Showing posts with label Passion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Passion. Show all posts

September 26, 2011

I Used To Write Songs.

So you're a musician.

Well Me too. I have a guitar, a piano, a keyboard, a harmonica, a drum to beat on, annnnnd some spoons. My skill level at each of them? Not great. But I could get better, I swear. Then I could maybe even one day be famous. Quasi-famous? Non-famous? Infamous.

I stopped writing songs when I realized I couldn't sing. This was an unfortunate realization since the songs I wrote were actually pretty good!

The idea of someone possibly falling asleep at night to the melody that you created is pretty special. The thrill of  having someone clinging onto every last lyric of a song that you wrote is especially exciting!  Especially when you can secretly fool them all with some deep, dark & mysterious metaphor in your song that only truly makes any sense to the people you are most intimate with in your life. Or better yet: nobody else in the world but yourself.

The potential for metaphors and symbols and often not making a whole lot of sense makes the art of song-writing a very romantic endeavor. It doesn't matter if you are writing a song about pain, love, life, or death. Heck, even the punkest of punk bands can still write a song that tears at the heartstrings because of the degree of passion put into, say, bringing down the government! But outside of punk rock, a guy can still write a heartmelting song that can truly make the person he devotes it to become short of breath, perhaps a little bit dizzy, and maybe weak in the knees.

The opportunity to create intense admiration (ranging from "just a fan" to "I know all your songs" to "sexually stimulated" to "cyber-stalker" to "roadie/groupie" to "follow me to my van after the gig") from members of your fanbase is also intriguing. With only 3 1/2 minute songs, a musician can gain this kind of power over their audience. Songs that beckon each and every one of its listeners to fall head over heals in love with its creator. Songs that are so incredibly beautiful, sensitive, and tragic that the degree of vulnerability on display with the artist's most inner soul will make even the most straight-faced cold-hearted cynical person weep

These are the songs that I would sing for you. These songs I would dedicate to you.

Dedication. This is what having success in most things comes to in the end. A little luck doesn't hurt either.  Dedication: to tour, to write, to perform, to endure, to put out easily accessible & affordable non-tacky music & merch, and to not sell out.  Any musician seeking fortune or fame has to put in some pretty serious dedication - year after year after STD after year.        
  
Since I no longer write songs, and it is unlikely to ever become a viable vocation for me,  I often think about the other ways that I might be able to get her attention/fill up my days.  In life, don't a lot of people at least try to develop themself into a more dimensional, complex individual? Enroll in a Mediterranean cooking class. Take Tai Chi. Learn another language. It would be sooooo much easier to just be a musician! I think it must be like living in a dreamworld to be a successful musician - especially a lead singer in a band - where alll of those endless, fantastic things happen to you, whether you are drunk or high or not. The mundane routine of playing the same songs while earning little money at dirty little clubs with the same sleezy cocktail waitresses time and time again... WOULD BE GREAT!!! For a while. I can understand how some bands cannot overcome the ennuyeux of similar setlists and drunken fans/cyber-stalkers/roadies borderline harassing them (or begging to get harassed by them). But in the end, I think that the band learns to  evolve and put out incredibly stimulating material less frequently (TOOL, Propagandhi, Radiohead), or else fizzles out completely. For this reason, I guess I just have to be happy that I do not write songs. If I can simply spend some time with people I like that also don't mind wasting their nights away watching these musicians give themselves up for us, then that's fine too. 

SNFU can be credited to the title of this blog:
chapter 110.

August 14, 2011

A D-gree in Intimacy

Or rather:

A Degree of  Intimacy.



Degrees are funny things. They are temperatures,  angles, papers on the wall. They are also distances spread between people or things. i.e. the 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon. It would be a pretty damn' sweet accomplishment to get a Degree in Intimacy though. Maybe even get on the Dean's List (ooooh, you naughty little....!) But in reality, the only recognition a person will ever get with respect to "Intimate Acclaim" is by practical... practice.  Word of mouth? Mouth of passion? Passion with no end.

Where is a person to ever even begin "earning" this kind of accreditation? Highs chool. Over the teenager's  3 year stint, it's not uncommon to get pretty familiar with the one of the simplest shapes of all: conjoined triangles.  Or diamonds.
 
The baseball diamond paradigm of "running the bases" works well for both socially inept engineers-in-the-making and meatheaded-surferboy jocks who are daring to stage their way through the endless exploration of "who they are" during their highschool years. And I think the linearity of the bases analogy works especially well for ~17 year old's because mostly everyone's  lack of experience in intimacy creates a generally level playing field.  It is only normal to expect a linear progression in a relationship as it proceeds from base... to base... to... POP FLY YOUR OUT!!!! Pop your fly open? Nope, the 1st one.

 Without going into the seminal details of each & every "base" (in which I was recently/finally straightened out about), I maintain that going through these steps still remains the best way of developing degrees of intimacy in a relationship. The real trick though is - I think - timing.      Rather than simply expecting to get the Grand Slam by the 2nd date or making a Triple Play maybe 3 months into the relationship, I think it is crucial to progress together at a pace that is comfortable for both (or more?) people carrying on with it.  THAT SAID:  Be more afraid of taking things way too slow than way too fast if you like the person.  And for the love of god, don't miss out on any openings where you might get a chance to steal a base - that is - until your partner cries "FOUL!" And hopefully if that happens, she's not referring to the smell of your balls.


There are so many sexual expectations nowadays. From Cosmo's sexy "how to's" available at every grocery store checkout counter to some of the darkest corners of the internet (no link provided) - it's a wonder how somebody can ever satisfy anybody! Me? I just keep an open mind and try not to look overly-desperate for it.


It's true - intimacy is much more than just sex. The ability to be with that special someone and give yourself up to them completely, to hold them in your eyes with complete vulnerability and to be able to provide them with a sense of wholeness and security is how the truest, most sincere degrees in intimacy are bridged. When that person you're with is at the stage where they are ready to give much of the same right back - you might be able to call it love. But mostly, keep in mind, that I don't have a CLUE what I'm talking about.


Stereotypes. Catholic girls. Hockey jocks. Women with short hair in engineering. Black guys. Punks, injins, gypsies, and thieves. All are bad. Everyone is unique with their own kinks and perversions. You never can know what to expect from any one person (or 2 people, if you are lucky that way).  The most innocent looking 24 year old sweetheart school teacher that lives in the apartment across from you might be submitting her very own sex tape c/w yardstick and plaid skirt for a chance to win SOME BIG TIME MONEY!  And the friendly shop owner down the street may be participating in some form of honour killing for the disgrace that his daughter brought to his family by running off with a white guy. It's all just a big gongshow. So try not to judge. If you can help it. Worry about your own life. And maybe not even about how or when your PANTS are coming off next, but maybe perhaps when the next time that you will see that special someone that fills the hole in your soul. 

Now let's go play some ball.


A final note on intimacy:

Keep it private, keep it exciting, keep it classy, keep it clean. But if you get a little raunchy sometimes - DON'T TELL ANYONE. Or else, film it and let me know that you did.   Don't be afraid to swing more than once, or from a different position. And when you get that out-of-the-park home run, run the bases sssllloooowllyyy. Tenderly. An inch at a time. Grounders are a different story.


I am pretty good at striking out.


chapter 99.

and remember:


July 3, 2011

My Ride to Conquer Cancer



At this time one week ago I was in a tent at Chain Lakes Provincial Park trying to get some much needed shut-eye. 

You see, there was this matter of 109 kilometers between where I woke up that morning and where I had to sleep that night - and only one means of bridging that gap: my bike. Needless to say, this distance on a bike can tire a guy out!

When my Mom was first diagnosed with ovarian cancer in September, everything - and I mean everything - was pretty much a blur.  Including the fact that September was ovarian cancer awarness month.  Including the fact that the leaflets for the Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer were now available for the springtime event.    

It wasn't until February when my Mom was through about 90% of her chemotherapy treatments (that all went reasonably well, thank God) when a friend convinced me that it would be a good idea to register for The Ride. "200 km on a bike? Well, I don't have a bike!"  But then I realized that this was something that I just needed to do. Just as my Mom needed to do her part by conquering cancer - it was now time for me to do it in a different kind of a way.

And this is what it was like...

My Mom joined me at Spruce Meadows on Saturday morning for the opening ceremonies and to watch the 22 hundred of us pedal through the start gates and down the winding road to - well - hopefully somebody near the front knew where we were heading!  My group (Team Paladin West) all crossed the startline together and looked good with our navy blue & sunset golden orange team wardrobe on display for world to see. The weather was mild, our water bottles were filled. It was time to get the show literally on the road. 


The first pitstop was in Okotoks where the the whole town went nuts for us. We had to pedal right through one of the main streets in town so absolutely 100% of the Okotoks population came out to cheer us on and show their support for what we were trying to accomplish. 

After Okotoks I was able to get into a little bit more of a rythm as we started to get a little more spread out. Feeling good, riding with a few of my team mates, we managed to pound back the first forty clicks reasonably well. Close to the 40km mark, my pal Mike found me. He wasn't riding with my team, but rather with is 60 year old father who happens to be  living with cancer. Not only that, Mike's dad had accomplished riding this same 200 km event the previous 2 years! Needless to say, I stopped to get a picture with this cancer crusader & his son at the 40 km pitstop. The next 20 km length of road down to Longview I found to be pretty reasonable. The wind was a little rough, but sometimes in life, you just need to bear down and overcome the more difficult challenges. Plus, there was a really fun hill to go down just prior to pulling into the Longview lunch stop.


At lunch we chilled. We carbed up & hydrated. Longview I learned has excellent jerky but didn't quite get the opportunity to try any out. Time to ride some more.

Some of my good riding buddies were great too keep me going on each day's 60 - 80 km stretch of highway. Pacing is a big part of riding bike, as is stretching, eating, and stopping for pictures. The mountain view for this part of the ride was pretty remarkable. I am sure happy the weather was so terrific...

Day One was nearing completion. They even had a 100km marker in the road. But at this point, the only thing keeping me going was the conversation I was able to have with a truly amazing TPW member as we battled up and pounded through the last few hills.  And finally - camp was in sight. I made it. Now all I had to do was find my bag, sleeping bag, tent, bike rack, change of clothes, shower, food, and beer.  

The amenities at the camp were tremendous. They even offered yoga, acupuncture, and massages. Bike techs, hot showers, live music, and lots of food. (and beer). Some people were in bed before 8 but I somehow was up talking and enjoying my evening til past 10. When I found out that my tent mate was a snorer, it ended up being a pretty late, restless night indeed.


6 AM! GO!!!! My team wished to all start Day 2 of the ride together at 7 o'clock in the morning. Yikes. So, with sore knees, sore everything I was up packing my bags and strolling through the field under a slight drizzle towards the coffee decanter.  By the time I was awake enough to find my way to breakfast, the drizzle...strengthened.

Yup. There it was. Rain. Alllllll morning long. Cold, wet, cold morning. But cha know what?  A miserable morning in the rain is nothing compared to the battles that those living with and fighting against cancer has to deal with. So we did it. Mile after mile. With always that one more hill to climb, we made our ways from pitstop to pitstop.

But as things do, the day brightened up. Every quarter distance traveled on Day 2, the weather also improved by a proportionate amount. So despite having to cycle into harsh northwesterly's and a needly foot-soakening rain, and only slivers of blue sky to motivate us - we made it to Black Diamond (or Turner Valley?) for lunch. Which ever it was, the break here was very welcomed.  By the end of my ~1hr pitstop here, I was even a little bit warm! But I kept the foil wrapped around my feet and my windbreaker on just the same. A handful of people got swept and brought closer to home on this extremely challenging day, but I am proud to say that with the support of my team, my friends, my family, as well as strangers on the road urging me on - I did it. Alllll the way to the finish line, where an emcee announced each rider's name while completing about 220 km of cycling alongside Alberta's Rocky Mountains. What a rush!!!

At the end of the day, there was my Mom. She was waiting there for me in what turned out to be a pretty hot day! It was great seeing her after finishing this pretty huge accomplishment. (My $3315 gets to be directed specifically towards gynecoligic oncology).  The team mates that I crossed the line with were more than happy to take a picture with the person that inspires me - inspires us all - to do what we did over the weekend. Thank you Mom for everything.









Sidenote: please do not be cynical about the usage of funds. I can never say enough how every last dollar makes a difference towards the treatment of any cancer patient. Signing up for ACF events, I am understanding that the participant can choose any of the following areas of oncology for their hard-earned fundraising dollars:

prostate cancer
colon, rectum, GI cancers
gynecologic cancer
head & neck cancer
lung cancer
leukemia & lymphathic cancer
brain cancer
sarcomas
skin cancer
breast cancer
childhood cancers,      
priority cancer discovery fund

So sign up today!!!

The Shopper's Drug Mark Weekend To End Women's Cancers is the last weekend in July  but is in Calgary again. It consists of walking 32 km 1 day or 60 km over 2 days and asks that participants raise $1250 or $2000 for the 1 or 2 day event, respectively. As important is EVERY cause out there, I will be giving this one a miss. Heaven knows there are soooo many causes after all...


Today we celebrated my Mom's birthday at Delux Burger. Nicola Crosbie introduced us to this place by advocating ovarian cancer research at this restaurant in February. Not only was it my Mom's birthday today, but we were also able to celebrate 4 months of my mom being cancer free!

May 23, 2011

Satisfying the Minimum Requirements

Chapter One Hundred

 


A person's goal in life should be not only be to meet -
but to exceed the absolute bare minimum
expectations demanded of them.

A person's goal in life should be to just try and
make it through
the day.





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These two conflicting concepts have been ailing me for as long as I can remember. Even before I had the means of coming up with goals for myself, I was being set down the "right" path with the hope that I may one day "succeed" by "accomplishing" something "worthwhile" in life. Amidst a sea of poverty, class war, judgement & partiality, and competition. Good luck.


For a large portion of my life, I am proud to say that I have adequately achieved at least the minimum requirements for the most important things in my life. I have an adequate social life, adequate education, adequate love life, adequate debt, adequate career prospects, and adequate health. Man, I hate that word now!


What I am getting at here is that maybe a person's own personal standar ds/expectations have a lot to do with his/her personal happiness. And that perhaps a person has only so much will-power OR so much capacity of achieving the standards that they set for them self, say, for a certain time-limit, before that person simply lowers the bar.


Don't do it. Even if you think it's too late for you, stop & think. Really, it's all about perspective, and if you take a few moments to realize your own untapped potential you have just done the hardest part. Once that part is done, the capacity of conquering even your wildest dreams exists inside of you - whether you think you have the time to invest into pursuing those dreams or not.


Don't let sloth, complacency, comfort & security, or fear stop you!!


Recently I finished Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. It's a story about Do-ers and followers. It's a story about what it means to have conviction and pride and not allowing yourself being taken for granted. Just Get'r Done. And not just with respect to the "workl" world either. Once you get that dream job, don't stop there. Work towards conquering that next big conquest. It doesn't have to even be "exciting". You might decide to witness more sunrises, get a haircut, or maybe even something as dull as reading Atlas Shrugged! Call that long-lost friend. Nail that broad. Marry your soulmate. Have the confidence that you can DEMAND something more from this misery called life.


Set your goals and follow through with a plan to achieve them. Idle chit chat? No thank you. Focus. Every single day. One day at a time.

Are the goals too tough to achieve? Completely unattainable? Maybe then - yes indeed - just go ahead and lower your expectations. s e t t l e. Don't worry about that soul mate, dream job, or 2nd language. Be happy with who you are, and don't try and transform yourself into something you are not. Don't bother being the change you want to see. After all - you're not that great.






"Do what you want, but don't do it around me -
idleness and dissipation breed apathy"

Bad Religion

August 1, 2009

I Won't See You Again Tonight, Pt. 7?

Hide. You know you will. Behind those big dark sunglasses you will remain. Nothing, nobody penetrating inward. But the power in those beautiful eyes to conquer and destroy, build and bless --- if they ever come off.

You are up to your neck in everything that makes you so appealing. so sexy. No room for anything else. Saturated and spent. Exhausted yet exhilarated! Living a life that is much to be desired. And shared only with the people in your life that you know that you will always be able to count on. And me? Barely breathing. But still alive! You induce vitality. That is probably why I like being around you so much. You make me feel alive. Who even needs breathing when you feel this alive?!?!

And you will be successful. You will be amazing. Even more than you are now. And you will leave the rest of us all feeling really, really, stupid. But proud to have known you. I feel stupid already. Mostly for feeling like this way about you. Why do any of us do this to ourselves? I suppose it has something to do with you just being so unbelievably breath-taking. Maybe I should really try and remember to breathe...

So consider this. There will come a day when it will be the last day we ever see each other again.

And you will become more perfect as I watch from a little ways back, as those big black sunglasses get dropped - but only for a minute and only from such a distance that that one special person will be able to have those beautiful blue eyes pierce his with full focus.

Or else you will be in my arms and we will be old. Where you dropped those sunglasses years ago and it was only you and me in this world. My eyes forever locked in yours and yours in mine. Those eyes that destroyed me and built me up making me stronger, strongest. Eternal strength.

I only hope that if you ever do look my way into the shadows, in hopes of getting some shade from your sun-filled path, I just don't blink.





So maybe I won't see you tonight. Not in the way I want to see you. Not from the other side of those blinders you sport so fashionably. And maybe you won't see me. But I will be here, waiting. On the bench on the hill, when the sun goes down, when the shades really should be coming off after all...

February 3, 2009

Chapter 41: I Hate Hate Haters

Frick. Another song title rip-off? By that crappy NOFX band too?! Seriously? Hey, if you don't like it, go join Al Quaeda! (shakes angry fist in the air) Another Craig Ferguson quote? Is this guy for real?!

Yes, yes, I am sad to say that this is in fact "for real". But "why?!" you may ask! I'll tell you why! Cuz not enough people do. Do what? Do anything.


Complacency*. Such a horrible descriptor. Complacency = Empathy + Ignorance. It's to be sooo okay with the status quo, that even the idea of thinking about inequality is too much of a pain in the ass. It is simply better to say "Awww, well that's too bad...and I sure as hell won't be the one (to sacrifice my lifestyle) to do anything about it."

So what I am suggesting here is that people lose some level of selfishness. I suggest that they replace it with at least some level of compassion. Or even, just: passion.

I know for certain that some passionate people simply lack the ability to articulate or express their feelings of some issues they really care about. Instead, they might simply wear a yellow "livestrong" wristband, or maybe get a tattoo of Jesus on the Cross, for example. All those dull & monotone people out there should at least try to work on at least some form of communicating themselves for the benefit of some social justice issue they might have at least some interest in. It doesn't matter if it's the environment, animals, racism, sexism, homophobia, AIDS, poverty, political transparency...whatever!

But instead, these very able-bodied individuals go ahead through their daily routine, heads down, mouths shut, fists unclenched by their sides...



But What's With Not Hating The Hate?

My feelings towards hatred are such that, sure, love all around is nice & dandy: hippies & flowers, rainbows & kittens, muffin top sunshine, dooo deeeee doooo daahhhh la-la-la, skip-to-the-loo my cheekey monkeys, n'all. (what?!)

But that's not real life.

At times like these, with such a MESSED up population base, we just have to channel the hatred that currently exists into a more positive direction. We have to use our ANGER to hold those accountable for our underlying unhappiness. And guess who's accountable? The government, of course! I mean, the LOVE has to be reserved for family members & dearest of friends, but the government?! Oh, come onnn! Saying you love your government is like saying reading this blog is more satisfying than the pictures you are looking at in the other internet explorer you have open right now! Being hateful is to be passionate. With such an apparent lack of PASSION, and yet sooo much HATRED, doesn't it just make sense to try and manipulate the one into playing into the other?

So let's bring this back to music once again to try & get my point across:

Atreyu: Hate can be a postive emotion when it forces you to better yourself!

The Offspring: I hate the jocks, I hate the geeks, I hate the trendies, But I also hate the freaks. I hate your band, And I hate TV, I'm only happy when I'm in my misery - It's cool to hate

NoFx: Hatred is not so bad when directed at injustice. You can turn the other cheek, just don’t turn the other way.

Metallica: Don't waste your breath, And I won't waste my hate on you

George Strait: I hate everything

Muse: Hate this and I'll love you

oh, and 1 more that we better not leave out:



"Always Hate Hippies!"
-nofx

So yes, hate, hate away. Hate me for feeling this way, criticize & critique me. Judge me & get angry. Just please do something. REJECT MORE. QUESTION EVERYTHING. NEVER STOP.



*Note:


1. C = E + I
2. E = C * I
3. I = C - E
I think all of these make logical sense.
1. A person that is totally resolved with the life he/she is leading is likely ignorant. This person usually has a very low sense of empathy (maybe even E = 0), which would allow for C = I.
2. A person that loses the ignorance but is aware of the issues will tend to see C decline as E goes up. (inversely proportional relationship)
3. A person who has no decency, sould, compassion or sense of reality in present day society is likely complacent, with essentially E = 0, or I = C.
these might need some refining.

November 10, 2008

I Don't Wanna be a CBC Hippy

(Ch. 49)


Instead of drinking my face off on Halloween a few weeks ago, I went to a presentation that incorporated the (disaster of the) Alberta oilsands and water resource quality & depletion. It was put on by the Council of Canadians and had 3 guest speakers to address the 100 60 year olds in attendance, in addition to the 50 middle-aged people, and finally, the 10 people under 30.

The newly appointed United Nations' Senior Advisor to Water Issues, Maude Barlow, was the first to address the CoC for a 30 minute schpiel on water issues within our borders, and on the global scale. She talked about water as a commodity vs. water as a human right. Since I am currently working for a water utility who capitalizes on people's ability to buy water, it made me wonder more if I could be doing something better with my time. Sure, we all have yummy fresh cold tasty water from each of our taps if we live in the City of Edmonton, all for a relatively inexpensive price. But there are injustices nevertheless. Just look around. There's a difference in the colour of Edmonton lawns in August depending on what your postal code is. Different service lines in different locations might give you a shower with noticeably more pressure than your friend in a different part of the city - yet still, we will pay the same price. And I know that filling the hot tub each time will make a noticeable, if not significant increase to the water bill at the end of the month I fill it. And here in Edmonton, we have it good! I have done some reading on how privately owned & distributed water in various impovershed countries is essentially killing people. A friend recently sent me this link where they discuss how even the rain water was privatized: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZC1LafSxAk. So what to do. I am young and fun and deserve to be going out, getting drunk & having a good time, right? Why is it that so much of my time is spent not drinking and laughing but instead spent thinking about what on earth am I doing here and why other people have ... the lives they have?! What gives?!
Aside from water privatization, Maude Barlow discussed the health impacts from water table contamination from the development in northern Alberta. She talked about the people dying - specifically Aboriginals surviving off of Lake Athabasca or ground water well tables nearby Tar Sands Development - from the rarest forms of cancer. Despite countless statistics and physical evidence, Fort Chipewyan Dr. O'Connor was accused of raising undue alarm by Health Canada. Eventually he had to flee the region if he wanted to keep is license, as the Canadian government denied to drop the charges even after countless reviews of the overwhelming evidence. Oii.

This evidence was reinforced by highly esteemed and well-published academics Dr. David Schindler from the UofA and Andrew Nikiforuk. Each of them had some terrificly horrifying statistics and visuals to share about Canada's water dilemma, especially when the oil industry compounds the degree of the problem like mad. The audience was captivated. Wiebo Ludwig's story was told from a moderately objective look by Andrew Nikiforuk in his book: Sabateur's: Wiebo Ludwig's Fight Against Big Oil so I knew a little about this guy's stance & reputation. As far as these well-trained and highly regarded experts in their fields are concerned, our water is in trouble. Enter Environmental Engineering Degree. Someone Please Help Me Put It To Use. IMPACT, right? We all want to have an impact.
I get out sometimes. It's not all just doom & gloom - reading non-fiction & watching the local news, and listening to various speakers forwarn us of an apocalypse. I get out to Rock Shows. I see bands. Last spring I remember seeing NOFX, SNFU, and a third metal or punk show all within a week. I even got down to Virgin Festival to watch The Hip, Matt Good, and City & Colour last July. I have seen African drumming circles, George Strait, Weird Al, and Celine Dion. It doesn't matter the type of music - as long as I get away from the doom & gloom once in a while. But.
Most recently, I went to a Justin Rutledge concert at Convocaton Hall. There, I was mildly suprised to see that same group of post-hippy burnouts that was at that forum on Halloween: a bunch of babyboomers & enlightened academia-type folk aging upwards of 45, with that arrogance in their stance which suggested that they really enjoy being a b-side alternative type character with better taste in music than the rest of those redneck closed-minded Albertans. This same "Linda Duncan Electorate" from the University area that I saw 3 weeks ago were happily tapping their feet and patting their laps to the beat as Justin splendidly strummed through an amazing set. Big deal? I suppose not. I didn't let that deter me from enjoying the hell out of myself for the duration of the show. Especially since my friend came with me so I didn't have to sit alone! But at the same time, I can't help but think that one day I will be one of these people. Sure, there were other young folks there but there were easily just as many Old Farts there, too. I don't wanna be an Old Fart. That's likely part of the reason why I keep on going back to punk shows!! And with this Iron Ring on my finger now, I am gonna be able to really punch some kids out real good @ the punk shows now too! But in all seriousness, I really do think that for as talented as Justin Rutledge (and his band) is, it's a shame more people weren't aware of his amazingness - like I said - only people that fall into a certain status/class and have that certain air of arrogance about them will be @ shows like this. I don't want to be this same kind of person in 20 or 30 years. I don't want to limit myself relying on CBC Radio for letting me know what the best in Canadian music is, or the most important social and environmental issues that Canadians face. I want to have some hope in our young people, such that they will pay attention to the important issues of the day. I want to find someone that understands the important issues of the day and for that person to try to keep me hopeful! I don't want to be the only less than 25 year old in attendance at a Council of Canadians meeting, and I wish that more common people would be exposed to the greatness of Justin Rutledge, rather than just sparing him for that elitist and enlightened few.
It's past 2. Time for bed.





October 16, 2008

My Unbranding

Ch. 44
swm, 24, enjoys cooking, live music, walking outdoors with his dog, watching prison break and the occasional sit-com. only drinks fair-trade coffee and always uses a cloth bag for groceries. has university education, and is moderately well-travelled. enjoys saving money.


Wow. Well I'm impressed. Where do I sign up for a piece?


Certainly he has his drawbacks. He might still live at home and have an attention span shorter than a monkey on a rock but he has a genuinely (or generally?) good heart and more patience than he probably should. He's a little bit weird & tends to ask more out of people than they are usually willing to give.

As a boy, he discovered punk rock. It seemed to give him something to believe in. There were a lot of shared values presented in the lyrics, energy, & emotion built into these types of songs. They seemed to capture the spirit of incredible injustice on various levels. These generally amounted to the exploitation of the people that could be exploited. The people who fell through the cracks of society.

This feeling was reinforced for years as he "grew up". He looked very closely at people and how they lived. How they fit in and made do. How they survived in such a cruel world. He tried to empathize with them and tried to understand how/why more people didn't seem to see what he saw. He even wanted to do development work in Africa for a couple of years. He even wanted to adopt a child from Chad like Mr. Engel. He even wanted to volunteer at soup kitchens. He even wanted to give money to homeless people!

To further demonstrate his passion of the endless realms of inequality, he often thought about getting a tattoo branded onto his skin. He thought about getting scribbled on. Inked. He dreamt of that permanent way of showing off his rejection of the status quo. He wanted to have a distinct and matter-of-fact way of identifying himself as one of those misfits of society that could only dream of something better for both his life & his world. Between 2001 and 2006 he felt that the band Death By Stereo best encapsulated his feelings about everything from individual freedoms & opportunities, religion, the injustice & corruption of politics, and the need for all people to fight for something more. But by the time he turned 23, he started listening to less DBS (since after all, the same ~50 songs get kind of tired after a while). So instead of collecting a nice "Death Skull" complete with lightning bolts across his back, arm, leg, or chest, he collected stickers, shot-glasses, hats and other garments with the DBS signature instead. But without this kind of tattoo, how could he convince himself that these feelings he had were for life? What if it all just went away and he stopped caring about the issues that he spent so many nights mulling over in his head - so much so, that he had to start writing them out in order to: A) help organize his thoughts a little better, and B) get them out of his aching head?

His recently discontinued hotmail account had the band pennywise built into its name. He didn't even really realize that this e-mail probably acted as somewhat of a reinforcement of some of his own ideals. Pennywise represented the fight. They represented brotherhood, friendship, and sticking together in a tough & oppressive world. He didn't appreciate this until years after when he saw that the members of Pennywise continued to write passionate songs about injustice. Actually, he kind of lost faith in them for a short time while he explored the musical perspectives and ideas of metal and hardcore. But metal was for the "upper-class sub-cultures" since they thought they were more talented than those deviant simple-minded punks and had a deeper more serious look on life than just "rockers". However, Hardcore was a tougher, meaner brand of music which held a lot of the same beliefs of punk: There is an oppressed population trying to survive in a cold, hard world. The hardcore "scene" included a very tight group of kids. Unless you made it to all the shows and started to really meet the people in the scene, it was very difficult to become included in this tight knit group. It didn't matter what your background, lifestyle, or heritage was: if you had the commitment to some of these ideals of strength through brotherhood and made it to the shows, you were in. This is why he was out. He simply couldn't commit to show up at the Strat weekends or spend money on all the shows that he might have. But he still liked the music and what it represented. More so than metal anyways.

Country music was built into him. It didn't act as much of a deterent to his love for hardcore and street punk, but it gave him another dynamic character trait: the romantic. True, he found that one hell of a lot of country songs were lame and he hated the "Top 40" representation of this type of music. But at the same time, he really admired a lot of the stories that could tug at the heart strings and give a person a sense of appreciation of life. Shortly after 9/11 Alan Jackson released "Where Were You" which spoke to the lives lost from the terrorist attacks. "I'm already there" by Lonestar did a very good job of sending the same message. Outside of war issues, he really enjoyed the songs "Drive" and "Red Dirt Road" (Jackson, Brooks & Dunn) which simply told stories of life and growing up. "Movin' To A Small Town" by Steve Fox also gave him a sense of reminiscence about how life might have been like before there were the worries in the world that exist today. And Brad Paisley just knows how to get'r done. True, he has some of the hokiest love songs that could bring a tier to the eye of anyone with a beating heart, but he also knows how to write songs about the good life: fishin, smokin, racin police cars, women, and sex. but what sets Brad Paisley apart from the rest is definately his ability to write/perform love songs. This is what he identified with the most. It was his way of avoiding emo music which was an embarrassment to punk rock, and never touched on the issues that the other punk rock songs did. Oh, and Taylor Swift? Well, she's just smokin'.


But despite his many loves of different types of music, he never got one of those "around the bicep" tattoos commonly sported by oil country cowboys, nor one of those "death skulls" or pennywise symbols on his leg. He has no cowboy hat and doesn't wear eye shadow or those iddy biddy pants (Can you imagine?) His secret to relaxing is to listen to Justin Rutledge, Cat Power, or City and Colour, yet he would never tell you that his first favorite cd was Jewel. He is simply too well-rounded to become a cowboy, a punk, a skin, or a wuss. He hasn't even been able to put one of the many DBS or pennywise stickers on the bumper of his car because of the permanence that is suggested by doing so. He does have a 6 year old CISN country sticker on the inside of his CD wallet though, but shakes his fist in fury when he sees the Redneck Cowboy whip past him in the Henday driving his Chev with that same sticker on the back of the cab's window.
He really is just not that hard core of a person and never really even considered himself as one. He dislikes the mods, the hippies, the capitalists, the scenesters, and the rednecks and what they represent. Instead, he thinks that there should just be less class in this world, and he struggles with why more people just can't be treated as equals (no, he's not a commie!). He often jokes about not being classy enough for some people's tastes yet has probably seen more museums and plays and cultural exhibits than he cares to admit. By gaining "class", one gives up a little bit of humility. Instead, arrogance and self-importance is created. The more emphasis that is placed on self-importance, the more a person forgets about the people that fell through the cracks. They forget empathy and humility little by little. And without humility, one becomes something less than human.

As he aged, he did more reading, more listening, more talking to people. Engineers Without Borders proved to be one of his greatest influences in finding strength in a tough world. He relied on music a lot less since he finally found people that were incredibly open-minded and even more so open-armed. They let him see hope in the world despite injustice and happiness in the world beyond poverty. They didn't ask to see your tattoos or your ear gauge stretched to the size of a dollar. The white $2 makepovertyhistory bracelet was more than sufficient, and also helped spread a good message about hope. Thanks to this group, reading non-fiction became his favorite past-time. The non-fiction books he read reinforced some of his feelings he learned he had from listening to music. He learned that he was just one of many that wants something more for this world. He learned that he was a little bit more than some punkass kid with a little bit of angst.
So this is Ryan Unbranded. It is a look at how he feels disassociated from so many different groups/classes of people, yet still feels he has a place in this world where he needs to make a difference. Even if that difference is small. After all, he had a very good up-bringing and has no reason to complain about his life or the inequalities that may have been placed on him directly. Especially when you consider some of the lives of people in the world. Especially when you consider that he is a young swm with a university degree in engineering that enjoys cooking, live music, and taking his dog for walks...

October 11, 2008

Faith, Religion, Atheists, and Hell

Ch. 3

There is an over-whelmingly large population of believers all throughout the world. Go to any part of any country. There will be those who either give thanks to a higher being, those who ask a higher being for better fortune in the future, and those who simply just need someone to blame for any injustice in the world.

When we see so much tragedy in the world (which is broadcasted more effectively than ever thanks to technology), it is hard to imagine there couldn't be life after death to balance out the atrocities. There needs to be a place for those of us that done good in this world, and those of us who did nothing but use and abuse. Right?? Societies all around the world have this expectation that there will be something more after death. Something for the babies that die in the womb, something for those who suffer through years of dialysis but finally succumb to cancer, and something for those murderers and rapists of the world, too.
So we reject the concept of just ceasing to exist. St. Peter has to be waiting for each of us at God's Golden Gate. That three-headed hellhound has to be guarding the River Styx. The Rainbow Bridge that connects us to our dead pets will be open 9 til 5, the 7th Circle of Hell really is where the nastiest of individuals burn, and for us "good" ones - we will get to be with that list of loved ones that have left us years - decades - before... and the philly cream cheese will have never tasted better.

Being removed from this earth and everything on it that we are familiar with is impossible to comprehend. Pi Patel was perhaps one of the more enlightened of us since he had the opportunity to investigate and realize the merits of hinduism, christianity, and islam at a young age. After some hassling from his parents/cleric figureheads about choosing 1 religion, Pi declares that he "just wants to love God". His strength through faith shows us that even a young boy can survive on a raft with a tiger, orangutan, and a hyena for 270 days or something. He understood that the probability of his family's survival was nil yet he didn't cave in either. Which of the religion's heavens might have he been welcomed in to? What if he didn't have the strength to carry on and ended his own life by jumping overboard? Would he suffer in the 3rd or 4th circle of hell for all of eternity for this? What if his family did one while he did the other and was therefore separated from them after death for all of eternity - him in (some) Heaven and his family split between various fiery realms ruled by Satan, or vice versa???
Another question that I have is how do we put a value on a life? I touched on this before in some blog about some of the horrific stories pertaining to animal cruelty. Recently laws were passed saying that docking a dog's tail is now illegal since the animal can feel the pain. Renown kennel clubs weren't happy to hear this since fewer dogs will meet the breed standard. But they do feel pain. The argument might go that domesticated animals are only worth sparing any pain. We all need beef burgers after all. So when I torture ants by frying them with a magnifying glass, this is okay. And when I tame a lion with the crack of my whip, or I beat my horse with a piece of leather urging it to get around the track faster, that is also just fine. But if we have such a hard time drawing the line for domesticated animal cruelty, then I suppose it would also be difficult to determine how and when lethal punishment of human beings is acceptable in our society. How can a guy like Robert Pickton - who obviously not have any respect for life or people at all, have his own life spared through a bureaucratic system funded by our own tax dollars in this very just democracy? How can a guy like James Rozko be spared from living a life here on earth being hated by essentially everyone and instead just leave this world? Is it his fault that he didn't have the support networks like so many of us have which resulted in him becoming a murderer? Does becoming a murderer deserve an eternal place being tortured in hell? Can that kind of a murder really be distinguished from the murder of your cousin when she was killed by the idiot drunk driver in the pick-up truck??

There are a lot of people out there who have nothing. They might include Vancouver East Side heroine addicts, Ethiopian coffee farmers, First Nations drug dealers, Romanian refugees. When asked to list there children, they will list both the living and the dead, the latter often being higher in numbers. In Craig Ferguson's book "Between the Bridge and the River" he emphasizes how the people with the least count on religion the most. They pray and pray and give dollars to the church/preacher in hopes that by doing so, they will be rewarded. They are begging for a break. Where will these people go when they die?

We can all appreciate the Great Circle of Life thanks to Simba, Mufasa, and Rafiki. Even cartoon lions and baboons believe that there's a place in those stars - a heaven - where those long gone shine down on us. It might just be far too much to believe that when we die, our bodies die and become the grass, and the antelope feed on the grass, and that in some way of form, millions of years from now, we will be re-invented into some other life species, through mass preservation principles. Our soul must leave us, and go someplace else. Then what about politicians???
There are a lot of cop-outs. A lot of people declare themselves as "spiritual" and not religious. Some people that have been exposed to the church might find some of their ways a little bit outlandish - bordering on cult-like, with repetitive responses and hymns sung in 1 tone. Sit, stand, kneel. "What up wit dat, yo!" There are historical battles between Christians and Protestants and Jews vs Non-Jews. How can there be 1 heaven for all of these "believers" to go to, when there is sooooo much hatred - enough to spill blood over - between the various groups? A Barbara Walters special from about a year ago (my initial motivation to write on this) included her interviewing religious leaders from around the world including everyone from the Dali Llama to members of extremist groups. One argument against might include with the decreasing numbers of Christians around the world, and the immense and growing populations of lesser Christian countries, how could "my" religion be the right one? What about strength in numbers? Could that many people be wrong about God and the afterlife? What if I don't agree with some of those ideals and principles within that one religion, even if it is - in truth - the only one right religion? Would to even think different about simply lead to eternal damnation?? Is by fully supporting the traditional values of my religion the only way to ensure that I have the best eternity to exist in for all of time? Good Little Catholics, for example, are supposed to go out and make more good little catholics by avoiding condoms/birth control. If by choosing not do so, am I up the creek? Also, is it really even a good parental decision to have children - to attempt raising children in a world filled with war, poverty, and corruption? Wouldn't it be more effective to adopt a child born into poverty? Maybe God would appreciate that more... What if I have an impure thought about 2 certain girls and myself? Does that bump me into some other whole new Circle of Fiery Hell? If so, then are the homosexuals of the world going to burn even more? What do I need to believe in in order for me to have a painless eternity? I think I am good to most people, but sometimes tempers can flair... So where is the line that Thou Shall Not Cross in order for us to ensure that we can at least have some peace - Do we cross that line by simply suggesting that there may be no afterlife at all?!
Facebook suggests that there a lot of apathetic agnostics out there that either don't have much to believe in or are just tooo busy in this fast-paced world to worry about being religious. They may have a blind faith in God such that if they were killed on their way home from school or work in a freak accident, their families can say "through his faith in God we have the piece of mind that he will be resting in peace with his creator". Some people are just sooo upset with the disparity/inequality in the world, they don't even care and wonder even "how could hell be any worse?"

Dante's Inferno, though written and translated from an Italian poem, was a challenging read, yet something I knew I had to get through. It's vivid description of the prices that people might pay with various levels of sin are quite disarming. It makes me wish that I could be a better person and that I had some better guidance as to where I should look for answers to this insane experience called life. Craig Ferguson's book also ties in Dante's Inferno and I am glad that I got through them both so close together. You should read them too.


August 6, 2008

Chapter 19: The Value of a Life

Death is a tragic thing. It's all around us - there's just no escaping it. The way we go can sometimes be controlled, whether we smoke or drink ourselves into an irrecoverable state, or we shorten our lives drastically more in order to escape the troubles in life that we might otherwise find to be too hard to cope with. So we live, we love, we die. Sometimes we skip the middle one. But this here and now is about death. Not so much about how or why some people have to die, but rather about the taking of lives.



Recently my neighbor's cat has gone missing. It was an adorable peachy kitten with a pink nose and blue eyes. His name was Oliver and he loved to aggravate Cosmo by coming realll close, pawing (not scratching) then taking back off to the hedge where my dog couldn't reach him. My dog would kind of paw back and bark, but never anything more.



I have an optimistic hope that my new little friend found himself a home with a nice family that was looking for a cat just like Oliver. But it sickens me when I open up the morning paper and read about how kids are facing charges for microwaving a cat to death.



I've been wanting to write about this for months (likely even before it was translated into my 19th chapter of blogs) but the recent accounts of 2 dogs being found in a west Edmonton lake I guess, had finally done it for me. They said the dogs were too decomposed to determine cause of death, yet there is suspicion as to whether gunshots were heard the night the dogs went missing.




Beyond recognition. Beyond recognition? Beyond recognition.



Can you imagine? Someone you love being treated in such a way so that the next time they come around, they are beyond recognition?



Personally, I wouldn't know what I would do to the person that ever hurt my Cosmo. Once at the local store, I practically went postal at a guy for upsetting my dog when he was tied up outside.



So if it's not a pet that dies, it's another human. I suppose I could talk about how we also have the power to kill other lifeforms than human beings including cows, pigs, fish, moose, bears, trees, orchids, ants, wasps etc. By exerting our Power to Kill beyond our own need to survive through eating, we are showing how primitive & ruthless our species truly is and how society celebrates those who can display that much power over its defeated counterpart.



But where to draw the line, hey?




That is sure an amazing 29 pound salmon that I have hung there over the fireplace, but I wonder what god thinks of me for robbing little nemo of a family, or at the very least, a really good healthy member of a thriving fish species?


Screw it! If I didn't kill it, someone else would have!!





Murder? Fish murder. K this IS a joke of a blog. Waste of time.



Yet recently there was a man sentenced to 22 years in prison with no chance of parole after being convicted of a triple homicide (no reference). This, in comparison to a 29 month sentence after a conviction for the lesser charge of manslaughter after an attack on a gay kid in the states. When drunk drivers can be sentenced in terms of months for robbing a family from a son or daughter or brother or sister, there is cause to worry about how much value we really put on life.


But I suppose we have the amazing Canadian Justice System to decide that. Where noone ever falls through the cracks, and the rightfully convicted serve their debts and suffer a loss of freedom, and of course, have to live with what ever they did for the rest of their life, with only god to pray to for redemption.


So I suppose you can only ask yourself this simple question about respecting all forms of life:


What would Oprah Do? WWOD. But if you are a fan of 24 and not Oprah, you might ask yourself What Would Jack Bauer Do? But we all know that the answer to that would be KILL! KILL! KILL!



Who else can we look to for guidance? Our church? Our inner-selves? Our parents? Our girlfriend? Politicians maybe! I dunno. Please tell me. Is it god that really allows 70,000 dead Chinese to be erradicated from the earth in a devastating earthquake? Who can I blame for all of the misgivings of this world?
What gives me the right to live?



What gives guys like Robert Pickton or Vince Li the right to live? The second guy was pleading for death after all! They are drains on society, and in this fine country called Canada we will be injecting millions of dollars into the courts to decide that they should never set foot on free land again. Instead, it is our responsibility of us as Canadians to pay to feed & clothe these disgraces to the human race for the rest of their lives. That's a little bit more expensive than a 5 cent bullet. Up the taxes. In America, Dubya approved the killing of a soldier who was a serial murderer/racist. What power.
But for myself? For now I think I will keep to killing the ants with that white powdery stuff. Maybe it is justified after all, if I happen to injest enough through breathing it in and develop cancer in 30 or 60 years.
http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20080106/animal_abuse_080106?s_name=&no_ads=


http://www.outinasheville.com/outloud/?p=283

http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0708/12129.html

August 1, 2008

Sex and Violence

Sure I may be unoriginal by just using song titles as blog titles. Maybe that even borders on copyright infringement. But let's just say for the sake of everyone that I have never even heard of the Exploited, let alone this song.

The City of Edmonton has recently discontinued allowing bars from selling cheap alcoholic beverages. The intention being that the higher prices will deter obnoxious and belligerent party-to-hard-ers from pouring as much of that liquid courage down their gullet. By having higher drink prices, there will be a lot less crime in the city. What Bull. The kids out there who already have it rough enough by having the stress of paying rent, passing school, and affording food are now being denied the opportunity to have a few hours of escape from a very demanding society.

Mayor Pinhead Mandel has this thing called the Curb the Violence campaign and feels that this is one of the key ways in stopping violence on Edmonton streets. Isn't most of the most serious violence coming from the police anyways? For every 3 Taser Deaths, I hear of one gang beating resulting in death. Maybe we should be taking the cops (and ridiculously overly priced police helicopter) off of the streets (and out of the skies).

Regardless of cheap drinks, psychotic angry youths out there will continue to cause a raucous. Yet still, our every day social drinkers that enjoyed dollar pints @ Filthy's or 50 cent hi-balls @ Squires are the ones that suffer. I mean, reallllly suffer. Without the same availabilty of affordable liquid courage, there will be less people hooking up and getting laid. And unless you are a complete idiot when it comes to hooking up, there shouldn't really be too much worry about getting any *ahem* undesirable results.

Lastly. For those of us who do drink and get loud, belligerent, and get into a fight ("(Alcohol) will help you pick a fight with someone twice your size" according to Brad), who cares! What harm has there been over the years with a couple of guys stepping outside and laying into eachother for a minute or two. If anything, that is a large part of how us males enjoy releasing our aggression. Isn't that a better way than taking it out on her? Or maybe taking it out on someone else by getting into a crash while on the roadways (in your truck, of course)? Bar fights resulting from excessive alcohol consumption have been around since the days of the Wild Wild West. I wouldn't be surprised if Edmonton was home to one of the original saloons where the very first bar brawls happened!


So keep on drinking, Edmonton. Fight and Screw. Let it all out. It is the long weekend after all.



April 6, 2008

Hakuna Matata

"Sometimes in life bad things happen, and you can't do anything about it right?"
"Right."
"WRONG! When the world turns its back on you - you turn your back on the world!!!"
"That's not what I was told"

"Well then maybe you need a new lesson!"


Hakuna Matata: the ultimate nonsensical disney-derived phrase, competing with such words as
supercalifragiliticexpialadocious,
bibbity bobbity boo, and
zip-a-dee-do-dah.

The fact of matter is that Hakuna Matata has become not only a goofy disney catch-phrase, but has also become an underlying philosophy in the way that people are responding to any mishaps that affects them directly, or major problems in the world around them, which will impact them indirectly.

Simba "finally got some sense knocked into him - and the bump to prove it", but there are many young, non-lion species all around the world that are choosing (or are forced to choose) to live by this laxidasical manner in their every day lives. The "No worries" philosophy seems to be today's solution to every problem, every mistake.

The mistakes
It's hard to get through an entire day without saying or doing something that may have potentially offended someone. When you stop to correct your mere misstep, the person usually responds "No Worries!" before you even have the chance to clarify or apologize for whatever faux pas you said or did in the first place. This could includes the the mistake of bumping somebody's foot in the desk next to you, brushing your bag against them when getting off of the bus, taking the last nacho or finishing the last of the jug of beer without consulting your mates first.

Since these are very small infractions for the most part, this Hakuna Matata attitude isn't really a big deal. I mean, forgive and forget, right? Or Shit Happens, as Gump might say. But at the same time, maybe more due dilligence or consideration is required from each of us and as a result, these thoughtless mishaps would happen less.

Using due dilligence, or shall we say..."Giving A Damn' " can be a hard thing to do for a largely apathetic population of youngsters facing a vast amount of challenging problems in their future. But the one thing I have going for me now in continuing to actually care and resisting apathy is that society is more aware now than ever of the enormity of the issues that need addressing. Also, 30, 60, 100, 1000 years ago there were still people out there trying to solve some of these problems, who did not just put there head in the sand. I think that getting used to accepting the "shit happens" ideology for incidental things like when we are mistakenly charged an extra $2 in bank fees one month, then we are not far off from accepting this attitude for bigger issues that are out there.

The problems
Timon and Pumbaa showed that really, life can be a beautiful thing if you go through it with a "problem-free philosophy", and just go through life looking for your next "grub".

This "grub" is a symbol of the human necessity of satisfying our needs despite how slimy the path may be in achieving them. We let things go unsaid, we turn blind eyes, we find that path of least resistance, we ask no questions and seek no answers. Our decisions to put it on auto-pilot and let the days drive themselves, believing that we, as individuals, have negligible impact on the world is sad, unavoidable, yet increasing at higher rates than ever, thanks to popular culture dictating what we need to be happy.


So instead, we say to ourselves that when something goes wrong, it will work itself out eventually.
no worries


The next thing you know, you're living in a city facing an obesity epidemic in which water or energy privatization has left you cold and in the dark and murder rates are the highest in the country. Well maybe Edmonton doesn't meet one of these criteria, but with time & continual inaction of an apathetic electorate, it certainly won't take long to meet the other few.

Many of us are just surviving paycheque to paycheque, and feel no duty to look out for anything more than our immediate family's well-being. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this, in its own right. The problem lies in the fact that out of the 6.6 billion people on earth, nearly 3 billion people live on less than $2/day. That's a lot of people. There is not very much that a family of 4 living on one income can do in their day-to-day lives that would help change the lives of that family of 4 living 3000 miles or 30 miles away after all, right?

Maybe we could vote for a different government (aka: that body that is supposed to regulate the well-being of society's helpless) But with 42% of the population making up the popular vote, this will not likely have any impact, especially if those who really need the help are the one's that aren't even able to get to polling stations on election day to vote for the help they need. But Hakuna Matata right? Instead corporate money buys governments and dictates where money will be spent. These big multi-nationals will take their tax break or subsidy then boast at improving the economies and livelihoods of those poorest in the world, despite their continual exploitation of millions of people worlds away. So apathy is hard to avoid for even the biggest optimist, knowing that there are people that Just Don't Care - Hakuna Matata - and knowing that money buys governments.

So Get Angry, Kids. I mean, seriously. This apathetic and impassive attitude of human beings is really starting to piss me off. Our fear of upsetting people, our apathetic attitudes, and our blissful ignorance of world issues has led us to tip-toe around every moral or social issue there is. If I had it my way, I would higher more baboons to knock us all on the head with a stick. Maybe then we would wake up & fight for what's right!

"The Arid Torpor of Our Inaction Will Lead Us To Our Demise"
-bad religion, 2002