Ambiguity & Aspirations

Esteemed Reader;

When it comes to Canada, I know very little about the interrelationships between our judicial system, our parliamentary protocol, and or our Supreme Court. As limited as my own understanding may be, I suspect that the average Canadian knows far less.

Once you begin to examine the history of politicians running roughshod over people's liberties and livelihoods, you'll find little in the way of resistance until after the damage has been done. Billions of dollars de-materialize without so much as a "hey, wait a minute here pal", and people never seem to notice until the evidence has been made into confetti, and the fallout takes effect on their household budget. Nobody bothers to read the small print or present effective arguments, and governments will do everything imaginable to avert public scrutiny until they're ready to take the chisel to the tablet.

I've never really experienced what it's like to have a livelihood, and so I sit back as a well-fed casual observer and watch other people struggle to make ends meet while their elected representatives in government live the good life on hidden tax revenue. A cult of personality elevating itself into a parasitical elite class.

Stephen Harper is criticized for appealing to the Supreme Court when everyone knew that the outcome was a forgone conclusion. I see his resolve as a series of expository exercises. Pushing one envelope at a time until the stack of mail casts a shadow of doubt that no bias exists. Exposing  the redundancies of a sitting authority as it relates to a parliament that practices democracy through perseverance... or something like that. While all manner of theoretical and scientific means are available to predict the likeliest outcome, you can never know with absolute certainty whether or not the seed will sprout until after you've added water and waited.
  

Ambiguous Potentialities

Wow. Not one squiggly red underscore after pasting-in this piece from a word processor sans spell-check. I'm getting good!

Here's a little diagram I made to illustrate a technique I came-up with a long time ago to free-up a passing lane. It always infuriated me when someone was cruising along in the outside lane, seemingly oblivious to the massive traffic congestion they're solely responsible for. My simple approach always worked like a charm, though I should warn that you employ it at your own risk: with so many hot-headed powder kegs out there, don't blame me if things go awry!

While waiting for the dog to come inside last night, I noticed one of those fruit infused yogurt cups with a foil cover in the refrigerator. Its best before date came and went over a month ago, so I gave it a good whiff before grabbing a spoon. It didn't seem to taste quite as it should, but it wasn't at all putrid - usually, if i eat yogurt at all, it's the plain stuff.

Despite some intestinal discomfort as I drifted-off to experience some incredibly complex dreamscapes, my stomach feels just fine this morning. 

It's a relief to finally be turning some serious coin again, and if trends continue, it looks as though a Ural motorcycle will be in the cards before summer's end. All I've got to do is to maintain my relative sobriety and continue working-out problems related to economies of scale for my friends in the EU. I never dreamed my unorthodox and impulsive approach to mathematics would ever be of value to anyone. 

Mean saturation vs projected permutation of gross domestic product as a factor of redacted deficit differential over [CPI (Commonwealth) vs DELTA {inflation/GDP*debt}] within a period of time. Something like that. These relationships just occur to me much like a chord progression in a song.

Economics as a musical movement in a song in the key of commerce. Certain things are obvious to me, and people, when properly classified, have spending habits that are easily predictable and malleable - they can be correographed and orchestrated - one step forward two steps back. Impulse vs. caution, labour vs. laziness. 

Whichever metric I consider, things aren't looking good for the ordinary bloke in the not-too-distant future. I predict a period of massive layoffs, escalating crime, rising food / energy costs, and war. People will sink or swim, and naturally, for every pedestrian who's left treading water, a dozen will drown. 

The inherent infinitissimal nature of demographics is an intangible that is continually in a state of flux. While it can be tedious to derive certainty from ambiguous potentialities, I feel safe in suggesting that most of us are about to get hooped!

The REAL Twitteroid!

There I sat, at the computer upstairs, having a good time making comments on The Facebook and little Twitterer observations, when the whole household wireless Internet suddenly - inexplicably - ceased to work! All this after I had taken the time to carefully reset all the God Damn modem and wireless settings! Maybe I'm just feeling self-important or paranoid, but I tell you, Esteemed Reader, it all seemed just a little bit too selective for my liking, eh? 

Once you have over 900 followers on Twitter, you know someone is listening. I acquired my followers organically - that is, I didn't pay for them. They follow me because I'm real, and I tend to tweet whatever's on my mind.

If you were to take the time to check-out who actually follows me, you might be surprised... even I forget celebrities sometimes. I'm someone who makes a point of periodically blocking any "spiritless husk" accounts that happen to pick-up on my novelty. The bots. Data miners. If someone were to analyse the legitimacy of my followers, the results would likely set me, @moremoreenough, well apart from the herd. I'm a realist. Quality over quantity.

 Anyone can mine data. I sometimes keep screen shots of Facebook exchanges. If I were a keener, I'd probably make a point of logging everything - but I'm just an indie Canadian musician. Musician beats data miner!

Omar And Me

I've written over 250 articles, and I have yet to see one cent for my time and effort. I think it's time to throw-in the towel and start turning the wheel and pushing the gas pedal as an oilfield bus driver so I can afford to slowly drink myself to death on something other than domestic swill.

$38 / hour is what it's going to cost to keep me from sharing my opinion on the Internet throughout the day. It beats the kick in the ass I'm getting for spending so much time attempting to provide helpful insights and endeavoring to become an authority on... something.

Right now, I do chores for cigarettes, food, shelter, and the privilege of being on-call 24/7. I don't know what my folks expect from me. It feels as though I've been built-up just to become a scapegoat for every undesirable element of their lives. A misgiving of an ill-fated double-down blackjack hand. A pariah. A egregious misfit. I don't even like hockey.

Mom taught me to read before I was four, and I took to it - I was highly curious, and loved to lord knowledge over others. Now I'm expected to embrace the mainstream? To be happy scraping gunk under the supervision of some semi-literate wanker for a living? Piano lessons at six, and I'm chastised for making too much noise in my humble studio / bedroom once a week... even though I endure the likes of City Line, Dr. Phil, General Hospital, Amazing Race, etc. blasting at full volume every night?  Perhaps you think me an ingrate, esteemed reader - perhaps I am. I might be better-off today had my folks simply neglected their only child a bit more, and kicked me out the door when I was eighteen.

Someone like Omar Khadr would probably turn his nose-up at the sort of wage-work I'm considering... maybe I'm a sucker? Maybe I should just join the Taliban / Al Quieda / CIA, kill some Americans, spend a decade in prison, and then get $10 million bucks from the Canadian government upon being released? I know I sure won't make $1 million a year at an honest, unskilled job, and I'll gladly endure a daily routine of three squares and a chair punctuated by a bit of water-boarding for that kind of money! It wouldn't be much of an adjustment from my current situation. Heck, even a University President only averages about $280,447!

Since my input of opinion is of no consequence, and I'm shunned from polite society, provincial politics has become little more than theatrical amusement for me. The governance of the day really has zero impact on the average person's bottom line... the one constant being that you should expect to get bilked six ways to Sunday regardless of who holds the scepter. I won't even bother casting a provincial vote anymore.




I'm still anxiously waiting for the arrival of the Arturia Minilab MIDI keyboard. You should understand, esteemed reader, having this unassuming electronic doodad at my disposal will be the highlight of my whole year... made possible by a extraordinary couple, devout Catholics, who God has blessed with an appreciable number of impressively nice children who I'm certain will become paragons of virtue if not proverbial pillars of whichever communities they eventually choose to reside within. It's the second year in a row that they've gotten me a Long & McQuaig gift certificate as a Christmas gift.

Although I'm not religiously affiliated myself, I become suspicious of motives whenever anyone disparages the Catholic faith in my presence - the same way I become suspicious whenever anyone starts attacking anything. It's been my experience that vehement attacks on institutions often originate with perceived sleights that are, more often than not, really just a deflection of the complainant's own personal failings. I don't mean to suggest that Roman Catholicism is the essence of purity in matters divine, just to point-out that the exceptional is often a target for malfeasance.

I cannot help but to think of this selfless family as perhaps one of the finer examples of the good people who comprise today's Catholics. Peel away the layers of controversy that has surrounded the faith throughout history, and what you're left with are honest folks sincerely striving to manifest the truthful teachings of Jesus Christ - and who can argue with the wholesomeness and righteousness of Christ?

God bless him, Satan sure tries!

Theosophy is of course a matter of discussion better left to those who have a more vested interest in historical accuracy, so I'll settle on the position that merciful loving kindness is something we all have a capacity for as sentient beings.

Creating music has become my last positive refuge from a life as a lonely societal loser. I've all but entirely lost the ability to 'go out there and put on a brave face!' I'd much rather drink beer in solitude than spend time exchanging sober pleasantries with people I fundamentally disagree with. I'm tired of poking holes in bank-slave philosophies.

My existence isn't entirely devoid of love: thanks to an old friend who set the folks-up with a puppy, I enjoy the company of a very affectionate dog who doesn't seem to mind that I'm a lazy slob who sits at a computer all day long!

Fist Full Of Drachmas For A Chimney Sweep

Mom & Dad bought me for a fistfull of Drachmas from a Greek restauranteur, Zeno, who told them that he'd found me under one of his tables of his cafe on the outskirts of Athens when he was closing-up shop one evening. I don't have much of a recollection from those days, apart from the ever present smell of the fish, and the legions of feral cats that would come skulking around for scraps.

We arrived in Edmonton, Canada in 1981, and it wasn't a month after enrolling in school that my parents put me to work with one of the local chimney sweeps. My boss would pick me up from the school bus stop, and we'd work well into the night every weekday - I was lucky to get leftovers from dinner before heading-off to bed, but Mr. Orlioni would usually save half of his tuna sandwich for me. It was always tuna. 

I remember him saying, "Blake... you shoulda be saving it until-a-break-time or you gonna get too slow on da job, eh?" as I was stuffing my face with the ever-so-welcome mayonaisse and tuna smeared on Wonderbread. 

For three years I worked every day after school - from four 'till seven or eight o'clock at night. The pay was a buck and a quarter an hour, and I was allowed to keep two dollars a day for myself. 

$10 / week allowance was considered better than average among the other kids of my neighbourhood, and I have fond memories from the summer before grade two - smoking cigarettes and comparing comic books with my chums by the river. I had a smokers cough even before taking-up smoking from breathing-in all the chimney soot at work each day!

Green Energy Ideas - The Solar Wafer

For some time now, I've been thinking about an alternative energy configuration. I'm more of a creative type than an engineering sort... more of a dreamer than a doer. I have no idea how practical this design might be, or even if someone else has already made something similar. It's my hope that in the least, it might prompt someone with the resources and know-how to expand upon my idea - if it indeed shows any promise or novelty. Please forgive the crude diagrams I made using MS-Paint:

The idea here is that you'd construct a wafer comprised of a square matrix of water-tight glass cells, sandwiched between a tight array of Fresnel lenses and a solar panel. I imagine the thickness of the water cell layer to be no more than one inch. I'm thinking if such a configuration were to be 2' X 2' in surface area, each individual wafer panel would probably weigh over 100 lbs. Installing several on a rooftop shouldn't present significant weight strain considerations. No more so than would a couple of feet of wet snow accumulating on the roof... and if you live in a region where snow needs to be routinely shoveled away from your rooftop, such a system would obviously be unsuitable throughout most of the year anyway!    

I apologize for the calamity of the schematic above. It's just intended to be a rough overview. 

Water would be circulated through the glass cells underneath the Fresnel lens to become super heated. Maybe the hot water tank is situated right behind the east-facing roof where the solar wafer grid collects sun? In this way, the water temperature would be elevated to a nominal rate as the sun rises, merely by strategically locating it in the warmest part of the home. 

Presuming the Fresnel lens concentrates enough sun rays to heat the water in the cells beneath to the boiling point, the resulting steam might then be condensed enough to supply the demands of a steam-powered electrical generator? In the least, this system should bring the temperature of the water high enough that it would take a minimal amount of conventional energy (natural gas, heating oil) to finish the job...  whenever the sun is shining, that is. Of course, when the sun is shining down, you don't need as much heat anyway. That's where the idea of possibly (and probably noisily) converting the steam to electricity comes into play. If you already have a boiler supplied radiant heating system in your home, such a set-up might reduce your gas bill, but I doubt it would pay for itself in ten years time. 

For what it's worth, there you have it. An idea for a very basic system to passively generate both electrical power and heat water from the same surface footprint.  

   

Don't Question Canadians Online Watching Question Period... Period!

Here are my final thought - the ones I didn't have a chance to share before my rather abrupt disbarment from this little Facebook enclave:

After merely providing a link to a McLean's article (one I didn't even read myself) it appears I'm no longer welcome on their Facebook page: Canadians Onlne Watching Question Period. They should really change the name to one of the following: Group-Thinker Tinkers Pretending To Watch Question Period; Kim Leaman's Echo Chamber; Math is Hard - The Science is Settled; We Think We Know Better Than Charles Darwin

Anyway, at least now there's no doubt in my mind that Kim Leaman doesn't want for his  platoon to be reading anything that he himself doesn't point to or first approve of. After all, science is not some silly lexicon of knowledge to be continually built upon through careful observation of a universe in flux, but whatever the handsomely financed lab-coat brigade currently says it is. The world is flat! No further discussion necessary!

Ah well. To be a credential-less lone voice in the wilderness of the new world. I can't help but feel a sense of vindication in being denied the right to further participate in a close-minded back-scratching forum.  

I understand the frustration of having your only basket of eggs stolen. You bank all your hopes and dreams on a single theory with the potential to create a paradigm shift in society. In doing so, you scapegoat anyone who might question its validity, and base your whole raison d'etre around this theory - attracting psycophants in the process. 

Capitalists then do what they do best - they begin to capitalize on the potency of the movement as an opportunity to raise leverage against their fellow capitalist competitors. They will fan the flames of dissent using polarizing divide and conquor strategies: poor people are easily manipulated into embracing socialist ideals fostered by capitalists: "If you're poor," says the oil cartel funded think-tank, "it's because those wealthy oilmen are getting rich by raping your planet." 

Duh... gee! I guess they must be right! I knew it must've been something other than my poor grades in school and my inability to put down the PS3 controller!

The oil cartel funded think-tanks aren't staffed by disenfranchised drop-outs, but by academics and trust-fundees. These rich kids know they can rally support for 'the cause' from the ranks of the "it's all good" crowd. The kids who weren't present in class when the introduction to the computation of partial differentials was being taught.  

Then along comes a modern-day Einstien (maybe a journalist with a good mind for numbers, or an amateur scientist who's main gig is working in a tire shop) without any affiliations -someone who doesn't care what either side thinks. Someone who just has an enduring passion for the truth, and can plainly see that the data of the week doesn't quite add-up right. 

Like the ancient Greeks who ascertained atomic theory using philosophy (see brain) - over a millennium before the advent of electron microscopes, our modern day Einstein, most inadvertently and nonchalantly pokes a few holes in the thin fabric of the latest 'settled' argument. Not because he's vindictive or hates the whales, but because the math is obviously contrived and false.

Whoops! That can't be right, Einstein! We have 4000 lab-coats with paper credentials who would beg to differ (because we pay their mortgages) with your "tire man" truth! We can't afford to have something as unprofitable as honest scientific reasoning throwing a wrench into our plans to build a profit extraction machine!

So there you have it folks. The essence of climate scaremongering science. A pawn on the chessboard only moves in one direction! 

        

House of Uncommons

The Sun News Network is the best thing to happen to Canadian television since Kids in the Hall. I rarely miss their weekday prime time lineup of shows starting with The Source at six o'clock, followed by Byline at seven. Ezra Levant's team at The Source has knack for coining appropriate colloquialisms to describe lefty activist tactics: "rent-a-mob" comes to mind.

I remember checking-out the "occupy" set-up in Edmonton with a friend. It was spooky. There was a tent set-up full of voodoo Marxist literature, a couple of hipsters in charge of keeping the diesel generator running for the laptops, and bearded faces speaking to one another in hushed tones. It was one of the most unhappening "happenings" I'd ever experienced - a field trip into the downtown for mom's basement dwelling suburbanite slackers. 

Of course, I'm a mom's basement dweller, and I'm not ashamed of it. If I weren't a total loser with no friends, I wouldn't be spending this long weekend mucking around on the computer, right? 

Last night after roto-tilling the vegetable plot in the backyard, I hit The Facebook with a six-pack of Big Rock's Honey Brown ale. If my excitement over the instant feedback I was getting to my comments isn't an indication of how uneventful my own life has become, maybe my chronic daily dose of online Scrabble is. Once upon a time I would've spent May Long camping-out on the shores of Cold Lake with a dozen friends, taking requests on the guitar.

This is the Facebook page I was "trolling":

Canadians Online For Question Period

Being a genuine ideological supporter of the strong, stable, majority ruling Conservative Party of Canada, my views were an instant hit! Even though I managed to embarrass myself somewhat, the discourse remained cordial enough, and I thoroughly respect the proactive provision of a thoughtful public forum pandering to all those who oppose Steven Harper's most rational and reasonable agenda. It's a sign that the spirit of democracy is alive and well, and that there are people actually paying attention to the proceedings in the House of Commons. 

By this point, I think I was becoming a bit drunk and indignant. There was no Honey Brown Ale left, and I was intent on taking the dog for a walk to get more beer. After a hard-day's work and little more than a light breakfast, it's safe to say I was "buzzing pretty good" anyway. I do remember consciously restraining myself from becoming too emotional, but looking at my submissions this murky morning, it's clear to me now that I was becoming semi-delusional!  

"Dude is a waste of time a joke if you will"

Maybe so, but at least I'm not afraid to use my own image next to my name, and I take the time to correctly punctuate my sentences. In all fairness, "Kell" is likely using a handheld mobile computing device, and that makes even capitalizing the first letter of a hurtful comment tedious enough!  

From here on in, things are just getting absurd... I tend to get a scrappy attitude when I drink too much. I admit it's a character flaw, and I use alcohol to inflate my own self-esteem. 

It was indeed refreshing to get some feedback flow at all; I sometimes wonder if I'm typing into some Facebook abyss when rebuttals to my observations don't surface. All-in-all it was a rather fruitless exercise - I blame myself for not being more subjective, but I look forward to more productive political dialog from this page in the future.

Crowded House

So there's my old man, sitting across the kitchen table from me, listening to the local country music station. A song comes on... I immediately recognize it as being a starkly inferior cover of  a Crowded House song from the late eighties: You'd Better Be Home Soon. I make a point of pointing-out my observation to Dad.

"Huh?"

Fuck me. Fuck my life.

Sheer Disgust

I'm the f#ck face who penned the measure of musical notes you see above. 

I was rather displeased with the disparaging nature of my last post so I filed it in the server as a draft. It upsets me terribly when old men suggest we should "nuke the whole middle east" in a Facebook thread.

In fact, when coupled with misspelled words, seeing such things consumes me with nothing less than

Decided to connect an unused Epson inkjet printer (the cheap sort of printer that'll bilk you on toner if you print more than five pages per week) for its flatbed scanner. Here's a scan of a nicely preserved crayon impression I put together back in 1979:

 Pure chaos! Not too shabby for a 2 1/2 year old. Looks like a police car following a ladder truck to the scene of a townhouse on fire.

Probably set ablaze by a jealous husband after bludgeoning his cheating girlfriend and her lover to death with a piano bench?

Let's hope he's rescued before dying from smoke inhalation!

I don't know how I got to being such a wretched and miserable parasite with no income and little ambition. Given my well-adjusted childhood and doting parents... one might reason that such a nurturing foundation would serve to propel me to great heights - instead of the abysmal depths of depravity I find myself in as a grown man.

It might have had something to do with starting to drink at such a tender young age. That's me to the left of my bosom drinking pal Mario on the island of Crete - a screwdriver in front of me. It just seemed perfectly normal for my three-year-old self to slug-back a highball after a Mediterranean buffet.

It was the late seventies after all. Today, I'd consider pinching a helpless cripple 'till they beg me for mercy just for that drink right now!

If I ever get a job again, my first major purchase will probably be a case of whiskey. I'll hide the bottles around my room. Every afternoon, after taking the dog for a brisk walk, I'll start getting smashed while surfing through Internet images of middle-aged female bodybuilders in bikinis. Once that gets boring, I'll start making telephone call to people who I know don't want to talk to me. Maybe do a bit of writing before passing-out with FOX news on the TV set.

That's honestly my idea of a thrilling time - the height of low-budget fulfillment for my most addled mind!  

Late Night Television Top 5

For Mom on Mother's Day: A hand made card scrawled-out in about four minutes. While I didn't spend much time on it this year, isn't it the personalized acknowledgement that counts? It was a painful-looking attempt at making a crossword puzzle. I stopped after just one clue in either direction, and then wrote something with mushy sincerity.

It's doubtful I'll ever be able to afford to buy her anything nice - this October will mark the one year anniversary of my latest period of unemployment - coincidentally also the one year anniversary of my watching Red Eye on FOX with some regularity. I plan to mark the occasion by doing what I always do - smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee as I write about how wonderful it is to not be harnessed to the yoke of modern-day slavery.

Were I asked to rank late night television, my hierarchy would appear something as follows:

1) Red Eye
2) Conan
3) Late Night
4) Real Time
5) Colbert Report

Keeping in mind that the production team is the mostly unseen half responsible for the entertainment value and relevance of these shows, I'll attempt to provide a bit of background explanation behind my top 5.

1) I've been watching Red Eye long enough now to notice the musical chairs format of FOX's most casual and humourous current affairs program. The other night was the first time I'd seen Andrew Levy as acting anchor, and I was nothing less than delighted by his competency in command of both the narrative and panel proceedings. It was interesting to see him so animated after becoming accustomed to his usual low-key reservedness as a regular panelist on the show. Then again, he's a guy who spends almost every night sitting adjacent to Mr. Gutfeld, studying his countenance, so I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise.

2) I would commend Conan O'Brian for being the one late night host who's managed to out-goof David Letterman's signature restrained goofiness without sliding off the edge of absurdity and into Tom Green territory. Conan has mastered the spastic nature of the inner jerk - giving his audience just enough of a glimpse of it to be funny without compromising his own integrity. A genuinely funny guy, but I admit I haven't watched in quite some time.

3) Sheer intimidation of celebrities. It's so much fun to watch big egos get twisted around like silly putty by the great David Letterman. He's demonstrated the power of stubborn conviction tempered by a lighthearted unpredictability. I'm scared to even write about him!

4) Bill Maher has a tendency to talk over his esteemed guests a bit much for my liking, but his observations are usually accurate and clever enough to make me chuckle. Sometimes I get the impression his edginess is almost forced?

5) Stephen Colbert? See number 4.


Oh yeah, I also tidied-up my room today. Here's some images to prove it!

Unfair Elections Act?

I just finished reading an article on the CBC website entitled: "Fair Elections Act: 7 things you may not know," written by Laura Payton.

In all fairness, I haven't read the act myself - that's a job for the official opposition - and the opposing views to the act are extraordinarily weak in my opinion.

Most of the argument seems centered around voter identification. All I have to say is that if you can't even manage to go and get yourself so much as a pedestrian "driver's" licence in this land, then your conviction to cast a ballot can't be all that strong to begin with. Proof of identity at the ballot box seems the most obvious and cost effective way for Elections Canada to minimize voter fraud.

As for the issue with muzzling the Chief Electoral Officer - imposing topical limits on what he or she is free to say... who cares! It shouldn't be their job to foster interest in democratic participation anyway. Especially when they're in a position to feasibly insert partisan subversive encouragement or discouragement into their public service messages using tax dollars.

The next federal election will play a pivotal (vote NDP) role in determining the course Canada's future (anyone but conservative) which means that YOUR vote (NDP) counts!

Remember Mr. Subliminal on Saturday Night Live?

Personally, I think anyone who would consider voting for a party other than the Conservative Party of Canada in the next election should reconsider! It's not because I'm especially comfortable, entirely agree with or even fully understand the CPC's track record: their seeming coziness with petrochemical titans, the ultra-pro Israel stance, their meddling in the labour markets. It's more to do with the ramshackle nature of the challenging parties.

I prefer an ultra-pro Israel stance to an anti-Israel stance. I prefer cordial relations with domestic petrochemical enterprise over close ties with competing foreign petrochemical interests. Tinkering with job markets seems better than outright taxing and spending. Pro-life is better than pro-abortion, and democracy, well, who wouldn't agree that despite the inherent inefficiencies, they are far superior to "simple dictatorships". Reasonable incentives for big business... rather than punitive, job destroying, draconian regulations on business. Game of Thrones to The Walking Dead. The Beatles over The Rolling Stones.

The most predominant reason I've encountered from those favouring the Liberal Party is, "down with Harper"... just because. The second most predominant reason has to do with the legalization of marijuana. There seems to be little substance beyond that other than a general underlying frustration among a very special breed of weirdos that view Mr. Harper's Conservative Party, and the voters they represent, as the one unified force preventing Canada from plummeting into a state of lawless anarchy.

At the end of the fiscal year, I see the CPC as the most realistic and pragmatic choice by far. I don't consider myself an authority on the subject, and there's probably much I'm unaware of. If you're reading this and shaking your head because you think I'm missing crucial points or missing the point entirely, please don't hesitate to let me know. I welcome more informed people to alert me to my own naivety or ignorance!

Exasperation!

Painted myself into a corner with a shit-brush, I did. I'm going to call it an epiphany. I just "unfriended" my 67 friends on Facebook. I feel like I'm doing them as much of a favour as I am myself. Facebook was becoming somewhat of a lifeline... a dependency. I was making ugly and outrageous posts, and I can only pray that my parents and my family will forgive my disgraceful impulsiveness.  

I can't handle The Facebook anymore. I need to focus more on songwriting, and less on trolling through comments and "share this if you care" type stuff. My news feed was becoming such an obscene menagerie of gratuitous violence and random smut blended with fluffy animals, pictures of family, and upsetting current affairs. I couldn't take it anymore. Being opinionated, I was absorbed by current affairs commentary on network pages, but what's the point when your two-bits just blends into the background with the other 2600 comments?

Lately I've been feeling exasperated by everything I hear in the news, and I know I'm not the only one. I feel a sense of powerlessness and utter bewilderment... a longing for any semblance of certainty about the future. Of course the future is always uncertain, but there was actually a time in my life when I felt I could at least count on our public institutions to a degree. Now I just don't know what's what.

Maybe I need to get out more. The world frightens me though. There seems to be an increasing frequency of ordinary people snapping without warning. One minute you're enjoying a little music with friends at an end of school bash, and the next minute it's a blood bath, five of your friends are taken away on stretchers, dead.

Just off the top of my head:

250 innocent school girls kidnapped in Nigeria.
Russia using microwave weapons on the Ukraine.
EPA employee getting paid to watch porn while on the job.
A billion dollars wasted in Ontario.
Massive cover-up by senior officials over Benghazi.
Daily slaughter in Egypt and Syria.

Working on music, I can't help but feel like Nero playing the fiddle while Rome burns!

Where's the civility!

I guess the important thing is to remember that just because everything around me seems to be going to shit, I needn't go with it.

Good day / good night, esteemed reader, and God Bless! May you enjoy peaceful times with your loved ones, and may the future bring you serenity and prosperity.

Be A Goat: Don't Vote!

A Maverick Life: a biography about former Alberta Premier Ralph Klein. Prior to reading it in 2001, I hadn't taken much of an interest in provincial politics.

I did indeed have the opportunity of briefly meeting with Prime Minister Brian Mulroney as a member of a small student delegation in 1986. I haven't since been within spitting distance of any senior level politician. He seemed a bit distracted, but was otherwise accommodating to our tiny and inquisitive group of top students who were selected to visit Parliament Hill that day.

Smoke and mirrors. Nepotism and favoritism. A world of insiders, bewildering to outsiders. This is Canadian politics. Folks putting their law degrees and debating smarts to use. Empty promises and talking points. Scandal and corruption. Media propaganda. Dividing and conquering. I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine. Transparency and secrecy. Clubs and committees. Slush funds and trust funds. Private deals and public outrage. This is Canadian governance... and it's mostly all negative!

It seems like a great job if you can get it. Getting paid an attractive salary just to pretend you really give a shit about anything other than making it to the finish line: maximum pensionable earnings - just over yonder. Hang in there, Duffy!

From a sweat-equity standpoint, I imagine politics at the provincial level is, on average, and depending on assignment or department, a bit of a walk-in-the-park from a federal perspective. Less tedious. Minor leagues. If times are good, the biggest decision you might be faced with throughout your entire term as premier of a province may not be any more complex than: Gee, isn't it time we replaced that aging fleet of government limos?

People want to believe your lies.

Ordinary workers want to hear that their pursuits are not in vain - that they might get a shot at retiring with dignity before they're 75 years old.

Students want to believe that they can waltz into a corner office somewhere after they graduate.

Seniors want to know that their trusty pill bottles will continue to be affordable.

Small business wants unfettered access to cheap labour and hiring incentives.

Special interest groups want a promise of increased funding, and the chronically unemployed want more subsidies and reassurances that someone's looking out for their immediate interests.

The chattering classes expect accountability, and the middle class wants tax relief and low interest rates so they can have more disposable income to shop at Home Depot with.

Are you up to the task?

"Child's play," shouts Simple Simon, the campaigning challenger to the throne.

"I'm Simple Simon, and Simon says: just check my box and I'll give you all that AND a bag of chips!"

And what do I want?

I want entertainment! To continue my erstwhile path of contributing as little as possible to these hucksters - to sit back and watch the shenanigans unfold. Nothing brightens my day more than to watch the smiles of the average idealistic "hope & change" voters get slowly turned upside-down as each successive campaign promise emphatically made by their star candidate is reneged upon. I love to see the illusions shattered. People looking at you in disbelief as you patiently explain the difference between a democracy, and a constitutional monarchy that preaches democracy for the sake of convenience. Watching the tears roll down the cheek as I carefully explain that Santa Clause is just a silly hoax. Pulling somebody's head out of the sand, and kicking them in the teeth before screaming, "I told you so!"

One minus two equals negative one, you putz! THAT... will never change!

I'm tired of the exercise... exercising my right to vote is just a waste of time. I think I'd rather use that hour it takes to line-up at the ballots to instead orchestrate a run for some unchallenged riding. Get elected, and get a nice pension after a couple of years of  public "service" from the backbench. Resign and retire to my music studio with a monthly stipend - compliments of the toiling workforce... but not before making a few backroom deals with real estate developers to help fund my expensive hobbies!

Be a goat! Don't vote! 

I Love You For Reading Me

Exercising my freedom of expression is what I've been doing on the web log for the last five years. My opinions must be perfectly correct and persuasive enough to not compell any commentary - either that, or I'm just not as controversial as I like to think I am? Hey, I know I'm terrible for dangling-out non-sequitors and sometimes inaccurate, utter nonsense. Surprisingly, my Google stats indicate a small readership in India, China, and Western Europe. Consider this a big warm shout-out to my overseas subscribers!  

Something about Facebook has changed. I subscribe to several news network's Facebook pages: Drudge Report, FOX, The Blaze, Sun News, The Guardian, Collective Evolution... apart from the latter two, decidedly right leaning outfits. I enjoy trolling through the commentary, and spending a bit of time pointing-out stupidity or whackiness when I encounter it. Maybe those with which the perceived stupidity originates are adhering to the wimp's axiom of "not feeding the trolls" or something, but I'm getting the distinct impression that my comments aren't always getting through to their intended targets.

No big deal. You might notice I've added a link to my Facebook page on the right-hand column of this web log. I've been neglecting my nine hundred or so twitter followship in favour of doing the Facebook thing lately, and I tend to scrutinize prospective Facebook friends somewhat more carefully than I do Twitter followers, but drop me a line if you're sincere and you don't mind being subjected to my periodic abrasiveness and infrequent vulgar outbursts. As I've written at some length about on this site, I have a tendency to drink and surf, so be forewarned! 

I wrote a piece called "Nothing Is Obsolete" a while back. Defending my tendency to 'hoard' things has been a recurrent theme on this web log over the years. Looking around my bedroom / den right now, I can admit it's a bit cluttered - I'm evidently a slob - but it's a far cry from the likes of the case studies I've seen on that "Hoarders" show or anything. I see a 1960's Olympia typewriter I bought for under a buck in the late nineties that now sells for as much as $600 on eBay. I've taken good care of it, and its many mechanical features still work perfectly. I don't intend to sell it. I plan to use it hammer-out a manuscript before finding a cozy spot for it in the attic of the posh town house I know that I'm going to buy some day if the world doesn't end first!

Pretty sure my Mom would've seen it chucked in the trash had I not repeatedly advised her against doing so. Some people seem incapable of estimating inherent or potential values of things. You wouldn't send a 1964 Corvette Stingray in good condition to the scrapyard because someone tells you, "Hey man, that car is so last year!" 

Just like you wouldn't trade a Stingray straight across for a 2000 Oldsmobile because "Hey buddy, this here luxury sedan is 26 years newer!" 

Unless you're soft in the head or don't care about money, I suppose.

Electronics and computers are mostly nothing like automobiles in terms of appraisal and inherent worth, but I was rather dismayed to learn of my old Amiga 500 going to the "computer recyclers" in town. Not only did it function perfectly well, it was a device that probably had a good quarter of an ounce worth of gold in plating across its circuitry! Hardly worth getting out the torch and messing around for an hour just to salvage all that pesky gold... who would want to spend a whole hour of their day just to make $250?

Beside the point. It was becoming somewhat of a rarity in the used market and could fetch around $1088 from the right interested collector today. That's about $666 more than what was initially paid for it! Hardly a devil's purse of an investment gain once you factor for inflation, but I wouldn't have sold the relic anyway. I wanted it for a conversation piece... another curious addition to my expanding computer hobby network. A compatibility challenge. A hexadecimal cruncher. A geeky toy to mess around with.

It's good to keep in mind that all these material things are after all just things. Hardly worth getting bent out of shape about unless the "things" in question hold some sentimental value or happen to be the hinge pin of your livelihood, I suppose. Like those "Pawn Stars" guys. Musical instruments are uniquely special things in the way that they resonate delightful sound shapes. In the hands of a capable musician they are a thing of beauty to the ear, and often pleasing to the eye... even when they are silent and at rest.

I'm very excited about a new addition to my nerd-works music "studio". The Arturia "Minilab" MIDI keyboard.

Leonard Cohen has aptly demonstrated that you can make a superbly cool, relevant, and sophisticated album using little more than what sounds like a basic rhythm generating keyboard, some female backing vocals, and a deep, gravelly voice. I must have listened to "I'm Your Man" a thousand times over in 1999. 

I'm looking forward to fleshing-out some new tracks, and maybe spicing-up some old ones. I hope the world remains stable enough to accommodate my desire to craft a hit tune at some point in the not-too-distant future!

  

The Perils of Socialism

I can think of no one who has done more to expose the hypocrisy and stupidity that oozes throughout the realm of anti-establishment "activists" than Canada's own Ezra Levant. Almost single handedly, he's managed to elevate investigative journalism in this country to a whole new level of doing whatever it takes to get to the bottom of the scandalous behaviour the left was accustomed to getting away with before his arrival on the scene. Following the money, and knowing where to look.

Of course, he can be a little prickish and irritating, but no more so than the shallow shills of ridiculously ignorant "activists" that mope around public spaces spouting their gormless tripe stew of rhetorical anti-capitalist nonsense. Let me tell you, esteemed reader, if you'd seen Moscow in the late seventies as I did, you'd understand what a sickening manifestation of bleakness that extreme national socialist doctrines invariably leads to. 

Imagine lining-up for hours... not to see a movie debut or to get into a trendy night club, but for the ever so distinguishing opportunity of being lucky enough to get bathroom tissue before the last couple of rolls are fought over by beleaguered looking ladies in babushkas. Gee... thanks centralized planning... now I can't wipe my ass again for another month! 

Dismal. Bleak. Hopelessness and pointlessness. Misery. Toiling away at nothing. Unless you're lucky enough to among those who are responsible for engineering the lives of the workers. They all drive Benzs' and Jaguires to the Kremlin. 

"You drive Lada, comrade. If Lada not good enough for you, you don't drive at all!" 

The hypocrisy is infuriating. Want a glass of milk? Hope you stocked-up on the powdered variety or are willing to smuggle it in from neighbouring Finland. Hey, what's on channel 3? Ha! Channel 3? Aren't two channels more than enough entertainment, comrade? 

Everything was a facade. Empty rooms behind painted storefronts. There could be six of the same doodad hanging in plain sight behind the counter, and you ask, "May I please examine one of those doodads hanging on the wall, Comrade Storeclerk?"

"We haven't any doodads left. Sorry to disappoint you, comrade." would've been the most likely response. 

The daily experience for the average person living in the former Soviet Union was full of manufactured absurdity and utter irrationality. How anyone fails to appreciate the perilous market conditions resulting from unrestrained centralized planning is perfectly understandable if one hasn't had the misfortune of seeing it with their own eyes... living under the oppressive thumb of it for even a week would be enough to make the staunchest Marxist throw their hands up in utter bewilderment at the unnecessary retardedness of it all. 

Of course, communism makes perfect sense in theory - but that's where its appeal ends... in theory. Even the best theories cannot account for every possible tangent resulting from its implementation in a practical environment. 

I know that Ezra Levant is someone who understands the ugliness behind socialism in practice perfectly well. When I first saw the You Tube footage of his mock trial before the (Alberta?) Human Rights Commission, I was highly intrigued by him. I couldn't help but root for him and pump my fist in vindicated solidarity as he rightly dismantled their whole charade of impartiality. 

"Who is this articulate and enigmatic champion of liberty?" I asked myself. Check him out for your self! His televised program, The Source, appears on the Sun News Network Monday through Friday, and I would encourage anyone to tune-in regularly as Ezra ventures deeper down the rabbit hole with each entertaining installment. At the risk of sounding a little too star-struck, I don't think I could admire a current affairs TV show personality with any more enthusiasm than I do Ezra. In my opinion, he is one of the most important Canadians of our day.

   

    

Is Quitting Smoking Your Number One Priority?

I've been watching plenty of TV since moving back-in with my folks. Cable / sattelite TV is something that would be very low on my list of things to spend money on, but since a cross-section of the cable multiverse is piped-in anyway, why not flip it on while I'm Facebooking, right? As my favorite news networks are droning in the background, I'm exposed to equal parts commercial advertising and actual content.

One advert that causes me to knit my brow, is for a "medicine" to aid in quitting smoking. Given the list of common side effects associated with this drug, it strikes me as more of a serious toxin - one to be avoided at all costs! Given its success rate, you're probably as likely to successfully quit smoking using this drug as you would be if you stirred vaginal cream into your morning coffee... that is if your internal organs aren't turned to pulp first! 

LISTED COMMON SIDE EFFECTS OF SMOKING CESSATION PILLS

constipation

diarrhea

difficulty concentrating

dizziness

flatulence 

headache

heartburn

nausea

sleep disturbance 

unusual tiredness or weakness

vomiting

The actor in the ad, a fellow who looks to be around 60 years old, claims to be a former policeman who's "helped a lot of people" over his career, but during that time, wane to admit that he himself was in dire need of help...  

So let me get this right. If you're a smoker aged sixty, you probably took up the habit in your late teens - and like many smokers, sporadically quit for short periods of time throughout your history of smoking. 

Let's say you averaged about 15 cigarettes per day throughout your 45 years of being a smoking smoker. That's almost 250,000 extinguished stubs of willingly smoked cigarettes! All that terrible smoking, yet here you stand, alive, and well enough to walk around telling me about how you made a decision to begin a trial with a drug, who's disclaimer stops just shy of claiming it could potentially kill you in just a few dozen doses? Baah. 

I think most heavy smokers and leading experts on the subject would easily agree that becoming addicted to tobacco is a very unwise, expensive, and unhealthy thing to do - but once  measured against these space-age cessation drugs, a cigarette almost starts to look like a rather safe, mostly organic medicine for stress relief - a relatively harmless relaxation aid if you will.

One great thing about using tobacco, is that it takes longer to smoke a cigarette than to swallow a pill. Sure it's a weakness, but cravings can serve as a perfectly honest  excuse to completely remove oneself from irritating situations for five or ten minutes. A thinking person's time-out... the ultimate stress relief! 

Would it bother you much to be in the company of someone happily puffing on a cigar with just a nagging cough? Or would you prefer sitting across from an irritable codger, disoriented and confused, half-shitting themselves, and ready to puke on you at any moment as they struggle to describe the sequence of events from their latest in a series of terrifying nightmares?   

In other words, the more immediate side effects of smoking tobacco include: dry cough, cravings.

Smoking tobacco is NOT known to lead to:

changes in behaviour, changes in mood, hallucinations, 

thinking about harming self or others 

poor concentration, 

changes in weight (arguable), 

changes in sleep, 

decreased interest in activities

thoughts of suicide

Yikes! Got a light? I think I'd rather take my chances with possibly developing lung cancer, emphysema, and heart disease thirty years down the road!