ohcanada
Canada Day is tomorrow. I expect everyone, including Americans, to be very, very, very drunk.
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Canada Day is tomorrow. I expect everyone, including Americans, to be very, very, very drunk.
Holy fucking shit.
Holy fucking shit.
Holy fucking shit.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.
Dammit, Dave Currie would be proud, I want to be a Jew now and get away with shit.
You don't invade the Gaza on account of one soldier! Well, maybe you do, in terms of military ethics...
But you don't! You send attack helos filled with commandos! It's not like Israel doesn't have enough of them.
Hamas may soon be recognizing Israel.
Wow. Bloody fucking wow.
I don't even know what to say, I guess it's not surprising given recent indications, but still. Wow.
In other news, I am busy as hell. Articles for the Charlatan, private stuff I can't talk about, and finals are taking my brain and dicing it up into little pieces. So don't expect much blogging.
As I grow older, am I really becoming wiser? My mind seems to have wrapped its mind around such concepts that I found, rightly, to be conventions of 'grown up' thought created and maintained by adult stupidity. Would it be safe to say that this world would be much simpler in my eyes as universally run by aged fools who have embraced as truth the things they have created, rather than being involved and tangled in all those stupid ideas as I am now?
I was writing and altering my mind when suddenly I got addicted to PostSecret, thanks to Dave, and consequently got terribly in the need for Bright Eyes for the first time in ages.
And I can't bear to write this story anymore. Every word of it has beome as painful as it I meant it to be, and I can't do it.
I've loved you my entire life. I just can't bear to tell you.
Ever since you first appeared in my dreams oh so long ago. what is it that love brings to us? We don't love for nothing, we love because we're fully engrossed in that person, in mind, body, and soul, as cliche as that sounds.
But it's true.
I've spent too long trying to find what I lost. It's not the same when there isn't really a connection that shares in both body and mind. Either it's great sex or it's a great 'mind fuck'.
Who is this person of my dreams?
The moment you've all been waiting for, folks. If you haven't heard, Uwe Boll is challenging anyone who's made fun of his movies a lot in 2005 online to a fight in the boxing ring, to be used in the upcoming Postal movie.
140-190 lbs. I know that doesn't sound like much (and I'm under that weight class) but if you're not all fat, then if you think about it, that goes all the way up from welterweight to cruiserweight boxer limits.
You can do it!
So, my imagination isn't exactly there today, so I just chose a double name for the title of this post.
Yes, I'm in Toronto again. Visiting family, watching World Cup in High Definition, and thinking a lot about love, and all those other things that go along with it.
Perhaps I may've been reading a little too much Kundera as of late. =)
The impermanence of things is only striking me now. I mean, it's more than just that I'll never see certain people again, except on those crazy 'whoa, I bumped into someone I know on a beach on the South shores of Australia' things that happen to me sometimes...
But I mean, everything. My sanity, for example. My youth. My genius. Hopefully... my flaws. Hopefully.
Perhaps it's only goodness that is impermanent.
I've been thinking a lot and really considering why I'm such a bad student. It's not much to figure out. I find most classes mundane, complete wastes of my time and my intellect. I might be blowing my own horn here, but come on, I'm a certified fucking GENIUS. I should get money just for being one.
Alas, the world doesn't work out that way, and I'm going to have to tough it out till I get someplace where I feel challenged. Perhaps challenged isn't quite the right word. Until, then, I feel like I am learning something. Getting smarter, as it were.
Sometimes I regret not going to an American school and moving back to Canada. Hell, I love it here, and I would probably spend most of my time in the States plotting to exercise constitutional rights to overthrow tyranny... so perhaps it wouldn't be all that much better.
I have been continuing to consider somewhat discretely (rather necessary, as my father would likely have a heart attack if I followed through) things I probably shouldn't. I watched a CF-188 perform various stunts with a proper prop-based stuntplane today. Nothing quite wrattles your bones like 2 big GE turbofans roaring not all that far above you. Well, except maybe a sonic-boom. Or the sound of a B-52 over your head. But I wouldn't know.
Still though, my eyes feasted upon a childhood passion for things that go zoom in the air, a passion I certainly cannot indulge in body, as my myopia rather hinders things when in a 4G inverted dive with a 'Mig-28'.
Anyone who gets that reference.. well, you're a sad, sad man. I'm looking at you, Rainsberry.
*sighs*
Someone just give me five hundred grand, please. I want to go buy myself a Lotus and drive all day. Two hundred grand works too, if a Mig-21 ever goes on eBay again.
WestFest photos to come sooner or later. It was bloody cold out there yesterday, glad Emm Gryner invited us up on stage. Anyway, I didn't go today, and don't plan on catching tonight's shows really. Would've been nice to see The Acorns, but I really ought to re-read The Prince for my midterm on Thursday.
I really do have thoughts I'd like to share... but lately I've been chatting with friends so often writing here often feels too much like repeating myself for absolutely no reason. So... sorry about the lack of depth in recent posts... go back and read stuff you haven't read already if you're intent on getting a dose of my crap... or go get a good book to read.
A note about the cold:
FREEZING RAIN IN JUNE!? WTF?
Had some intelligent conversation with Hadas. Will share my thoughts eventually.
I enjoy just sitting down and talking about things though.
I saw the M Coupe last night in the Byward.
Running. Engine on. Yum.
I woke up to a Bright Eyes cover of Devil Town today and thought, "That has to be Janet."
Indeed it was, as it was the right time for her Monday morning radio show. =) So I called the request line and said thanks.
So time to tell a story, I suppose. But I've reiterated it so many timees to myself and to others that there doesn't seem to be a point.
Suffice to say, people jumped us, I took the brunt of it to keep my friends safe, and I wish to God I had a bit of backup last night.
Seven punches to the face and not a bruise to show for it. Just a bit of pain and a lot of rage.
If I were alone though, I would've fought to the last even outnumbered 7 to 1. I'm only logical when others' welfares are concerned.
But I wasn't, and I wasn't about to really get anyone else hurt.
One of them was being a lewd shit. I was not happy about that. I shoved the bastard. I got more punches for my trouble, but hell. It worked.
Honestly though, I felt fucking alive. I haven't been punched in the face in years. Years.
I had forgotten how much the adrenaline hits you in a tussle, how fucking godlike you feel even when you're getting whacked across the face.
If I were any less logical at the moment I would've started cracking out laughing like a maniac. I'm pretty certain of that.
Fucking pussies. 7 to 1, of course they could afford to not really fight, just rough me up.
Ridiculous. Give me two able bodies, take out the elements of the story that didn't need to be there, and we'd have ourselves a real tussle. But that's hopeful thinking. Gotta face reality.
Reality was I had to get my face punched in by a bunch of losers.
They certainly wouldn't have done shit if the people around looked hard enough.
I got punched like 7 times in the face by a bunch of thugs today. That is the most awesomest thing this blog has ever seen, so I'll make it extra special.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I GOT PUNCHED IN THE FACE 7 TIMES TODAY.
I feel more alive than I've been since... the last time I got punched in the face. These fools couldn't punch, it ain't bruising... yet. =D But in any case... GLEBE GANGSTAS?
What the fuck is wrong with the world?
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD?
*laughs*
In any case... I am feeling more alive than I've been since... god, the whole thing with school and Steph and everything. I mean before that, not the event itself. I'm convinced I died a little at that point.
And dear god, dear god.
I feel like writing an entire piece filling the full pages of the bible, writing over the texts, about the glories of life and being alive.
More to come tomorrow if I'm more coherent.
Oh, they've got no time for glory in the Infantry.
Oh, they've got no use for praises loudly sung.
But in every soldier's heart in all the Infantry
Shines the name, shines the name of Rodger Young.
(Shines the name, Rodger Young!
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
To the everlasting glory of the Infantry.
Lives the story of Private Rodger Young.)
Caught in ambush lay a company of riflemen
Just grenades against machine guns in the gloom.
Caught in ambush till this one of twenty riflemen
Volunteered, volunteered to meet his doom.
Volunteered, Rodger Young!
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
In the everlasting annals of the Infantry
Glows the last deed of Private Rodger Young.
(It was he who drew the fire of the enemy
That a company of men might live to fight.
And before the deadly fire of the enemy
Stood the man, stood the man we hail tonight.)
On the island of New Georgia in the Solomons
Stands a simple wooden cross alone to tell.
That beneath the silent coral of the Solomons
Sleeps a man, sleeps a man remembered well.
Sleeps a man, Rodger Young!
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
In the everlasting spirit of the Infantry
Breathes the spirit of Private Rodger Young.
No, they've got no time for glory in the Infantry.
No, they've got no use for praises loudly sung.
But in every soldier's heart in all the Infantry
Shines the name, shines the name of Rodger Young.
Shines the name, Rodger Young!
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
To the everlasting glory of the Infantry
Lives the story of Private Rodger Young.
So I haven't posted here in a little bit, mostly because it's bloody hot out and I've been spending most of my time on my balcony enjoying myself, watching the rain fall for those brief moments in the day before it starts sizzling again.
I've been pondering a great many things out on that balcony. Abstract concepts like love and such. What the hell I'm doing with my life, etc.
I don't think I'm going to bother sharing too many of those thoughts. They come and go, you know. Mostly, it's just nice to watch the world go by as I sit there doing pretty much nothing. Tells you a lot about me, doesn't it?
I can't get myself to go out and meet people right about now. Not because I've still got scratches on my ass from the last time I took someone home, but cause, well, I don't know if this is what I want to be doing at all anymore.
I've been saying it a lot the last year, but I don't think I really ever felt it all that much till lately... it just isn't doing it for me anymore. I want to get back into something serious, care for someone, love someone, and stop being so damned alone.
There's only so much non-commital sex you can have before there ought to be something behind it, I suppose.