Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Then & Now

(Click the links 'Then' & 'Now' or else the whole text is confusing!)




The former were a band of individuals who resisted an occupation that they disagreed with.

The latter are the same.

The former believed that their ties to the land went beyond the oppressive fist that tried to take what was theirs--in this case, taxes--and rose up to strike down the mercenaries that held them at bay with their guns and artillery.

So do the latter, only they seem to prefer roadside bombings and mortar attacks (along with rocket propelled grenades and AK-47's...it is the future, after all).

The former founded a nation that believed in freedom, prosperity, and the equality of man (as long as that man wasn't a woman, or black).

The latter are being oppressed by the great-great-great grandchildren of the former.

I'm inclined to believe that the insurgency in Iraq is doing a good thing--killing civilians aside, which I vehemently oppose--and even if I despise the idea of a fundamentalist Islamic state in Iraq, what do you expect when it is invaded by the Christian States of America? Are they all going to lie down and eat the body of Christ? It's not happening.

At least the Iraqis are fighting for their nation's freedom: freedom from control by foreign powers; freedom from economic manipulation by oil hungry tyrants; above all, freedom to choose their own form of sovereignty. Like the Minutemen over two hundred years before, the Iraqis will have their day, and America will close her bases in Baghdad and move to some other desert, likely to conquer more brown people to take their oil.

So it goes.

That's what happens when you watch a 1-hour Michael Moore speech. He does things to your head. (Ann Coulter already diagnosed me. I am definately a psychotic of some sort. Can somebody please send me some percoset?)

Thursday, October 27, 2005

America, Land of the "Woefully Misinformed"

"In December 1994, 57% of Americans had not heard of Newt Gingrich. In 1964, 62% of Americans believed the USSR was a member of NATO. Most Americans can't name any of their congressmen. Polls consistently show that a majority of Americans believe simultaneously that the federal government is too large and powerful, and that spending in almost all federal programs should be increased - that's a logical contradiction. Today, 70% do not know that a Medicare prescription drug benefit has been legislated, and 58% have heard 'very little' or 'nothing' about the USA Patriot Act. In 2000 only 57% of Americans knew that Gore was more liberal than Bush."

-Jason Sorens, PH.D.,Speech to SUNY-Fredonia Students & Faculty, October 21, 2005.

Statistics like these ones tend to make me shiver like the winds that blow on the coldest days of our fierce Canadian winters. I'm not saying that all Americans are as 'out of the loop' as the ones mentioned in these statistics, but that is precisely why things are going bad south of the 49th parallel lately--Katrina & Rita excluded, which were probably due to the oft-denied Global Warming that is causing weather patterns to become more chaotic--no, America is treading calmly towards becoming a corporation state, where the richest make the decisions and the poor hold up the ceiling of the house.

Democracy, or at least the strange hybrid we have turned it into, depends squarely upon the political involvement and ability to reason by most (if not all) of the citizens. When only the elite have the reins of power, they are bound to lead the rest of us astray.

What can be done to remind America that it is responsible for its own future? The populace must be reached somehow, not with attack ads or partisan pandering, but a genuine movement that will reach out to Americans of all walks of life and educate them about the political landscape.

If not, don't be surprised when China et al. begin to buy up your businesses, your land, and God-forbid, foreclose on the billions of dollars of debt owed to them for the past 5 years of excessive American spending. Also, you should definately learn how to speak Chinese, or even Japanese. The bosses will expect to be spoken to in their native language. The easy way out is teaching Americans how to vote (instead of staying home on voting day and letting extremists win)and teaching people about the laws that exist to protect their freedom and prosperity.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Bin Laden Didn't Blow Up the Projects

Since I haven't been updating as of late, here is the best rapper on earth, Immortal Technique. Enjoy these lyrics and buy/download/steal this song if you can.

Peace & excuse the N word.


[Mos Def - talking]
Man, you hear this bullshit they be talkin'
Every day, man
It's like these motherfuckers is just like professional liars
YouknowwhatI'msayin? It's wild

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]

[Verse 1 - Immortal Technique]
I pledge no allegiance, nigga fuck the president's speeches
I'm baptized by America and covered in leeches
The dirty water that bleaches your soul and your facial features
Drownin' you in propaganda that they spit through the speakers
And if you speak about the evil that the government does
The Patriot Act'll track you to the type of your blood
They try to frame you, and say you was tryna sell drugs
And throw a federal indictment on niggaz to show you love
This shit is run by fake Christians, fake politicians
Look at they mansions, then look at the conditions you live in
All they talk about is terrorism on television
They tell you to listen, but they don't really tell you they mission
They funded Al-Qaeda, and now they blame the Muslim religion
Even though Bin Laden, was a CIA tactician
They gave him billions of dollars, and they funded his purpose
Fahrenheit 9/11, that's just scratchin' the surface

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]

[Verse 2 - Immortal Technique]
They say the rebels in Iraq still fight for Saddam
But that's bullshit, I'll show you why it's totally wrong
Cuz if another country invaded the hood tonight
It'd be warfare through Harlem, and Washington Heights
I wouldn't be fightin' for Bush or White America's dream
I'd be fightin' for my people's survival and self-esteem
I wouldn't fight for racist churches from the south, my nigga
I'd be fightin' to keep the occupation out, my nigga
You ever clock someone who talk shit, or look at you wrong?
Imagine if they shot at you, and was rapin' your moms
And of course Saddam Hussein had chemical weapons
We sold him that shit, after Ronald Reagan's election
Mercenary contractors fightin' a new era
Corporate military bankin' off the war on terror
They controllin' the ghetto, with the failed attack
Tryna distract the fact that they engineerin' the crack
So I'm strapped like Lee Malvo holdin' a sniper rifle
These bullets'll touch your kids, and I don't mean like Michael
Your body be sent to the morgue, stripped down and recycled
I fire on house niggaz that support you and like you
Cuz innocent people get murdered in the struggle daily
And poor people never get shit and struggle daily
This ain't no alien conspiracy theory, this shit is real
Written on the dollar underneath the Masonic seal

(I don't rap for dead presidents
I'd rather see the president dead
It's never been said but I set precedents)--[Eminem]

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]

(Shady Records was 80 seconds away from the towers
Some cowards fucked with the wrong building, they meant to hit ours)-- [Eminem]

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

4 Excuses For My Haphazard Updates of Late

Friends, women, countrymen...lend me your eyes.

I have been gone for many blue moons, only tossing rubbish and band promotion at you all instead of penning incendiary political criticism or interviews with Montreal's music illuminati. While some would attribute my lack of output to my lazy, id-feeding habits, I would argue that the following 4 excuses will get me off Scott-free.

  • Concordia University
  • Skipping classes is a hard thing to do, both for students and non-students alike. Although I have missed a couple along the way, I have really been attending history and religion classes this semester, seriously depleting both my free time and my will to spend hours in front of a computer taking literary sniper shots at the Big Brother Inc. scum south of my border.
  • The Dissonants
  • We have been playing a lot of shows recently (with the Redscare, Silent Film Soundtrack, Rio Bent, and most recently Death of Fashion) but this will change very soon. [Ed. Note: The Dissonants broke up on Wednesday, September 28th. It was an amicable split and the guys will probably get drunk together every so often as pals. Phil Shearing is going to pursue a solo project and as of press time, the rumour was that Armen Forget was starting a new band with his old singer, Phil (a different Phil, with longer hair). Nikos may be involved but this could not be confirmed.]
  • Recreational intoxicants
  • When you're as high as a 747, it is quite difficult to actually sit down at a keyboard to contribute anything of use to humanity. Think Pete Doherty, only I don't do crack or heroin. It's really crap, anyway. My new plan is to focus on smoking dope only once a week, drinking whenever it pleases me, and staying away from Colombian seductresses who leave your wallet sore and your throat torn up the day after.
  • Interviews in the Concordia Link
  • Since the beginning of the semester, I've interviewed two bands/musicians. The first was Whiskeytrench and turned out to be a great piece, but I missed my deadline and my editor gave the assignment to someone else. The second piece was with Beaver. That guy is one inspiring sonofabitch, in the nicest way possible. He deserves to be a megastar, or at least a new Leonard Cohen or something.

Friday, August 26, 2005

Panacea & The Dissonants @ 1221 Crescent Street Pub, Sat. Aug. 27th


Missed the Aug. 20th gig? Alternately, if you were there but want another dose of noxious Dissonance, then, by all means, please come this Saturday! (Way too many commas in that last phrase but I digress.)


Panacea & The Dissonants
Aug. 27th, 2005
1221 Crescent Street Pub
Doors @ 8 PM

Saturday, August 13, 2005

The Dissonants - "Temper's a Chord" - Video

Recorded at Missy Bar on July 30th, this video features the Dissonants, Montreal's finest antipunk band. Raw and slightly jagged, their music is poppish enough to placate the masses but sublime enough to get off the critics. "Temper's a Chord" has a lot of energy and will restore vision to the blind, put arms back on lepers, and instill a deep sense of well-being in every living soul (and it chops a mean onion).

[Ed. Note: Google Video died and so did the video, and I don't have the original...so here is a link to the song itself on Myspace...Cheers, Phil https://myspace.com/thedissonantsband/music/song/temper-s-a-chord-26201309-26002494]

For more songs & tour dates, visit The Dissonants on Myspace.com

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Late night update

Saw Shoot the Moon & Wolf Parade last night (Friday).

Will write a review after I sleep for at least 100 hours.

Also, expect a CD review of Silent Film Soundtrack's last LP.

I'm only human! Must sleep.

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Natasha, The Dissonants, Silent Film Soundtrack @ Missy Bar - Saturday, July 30th, $5

Sweaty, pasty summer heat got you down? Step into the cozy cavern known as Missy Bar on Saturday, July 30th and enjoy some free air conditioning and a kick-ass rock show. Featuring a boisterous line-up of Canuck indie bands, it will be a bounteous offering unto the rock gods. [Ed. Note: Jeremy, did anyone ever offer you a job as a flack? I know, you were kicked out of J-School, but maybe you're onto something here! At least you didn't use the word "seminal."]

First up will be Natasha, a razor-sharp post-rock outfit. Already getting some major attention from the local indie francophone set--their song "Esclavo del Rocanrol" is ranked 10th on the CISM 89.3 FM charts this week--they will definately bring some interesting sonic weapons to the table. (Oooh, I hope they bring a scythe!)

Next will be the band everyone loves to hate (before realizing that it was love all along and having furious, passionate make-up sex), The Dissonants. Fresh off a successful 3-show slate during the 2005 Infringement Festival, the Dissonants have promised to play several new songs that they've written in the past month. Not punk enough to hang out with Fat Mike but not rocker enough to do heroin, these unfortunately named cadavers-to-be always put on one hell of a show. They will Rise like yeast this Fall, or so I've been told.

The word on the street is that lead guitarist Armen is going to raffle off a guitar pedal he built with his own two hands, which is definately a first for the Montreal area. (Those crazy, crazy electrical engineers cannot be stopped!)

Rounding out the frenetic night will be Waterloo, Ontario's own Silent Film Soundtrack. With an Eastern Canadian tour ahead of them in August supporting their new release "diplomats & confidants", Silent Film Soundtrack will have Montreal's scenesters drooling on their Blackspots. SFS's sound is authentic and dreamy, not unlike their compatriots Broken Social Scene or even a mellower And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead. With warm keys washing over intriguing guitar licks and their tight-as-a-tiger rhythm section, these guys are headlining for a reason.

A pre-music graf show starts at 7:00 PM and Missy's doors will open at 8:00 PM. The music will kick off at 9:00 o'clock sharp unless an STM bus crushes one of the bands into blood and guitar strings. My spidey sense tells me that there will only be space for about 100 people, so be early!

[Ed. Note: You can contact Philip Shearing at 514-242-9840 if you want to buy tickets in advance. Also, you can email thedissonants@gmail.com for tix or if you have any questions.]

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Fall To Rise Hate The Dissonants

During last month's Infringement Festival, The Dissonants played a gig at Quai Des Brumes with the mediocre goth-lite band Fall to Rise. Afterwards, while trolling the web for press about said gig, singer/guitarist Phil came across a Livejournal post that slagged his bandmates. It was posted by Tim, Fall To Rise's keyboardist.

Eternally loyal, Phil forwarded this information to Armen (lead guitarist) and Nikos (drummer), who immediately lept into action. After a quite lengthy flame-war, involving many of the band members from both sides, Tim banned all anonymous posts and accused the Dissonants of doing too many drugs. (He was right about the drugs, of course!)

In an attempt to end the "beef" and lessen the chances of a Montreal indie-band gang war, Phil wrote the following message to Fall To Rise:

Turning off commenting on your Livejournal, Tim?

That's it guys! I'm taking my ball, and I'm going home!

In other words, you could not win the battle of words so you had to
censor us all.

Dissonants 1, Tim's pride 0.

It sucks because I went out of my way to avoid conflict but your
persistent ignorance has soured our relationship. Please don't
threaten my bandmates (or me, for that matter). You're barking up the
wrong tree, puppy.

Slightly Pissed off Phil

In response to this vaguely pacific message, Tim wrote this epic email to the Dissonants email address. (The grammar/spelling errors are all authentic)

Keyboardist for Fall To Rise

Never one to listen to orders, Phil wrote this honourable missive, and awaits a response:


Good to hear from you, old friend! How are things with you? Sorry to
hear that you've been reduced to threatening me, all in caps, via
email. I'm really scared of keyboardists!

I believe in peace.

If you want to hurt me, go right ahead. My friends won't forget it.

Oh yeah, and you can kill me but you'd just be the Mark David Chapman
to my John Lennon.

Peace, love, and brotherhood.


P.S. We should keep this up. It might get your band some visibility.
You can use all the press you can get. Hell, why not kill my whole
band simultaneously? I can see the headline now.

"Unknown Keyboardist Brutally Massacres Up-and-Coming Montreal Band


Although Phil is a big fan of Jon (guitarist for Fall To Rise), and is quite good friends with Tim's twin brother Gordie, he is very alarmed at the testosterone level of the rest of Fall To Rise. It is amazing that two unknown bands can be at each other's throats over something so inconsequential as charging cover at a show (FTR did not want to charge cover while the Dissonants were charging a measly 5 bucks and split the proceeds with all 3 bands who performed that night).

This is like Tupac and Biggie all over again. Phil has vowed to ride or die, and Tim was busy polishing his Yamaha and hence was unavailable for comment.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

The Pious Rapture is Upon Us!

Know what really gets me down? Reading about fundamentalist nudniks who torment young people and try to force them to "straighten out". (Kudos to my sister for digging up an interesting news story!)

A 16-year old blogger named Zach from Tennesse was allegedly sent to "Love in Action", a group home/prison colony, by his sick, holy parents who are hoping to cure him of his "unhealthy" disease, ie. his homosexuality. Zach hasn't posted anything on his website since then. Small wonder: Internet use is prohibited. So is speaking, at least when you arrive at this cruel, bizarre Gitmo of a "rehabilitation program":

1. All new Refuge clients will be placed into Safekeeping for the initial two to three days of their program. A client on safekeeping may not communicate verbally, or by using hand gestures or eye contact, with any other clients, staff members, or his/her parents or guardians. In case of a practical need, Safekeeping clients may write down their question or request and show it to another client, staff member, or their parent or guardian. Writing may only be used when absolutely necessary. Parents and guardians must enforce their child's safekeeping status at home or in their temporary lodging.

Thou shalt Not Write:

10. Absolutely no journaling or keeping a diary outside of the MI process unless directed or approved by staff.

Even more alarming, this may have been plagiarized from George Orwell's 1984:

6. No television viewing, going to movies, or reading/watching/listening to secular media of any kind, anywhere within the client's and the parent's/guardian's control. This includes listening to classical or instrumental music that is not expressly Christian (Beethoven, Bach, etc. are not considered Christian). The only exception to the media policy is the weekly movie.

7. Refuge clients may watch one video/DVD per week that has been approved by staff via C.O.C. Movies submitted for approval must be rated G or PG. The parents/guardians are responsible for securing the video/DVD.

It won't be long before America becomes the Western equivalent of Saudi Arabia. I need a drink.

Secularism es muerto.
Secularisme est mort.
Secularism έχει πεθάνει.
Secularism has died.
Secularism is gestorven.
The rapture is upon us.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Don't Shoot The Messenger!

I can say with absolute veracity that I've discovered the best band that you've never heard of yet. They are a Mount-Vesuvius, rawk-spewing bunch of hooligans who may someday conquer Canada as a whole, and their name is Dead Messenger.

Performing live at Jupiter Room this past Sunday, they were tight as a lambskin and the whole room was grooving and bopping. Coming across like a funky, punkish hybrid of Primus and old-school punk, they defy convention and can't be easily categorized or pigeonholed.

Check out their song "Naked Chickens" (with their omni-talented bass player Seb on vocals). Another good one is "What's in a number?" but it sounds much better live for some reason.

Discovering a band like Dead Messenger makes me count my lucky stars. I am walking amongst giants in this dirty metropolis, the best city in North America.

Friday, June 17, 2005

JB Cover of Elliott Smith's "St-Ide's Heaven"

Please excuse the hiccups. This song is one of my favourites, although I do a butcher job of it in this recording! At least I think I got the lyrics right.

this is an audio post - click to play

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Censorship on C-Span

Wow! Rep. George Sensenbrenner (R-WI) is a real bastard.

Speech is only free as long as your microphone is still plugged in. Otherwise, how will the viewers at home realize that their rights are being disembowled? Oh, right. Republicans control the House, the Senate, the Whitehouse, and they're working on the Judiciary. Makes a lot of sense.

You can find a clip here (C-Span 2) of the bizarre event (scroll to near the end of the video for when Mr. Sensenbrenner cuts the mics and walks out like he owns the place.

The Dissonants @ Missy Bar - Monday, June 13th.

(From left to right: Armen, Phil, and Jeremy. Nikos can't be seen!)

Courtesy of Val Turbak. Thanks Val!

"Tale of my Teeth" by JB

This is a short story.
Philip's teeth began to speak to each other, or rather the pink roots inside the teeth began to speak, and not speak in the literal sense, but with flows of blood which contained messages that would be shared by the whole mouth. "Gentlemen, it is time to face the grave danger that our fathers spoke of so long ago" said the front left tooth, one of the biggest in Philip's mouth. Front left was rectangular and often appeared in conversations with other mouths. He was an a figurehead; the ambassador, if you will. "Before they pushed their way to the freedom, breaking the brutal enslavement inflicted by the primitive gums, our fathers were nothing but roots beneath the surface. They synthesized enamel and fought for our liberty. Now, they have all fallen out, but we shall not forget them, condemned to their watery graves."

"Get to the point", said the bottom small tooth, second from Philip's left front tooth. "You're taking all day to tell us what we've been thinking all along...The Prophecy was right. The Wise Teeth would one day appear."

"Settle down, bottom second-from-left. I was only delivering an impromptu lesson on our glorious fallen fathers, the roots of our past. I got a little off track, I admit. Let us..."

Just then, the pushing came again. Primordial pressure, like the constant lurch of time, pushed inside the mouth. From the back rear teeth and pushing forward, the force was immovable, and the teeth began to shriek in confusion. "God! The Pain!" said the rear teeth on top. The flesh around them was red and battered, like the inside of raw salmon, stretched taut as the skin of a drum. They were pushing so close together that the gums all around them looked as if they would bleed at any minute. The crisis was nigh.

"Please! Ignore it. Block it out! Let the pain roll away, and stand firm. Don't let the Wise Teeth push us further together! The integrity of the mouth DEPENDS on it," said the top left, dominating the situation as usual. The pointy left front tooth snickered. "This guy makes everything sound like a Winston Churchill speech or something..." he commented. A laugh erupted through the whole mouth, with hundreds of messages floating through the veins happily.

"I propose a solution", said the usually silent front right tooth, the insider, who always hid behind the front left. He was a mysterious character with a mystical reputation. Many considered him the shaman of the mouth. "It is a hard one, but the only way that the Wise Teeth will settle with us peacefully. We have to push one of our own out."

A gasp pulsed all throughout the mouth. Even the enamel seemed to shake. Push someone out? That would mean death of the root and considerable pain for the enamel, which would probably float downstream to the ocean with common rock trash and seashells. Gone it would be from its rightful place within Philip's mouth, a position inherited since birth, after its father root had broken a hole to the surface and given him a place to exit the fleshy womb of the gums.

Second from-the-left-bottom-tooth voiced his disapproval with Top Right Front's radical idea. "It means elimination of the remaining symmetry of the mouth. When this mouth started, it was with the intentions of making a perfect half-moon shape, with equal space for each tooth and comfort for everyone, including the cheeks and gums. Granted, the way we were unable to control the growth of our enamel was unexpected. I wish that our fathers had left us a clue on how to ensure each tooth grew to the same size, but anyhow...we're in this mess. I think we have to find a way out of it, without causing one of our own to fall clear out!"

Many of the teeth agreed with his statement, but nearly all of them were scared to admit it. Most didn't want to stand out from the group. They were embarassed that the front bottom and top teeth couldn't agree on anything. Some of the back teeth actually believed that the front teeth had made themselves crooked on purpose, just to give themselves distinct appearances to attract attention and denote importance in Philip's mouth. Of course, they never revealed this to the front teeth, and spoke in code, because they feared the front teeth, who generally were far more outgoing.

Middle-Front-Right tooth laughed at the leftist little bottom tooth. "Your ideas are pink and fleshy. I am telling you...the only way the wisdom teeth will stop pushing is if we make room for them in this mouth. They need their own place to come out."

"Traitor! Traitor! Conspirator!" shouted the top right tooth, a large corner tooth that used to be pointy like the top left, but had been humbled by a bicycle accident when Philip was 8. Philip had fallen off his bicycle and had chipped off the tip of Top Right Corner-tooth. Since the accident, he had never been the same. He now rarely celebrated or admonished the other teeth's exploits. Until this moment, he had been mostly a recluse, perhaps only a shade more outgoing than Top Right Middle. "You are crazy to even think about letting the Wise Teeth out. They're pushing the back teeth as we speak. You know how the prophecy goes. They shall cause massive upheaval, pushing their way until we all crush into each other and our enamel shatters into dust. Our roots will dry up and Philip's mouth will be empty."

"Except for me", said the tongue. The rest of the mouth ignored him.

"I am no more a conspirator than you, Top-Right-Corner. After all, it wasn't my enamel that happened to come within contact with common pavement. I bet you enjoyed being chipped by that sidewalk. You probably got an illicit thrill."

"LIAR!" shouted Top Right Corner tooth angrily, losing his composure quickly. This isn't at all uncommon for corner teeth, who carry the enormous responsibility of guarding the integrity of the inner teeth and blocking the entry of would-be intruders, such as baseball bats and red brick walls. The corner teeth, although brave, were also in great danger every day. That may be why they are such patriots, willing to sacrifice themselves for the inner teeth that depend on them. For this reason, the other teeth remained silent during the exchange between Top Right Corner and Middle-Front Right.

Second-from-the-right-top spoke up. "What if we had another way around this problem?"

"What do you mean? There is no way to reason with madroots like the Wise Teeth. They have but one perogative, and that is to extinguish all teeth within the mouth except themselves," said the Top Left Middle.

"No, you misunderstand my plan. What if we were to all succomb to pain, give up our resistance, and stop pushing back when the Wise Teeth push us? Perhaps the pain would be so great that Philip would notice our plight and find a God to get them removed, instead of us."

Second-from-the-right-top was one of the most unpopular teeth. He was believed to be vain, and his enamel had a curve which was visible to other mouths. He could be said to be somewhat of a glory hog, although this idea was probably the best one yet.

"What if he doesn't do anything about it? We don't know how long he'll stay at the job where he is now..." said Top Left Middle. "Who knows when his 80% coverage of Gods runs out? And we know that removing the Wise Teeth would be a costly proposition. One thing is for certain-- Philip would never finance the operation from his own pocket. He would never pay that kind of fee himself. Our hope is doomed!"

"It doesn't mean that we shouldn't try," said Second-From-The-Right-Top, obviously enjoying the attention. His words began to resonate among the other teeth. "Our rootfathers once gave us freedom, and now we shall fight to maintain that freedom. I am not asking us to surrender...I'm asking us to believe. To believe in whom? Philip, the keeper of the mouth, slave of the Gods. It is to Philip that we owe our creation, but our Gods preserve us. With their green lab coats and those hygenic masks over their faces, they repair us when we are damaged, and they clean us when we are troubled and covered in plaque. And they shall save us, because Philip shall fill out the insurance form and go and get that operation done. The Wise Teeth will be removed. This smile will remain intact."

The other teeth applauded this statement by varying their blood flows to one another gradually. One of the wealthy, arterial back teeth put in an order for some adrenaline and a whole bunch of endorphins. A celebration was at hand! The teeth rejoiced, renewed by their new plan, and confident that they would remain free and intact, however crooked, until the Gods decide to remove them, or until Philip gets hit by that bus when he reaches 85.

~Jeremy Brendan, ©2000, All Rights Reserved.

Strange Days Have Fallen

Proof that the impending weird has descended upon what we know as reality:

  • Warthog accident:
  • My Ottawain/Arizonan journalist friend Kenneth Hedges swerved to avoid a warthog on the highway and totalled his car. He wasn't injured but I believe that the police had to contact the warthog's family to tell them the tragic news.
  • Constant Rain Thwarts Busking:
  • Bereft of a bus pass, I had planned to busk each day this week to raise enough money to buy a week's worth of public transportation. Instead, Montreal's first monsoon season has struck and I've been chilling indoors waiting for it to subside.
  • Dissonants Shows=Buttah!:
  • My band the Dissonants pulled off three shows without any major hiccups or other crises. Excellent crowd response, decent attendance, and ebulliant, gorgeous model-type friends cheering us on in the crowd. Couldn't ask for more, yet it boggles the mind just the same. (We're playing Missy Bar again on the 30th of July but I have to call the owner to confirm!)
  • MJ Escapes:
  • After the testimony of Jay Leno and Chris Tucker, a jury of Michael Jackson's peers allowed him to dart off to the little boy's room unmolested. Jesus juice? Macaulay Culkin? I am not one to believe in the apocalypse, but now might be the right time to join an Evangelical militia movement somewhere in Utah.
  • Odd Horoscopes:
  • Yesterday my horoscope said that I would get a job, or I would create something of artistic merit. I had a job interview at Discount Rent-A-Car and the interviewer seemed to dig my bohemian hippy-haired style and my lack of polish. He told me to expect a call within the next two days (I have to send him my references first, which could potentially nix my chances...even so...)
  • Relative Contentment on my part:
  • I am unemployed, bling-less, somewhat healthy, and I have to go to court for tax evasion. Even so, I am in good spirits and feel like everything is going to work out. This is the clincher that I think proves--in my sphere of existence anyhow--that strange days have fallen.

Anything bizarre happen to you lately? Please share it with us & perhaps we can find some commonalities or linkages between these disparate events.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Dissonants to Play in Montreal Infringement Festival

Montreal's finest anti-punk band the Dissonants will be playing three shows this week as part of the Infringement Festival.

(PRWEB) June 10, 2005 -- Montreal's rag-tag squad of anti-punk rockers, the Dissonants, will be playing three shows in three nights this Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

The three show mini-tour is part of the 2005 Montreal Infringement Festival. The Dissonants will appear at the following venues:
w/ Launie Anderssohn @ Toc Toc on Saturday, June 11th. ($5)
w/ Fall to Rise and Mistaken Heroes @ Quai des Brumes on Sunday, June 12th. ($5)
w/ One Away and Mistaken Heros @ Missy Bar on Monday, June 13th. ($5)

Singer/rhythm guitarist Philip Shearing has promised that his band will go beyond the call of duty. "Armen (lead guitarist) is talking about filling one of the three bars with whipped cream as we pound our instruments into a maelstrom of furious punkish rock. And Armen never lies. Ever."

Shearing also went on to make a solemn vow. "If you aren't happy with any of our sets, feel free to beat us with Nerf bats or throw rolled up twenty dollar bills at our heads. We dare you."

The Dissonants are also inviting fans and attendees of the shows to bring canned goods which will be donated to the St-Vincent de Paul Society.

For more information, please call Jeremy Brendan @ 514-242-9840 or email him @ jeremybrendan@gmail.com.

# # #

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

"Tired and Poor, Come on Down!"

Imagine my surprise when my friendly, United-Nations loving web browser Opera displayed a banner that proclaimed "Win the green card lottery. Become A Citizen of the United States!" This is very alarming.

Admittedly, when it comes to gambling, I'm not exactly a craps dealer, but I'm not cloistered in the Vatican either. I have never bought a Super 7 or a Lotto 6/49 ticket although I used to play bingo with my mother in the school cafeteria. But gambling for your citizenship? Have we resorted to building a New Vegas for the refugees?

'Give me your tired and your poor, let me write their names on little scraps of paper, let's spin this barrel for awhile, and then fifty thousand lucky little foreigners will gain access to our land, for better or for worse.'

I can picture the game show, airing on Fox of course, right after America's Most Gruesome Wedding Accidents (7 PM EST). (I'm painting with broad strokes here so please don't expect any sublime, nuanced satire here. This is just me tossing pebbles across a sandbox.)


"Hosni al-Mughrabi, come on down! You are the next contestant on "America's Right", the show where we remind you that our way of life is far superior."

Hosni runs down the aisle waving his arms and smiling. He is covered from head to toe in his native garb and he has tears in his eyes.

"So, Hosni, where do you hail from?" asks the bureaucrat with the perfectly coiffed Elvis hairdo, about to write him a ballot for the 2003 Green Card draw.(TM)

Hosni begins to say "Ir..." as two Homeland Security stiffs run up, handcuff him, and drag him into a room for questioning. The screen goes blank and then begins to show a little American flag waving proudly to the strains of Bruce Springsteen's 'The Rising', until the stiffs realize that he's from Iran, not Iraq, although they secretly believe that both of those countries are breeding grounds for terrorists. Hosni is shuffled back to his place in front of the Jeopardyesque stage. There are cameras fixed on him but he's not sure if anyone is watching this.

Little does he know that he is one of the pawns in the largest ratings sweep in history, by none other than C-Span (in association with Fox).

The bureaucrat smiles without showing his teeth and says "Welcome back to Green Card Lotto, where everyone with a high school diploma or two years of work experience has a chance to plug one of the 50 thousand slots that we offer to overseas folks. Our newest contestant, Honsey...it sounds more like a good honest Christian name... What did you say your last name was? Mudravy? Sounds about right -- Honsey is going to tell us a little bit about where he is from."

"My name is Hosni..." says our contestant, his eyes lowered and his voice calm and restrained.

"Whatever, Ayatollah. Anyhow, did you see the commotion going on across the border from your slum village? Are ya feeling a little worried that our fearless leader might send some cowboys to pay you Erans a visit?" asks the bureaucrat, ending his sentence on a high note as he looks at the cameras for support.

"I want to come to America to study."

"No pilot school, though, right?"

"What?" Hosni seems slightly confused.

"Never mind. Which pillar did you plan on studying, boy? I hear that daily prayer is a doozy."

"I want to become an economist. And another thing...maybe I want to move to America, but I want to keep a little bit of Iran right here, you know? My country has it's problems but we were once a strong and powerful nation. We were inventing mathematics and achieving great conquests while your country was nothing but forests and plains. You must give us the respect that we are due. We are a humble people but we don't all live in mud huts. Even if we did, your country has people sleeping in the snow without shoes on."

"Only because here in America, we have too many poor people. If only we could make a reverse lottery and send the whole lot of them to live in your country...that would be something, wouldn't it?"

"There are poor people everywhere," said Hosni, scratching above his eye and looking very disappointed in the "American Way".

"Honsey, if you want to be an American, there are a few simple rules you just gotta follow. First of all, always keep your freedom, and when I say freedom, I mean freedom of speech, freedom to bear arms, freedom to be watched by our own government... simple-God fearing freedoms like that. I know that you're not used to that, I mean with the hands being chopped off and all, but you're going to have to learn that in this war on terrorism, you're either with us or against us."

"What about neutral countries?"

"You mean like Switzerland? Oh, who can trust those chocolate-loving Alps hikers? Who cares about "Old Europe" anyway? Let them reenact the French-Indian War for all I care."

The bureaucrat claps his hands together and two attendants, both clad in Nike jogging suits, dart up to Hosni. One removes his traditional headdress as the other replaces it with a red, white, and blue tophat, with a neon rendering of the American Flag flashing up the stovepipe. The bureaucrat throws Hosni's ballot into an emerald-encrusted barrel and gives it a spin. Commerical break.

Hosni removes the tophat, grabs his headdress, and runs out the door. He cabs it to the Canadian embassy and is surprised by the quaint little building with the single armed guard in front. He wonders if there is a "Canadian Way".


Canada accepts about 225,000 refugees and immigrants per year. Everyone is welcome, whether you are the gambling type or not. All that we ask is that you learn French if possible, and that you don't expect to carry around a handgun. And watch hockey, as soon as the NHL gets back on the ice. Or just fill out a ballot and maybe America will accept you with open arms (provided you have your grade 12!)

Does the Green Card Lotto make sense to you? Share your thoughts with us.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

I'm Going to Be Rich!

Opportunity knocks in the strangest of places. I just got this email and I am very confident that I'll be blinging in no time. If any of you are interested in joining in on this venture, let me know and I'll forward you this gentleman's contact information.




Sunday, May 29, 2005

China's Constitution & Why It is Broken

"Article 35. Citizens of the People's Republic of China enjoy freedom of speech, of the press, of assembly, of association, of procession and of demonstration."
Constitution of the People's Republic of China

The Chinese constitution was adopted on December 4th, 1982 and it is chock full of lofty, benevolent ideas like freedom of assembly and equality of all peoples. Sadly, the soldiers driving tanks through Tianamen Square in 1989 must not have been aware of Article 35, as they crushed a student protest in a bloody massacre that the Chinese Government remains silent about to this day.

One thing the Chinese people can count on is that they won't be Patriot-acted like their American cousins.

"Article 39. The home of citizens of the People's Republic of China is inviolable. Unlawful search of, or intrusion into, a citizen's home is prohibited."

Article 35 may be abused from time to time but Article 40 is most certainly torn to shreds on a daily basis.

"Article 40. The freedom and privacy of correspondence of citizens of the People's Republic of China are protected by law. No organization or individual may, on any ground, infringe upon the freedom and privacy of citizens' correspondence except in cases where, to meet the needs of state security or of investigation into criminal offences, public security or procuratorial organs are permitted to censor correspondence in accordance with procedures prescribed by law."

If Chinese authorities respect privacy, why are all blogs blocked from Chinese interet users? My friends in China can't read my blog--apparently, China employs a gargantuan firewall that filters requests from sites with "packet sniffing technology" seeking certain prohibited keywords--and this is fundamentally an example of censorship, the kind that curdles my milk.

It could be argued that no nation-state really follows its constitution to the letter, or whatever system of law it holds dear. Countries don't have a conscience and will generally do what allows them to thrive, whether their citizens suffer or not.

Even in our utopic northern liberal paradise, we Canadians have been jerked around by the government countless times. In the Gaspe Coast where I'm from, when the government made Bonaventure Island into a nature preserve, they evicted several families with little or no compensation, uprooting them from the land they had lived on for generations. Same with Mirabel International Airport, the White Elephant they built on the remains of family farms forcibly traded at pitiful prices.

Still, I wish that we could design some form of government that actually believes the words and guarantees that it makes, one that would be willing to declare peace on the peoples of the world. We've all heard of declarations of war, so why not peace?

Since China is the most populous nation on earth, they deserve attention and criticism when their people are being short-changed by a repressive government. In the past two years, I've taken aim on America's shortcomings and mistakes many times but in doing so, I've neglected to admit that nations like China have a long way to go in the march towards freedom. Even with idiotic laws like the ones contained in the Patriot Act, America is still more free than many nations.

If Xinhuanet, the official state-approved news service is any indication, the Chinese people are aware of what is going on in the world around them, and they will take their freedom back one day. (if they've ever been free? Has anyone in the world ever truly been free?) We need a worldwide movement that encourages revolution (peacefully, of course) and that thwarts the oppression and domination of humanity. Who will lead us? Are any of you willing to step forward and risk life and limb for everyone else? Personally, I nominate Dennis Kucinich.

Who would make a good leader for a global freedom movement? Discuss. (Ghandi and other dead folks are excluded from the list!)

Friday, May 27, 2005

Dissonants, Jesus & the Headliners, Coriander, Tabula Rasa @ Reggie's, June 1st

Yes, there is a punk show & you're all invited. Come and see Jeremy Brendan get hazed by his cruel bandmates. Marvel at the anti-punk sound of the Dissonants. Jesus & the Headliners have promised to save your soul and then trade it to the devil for corn chips. Some of you may remember that Coriander played with the Dissonants once before and their sound is pure and frenetic. Tabula Rasa will also be bringing their bag of Trix.

Proceedings start at 8 PM so be early and grab a booth seat!


The Dissonants
Jesus & the Headliners
Tabula Rasa
(& Friends)
Reggie's, 1455 de Maisonneuve
(Inside Concordia University, Metro Guy-Concordia)

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

JB Summer Mix-Tape

In commemoration of our 20-thousandth visitor (since we started counting!), here is my suggestion for a mix-tape that you can blast at 90 db to the concern and disgust of your neighbors. It starts off punky and raw but eventually settles down into an indie-rock anthem sort of speed, before winking out like a votive candle in a wind tunnel with a couple of plaintive acoustic tunes. You can find most of these songs on the web or in your favourite filesharing app. Good luck, and godspeed!


  1. Causey Way - Jesus Loves You: Lo-fi new-wavish punk rock by the now-defunct Causey Way band. The Causey Way were a self-admitted cult, although it was more of a marketing thing than a Jim-Jones Kool-Aid thing.

  2. Eric's Trip - Eyes Shut: Moncton's Best Band Ever were short on the details but their sound is authentic enough that you can still hear it if you stand on the right part of Magnetic Hill at night and you're drunk enough to see things in double.

  3. Turbonegro - Denim Demon: Who says that homoerotic imagery and hardcore punk guitar won't go to the same dance arm in arm? Norwegian death-punk band Turbonegro wear sailor caps for a reason. Who knows? Maybe you could be their next cabin boy when the ship goes down.

  4. Iggy Pop & the Stooges - Search and Destroy: The opening riff is so cruel and beautiful that it reminds me of a wicked stepmother, frumpy and old but armed with a violent right hook.

  5. And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - Heart in the Hand of the Matter: No need to explain...witness the first lyrics: "Ride the apocalypse / Coming through the city side / fallen angel / there is no need to hide." Excellent guitar work and great vocal gymnastics, despite the singer's relatively humble range.

  6. TV On the Radio - Satellite: Check out the trippy atmospheric effect used on the guitar (phaser?) when it cuts through the drone of the keyboards. These Brooklyn boys will go places, if there is any justice at all in this One-size-fits-all, cookie cutter world.

  7. The Unicorns - Jellybones: I wore this one out, personally, but only after close to a thousand listens while high on jelly beans. Jangly and awkward, like all of us back in Grade 7. Too bad they broke up as a band because their sound makes the Fiery Furnaces seem quaint and classical.

  8. Wolf Parade - Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts: If David Bowie was born in 1976, he would probably sound a lot like Dan Boeckner, lead singer of Wolf Parade. They have a miraculous live show and this cut off their self-titled EP still gets the hair on my back to stand up like a Liberal MP in the House of Commons.

  9. The Arcade Fire - Neighborhood #2 (Laika): Harmonics ring out, accordion saunters in and schmoozes the drums sitting at the bar. Win sings in that wavering, perfect way (which critics obsess over and often compare to David Byrne) about his brother Alexander. The AF love to write a narrative in their lyrics and that is why I would follow them to the ends of the flat earth.

  10. The Shins - New Slang: Sub Pop still knows how to pick 'em. The Shins mine that volcanic rock for ferrous metals and walk out of the shaft with gold dust in their hair every time. Great song to burn a spliff to while sitting on your front porch with some close friends.

  11. Elliott Smith - St. Ide's Heaven: This lost soul with a knife in his heart left us with some great music and St. Ide's Heaven has a breathtaking chorus, complete with the inevitable drug reference and poetic imagery. Warning: Do not listen to Smith if you are A) a tragic, sentimental romantic B) a suicidal artist with a history of self-destruction.

  12. Bright Eyes - Lua: Conor Oberst may have been panned by the critics on his last acoustic album but this song cannot be defeated by the pen, nor by the sword. Oberst makes it OK to be drunk in the middle of the day when regular folks are being healthy and happy in their hamster-wheel existences.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

"New Slang" by JB

Music can have piercing beauty
Truly-made songs urge me
to pop my own ballon
and let the air whooosh out
from my lungs one last time

Of course, I won't.
That would mean no new songs
I hear tunes everywhere
~in the footfalls on a long hallway
~in the whirring spin of a ceiling fan
~in the heavy breath of my lover
~in the hum of an engine
Can You listen?
Will You?
The best songs
are pure blackmail
They take your heart hostage
and the best hearts write songs.

I wrote that poem when I had the Shins song "New Slang" trapped in my head, sailing round and round like some sort of sloop on the waves of my own awareness. My words pale in comparison to the greatness of this song. Here are the lyrics, republished so that you can understand where I was coming from. Download the song somewhere or buy the CD if you're blinging. Also, you can visit their website to see the video for free.

"New Slang"

Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, i don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and i'm lonely.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

God speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.

I'm looking in on the good life i might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am i too dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well i'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

Saturday, May 14, 2005

"I've Learned" by JB

that God exists but he's a stand-up comedian
He tapped the mic and said
"Is this thing on?"
And told a number of jokes
infinite sick twisted little riddles
He made us all bland billiard balls
just bouncing off each other
and making noises

God has a cruel sense of humour
He laughs at the babies
born with AIDS because
of the diseases he planted in the earth
And civilian casualties
(especially genocides) make Him
Crack Up

We do have optimism
and hope
and dreams of kinetic energy
moving us on High
or protecting us from each other
Can secular save our souls?
Do we need an independent
observer giggling in the crowd?

I can't forget to mention
that I have learned
to love it all
I must reap
the seeds I drop
and I must forgive
me for being

I fear
stormtrooper silhouettes
tainted food
and true love

I long for lounging with She
but I'm strapped to a bench
and electrodes are crazy-glued
to my hairless temples
My skin is white
Nails down to their roots
Foolish stubble on my chin
I have a sick grin on my face
It's like I'm God
but I'm not laughing

I'll venture on alone
The piano will lilt
me to happy
caverns of thought
I am sorry
that I left you all
in the deep end
I can't pummel mountains

Love leaps through all time
at once
You never left a lover
we're all still together

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

J-School Devours Our Proud Narrator and Chews Him Into Paste

May 10, 2005

ID: *******
Jeremy Brendan
**** Monkland
Montreal, Quebec
H** 1**

Dear Jeremy,

I am writing to advise you that due to your unsatisfactory performance in your Journalism courses this year you will not be permitted to register for any further courses in this department.

If you wish to continue in Journalism Studies, you will have to re-apply for admission for the 2006-2007 academic year.

Enn Raudsepp, PhD
Journalism Department
Concordia University

c.c. Roberto Chen-Rangel, Academic Counsellor


Dear Mr. Raudsepp,

Thank you for the prompt correspondence. I wonder if you could pass J-School while being homeless? It would be very interesting to see but I'm sure you'd give it the old college try.

I will take a year of History in the Fall, and if possible, I will re-apply for admission in 2006-2007 (if your department is willing to give me a second chance).

Cheers & Have a Great Summer.
Jeremy Brendan

"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
-Hunter S. Thompson

Sunday, May 08, 2005

"Dancer's Lament" by JB & Kirk

This poem is a collaborative effort, the other scribe being my mystic philosopher of a pal Kirk. I wanted it to zig and zag -- please let me know what you think of it.


I haven't read Carlos
but I'm willing to dance and spin
The Whirl of a worthy world
That yet beckons once again
As She's clothed in the finest silk
Her rings are sparkles under so many suns
That my shadow-casting time-piece
Is a hurricane of light
My eyes blink on command
and I wonder whether predators pray?
Only that the acid-less rain will
Fall on the umbrella-less
My soul is waiting for a bus
and my heart is short 50 cents for cab fare
Funny 'cause I gots dollahs worth of two-cents
Mind-funk girth-less solicitudes to spare
When The End is ready to fuck
I will let her mount me and take what she needs
As Her eyes are lasers tearing me to pieces hard to read
And very puzzling to see her put me back to place
My affection for this realm is boundless
Bless you all with UnGod's truth
My hat is off and it's lying beside my boots
I'll sleep for dreams of forever.


Tuesday, May 03, 2005

"Claws" by JB

So she's got claws
and they're out, apparently
I had no idea
My back hasn't been scratched
in ages

Sometimes a smile
is all you need to convince
the general public
that you're a normal person
while shopping

I planted the rose
The Vodka is in my closet
It will be emptied
sooner or later (sooner)
When the next cat comes to sleep

Thursday, April 28, 2005

"Yelp" by JB

I'm awash in all sorts of advice
from everyone who owns a tongue
They mean well
& don't realize that my pen leaked in my pocket
My cords are ruined forever
The fabric of my song
is so wrong
I slip slip slip
into a lazy sleep
Obscurity killed this cat
Too much sloth, not enough cheetah
No posts, no Holy Ghosts
nothing to save me from me
The barricade is tall
and well-equipped
We have lanterns in here
and enough food to last for weeks
A pile of newspapers is smoldering
in the tepid air of midday
Journalism is all ashes now
and fading fainting stuttering speeches
that once meant something
I'd rather chew buttons
than go down on one knee
to court the favour of the King

My heart feels ancient
as if I stole it from St-Joseph's
Distracted the guard
Just reached into the case and
pulled out that gamey thing
to replace mine (it's fucked)
I can feel the lost hours
and painted walls of paranoid splendour
Manic movements of a misunderstood fucker
Wants to be a saint
but he can't stop sinning
it's in his dirty warm blood

I saw Hollywood today at my bank.
He was withdrawing some hard-earned cash
Months ago, I had my guitar on my shoulder
Hollywood called to me in his pleasant drawl
Hey, Banjoman!
Gimme some coin or I'll pimp your azz on tha street!
I had nothing to give him.

Understanding why we live
is more than living
Loving everyone
is more than being loved

I wish I could sing you all to sleep
and it would be nice
to get a card or two this holiday season

For now, I'll linger with
Kurt and Elliott and Layne
or at least the minstrel-mish-mash
they left me with
and I'll keep my chin up
high high high
My eyes will sink
like flotsam
or is it jetsam?
I'll make pretty foam pictures

I've been accused of being
-a bad influence
-completely depraved
Can you guess which I prefer?

This random nonsense
is worth more than a glance
It's not Ginsberg
but it's not CSI Miami either.
I have to yelp
before I can howl

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Bright Eyes - "You Will. You? Will. You? Will."

You say that I treat you / like a book on a shelf
I don't take you out that often / because I know that I completed you
and that's why you are here / That's the reason why you stay here
How awful that must feel

You said you would be my dream / I could have you every night
and if, by morning, I'd forgotten you / well, no big deal, it would be alright

you're the reoccurring kind / You're the reoccurring kind
You never will leave my mind

Are you the love of my lifetime? / Because there have been times I've had my doubts. We were just kids when I first kissed you / in the attic of my parents house
and I wish we were there now / I took so long to figure out
What this book has been about

Now I write when I'm away / letters that you'll never read
You said go explore those other women / the geography of their bodies
but there's just one map you'll need / You're a boomerang you'll see
You will return to me

You will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.

Because if you don't, then this book is all lies
If you don't, then my plans would all be ruined
If you don't, I'll start drinking like the way I drank before
And I just wont have a future anymore.

Are we boomerangs? I truly hope so.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

"Ends" by JB

Have you ever seen a screen through liquid lenses
as you dissolve like alka-seltzer in a cup?
I've been there so you don't have to.
I'm exploring the vile empty

Most of the folks I know are lost
or wicked.
Some are friendly, drunken elves
that inhabit sunny barroom clearings.
Others are too broken to be repaired.
I would cut my arms if it made them whole
but my blade is dull and boring.
I've never seen the East.
I don't come with a lovely carrying case
or a gift certificate.
I'm so open
that I can't be closed
and that is seen as a weakness.
I'm the man of the future.
My sobs are defiant
and I'm proud to be a fucking sad drunk.

I've been dreaming bitter, tasteless things lately
Being high in front of my parents.
Hating the fruit on my branches.
Apples with worms hiding in there.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Live Rock Show! The Impalers, The Dissonants, Rance Mulnix, Bedbox, A Still Life Depiction of Momentum, Seven Swans: of Silver City, Barfly, $3.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Turbonegro Coming As Quickly As Possible

Turbonegro, Norway's fabulous deathpunk funboys, are back on the road spreading their mischief (and most probably their buttcheeks, sailor!). They are not to be missed. Europeans beware! The tour coincides with a CD launch for their upcoming album "Party Animals" on May 9th.


23-Apr Germany, Hamburg, Grosse Freiheit
10-May Sweden, Stockholm, Nalen
12-May Germany, Berlin, Huxleys
13-May Germany, Leipzig, Haus Aunsee
14-May Germany, Muenster, Joevel
15-May Germany, Wiesbaden, Schlachthof
16-May Germany, Munich, George Elser Halle
18-May Netherlands, Amsterdam, Paradiso
19-May UK, London, Islington Academy
20-May UK, Leeds, Cockpit
21-May UK, Morcambe, Wasted Festival (http://www.holidaysinthesun.net)
26-May Austria, Vienna ,Aerodrome Festival
27-May Spain, Madrid, Festimad Festival
28-May Portugal, Lisaboa, Super bock Festival
30-July Sweden, Östersund, Storsjöyran

Check out a video of Turbonegro playing their hit song "Denim Demon"!
(courtesy of TurbojugendUSA.com)

Saturday, March 26, 2005

America, Land of Bombs & Money

"Easter is the victory of light over darkness. In this season of renewal, we remember that hope leads us closer to truth, and that in the end, even death itself will be defeated. That is the promise of Easter morning."
U.S. President George W. Bush, National radio address on Saturday, March 26th. (CNN)

Yes, Pres. Bush. Death will be defeated by praying to Jesus. Perhaps the thousands of marines in Iraq can say hail marys as their unarmoured humvees get shot at by stray AK-47 and RPG fire.

When 16-year old Jeff Weise decided to shoot up his school, he was taking the path of violence and destruction that most of us would abhor. He should have joined the U.S. Army. That way, he could have killed as many "insurgents" as he wanted without risking a murder charge.

"A senior (U.S.) Army legal official acknowledged that the Iraqi colonel had at one point been lifted to his feet by a baton held to his throat, and that that action had caused a throat injury that contributed to his death.

The Army accounting said the Special Forces Command had determined that the use of force had been lawful 'in response to repeated aggression and misconduct by the detainee.'

Despite recommendations by Army investigators, commanders have decided not to prosecute 17 American soldiers implicated in the deaths of three prisoners in Iraq and Afghanistan in 2003 and 2004, according to a new accounting released Friday by the Army."

"Pentagon Will Not Try 17 GI's Implicated in Prisoners' Deaths" (NYT)

Killing is wrong any way you look at it. When you're the most powerful nation on the earth, you have a moral duty to limit the spread of violence and the distribution of arms.

Instead, America is the biggest purveyor of weapons on the globe. Just days ago, they announced the sale of F-16 multi-purpose jet fighters to Pakistan, no doubt due to Pakistan's half-hearted attempts at catching Bin Laden, America's Emmanuel Goldstein. Never mind the fact that India has protested that this will only escalate tensions in the region.

If there is a point to all of this, America's establishment will recoil in horror when one of its own sons decides to pick up a rifle and begin killing his classmates, but they think it's just fine to spread violence elsewhere in the world by selling kill-machines and bombs to other nations. Don't they see the relation between having weapons and using them?

U.S., do us all a favour. Sign on to Kyoto, sign the Landmines ban, join the International Criminal Court, and stop thinking that you're some sort of empire. Your downhill slide is already apparent to many independent observers, anyhow. While you're at it, start teaching Mandarin or Japanese in your classrooms. They'll own you before the century is through.

Oh, and Happy Easter!

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Hacking Up a Lung & Dissonants Gig

I've been busy as of late trying to retrieve the wreckage of Concordia Flight 2005 from the crash scene of my school year. I fucked around a lot and now I'm mathematically doubtful of passing several of my courses. It would be nice to be a part of the religious herd at this point so that I would have somebody to pray to. Being an agnostic, I've been secretly praying to Enn Rautsepp, the director (?) of Concordia's Journalism program.

Today, I have to go and cover some exposition on chocolate at McGill University. It begins in 43 minutes and my bacon isn't done frying on the stove. I predict that I will arrive late, start scribbling down any notes I can, and then dart towards the free samples of chocolate. I'm salivating just thinking of ripping through a sweet little piece of cocoa extract right now.

Later this week, I have some copy stories due for Radio class (deadline: Friday night) and a myriad pile of other work that has accumulated in the past few months. Rautsepp preserve me!


In other news, the Dissonants will be playing a gig at Reggie's Pub tomorrow (Thursday night). They want to punk you into a frenzy. Doors open at 7 PM, cover is a paltry $2, and there will be four terrific bands to stroke your musical muscles. Come one, come all!
Thu - 03.24 Launie Anderssohn, The Dissonants, The Rothschilds, Coriander @ Reggie's Pub ($2) (7pm), 1455 De Maisonneuve (in Concordia's Hall Building!).

Friday, March 18, 2005

"Wilding" by JB

I think that I've progressed, comparing this text to "All of You". I dropped the forced rhyming and just went with my gut.

This is the most important instant of my life.
I am completely aware
of the dangers inherent in uttering such a thing
You could crush me like a beetle
My legs would twitch on
but I'd be dead, nonetheless

I'm holding out my hand
it's yours for the taking
If you lock me outside
I will have to curl up in a snowbank
I'm a vagabond even if I have a home.
I still piss in alleyways and eat table scraps

Give me what you can
I'll wait until there is peace in Israel
Like patient waves that reach for mountains
but only make it as far as the beach
My love has no expiry date
It will age like red wine

Ironically enough, I am indeed twitching but I'm hoping I'll get scooped off the street before any more sedans pass over me. I'm not broken. Lather, rinse, repeat. I'm not broken.

"All of You" by JB

Wrote this one a while back but never bothered to do anything with it. Poetry means something to me again because it's all I have left. I can't sleep, I barely eat; even alcohol has lost its woozy charm. I need to rely on words to get me through this turbulence, these nightmares I dream while I'm awake. Point is, this poem once inspired me to keep going way back when, so now I wanted to share it with you all.

I'd appreciate some criticism or commentary. It's a tad bit rough, so go easy on me, eh? Might even work as lyrics, I guess. [Ed. Note: Stick to something you're good at, like sleeping, or fooling people into thinking that you're some sort of bewildered idiot-savant. You're an actor, a stumbling, self-obsessed little fuck who thinks that because he has access to a keyboard and a couple of 4-dollar words, all of the sudden he's some sort of poet. Jeremy Brendan, you've always been a fraud & now your inflicting all of this miserable prose on the world. Shame. Shaaaame.]

"All of You"
I am alive for
this minute
for art and the
worlds in it
for love and the
for friends and readers of
English Lit
for truth and arguing with
the cynics
for people who like
being misfits
for the unknown hero lying to
be tragic
for the causality that is based
on magic

I love humanity
& vanity
in small doses
for lovers who twist
like red roses
for brown hair
and delicate poses
for winter
and red noses
I am alive and I thrive
because what's in me
is all of you

Don't listen to my editor. He's just hateful because I always get the last word.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

First Annual "Spot JB Drunk" Contest

I am about to go and pawn some of my personal effects to fund the first annual "Spot JB Drunk" Contest. Yes, I am going out to drink like my liver is made of titanium, folks. It's 3:18 PM so the day is young.

The contest has two parts:
  • Spot JB:
  • Participants must track down Jeremy Brendan and taunt him/buy him drinks/explain to him the mysteries of life and why it seems that women are puzzles made of broken glass, beautiful but capable of inflicting such intense pain.
  • Stamina:
  • Once they have found JB, participants must go drink for drink with JB until somebody either passes out or gets sick. At that point, the contest is over and we all begin the hunt for drugs.

Everyone is welcome to attend! Bring your fat, swollen wallets and a sense of humour, because JB doesn't have either of those today. [Ed. Note: To give you all a hint, JB's usual haunts are Cock 'n Bull Pub, Brutopia, and Reggie's, although there is a strike at Concordia today so Reggie's is not a potential hangout.]

What contest would be complete without a prize? If you spot JB, you win at least one anecdote relating Hindu mythology with a musical instrument or maybe a corny joke. Also, JB can help you find whatever you need, ie. opium, ether, etc. If you can keep up with JB's drinking, you win his gratitude and the unadulterated respect of your peers (the drunken gang at whichever bar you happen to be at).

Looking forward to seeing you all out there! Cheers and vive la peine, l'amour est mort!

Monday, February 21, 2005

The Hunter Has Left the Building

[Ed. Note: Hunter S. Thompson died last night of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Jeremy wrote the following last night but I was only able to post it today. His real-life alter-ego is trying to get it published in the Montreal Mirror but we can't guarantee they'll accept it. En attendant, here it is, unedited.]

It's getting damn close to 4 AM but I can't sleep right now. What I wouldn't do for a drug tonight, anything to get my mind out of this soul-sucking space. I can't believe that another one of my heroes has died; Doctor Gonzo is no more.

Hunter S. Thompson was once a writer, before he became a lab rat and singed his neurons into charcoal. Thompson was a barbarian in his early days, clanging his pen against the gates of the publishing world, trying to prove that electrified prose and quick wit could triumph over accuracy. The 50's was mostly a wasteland until he rolled up on his motorcycle, drugs in one hand and a gun in the other.

Thompson used a novelist's eye to get to the epicentre of the story, sometimes lying to get his point across. Many credit him with ushering in the style known as "New Journalism", a school now relegated to trashy mags like Vice or the occasional college rag. His detractors painted him as a fraud--nothing more than a celebrity-cum-writer who milked his reputation for all it was worth--to them, he was more a drugged-out gun nut than a literary figure.

Hunter was all of these things. More importantly, he set the journalists free. Why else would I be compelled to write that my hemorrhoids are really burning right now? His death makes my soul burn more than any pile ever could.

Often going by the pseudonym "Raoul Duke", Thompson showed the American Press that their "inverted pyramid" technique was just as boring as the missionary position they would employ on their wives once a week.

Thompson proved that colour and flair (along with a keen sense of what is right) can compensate for gaps in the narrative; ultimately, the truth will emerge even if it is submerged beneath a sea of falsity.

Hunter never did wipe out the "Pyramid crowd"; those dinosaurs will still walk the earth when we're all just bones and plastic beer cups. I don't know if we'll ever be rid of the type of people who work for Fox News.

It must be said that Thompson never did a journalism class. Hell, he probably would have choked on the endless fluff pieces that I and my fellow scribes are forced to ejaculate for our loveless Concordia professors. Hunter's whole career was based on a sham, after he convinced the U.S. Air Force that he was qualified to write, edit, and produce a newspaper.

Hunter was an exception.

Now, I'm left here with all these Rules and no Buzz with the walls closing in like lobster claws. Where is Wendy, my one and only, when I need her? Has the world gone mad?

Maybe the Canadian Air Force is hiring?

Thursday, February 17, 2005

The Dissonants & The Casingles, Reggie's Pub, Fri. Feb. 18th, 9 PM, $5

As listed in the Montreal Mirror, don't miss the Dissonants & the Casingles show tomorrow night @ Reggie's Pub. (Friday, Feb. 18th @ 9 PM!) It will be bedlam, I tell you.

Note: This is not the real logo from Reggie's Pub but a visual aid was needed, so use your imagination.

The Dissonants have a prolific set planned to ease you into the "Reading Week" Holiday Spirit. The D's plan to play a handful of originals and some inspired covers (ie. Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade, Turbonegro). Their sound is hard to pigeonhole but probably lies somewhere between Dinosaur Jr. and Old-School punk. [Ed. Note: More like the unholy bastard child of Alexisonfire and Counting Crows! Despite this, I assure you that they will rock your casbah.]

After the Dissonants, headliners the Casingles will bring some of that voodoo garage punk that you all know and love. After the hysteria-inducing set they played a couple of Sundays ago at Cafe Chaos (accompanied by Manic Manon and the surprisingly excellent psychobilly band Flesh), expect them to put on a hell of a show tomorrow night.

[Ed. Note: Shaking Judy could not make it to the show because they were abducted by Space Raelians. Our hearts and prayers are going out to them (to Shaking Judy, not to the Raelians!)]

I am not usually one to agree with hacks like the New York Times but Montreal's burgeoning rock scene is home to a lot of impressive acts (ie. Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade, Launnie Andersohn, The Stills, The Unicorns, The Dears, etc.). Support your local scene!

The Dissonants, The Casingles, 9pm, $5
Feb 18, Reggie's Pub, Concordia U, 1455 de Maisonneuve W.
For more info: 848-7423 or 242-9840

Friday, February 11, 2005

The Ayatollah's Edicts & Whether Holding Hands is Permissible

I was reading an interesting article by Patrick Cockburn on Counterpunch Magazine (""Sistani's Vision for Iraq") and it lead me to Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani's Official site.

Ayatollah al-Sistani is one of the key figures Iraq's Shi'ite community, a group that represents over 60 percent of the Iraqi population. In the January 30 election, the United Iraqi Alliance is claiming to have won a majority of the seats in Iraq's National Assembly. According to the Economist, the UIA "claims Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani as its chief mentor."

A recount is underway in Iraq but if the preliminary results hold to be true, will the UIA (which some have described as fundamentalist) turn Iraq into another Iran? Ayatollah al-Sistani has not expressed an interest in running for public office, but will the UIA decide to bring in Sharia law or something similar?

Will America's attempt to inject democracy serum into an Iraq, bound by the chains of occupation, turn it into another fundamentalist Arab regime indifferent to American demands? [Ed. Note: JB, can you make these sentences any longer? This is amateurish bullshit. Get to the point.]

I decided to do a little digging and on al-Sistani's website, I found some startling revelations. Thanks to his very comprehensive FAQ page, here are the Grand Ayatollah's views on:

"Question:Is suicide permissible in Islam?

Answer:It is not permissible.

Question:What does the Qur’an say about suicide?

Answer:Islam does not allow it in every circumstance."

Oral Sex
"Question:Is oral sex by husband or wife allowed?

Answer:It is permissible provided no liquid out swallowed."

Checking Out Some Guy
"Question:Which part of strange man’s body is it allowed for a woman to look at? Is it allowed to look at his breast? On the tv in the western countries its very oft, that the men show their bodies till the belly ?

Answer:Looking of a woman at a stranger’s (ajnabi) body is forbidden, if it is with lust and fear of falling in sin. It is not even permissible to look without that (lust and fear) also as a measure of obligatory precaution except for the parts of body which normally a man does not cover i.e. head, hand and ankles which a woman can look at if it is without lust and without fear of falling in sin."

"Question:If my wife wants me to masturbate in front of her, is it then allowed?

Answer:You are not allowed to do it with hand, but your wife is."

"Question:I wanted to know about friendship norms in islam about females ?

Answer:Friendship with her is not permissible. Because in such friendship man is not immune from sin."

Backdoor Action
"Question: Is anal intercourse permissible.?

Answer:Permission is bound to wife’s agreement, but it is strongly undesirable."

"Question:Is having an orgy permissible under the Qur’an?

Answer:It's forbidden."

Or Just Getting Acquainted
"Question:Are shaking of hands with girls allowed?

Answer:It is not permissible."

After reading al-Sistani's site, I've realized that I take a lot of my freedoms for granted.

I didn't quote his ultra-religious edicts to mock him in any way--I am equally disdainful of all religions--it's just that a party that sees him as its spiritual guide could very well win the Iraqi election and write a constitution that will absorb edicts like these.

Saddam was definately a brutal tyrant but he was still more of a secular leader than a religious one, mainly because his Sunni-led regime used secular policies to minimize the power of Shi'ite religious leaders. Now that the Shi'ites will be running the show in Iraqi, can they be relied upon to protect the rights of women? What about those of minorities like the Kurds, the Turkmen, or the Sunnis?

My heart of hearts hopes that there will be an end to the fighting between Iraqi versus Iraqi and the occupation will end by Bush's strained National Guardsmen and tired Marines. Then, you can bring the boys home, Mr. Bush. [Ed. Note: Tell them not to buy their tickets just yet. There's 20 or 30 thousand Iraqis running around with heavy weaponry looted from Saddam's weapons depots. JB, you are one deluded informer! The occupation will end the year we have a female President.B]

Oh, and just in case you were wondering:

"Question:I have a cat, and I heard that I couldn’t pray in clothing that have cat's hair. Is this true?

Answer: It does not make the prayer void.

Question:Praying in a condition that you have a leather wallet (bought from un Islamic country & unaware of the nature of leather) in your pocket is acceptable or not?

Answer:That is permissible and there is no objection in it."

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Bush's 2006 Budget; "Just When You Thought Things Couldn't Get Any Worse!"

The Bush administration released their FY 2006 budget proposal on February 7th and I think that it truly proves that he is a compassionate conservative. The only downside is that his compassionate nature only extends to wealthy industrialists and other shady characters, the ones with the keys to the war machine.

Bush's sordid gang of looters are planning to invest the retirement savings of American workers into the stock market. As Lyndon Larouche pointed out, this economic plan was already tried out in Chile with disastrous effects for their population. Of course, this was under the Pinochet Regime and was pushed through at gunpoint; hopefully, the American public will have the good sense to rise up and demand that their representatives throw this idea out before it bankrupts their future.

While Bush seeks to reduce federal expenditures, he has no real means of doing so without cutting his bloated military budget. The War on Terror don't come cheap, eh Mr. Bush? Since 2001, the Bush Administration has raised "overall Defense spending by 41 percent." It is disheartening to see so much money available for bombs and unmanned attack vehicles but less to provide for health care or education.

The Bush budget has a couple of other doozies that stand out like erections on a crowded subway car. For example, Bush has slated "$100 million to fund competitive grants for States to develop innovative approaches to promote healthy marriages." Healthy marriages? Are they going to pay for Viagra or perhaps give each American married couple a free night at some swanky hotel? My instincts tell me no, that this is just a polite way of saying "if you can stop those queers from getting hitched, we'll toss you some coins!" Past experiences tell me that the term "healthy marriage" can't be bought with currency; it must be fought for, tooth and nail, by two loving partners, whether they be straight, gay, or just plain crazy.

U.S. federal spending on education should amount to $56 billion USD, a decrease of 1 percent compared to the FY 2005 budget. The Environmental Protection Agency will also feel the pain next year; their 2006 funding will decrease by 6 percent to $7.6 billion. Even with reductions in these departments, the U.S. will still have a $390 billion dollar deficit to contend with, and projected annual deficits of at least $200 billion or more over the next four years.

Bush is definately concerned about young people who fuck without getting married first. The proposed budget will "(provide) more than $206 million for abstinence-only activities this year." Paradoxically, these sort of "activities" haven't really worked in the past, as teen pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases show no sign of disappearing across America. Neo-puritanism will never solve the issues of our time, no matter what the Religious Right's televangelists are preaching.

If there is a silver lining, it is for the Richie Rich jet-set club. The wealthiest Americans will enjoy the fruits of their lobbying and connections; they will save about $1 trillion USD over the next decade, money that could have gone to rebuild America's tumbling infrastructure or to uplift the needy. This will also exacerbate the ballooning national debt (an eye-popping $8.6 trillion USD, which is projected to rise to $11 trillion by 2010!).

Budgets like this one prove that when you put a blind man behind the wheel, you are sure to run into oncoming traffic. Fifty years from now, Americans will spit whenever somebody mentions the name George W. Bush. He makes "Tricky Dick" Nixon look like Ghandi. George Dubya's "faith-based" leadership is just that; he believes that his disjointed economic policies will work despite all other evidence to the contrary. If America is to climb out of this hole, they had better start praying.

[Ed. Note: This budget hadn't yet been approved by Congress as of press time. Also, most Democrats and a few key Republicans oppose many of the cuts in the slated budget. It will be interesting to see whether Congress gives Bush their seal of approval.]

Thursday, January 27, 2005

The Arcade Burns For You, America

The Arcade Fire are on tour in the oppressed police state south of chilly Canada. If Bush has got you down, at least you can enjoy some great music and drink that weak putrid beer, America! [Ed. Note: What are you on? Keep writing posts like this and you'll be selling pencils in front of Alexis-Nihon Mall in no time. JB, give me a call.]


01.27 * Asheville, NC @ The Orange Peel
01.28 * Carrboro, NC @ Cat's Cradle
01.30 * Washington, DC, @ 9:30 Club
01.31 * Philadelphia, PA @ Theatre of Living Arts
02.01 * New York, NY @ Webster Hall
02.02 * New York, NY @ Irving Plaza
02.03 * Boston, MA @ Roxy

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

"2nd Ave." by JB

The moon is a half dream and I forgot
how to prove my own existence
I'm a pariah, parallel with the beams
that drip down from that white crescent
My friends are asleep
They're smiling
and graced with the Karmic bliss
of empty days
I wouldn't trade them
for a treasure chest or a leather chair


Gerald sips his water and wishes
that it was beer
His eyes are still bold
and his shoulders are high
He may have lost his voice
but only from singing
He is very sad
because he knows what life is
He has given us more
than he has taken


Chris is a punk through and through
He is a stargazing rock and roll hero
We are waiting for him to make good
The Colombian lady is his temptress
and he might pawn his game for gold
but he doesn't steal
and his future is unravelling
into a sea of mermaids
and sandy beaches
He may return to B.C.


Clem is an old friend
His heart was born lately
It is always ready to seize control
and veer him wildly askew
like Ski-doo tracks between the trees
He means well
and watches out for his friends
If his Id has vanquished his Ego
so be it
as long as Clem remembers
how far he can leap!


Mike is a bulldog
He'll guard his kin to the death
and he barks at trespassers
His eyes are big, bright remembering things
(blue beads that watch the fall)
For him, Blue Six-point-one is never far
and I think he'll keep on running
until he finds a place to rest
and a lady to love


Destiny is scratching at our door
I can hear its little claw paws
Let us feed it and find a way
to hold our souls up to the light
without seeing any wavy lines
or broken glass
We'll keep each other clean
and praise the shambles dawn

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

"7 Thoughts" by JB

I live to linger in the late hours
clutching my talisman to my breast
(the bottle that is always full to me)
The anthracite evenin' is my armour.


Of late, the most curious thing has happened
(I dare not call it by name
because that is the surest way for it to disappear)
Roots take time to catch hold of the loamy soil.


She is pure and sad and beautiful
and many other things
I want to soothe her ailments
and hold her coat.


There was a man with a heavy pack
The straps dug down deep into his shoulders
He carried his life inside of it
When he put it down, he was free for a time.


We should dance wild in Loyola hallways
and kiss like our lips are made of oxygen
Come and inhabit my bed for a week
I can cook great fluffy crepes.


Some things creep up on us like vagrant waves
Completely random, like phantom gusts of East Wind
Personally, I don't resist the weather
I move right through the atoms like a renegade electron.


Be forewarned, my hands are thin typist-things
and I am a sporadic fuck-up, but I mean well...
The inside of your mind must be a carnival of dreams
I want to spend the day with you.