Starting January 5th, every foreign visitor entering the United States by plane or boat will be fingerprinted and photographed, then checked against a national biometrics database of "known terrorists".

Instead of beginning a nonsensical rant about how the Americans are going too far, I'll try and keep my cool by reaching for a book that impacted me at a very young age.

This book is called "1984" and within its pages, George Orwell predicted these "times of terror". The methods used by Oceania resemble those of today's U.S.--monitor your citizens (PATRIOT ACT), keep them afraid of the "enemy" (War on Terror, etc.), remain in a constant state of war (Afghanistan, Iraq...), and have a human avatar of the enemy who is both to blame for all the current problems, and also at large (Bin Laden, Saddam Hussein). That way, you can neglect their domestic problems. Unemployment? Massive deficits? Tax cuts for the top 5% of the population? No problem. Any dissenters can be shut up with rhetoric (You just don't want to keep this country safe!) or with dogma (We're the most powerful nation in the world. Why shouldn't we unilaterally remove a potential threat?). They even use word games to foil us (You're either with us or with the terrorists), making neutrality both impossible and quite dangerous.

Perhaps I am being too rash or even paranoid. I understand that terrorists aren't rational and there is virtually no way to stop them from doing their horrible acts of violence. The funny thing is, how will America ever stop the terrorists by being harder? Being tough might work on the schoolyard but in the real world, it is better to temper your actions with gifts and praise, concilliation and respect, rather than M-16s and land mines. The U.S. has forgotten that in order to win the hearts and minds of the globe, they have to at least take us out once in awhile, or maybe send us a birthday card or pull out their troops out of our borders.

It is easy to chop the tallest tree in the forest. By that, I mean that I'm only being hard on the U.S. because they claim to be the Leaders of the Free World, we expect them to live up to their own hype and self-promotion. It seems that now, they're saying "Give me your tired and your poor, so I can scan their retinas and see if they're related to that Bin Laden character".

I wonder if Timothy McVeigh used a seaport or airport when he emigrated to the U.S. Wait, you mean he only had to cross state lines to blow up hundreds of people? He was born in the USA, just like Bruce Springsteen? Really! I thought that terrorists only come from Saudi Arabia, or maybe Sudan if you want to get picky. Wow. Who knew?

Not to increase the amperage of the buzz that Turbonegro have been generating, but I've decided that they're the closest thing to RockNRoll I've heard in a dolphin's lifetime. Sure, some of their stuff borders on self-parody (calling themselves the "Apocalypse Dudes" and bragging in their lyrics "don't bother to call / 'cause we're in the news"), but they have such a fanatic rhythm section, a devoted singer with an oh-so-obvious drug problem, and some catchy, hooky tunes that have been labelled "deathpunk" by the press.

Their primary schtick appears to be their constant references to homosexuality. As the story goes, they were tired of the homogenous punk scene in Norway, so on their third album, they turned their amps up a little higher and began to Cock-Rock like they meant it. Literally. Attempting to get back to the core of punk rock, they began to pose as some sort of vaguely homosexual deviants, with song titles such as "Sailor Man" and "Denim Demon". (Lyrics excerpt: "I've got a congregation / and I am a saint for seamen")

One of their best tunes, "Back to Dungaree High", was covered by Queens of the Stone Age on the 2001 Turbonegro tribute album, with most effective results. Other artists including Hot Water Music, the Dwarves, Therapy?, and Nashville Pussy also appeared on the tribute album. Just eyeing the talent that was willing to praise Turbonegro proves that they have been influential in the global punk scene. I recommend sauntering over to your favourite file sharing program & downloading their back catalogue. If they really turn your crank, head on over to an independant record store and buy "Ass Cobra" or one of their other releases. Support music you like! That's what I always say.

Somehow, punk rock is about bringing together scenes that are on the fringe, without barriers or prejudice. That's why the coolest punk bar in the city of Montreal is undoubtedly Sapphir (St-Laurent Blvd., north of Prince Arthur but south of Pine) , where Friday nights are hosted by DJ's Xavier Caffeine & Plastik Patrik, an ambigously gay duo of Rockers with their own bands and a sound knowledge of modern rock and late 70's punk. All walks of life inhabit Sapphir, from straight-up punkers to Rockers to trucker-cap-clad queers. Everyone gets along and grooves to the music. When you're dancing at Sapphir, whether it be in the arms of your girlfriend (last time Kate was there, she danced her little heart out with me and had a great time) or pogoing beside a transvestite who really likes Le Tigre, you know that you're embodying the soul of real Punk Rock Music. Plus, a Molson Ex will set you back $3.50, and one of the bartenders is a pyromaniac. I once witnessed him violate several safety codes by spraying an enormous phallic-shaped candle with lighter fluid and sparking it with a match. Not for the faint of heart, but very entertaining to watch, as long as you don't get too close to the flames.

They play Turbonegro at Sapphir. They also really like the Strokes, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and they're probably the first bar on the island that played Interpol or Hot Hot Heat. (Oddly enough, I harassed Patrik for two months, begging him to play the BC band HHH before he relented. He still isn't big on them but public demand has risen in the past few months!) They also have a deep fondness for all thing Velvet and Underground, Post-Scary Monsters David Bowie, and even the odd Billy Idol track. Peaches, Ladytron, and other electroclash artists also populate the musical scene at Sapphir.

It is always safe to expect a good time at Sapphir and this coming weekend shouldn't be any different.Hallowe'en night, Robin Black & the Intergalactic Rock Stars will be playing a Saturday gig at Sapphir and it should be a blast.($5 cover charge, $1.50 for coat check, no dress code although the Fubu/Crescent Street crowd don't usually venture into Sapphir unchaperoned.)

Speaking of Robin Black & his IRS, their homemade blend of glam and punk is exuberant and lively and somewhat similar to Plastik Patrik's own band, 1-976, of which he is lead singer when he's not spinning at Sapphir. I should also mention that Xavier's band, Poxy, is also gaining critical acclaim here on the island of Montreal, already mentioned in the weekly newspapers (The Hour & the Mirror) and may turn out to be the next big thing in the Quebec rock scene. Check out Sapphir this Saturday, November 1st, any time after 8 PM!

Kill Bill Vol. 1

---

I can't pretend to be a typical action-movie fan. I don't have the pecs for it, nor do I have the patience for plots that revolve around revolvers. (Godfather or Full Metal Jacket excluded!) Somehow, though, "Kill Bill Vol. 1" has got me all worked up in a good way.

It is the latest from everyone's favourite Hollywood kook Quentin Tarrantino. His fetish for making his characters look stylish covered in other peoples blood has sustained him throughout his career. He has done the horror movie (From Dusk Till Dawn), the gangster movie (Reservoir Dogs), and even a couple of love letters to the 70's (Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown). "Kill Bill Vol. 1" is his effort at updating the samurai movie, with its themes of vengeance and betrayal, and with lots of arms and legs being sliced off by fine Okinawan steel.

Speaking purely on the directing, I think that Quentin has made a silk purse out of these sows ears. (He even makes Lucy Liu appear to know how to act!) One surprise is how Uma Thurman makes us feel sympathy for her character by concealing weakness and trying to overcome the obstacles that block her path to revenge. Even when she has a slice taken out of her back from a sword, or a chain around her neck, she never flinches and is always ready to strike back with brutal force. Somehow, action films are more exciting when the boys don't stand a chance and the ladies are kicking ass.

It is difficult to make the same tired subjects look new and bold but Quentin somehow gets the job done, from his two-second shot of Uma's blood painting a stripe across the Tokyo snow, to the frequent dismemberments and beheadings of the anonymous assasins that challenge her on a Tokyo dance floor. Seeing blood shoot out of where someone's limb used to be is not for the faint hearted, but it does make one feel a little bit of fear in the pit of the stomach. All the death creates tension and in "Kill Bill", I think that Quentin is trying to make a Shakespearean Kung Fu flick. The death is necessary to drive the plot so we shall excuse it.

The Wu-Tang Clan's producer The RZA made the score for this film and we get a healthy dose of hipster tunes, from the Japanese garage rock of the 5,6,7,8's to Spanish gunfight music (can somebody tell me what I'm supposed to call it?). I was disappointed that there were no beats, or at least none that I could throw down freestyle rhymes over, but I'm sure that the rest of the moviegoers were happy that my mouth remained shut.

The character of Oren-Ishii (played heroically by Lucy Liu) could have warranted her own movie. Her best scene is probably when she faces the Yakuza and assumes leadership of their criminal organization. When one of them questions her ethnicity (she happens to be a Japanese/Chinese American), there are bloody results. (Hint: ever see a head bounce on a table?)

I'm not saying that this is a Great Film--it is more accurately an appropriation of a genre, Quentin doing a Kung-Fu Epic, as opposed to something that tries to stand on its own--but this movie has teeth and seems willing to use them. It is a strange feeling watching Uma Thurman cleaning the blood off her samurai sword with her sleeve. Even so, "Kill Bill Vol. 1" is just appealing enough to make me want to catch the second film, so that she can finish off that list of hers (Death List #5, scrawled in a banged-up notebook).

Don't bring your kids, though! This is pure ultra-violence, in the style that Alex and his droogs would dream about. And expect a sequel.

Elliot Smith has left this world. Elliot was a widely-acclaimed singer-songwriter in American Indie circles. His love for the lo-fi and the sublime produced some very moving, transcendent acoustic folk that rivals the best of Neil Young or Nick Drake. He was most known for his song "Miss Misery", which appeared in the movie Goodwill Hunting.

Personally, I recognized him from his work for the movie "The Royal Tenenbaums". His song "Needle in the Hay" appears when Luke Wilson's character, the former tennis star who's deeply troubled but lovestruck, is standing in front of the mirror and contemplating suicide. He ends up slitting his wrists with a razorblade and falling to the floor.

On Tuesday, Elliot Smith decided to stick a knife into his own heart in his Los Angeles home. He was 34. Suicide is something that many of us are forced to witness, either first hand or via our family or friends. I can only hope that nobody will take Elliot as an example of what to do. Maybe if he had somebody to talk to, he might not have resorted to such a senseless action. That reminds us to try and keep our friends and family close so that they won't slip away. We can't afford to lose any more of our own.

If you have high speed internet, then please do yourself a favour and stick it to the Man! Skype was created by the Whiz Bang programmers par excellence Sharman Networks (the same folks who brought you Kazaa. It is a voice-over-I.P. application that allows you to place calls to any other Skype users for FREE. They have no subscription fee for the Beta testers (since we're their software-debugging guinea pigs, so to speak!) so pick it up and give me a ring. You need at least a 400 MHZ processor, 128 MB of RAM, and it currently only works in Windows 2000 or XP.

I tried it out today and after reinstalling it and rebooting my system twice, I was able to get the main screen to pop up. After calling several disgruntled New Zealanders, I eventually got somebody to actually answer my call. He was a slightly odd dude from France. My associate, Mr. Shady also spoke to him over the relatively cheap headset (est. $14.99 or so at your local retailer) and agreed that the sound was great. Not unlike FM radio, although I imagine if both clients (you & your girlfriend, for example) had high speed internet and the whole thing properly set up, those phone card companies could very well go out of business.

I'm moving in two weeks and Shady has decided we should tell our landlord. He won't be pleased, especially when he realizes that he has about a months worth of renovations to do. We didn't really tear the place apart but we certainly haven't lifted a finger to maintain it.

Where am I moving to? Chateaugay, a cosy suburb south of the island of Montreal. {I think I left out the little French grammatical hat but it wasn't a political statement. I just don't feel like going through all those ANSI key codes (ALT 130 et al.).} I'll be living at my uncles house and hopefully returning to ConU in the Fall of 2004. I really need to pay off that gang of lepers known as my creditors before they tear off their own arms and fling them at me. I owe upwards of 15 Grand but with my modest pension, I should be able to cut that in half within a year. If you long to see this humble narrator return back to school, and if Bling is your middle name, click that "PayPal" button on the right hand side of your screen. It doesn't have to be much, since everyone knows that it's the thought that counts.

Hallowe'en is not far off and I still haven't decided upon a costume. My previous idea, myself and Shady going to Sapphire wearing t-shirts labelled "Adam" & "Steve", has been rejected by both parties involved. I may just end up going as myself from 4 years ago, dirty combat pants and all. I'll certainly have enough THC in my blood to make a neo-con giggle in front of the media. *Wait...stop...this is the Lit Police. We're going to have to take you in for questioning*
What? I'm just trying to...
*Don't "just" me! You have been charged with poor taste, clunky sentence structure, and lack of originality*
Listen, last night I was lying in my bed and I couldn't sleep. My girl was far away in her New York State and I was awake in the darkness. I was trying to figure out why I had spent the past 5 months smoking myself sloth-like, why I hadn't written a good thing in ages, and why I didn't want to get a job in the real world, at least not just yet.

I realized that for 3 years, I had been flailing my arms in this pool. For 6 months, I was just floating and existing. Now, it is time for me to steel my mind to the task of rebuilding my life and seizing my destiny. I will have a career that can't lock me up in Maximum Security & I will pay taxes. Oh yes, being Canadian and all, I'm ready to pay half my earnings so that everyone can complain to Dr. So and So when they get a cough.

And don't think I won't marry and be happy and eventually own a house. This life can't stop me. Creditors, if you're out there, you'll get yours. Just get in line, highest interest rates first, please.

Today, I finally got up the courage to sift through my Yahoo! inbox & found what every writer (or artist, I suppose) lives and dreams for--no, not a spam email advertising penis enlargement--I got a rejection letter! Here it is, mostly unabridged. Enjoy.
---

Subject: Re: Submission -- "Tale of My Teeth"


Uhhh, yeah, hey Phil, I'm sorry. I think we gotta pass on this one.

Honestly,
it didn't strike me as either odd enough or funny enough. I think the
personalities and backstories of the teeth were well drawn, but they
aren't
enough to carry the story.

Thanks for the submission tho. We look forward to more of your work!

OOK,

MonkeyCompline

Submissions Editor

TenThousandMonkeys.com

---
You might ask yourself why I'm flagellating myself in such a public manner. (After all, it is torture to see your own work being used and abused by a gentleman who calls himself Monkey #2) On a good note, they have already published me once so this means they're not easy. It makes the first clipping seem more important, somehow. I like that.

Hey, this doesn't mean that I have to roll over and become part of the soil. Hemingway used his rejection letters as wallpaper (I remember hearing he had them in the hundreds) and plenty of other luminaries I've read about had to slog through a Thousand Savage "No's" before hitting their stride.

I think that the best solution would be to keep banging my head upon this gate and maybe to smoke a little M-39 cannabis (indoor, slightly dry, mild aftertaste) before I try and submit anything else of substance (no pun intended, I swear).

Does this sound vaguely familiar to any of you?

The housing ministry said in a statement Thursday it was building the new homes "according to the government's policy to promote and develop communities in the __________ and _______ according to their needs and natural growth."

The blanks should really be substituted with "West Bank" and "Gaza Strip", but the way Israel is talking, they're sounding more and more like the fascists of yesteryear. After all, a maniac named Hitler once proclaimed that his German troops had rights to expand their living space in order to thrive:

"[W]without consideration of "traditions" and prejudices, it [Germany] must find the courage to gather our people and their strength for an advance along the road that will lead this people from its present restricted living space to new land and soil, and hence also free it from the danger of vanishing from the earth..."

I know that I'm not really retaining very much impartiality here but it is important to know that this new wall being built through Palestinian lands will only add to the tensions in the troubled region. Plus, by revealing their intentions to encircle Ariel, one of the most successful of the settlements, they are sending a dangerous message to Palestinian moderates--one of defiance, basically meaning "We're not going anywhere". By continually expanding into land that by U.N. agreement is not theirs, Israel is surely becoming the obvious aggressor in this conflict. Every time the IDF knocks down a house or settlers try to blow up a school, they are swelling the ranks of the Palestinian resistance, and this is bad for everyone living in Israel or the surrounding territory.

When these same "resistance fighters" (or "terrorists", in Bush-speak) blow up a café, the whole world cries and everyone condemns this "act of terror". If only we could get the same sympathy for the innocent Palestinian civilians killed as a result of the "targeted killings" of "suspected terrorists". These same "terrorists" have neither due process nor a chance to prove their innocence in a court of law. I don't mean to discount the value of Israeli lives -- violence is reprehensible, no matter which person it is inflicted upon -- but I'm just trying to make sure we consider every life to be equal.

Moments like these make me stop and count my blessings that I was born in Canada, one of the last free countries left in the world.

---

All is not dark and chaotic. Want to laugh a little? Think about it. Everyone is running around proclaiming that the sky is tumbling because the North Koreans have built 2 or 3 nuclear bombs. Nobody is worried about how the U.S. has over 22,000 (thousand!) nukes just sitting there beneath the soil, ready to poke out instantly, like a dogs penis. (Sorry for the imagery but somehow it makes sense. I'm trying to explain my revulsion at Nuclear Weapons in general, and what better way than by causing you to lose your lunch?)

Remember the old adage "Truth is stranger than fiction"? I was just reading about the Senate hearing on Peer to Peer sharing at MTV.com (the article can be found here) and I was mystified by this LL Cool J quote, courtesy of the wordsmiths down at MTV.

LL used a rather bizarre metaphor to render the practice of illegal file-sharing down to its basic element: stealing. "If a contractor builds a building, should people be allowed to move into it for free, just because he's successful?" asked Mr. Cool J, as he was addressed at the hearing. "Should they be able to live in this building for free? That's how I feel when I create an album or when I make a film and it's shooting around the planet for free."

His albums rarely shoot onto my computer, since I've never been much of a fan. LL Cool J may be the most successful rapper ever but he's definately not the Best. Sadly, his attitude is what is keeping the artists of the music industry beneath the heel of the Corporate Machine that feeds off of their life-blood.

Whoa. That was a mouthful. Let me explain. If Kazaa et al. were to become legally sanctioned, competing businesses, just like Radio stations or music stores, people would finally be free to download what they want, pay the artists, and cut out the record company middlemen. Warner and Sony wouldn't be totally out of luck, though. How many artists want to manage, promote, record, and release everything on their own label? Even with Pro Tools, most people prefer the studio for the technology and the expertise that real pros bring to the table. The record industry would have to survive by evolving, instead of trying to force everyone to live in their Pre-Napsterian era and forget that P2P ever existed.

So if Peer to Peer sharing was legitimized instead of being punished, the artists could get paid, the music fans would be happy and no longer law-breakers, and LL Cool J could spend more time trying to remember what it was like to be cutting edge instead of a washed up old rapper with a little "ice" around his neck. (Contrast LL with Chuck D, who said "P2P to me means power to the people," and "I trust the consumer more than I trust the people at the helm of these [record] companies." Even if Public Enemy is a little less mainstream, I'd buy one of their albums over LL Cool J's any day.)

No wonder Canibus called him out. LL is scared to play with the other kids, hiding in his crib, clutching the fame that used to be his, and trying to stop my Adam Green download in the process!

Live: Arcade Fire, Phaser, and Hawksley Workman at Club Soda

I'm still feeling the afterglow from Saturday night and it's thanks to the Montreal Pop Festival, now in its second year. On Saturday, I was among the first in line at the Arcade Fire/Phaser/Hawksley Workman show at Club Soda, on St-Laurent Blvd. and St-Catherine. It was scheduled to start at 9:30 PM sharp but they didn't let us in until close to 10 PM. Grabbing the best seat in the house (top right gallery, beside the speakers, a pebbles throw from the stage), I sat down and wondered what was up with the first band. Even though they looked like an art school field trip being let loose on a room full of instruments, I reserved my judgements for the music. And when the music hit, I knew I was on to something.

The Arcade Fire are from Montreal and have very little music released right now. According to an article I dredged up on Google somehow, they have over 100 songs already written but are trying to raise the funds to record a full length LP and really get a buzz going. It's working. When the lead singer Win Butler began strumming his electric guitar and visibly shaking right on stage, I felt like I was watching Nirvana on Prozac, or maybe a Canadian mock-up of the Flaming Lips. It's important to mention the rest of the band, all 7 (8?) of them. His wife Régine (Chassagne), a little dark haired vixen, was playing the accordion, a bandmate was playing a snare drum, another was just banging drum sticks on the floor, another guy was playing the French Horn, and there was even an Xylophone used in one song. Also, the bandmates switched instruments quite a bit, with at least 2 or 3 different instruments happening in every song.

One thing that must be said about their sound is that it is Big and Layered, like that Wall of Sound we always hear about in trendy music magazines (Phil Spector, etc.). The Arcade Fire is a purveyor of pretty melodies and everyone in the band sings nearly every lyric. The only jarring moment of their set was when Win yelled at the crowd for their apathetic response to this beautiful Rock onslaught. He angrily asked if anyone was awake, or something to that effect. Luckily, he apologized later, attempting to salvage some respect and win back our affections. ("I'm sorry I yelled earlier but doing a live show is so..." and then he looked around for a life preserver. I shouted "Intense!" and he looked up at me before repeating "Intense, yes, that's it..." I was glad to have helped out.)

If we judge them completely on a musical basis, The Arcade Fire aren't just going places--they're building domes on the Dark Side of the Moon, driving dirtbikes over the lunar surface, and leaping towards the sun. Did I mention they're from Montreal? Great new rock and roll. Go and see if you can pick up their album at Cheap Thrills or download some of their stuff from their website.

The way I'm ranting and raving about the opening band, you'd think that the Phaser didn't exist. This would be a blessing upon humanity, if you ask me. Don't look at me that way. I can't help but shrug when I listen to these Washingtonites (Washingtonians?) and hear a Southern version of Sam Roberts, only without the tunefulness and with a lot more attitude. This makes for a mish-mash, a home-brewed bootleg of rock and roll with too many distortion pedals and not enough songwriting prowess. Some in the crowd were grooving to Phaser, while I was not. My brother shook his head when they played although both he and I had been toe-tapping and "rocking out" to The Arcade Fire only minutes before.

Shows are not judged by the opening acts, as we all know, and the headliner, Hawksley Workman, tricked us into believing he was human and fallible in his first couple of songs. He looked slightly shaky, seemingly not happy with the job the sound men had been doing (between songs, he asked them to raise the vocals). His set began with several songs from his latest album, including "On the Highway Tonight", "We Will Still Need a Song", and "Anger as Beauty". This is where he really hit his stride, keeping the whole crowd spellbound. Hawksley kept lurching and high-stepping around the stage like some sort of dinosaur and he was soloing and enjoying himself out there. When you hear him sing live for the first time, it is very tempting to smile in awe of his amazing range. He can go from a guttural baritone into a frenetic yelp at the bat of an eyelash. He has the best set of pipes since Freddy Mercury.

One of the best songs of the whole night had to be "Tonight Romanticize the Automobile". It has such a powerful lead that really shines through when you hear it live and we could hear the conviction in Hawksley's voice. He knows the talent he's got inside and when you hear him turn a catchy lyric into a poetic moment, his eyes look wild and feral. I think this must be what it was like to see Jim Morrison perform live. (One can only imagine! I once read a pretty strange story about Jim & Jimi Hendrix, involving a bottle of whiskey and Janis Joplin, but I'm getting off-topic. Read Rolling Stone if you want hippy gossip.)

Hearing these songs played live for the first time confirmed my suspicions about the poor production of his album "Lover/Fighter" (see review below somewhere on this page). Live, the songs sounded clearer and sharper, like a detailed photograph that comes into focus when you put on your bifocals. He sounded paranormal, almost even mystical, especially on "Wonderful and Sad", "Your Beauty Must Be Rubbing Off" and "Smoke Baby". It was difficult not to sing along with most of his songs but I could have done without the wailing and screaming of some of the ladies in the audience. (During an operatic pause in the middle of "Don't Be Crushed", some girl shouted "Take it Off!". Hawksley, obviously offended that his song was being overlooked, growled back "You first!")

Eventually, the rest of his band ("The Wolves") left the stage. Only Hawksley remained up there, grabbing a seat at the piano and playing a couple of classics from his first album "For Him and the Girls". Eventually, Mr. Lonely (his keyboardist) returned to the stage and picked up where Hawksley left off . After several pleas for a nice glass of Red Wine (and a bellow from this reviewer down into the crowd "Someone get this man some wine!"), Hawksley's wish was granted and he took a great big swig of wine. At one point, he was singing "Silver Bells" and he still sounded fresh and effervescent.

Hawksley and the Wolves did two encores (including a great song off his first album, "Safe and Sound") and we were all envigorated by the great show we had just witnessed. Excluding Phaser, I think that I saw some of the best Rock and Roll that Canada has to offer right now. Matthew Good Band and Our Lady Peace are relative pee-wees compared to the majestic grandeur of Arcade Fire, while Rufus Wainright is like Hawksley-lite or maybe his kid brother, trying to get his sea-legs. I am really anxious to get my hands on more from the Arcade Fire. And Hawksley? He will only get better the more time he spends in Paris and in Montreal, at least if he stays off the blow. (Read the lyrics of "Smoke Baby" and you'll see what I mean).

To sum up, I can't wait until next year because Pop Montreal is turning into the best music festival we've got! (And to think that I missed the Queens of the Stone Age show. It will be a challenge to refrain from slashing up my wrists with a steak knife).

Next time you get passed over for a promotion at work, or if your latest attempt at fame has been stifled by some editor or entertainment personality, thumb through a copy of the Tao-te-Ching, "The Way of the Tao". It will set your mind at ease, if you let it. For example...

29.

If you want to grab the world and run it

I can see that you will not succeed.

The world is a spiritual vessel, which can't be controlled.


Manipulators mess things up.

Grabbers lose it. Therefore:


Sometimes you lead

Sometimes you follow

Sometimes you are stifled

Sometimes you breathe easy

Sometimes you are strong

Sometimes you are weak

Sometimes you destroy

And sometimes you are destroyed.
 

Hence, the sage shuns excess

Shuns grandiosity

Shuns arrogance.

**************
If we could all live by the ways of the Tao, I think that the world would be a peaceful, bland, amazing place to live. If this taste of "Tao" is leaving you hungry for more, open your eyes @ the Tao Te Ching (Charles Muller Translation). Lao-Tzu was one wise old dude.

Wow. I had heard about the "Sabra and Shatilla" massacres, carried out by Phalagist Milita against the Palestianian refugee camps in 1982, but I didn't know that an Israeli inquiry concluded that Ariel Sharon was "indirectly responsible"! According to the Geneva Convention, an occupying force must ensure the safety of the civilians in the area it controls. According to Human Rights Watch,

"...then-Chief of Staff Lt.-Gen. Rafael Eitan testified that the entry of the Phalangists into the refugee camps was agreed upon between former Defense Minister Sharon and himself. Thereafter, former Defense Minister Sharon went to Phalangist headquarters and met with, among others, a number of Phalangist commanders. A document issued by former Defense Minister Sharon´s office containing “The Defense Minister´s Summary of 15 September 1982” states: “For the operation in the camps the Phalangists should be sent in.” That document also stated that “the I.D.F. shall command the forces in the area.”"

Since the IDF had a command post within 200 meters of the Shatilla camp, they had a moral and legal obligation to protect the Palestinians who were living there. So I guess Sharon is a war criminal, in the literal sense of the word. What will be done? As long as he's in the pocket of Right-wing American interests, nothing.
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As a Jew, it is difficult to be constantly defending your faith while watching the only country on the planet that claims to stand for Judaism inflict pain and suffering on others. You can't change the past but why don't we try to change the future, for the better? Dialogue between Palestinian and Israeli moderates is imperative or else we'll never escape from the vortex of violence and destruction.

Today marks the passing of a great man, Prof. Edward Said. He was a Palestinian-American writer, a concert pianist, and an outspoken critic of Both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. He once even criticized Arafat and had his books banned from Palestinian bookstores. Oxford-educated, he wasn't just a Rhetoric-spiller--his arguments were soundly rooted in the Western intellectual tradition. Pay your respects and maybe read about him @ here at Electronic Intifadah. Personally, my thoughts are with his loved ones and the millions of people in that part of the world (both sides have a right to exist!).

Hopefully, the new generation of Israelis and Palestinians will be committed to living in harmony, even if their leadership is armed to the teeth and craving conflict for their own reasons. One example of freedom and hope triumphing over terror is the 27 Israeli pilots (9 active, the rest retired or reserve) who refused to conduct the "precision strikes" over the Palestinian territories. This brave act will send a message to the Palestinians that not all Israelis are the "enemy". Some of them are tired of the fighting and are willing to make concessions to the oppressed Palestinian population. Likewise, maybe a few Palestinians will come forward and refuse to participate in the suicide bombings (I suppose Hisbollah et al. would have something harsh to say to them, maybe kill their families, I don't know...).

Israel may have to demolish this wall they're building. It violates the 4th Geneva convention (Article 53) because it is forcing the evacuation of many Palestinian families from their homes. Also, it won't exactly foster a sense of security for either side (have you ever seen how people act when they're "caged in"? They won't cease to strike back--it will only galvanize their sense of anger and probably encourage more attacks. Imposing punishment on a people will always swell the ranks of whichever Resistance Movement (or Terror Organization, depending on your opinion of Islamic Jihad & Hamas) claims to defend their interests.
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To move a thousand kilometers or so east, Iraq is proving to be a violent, chaotic place for the American/British occupation. The shooting of Akila al-Hashemi (she passed away yesterday) marks a serious development in the battle to control Iraq. It means that the people responsible will stop at nothing to achieve their aims. It also means that the Americans should transfer power to a United Nations team and get their tanks out of there, ASAP. Polls conducted have shown mixed results and the Western media are spinning it to whichever direction they prefer (for example). Even though most Iraqis believe that Saddam was a despot who had to be removed, they also feel that for the time being, their situation is more desparate than when Saddam was in power. They do have optimism for the future (the majority believe things will be better in 5 years in Iraq) but it is tempered by the constant presence of American/British troops, the lack of access to basic needs like water and electricity, and the fear of attacks (from their fellow citizens and from the Occupying forces).
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Every person on the planet should be allowed to live in peace and liberty. Any country, "terrorist organization", multinational, or individual who inhibits peace in the world is responsible for Terror, no matter whose dictionary you have in your bookshelf. Tell me the difference between the impact crater of a Cruise missile or that of a suicide bomb--they both kill people, they are both set off for the wrong reasons, and they both incite anger and fear in our hearts. In other words, let's put our guns down and use our mouths to speak. Speaking never kills but it does sometimes illuminate the truth.

Anybody know of a relatively clean, fairly cheap 4 and a half in the Greater Montreal Region? (We're greater than most!) I ask you this because our landlord is ready to skin us alive and we owe hundreds of dollars so we must evade his talons & flee to safety.

If you have any ideas (no roaches, no rats, preferrably close(r) to downtown than Pierrefonds, etc.), send them to this address: mac_abre@yahoo.com or click here. Thanks in advance!

Hunter S. Thompson did once say "Abuse your Credit for All it's worth" but then again, he was living in an abandoned shack on the coastline of San Juan at the time, drinking Rum like it was free & banging out all sorts of copy for the "Rotarian" Press ("The dry rot of American Journalism"), so he had some sort of income at the time. When all you've got to carry on your back is a typewriter and a couple of shotguns, it's easy to flop from place to place. I've got my guitar and amp & other junk that must be carted. It ain't easy being a consumer.

Last night, I was in a sort of self-destructive rant trip and I couldn't stop seeing things wrong with the world. Today, I awoke with the idea in my head that even if I couldn't change the world from this polluted ground, maybe 2 or 3 years down the line, I can get something done. In the meantime, I have to lay off the dope, stay at least 10 yards from any Pubs or Bars, and keep my hands out of the harder drugs. Easier said than done, especially since Drugs Are Cool and Fuck Authority and all those teenage slogans rolled into one. I've been carrying this Standard for so long that it has become tattered and faded without my noticing. I think it's time for a revamp of my goals & dreams. I have to put them back where they belong...at the top of the page.

Luckily, I'm in love (if you don't remember Kate, scroll down this Blog!!!) and I have a few good friends that I can count on. Let us hope that everyone in the world has a great day today.

Hey, I almost forgot. Former General Clark, who won the acclaim of Michael Moore and a few other Liberal pundits, seems to be a sure thing for Democratic nomination. He has several things going for him:

1) He's not Bush.

2) He used to be a general so he will appeal to the Right Wing Gun nuts out there.

3) He seems to believe that Multilateral action is preferable to Unilateral invasion; he also could command a large part of the Centrist vote (those Flip-flop voters who don't have an allegiance to either party but who go with the candidate that makes them feel warm and fuzzy).

4) He is against the Iraq war/occupation and wants to get the U.N. involved.

5) He seems like a tough motherfucker. He led NATO, for the love of Pete! Bush, being the draft-dodging oil baron that he is, has no way to sniff a victory this time, not even if Jeb puts those crooked voting machines into overdrive. With a failing economy, a military reserve force guarding quicksand, and with many civil liberties being lost day after day, Bush should be feeling the heat. This Clark guy might just be the Real Deal.

I'm not saying that Howard Dean isn't a great guy. I just can't see him winning the whole election because he's way too much of a hippy (he believes in Canadian-style healthcare!) and he doesn't have a backbone (he keeps changing his mind like a fucking weathervane). Don't believe me, though. Go to Google News for the best in Web Journalism! Or, better yet, visit Plastic.com and post some of your own!

My Regards. A la prochaine millenaire!

Reading through this review a couple of hours later, I realize that I've shortchanged Hawksley, to a certain extent. Just because the production is slick doesn't mean the album isn't great. All nine tracks are interesting and grow on you like a teenage goatee, little by little.

Also, Hawksley did give us a couple of extra reasons to wait for his next album in good faith--"Motorbike" and "Addicted"--two hidden tracks that appear after the CD is finished. I'm not sure if he wrote either song but they both sound like lost tracks from his previous album(s).

Hawksley is a puzzle, a rock-solid poet who can turn lyrics into gold, much like the alchemists of ancient times tried to transmute lead into something worthwhile. At the same time, he is disappointing, because we all see the massive potential that he has within his grasp but minor details have obscured it from view (ie. pressure from his label to sell albums, production gaffes, etc.). Trust me, though...he is strictly on the up and up.

Take a look at the cheesy review I penned for The Mirror. Of course, they bounced it...I wouldn't expect otherwise from a street-smart free weekly with no money to pay me anyhow (sour grapes? yes, they taste very sour).

Tonight, Kate is coming to Montreal with her friend Lexi. It should be a great weekend. Even though I consider myself quite the emotional guy, it's been a real challenge just getting through a week or so without seeing her. Every time she leaves, I die a tiny death.

Last night, I watched a mesmerizing show on PBS with Dr. Dyer (?), some sort of New-Age Cultish Guru. He has a tape he's out flogging right now called "Ten Steps to Spiritual and Mental Well-being" (or something like that). The 5th of his 10 "Steps" is quite a handy one to keep in mind. It goes something like this:

"Embrace silence. It is the space between the bars that hold the tiger. It is the space between the notes that makes the music."

Think about that one, chug a beer or two, and call me in the morning.

Hello there, stranger. Sitting by this fire is real cozy. Could ya do me a favour and toss that hardwood in there, just to give it a kick? Hey, while you're at it, toss me that saddlebag from over behind that rock. Yeah, that's the one. The wind has gone somewhere tonight and quite frankly, it's a little bit lonely out here on this island.

(Out of the saddlebag comes two CD's. One of them reads "Hawksley Workman" and the other reads "Buck 65")

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Hawksley Workman has returned and it's hard not to know about it -- Universal Music Canada has plastered his face everywhere, including on the front windows of HMV (a record chain from Canada?). This weeks "Hour" (a free weekly here in MTL) has Hawksley's mug on the cover. He is even getting some media attention south of the border and across the Atlantic (apparently the British press can't get enough of this guy).

Media blitz aside, I feel that his new album "Lover/Fighter" is somewhat of a let down. For those of us that have been following his curious career path (his original press bio said that he used to be the janitor of a dance academy and he would live in the studio and dance all night, or something to that effect), "Lover/Fighter" couldn't be anything but a disappointment.

There are still some great songs here--highlights include "Smoke Baby", "Anger as Beauty", and "Tonight Romanticize the Automobile", all epic tunes that blow the roof right off your house. Where the album descends to the level of us mere mortals is in the production. Hawksley has said himself in interviews that he is something of a "control freak" and the shiny, U2-esque production of his latest LP has proven this tenfold.

I'm not saying that I don't enjoy the pride of Ireland--Bono et al. have grown on me over the years, especially since the grunge explosion died down and it was OK again to branch out into mellow without crossing Bon Jovi's path. The only problem is that "Lover/Fighter" sounds subdued, even in its loudest moments. Hawksley is aiming for the cheap seats, trying to convince everybody of his genius, and despite a great selection of songs and impassioned playing (he plays nearly every instrument on the album), I can't honestly say that I prefer it to his other albums. He's pulling his punches and that might sell him some more albums but it won't result in the critical success he's longing for.

You have to take risks when you're making art, and I think he's trying to colour inside the lines and go for the "safe bet". Perhaps a fitting metaphor for Hawksley's new album would be a Deer head mounted to a wall. When you first see a deer running through the woods, it is easy to marvel at the speed and grace of the buck. Somehow, the deer just doesn't look the same once you've shot him and stuck him up on the wall of your den. I have the somber opinion that "Lover/Fighter" was mixed down and recorded in such a manner that it has killed the spontaneity and vitality of Mr. Workman's main strength, songwriting.

I hope that Hawksley brings in some help next time to man the boards. Aside from that, I don't see any smoke on the horizon. He will only improve, and Canadian music will be the better for it.

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Buck 65 is another one of those musical luminaries, a "control freak" just like Hawksley, only he's been at this a lot longer. He's been DJ'ing since the early 90's and he released his first album in 1997 on his own label ("Language Arts").

His latest release "Talking Honky Blues" is a masterpiece, not inhibited by safe production values or sure-thing mixing. A fair comparison would be Beck hanging out with DJ Krush and Johnny Cash, all sharing a 40-ouncer of Johnny Walker and trading war stories.

The first time I tried to get down a solid account of this album, I was stumped. It's hard to type when your head is grooving to a good beat and you've got nothing left to smoke, especially when the words you're hearing are so masterfully spoken. Buck 65 is deep, a musical traveler without a home. (In one interview, he said he has no home address because he's been touring for so long).

Plus, he raps about houseboats and tramps and rusty water tanks. How many rappers do you know that tell a story like this? (Eminem is the only one I can think of off the top of my head but he's far more obsessed with hatred of his parental lineage to produce anything remotely artistic these days.) He talks about his father removing snow with a flame-thrower, about Blue Jays and trains, about everything without feeling the need to tell off anybody or attack his detractors.

The Hip-Hop orthodoxy down at The Source will probably write off Buck 65 as a whack MC with a slow flow and a couple of interesting beats but if they do, they'll be missing the point. He is proof positive that rap can be taken to new levels, when posturing and machismo is put aside in favour of poetry and ideas. I'm not saying that Nas or Jay-Z are going to be sweating -- nobody would even THINK of trying to unseat 50 Cent from the Hip Hop Throne -- but Buck 65 represents one of the latest in a recent uptick in Well-Made, Conscious rap (Although infinitely more political, Dead Prez is definitely another one to watch out for. Also on this short-list of amazing rap is K-OS, a Torontonian who takes it to a higher level on his album "Exit").

Here's hoping that Buck strikes gold again like he did on "Talking Honky Blues". It took years of floating down this river before we found the goldmine, but "Fast ain't always better than slow / you know". Go and buy his album! (or download it on Kazaa, whatever suits your fancy.
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Today, I was one of the lucky few who made it to the Hawksley Workman "Intimate & Interactive" at MusiquePlus. (I know, they have a French name but it escapes me. Sorry). I attended with trusted friend Dusk and we made it just as the crew member was announcing "three minutes until we're live" (trans. from French, of course). Hawksley made his way onto the stage decked out in a puffy retro pink shirt and green-black army pants. Dusk approved but shook her head in disdain when she saw his pointy strange boots. The old adage not to judge a book proved 100 percent true because Hawksley & his band put on one hell of a show.

He began with "We Still Need a Song", an ode to the healing power of music and it's influence on our lives. I think that Hawksley Workman is like a Van Morrison for our generation, one raised on the Ramones and U2 and The Clash. He is brash and a real showman, raising his arms like a preacher and opening his palms towards the ceiling. Hawksley's voice yelps, croons, sings, and sometimes leaps into a falsetto (not the irritating kind, the judiciously employed kind). He seemed confident in front of the crowd of 50 or so and his band was keeping pace quite well. His bass player sang on several songs including "Anger as Beauty" and "Smoke".(That may not be the right song title. Don't bother searching for this stuff on Kazaa...his record company put copy protection in the disks and all the songs have sections of backwards Hawksley intermittently ruining great songs).

The whole show focused on his new album, except for a momentary cover of the Police's "Roxanne" during the commercial break. He channelled Sting quite well and Dusk was most enthusiastic towards the performer. He was forced to cease by the MusiquePlus staff because we were going back to the show.

During the interview section of the hour-long show, they innundated him with a barrage of questions. Some of them were quite interesting, such as "Who is your favourite author?" He first said the Sears Catalogue but then mentioned Ernest Hemingway as one of his faves. He just returned from Paris so reading "A Moveable Feast" was interesting to him, "being a young artist reading about another young artist."

He excelled on "Anger as Beauty". I have the song locked in my consciousness like a mantra that never ceases, "Anger as Beauty, Anger as Beauty, Anger as beauty..." He was sweating under the bright lights but didn't hold back, belting his way through the set as if it was a stroll on a cool, windy day. One of the MusiquePlus hosts commented that the album had really touched him, and that it was a very good Autumn record. I think that after hearing this set, I must soundly agree.

He said the artist he was listening to the most was Jay-Z. He is really inspired by the language and lyrical skill Jay-Z brings to the table, and that is probably why he decided to put a singing/rapping female vocalist (the Beautiful Lady from Black Corners) on his track "Smoke". He also mentioned Daniel Lanois and a greatest hits compilation CD from the 1980's. When he's on tour, his time away from the clubs and the stage is usually "quiet time", but when he needs good music, it is a soothing voice that brings serenity (Ed. Note--sorry for that ultra-new-age-sounding line).

He wrote a book of poetry, "Hawksley Burns for Isadora" last year (?) and he was asked if he planned on continuing with his literary craft. He said if the inspiration came to him, he would definately put himself totally into writing again. He also joked that he might write a cookbook because he is an avid chef. It "brings him back down to the soil" after the revelry and "bad habits" of a tour. I think he mentioned that music is the best drug, but the only drug he seemed to be on during the show was Red Wine--a "Good French wine is a good French wine," he said.

Buried deep within the lyrics of "Smoke" is a line about "Cocaine in Montreal / then back up on the plane Baby" and this pleased the crowd to no end. His ode to hedonism was not only well written but performed with a great enthusiasm, and everyone could sense the tingle in the air we were breathing, in the sounds we were hearing, and Hawksley was loving the attention.

During most of the show, the crowd was mostly subdued. Aside from the "Smoke" song, they didn't really participate but they cheered very loudly for Mr. Workman in and out of every commercial break, cued by a MusiquePlus worker who did the countdown "And trois deux un on Roll!". Many of the folks in the crowd probably wanted to hear his older material, such as "Jealous of your Cigarette" or "Bullet Bouncing off my Helmet" from his first LP "For Him and the Girls". He kept to newer stuff and this was a slight misfortune but not the end of existence.

Hawksley Workman is from Toronto and after the show, I approached a lady who had been singing and rapping beside Hawksley during the song "Smoke". She told me that her band was called "Black Corner" and to check out their website. I've been unable to find the site as of Press Time but I shall continue & hopefully add it to this blah in the near future.

I told the young lady that because of their innate talent and great music, I have been forced to take back half of the bad things I've ever said about Toronto (only half, don't think I'm selling out!) :)

To sum up quite ungracefully, Hawksley Rocked and he is a World Class Musical Genius. I think that he'll circle the globe and spread his music like magic lessons everywhere. He is a poet, a musician, a producer, a writer, and something of an eccentric, with his constant fibbing and self-analysing. I can't wait to hear his album without the backwards-playing Hawksley voice!

Anyhow, I must be off to call my one and only, Kate, so fare thee well and may a blessing of luck be cast upon your house. Rock on, my peeps.

I've developed a new habit and I'm quite proud of it. I believe you regular folks call it "sobriety". I try to stick to the "middle path" (I kind of stole it from the Buddhists. Sorry, Mr. Lama et al.) and it's working wonders for my psyche. Instead of drinking or smoking dope every night like in my Glory Days (my one fateful year at Concordia U. & my 3 years of inebriated consciousness at Gaspé CEGEP), I keep my hedonism to the weekends.

Up here in MTL, we can score a 20-bag (about 2 grams, give or take) for $20, although if you have the right connections, you can sometimes pick it for as low as $15. I used to smoke roughly one 20-bag per day, and if you calculate what I was spending on my smoke, you'll see that I could have put a down payment on a house or at least paid off my student loans in full ($20 CAD X 365 Days X 3 years=$21,900). This is a sickening concept and part of my reasoning behind cutting back on the reefer.

Booze is another matter. I've spend thousands of dollars on drinking but it is harder to quantify, especially since I don't usually have any recollection of how much I spent the next day. For awhile back in the summer of 2000, I was drinking enough to satiate the thirst of a Platoon of British commandos. I once even had a streak going of being drunk (or close to it) every night for 2 months straight.

You might call this a rookie Alcoholics whining, or a testament to the power and endurance of the human spirit. All I'm trying to say is that being sober is fun, especially when you start to get your memory back & you're in love with a beautiful woman & she's coming to visit in 2 days! (Actually, Kate is coming to town tomorrow, so Shady & I have planned a cleaning frenzy for the apartment.)

I forgot to tell you about my car accident the other day. I'll get to that later, perhaps? Anyhow, if you're watching MusiquePlus in the near future, keep your eyes open for the live Hawksley Workman performance. I will be in the audience, clapping until my hands bleed red.

Rock on, y'all!

Last night, I banged on my guitar for hours, exploring the myriad shapes and tones that can originate from a piece of wood with magnetic coils in its center. Playing guitar can be dangerous to my health, not only because of its ability to make a Milwaukee's Best or Alexander Keith's appear in my hand. I've been electrocuted several times in the past couple of weeks, including one jarring shock that occurred when I tried to wet my hair while having the guitar slung over my shoulder. One hand was touching the strings when the other turned the tap and **********zap*********** I was leaping backwards and screaming. 110 Volts is apparently not very much of a charge. I have a friend who's done some work in electrical systems and he claims to be able to stand 220/230 Volts without dropping his coffee.

Our tap never ceases to drip. It is like Chinese Water Torture, listening to it plop plop plop in our bathroom. I close the door but then you feel like you can still hear it, only quieter.

Why is this so? Our apartment is not at the top of the list of priorities, for our Bourgeois Landlord. He wears a top hat and those long coats, just like the dude from Parker Brothers. (What's his name? Bill Gates?) Seriously, we live in a Triplex and our landlord is a Great Man, one far too preoccupied with making his living to bother to take an interest in our lodgings. Our screen door is hanging like a scab on the back of the house, the tap drips, we pay electricity bills in excess of $200 CAD per month because there's no insulation (We'd be better in a snowbank, if you ask me). Etc.

To be fair, we're often late with the rent, so why should he really give a shit? We don't follow our social pact with him, so why should he return the favour? (Jeremy, you're not helping your case).

Now, I'm off to the tam-tams. Like Toucan Sam would say, "Follow your nose to the dope you fiend!".

I was just on Plastic.com and I found a link to an online test that was quite amusing. It has a series of multiple choice questions that can help you to determine your political outlook in relation to America's place in the world. I'm sure you'll find it just as interesting as I did! It turns out that I'm a (drumroll...) Liberal, not in the Canadian Gov't sense, but in the American sense of the word. I'm quite happy with that, really.

Everyone has a right to their opinion (even the Deluded or the Brainwashed) and the freedom to disagree is something that we should cherish above all. Even if you want to drill in the middle of a National Park to fill up the tank of the Gas Guzzling S.U.V. you wash every day, I still think you should have the opportunity to let your voice be heard. Just be forewarned that there are more liberals like me, and we're going to vote for people who want to change the world for the better. You Right-Wingers can goose-step yourselves right into a deficit, for all I care. Give me my weed and my True North Strong and Free. :)

Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm just feeling slightly bitter these days. After all, look what the Republicans are doing to the U.S. right now? They're planting lots of little terrorism seeds all around the globe. Don't you think all those Afghani orphans are going to come looking for us in 20 or so years? We need to make peace if we are to survive. You can't fight a war on terror -- it's like trying to fight a war on gravity, or a war against the weather.

Hello all. Today I awoke with a dull throbbing in the back-alleys of my brain, a hangover, if you will. Yesterday was a day and a half.

I'm so desparate to be in school that I went to Dawson and attended class with one of my friends. It was a Philosophy course and the teacher doesn't take attendance. I sat in the back of the room and tried my best not to arouse suspicion.(sp?)

It was a really interesting course & I hope to attend another in the future. The prof was a white-haired old genius of the tweed & gin variety (tweed on his back, gin in his gullet). He spoke about where the word inspiration came from. Apparently, Pythagoras didn't just rob the Egyptians of their Geometry--he also invented a religion that mixes mathematics with faith, including a rule that one must never eat beans because they have souls. Their souls try to escape from your ass in the form of flatulence. For this reason, it was forbidden to consume the bean.

According to the prof, Socrates was a follower of the Pythagorean faith and wasn't a Monist (they believe that we're all made of one element, such as air, water, or fire. Anaximander was a smart cookie because he thought we were a mix of all four. Present day scientists know that there are over a hundred elements but all matter came from Hydrogen, originally.) So I guess Socrates didn't eat beans, either.

Needless to say that it was a great class. (If it's needless to say something, why bother saying it? I'm breaking literary rules for you all, and I hope you appreciate that). At one point, I was forced to speak up because he mentioned how some people believe (including one of my faves, Noam Chomsky) that we are born with a certain predetermination to achieve or err in life, an idea that runs contrary to the standard politically-correct belief that we're all clean slates (tabla raza, as he put it).

I raised my skinny arm and spoke. "Doesn't that raise the nasty specter of eugenics?" He nodded visciously (sp?) and said "Yes, the Nazis would have loved to spread this theory but I don't believe it, myself." Then he went on to reveal that the precursor to the Canadian Alliance, the Right Wing Looneys from back West, once sterilized all the Disabled (Retarded, in modern lingo) people in the 1930's. I'll never vote for a party that has such little regard for human existence.

After we got home from class (we walked all the way from Atwater metro downtown back home in NDG), I cooked the spaghetti sauce that was festering in the bottom of our fridge & talked to my one and only on the phone. Kate is everything I've ever wanted in a woman--she's intelligent and beautiful AND opinionated. Plus, she has a way with words that makes me feel inspired. (Again, back to the ancient Greeks. They believed that a babys first breath was when he gained all of his ideas and an old mans final exhalation was his ideas escaping back into the air, from whence all ideas come.) Everything Kate says to me gives me ideas (some not appropriate for younger audiences!) and that's why I feel really comfortable with her. I hope we can make this last forever.

After supper, Shady & I walked up to the gas station on Sherbrooke where I used my Visa to buy a case of Molson High Dry (it was either that or Black Label, and Carling makes you black out, hence the name). We went home and I burned a hip-hop CD for commercial breaks during the bizarre reality TV show Cupid.

When midnight rolled around, Shady got a crazy look in his eyes. We went outside and took a stroll. Upon waking up this morning, I realized last night's folly. We stole a couple of street signs (I'm sure we'll have some explaining to do next time the cops visit) but I think that this time, we've gone too far. You just don't take a one-way sign. It's plain wrong.

Anyhow, I'm off to boil some water to add to instant oatmeal. I'll try and give you folks something to read tomorrow. Rock on, everyone, and remember to breathe deeply. Some of the grandest ideas have arisen from deep gasps of air (or weed smoke, whichever you prefer!). Peace.