer together than North Americans, while Asians stand further apart.

I like to determine my personal space depending on the person I'm talking to and I don't like it when they try to infringe on that. There are places (like stores, or the bus) where we can't really control our distance from others, so we just have to bear the closeness until we are back outside.

This is an issue for me because I find I am a magnet. I suffer an inordinate amount of efforts of others to stand close to me. Once when I was in line at the market this (feeble-minded) couple behind me seemed bent on standing on my back. When the female went off to gather more fruit I took the opportunity to place my basket on the ground behind me, thinking it would prevent the man from continually brushing against my jacket. Hah, silly me. He brazenly picked my basket up off the ground -ignoring me when I told him to just leave it where it was- plopped it into a stack of empty baskets and took one giant step forward to be standing right on my back again. Glaring at him I took the basket off the pile, explaining to him that others would have difficulty getting a basket for themselves with mine sitting in there, put it in my spot and stepped sideways out of the lineup.

Honestly. I don't think it's too much to ask not to be interefered with by complete strangers!

I often have a real problem at concerts. I don't know what it is, like I said before I am a MAGNET. This is not an exaggeration; one time I was at an outdoor show with a bunch of friends, we had blankets, coolers and people spread out over the field. We were far enough back from the stage that there was miles of room around each person. About three-quaters of the way through the show I suddenly realized that there were 2 girls standing RIGHT BEHIND ME. I mean, they were like suctioned onto my back. At one point, when my dancing got a bit exuberant, one of them put her hand on my back (concert lingo for "watch out, I'm right behind you", meant to be used when mired deep in the crowd). Like what the hell ladies, take 2 steps back!

I don't really go to big concerts anymore, but I have the same kinds of experiences in halls and bars. In my younger days I used to go right in front of the stage, when there were a LOT more small bands touring, and an endless supply of local bands. Usually that space was less crowded than the area 5 feet from the stage. These days I tend to park myself behind where the crowd is thick (usually two-thirds down the dance floor). I stay away from the middle, and find a space where each person has a few feet of room around them.

Invariably I have to move. I mean, several times a show. To the extreme other end of the floor. Until someone else decides to stand right on my feet. Or another couple starts making out so close to me that their limbs are brushing against me. Time to move again. As I drift back to my original spot I notice several individuals that were there from the beginning, and no one seems to be encroaching on their space.

Like, what do these people do, really? It's dark and there is loud music playing, all attention is directed towards the stage. Do they get drunk/stoned/stoked then wander through the crowd until their senses start to tingle? It seems like the more I try to be invisible, the more of these moths I attract!

I don't know what it is, seriously, and if someone could explain it to me I'd really appreciate it. Even if I can't do anything to change it (hmmm, perhaps stop wearing deoderant! haha), just understanding this insatiable desire of random souls to participate in my aura would help me.

This culture of nudity

Tue, 16 Nov 2004 00:52:43 GMT

I'm REALLY getting sick of it. It's so pervasive now it is no longer shocking or titillating; quite frankly it is becoming boring. Too bad it is mostly a youth culture, they've skipped right over the *zing* part of seeing naked flesh and moved directly into expecting to see it anywhere and everywhere.

It's not the kids' fault of course, poor things. They don't even realize they are unsuspecting tools of marketing devices.

But what galls me so -and what has prompted this entry- is the proclomation of young females that they do it for a sense of empowerment. When, in the history of humanity, has nudity EVER demonstrated power??

Never, that's when.

It's appalling that we have gone from the "feminist" 70's (such a joke) to this age where young women are being fooled into believing such a fallacy. I mean really, if nudity was power then world leaders and top business people would be strutting around in Speedos.

There's a reason why they call it the Power Suit. There's no such thing as a Power Thong!

In the context of sex nudity is sensual, in a public arena nudity is crass and brazen. Especially in an all-ages environment, where it becomes discomfiting. Everyone knows that being without clothes makes one vulnerable that's why hostages, captives and prisoners are often disarmed through nudity. Which renders the almost parrot-like statements of these young women that being almost nude makes them feel 'powerful' even more nonsensical.

A couple of years ago MuchMusic did a special called Too Much for Much? about all the videos with mostly naked women in them and I was asked to speak my mind on the subject. The producer was sad that I am in Vancouver and couldn't come down to the Toronto studio, she said they were having a hard time finding people to support the 'keep your clothes on' stance. I had a few minutes over the phone to make my points, which weren't really addressed by the panel.

The only point I made that they did retort to was 'why is it always women??' to which the answer was 'because it's a male-dominated business'. Well I knew that, I wanted them to answer it in the context of empowerment; if it is so empowering to be mostly naked then all the men would be doing it! At that moment I also recognized the value of being in the studio; I would have pinned the panel down on that point.

Regardless, at that time it was male rap artists using anonymous women for wanton nudity. Now we have FEMALE artists -some of them with actual talent- appearing mostly naked in their own videos! And in countless public appearances. Things have gone from bad to worse, which -two years ago- I hardly thought possible.

Apart from the social impact (which, I'm SURE, is going to be huge as these kids age) the complete lack of artistic merit or self expression bothers me. It's like these people are all saying 'I don't know what to do with this video; the song has no meaning, the artist has no personality, and the audience has no attention span; so let's slap some bootie up there!' It worked once and now they just won't fucken stop already.