Monday, February 27, 2006
What goes around comes around
I don't know if this is for real, but it's a pretty nifty story if it is. I got it from my mom in the form of a chain letter.
His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.
"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."
"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.
"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.
"Yes," the farmer replied proudly.
"I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did.
Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.
Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.
What saved his life this time? Penicillin.
The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son's name?
Sir Winston Churchill.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Canadians kick ass
Well I don’t know about the rest of you but I have followed these winter Olympics religiously. How convenient of them to coincide with my reading break. My hopes were high, and I was not disappointed, I mean we seriously rocked standings with 24 medals won. That’s an all time Canadian best, and an overall third place finish. (To put things into perspective, our second best turnout was a mere 17 in Salt Lake City 2000) Interestingly, women won 16 of those medals. That’s two thirds! I wonder if this kind of distribution between the sexes is consistent for most participating countries. One sports commentator mentioned that the Canadian sports authorities try to distribute funding equally between the two. I think that’s awesome. Money well spent. I’m not a big fan of large-scale professional sports, but I think competitions like the Olympics are great for communities, local and international. Having a culture of sport is especially healthy for kids, teaching them life skills like a good work ethic and teamwork, and giving them something to do to keep them out of trouble. Finally I’m always impressed by the perseverance and humility of our athletes. Anyways, props to Cindy Klassen of Winnipeg for her five medals in long track speed skating. (For more headines and info, see here)
Friday, February 24, 2006
A post about posting
Well for the sake of filling space, diachronic space I suppose, I’m going to post something. Please don’t expect coherency, this post is about quantity not quality. This is the kind of post they dish out in cafeterias all across America – the kind of education that breeds a generation of obese morons.
It’s reading break, hence the doldrums I suppose. Ironically I’m sure we all have a lot of free time, since we’re not going to classes and we’re not doing the readings that we all told ourselves we would do so that when we get back to classes after the reading break we wouldn’t be so swamped – it’s called a fucking “reading” break for Christ sakes! In fact some of us even mused about how we might post more than usual, what with all the free time we’d be having. Naturally we haven’t. But why is this you may ask … in fact each of us, yearning to pass some of the abundance of time we’re suffering from, has probably checked this blog on a daily, maybe even hourly basis, in hopes that one of our comrades had posted something stimulating. But the truth is we don’t post on this blog because we can, we post on it because we can’t. We can’t in that we are a way too busy to be wasting our time with petty rants and poser intellectualism. We should probably be doing essays and reading instead, in order that we may one day actually accomplish the things we talk about wanting to accomplish, and respectfully gain our rightful rank atop the upper echelons of the supposed meritocracy. But what fun is there in that? The blog is a procrastination: it’s something to do rather than the things we should be doing – if I was the pomo flake I am, I might even claim it as act of resistance (that’s about as bad as bullshit gets). The moment we have the time and resources to actually post, we find other procrastinations – we actually procrastinate from our procrastination. The only reason I’m even posting at the moment is because the reading break is drawing to an end and I’m beginning to realize that I have readings to do. So please, please judge my bougie ass. And even if you don’t agree with what I’m saying, judge me anyways.
It’s reading break, hence the doldrums I suppose. Ironically I’m sure we all have a lot of free time, since we’re not going to classes and we’re not doing the readings that we all told ourselves we would do so that when we get back to classes after the reading break we wouldn’t be so swamped – it’s called a fucking “reading” break for Christ sakes! In fact some of us even mused about how we might post more than usual, what with all the free time we’d be having. Naturally we haven’t. But why is this you may ask … in fact each of us, yearning to pass some of the abundance of time we’re suffering from, has probably checked this blog on a daily, maybe even hourly basis, in hopes that one of our comrades had posted something stimulating. But the truth is we don’t post on this blog because we can, we post on it because we can’t. We can’t in that we are a way too busy to be wasting our time with petty rants and poser intellectualism. We should probably be doing essays and reading instead, in order that we may one day actually accomplish the things we talk about wanting to accomplish, and respectfully gain our rightful rank atop the upper echelons of the supposed meritocracy. But what fun is there in that? The blog is a procrastination: it’s something to do rather than the things we should be doing – if I was the pomo flake I am, I might even claim it as act of resistance (that’s about as bad as bullshit gets). The moment we have the time and resources to actually post, we find other procrastinations – we actually procrastinate from our procrastination. The only reason I’m even posting at the moment is because the reading break is drawing to an end and I’m beginning to realize that I have readings to do. So please, please judge my bougie ass. And even if you don’t agree with what I’m saying, judge me anyways.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
One war, two war, blue war, bloody war
Dr. Seuss was about more than just fun and games, although he was always about cartoons. During WWII he was a political cartoonist for a New York publication called the PM. Check out this site for some more back history and a catalogue of some of his best wartime work.
One of my favourites is the one below, which history made ironic (Is there a word for when this happens?). The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour occurred on December 7th 1941, the frame is dated December 5th.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Worth checking out
This is an online radio station I listen to. I'm not really much of a music fiend, so it's nice for me to be able to just throw something on that I don’t have to think too much about when I’m study’n, just relax’n or lov’n. Anyways, despite the clichéd name, this site is well worth checking out. They sent me some spam this morning that I thought I’d pass on. And by the way, Happy Valentine’s Day – wasn’t it Ashlee Simpson that said, “Love makes the world go round.” (seriously, Google it. heheheheh)
Hey there,
Just a quick note on this Valentine's Day to thank all of you listeners out there in broadband radio land for your continued love and support of my little station called Radio Indie Pop!
I truly appreciate your interest, your support, your suggestions and everything else you do that helps bring the indie rock world together.
I would like to ask one favor of you.
Can you please think of one person right now who you know who would like my station and please send my link to them http://www.Radio-Indie-Pop.com?
I hope it's not too 'cheesy' to ask but since we do no advertising, your help right now will really make a difference.
We'll keep spreading the love too.
Best wishes,
Rob Sacher
Radio Indie Pop
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Google owns this bitch
Recently I was chatting with the man at the photocopy shop about how much hotmail has been sucking ass of late. This sudden decline in service eerily coincides with the recent launch of gmail, Google’s new “search oriented” email service. Anyways, I’m pretty fucking fed up with handing papers in late because of hotmail so I signed up for it. Google and I have a sordid past, although I find their motto “Don’t be evil” very cute, I’m pretty sure they are. This of course brings up all kinds of moral dilemmas. “But hey,” I say to my self, “are hotmail, and yahoo, and Microsoft not evil?” Such is the reality of the technical age. We’ve all, quite unexpectedly, contracted our souls Satan’s minions. But by God, the service is so conveniant.
Speaking of contracts, if you ever hear about Google biting the heads off babies, have no fear; I’m pretty sure they’re covered. Here’s an excerpt from the contract I just agreed to for my shinny new email service. 2 500 gigabytes of space, and rising, and it only cost me my soul.
Speaking of contracts, if you ever hear about Google biting the heads off babies, have no fear; I’m pretty sure they’re covered. Here’s an excerpt from the contract I just agreed to for my shinny new email service. 2 500 gigabytes of space, and rising, and it only cost me my soul.
Without limiting the foregoing, under no circumstances shall Google or its licensors be held liable for any delay or failure in performance resulting directly or indirectly from acts of nature, forces, or causes beyond its reasonable control, including, without limitation, Internet failures, computer equipment failures, telecommunication equipment failures, other equipment failures, electrical power failures, strikes, labor disputes, riots, insurrections, civil disturbances, shortages of labor or materials, fires, floods, storms, explosions, acts of God, war, governmental actions, orders of domestic or foreign courts or tribunals, non-performance of third parties, or loss of or fluctuations in heat, light, or air conditioning.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Think twice before calling your niece on Valentines Day
A friend of mine wrote this to me the other day. Since Valentine’s Day is coming up, and it’s definitely something I dislike and would rather not speak of, it would probably be best if I share what someone else thinks of it – not that they show any mercy either. Some of you may identify with her account.
I have been reminded recently that Valentine’s Day is around the corner. And with it will come either the same old annoyance, or something unexpected will happen and make me hate it less this year. In any case, indifference is not an option, Why is that you ask? Well see, Chuk, I am a girl and for that ridiculous and gender biased reason, Valentine’s Day gives everyone who knows me a warrant to interrogate me as to my dating status. Don’t ask why that is, I won’t pretend to comprehend; But come Valentine’s Day, every grandparent, great-aunt or relation of any kind will phone me to whish me a happy Valentine’s Day when their real, and more vile, purpose is to find out whether I’m seeing someone and if not, why ever not? Therefore, I wouldn’t have to hate valentines day so much if is didn’t have to associate with anyone at all.
Vagina Monologues
If you’re one of the totally awesome few that read this blog, live in Montreal and are completely comfortable with your sexuality, or completely unfcomfortable with your sexuality, check out the Vagina Monologues, hosted by QPIRG McGill. I had the opportunity to catch them last night, and quite frankly they were fuking awesome. The monologues themselves are a fantastic piece of writing and the cast was phenomenal. The show deserved every bit of the standing ovation it got. So if your interested, and you should be (Roddie this might even make you more of a man.), it shows at 8 pm today and tomorrow (Friday, Saturday) in the Leacock building on McGill Campus. Tickets are 10$, and you can buy them ahead of time at the Frigo Vert. If that’s not enough info for you, just take a stroll around any of the major university campuses, you can probably find a poster with more details. If you don’t believe any of this, ask Bridget, I’m sure she’ll vouch for me: this show was great. (Not that I actually said hi to her, but I’m pretty sure I saw her there, and she’s someone else that some of you know)
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Dogs are loyal. David Emerson is not
Yesterday Stephen Harper named his new cabinet, and much to Paul Martin’s chagrin it included one of his own long time partners in crime, David Emerson.
Martin is trying to cope with the shock of the unexpected break-up. Today he retreated to his family farm to till potatoes and spend time with his dogs. He posed for reporters earlier today, when asked to comment he only had this to say, “...at least dogs are loyal."
Whatever happened to good old-fashioned party values? Is loyalty a thing of the past? Yet another attention seeking harlot has crossed the floor in search of shinny prizes. Former Ontario cabinet minister, Bob Runciman commented, “An attractive one, but still a dipstick, with what he's done here today." Tony Abbott of Alberta raised the bar further saying, and I quote, that Emerson had "whored himself out for power." His compatriot, MP Maurice Vellacott, had this to say, "Some people prostitute themselves for different costs or different prices." Such is the state of politics in Canada today; gigolos now call the shots.
PS Paul Martin has a fat head.
Martin is trying to cope with the shock of the unexpected break-up. Today he retreated to his family farm to till potatoes and spend time with his dogs. He posed for reporters earlier today, when asked to comment he only had this to say, “...at least dogs are loyal."
Whatever happened to good old-fashioned party values? Is loyalty a thing of the past? Yet another attention seeking harlot has crossed the floor in search of shinny prizes. Former Ontario cabinet minister, Bob Runciman commented, “An attractive one, but still a dipstick, with what he's done here today." Tony Abbott of Alberta raised the bar further saying, and I quote, that Emerson had "whored himself out for power." His compatriot, MP Maurice Vellacott, had this to say, "Some people prostitute themselves for different costs or different prices." Such is the state of politics in Canada today; gigolos now call the shots.
PS Paul Martin has a fat head.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
"America's Battered Wife Syndrome"
Wampum is holding its annual Koufax Awards for lefty blog honours. I’ve been skimming through the nominations for best post, and I stumbled across a little ditty that I thought I'd share with y'all. Without further ado, I give to you 12th Harmonic’s “America's Battered Wife Syndrome” by Advena. Here’s a taste:
If I had described your relationship with George to you back when you were still with Bill you never would have believed me. He degrades you in little increments, every day he erodes your assets as well as your dignity, your reputation, your legacy and your life America.If you’re not eating supper anytime soon, I also recommend checking out Daily Kos’ “Melting the Skin Off of Children” by Hunter. I actually read this one back when it was originally posted, so I was delighted to find it nominated. It earned Daily Kos a spot in my ‘favourites folder’.
Friday, February 03, 2006
The American Dialectic Society
The American Dialectic Society announced its word of the year last month: "truthiness," made famous by the great Stephen Colbert. As well as choosing a grand prize, they hand out awards in a variety of other categories. (This year they have an award for being the best tom-cruise-related word.) If you go here you can see the whole list in PDF format. Highlights include ‘podcast’, and ‘crotchfruit’; neither of which are in my spellchecker... yet. If you scroll down a little further, past the general info and protocols and such and suches, you’ll find a list of previous winners covering the past sixteen years. Interestingly, they started handing awards out at just about the same time I was expanding my vocabulary beyond my Dick and Jane reader.
In 1990, ‘PC’, or ‘politically correct’ was most outrageous. Apparently ‘bungee jumping’ was new to the scene, and ‘notebook PC’ was granted, quite rightfully, the honour of most likely to succeed. I wonder whatever happened to ‘bushlips’—defined as “incinsere political rhetoric.” Seems like it’s about time that one came back into style. I can still remember my mom, curiously commenting on a ‘rollerblade’ phenomenon circa 1992; about that time, ‘gender feminism’ was quite unnecessary. I beg to differ. ‘Soccer mom’ broke onto the scene in 1996 at the height of the minivan era. I wonder what happened to 1994’s most promising word, ‘Infobahn’. The ‘World Wide Web’ (grand prize 1995) and its synonyms get honours under a variety of categories throughout the nineties. When’s the last time you heard someone talk about the ‘information superhighway’ (grand prize 1993)? ‘Web’ actually takes the cake for the decade. I hope they got it right when they declared “Blog” the most likely succeeds in 2002; they must have been slightly off their game in 2000 when they bestowed the same honour to ‘muggle’. I didn’t realize there were enough wizards around to make that one relevant. The new millennium has been marred by politics and war, as indicated by a shift away from the optomistic tech words of yore, to grand prize words like ‘chad’ (2000), ‘9/11’ (2001), ‘WMD’ (2002), and ‘blue/red/purple states’ (2004). ‘Daisy cutter’ (2001), ‘regime change’ (2002) and ‘pre-emptive self-defence’ (2003) have all been awarded most euphemistic. Nestled between them, ‘Meterosexual’ (Grand prize 2003) seems out of place.
In 1990, ‘PC’, or ‘politically correct’ was most outrageous. Apparently ‘bungee jumping’ was new to the scene, and ‘notebook PC’ was granted, quite rightfully, the honour of most likely to succeed. I wonder whatever happened to ‘bushlips’—defined as “incinsere political rhetoric.” Seems like it’s about time that one came back into style. I can still remember my mom, curiously commenting on a ‘rollerblade’ phenomenon circa 1992; about that time, ‘gender feminism’ was quite unnecessary. I beg to differ. ‘Soccer mom’ broke onto the scene in 1996 at the height of the minivan era. I wonder what happened to 1994’s most promising word, ‘Infobahn’. The ‘World Wide Web’ (grand prize 1995) and its synonyms get honours under a variety of categories throughout the nineties. When’s the last time you heard someone talk about the ‘information superhighway’ (grand prize 1993)? ‘Web’ actually takes the cake for the decade. I hope they got it right when they declared “Blog” the most likely succeeds in 2002; they must have been slightly off their game in 2000 when they bestowed the same honour to ‘muggle’. I didn’t realize there were enough wizards around to make that one relevant. The new millennium has been marred by politics and war, as indicated by a shift away from the optomistic tech words of yore, to grand prize words like ‘chad’ (2000), ‘9/11’ (2001), ‘WMD’ (2002), and ‘blue/red/purple states’ (2004). ‘Daisy cutter’ (2001), ‘regime change’ (2002) and ‘pre-emptive self-defence’ (2003) have all been awarded most euphemistic. Nestled between them, ‘Meterosexual’ (Grand prize 2003) seems out of place.
