Dreaming Of UPS

Last week I shared some of my thoughts about the upcoming provincial election. Since I live with my folks, whatever's good for them, by extension, is good for me. I'll just vote for whoever I deem to be the most senior-friendly party. Mr. Swann, leader of the Alberta Liberal Party, appears to be around the same age as my folks.

Cleaning up my bedroom this afternoon, I was surprised to find a mostly smoked joint lodged in the underside of a beer bottle cap, and was momentarily conflicted - my mind rapidly positing questions: what have you got to lose, you've been pot free for months, and what noticeable advantages have manifested as a result of not smoking the stuff?

Before I could talk myself into getting high, I tossed the little bugger into the fireplace and got on with some music, eventually revamping this little tune:




My abundance of free time is truly a blessing. I am extremely grateful that I lead such a peaceful life after a once-over of the Drudge Report. It's war going on out there.

Last night, I had a horrifying nightmare. I was employed full-time as a UPS parcel delivery guy here in my hometown. A fate more cruel I can hardly imagine, as I know first hand what the job entails.

Having endured a stint driving a UPS package car in Calgary over a decade ago, I've resolved to never take employment as a courier dude again. It was boring at the best of times, and nerve wracking at the worst. Interestingly, in the dream I was issued a three wheeled delivery unit and, just now, while surfing for a good image of a UPS truck, I find this:

I had no idea they actually existed! Psufferin' Psuccotash! Maybe I'm psychic?

Anyway, in the dream, I was hours late to a scheduled drop off, and the whole shit show of an alternate reality was mired by overtones of futility and hopelessness.

Right before awakening from this ghoulish hellscape of a circumstance, and much relieved to find myself still fruitfully unemployed, my somnambulant self was aimlessly wandering around a snow covered parking lot with a parcel under my arm, unable to remember even where I'd parked the brown trike.

Finding things to keep myself busy with throughout the day has never been a struggle. I've recently begun working on a new slideshow accompanied talk-radio style program. I try to keep the components fairly basic because it's a considerable amount of legwork involved for just one person: write the script, play all the parts, sync-up the images, working the promotional angles...






 






  

Regular Knucklehead Talks Alberta's 2015 Election

If you check this blog out from time to time, you've probably noticed there's not a lot of rhyme nor reason to it. Sometimes I write facetious fiction, sometimes I promote my Soundclown channel or post an impromptu poem I've written. Tonight I'll write from the heart, and share my lack of opinions regarding the next provincial election and the candidates running for the coveted $230K salary and scandalous spending potential.

I really have no idea who to vote for in the next provincial election. Rachel, Jim, Greg, Brian, David, or what's her name? They're all more or less the same lawyer at the end of the day. Cautious. Groomed. PoliSci degree wielding public figures. Career politicians I seem to have very little in common with apart from being a heterosexual Christian.

All the runners do seem decent and capable enough in my estimation. I know that's simplistic and intellectually lazy, and I suppose having bulletproof optics has always pretty much been a prerequisite for senior governmental roles in Canada... it's just that news travels so fast these days. One little skeleton in the closet and it's "gonna start spending more time with the family" time?

That's the stuff that interests me far more than the person running. The grit. Who's managing the campaign? Who's behind the strategy? Some of the impulsive statements I've made online would quickly sink a fellow like me before I even got out of the gate... presuming I ever got it in my head to run for some elected post. My resume looks something like this:

Graduated From High School...


At least I have no delusions about the unlikelihood of standing a hope in hell in that arena. Regardless, I think it'd be a far more fascinating experience just to be a presence in a major candidate's war room some day. A speech writer or a dirt digger or something. Being the person at the helm seems like an exercise in self-flagellation. The constant scrutiny must be brutal at best. I'd probably hit the bottle pretty hard after the first bad press release.

As for the figures vying to represent the constituency in which I reside, I can't even be bothered to dig into their backgrounds much. The PC candidate also happens to bethe mayor of the 'city' I live in. His strongest opponent, running under the Wildrose Party banner, runs a local accounting practice. I like numbers people. They tend to view things realistically at least, but if they're dishonest, they also have the smarts to cook books.

I'm beginning to believe that Canada and all her Crowns (provinces) are now effectively under the control of a corporate oligarchy anyway. I view the democratic process as little more than a ballet staged to maintain the illusion of choice. Whoever does win will only have to answer to the ever present shadow government - the financiers, conglomerates, emirates, and entities looming behind a facade of tradition and importance. And then be the target of the people's ire for being stonewalled. 

Pomp and ceremony.

Alberta is running deficits, and the public service isn't happy with their lot. Are they ever? I don't care about teachers salaries, nurses' workloads, or file clerks' perks. I know food prices will go up along with student-teacher ratios, and pitchforks will come out when municipalities realize that they're powerless to contravene the new rules outlined by the masters of the global playing field. 

One prediction I've made is that the PCs are going to wheel-in electronic voting machines for the vote if they think there's even a slim chance they won't see a thirteenth consecutive majority. 

Vote? Why bother, brother! 

I'll leave you with this.

Act On Climate and Stuff

Gobal warning affects us all, and we all wanna do stuff, you know? Sometimes, I take afternoon naps and have these dreams in which I find myself in a classroom setting, and everyone is studying  CO2 emulsions. The professor is wearing a jean shirt and tells us not to trust the evil Harpar government because Canada is really just a metaphor for wastefulness and everything.

My job at Chapters gets me down because it doesn't pay much and I have to work weekends. This is why I ordered a Guy Fawkes mask to wear to rallies and pretense marches. I started looking on the internet (I only do internet at work because I can't figure out my neighbours' WiFi passwords) for ideas to make signs. I'm getting another tattoo next week - something to express my solidarity with the climate movement. It's not much, but at least it will have significance to me. Like when I decided to start stretching my earlobes after participating in the occupy wall street protests. It's like a secret badge of belonging.

Acting on climate is fun! I always did good on arts and crafts in school (not so good on math tests LOL) so I feel I can do my part to help the planet using Sharpie markers and Bristol board. Here is my idea for a sign (I'm not that good at doing graphics on computer - there's not supposed to be that white space) to take to the next rally.

I met my current life partner at the last Climate Action march in Bytown. She's taking creative writing studies at Carlton University and I'm so proud of her! She likes my dreadlocks and tattoos, but wants me to get a car. I don't understand because I thought she was against contributing to greenhouse gases. Shouldn't public transit and bicycles good enough for everyone? Also, I caught her eating a hamburger one day. I'm not so sure she's the one anymore. I might start keeping my eyes peeled for my next more suitable life partner when I go for free vegan lunch at the Buddhist temple. 

Man, I love renting at a place where heat and water is included in the rent. I find wearing too much clothing is restrictive to my creative process, so after work every day, I strip down and crank the heat after taking a good twenty minute hot shower. It's free right? May as well take advantage. I guess I'm kind of conflicted because people like me are supposed to reduce consumption, but maybe my conspicuous energy use will cut into my landlord's profits, and hurting the rich is more important than saving a bit of hot water. 

Some jerk told me I look like I'm ready to fall through my own asshole (I'm kind of on the skinny side) while I was heading into the municipal services building to reapply for my housing subsidy. I hate microaggresions like that! 

Laters!

Quantity Before Quality

I just upload music without giving much thought to people's impressions. My hope is that someone out there gets something out of it - musician's music if you will. Have a listen!

Gobal Warning Inaccuracies

It should come as no surpruse that a whopping eighty-seven percent of the gobal citizenry is convinced of gobal warning. An estimarted sixteen perchance of those who would conscribble themselves to be activitied in the green calamity have indicarted that they are more than peppered to take a once-and-for-all stance in their very own communihives.

"Heaven for fend we risk rinsing temperatures for the sake of extorting carbonimide," warbles second year enviromental scurvies student Humphrey Manguard, when asked if he feels if popular terms surrounding primate change are altogether inaccurate.

"Every day you see people get into their cats or jets and post image files or go places," he further laments.

Expats also warn that rinsing gobal temperatures account for nearly a half of ninety perchance of factual doomsday predictions. Moreover, scientifimists are now beginning to focus their addictions on the recalcitration of previous binary modals representing atmospheric buttons.

"Slowly but surely and without prejudice, we are tainting the bigger pitcher," fosters Dr. Plickle, a trailing researcher in the faculty of women's studies at Flimchester University of Universities.

"Granted, we are a song away from indemnifying any condusive evidence, but quite frankly, I'm having a hell of a great time dyking out with the undergrads."
  

Typing On Paper - It Goes Zip When It Moves

There's something to be said for hammering out words on a mechanical typewriter that's more than a half-a-century old. The surface of your coffee rippling with each ka-chunk of the carriage stops, the slapping of the strikers against a paper covered drum, the dinging of the margin bell, and the zipping of the tractor feed as you rip your finished page away. 

I don't take my fictional works all that seriously, but I did have a bit of a chortle over writing this frothy dweeb fodder! 

Shed Some Cash Here

I wanted the image seen above to appear as a header for this blog, but I don't believe the new stylistic template I've chosen allows for such provisions.

Allows for such provisions. Is that even grammatically correct? I think I read it somewhere once. 

If you're feeling philanthropiquesque, and you've always wanted to contribute directly to the arts - namely my art - please feel free to donate whatever you're comfortable with. This is the time of year I like to push for donations and pump my presence on the web. For whatever reason, the super-rich seem to be in a extra-generous mood during the months of April and May.

More articles to come. More music. Enough talk! Fill up my PayPal tank, pal!

Ride Sharing App Eyes Northern Alberta Community

Westlock, AB- Tired of taxis? Calling cabs getting you nowhere? Rural commuters that have been longing for a paid car service are rejoicing over a recent announcement from the CFO of the ride sharing newbie, Paycar last week.

"We've heard the consumer call loud and clear," says the company's chief spokesman, Alan Stike.  

"After looking at the results from a comprehensive analysis of the area, we're confident about expanding our services into several communities in Northern Alberta - including much of the Athabasca region," he related.

Deviant Derivatives & Derivative Deviations

Being a one-man-media-machine is truly a labour of love. It involves a great deal of typing, and typing burns calories. I spend at least eight hours a day reading and writing.

What sort of mathematical equation might be derived to quantify the number of calories burned vs. the number of words typed in a given period of time? It'd have look something like:

Where Delta 'T' is the period of time, 'c' is Words Typed / Minutes, and 'f' is the caloric differential.

I'm just kidding around here - my mathematical computational abilities leave much to be desired, and I really just wanted to show-off the "Math Input Panel" software that came bundled with my Windows 7 Home Premium distribution. One needn't be a math whiz to appreciate the sophistication under the hood of a program that recognizes moused-in chicken scratch and structures it into logical arrangements!

Producing covers of songs isn't something I usually do. It occurred to me that Belinda Carlisle's "Heaven Is A Place On Earth" sounds remarkably not unlike Bon Jovi's "Livin' On A Prayer" at a structural level. I was mulling about the idea of creating a hybrid of the two, but I had a number of emails urgently requiring my response that day. Anyway, you can listen to me sing it here: