It's What You Do With It, Part 2!

Part 2: Family Values (Ch 6.2)

I realize these blogs haven't been published in order, but rather, in the order that I felt like writing them. In addition to this, I am constantly adding ideas & topics of things that one day I hope to write about. The hard part is putting stuff out there when it actually may be relevant to the current events. Like what ever happened to tent city? Did I ever get anything posted out there about that? I know that I have ch. 10 reserved for Native Issues (that's a baaaaaad pun), but really tent city was a pretty big story in itself, and had more to do about this city's splendid growth than "Native Issues". So I guess we will just carry along and put out "It's What You Do With It, Part 2" 4 months since "Part 1" and 2 months after "Part 3".

This is a big one though. Important. And really, I wish I could be writing about "Part 4" right now but I have put this one off long enough. There isn't much more in this world more important than family after all...

The first person in my family that died was my dad's grandmother. I was about 8 or 9 so that would have made her old. I didn't even really know anything about her, besides that she gave me money for Christmas and birthdays. A week into Grade 7 my 18 year old cousin was killed in a car accident. This was the most traumatic thing I had ever experienced in my life. I think about her probably not as much as I should, but I remember how great she was to her little cousin and how the room was truly brighter when she was in it. 2 years later, I lost the second most important person in my life: my Mom's mum. Grandma ... what can I even say?! I was blessed (like many others) to have the BEST Grandma in the world. I experienced the death of other loved ones from cancer/emphysema, Alzheimer's disease, and most recently, a plane crash. 

This blog is dedicated to hoping that its readers stop and take the time for family. All and any. Near or far. You can't be too busy for family. Yes - Even if you don't like him or her. Those older ones are especially worth your time. Within my extended family, I have yet 1 grandma still kickin' @ 89. One of her sons said to me a few weeks ago, "She's got BALLS, that woman"! I have been very fortunate to hear many stories of the Days of Yore, including how milk was brought by horse and carriage and when she had to flee on foot from the Princess Theater from "boys looking for trouble". I've heard war time stories and farm life stories. These veterans are worth your time. Geriatrics. Survivors with a history. Really, history should be paid close attention to after all - since it repeats itself n' all.

My last New Year's Eve was spent @ the University Hospital with this last remaining Grandmother of mine. Not her daughter or sons or anyone else. She fell, you see, and I was the closest one to do anything about it. So I spent the next 14 hours or something hanging out in Emergency while my companion 20-somethings drank and got ridiculous. Efrem and Co. had a show in Calgary that night, which I would have thought to be a pretty good time. But forget regret. Be happy that I could be the one that could help.

Your grandparents deserve your help. Anything that you are capable of. Even if it's programming the remote, I have learned that even something as simple as that could make all the difference in their quality of life. If you don't get along with your grandparents, then don't forget the rest of your family is important too. I know some of us just can't wait to get married and/or move away from our families. If these geriatric veterans are deserving of getting something back from the younger generation - with all if its power and capability - surely, your parents deserve a little something in return, too. If you don't consider yourself as having any family, then there are other people out there that need your help. Regular people. That can't even move around their own 1 bedroom suites, that don't have the cabability of shovelling their own walks.

So look again - hard - at the way you spend your time. I promise too also. This Tuesday will mark the 12th year since my cousin's car accident. I pray that you will never have to experience this kind of tragedy and that you make the most of the time that you have with the most important people in your life.

You can't always get what you want.

So last night I went to Elliott Brood. When I got there @ 9:30, the first thing I noticed was the set times. Mr. Brood wasn't coming on til 11:40. Yikes. It's a school night after all! So after a really brief scour through the place in a search for any familiar faces, I jetted off to Chapters. To fill the emptiness - this void inside of me - I have been spending loads of money lately. Chapter's took about 40 schmackers, and Blackbyrd suckered me in to buying a Moldy Peaches disc and another local indy-rocker local band "The Last Deal". This, in addition to the Elliott Brood ticket. In addition to the $20 rancid t-shirt I wore last night, in addition to those packages of gum & sudafed.

Yet still the void remains.

But nevertheless, I wandered back and caught most of the opener, readily anticipating a pretty good show/night. The kid had a good voice, especially if you like kids with those kinds of voices. It was a bit much for me after a while though...

I noticed a lot of things last night and took a lot of time reflecting on what it was I was doing. Where I was. What else I could be doing. I noticed a lot of happy people. Despite the late hour, smiles were all around. There was dancing. Grubby hippy couples, all male and all female couples, old couples, and some kids that looked like they weren't old enough to be in the bar. All dancing. Have you ever seen an engineer dance? There was this one dude which was definately as geeky as an engineer. Maybe a compsci student. He danced. This is why I try to dance less.

Last night I was stood up from all of my non-dates. I must have suggested to at least 3 members of the opposite sex to come out. At least as a friend that has reasonable taste in music, if nothing else. I guess people just can't be bothered or are just too darn busy with their so-called life. Or they are saving their money to buy a condo... When none eventually showed, I contemplated talking to some realllllly nice looking girls, but really they were just tooo darn cute to even talk to!!

Enter escapism blog. If I was 19 or 20 again, nothing could stop me from getting maybe 3 drinks then just talking to...whoever! But I am past that. Getting loaded and talking to girls at bars only leads to trouble. Being sober and talking to girls at bars is Just Plain Hard!! Not to mention that the end of cheap drink prices and my excessive spending really makes not drinking an easier option to go for.

So of the very wide demographic at the show I started to realize what my future could be like. I could legitimately dance IF I found someone crazy enough to dance with me. Or I could be a grubby old loner sitting by myself drinking in a corner watching everyone out there have the time of their life. It certainly was not the same way kids tend to rock at the Bad Religion shows, but I suppose after a certain amount of time, these kids grow up, chill out, and just smile & dance.

The headliner performed just swell. The show went late and some kids took off. I saw 1 friend from years ago. She's a pretty big Brood fan I think. I don't know if she made it to the end since the show went til past 1. But Elliott Brood may just make it on to my facebook music list some time very soon.

The Necessity of Escapism (ch. 32)

Ch 32, Part 1.

i want something more from this misery called life

it's hard to keep my dreams alive

when there's all this pain and strife

i dream of a place where all of us can hide

a world where my answers can never be denied

i want to move to disneyland and forget about this place

what a better way to get away from the fucked up human race

i want to get away! i want to go to a world where all i have to do is play!

and i never want to leave! there's no way to make believe!

-strung out, 1992

Need I say anymore? This past June, I took my 4th trip to Disneyland. Well, one time was to DisneyWorld, Fla. actually. But nevertheless, I get this place. I get the idea of Walt's dream where a family can go together to be happy. The second that you walk through those gates, everything in the outside world: war, famine, taxes, crime... are purged from your mind completely. It's more than the sights, smells, and sounds. It's got something more to do with the air you breathe within those gates that make you feel like you are young again, and nothing in the world can bring you down.

People do need a break. The news is sick. Lucky for us, Daryl McIntyre, Kevin O'Connell and Nicola Crosbie are effing ridiculous. Jello Biafra has a silly media spoken word thing that makes fun of newscasters and how they can flip from being Oh So Pleasant and Smiley to tragically emotional and serious in a flash. Without the news though, we would be ignorantly blissful. (AMEN!) But in application, this is not possible. We rely on news so that we can decide how we live our free lives. (Don't try to pull into PetroCan for gas, don't eat Maple Leaf products and don't holiday in Afghanistan any time soon, for example).

So we vacation when we can. We exploit our credit cards, odometer, or air miles collection so that we can simply just get away from it all. It doesn't end there either. Alcohol. That's usually the very first thing the adults reach for when they get to their destination. Something to take the edge off from all the stressful packing, driving, or sitting in the airplane I suppose. Alcohol is such a cure! God knows there would be sooo many more potheads out there without it. That's why he probably continues to make it so readily available in most of the countries you would think to escape to. The other day at Ceili's across from GMAC I noticed that the menu didn't actually have a "drinks" or "beverages" section. It was called the "alcoholic" section. If that's the first thing you look for when you sit down at the restaurant, then maybe you should take a look at your life and wonder what on earth makes it sooo stressful that you need that dulling effect of what is also known as a depressant.

I have done a lot of escaping over the years. But please realize that I have had a lot of time to "build my character" (as an ex-gf put it) with respect to a lot of my history. Now I just drink mostly @ home cuz I am sick of carbonated/sugar-saturated alternatives and water/milk/oj can get very redundant. Drinking at school was done out of habit. A good habit, but a habit that I am quickly falling out of since Matt, Gary, and Dan have all graduated. I don't drink more than 1 @ shows cuz I have to drive. I don't drink @ clubs because I don't club. From time to time though, my Binge Drinking skills return. This is mostly because of special occasions like getting my heart broken, having a really exciting concert come through, or perhaps celebrating a family member's birthday. Otherwise, I really respect straight edge lifestyles/movements and like to think that I too could be strong enough to keep sober and suffer this reality called life.

I know that I will always be able to count on Disneyland to escape to after all.

DISCLAIMER: Disneyland is a place that generates large amounts of wealth, often at the expense of others. This exploitation I acknowledge and appreciate but I will not apologize for still thinking it's great.

My Last First Day of School


September 6, 1989. There I was. 3'8" 57 lbs. Combed hair, new shoes. Without a clue in the world. Get out the camera. My mom still has that picture. I'll bet your mom has yours too.

I had this goofy grin, rosy child-chubby cheeks, and a Mario Brothers lunch box. Off to kindergarten.That was a fun time. I remember a lot of playing with blocks and boats and sitting on carpet listening to stories (not unlike in kindergarten cop). "What's a tumour?" ...It was nice knowing some people - it made the experience a little less scary. Crystal is married now!

A year later I returned. *Real* school this time. Where we got to use crayola scissors and big red pencils. We got to send Valentine's for the first time. I think I might have one in storage that says that Krista Loves Me.

Fall of '91 was an interesting time. This is when we finally were all old enough to anticipate seeing familiar faces from last year. Nick and Rowan spent countless lunch hours trying to not laugh so hard to make pop or milk come jetting out of our noses. But as tight as the 3 of us were, it wasn't until this new kid from out of town made friends with us. His name was Mike. Little did I know at that time that we would have sooo much fun times together for years to come! Similar antics of pop-through-the-nose, snapping bra straps, playing dinosaur tag or red ass continued through the years. I think it was Amber who I had my first childhood crush on. She was so smart, so pretty! In the same time, Krista, who loved me, managed to pull the pom-pom on my toque into a steel post, with my head still in it. Richard, Greg, and Mike were also an awesome trio to watch fight. And lest we forget the epic battles between Ken and Richard.

The start of the year was also fun when you were told you were going to be in a split class. It made you feel all warm & fuzzy like someone really thinks you are doing something right besides your parents. This is what I attribute to always being able to relate pretty good to those kids a grade younger. This was especially the case since in Fall of 1995 I was torn from the main group of grade 6s and first met my favorite Romanians, Virgil and Andrei. Virgil, myself, Dan Michael, Derek, Meghan, Jessica, Gemma and Ashley were the core group of 6s that had to cope with 3 times as many grade 5s. Paul and Juliane were supposed to get married. Lauren was embarrassed about talking through her retainer. It was fun being bigger.

But the Big Year was 1994 where I left St. Richards to go to JPI. Mr. Engel was such an inspiration to me, and I think most of his class, right from Day One, that one of the first things I did when I started facebook was make a Mr. Engel Tribute Group. This is the year that I really changed. All because of Tab the Kid and that little glass jar. That is also where I met a future Harvard student, Tom, for the first time.

1996 bumbled along. Bad year. Bowen saved it. His very multi-cultural homeroom were thouroughly entertained. It was tough losing some pretty decent kids to the whiter school BK, but I think on a whole, starting every year in Junior High was pretty exciting. The X-Files of class 8B might ring a bell for Jen or Amy but I think that the kids in that class were soooooo bad that ten years later, even facebook banished them. Dan, Danielle, Gerardo, Jon, Melissa, Brooke - no stalking any of them here, and I wonder why that might be!! The first Bride and Bridesmaid from my graduating class were my bestest buddies when I screwed my way through grade 9 (98/99). I think that was also the year when dominic lost his pants on several occasions. Karmen, Kate, and Amanda (but mostly Karmen and Kate - :P) were also some really inspirational people that helped me turn in to the person I am today. See Kate? Still not a psychopathic serial killer. Highschool was interesting. I resumed my friendship with Mr. Kennedy and found terrific pals in Gerad, Trevor, and Chris through him and band class. Band class was a great way to meet girls. Especially when the band instructor's daughter yells out in class: "GOD WILL SOMEONE PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A SCREW". Colleen, Jenn, and Gina were also something outta heaven for a highschool geek like me. Older women who could really wet a reed. What?! Nick was a good trumpet player. No sexual innuendos intended.

It was the start of 2001 when a pretty bright group of Physics students (let's see - Me, John, Kyle, DMS, 2 Matts, and Tyler W) were there with the rest of the class (OHHHHHH!!!) on the morning of September 11. That year probably won't go forgotten, although the gongshow of Math 31 a year later probably *should* be forgotten about. We had a love doctor teach us after all.

The Fall of 2002 was ridiculous. GMAC = drinking. So much so that I thought it would be in everyone's best interest for me to repeat this 1 more time.

The Fall of 2003 was ridiculous. Enter heaviest drinkers in (my) world, Robin and Julien. Also, enter the hottest Heathers in the world: Guitar Heather and Bass Heather. Mark was pretty too. The Fall of 2003, we founded the Tetratards. That was ... just too much fun.

The Fall of 2004 was hell. This is where I decided that everything still will be okay as long as I eventually "C" my Degree. But the good news was that I was with a class of engineers filled with 50% women, 25% of which were 8s or higher on Ryans Ranking List. (hiiiii Taraaaaaaa)

In September 2005 I was working. Really working. I was becoming an engineer. That was a really fun experience. Sometimes I wonder how things would have worked out if I ended up @ Shelby like a whole whack of kids did, but in the end, I was really very happy doing what I was doing.

In September 2006, it was like being back in 1993 where we anticipate seeing all of our good friends again!! (Segregation? What Segregation??!!!)

New York City was a fun time in 2007 but I began to get a little bitter about having to return to school knowing that all of my classmates would be graduating only a short time later... (single tear).

So here I am. 1 am. Not sleeping. On the last time I will have to wake up for school to start a semester of learning. Pinkney @ 8 for CivE 398. And no, I didn't fail - I just didn't take it yet!! So here goes nothin'. It has been pretty fun up until now anyways. Ever since way back in 1989. Turtles in a half shell - TURTLE POWER!!!

80 X 40

Chapter 13: The Overburden of Being Underpaid as an Edmonton Area Teacher

As we enter into another year, I reflect on the past 6. That's how long it's been since I have finished high school & entered into my first year of post secondary. That's as long as junior high and high school combined. That's as long as you lived your carefree life as a child before having to enter into kindergarten. That's as long as your parents might have to carry on with their daily routine until they retire. That's as long as it will take to pay off your Brand New Car at that ridiculous interest rate.

That's... a long time.

But what's longer is the career life of a teacher. Just like that inspirational, wonderful person from your youth that was sooo full of knowledge and depth and charisma - so much so that you decided that you too should become a teacher. You will make a difference in the lives of generations to come. Well congratulations. You did it. Hell, if you did it right, you might even be starting your second year of teaching tomorrow!! Only 38 more to go. But good on ya!

I thought that I was going to be a teacher. Mr. Mike Engel was the man back in '95 that really gave us kids some perspective on life. He showed us how we could be good people in a very large world. "Leaders of Tomorrow" if you will. As it turns out, one of his students will be starting Harvard this fall! But teachers like that are the ones that inspire the majority of kids wanting a post secondary education to go into teaching. Not a lot of kids are very adept to English literature, organic chemistry, or environmental engineering after all. But they know they want that degree that will get them a job. It's what middle-class white families that live in the suburbs expect from the children they raise after all. So Ed. Easy way out. I mean, it's not like these 17 and 18 year olds finishing highschool really have a fucking clue as to what other career options are out there for them besides teaching, given that teachers are the people that a kid spends the most time through 12 out of the first 18 years of his/her life; and especially when there is that societal/parental demand of getting that damn' degree. So Ed. Congratulations on your life decision.

I admire teachers as individuals. Mr. or Mrs. Borchert - both very admirable teachers. Mr. Cook - probably the most focussed teacher that the system will see in the next 20 years. Miss Bouten - amazing with kids! But the problem I have has really more to do with the way the system educates. It offers a stressful position for students, teachers, and parents. First the parents. They have the most responsibility of all (though some don't quite understand that) which includes making their child become smart. Only so much can be absorbed by the student in the classroom when they are up all night screwing around on the computer** or playing X-Box. And there is only so much ridilin in the world. FAS, abusive dramatic on-again off-again relationships from Mum & Dad, junk food, the expense (and demand) of extra-curricular activities + the need to "keep up with the Jones's" also make it hard for parents to give their child a wholesome upbringing. Balance right? Isn't it all just about balance? Well sometimes when parents get a little bit off balance, it's the child who will start to suffer - and this will become apparent where he/she spends the majority of his/her time: in the classroom.

Students are put through the ringer too by the way the system is. The curriculum is bullshit. Matric? Like come on!! A lot of kids shouldn't be forced into the 10-20-30 stream when it is quite apparent that they will have a hard time with hit. There are other options after all. The other parts that I remember being in the curriculum too, are also a lot of BS. I know history is important, since history repeats itself, yet my knowledge of the French and Russian revolutions far outweigh anything about the Trudeau government, the Great Depression, or The war of 1812. Permutations and Combinations? wtf. The origin of AIDS or the genocide by Milosovic or the battle between Tutsis and Hutus or ... So many important things are left out of the curriculum while so much more needs to be taken out! Suffer the children.

Lastly we have the Teachers. The "let's work 7 months of the year, pay hike or strike, stressridden, fieldtrip chaperones that have to come in soooooo early for volleyball practice and stay up soooooooo late at night to prepare their lessons" teachers. The same people that either copped out of engg to teach math, or coasted through highschool with ease but thought "why bother to go for something greater than something that I already know soo well already?" The same people who have to do the proper raising of your children while you are too busy bringing home the bacon. The same people who will get the first grey hairs, the first lines under their eyes. The same people that are in Zimbabwe or Guetamala that can only dream of getting to have such a prestigious career because anything beyond that is simply way beyond the hint of affordability. The same people that had that arrogant budgetmore.ca campaign only 1 year ago (when I first really wanted to write about this) stating that teachers simply have much to difficult of a job given all of the resources they have at their disposal that they didn't have 15 years ago for the pay they get. We sure as hell realize that it must be difficult taking your 3 ADD students in addition to the other 22 nine year olds to BodyWorlds on the first Tuesday after a long weekend. Or maybe it was that Thursday before a PD Day. Or the stress of Pizza Day. Don't forget that. Horrible times. Or the end of year trip to Rundle Park or at Christmas where you do nothing but sit at your desk and collect chocolates, coffee mugs, and presents. Tough life.


So I guess this 6 year degree really hasn't been that long. I do have 2 years of engineering work experience after all. That 6 years is certainly better than having to start work as a teacher after only 4, for the next 40 years. Because by that time I know I would feel like I'm 80.


**on a side note: this is the 15th year of having the Internet in Alberta. Wasn't this world really a much more beautiful, wonderful place without having to be soo dependant on computers, e-mail, and the net???

My Fucking Depression

Chapter 36



i havent been genuinely happy for quite some time now. and by "genuinely happy" i mean being happy internally - outside of any "happy experiences" such as going to DisneyLand or getting with a girl or watching one of your favorite bands...but then i had to ask myself the question. i mean, it's indirectly built into the name of my blog after all. what is happiness? genuine happiness. is it relative? is not being in pain? is it only being i love? if is it the realization that you are in fact loved by someone at all? is it drunken blissful stupor? is it knowing & believing that things will be okay? maybe by having more faith in that there will be an end that justifies the means? faith? religion? will god bring me happiness? is it having a peace of mind?



what if i never get the chance to ever be truly happy again? what if i forget what true happiness even is? ... when do the professionals draw the line between deciding if someone is medically depressed or rather is just extraordinarily pessimisitc, apathetic, angry, and bitter? when does an unhappy person even decide that they even need a professional's psychiatric evaluation? after the first court order? after the first suicide attempt?



when does a sad person even become suicidal? what gives a person the right to decide that they are soo far beyond gone that the repercussions of suicide (like hell or leaving a family in grief, for example) even become a viable option?



this world is tough, i know. my life has been easy in all of the important ways. but sometimes sad. more times happy. some times sad. the spill canvas give me solace in their song self-conclusion where the indy rocker sings "we all flirt with the tiniest notion of self-conclusion in just one simplified motion / see the trick is that you're never supposed to act on it/ no matter how unbearable this misery gets".



since this, and many other songs written by pro-life punk bands have had such an impact on my life, i know that i will keep on with this fucking grind, despite feeling like im in such a funk all the time. death is a scary thing i think about probably too much. "what if i died tonight? car crash. propane explosion. lysteria tainted meat. strangled by my own headphones while i sleep in my bed. what would become of the stuff i left behind? how would i be remembered? how would my mom survive? who else would my death have an effect on? i'm pretty sure even Cosmo has forgotten about Oliver after all.



the sun is hotter now than it was 10 and 20 years ago. that protective layer of ozone is getting thinner. the cancer rates are getting higher. just the other day my uncle's girlfriend was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. cancer. god what a horrible thing. i enjoy living even if i'm sad. if anything, i enjoy being here to try and make others happy. i like it when people are happy. that is when i am happiest! but so many good people are dying and continue to die at young ages. i was outside a lot last weekend and got some hella bad sunburn and could just feel the cancer burning into my skin.



alternatively we grow old. some are good, more are bad, but there are people that keep on living. people that have been through a real depression. and they carry on. my grandma is one of the good one's. she fights and struggles through in a world in which she has lost soo much: a grand daughter, husbands, sisters and brothers. it gives me strength to see if i can make it that long, but at the same time i stop and think about how difficult it has been for her and how difficult it will continue to be for a lot of people in similar shoes as me given the state of this effed up world.



i cant think of anything else to say but gah. but i will live for today.

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

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.

Testosterone Makes the World Go 'Round - Part 1: Redneck Belligerence on the Roadways

Ch. 7

Efrem schulz's dad came up with a lot of his band's (death by stereo's) song titles. most of them really kick ass such as:

bet against me, you lose
i wouldn't piss in your ear if your brain was on fire
a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest
holding 60 dollars on a burning bridge
emo holocaust
you can lead a man to reason, but you can't make him think
porno, sex, drugs, lies, money, and your local government
highschool was like boot camp for a desk job

and you guessed it:

testosterone makes the world go 'round

(get downloading)

Well guess what? it does. without it, the world would simply stop. well, it would be very VERY different, to say the least. for starters, i would like to suggest the following equation for an n number of pickup 4X4 trucks:

{Testosterone + n*(4 X 4) - a single shred of ( decency and respect for the law AND respect for others )} = 95% of the ignorant pig-headed and arrogant trucks on the road, t=0 to infinity

Why is this the case? Who do these men seriously think they are? These drivers are less than men. They are obviously sooo self-absorbed that they feel that they can drive how they want whenever they want wherever they want. What's more is that when not driving like a batouttahell, trucks can be found poorly parked in parking lots. If you are That Big and can't figure out how to park then get a new car or stay at home.

A few weeks ago, a story on global news reported that 87% of male drivers show aggressive tendencies on the roadways. (This is why I am relating back to men, not women - though some women in these big-ass trucks are just as guilty) 87% !!!! I don't know where they get there stats from, but my 95% figure is definately more representative.

A large part of the reasons behind why men drive their trucks like this is likely very deep-rooted: They are either proclaiming their authority through engine power over us lesser humans, they are showing off to their pretty lil' woman sitting next to them in the cab, hoping that revving the engine a bit more will earn him some tail later, or lastly he is compensating for something else and must speed, weave, tail, intimidate, pass immediately after making a turn, cross solid white lines...the list goes on, to make up for it.

So I race. I hope I don't die. I do what I can to get ahead of a big truck in my little Rio then slow right down to the speed limit. If I see him trying to pass, maybe I will change lanes so he can't. The Henday has become a dangerous place for me, and I know I had better stop letting this get to me. I mean, MADD has had little impact over the past 20 years because driver's attitudes have not changed enough. Well if a drinker's attitude is that hard to change, then how hard must it be to change the attitude of a redneck! (Not to say that the 2 are mutually exclusive).

One of the most intense things I've ever been involved with a truck for was simply walking my dog just down the street by my house. It was well over a year ago but I will never forget how after this asshole pulled out and in front of me while I was in the middle of crossing a relatively small intersection. I chased after him about 3 steps and WHACKED the side of his truck with my fist and shouted "Haven't you ever heard of pedestrian right-of-way!?" Ohhh I was mad. His window was down so he saw and looked at me, then sped off. The thing that worried me the most was having Cosmo with me because, well dogs are dogs, they don't know how idiots don't pay attention to pedestrians crossing at an intersection!

More recently, I was in a situation where I was about to change lanes. Shoulder check, signal, shoulder check, proceed. But somewhere between the second shoulder check and the proceeding part, some half-tonne came blazing out of nowhere - I had to swerve back towards my own lane and just carry on. After a while, I caught up to the guy that flew by me. He sees me coming so pretends to weave into my lane to get even for the scare I suppose I gave him. For some reason though, I think that a half-tonne would have less damage done to it travelling at 140kmh than my little car putzing down the Henday @ maybe 118.


Just tonight on my way home from The Dark Knight, I saw a multi-car collision including a Silverado. The other car was totalled. I wonder who was at fault? (not really). The damage that is caused by trucks is unnecessary. Lives could be saved.

Trucks are incredibly less fuel efficient than sedans, resulting in more emissions to be discharged per distance travelled. They are loud, diesel exhaust can be very irritating to some, and the arrogance that truck driver's carry truly makes me want to...rant in my blog.


Sidenote:

I haven't been driving very long, but I am a huge fans of those out there that can do what they love to do without being dependent on a vehicle. They are costly and they are hazardous when not used cautiously. And even when YOU use caution, it's always gonna be the other guy that get's ya. If you haven't minded not hauling stuff for the past few years, maybe you can hold off and not get that truck and count on someone else to haul your stuff for a few more years. Just a concept.

It's What You Do With It! - Part 3

Part 3: Matters of The Heart

What I've noticed is that when people are "in love" or in a relationship or even are just casually dating, they tend to spend a hell of a lot less time doing things they normally would. For example, blogging becomes virtually extinct. Who cares about getting your opinion out there because at the very least, you have that significant other to rant or rave or even just talk to about what's on your mind. (Or you just fuck, cuz apparently those relationships work well too, to some extent). The other things that tend to become less frequent are your phone calls to buddies, visits to grandmas (see Part 2), watching less late night tv, and finding more appropriate pictures n' stuff to google on the interweb. You might even excercise or eat healthier (at least until they realize that they're partner is getting fat ---- WHAT?!?!?! jk.

Fine and dandy.

So I suppose the only real issue I have with this (besides points addressed in p.2) is that there is no way in hell that a couple can absolutely know for sure that they are with the right person til death does them part by the age of 21 or 22. I have a friend EVEN OLDER THAN ME! that has been in a whole whack of relationships, and this person at least knows that there is more to life out there then settling for somebody second-rate, just so that they can start building their perfect nuclear family in their perfect suburbian house with their ... blah blah, you get the idea.
That person is willing to wait for that one that will float their boat, and just have fun in the mean time.

I've noticed that Country Kids tend to marry young. "yeeeeep, I'm fah-rum m' daddy's farm n' ah 'm gonna bring me home a perrrdy bride next year to help me raise us some chickens!" K, maybe it's not quite like that. In fact the town of Chauvin, Alberta has recently been proven to show otherwise, according to one of my sources. But otherwise, I would stand by my word and say that farm-folk settle and marry young (If I could only find ME a farmer's daughter! --- YEEEE-HAW!) My reasoning is that some of these kids are sooo eager to get away from their small town trap that they just fall in love immediately to some city bloak (or girl) and bear children.

Similarly, Good Little Catholics (like me???) are taught to be true and pure and loyal to one mate (of opposite sex, of course) forever and ever. Recently, I know of 3 couples from the catholic church getting married. Good Catholics are also not supposed to be having the pre-marital sex. By being engrained with such messages from such a young age and then having such a humongous surge of hormones a little later on, it's no wonder that the second that some of these kids find out that "somebody LIKES me" that they are more than willing to make sacrifices, settle for anything, in order to be with that 1 person. No sex for you with anyone else. Ever. Or else if you do, I forget which of Dante's Realms of Hell you end up in, but none seem too inviting.

Some people struggle with the thought of being alone. Some people even fear the idea of it. Sure, I can buy that, but gosh: Get A Room Mate! Unless you are soooo incapable of satisfying those carnal desires, might I reccomend a friend with benefits? But don't fear being alone forever, because, I - being the romantic pisces that I am, believe that there is someone for everyone (except those REAL WEIRDOS obviously, haha). True love waits, according to radiohead anyways.

So yes. Being in 2 or 3 relationships between your late teens and early 20s then fearing to ever move on to a new chapter of your life, to me, is selling out. You are sold into a false belief that you will be the happiest you could be - there is no better match for you anywhere in the world. You've already got a comfortable (mundane) life of normalcy, repitition, mortgage payments, maybe a cat to feed or a lawn to mow. You are stable.

But before you get tooooo stable, know that risk can lead to incredible things, especially when it is your heart that is allowing you to go out and take these risks. The brain is only capable of doing so much!!