The Sky Is Falling - No Seriously!

By now, you've probably heard of the good 'ol hockey stick chart that some of the less informed climate deniers are saying is about as useful as a degree in feminist studies:

http://www.cse.unsw.edu.au/~lambert/parody/tcs/soonlegatesfig1.gif

Since I'm one of the few people in the country to hold a Ph.D. in idealoclimactic scientificism, I felt a certain sense of urgency in sharing with you, esteemed reader, the culmination of more than eighteen grueling minutes of intensive research.

Your umbrella won't be enough for the upcoming deluge. Someone's going to have to start building another ark because a hard rain is going to fall. As an authority on the subject of ideal climates, I feel safe in saying with absolute certainty that the global climate all over the globe is going to be less than ideal.

After more than seven tedious minutes of entering reams of climate data (from more than at least one meteorological study) into my patented climat-o-google, I've ascertained that there is an enormously considerable chance that the sky is indeed falling. It's going to literally rain cats and figuratively rain dogs at some point in the not-too-distant future. With a bit of imagination, the projected trend in the plot almost looks like a doggish cat? I took the liberty of tracing-out the impression in grey. See for yourself:

Oh, and BTW, if anyone happens to debunk my settled science on this matter, I'm gonna sue the fuckin' shit of 'em if they even think of going to the media with their findings.

The science is SETTLED!

   

Ontario Sucks

If you live in Canada, you're figuratively $20,000 richer simply by not making the province of Ontario your home. 

I'm someone who never gambles with money. I probably shouldn't say never. If someone were to invite me to a Casino, I wouldn't be a total stick-in-the-mud, but I couldn't stomach losing more than $60 / year playing blackjack or roulette. I'm the sort of player who cashes-out if I ever find myself up more than 50%. In my own estimation, the only thing worse than instantly losing disposable income, is losing easy gains out of greed. I used to buy the odd $1.00 scratch ticket, but after the 100th "Thanks for playing!" consolation, I just thought, "Man... I could've treated myself to a nice bottle of Scotch!" 

Never will I scratch again. Provincial lotteries really are a tax on fools. You're better off putting your money into silver bullion, art, stamps, or almost anything else... a frivolous fancy meal or a custom seat cover for your car. Even if you were to win millions, such a windfall can be almost as much of a curse as it is good fortune. You know that the family will start hitting you up, and charitable organizations will seek-out your number. You're forced to play favorites. Unless you're extremely prudent and calculating, there's a high likelihood you'll be financially worse off  ten years down the road than you were before hitting the jackpot. Not only that, there's no ingenuity in the way you achieved the wealth - even if you happen to be a genius of a jackpot winner, the reality is that any dimwit can pick random numbers. Even if you win big money, it almost seems as though you inadvertently win a great deal of ostentatious resentment from people who struggle to get by.  Winning several thousand bucks through cleverness on a game show is a far more appealing notion to someone like me who insists on telling the world how God Damn smart I am.

Maybe you're just an inexplicably lucky sort who always find themselves ahead of the game through no fault of their own. I hesitate to say I don't believe in personal luck, because some people seem to fare better in matters of pure chance. Even so, I've never met anyone who's amassed a respectable fortune from routinely hanging out in casinos. It's a fact the house always wins, which tells me it's not unwise to simply not get in the habit of gambling in the first place. There's too many sordid tales of people losing everything they struggled for. I think of the poor old pensioner with a heart of gold spending hour after hour stuffing twenty dollar bills into a VLT at some dim and lonely venue with irritating music streaming over a crappy sound system. 

Of course, I would never dream of advocating against our God-given freedom to shoot ourselves in the foot if we want. I'm a heavy smoker after all. I might even be extremely wealthy today had I carefully invested all that money I've so carelessly burned away on tobacco tax over the past two decades. Fortunately, I don't mind being a starving artist. You can't waste money when you don't make any, and I'm still patting myself on the back for never getting into any consumer debt. Depending on your priorities in life, I can see how a bad credit rating might be preferable to a non-existent one. Whatever. I happen to like the way people react to a thirty-something man with a neutral credit rating. It's somewhat of a rarity these days. 

At the end of the day, I gamble with my time, and I've essentially banked my whole future on writing a few hit songs, or possibly penning an award winning screenplay. I don't think I could even keep my composure through a job interview anymore. I'd probably go into a fit of laughter after trying to deliver the enthusiastic rhetoric with a straight face.

Sometimes I get on a techie tangent, and fancy myself as being the next big star of Silicon Valley. Such fantasies tend to be short-lived when the reality of trying to encode my novel ideas into a list of precise 'computerese' instructions sets-in. It makes more sense for me to focus on music and words since I'm already a competent writer and musician. If you've ever attempted to compose a computer program, you'll realize a new found respect for the cyber-pioneers behind our information age and the exceedingly complex things they're capable of designing.

Fortunately, so much spade work has already been done for us end-users. With minimal direction and a good computer, any goofball can start making a digital painting, or attach an image to an email. Modern intuitive operating systems allow even the most reluctant computer newbie to get online and start fights on Twitter. On that note, so many people seem so high-strung these days - impulsive accusations of racism flying around everywhere comes to mind. I say: lighten-up you pantie-waists! Learn to articulate your position instead of hiding behind the "me too" group-think society and calling someone a "disgusting human being" before learning all the facts!   

Of course there's a downside to user-friendliness, and it's when something less than obvious goes wrong. Hobbyist hackers exploiting the unwitting and such. It never hurts to take a bit of time to gain at least a modicum of understanding about how the web works - especially if you're using it for financial purposes. Sometimes I worry about sticking my neck out just by sharing so many of my thoughts on this web log, but I'm also a firm believer in freedom of expression, and here I am, balls deep in Lady Liberty, and it feels so good! 

A

Probably Not My Last Dance With Mary Jane

Different experts on the subject will arrive at various different conclusion regarding the addictive properties of THC - the active psychedelic ingredient in cannabis. The general consensus is that it's not physically addictive in the way nicotine or heroin seem to be. I haven't tried heroin before, but I do smoke tobacco. Although I haven't made a point of keeping close track or anything, it's probably been at least 772 hours and 47 minutes since I last "blazed" a marijuana cigarette. Let's call it a month. Self-judging from my own experience, I would tend to agree with the experts. 

So how am I feeling? I'll admit that if I had a bag of B.C. bud within reach at this very moment, I probably wouldn't hesitate to roll-up a little pinner for myself, but I'm not "hurtin' man" - I don't feel at all compelled to seek out a toke or anything. I'm not actively trying to quit weed, I simply haven't made any effort to "score" any for weeks. There were no physical pangs of withdrawal to speak of, but the psychological dependence I managed to form over a decade of habitual and recreational use of the stinky flower cannot easily be dismissed. As I pointed-out in my previous post, it's actually kinda nice to be clear of those resinous cobwebs for a change - the perpetual dopiness of the regular stoner.

Now that I'm "clean", I could probably pass one of those pre-employment drug screening urinalysis tests that the big oilfield companies insist upon having their affiliated contractors administer to new hires. Not that I'm especially interested in pursuing such a line of work anyway, but being surrounded by the industry, the thought did occur to me. Clean or not, I would never lower myself to piss into a cup for anyone other than a family physician anyway. It's a matter of dignity.

Sure there's good companies out there, but humour me by wrapping your mind around this potentiality: Someone with a bit of sway in the company you've been working with for a couple of months suddenly decides they don't like you. Or maybe the board of directors is forced to implement austere measures to free-up capital, and one fateful morning you find yourself being asked to submit to a random drug test - remember, it looks better on the books to fire someone with due cause than to lay them off. Even if you're clean as a whistle, don't think for one second that a seedy lab technician can't be bought-off for the price of fifteen minutes' worth of hand-job in some low-rent massage parlour! If you can buy a false negative, it tells me that the reverse holds true. 

Now, not only do you find yourself out of a job, but your reputation is needlessly besmirched. As a working chump with limited means, what recourse do you have? A union? Nobody cares about you! The grease, the muck and the bitumen aren't the only dirty aspects of working in the patch, eh? 

Not surprising really, but the whole world of low-skilled working for a living becomes shittier by the day. You can't work in a commercial environment without being under video surveillance the entire shift. I can understand the necessity of it, but it's still dehumanizing. That might seem strange coming from someone who intentionally videotapes himself singing songs to upload them to my You Tube channel, but it's the principal. You Tube isn't forcing me to be on You Tube, and my exposure is controlled by my own executive authority. 

When you find yourself working in a convenience store, how can you be assured that the dickwash manager isn't capturing footage from your shift on a drawer-full of flash drives? Maybe even profiting from your likeness by selling the footage of you to a biometrics firm? A bit of a stretch perhaps, but not at all implausible.  

I used to somewhat like driving big trucks for a living. Turn the wheel, push the gas. Deliver the cargo, exchange pleasantries with the client, and get the waybill signed. Keep track of your maintenance, and don't crash into anything. Simple enough, right? 

These days, I don't think you can expect to get behind the wheel of a company truck that isn't equipped with a GPS tracking device. There's no room for trust in a global economy. The world of logistics is so competitive that every meter of every route needs to be analyzed and micro-managed by the egghead department. Stop-off for a hoagie and a piss at the 7-Eleven, and your mobile phone is going-off before you can even whip-out the ol' firehose! 

"What are doing at 7-Eleven, driver eight?" 

The future of trucking is headed toward autonomous transport vehicles anyway, and it's likely only a matter of a several more years before human drivers are removed from the equation altogether. The only freight that's not going to be handled by robotic systems will be stuff like flowers and pianos. I remember loading my own upright grand piano onto a pick-up truck - a task I hope to never repeat!

  

    

Gallery of Musings

It's Saturday morning, and I thought I'd create a little gallery of some of my image submissions to Facebook over the past year.

To the left, you can see I'm not above drinking cheap swill for a good buzz. It wasn't my first time knocking back a sixer of Black ICE on a Wednesday afternoon, but it was my first encounter with a pressure-release fail-safe device on a beer can!

 I earned the nickname Donkey Balls in high school after a friend of mine caught a glimpse of my nut sack in the boy's change room at school. I used to be a pretty ballsy character, but these days I rarely leave the house, and prefer sedentary activities like writing and music-making to rodding vehicles through thick brush and mud for kicks. I'm a real housecoat and slippers guy now. Walking the dog to the boozemart constitutes adventure enough for me these days, and you won't catch me jumping out of airplanes or getting into fistfights if I can help it!

On the right is just one of the many pieces of conceptual weirdness I'm
responsible for. It's been almost a month since I've had so much as a
toke - which is quite an achievement for someone who's been a bag-a-week level pot smoker for the last decade or so. I'm not writing-off
ever getting high for recreational purposes, but the new found mental
clarity isn't an unwelcome state. If you're a weed-lover like me, I would
highly recommend trying a lengthy reprieve from the reefer madness!


Women. Women in politics. Can you see my eyes rolling? I'm half-kidding. I'm not really a chauvinist, and I don't have any sort of beef whatsoever with women in politics - I have a problem with progressives and idealists in politics. I hate the idea of a good man losing to a terrible woman because guilt-ridden men and "gonna-show-those-men" type women ascribe to a manufactured perception of gender bias in official capacities. Did that make any sense?

 As far as I can tell, the greenest aspect of the greenies green movement is the colour of the foreign money at stake. I've can't help but notice parallels between those who espouse climate dictates and their lock-step stance on other matters. It's more of a stick-it-to-the-honest-worker movement if you ask me. An effort to dismantle our Christian tradition. The double standards of progressives are as transparent as their designer eye-wear.

Here is my current Premiere un-elect. He's taken the reigns of provincial power after poor Ms. Redford was forced to resign from the top job because of the misogynistic elements woven into the fabric of every Alberta institution. It had nothing to do with the mounting public disgust over her lavish, jet-setting, whimsical five-star waltzing around the world. Nothing to do with the relentless questioning: When? Where? How much? and Why? Why did you feel so entitled to spend our public money like a Saudi prince? Come-on people! She's a MOM!

 Sometimes I just open-up Microsoft Paint and get busy. I don't expect my frivolous works of pixelated colour to win any awards, but as we all know, art is in the eye of the beholder, and I like to think someone might one day classify my efforts as unsung genius? In any capacity, it's a bit of harmless and relaxing fun to do impulsive artwork, I find. Put on some good tunes and break-out the paintbrush! Digital paint is so much less messy... and cheaper too.

 Everyone's sick these days. Go get your shots, you filthy wretch! I find the best medicine is prevention - remain in your house and don't shake anyone's hand! Seriously, I used to be very social, but now-a-days I get more satisfaction from being my own best friend. Most people I know have extremely busy lives, and don't seem interested or available to join me in the sorts of projects I'm interested in pursuing. It's lonely, but the upside is that I never worry about contracting the flu!

 Just another example of messing-around with graphics. Cutting, pasting, inverting, flipping, recomposing...What innocently begins with a couple of words can devolve into a big psychedelic mish-mash of retardedness when you're cooked out of your gourd! Case in point!

 Ah Mila! The apple of my eye. She's my little puppy dog, and she loves everyone. Dog people will understand me when I say there is no comparison to the spirited loyalty of the K-9 unit. They perceive our intent before we even know what we're thinking of doing. They can smell danger a mile away. They exude unconditional love. Incredible little bundles of cuteness and devotion. I used this image as an avatar on my Soundcloud channel - Invalidator.

 I wouldn't want to see this sign hanging in a breakfast spot! For the last 25 years of my life, not a day has begun without the magical beans that awaken my mind! I suppose I could adapt eventually, but the world would be far less bearable without the fast-acting properties of caffeine, and in my opinion, there's no tastier and satisfying way to deliver it than a steaming cup of strong coffee made from freshly ground Brazilian coffee beans.

It's special alright! Wow! Am I ever a bold thinker! Just look at the unrestrained use of contrasts and conservative use of colour! Gosh... if people don't like me for my singing, maybe they'll like me for my portfolio of transitional artwork?

Justin for Prime Minister! I'm actually a big fan of Stephen Harper, but in a Canada with Trudeau at the helm, who knows? Maybe I'd have an easier time taking your money in the form of a grant? I bet Trudeau would redistribute wealth like no one before him? All I really know is that nothing ever seems to work-out the way I'd like it to - regardless of who's in charge.

Are you richer than you think? All I know is that being perpetually flat-broke is a safe zone for this web logger. I don't mind being unemployed in my parent's basement too much. I've never held any consumer debt in my life, and I don't see the logic in paying interest on a depreciating asset like a vehicle. For me, going out and working all day to put gas in a motor car doesn't compute. If I were to ever borrow money, it'd be on the premise of a probable return on my investment - like a commercial delivery vehicle or a solid business venture. Working all day at something I hate for low wages isn't worth my time, and I've met people who spend half their day slugging it out just to keep up with outstanding debts. I don't want to be that person, so I find contentment with the few things I do have, and embrace my cheap hobbies.

 New World Order alert! I don't know who to trust. I believe The Vatican is the wealthiest entity on the planet, and that no major plays are ever made without their express approval. Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing is immaterial to someone like myself. I like to keep current and to share my opinions and observances on social media. Will it make a difference in the long run? There's only one way to find out!

Not a big fan of Ms. Wynne - the current Premier of Ontario. She strikes me as some kind of power hungry career elitist. I prefer leaders with more diversity. Someone who's served in the military, achieved some measure of success in the private sector, and knows something about everything. I don't doubt that Kathleen has a razor sharp mind for political strategy, and that frightens me when such guile is possessed by someone with an entitlement complex. Just my impression. I hope she doesn't sue me!

Internet Video? Pay-Up, Chump!

Yesterday evening, I happened to catch the Lang / O'Leary exchange on CBC. Kevin, the realist of the duo, was musing about an end to the so-called net-neutrality - or what essentially amounts to Ineternet service providers charging a flat rate for an unlimited volume of data - his reasoning being that heavy consumers are realizing an unfair advantage. With more big networks moving toward offering audio / video streaming services online, bandwidth might soon be at a premium - given "micro-expansion" advancements don't keep-up. Either way, manufactured scarcity is the God given right of the supplier.

As a conservative minded person, I have no problem with this. Use more, pay more. It's the essence of our free market. Can't afford it? Consider cutting-back on your free video watching. Fair is fare.

Such a move would compel a return to the days when ordinary folk would treat their internet access as a pay-per-megabyte service... which indeed was the default in days of yore - before multiplexing aggregates turned the internet into a collectivist equation. Now that optimal efficiency has been fine-tuned to the point that unlimited bandwidth is a given, ISPs can effectively allocate dedicated buffer zones, making poor people think twice before they go on a bit torrent binge. As they should.

One of my friends seemed astounded to learn that I don't engage in downloading copyrighted material using bit torrents.

"Why not?" he asked.

"It's against the law," I said. He seemed confused.

I also predict a certain grass roots reflex might take place if ISPs were to adopt buck-per-gigabit payment scheme. Get your pencils out, all you fuckers who ascribe to my wisdom without giving me any credit, as I'm about to sneeze something out yet again:

WCAP - Wireless Collective Aggregate Protocol.

Wrap your regurgitating mind around THAT!

Canada's Free Market Dictatorship

Early this morning, as my caffeine fueled mind was reluctantly succumbing to the societal ordinances that dictate staying awake past 3:00 a.m. is an indication of insomnia, I was fine-tuning a business model that I'd formulated some years ago.

When describing the essence of this model to people, they never seem to grasp the gist of it. They're trapped in the proverbial boxed-in thinking about how things work.

I say: in order to arrive at 'Z', we need to subtract 'C', 'D', and 'E'.

Then they essentially contribute, "Yeah! But you should also add 'C', 'D', 'E', and 'F' to make it better!

They've missed the point entirely. I'm thinking in terms of simplifying inventory and eliminating unnecessary labour costs while they're already mentally spending the profit on aesthetic ideals. Whereas I am designing structural efficiency in a business model, they are introducing expensive complexities. They are thinking in terms of colours and fonts, as I propose ways to extract a share of global equity in an already saturated market. It's frustrating.

If I had to describe my business model in two words, they would be, "limiting permutations."

If I had to define my strategy, it would simply be, "Fuck you, Otherguy."

Here's what I shared on Facebook this afternoon:

Even though I consider myself a CPC loyalist, I've devised a way to really stick-it to those Wendy's shareholders... you know, that AmeriCanadian take-out coffee monopoly otherwise known "Timmy's?"

I was watching Question Period one day, and was somewhat taken aback when one of the CPC members slipped an homage to Tim Horton's into his little soliloquy in the House of Commons... it was like an inside joke... his colleagues all chuckled as though they knew something the rest of us didn't.

Now... I know people adore their double-doubles in the morning, afternoon, and the nighttime... heck, even I like Timmy's coffee too (black... in a small format), but damned if it isn't the only gig in town other than hipster-friendly Starbucks.

Why do you think Canada insisted on stabilizing Afghanistan - apart from securing the rich mineral wealth for The Queen, getting a leg-up on the world's opium supply, and the pipeline route to the Ukraine?

Arab coffee beans, friends. Think about it... one of the first mandates of the Minister of Defense was to put what in Afghanistan? That's right... the Double-Double King!

Well friends, I tell you that Wendy's shareholders are in for some urgent price fixing thanks to my latest development. I plan to use crowd sourcing to foster start-up capital for my new venture, and finally, small town Canadians will once again have a choice in molded plastic sitting areas. This is a franchise opportunity. I've already fleshed-out the permutations, the marginal errors, and the distinguishing elements that should lead to the extraction of up to 20% of Wendy's volume sales.

Nobody really gets pinched too hard if everything goes according to plan. The market is saturated which is why Timmy's relies upon an expansionist model. I was simply thinking about how strange it is that in our free market dictatorship, there exists little to no competition in the take-out cream & sugar department. McDonald's, A&W, and a few others serve-up decent coffee, but my franchise model is an entirely different animal from the aforementioned.

Thanks to my imaginative business model, Canadians will yet again have a choice between lining-up out the door for their double-double, or strolling next-door to the "Fuck You Wendy's" enterprise!

Are Temporary Foreign Workers Vital To Alberta's Economy?

A previous version of this article misrepresented an article from the Cold Lake Sun, implying that no reference was made to a party quoted in the article. I hereby apologize to Ms. Seraphim and both of my readers for this oversight.This sort of lack of professionalism on my part lends itself to why I am a just a silly, unsolicited freelance opinion writer, and she is an esteemed editor of an important regional newspaper. 

If it weren't for the temporary foreign worker program, Alberta's economy would collapse. Overnight. Seriously. Without our hospitality sector having access to a steady supply of  foreign-national five star chefs with cruise ship experience... to lift baskets of chips out of the deep fryer for 38.5 hours a week at $10.26 / hour, lucrative jobs in the oil patch would quickly dry-up, and all other labour sectors would thereafter follow suit.

Don't take it from me. It's what key industry players are saying. TFWs are vital to regional economies that suffer from acute labour shortage.

"You're never going to get a coffee at Tim Horton's if we don't have this program," says Richard Wurst, general manager of Bonnyville's Neighbourhood Inn. - Cold Lake Sun

Never mind primary industry, as everyone in Canada knows, we wouldn't have so much as a military if we didn't sustain our Tim Horton's restaurants with keen workers from the Philippines. Our national economy hinges on unfettered access to take-away coffee, freeze-dried donuts, and some gritty, spicy substance labeled on the menu as "Chili."

Call me a snob, but I'd be reluctant to pour what Tim Horton's calls "soup" over my dog's expensive kibble cruchies! Honestly, if it weren't for the Internet, someone like myself wouldn't notice for months - or maybe even years - if the whole chain of outlets vaporized one fateful night! I'd be driving by the former location at some point in the future, and asking my passenger, "Hey! Where'd the Timmy's go?"

Let's be real. It's all part of a calculated maneuver to see small-fry proprietors compromised into a dependence on global finance. It's a web of dependencies. A chaos-theory economy if you will. If you're lucky enough to own a single location of a multi-national franchise, you might as well don the front-line uniform yourself and grab a mop bucket. You're at the mercy of trans-national corporate policy now. You asked for it, and they gave it to you in spades. Keep on slingin' those double-doubles!








 

Happy Easter!

Before discovering SoundCloud, I'd often resort to hastily slapping together a quick video as a catalyst for my music on YouTube. Oftentimes, they were a motley arrangement of disjointed clips, strung together impulsively without much care. Some of my friends admitted they found them to be all but entirely unwatchable!

Here's a raw and unedited clip I made this morning. It's the piano foundation for a song I'm working on, and I think it has promise. The great thing about checking-in here, esteemed reader, is that if I ever make-it big-time, you can tell people how you used to get the inside scoop on my progress from a little-known web log! I was layering some guitars atop it earlier in the evening, but I didn't quite achieve what I was after. Tomorrow's another day.

 I made a great deal of video recordings when I lived in Edmonton. Much of it is just stock footage type stuff - walking down the sidewalk, dogs in the park... some of it is drunken guitar playing, jam sessions with my cronies, and bizarre and humourous conversations... a lot of crap to sift through, but potentially good source material for music videos or narratives. There was a time I was sure I'd be the next big You Tube star, but I really do have a face for radio, if not a voice for print!

The primary HDD of the computer I used to process it on bit the dust. Luckily, I made a point of keeping all the video on the secondary HDD, which is now resting in yet another second-hand computer that I've been using to build my Linux server project. So far it's been stable and reliable. 

Last year, I built a website from scratch called, "bandstandaround.com" intended primarily to host my own music, and with the idea in mind that it might one day become a boutique online record label venture... it was functional, and I learned a bit about web development, but alas, I ran out of money to cover the hosting fees.

Today, I operate under the moniker "Invalidator" on SoundCloud - a superbly clean and intuitive platform to showcase my music sans video on. Pleased to learn that Soundcloud is on the up and up with $60 Million in free money for expanding their business. I sometimes come up with interesting ideas for websites - the next venture I'm concocting should prove interesting. Win or lose, it's nice to live in a country with a free market to launch ideas in, that's for sure!

Have a happy and blessed Easter!   

Let-Down Avenue

Last night, as I coughed and wheezed myself to sleep, I began thinking about my own mortality. I was considering how much of a blessing it would be to live to a ripe old age - provided one has enough money to live comfortably. As it stands right now, I don't need a job to survive, and I can spend my days writing songs, painting pictures, watching FOX News, or whatever. But what if I did need a job? What on earth would I do?

I'd be surprised if I didn't simply whither-up and die! I'm not trying to be melodramatic or cast any blame here, it's just that my practical mind fails to see how I'd generate enough income to actually support myself. Given the sort of pathetic wage range I'd be looking at in the unskilled labour market, merely getting-by in this economy without burning the candle at both ends is nigh impossible. If you don't mind spending sixty hours a week raking shit or loading trucks, just to afford to sit back in some cramped dive in a crime ridden neighbourhood to watch cable TV with a bag of peanuts and a six-pack of discount beer every night... then that's a perfectly noble approach to life, and nobody can tell you otherwise. But at the risk of seeming indignant, such a scenario doesn't exactly motivate this lazy slacker to go out there and git 'em, sport!

Check out this Edmonton listing that features "rare mahogany kitchen cabinets". What's the catch? You have to PROVE that your income isn't too high! Unbelievable. Only in Edmonton, but who wants to live in Mill Woods anyhow? Firebombings are an bi-annual event in that neighbourhood.

When it comes to generating income these days, it seems you're damned if you do, and damned if you don't. There's always someone waiting in a thicket for you to finish building your sandcastle so they can kick the shit out of it before castigating you for not spending your time helping them with their homework. "How dare you be a selfish creator of jobs! You should be penalized for your success and forced to subsidize the party-on lifestyles of helpless single mothers with drug habits," cries the bitter social activist.  

But let's face it, once you're in a situation where your rent costs alone account for more than half of your low-wage earnings, even a modest outing at the bowling alley once a month will seem beyond extravagant. You have to sacrifice little luxuries like your main dietary staple of brand-name peanut butter in order to afford so much as a long distance telephone call once a month to commiserate with a sibling over the futility of it all. Hey! Wanna go for a pint of beer? Gee, I'd love to, but I always stay home on Friday nights to clip coupons in preparation for Saturday Madness at the supermarket.

Fuck that noise. I'd honestly rather not endure such a retarded struggle with no discernible finish line in sight. Thank goodness nobody is depending on me for the basics of life! If I had kids, I suppose I might be more determined to fight-it-out in the competitive job market for their sake, even in the knowledge that their childhood lives are destined to wind miserably along a shadowy, twisting path of sadness and confusion, demarcated by successively more disappointing milestones on the way to Let-Down Avenue. 

In moments of contemplative reflection, I feel as though I've lived a relatively rich life insofar. It'd be fulfillment enough for me if I can manage to write at least one great song before I kick the bucket. Had I taken life more seriously over the past two decades, I might find myself in a more financially enviable position ... or I might very well be dead already. It's a matter of perspective. When I think of that sixteen-year-old kid who was recently trampled to death doing the rodeo thing, I feel pretty fortunate, if undeserving, to have come this far. Of course it's shockingly tragic, and I can't begin to imagine his parents' grief, but at least the brave lad was pursuing his passion when he passed. My hat is off to him. 

Doesn't it break your heart to hear stories of children with terminal diseases who spend their young lives relegated to a hospital bed? Or all the innocent kids going hungry because their little agrarian village was ransacked and torched, and their parents slaughtered by marauding mercenaries over political posturing? The orphaned victims of preventable diseases like AIDS or scurvy? Some world!

On a lighter note, I managed to install some vintage software on my laptop. Now I have a bucket-load of new fonts, a spreadsheet program, and a computerized calendar to jot-down all the appointments I'll never make!

  

Edginess... expressionism... I just don't know :(

I'm sober tonight.

Believe it or not, I'm sober most nights these days, but whenever I start drinking, I have a tendency to drink more... and more... and that sometimes leads to writing somewhat incendiary posts concerning subjects I really have no authority to discuss with any level of certainty in regard to the accuracy of my claims and opinions. I'm a strong believer in absolute freedom of thought and speech, because it ensures our ability to defend our other inalienable rights - to call out tyranny. Plus, I have enough faith in most people's ability to scrutinize nonsense and research questionable claims.

Last night, it seems I was outraged over female genital mutilation. Who wouldn't be, right?  I'm not going to apologize for my outrage, but I deleted the post because I don't really want this site's subject matter to focus on contentious issues - especially when I can't be sure of all the facts. What I would like, is for people to see art, poetry, and literature at a glance when they come to this web address. So....

Here's my latest music video. Check it out!

This week, I promise more content, and I hope you check in regularly as I'm planning to post a great deal of humourous and interesting material.

Cheers!

Skinny MILF With Big Tits

Inexplicable computer glitches will be the death of me.

After an evening of chugging-around online, studying problematic technical cases similar to your own, your layman's brain is exhausted. You've spent hour after hour engaging in multiple tedious trials to work around incompatibility issues. Eventually, if you're persistent enough, everything seems to coalesce. Your computing device is finally cooperating, and the cyber-sprockets are meshing without any grinding error messages bleeping you awake at every turn.

So you call it a night. You'll sleep on some ideas, and commit to resuming production tomorrow after breakfast - without the distraction of having to worry about a bunch of tinkering-about with software patches between each measly step of production.

The following day, you're reinvigorated and feeling rather enthused about piecing together some fantastic multimedia stuff. You import some video clips, arrange some sound, and just when you think you're channeling Picasso, shit starts mysteriously freezing-up for no apparent reason. Hey! It was working just fine last night God damn it!

Before you know it, your stubbornness to win has drawn you back to Google, and you find yourself entering search terms like "VLC Media Player Codec Compatability Windows Movie Maker .avi .wma interlace PAL NTSC" and sifting through reams of poorly written questions and smug answers. I might just as well enter "skinny MILF with big tits" and fuck my own hand.

Fuck it. Fuck the whole schmere. I've been idiotically fucking around with this shit patiently for far too long now. Eleven hundred hours and three used computers later is enough to convince me that the entire consumer digital media structure is modeled after a carrot on a stick. I thought I could make some simple digital works of art without spending a fortune on equipment or getting a degree in computing science.

I was wrong. Skinny MILF with big tits wrong.

Bearded Prostitute

He suddenly became aware of the decades of grit and grime from a deteriorating linoleum floor squishing between his toes. Teletubbies was at full volume on the television. Dave wanted badly to silence the squeaky costumed characters, but he knew the remote was buried deep in the folds of a comforter smelling strongly of stale smoke and cheap lager. Anyway, doing so would mean either setting-down his half-eaten sandwich of margarine and raw donkey assholes, or freeing his other hand from inside the pants of the sixty-two year old bearded prostitute who was now moaning contentedly as his fingers worked their magic betwixt her long neglected nether-regions.

Managed to get a few stills of one of my favorite rock bands before someone told me to lose the camera.

I hate margerine. My life is infuriating. Since I can't seem to turn a single dime writing music and blog posts, perhaps I could routinely paint disgusting scenes like that, and someone could pay me to NOT publish them?

If you found this post because you follow me on Twitter, I apologize... that is, for the drunken crap I chunk out in 140 character packets while boozing every so often. My situational frustrational confusional delusionism is a genuine psychological handicap. I'm just awaiting a diagnosis so I can collect $1600 / month from Alberta every month.

If you've followed my blog at all, then you know about the deleterious situation I find myself in. On one hand, I'm grateful for the luxury of not having to have a job, but being a 37 year old basement dweller isn't at all glamorous or stellar. I want to be drunk as much as humanly possible... apart from television and computers it's a cheap form of entertainment to amuse myself with. For a few dollars / hour, I can escape my pathetic reality and pretend people online care what I think. Throw a little cannabis into the mix, and the dim confines of my bedroom refuge magically transforms into an ephemeral wonderland. This underachieving slob doesn't need an SUV and a credit card for a fun trip!

My folks probably expect more from their only son, but of course they, along with the rest of the world, can't even begin to understand me. I don't think blowing-off steam with a case of beer and a pack of smokes is altogether unreasonable behavoir. I know it's improper to discuss other people's private lives, and I dearly love my folks. I'm hardly a ray of sunshine at the best of times, but they can be such outright hypocrites, man. The hypocrisy, dude. I mean, they accuse me of being negative. I'll just say that if you think I'm some kind of ingrate, try living with a couple of miserable seniors and leave it at that.

When I read the headlines, it saddens me greatly. The indignities and atrocities committed every day, and the awful crimes people are capable of. Thinking of how many innocent people are soft-killed through starvation, or even outright massacred just so some little lord can satisfy his material greed in this wasteful military-industrial complex of a world... it's almost paralyzes the mind. If our civilization is on the precipice of a major conflict, I know I don't want to be mindlessly moving boxes around some faceless grey warehouse for peanut pay or cursing rush hour traffic as the bomb hits!

Even when I make money, I don't buy new things. My worldly possessions wouldn't fill a cube van. I have a typewriter, a 70's-centric vinyl collection, a video camera, two computers, a few shelves of books, two guitars, an amplifier, a casual wardrobe, and various pieces of home electronics. If I were to ever make a bunch of dough, I'd probably get a nice electric guitar and give the rest to my Mom so she could dole it out to me as a weekly beer & cigarette allowance. Money tends to burn a hole in my pocket if there's a juke joint within walking distance, so I'd be doing myself a favour.

Given my inability to keep my mouth shut aftera few pints, there's always a good chance of some angry combative type taking out his frustrations on me for inadvertently making a waitress laugh. I can generally box my way out of a fight, but I'm no seasoned scrapper and my smoker's lungs are wheezing before I've thrown a dozen poorly-timed haymakers. Getting into a brawl with 300 lb riggers is foolhardy at best, and potentially deadly to my slim, artistic frame.

Here's hoping you have a nice, moderately indulgent weekend, esteemed reader, and don't hesitate to be the first to chuck five bucks into my endowment fund if you enjoyed this piece of enlightened blog-talk, but a thoughtful comment would mean just as much to me. In fact, if you're the first to leave a comment, I'll put together an exclusive audio CD of my favorite tracks with some hand-signed liner notes and mail it to you.