Lost Winter

As I walk down the dull grey streets

I see the snow flake of a lost winter descend

I look into its rough crystalline form

its jagged beauty

I float amongst its azure spearheads

sharp glistening chaos

it pierces me

fills me

it's part of me

I too am chaos

crystalline flesh and icy bone

It/I begin to melt away

I drip down the cold spikes

I flow perfectly through forming cracks

I am a torrent now

I rend apart my icy world with divine purpose

It's done

I'm back

Meat and bone again

Standing on the concrete scabs that conceal healthy earth

Fetid dead water oozes through the gutters

Black poisonous blood pouring over the scab

Polished metal lice scurry down the long scars

antennae waving, shiny metal chitin

they puff out smoke, their vaporous feces

I breath it in

Poison blood coats my shoes

It's all trying to enter me

Violate me

It wants to remove the memories

of my last lost winter

I breath out ice on my breath

to exorcise these demons

And I walk away

To look for my lost winter.

Butchers

We desperately need satirists, without them who will butcher our sacred cows?

Tailspin

We are not going to make it as a species, the way we live is driving us straight towards extinction, and we possess not the will or the patience to avoid this fate. 

This path to destruction is fueled by humanities bottomless greed, enough is never enough for anyone. We want it all and we want it right now, and there are people waiting to give it to us so long as we don't ask how they acquired it. They in turn are fueled by their own greed. There is infinite greed coming from a growing number of people, and only so much to go around. This is not a sustainable way of life, not socially, not economically, and not ecologically. 

We have seen the social results of this greed already. Not long ago empires stripped other peoples of their wealth and well being to satiate the greed of their own populace. Many of the wars and conflicts around the world are the inevitable outcome of this greed driven imperialism. This imperialism takes new forms today, large business entities exploit poorer nations today for labour or resources, and by doing so cause immeasurable harm. 

green algal bloom in the Irishtown Road Reservoir, NB

Ecologically we see what our greed and recklessness has wrought. Once clean reserves of fresh water turned into putrid algae blooms. We corrupt even the air we breath.

Economically we have lived beyond our means for too long. We stand right now on the precipice of a great shift in our world, even those living in the most powerful nations in the world are slated to feel the sting of our latest failure. Even with this reality slowly setting in, greed still prevails in every where it can be found. Whether in the imaginations of the lowest individuals, or in the actions of the groups that make up the upper echelons of society.   

This state of affairs will result in disaster one way or another. Whether it ends with us wiping each other out for a sliver of land or a glass of water, or whether it ends with the planet that we depend on stamping us out of existence, it does not matter. How things are now will end, they will end badly, and we will end with it.  

Don't worry I'm not armed.

He stole my black book

He punched her in the eye

Why can't I shake this feeling

that I want the whole world to fry?

Stupid.

The eye is backwards and upside down.
We are never happy with what we have

Intelligent Design my vestigial tail.

These truths are no longer self evident.

I don't want anyone to follow me, believe in me, or worship me.
If I wanted to lead something, I'd get a dog.

Shitting on Ayn Rand

Hello ladies and gentlemen, I have something to ask you, and I insist that you respond. Actually I'm going to give you a scenario and then a question, so here it is:

I would crap on that.

You have been hiking for hours along an unfamiliar trail, when suddenly you feel the stirrings of what is possibly the most unpleasant bowel movement you will ever experience. You continue further down the trail trying to find a comfy looking out of the way spot to relieve yourself, unfortunately you can't seem to find a spot that isn't occupied by some variety of thorny vegetation. Luckily during your desperate search, you happen to spot an outhouse in the distance. You rush as fast as you can to the outhouse, open the door and rush in. You are surprised to find that the outhouse is rather clean, unusually so for an outhouse and rather pleasant smelling, and then you spot a sign right next to the toilet paper dispenser. The sign reads, "Below you in the hole lies the cleaned and polished bones of Ayn Rand, famed author." You are surprised by what you read, but regardless of your surprise you still need to defecate. Yet you know that you have just enough time to get outside to evacuate your bowels in a nearby blackberry bush. What do you do? Take the biggest bender of your life over the Earthly remains of Ayn Rand in comfort and privacy, or jump into the black berry bush and try your luck?

I would say screw it and drop the kids off at The Ayn Rand Community Center pool.   

Appearance is Reality

In a world of dreams

everything is what it appears to be

while nothing is what it seems

Appearance is Reality

Lips and tongue set in made up faces

spewing out soothing hatred

for sewn up ears to fill up empty spaces

Appearance is Reality

A family of strangers laugh and grin

you're welcome to their table

just be a stranger and you're in

Appearance is Reality

Virtuous pride so strong and right

leads us not astray

as it takes us to the night

Appearance is Reality

Sickly children with sickly smiles

fill the coin purses full

fulfilling sick men's wiles

My Return

I missed you.

Hello, it has been awhile hasn't it? Don't worry I didn't forget about you, after all only three people are following me and it's hard to forget three people. So yes I have returned, been busy with work and a new relationship and when I took the time to write I was working on some stories, one of which is complete and will be posted soon. 

Now that I have time however and am firmly seated in my chair I'm ready to post again! Now this post is going to start off rather nerdy at first, please bear with me it won't last. 

So I love video games (confession I game more than I write), and on occasion I read about gaming news. While engaging in this ritual of mine recently I came across a story about a small developer, Mojang AB, being threatened with a lawsuit by a much larger publisher, which happens to be Zenimax Media. To those who aren't in the know, and for those who have better things to do than research useless crap, Zenimax Media is the parent company of Bethesda Softworks, who happens to be the developer behind The Elder Scrolls series. A series which happens to be a massive cash cow for Zenimax.

What are they suing Mojang for? The fact that the newest game they are developing right now is called Scrolls. Do you see it? The Elder Scrolls, and Scrolls! Do you see the blatant abuse of the law occurring right before our very eyes? Oh you don't? Well you must have at least a modicum of common sense then. 

That's the thing though, the law isn't always about what makes sense or works to promote good. In the above case for example Zenimax has to protect their intellectual property, there is an obvious similarity  between the title "The Elder Scrolls" and "Scrolls". In the eyes of the law this might actually have traction, regardless I can't help but feel that Zenimax is trying to steal from Mojang and using something as trivial as one word as an excuse. That is what it feels like to me, it feels like theft, like Zenimax is guilty of the very thing they are crying out about. Zenimax is being proactive of course about protecting their intellectual property, but really will any harm come from a small independent studio using one word out of three to name a game which bares absolutely no resemblance to The Elder Scrolls franchise?  The games don't even occupy the same market, the newest game in the Elder Scrolls franchise is probably going to make more in console sales (Xbox 360, PS3) than on PC. Not to mention that Scrolls will probably be exclusively digital download, which means you won't find it on store shelves. The chance of any harm coming to The Elder Scrolls franchise due to Scrolls is minimal given its fame. However very real harm will come to Mojang AB and its small team if this goes to court. It will hurt them by costing them a ton in legal expenses, and cause unknown amounts of stress. We also know that costly and lengthy legal battles can take a human toll as well, one that we can't measure. Zenimax and Bethesda will be insulated from this human toll by a crack legal team, but given Mojang's size they won't have that luxury. 

This is just one example of course of how the law, while it is always "just", isn't always humane. Perhaps a subject that I will go into more at a later date.         

   

Lighten up, you'll Live Longer.

Sideways Kung Fu monkey is unrelated to this post.

I got a new job recently, and my new job description is officially Spice Blending Technician. Sounds very official, of course the more accurate description would be, guy who pours a bunch of crap (crap as a catch all for stuff, not feces) into a giant blender and mixes it all together. You whack a sloth in the head a few times with a mallet and it could  still do my job. Given that my previous comments just positively oozed enthusiasm you might have guessed that I don't derive much pleasure from my job, and in that you would be correct. Though you wouldn't be at the same time, as I do find ways to make my new job very entertaining. 

Today for example I was going to drop something off at another department in the building to be picked up on the morrow by the individuals who worked there. Along with this item, which had a rather southern flare to it, I drew a charming depiction of a happy little cowboy exclaiming yehaa rather enthusiastically. I also gave him a mustache, see below.

That's one happy cowboy.

Sorry I was mistaken, it's a Happy Cowboy Mustache.

Anyway, I decided to show my happy cowboy to my supervisor (I see your mind is in the gutter), who I knew would get a kick out of it because he's even less mature than I am. Which as a side note, makes him a pretty awesome supervisor.  Well he did laugh, but then he grimaced as he realized that my happy little cowboy was going to pay a visit to someone in another department. This someone apparently was entirely without a sense of humour, or was a cowboy who would take offense to my crude rendering, I can't remember which though. Doesn't matter.

I made a few jokes about sticks being up asses, he agreed, but insisted that I keep my mustached happy cowboy to myself. I ever so reluctantly conceded. 

However given that this is my blog, I don't have to concede shit here. So I would like to say that people need to pull their sticks out of their puckered buttholes and lighten up. It would make many people much more happy, including many a cowboy.

Interview with Evil pt 2

Once again I have another exert from a story that I've been working on; which I am pleased to say is almost finished. Please enjoy and I apologize for my long absence.  

After seven grueling hours, three stopovers, an hour waiting in line at U.S customs for a cavity search that luckily never came (I'm a paranoid flier), and a tortuously hot cab ride through a Texan summer. I arrived at 2050 West Gray Street, which it turns out is a Starbucks, across from another Starbucks. Perhaps it was the stress that the ordeal of my hasty travel had brought on, or maybe it was the unbearable heat, but I felt like I had arrived at a place of power. Like a Ley Line ran right under my feet and straight through these two coffee shops that were separated by nothing more than four lanes of traffic.

     "It's nothing that fancy you know." A familiar ragged voice rang from behind me. "It's just two Starbucks across from one another."

     I turned quickly to be greeted by a visage of filth, a man as ragged as his voice sat before me, his clothes were tatters and a large dirty beard framed his greasy face. I struggled to speak but stumbled on my words, the unkempt man wasted no time interjecting,

     "Go on inside and get yourself something cold to drink, you'll get your interview." I hesitated trying to push out a response, "Go on now." The unkempt man gave me an order and despite his appearance and bearing I decided it best to listen.

     Only once I was inside the Starbucks ordering my iced venti Chai Tea Latte with an extra pump of Chai did it hit me that I was entirely insane for coming all the way from British Columbia to talk to a homeless man with dirty facial hair. I decided to leave quickly once I had my drink and put the Starbucks on 2050 West Gray Street, Houston, and the whole state of Texas behind me as soon as possible.

     This of course would never happen, that wouldn't make for a good story after all. Instead of making a quick get away I ended up being stopped by a familiar, sinister voice.

     "Going so soon? Didn't you want that interview?" The voice felt like it grabbed me by the collar and yanked me right around. Right around to face a grinning man shaved clean, only his raven black eyebrows were intact. His jutting chin shot out at me, and his sharp cheek bones made him look more skeleton than meat. He was wearing what appeared to be a suit of black and blood red worth more than I made last month, and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark rounded sun glasses. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I stared at him dumbly.

     "Go on outside, it's a beautiful day and I'd rather be out enjoying it during our little pow wow." The only response I could think up was a half hearted affirmation. We sat down outside, I felt the confusion scrawled across my face while I stared at the stranger sipping what appeared to be a steaming cup of coffee. I broke the silence.

     "What happened to-"

     "The disgusting homeless man who never heard of a comb?" I shook my head in response, "Gone."

     "Gone?"

     "Gone, I didn't need him anymore, so he's gone." The stranger spoke coldly.

     "Gone where? Did you do someth-"

     "Are we going to do this interview? You're not getting any younger after all. And you do have bills to pay; I'm also not the patient type, so it's in both our interests to get going." Something in the pit of my stomach churned and I knew that pursuing further into the fate of the bearded man was not wise. I quickly fumbled through my satchel and dug out my note book and pen.

     "First who are you? I mean the call I received-" The stranger interjected again.

     "I'm the devil." My stomach churning sense of fear made way for a brain tickling sense of disbelieve.

Interview with Evil

I decided to try out something new and post a short story I started writing a few days back, just a work in progress whose working title is Interview with Evil.

     People look to all sorts of sources for advice on how to live their lives properly and justly. They turn to inspirational speakers, media personalities, gurus, and religions. People ask themselves what would Jesus do? What did Oprah have to say again last night? And what were the ingredients in that cleanse that Dr. Oz was pushing last show?

     It's fairly common practice to look to sources of strong moral character for guidance, but I find we have as much to learn from the worst examples as well. The alcoholic at the bar, the wife beater who we read about in the paper, and the politician who becomes embroiled in scandal. All can teach us something.

     With this idea in mind I set out to find an individual who could give me evil's slant on the moral compass, with the intended end of taking something positive away from an extreme negative example. I ended up going to prisons across the country searching for someone who could fill the roll of "expert on evil". It all proved futile however, either the individuals I talked to were too crazy to follow my line of questioning, or they just looked like animals in a cage following some sick instinct. I wondered, where are all the evil geniuses you see on crime shows that take investigators on a wild goose  through a maze of intrigue, depravity, and violence? I ended up cursing my stupidity for buying into the trite fictional world of the crime drama, and lost hope of ever finding my perfectly evil subject.

     However fate didn't intend for me to trash this topic, it yearned for me to succeed, and to facilitate this I received a strange phone call no more than an hour after I had sat down to brainstorm new ideas. The voice on the other end was ragged, worn out and it said,

     "If you want your interview, go to 2050 West Gray street in Houston Texas within twenty four hours. Look for the unkempt man with the beard."

     Before I could speak a word in response to these odd demands the caller quickly hung up. I was perplexed, curious, and somewhat compelled to follow through with the callers demands. Before I was ready to do anything however I had to know if it was some sick joke, so I dialed the number that had come up on the display, all I received was a message stating that the number I dialed was out of service. At that point I sat at my desk staring at the wall wondering just how crazy one would have to be to pursue such a lead all the way down to Texas. I decided I was just crazy enough.

Everything I can do she probably does better.

She's even better at drawing than I am.

My girlfriend beats me at everything. Even things that I thought I was good at, she beats me at. Hell she could probably even beat me up. 

Things she does better than me:

- Shooting hoops, I blame my depth perception

- Wrestling, I swear I'm not letting her win

- Origami, this one hurts because it's in the my blood.

- Rock Band, I own it and suck at it, best 150 dollars I've ever spent

- Racing games, even when she manages to hit the wall dozens of times.

- Tanning and she's Dutch.

- Braiding hair (I'm sensitive about this one)

- Going around in circles really fast

- She's better at formatting paragraphs on her blog, or she would be if she had a blog.

That's a lot of stuff right there, why it's almost everything! At the very least it's the stuff that is very important in life. So because I am becoming utterly and totally depressed reading out that list I've decided to make a list of things that I know I am good at and take particular pride in.

Things that I am good at:

This cat has nothing on me in the napping department.

- I'm good at charades, hell I'm the John Rambo of charades.

- Napping, I kill at napping.

- Eating, I'm eating right now.

- Lounging around, I am a master at sitting on my ass.

- Asking where the washroom is in French, I never ever am lacking for a washroom when I stay in Quebec.

I guess the lesson to be learned here is that you can't be good at everything but everyone's good at something, or that no matter how well you do their is always someone better so don't try.

My Little Buddies Pt. Deux

So when I last wrote about my Little Buddies, those tasty little satsuma mandarins with joy filled hearts, they were at the mercy of some sick individual whose soul is as black as tar.

However I have good news, my surviving Little Buddies have managed to escape, in quite the most colourful manner I should mention. They even sent me a picture to commemorate their escape, and it's quite dramatic to say the least.  

Mr. C on Tolerance

Strange Obsession with Genitals

I came to a rather disturbing realization the other day. My people, Chinese people that is, love penis.

Yup those are penises. I don't know what else to say.

They eat it, they powder it then eat it, they powder it then put it in pills, and they probably drink it in their tea (unconfirmed, don't wanna confirm it).  They do all this because they believe that consuming penis will make them more virile, help with their circulation, or fulfill some other bogus claim that has its roots in a time when people still wiped their ass with leaves.

Granted traditional Asian medical practices have put us on to some pretty cool stuff, like ginseng for example which actually does have some proven beneficial properties. The successes of these traditions though don't make up for the mistakes or the silly superstitions that spring out of them.

One Giant Sausage Party

According to a recent study done by National Geographic they were able to determine that the most average person in the world is twenty eight years old, male, and is of Han Chinese descent. Now that is cool and slightly frightening but why exactly are there so many bloody Chinese males in their late twenties floating around?

What China may look like in the year 2020.

Well the reasons are many but one of the major contributing factors, and the focus of this part of the post, is probably sex-selective infanticide. The short and terrible of it is that a child may either be aborted as a fetus or killed as a infant simply because they weren't the sex that the parents preferred. The reasons why anyone would do this are many, and all are pretty god-damned dim witted, so going through them would be pretty pointless.

Anyway this barbaric practice may have led to the current ratio of 113 males to every 100 females in China. This would officially make China the biggest sausage party on Earth, and according to estimates by the year 2020 there could be 35 million surplus males in China.

As a side note, economists have predicted that the period onward from 2020 is going to see a lot of growth for Kleenex and Vaseline in the Asian market, if you don't already have money invested in those products I suggest getting in now.

SIDE NOTE: While Google image searching for a funny image that captured the spirit of the term sausage party I had failed to set my search filter to strict. Never ever search for the term sausage party without your filter set to strict, just don't do it.

I'm not Going to Take it Anymore

I love the parts of tradition that bring families together and helps them celebrate the positive aspects of their culture. I do my best to be open to what I could learn from another culture, and I've grown as a person because of it. But I'm not a tolerant or open person when it comes to traditions that do more harm than good.

There are species being pushed to the brink of extinction so that a bunch of people with more money than brains can put powdered dick in their morning tea.

There are countries around the world where innocent lives are extinguished so that a family can have a son to pass on a name.

These practices and many others like them are simply sick and barbaric, and one defense that is constantly brought up by supporters of such barbarism is that it's tradition. Well guess what, lynching black people used to be a tradition too, but that got thrown out when people realized that lynching anyone is a pretty dick move. We need to look at these traditions that we hold dear and ask, "Is this conducive to creating a functioning compassionate society, or is it leading to countless numbers of needless deaths?"  

If you end up going with the latter, then maybe it's time for a change.

My Little Buddies

I don't think that I can ever eat an orange again. I just couldn't bear it, my guilt would drive me over the deep end. 

The joy brings tears to mine eye.

Before you go and start believing that I may have come unhinged just hear me out. Today while working away whistling happily to myself I happened upon a bag of tangerines, whose brand name was Little Buddies and the bag was adorned with a picture of three very merry looking  little tangerines. They were so joyous and gay, one was dancing, while another laughed, and the third was just smiling at his friends. They were so full of life, of hopes and dreams. They looked like they were ready to conquer the world, with "friendship!" as their battle cry and mirthful laughter as their weapon. If someone were to create a contest in which contestants had to most accurately portray the joys of life and incredible mirth, our Little Buddies would beat the Dalai Lama like a red headed step child. No joke.

This is where my dilemma comes in, how could I devour something so cheerful? When I think about eating one of them I just imagine his little look of bliss turn into a twisted face of abject horror as he realizes that I've just consumed his frontal lobe. It leaves me feeling more than a bit guilty. 

Why can't getting my daily allotment of vitamin C be more easy and less guilt ridden?

UPDATE! June 11th, 2011

This morning some cruel and thoughtless, nay I should say monstrous, human being sent me this picture with the words, "Thought you might find this funny..." in the email.

OH GOD NO!

I am horrified and speechless as I stare at this image straight out of my worst nightmares. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go and cry while sitting in the fetal position.

Detestable Delectables

There are things out in the world that no one in their right mind would eat, like rail road spikes, live power lines, or my grandmother's terrible, terrible cooking. Then there are foods out there in the world  that are generally accepted as fantastic.

But then there are the foods out there that straddle the line. These foods might look absolutely god awful, like something crawled on your plate and died a slow agonizing death from eating something as equally ugly as it, but these foods can still be tasterific. And today's post ladies and gents is dedicated to two of my favourite foods (of many) which aptly fit the category of what I like to call Detestable Delectables. 

1. The Dim Sum Treat

BOCK!?

For those of you not in the know Dim Sum is essentially Chinese brunch, but instead of eating eggs Benedict and washing it down with a nice mimosa, we eat different kinds of proteins stuffed into dumplings and wash it down with cheap Chinese green tea. Which I'm pretty sure means that it has been cut with something toxic that will either render me blind or dead. 

Anyway, we don't just eat dumplings though, we also eat sticky rice, which is various proteins shoved into steamed rice, black bean steamed short ribs, and one of my favorite all time items, chicken feet.

So here is the skinny on these skinny little treats.

Pros:

- Fried or steamed, sometimes both, then simmered in black bean sauce. Pure awesome.

- They are all flavour, as you'll mainly just be eating chicken skin, and everyone knows that the skin is the best part.

- If you are full and you have two left you can always dance them across the table, or if you only have one you can always use it to traumatize a small child. Both of these things I have done, and they are fun, fun, fun!

Cons:

- It's kind of morbid eating something that is clearly and easily identified as having come from a chicken. 

- It's a guilt trip thinking that you are eating the feet of a now amputee chicken, less so when you realize that the rest of him probably went the same way, or more so I suppose. Crap now I feel like a jerk.

- Try not to think about where those feet may have been when they were still attached to the chicken... You thought about it didn't you?

- It's feet for fucks sake, who the hell would choose to eat feet? Besides me?

2. No it's Not.

Another one of my favourites from my childhood is a dish that is very close to my heart and the hearts of literally billions of people around the world, congee.

Hmmm that looks... Wait what the hell is that?

Now congee, which is actually known by many names in many languages, is at its most basic level nothing more than a small amount of rice that has had the ever living shit cooked out of it. If you ever over cooked rice you know that it tends to get a little mushy, and if you took that mushy rice and cooked it further then you eventually would get congee. Now either during or after the cooking you would add all sorts of lovely and not so lovely ingredients to the mix. Ingredients like salted fish, green onion, mushrooms, chicken, and just about anything else that you might have in the kitchen. Which makes sense because congee was eaten largely in the past as a famine dish because China doesn't have a real stellar history of taking great care of its people, shocking to say the least. 

So here is the low down on the this lowly dish.

Pros:

- It's tasty.

Cons:

- In some of the languages that have a name for congee, that name translates out to "rice gruel". There is a reason for this, it looks like gruel. It is seriously one of the most ugliest things you will ever eat, or won't eat given my enthusiastic endorsement of the dish.

- It has the consistency of warm, chunky snot. If that isn't appetizing I don't know what is.

- They will charge you five dollars for a bowl of the stuff, and it really only takes about fifteen dollars to make a huge pot of it yourself. It's easy to make too, a lobotomized monkey with one arm and severe radiation poisoning could prepare it. Not hard.

- People, if I was not raised eating the stuff, I would sure as hell not willing eat it today.

That concludes our little culinary adventure for today, I hope you enjoyed it and managed to keep your appetite. Stay tuned for the next installment of Detestable Delectables which is my "things that should never have been dunked in a deep fryer" segment. Until later.

The Most Feel Good Nosensical Rant you're likely ever to Read

I'm a bit of a dreamer, an idealist, when people say that something terrible has to take place because that is the way life is I am always quite keen to ask, "Does it really have to be that way?" Then they either go straight to calling me naive and laughing at me like I'm a child.

The grass, it's greener.

The funny thing is that I can say without even a glimmer of doubt that all these people who laugh at me are themselves dreamers, naive, hell even delusional. However the dreams of these individuals are not occupied by images of a better world, one in which compassion is considered a strength, no. The dreams of these individuals are full of brand name consumer electronics, hockey games, money, and women with really great tits. Dreams of things that are supposed to make there lives so much better than they are now.

They search endlessly for the next item, the next good fuck, or the next chemical experience that will give them another shred of happiness. But happiness gathered in this way is like constantly pulling flowers from the garden, eventually they wilt and die. These people end up ultimately miserable when the shine of their new toy wears away. They constantly live in a nightmare of their own creation, chasing fantasies they can never catch.

Sometimes though they catch their fantasy and then they find out that it really isn't as great as they thought it would be, that it really was only a mirage. They find out that porno perfect woman they picked up at the bar actually sucks in bed, or that their families are all a bunch of vultures when they come into that lottery win. And even when things do work, like that brand new 60 inch 3D flat screen they've been dreaming about, the novelty wears off pretty damn quick.

Of course it may sound rather arrogant to say I know this as a fact, and perhaps I'm wrong, but the signs that we all do this surround us every where. And I even do this, though less than I used to, and less and less every day I'm relieved to say.

I've begun recently, after a very long period of some very important lesson, to learn that I am the only one that really controls my own happiness and that it is really naive to think that anything outside of me can change that. And the strangest thing of all is that this slow realization is creeping into every part of my life.

Instead of expecting my job to make me happy, my happiness makes my job enjoyable (or at least more so than before). It makes the hard days and the grumpy customers easier to deal with.

The happiness starting in me makes every nectar soaked kiss with a wonderful girl all the more sweet, even when her hair gets in both our mouths.

This happiness makes me more open to let the world show me what opportunities are out there for me to find, opportunities to discover new things about the world and myself.

And I think it's pretty damn naive and foolish to keep looking for happiness in empty places when I can already create it, and I think it would be pretty selfish to keep it for myself.

Charles Bradley: Magical Black Man

Separated at birth?

Charles Bradley is a magical black man, or I should say that he is one to me, and there is a very good reason why this man is my personal Bagger Vance or Ellis Boyd Redding. 

You see when Mr. Bradley really hits those notes, when he really pours out his soul in a song, he mashes up his face just like in the picture to the left, and he ends up looking like one of the California Raisins.

I first noticed this while I was at Starbucks waiting for my venti Chai Tea Latte with an extra pump when I grabbed one of those little "Pick of the Week" iTunes

cards they give out for free. That is the first time I saw Mr. Bradleys wonderfully puckered face,  and almost immediately I mentally shaved him bald, stuck a pair of over sized dress shoes on him, and slapped a bow tie around his neck. Without even giving it a second thought I turned Charles Bradley into Tiny Goodbite, lead singer of the Raisins. Beyond giving me a really good chuckle, the image manage to dig up some interesting memories from my childhood. And this folks is where the Charles to raisin transformation becomes important. 

Me thinks yes.

I didn't grow up rich, or even that well off, so most of the toys I owned were garage sale purchases. Old Transformers, random Lego sets, the occasional comic character, and of course the California Raisins. I couldn't afford to get whole sets of new toys, don't get me wrong I was lucky to even have toys, but I often had to improvise. Believe me trying to come up with a reason why Wolverine was standing face to face with a singing dancing Raisin took all of the muscle my little imagination could muster. Yet imagine I did, and with great joy as well, Wolverine even managed to get his ass kicked more than once by the piece of sentient dried fruit known as Tiny Goodbite Destroyer of Worlds. Ha ha, he could shoot fireballs. Good times.

Anyway, for being able to take me back to so many good memories of care free fun from my youth, Charles Bradley will always be my magical black man. 

Also his music is pretty damn good too.

 

Greatest Hits

Youtube is truly a wretched hive of scum and villainy.

I have a love hate relationship with Youtube, although it tends to veer more towards the hate side of things for the most part. You can imagine that I rarely spend much time there, and it's true I only head that way when I'm feeling particularly masochistic.

Mostly my visits to Youtube are rather painful, but very rarely Youtube manages to do something other than erode the bedrock of my will to live, and when that happens I mark the occasion by bookmarking the page.

So today I've selected four videos which for various reasons have made there way on to my greatest hits list. So enjoy or don't, I mean you might hate Youtube more than me.

Greatest Death in a Badly Dubbed Kung Fu Flick

The movie Iron Monkey is a passable piece of Hong Kong martial arts cinema; the fight scenes are what you expect, the story is overdone, and the dubbing is terrible (which works in its favour actually). So why at any point would this film garner a greatest anything?

Because a dude is offed with a grape.

Yes you read that right, a man is killed with a grape, and you can see it by skipping over to the 5 minute and 55 second mark and watching till 6 minutes and five seconds.

Did you watch it? Awesome isn't it? Death by grape. It's made even better by the look of extreme disappointment on the bad guys face when he realizes that the Iron Monkey didn't fall for his grape attack. Pure comedy gold.

Bonus! Watch from 6 minutes 40 seconds, things get a little ridiculous at that point.

Greatest Example of Homicidal Rage in the Animal Kingdom

Hamsters aren't the most exciting pets, they pretty much just eat, sleep, get fat, and run on that little wheel of theirs. Turtles are cooler. 

Of course there are exceptions to every rule,

I didn't know that hamsters did this, hell the worst I've ever received from a hamster is a little nibble when the little bugger thought my little finger was food. But this evil little hamster, well he loves the taste of flesh, either that or he hates communists and mistook the Russian youths in this video for a bunch of pinkos. Easy mistake to make. 

Greatest Example of Cross Species Nicotine Addiction

Kittens are fantastic, they do cute things, they look cute, and I'm sure that they taste delicious. When they have a crippling nicotine addiction though, well the cute goes real quick and they tend to become tough and stringy. That's why any responsible pet owner will do there best to help their itty bitty kitty kick the habit before it gets this bad,

I think the cute little kitty needs a cute little intervention. 

Greatest Example of AWWWWWW SOOOOOO Cute!

Warning the following video may result in cavities and type 2 diabetes because it's soooooo sweet!

Don't judge me, I just gave you three videos in which people and animals were either attacking or dieing in hilarious ways. So I am allowed at least one of these.

 

OMIGOD SO CUTE! I want one.

The Question that Drives me Hazy.

I have in my life remained stagnant; part of the reason is that I didn't move forward  was because I didn't know exactly who I was or what I believed. I searched for my beliefs in books, in friends, in family, everywhere I could. I made many mistakes along the way, correcting course many times over when I found myself in error. 

Only now do I really feel like I'm starting to discover who I really am, or maybe I always knew, perhaps I've been guiding myself all along. Or have been guided by an internal operating system whose job it was to separate the new and useful beliefs and ideas from those that were junk. 

Regardless, who I am is more clear to me now than ever before. However I'm not there just yet, because a new question, a new conundrum has presented itself to me like a fork in the road where the sign has become worn and illegible from age. 

Is what I've become to believe right? Or is it wrong?

Is what I believe proper conviction or confusion? 

Faithfulness or fanaticism? 

Where do my beliefs stand on the spectrum? 

I ask myself this because I've noticed in my dealings with other human beings that no one really ever asks themselves this question. Well maybe some do, but I've already shown you prime examples of people who obviously fail to look at themselves, and what they believe, critically. 

I don't want to do that, I don't want what I believe to become out of control, I don't want to be a fanatic. I want what I believe to be a source of goodness, of strength, and I want to use my conviction to help others. Before I can do that though I need to know that I'm not infected with the unique (or not so unique) insanity that so many are.

How can anyone be certain, I mean truly certain, that what they believe and what they do because of it is right? How can I know that I won't take a step too far and do something that ends up being against the grain of my very being?

Did you know that Einstein was one of the driving forces behind the beginnings of the Manhattan Project? Einstein was a staunch pacifist, but with Hitlers rise to power in Germany and the threat of Nazi development of the Atom bomb looming, Einstein shed his pacifism to encourage the United States to develop the bomb first. Before his death though Einstein admitted to a long time friend, "I made one great mistake in my life — when I signed the letter to President Roosevelt recommending that atom bombs be made; but there was some justification — the danger that the Germans would make them..."

Without Einstein's interference, the Manhattan Project might never have come to be, and the Allies could have lost the war. Despite this Einstein still greatly regretted what he had done, about how he had to substitute his most closely held belief of non violence for a belief that helped to kill so many people.  

It's not stupid to compare the choices I will ultimately need to make with what Einstein faced, one day what I decide could very well determine the fate of another human being or the lives of many people. 

Or perhaps I'm being overly critical myself, or maybe everyone else simply isn't critical enough., more likely it's a mixture of both. That is why I wish Einstein was alive right now so I could ask him a question,  a question that sometime drives me hazy; am I or the others crazy?

All hail the King!

HAIL! HAIL! HAIL!

Rejoice my fellow serfs for election results are in and as I so aptly predicted (see this) we now have a new Conservative majority  government. 

I would like to congratulate Prime Minister Harper-

Wait sorry, as of this writing I have just received an official government email telling me to now refer to PM Harper as King Harper. So I would like to congratulate King Harper on his majority government, and I would like to say as a new subject that I am very much looking forward to the lavish wedding he will have put together for his son one day. 

I would also like to thank every one who voted for our new monarchy, it's good to see that in this age of "enlightenment" that good old fashion fear mongering, misdirection, and deceit still work on the electorate. All of you Conservative voters showed me that my plans for world domination are still possible.

In the end I am glad that the majority of voters out their decided that a little thing like contempt of parliament concern them. After all, the only MPs that need to be able to do their jobs are Conservative MPs, other duly elected MPs don't need access to information that Conservatives are supposed to give them. Why giving those opposition MPs the ability to do their jobs and work for the voters who put them where they are, would almost be democratic, that simply won't fly in a monarchy.

So in short, good job, keep it up, and don't blow up the world before I manage to die. Now if you'll excuse me I need a very stiff drink.