I really must try and get some words written, though lately it feels like all I'm writing are "puff", or darker than I care to advertise. There's a real lack of motivation, almost as though, if I'm not working on The Book (something that has me stuck), I shouldn't be writing at all. Which is exactly the opposite. You don't run a marathon without training and working out, stretching your muscles... This is no different (except I sit for far longer than the average marathon runner.
Ok, so consider this my "set" on the Path to a Literary Finish Line. What I would like to address today is the prevalence of "Bad Words".
Look, I'll be the first to admit that I love a good "Fuck" here and there, and I'll save my C-bombs for when the time is right and the person is justified in the label. But for the most part, I'm pretty careful with my speech, in part because of this "reputation" I've been salvaging for the last 18 months or so, and also in part because I won the social lottery: I'm male, white, and straight, with a pretty decent upbringing. Is this why I'm so sensitive to friends casually throwing hate words around like "nigger", "fag" and "dyke"? Perhaps.
Maybe it's the remnants of White Guilt or something like that, but to hear a girl referred to in passing as a "dyke" is more offensive than "fag", even though they're objectively, the same thing. And I know there's an argument for the idea that using a word regularly takes the sting out of the tail. To those people, I say: walk into the Apollo, as a white guy, and start throwing N-bombs. Yeah, that sting's still there, and it doesn't look to be going anywhere.
I guess my point is that people say stupid shit for stupid reasons (myself included), and it doesn't seem to be getting any better.
Go give somebody $5, and make their day. The world is full of frowns, so make someone smile.
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Sunday, May 12, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
ESPN has trouble with Snowboarding...
Ok, after some real difficulties with my account it seems I am back in the game, ready to titillate your senses with some claptrap that I like to call "writing".
There have been so many things I have wanted to write about, but technology's cockblock (writer's block-block?), coupled with keeping busy with a book and a website (oh, you know, no big deal) has kept my fingers busy. Even if the mountain and the snow hasn't got me moving... But that's another story. I will strive to remember the various topics over the next few days.
One thing I did want to start with was the X-games: specifically, the Mark McMorris/Shaun White "feud". I say this with more than a hint of irony.
New-ish snowsport site 33mag.com highlighted the issue in this article. To sum up, it shows how ESPN is trying to sensationalise a few (true) comments by up-and-comer 'Skatch native Mark McMorris said in an interview about White. Now, most of you that know me well know that i have some reservations about the Flying Twatmato. Hell, you build me my own halfpipe and give me $10mill, I'll be the best at it too. For $10mill, I'll be the best at just about anything, if I'm frank. I'm not dissing his talent: he has upped the game based solely on his discipline, but there are certain things that need to be considered. Shaun has become no different than any Hollywood superstar, surrounded by YesMen and thriving on their own gargantuan ego. McMorris mentions that White doesn't really hang with the other competitors, does his own thing. He's beginning to sound more and more like a recluse - think Carrie Fisher over Michael Jackson (though there is that "face mask" thing...)
But, back to my point. Even though Mark brings up some valid points, it's hardly seeds for "rivalry." If ESPN had any concept of the culture, the one I voluntarily choose to live in, it's the total lack of rivalry. It's the shared passion of getting up and doing your thing, be it rails and jumps, trees, backcountry, or speeding. One plank or two planks, as long as you're having fun, staying safe, and making stories for the bar afterwards. I have one or two people in town that I think are jerks, or just obnoxious, but if I see them on the hill, they're getting a shout out and a high five just like anyone else. Maybe even a hug if we just shredded the same waist deep powder!
That's my point. We're all doing what we love, whether you're getting mad sponsorship or just doing it to blow the hangover away. (Sometimes both...) ESPN has no idea what they're talking about: it's just about making it interesting to some poor kid in Nebraska. Ignore the bullshit, Ned (I'm sorry, Nebraska Ned, it was the first name that came to mind). Just watch these guys do something incredible: triple-god-damn-corks.
That's all I have to say about that.
By The Way: I'm growing a beard. For an article. It's awesome. (Next I might ask them if I can do an article on strippers.) Follow @thebrologboys and get ready to vote on my face!
There have been so many things I have wanted to write about, but technology's cockblock (writer's block-block?), coupled with keeping busy with a book and a website (oh, you know, no big deal) has kept my fingers busy. Even if the mountain and the snow hasn't got me moving... But that's another story. I will strive to remember the various topics over the next few days.
One thing I did want to start with was the X-games: specifically, the Mark McMorris/Shaun White "feud". I say this with more than a hint of irony.
New-ish snowsport site 33mag.com highlighted the issue in this article. To sum up, it shows how ESPN is trying to sensationalise a few (true) comments by up-and-comer 'Skatch native Mark McMorris said in an interview about White. Now, most of you that know me well know that i have some reservations about the Flying Twatmato. Hell, you build me my own halfpipe and give me $10mill, I'll be the best at it too. For $10mill, I'll be the best at just about anything, if I'm frank. I'm not dissing his talent: he has upped the game based solely on his discipline, but there are certain things that need to be considered. Shaun has become no different than any Hollywood superstar, surrounded by YesMen and thriving on their own gargantuan ego. McMorris mentions that White doesn't really hang with the other competitors, does his own thing. He's beginning to sound more and more like a recluse - think Carrie Fisher over Michael Jackson (though there is that "face mask" thing...)
But, back to my point. Even though Mark brings up some valid points, it's hardly seeds for "rivalry." If ESPN had any concept of the culture, the one I voluntarily choose to live in, it's the total lack of rivalry. It's the shared passion of getting up and doing your thing, be it rails and jumps, trees, backcountry, or speeding. One plank or two planks, as long as you're having fun, staying safe, and making stories for the bar afterwards. I have one or two people in town that I think are jerks, or just obnoxious, but if I see them on the hill, they're getting a shout out and a high five just like anyone else. Maybe even a hug if we just shredded the same waist deep powder!
That's my point. We're all doing what we love, whether you're getting mad sponsorship or just doing it to blow the hangover away. (Sometimes both...) ESPN has no idea what they're talking about: it's just about making it interesting to some poor kid in Nebraska. Ignore the bullshit, Ned (I'm sorry, Nebraska Ned, it was the first name that came to mind). Just watch these guys do something incredible: triple-god-damn-corks.
That's all I have to say about that.
By The Way: I'm growing a beard. For an article. It's awesome. (Next I might ask them if I can do an article on strippers.) Follow @thebrologboys and get ready to vote on my face!
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
And we're back...
Oh wowsers. It's been SO long! It's to the point now where I have to force myself to write something.
Ho hum, where to begin? I live by myself, in a studio. It's fantastic.
Ho hum, where to begin? I live by myself, in a studio. It's fantastic.
 |
| Excuse the mess. Actually, no. It's my house. Deal with it. |
I'm now, for the first time in my (almost) 7 years in Whistler, Creekside based. Here's hoping I get up to Whistler alpine a little more. Plus: Million Dollar ride outs!
I got picked up by ThoughtCatalog for an article, which I later had to pull because the subject was uncomfortable with the content. Which I respect. So I'm pouring a lot of concentration into a bigger, better article for Mountain Life... If you know how to get hold of John and Eric Jackson, send them my way. I could use their help.
I'll be perfectly honest I'm struggling with some serious writer's block. I didn't understand that idea until now. Before, when I had trouble exposing an idea, I just have a couple of beer and let my fingers do the work. Now... It's looking at a page of about 500 words, for hours on end, until I want to throw my laptop out of the conveniently located window to my left. So I'm really using this post that you're reading now to get the creative muscles flexed again.
I also have a review of an album that's approximately a week overdue... Here's the weird thing: I LOVE the album! I just haven't wanted to sit down and write about it. That's getting started immediately after I finish this. As an aside, I also received an email from Carl Coleman, lead singer of Sink Ships. I reviewed their EP about a month ago, and they wanted to thank me. Which was fucking awesome. It's easy to lull yourself into thinking that no one reads your work, particularly when it seems I just churn out one review after another, 300 words at a time. It's nice to have feedback, particularly when you consider that i'm doing this on my own time, with no recompense. So, Rolling Stone, if you're reading, I only do what i'm good at, and listening to music and writing about it is enjoyable. Send me an email and we'll get the wheels in motion.
In the meantime, I promise not to leave you all in the lurch for so long again. (PS: how good was Batman!?)
By The Way: I've been reading webcomics for a while now, and there's a couple that I regularly read. The first, Least I Could Do, has broken boundaries in my opinion by having not only a character, but the main character, in hospital with a serious malady Indeed, one strip this last week or so implied that they had killed him off. To someone that doesn't read it, it sounds stupid to be emotionally invested in a fictional person, but to you I ask: Did you cry when Dumbledore died? How about Forrest Gump's Jenny? It's the same thing, and LICD has shown that well written stories need a balance of humour and tragedy.
The second, XKCD.com, is wildly popular, in part because there are a lot of jokes about math, physics, and weird situations that most humour websites overlook. I wanted to bring attention to their recent strip. Entitled "Click and Drag", it opens up a vast snapshot in the XKCD universe, and with many punchlines happening all at once, I had to physically restrain myself from going all the way through. I highly recommend it for a rainy day.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Reasons Why This Summer's Going to Kick Ass
A beautiful day of contemplating life in the sun and I'm compelled to write this list. There's movies too, for you hungover people.
1. FUCKING BATMAN.
Seriously. The Nolan Trilogy will be complete, and there's all kinds of theories on the Internet as to what's going to happen. Watch that trailer up there (like you haven't already) and tell me you aren't excited that blockbusters are a thing.
2. The 2012 thing
I'm not superstitious, religious, pious, or even a little bit suspicious about the Mayan calendar. They ran out of rock, ok? You don't freak out when your desktop Far Side tearaway calendar gets to the cardboard at the back, you just buy a new one (or, more likely, unwrap it at Christmas). Plus, Mayans didn't do leap years, so by that calculation, the apocalypse should be happening right now. Except last year. Yep, like so many other Doomsday dates, this one came and went. Sorry, New Agers.
Except here's the thing: While I don't by into astrological claptrap, I do know what happens when a group of like minded people get together out of fear. I read Frankenstein: angry mobs. Scared villagers, except our village is on a global scale. There won't be a problem if we don't make it a problem, but even so, this could possibly, however insignificant, be the last summer where you aren't hiding out in a bunker, protecting your family and Twinkie supply from marauders.
3. I'm happy with who I am, and so should you be
For some reason, this radical perception of myself has presented itself in the last 6 months or so. I don't feel the need to answer for any of my "flaws" or shortcomings, nor for my decisions. Example: Yeah I have a hairy chest. Have done for years. You don't want to sleep with me because of it? That says more about you than it does about me. What torture it must be in your mind, full of barely pubescent boys that don't even know how to aim that thing, let alone how to use it properly (and by "properly", you know what I mean, ladies.)
4. This Speech:
Possibly bolstering #3 on the list is Adam Baker's TED talk from a couple of years ago. It's funny and informative, as all TEDtalks are, but this just spells out clearly: There is no "right" path. Just YOUR right path. I don't want to give it away, but it helps me justify living where I live.
Walking away from the safe option is never easy; we as a species fear change. Yet, we as a species are highly adaptable; the most adaptable species on our planet. Taking that into account, you can make it work. Whatever it is.
5. I MIGHT BE DOING THIS FOR MONEY!
Not this, specifically. But writing. I recently started writing for Brolog.ca, and in just under a month we have received a lot of interest. So I'm confident in saying that, at some point soon, I'll be getting a paycheque for putting my words online. (I write under a pseudonym though, you'll just have to read everything to find out which alter ego is me.)
Check that out, Like it on Facebook, and if you like what you read, tell 5 friends, and tell them to tell 5 friends.
I think that's it so far - wait, did I mention Batman?
1. FUCKING BATMAN.
Seriously. The Nolan Trilogy will be complete, and there's all kinds of theories on the Internet as to what's going to happen. Watch that trailer up there (like you haven't already) and tell me you aren't excited that blockbusters are a thing.
2. The 2012 thing
I'm not superstitious, religious, pious, or even a little bit suspicious about the Mayan calendar. They ran out of rock, ok? You don't freak out when your desktop Far Side tearaway calendar gets to the cardboard at the back, you just buy a new one (or, more likely, unwrap it at Christmas). Plus, Mayans didn't do leap years, so by that calculation, the apocalypse should be happening right now. Except last year. Yep, like so many other Doomsday dates, this one came and went. Sorry, New Agers.
Except here's the thing: While I don't by into astrological claptrap, I do know what happens when a group of like minded people get together out of fear. I read Frankenstein: angry mobs. Scared villagers, except our village is on a global scale. There won't be a problem if we don't make it a problem, but even so, this could possibly, however insignificant, be the last summer where you aren't hiding out in a bunker, protecting your family and Twinkie supply from marauders.
3. I'm happy with who I am, and so should you be
For some reason, this radical perception of myself has presented itself in the last 6 months or so. I don't feel the need to answer for any of my "flaws" or shortcomings, nor for my decisions. Example: Yeah I have a hairy chest. Have done for years. You don't want to sleep with me because of it? That says more about you than it does about me. What torture it must be in your mind, full of barely pubescent boys that don't even know how to aim that thing, let alone how to use it properly (and by "properly", you know what I mean, ladies.)
4. This Speech:
Possibly bolstering #3 on the list is Adam Baker's TED talk from a couple of years ago. It's funny and informative, as all TEDtalks are, but this just spells out clearly: There is no "right" path. Just YOUR right path. I don't want to give it away, but it helps me justify living where I live.
Walking away from the safe option is never easy; we as a species fear change. Yet, we as a species are highly adaptable; the most adaptable species on our planet. Taking that into account, you can make it work. Whatever it is.
5. I MIGHT BE DOING THIS FOR MONEY!
Not this, specifically. But writing. I recently started writing for Brolog.ca, and in just under a month we have received a lot of interest. So I'm confident in saying that, at some point soon, I'll be getting a paycheque for putting my words online. (I write under a pseudonym though, you'll just have to read everything to find out which alter ego is me.)
Check that out, Like it on Facebook, and if you like what you read, tell 5 friends, and tell them to tell 5 friends.
I think that's it so far - wait, did I mention Batman?
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Kindred Spirits and Fickle Minds
Sorry for the delay in posting, my few but devoted readers.
Yesterday was Gaper Day. I bitched out on last year's post, but I am determined not to repeat the lack of performance for 2012.
It was cold, and a little wet, and I broke my old Kemper binding clean off my Mambo board, but I got drunk with friends, and I still got to go snowboarding so all in all I had a great Monday. My Tuesday was somewhat hungover, but not nearly as bad as my associate, Dave. Jules, I think the only person NOT dressed up in offensively retro ski gear, had never experienced a Gaper day. Indeed, one older skier saw all 150 of us and exclaimed "Who ARE you guys?!"
This is why I'm here. It's all about the ski; the fun of the hill, and sharing the insanity with friends. We lost a lot of good people this winter as a community, and days like yesterday are the days I'll remember when I'm old and maybe too decrepit to ride 85 days a year. I may not be filling the bank account, but I'm truly happy. I know that the percentage of friends outside of Whistler that can honestly say that can't be higher than 10%.
Speaking of people I get on with... I've known about Waiter Rant for a couple of years when I received his first book for Christmas, but I finally got around to checking out his blog, the one that started it all. I started at the very beginning, and as of now I'm at April 15th, 2008's entry. An anonymous writer in his late 30s, "Waiter" tells all the sordid stories that I know only too well. It's funny; the more I read, the more I realise how many idiosyncrasies I share with the protagonist:
He serves tables, I tend bar.
A penchant for whisky, fancy words, red heads, and a good book.
A fantastic writer (hey, it's MY website. I'll say what I want!)
Prone to singledom infused minor bouts of depression, which he is all too happy to divulge with his readers.
The list goes on.
Frankly, if you like my stuff, you'll LOVE his. You'll get a feel for the other side of the fence with respect to going out to dinner. If I get a chance, I'd love to buy this man a drink and give him a couple of stories of my own.
Finally, I'm watching the Billboard Awards, and I gotta say: seriously? Chris fucking Brown? He hit his woman - Rihanna, no less. He gets best R&B artist of the year? Do people not remember his past indescretions? I'm surprised he didn't thank his attorneys in his acceptance speech. I know I'm late to the party with this, but it just gets my ire up. Guys who beat their lady are weak and insecure, and there's no excuse for taking it out on anyone except a brick wall or the heavy bag at the gym. Fuck you, Brown. I honestly hope you read this. Go die painfully.
Keep fighting the good fight, my friends.
It was cold, and a little wet, and I broke my old Kemper binding clean off my Mambo board, but I got drunk with friends, and I still got to go snowboarding so all in all I had a great Monday. My Tuesday was somewhat hungover, but not nearly as bad as my associate, Dave. Jules, I think the only person NOT dressed up in offensively retro ski gear, had never experienced a Gaper day. Indeed, one older skier saw all 150 of us and exclaimed "Who ARE you guys?!"
This is why I'm here. It's all about the ski; the fun of the hill, and sharing the insanity with friends. We lost a lot of good people this winter as a community, and days like yesterday are the days I'll remember when I'm old and maybe too decrepit to ride 85 days a year. I may not be filling the bank account, but I'm truly happy. I know that the percentage of friends outside of Whistler that can honestly say that can't be higher than 10%.
Speaking of people I get on with... I've known about Waiter Rant for a couple of years when I received his first book for Christmas, but I finally got around to checking out his blog, the one that started it all. I started at the very beginning, and as of now I'm at April 15th, 2008's entry. An anonymous writer in his late 30s, "Waiter" tells all the sordid stories that I know only too well. It's funny; the more I read, the more I realise how many idiosyncrasies I share with the protagonist:
He serves tables, I tend bar.
A penchant for whisky, fancy words, red heads, and a good book.
A fantastic writer (hey, it's MY website. I'll say what I want!)
Prone to singledom infused minor bouts of depression, which he is all too happy to divulge with his readers.
The list goes on.
Frankly, if you like my stuff, you'll LOVE his. You'll get a feel for the other side of the fence with respect to going out to dinner. If I get a chance, I'd love to buy this man a drink and give him a couple of stories of my own.
Finally, I'm watching the Billboard Awards, and I gotta say: seriously? Chris fucking Brown? He hit his woman - Rihanna, no less. He gets best R&B artist of the year? Do people not remember his past indescretions? I'm surprised he didn't thank his attorneys in his acceptance speech. I know I'm late to the party with this, but it just gets my ire up. Guys who beat their lady are weak and insecure, and there's no excuse for taking it out on anyone except a brick wall or the heavy bag at the gym. Fuck you, Brown. I honestly hope you read this. Go die painfully.
Keep fighting the good fight, my friends.
Monday, May 14, 2012
End of an era.
Well folks, it's been over a month. So much has happened. I went to England to visit family with Jules, which was fantastic; I even managed to catch up with some old school friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in almost ten years! The final Telus sponsored Ski and Snowboard Festival came and went, and I had a blast. Thank you, Press Pass! Though I couldn't see the sheepdogs at either their outdoor show or at their late night extravaganza at Bill's due to work, there is no doubt that this was my finest yet. Check out my blog entries for the OFFICIAL! website, where I covered State of the Art's Opening Party and the Olympus Pro Photographer Showdown.
Speaking of work, I have a new job. My previous restaurant shut down at the end of april, so now see me doing all kinds of food and drink stuff at La Bocca! Seriously. It's awesome. But not till next week; I'm in England. Again.
Yeah. More news; less fun. My little sister Ali lost a long battle with cancer days after her 22nd birthday. The funeral will be this Thursday, and it sounds like it's going to be one hell of a turnout. I'm in the middle of writing a little something to say, but I don't think I'll be able to read it, especially not now that it may well be standing room only. Which, when you think about it, is fuckin' awesome. The impact of her merely existing and getting through this horrible chapter the best way she could, with dignity, left people awestruck. It's tough, but like I've been saying the whole time: if she'd been healthy her entire life, and been fatally struck by a car just after her 22nd birthday, we'd be totally unprepared. At least we've known that this could have been a possibility from the outset.
BUT! the important part. My mom, in her ingenious way, has organised a minisite where you can donate to CLIC Sargent, a charity that helped Ali all the way through and did wonderful things for her. Go to her site and give what you can, and/or share it with people. At the time of posting, including offline funds, my mom has raised over 4000 GBP (I don't have the sign for the Pound). Only a couple of days remain to help, and it'd really mean a lot.
OK. Enough sad stuff. Go to awesomepeoplehangingouttogether.tumblr.com/ and cheer yourself up.
Monday, April 9, 2012
High Streets, Best Sellers, and All Night Parties
For those of you unaware, I am in England. I'm visiting family but there is definitely something that I had forgotten about. That is, the ubiquitous commercial shopping zone, or the "high street." Why ubiquitous? For starters, every town (almost every neighbourhood) has one, and it consists of the same businesses: a pharmacy (Boots), a coffee chain (though not Starbucks; the cafe du mode is Costa) and a smattering of interchangeable department stores (Debenhams, Marks & Spencer, John Lewis, and so forth) with a couple of 'greasy spoon' diner/cafeterias, usually named something agreeably twee like Auntie Mae's Kitchen (really, who has an aunt Mae except Spider-Man?), a dodgy-as-shit pub called The Old Shield or Broadmoors, and so forth. You could be dropped, blindfolded, out of a helicopter into the centre of one of these pedestrianised areas, and unless you had been there before, you would have no idea where in England you were without asking someone. It's cookie cutter
The reason I bring this up, besides the obvious globalisation/capitalist-ish nature (something that could be discussed at exceeding length), is the fact that these streets seem to attract the worst group of people in the country. The homeless, the crazy/misunderstood, teen gangs (active only at night) and trashy moms with 4 bratty kids in tow, another very much on the way, and a cigarette in her hand (this is something I actually witnessed this week). How does this apparent draw to the city centre become such a haven for the fringe groups of society? It's certainly not anywhere I would choose to be on certain nights, because I am fatally allergic to knives. (Just the pointy bit; I can still put peanut butter on toast.)
Why don't the chains do something - after all, it's their windows being graffitied and urinated on, their good name sullied by back-alley violence and drunken shenanigans (something I am sure you know I am not averse to, but come on!) Surely they could put up some money toward a countrywide task force, posted in these roads to deter the "problem citizens". I don't know. I just tend to forget about these things until I come back to England. (At least my mom has moved; at the old house, I would never leave because of our proximity to one of the roughest - and ugliest - boroughs in Portsmouth, which is really saying something!)
While I'm over here, I started reading the Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins. Yes, I started because the movies came out, no, I don't have any intention of seeing the movies until the books are completed. Yes I am a bandwagonner; no, I don't care. This is set to be the next big - no, HUGE thing to happen to the literary world, and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss out. I put so much stock in this and not, say, the Twilight "series", for one simple reason...
There is not enough space on the internet, nor time in my life to express my abject indifference to Stephanie Meyer's "contribution" to literature. Never mind that vampires don't "glitter" in the sun, they fucking die, according to - literally - every other pop culture reference, but Meyer (I know I spelled it wrong, and if that's the biggest inaccuracy you can find with MY writing, then read on) is apparently incapable of writing prose that is, for want of a better word, "good".
Exhibit A: this tumblr site chronicling so many, many things wrong with Twilight, from redundant narrative, to plot holes like the chick's "monthly gift" being tougher to deal with for a "vampire" than an actual injury on her, and so on. But how do I know that the Hunger Games Trilogy will be better? Because I've only read the first 20-odd pages (the free version on Kobo) and I already care about the characters and the story that has emerged. If you've read it, the inhabitants of District 12 are just getting to the Main Square in anticipation of the name draw for the Reaping. In that single sentence, I've admitted more knowledge about the plot than I even care about with Twilight, some love story analogy that falls at the first hurdle. I'm BUYING a Kindle to read the rest of the HG books.
Man, that felt good to get off my chest.
OH! And Telus Fest, possibly the last one ever, starts this Friday, the day after I return to Whistler. I might, maybe, possibly, have a press pass for the whole shebang (through MVRemix, the music website I write for). So if that happens, I'm gonna be one busy son of a bitch, the nights I'm not working. I'll be writing about the shows I can get to for them, but if I can get to the Fashion show, the Photographer's showdown and so forth, I'll do my best for you here. Check out the lineup here.
Because sleep is for May.
The reason I bring this up, besides the obvious globalisation/capitalist-ish nature (something that could be discussed at exceeding length), is the fact that these streets seem to attract the worst group of people in the country. The homeless, the crazy/misunderstood, teen gangs (active only at night) and trashy moms with 4 bratty kids in tow, another very much on the way, and a cigarette in her hand (this is something I actually witnessed this week). How does this apparent draw to the city centre become such a haven for the fringe groups of society? It's certainly not anywhere I would choose to be on certain nights, because I am fatally allergic to knives. (Just the pointy bit; I can still put peanut butter on toast.)
Why don't the chains do something - after all, it's their windows being graffitied and urinated on, their good name sullied by back-alley violence and drunken shenanigans (something I am sure you know I am not averse to, but come on!) Surely they could put up some money toward a countrywide task force, posted in these roads to deter the "problem citizens". I don't know. I just tend to forget about these things until I come back to England. (At least my mom has moved; at the old house, I would never leave because of our proximity to one of the roughest - and ugliest - boroughs in Portsmouth, which is really saying something!)
While I'm over here, I started reading the Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins. Yes, I started because the movies came out, no, I don't have any intention of seeing the movies until the books are completed. Yes I am a bandwagonner; no, I don't care. This is set to be the next big - no, HUGE thing to happen to the literary world, and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss out. I put so much stock in this and not, say, the Twilight "series", for one simple reason...
There is not enough space on the internet, nor time in my life to express my abject indifference to Stephanie Meyer's "contribution" to literature. Never mind that vampires don't "glitter" in the sun, they fucking die, according to - literally - every other pop culture reference, but Meyer (I know I spelled it wrong, and if that's the biggest inaccuracy you can find with MY writing, then read on) is apparently incapable of writing prose that is, for want of a better word, "good".
Exhibit A: this tumblr site chronicling so many, many things wrong with Twilight, from redundant narrative, to plot holes like the chick's "monthly gift" being tougher to deal with for a "vampire" than an actual injury on her, and so on. But how do I know that the Hunger Games Trilogy will be better? Because I've only read the first 20-odd pages (the free version on Kobo) and I already care about the characters and the story that has emerged. If you've read it, the inhabitants of District 12 are just getting to the Main Square in anticipation of the name draw for the Reaping. In that single sentence, I've admitted more knowledge about the plot than I even care about with Twilight, some love story analogy that falls at the first hurdle. I'm BUYING a Kindle to read the rest of the HG books.
Man, that felt good to get off my chest.
OH! And Telus Fest, possibly the last one ever, starts this Friday, the day after I return to Whistler. I might, maybe, possibly, have a press pass for the whole shebang (through MVRemix, the music website I write for). So if that happens, I'm gonna be one busy son of a bitch, the nights I'm not working. I'll be writing about the shows I can get to for them, but if I can get to the Fashion show, the Photographer's showdown and so forth, I'll do my best for you here. Check out the lineup here.
Because sleep is for May.
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