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.

# # #

"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.

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.
~~~
"URGENT AND CONFIDENTIAL
SIR,
FIRST,I MUST SOLICIT YOUR STRICTEST CONFIDENCE IN THIS TRANSACTION AND
I PRAY MY DECISION TO CONTACT YOU WILL BE GIVEN A GENUINE APPROVAL CONSIDERING
THE FACT THAT WE HAVE NOT KNOWN EACH OTHER BEFORE.

I AM PRINCE MENSAH OPOKU,A GHANAIAN AND THE FIRST SON OF THE SECOND WIFE
OF LATE KING NANA OPOKU ,HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS OF THE ASHANTI KINGDOM
OF THE REPUBLIC OF GHANA. OUR TRADITION PROHIBITS THE CHILDREN OF THE SECOUND WIFE TO INHERIT THE ESTATE OF THEIR FATHER,BASED ON THIS FACT,MY FATHER BEFORE HIS DEATH
, DEPOSITED A LARGE AMOUNT OF GOLD,WHICH USED TO BE PART OF THE HOMAGE
PAID TO HIM BY THE MINING COMPANIES OPERATING IN HIS TRADITIONAL LANDS,WITH
A BANK THROUGH A SECURITY COMPANY, AS AN INSURANCE FOR MY FUTURE.
PRESENTLY,MY PARENTS ARE DEAD AND I AM STILL IN SCHOOL WHICH I DECIDED
TO CONTACT YOU IMMEDIATELY TO HELP ME CARRY OUT THIS TREASURE THAT IS
LYING IN THE VAULT OF THE BANK TO YOUR COUNTRY, UNDER YOUR CARE AND SUPERVISSION
FOR FURTHER INVESTMENT PURPOSES,AFTER AN ONWARD SALE.
SIR,THEREFORE,ALL THAT IS NEEDED OF YOU IS JUST YOUR COOPERATION,HONESTY,AND
WILLINGNESS TO COME DOWN TO GHANA WHEREFORE,WE SHALL ALL GO TO THE BANK
TO CLAIM THIS TREASURE THAT HAS ACCUMULATED SOME DEMURRAGE CHARGES.EVERY
LEGAL DOCUMENTS COVERING THE SAFE KEEPING OF THIS GOLD SHALL BE SENT
TO YOU ON REQUEST.
SIR,I HOPE YOU TREAT THIS MESSAGE WITH THE HIGHEST URGENCY IT DESERVE
AND CONSIDER IT FAVORABLY,AFTER WHICH I WILL BE WELL PLEASE, TO FURNISH
YOU WITH ANY ADDITIONAL INFORMATION YOU MAY REQUIRE FROM ME.
PLEASE,ENDEAVOR TO INCLUDE YOUR PRIVATE FAX AND PHONE NUMBERS WHEN REPLYING,
TO ENABLE ME REACH YOU FASTER.YOU CAN ALSO CONTACT ME WITH THIS E-MAIL ADDRESS OR CALL ME ON THIS PHONE LINE....
LOOKING FORWARD TO ESTABLISHING A PROSPEROUS BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP WITH
YOU AT LARGE.
I ANTICIPATE YOUR MAXIMUM UNDERSTANDING AND COOPERATION.
THANKS,

REGARDS,

PRINCE MENSAH OPOKU."

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!)

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
Coriander
Tabula Rasa
(& Friends)
Reggie's, 1455 de Maisonneuve
(Inside Concordia University, Metro Guy-Concordia)

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.

"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.

"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
bombs
parapets
cancer
tainted food
racists
blackmail
automobiles
insects
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
then.

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

May 10, 2005

ID: *******
Jeremy Brendan
**** Monkland
Montreal, Quebec
H** 1**
jeremybrendan@gmail.com

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.

Sincerely,
Enn Raudsepp, PhD
Director
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

"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.
JB.

***

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.

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

"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
-self-referential
-a bad influence
-ornery
-creative
-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

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.

"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.

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

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)

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!

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!
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Thu - 03.24 Launie Anderssohn, The Dissonants, The Rothschilds, Coriander @ Reggie's Pub ($2) (7pm), 1455 De Maisonneuve (in Concordia's Hall Building!).
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"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.

"Wilding"
~~~
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
infinite
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
insanity
& 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.