I was staring at the little white mouse while kneeling in my rarely-mopped bathroom. I flicked the baggie with my index finger and a question jet-skied across my slopes; how did this get here?
It was grown in the hills of Colombia by someone who was likely toting a semi or fully automatic weapon. The FARC is a noted supplier of the North American drug market but I have read articles (on BBC?) that their paramilitary counterparts (affiliated with the US-backed Colombian government) also have their place in the drugriculture scene. After being chopped and ground up into tiny slimy yellow grains, it was packed into blocks and carried north through sweaty verdant jungles by stoic foot soldiers. Do they use boats? Planes? I have even heard reports of submarines being used to get drugs onto the American continent.
Rather than digressing on the minutia of the drug smuggling process, I would rather bring the moral case to the forefront. I am an unabashed drug consumer and have always felt that as long as a substance's positive effects outweighed its negatives, it should be legally available. I felt safe in my glistening palace of rebel dream logic and sure that I was on the moral high ground.
I fear that I was wrong.
Because the war on drugs imprisons people that get caught smuggling drugs for me, I am a bad person. With each purchase, I am buying the lives of countless mules, soldiers, police officers, innocent civilians, and even drug lords (they're people too!).
Perhaps my moral compass has finally pointed towards something that fits with a secular humanist viewpoint. Instead of reveling in my savage cityscape until all hours of the night, the morally correct thing to do would be to avoid the stuff altogether unless I can talk to the grower personally.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Obama Blues
Is this really how things are going to turn out south of the border? America has been given a candidate of substance who writes his own speeches, who speaks from his heart (no matter how calculated his positions may be, he still sounds like he means what he says), and who could use his immense rhetorical powers to beat the Republicans... and he is being stymied by a slip of the tongue, an incorrect portrayal of middle America that apparently "disturbs" the populace.
Everyone says things that they regret. Most politicians offend someone just by getting out of bed with a check from a particular lobbyist in their hands. Obama committed the sin of being too "truthy" for the media, his opponents, and hence the entire population of Pennsylvania.
Did anyone ask the people of PA about their opinion on this matter? I haven't seen a lot of print devoted to this burning question. Most has been flaming crud in projectile form being tossed at Obama because he dared to say that people who lose their jobs turn to religion or other red-meat issues because of their frustration with the failure of the political process to protect them.
I am not specifically against Hillary Clinton per se but I certainly have my reservations about her, mainly because of her uncanny resemblance to another candidate from days gone by who went by the name of John Kerry: another monied elite with nuanced opinions but no cogent way to present ones point; another Washington-fed politician who will say anything to keep one's post; another part of the system, assuring us all that he/she will be the ONE to fix everything and make the world spin properly again.
If Obama is seriously damaged by this minor gaffe and loses the Democratic nomination, expect John McCain to coast to a relatively easy victory in the general election in the fall. Hillary is a great person & has some good ideas but she has been co-opted by the entrenched corporate & political interests to really change things. Obama is our only hope, and he is being targeted by both camps.
The question is, should one phrase plucked from a campaign of rock-solid ideas derail Obama's whole campaign? Let the American voter be the judge. We all know that they follow the news & form independent opinions & are worthy to analyze the myriad political maneuvers that go on from day to day.
Obama in 2008, one hundred percent. I don't get to vote (being a Canadian) but if I could, I would have voted for Kucinich (Obama was my safety).
Love & Brotherhood to you all,
Philip
Bleeding Heart Liberal Whose Heart is Actually Not Bleeding (It's in great shape!)
Everyone says things that they regret. Most politicians offend someone just by getting out of bed with a check from a particular lobbyist in their hands. Obama committed the sin of being too "truthy" for the media, his opponents, and hence the entire population of Pennsylvania.
Did anyone ask the people of PA about their opinion on this matter? I haven't seen a lot of print devoted to this burning question. Most has been flaming crud in projectile form being tossed at Obama because he dared to say that people who lose their jobs turn to religion or other red-meat issues because of their frustration with the failure of the political process to protect them.
I am not specifically against Hillary Clinton per se but I certainly have my reservations about her, mainly because of her uncanny resemblance to another candidate from days gone by who went by the name of John Kerry: another monied elite with nuanced opinions but no cogent way to present ones point; another Washington-fed politician who will say anything to keep one's post; another part of the system, assuring us all that he/she will be the ONE to fix everything and make the world spin properly again.
If Obama is seriously damaged by this minor gaffe and loses the Democratic nomination, expect John McCain to coast to a relatively easy victory in the general election in the fall. Hillary is a great person & has some good ideas but she has been co-opted by the entrenched corporate & political interests to really change things. Obama is our only hope, and he is being targeted by both camps.
The question is, should one phrase plucked from a campaign of rock-solid ideas derail Obama's whole campaign? Let the American voter be the judge. We all know that they follow the news & form independent opinions & are worthy to analyze the myriad political maneuvers that go on from day to day.
Obama in 2008, one hundred percent. I don't get to vote (being a Canadian) but if I could, I would have voted for Kucinich (Obama was my safety).
Love & Brotherhood to you all,
Philip
Bleeding Heart Liberal Whose Heart is Actually Not Bleeding (It's in great shape!)
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Van Morrison @ LeBreton Flats, Ottawa ON
I awoke Wednesday morning to the sight of my parents looming over my bed. "Get up," my father said curtly. "We're going to see Van Morrison." They got into my Parc Avenue apartment without assistance thanks to my roommates who are allergic to locking doors. I hopped into a phone booth, donned some dirty pants and a Telefauna t-shirt, and was ready to swoop down on Ottawa, city of bureaucrats and power-wielders. After a few brief stops and a lunch at Pizza Donini, we were en route to what promised to be a great rock show.
After unloading their luggage at the Quality Inn on Rideau Street, we took a bus towards LeBreton Flats, a large field near the water where the Ottawa Blues Festival is being held this year.
On the way, I struck up a conversation with a long-haired street person who was also going to the concert. He had been entertaining the entire bus with his personal take on "Brown Eyed Girl" only minutes earlier. I asked him if he was looking forward to the show. "I don't have the fifty bucks," he said. "But I'm going to be up on the hill sitting and listening. If it rains, I'll be standing." I advised him to find a hole in the fence to gate-crash. "Oh no," he said quickly. "I'm not that kind of guy."
Before long, we were at the site and joined one of two enormous lines of people waiting to be admitted to the show. Ottawaians are always prepared, like Boy Scouts, and most of them brandished a ticket bought in advance. The lines moved relatively slowly but we were in after 30 minutes or so.
Standing about 100 feet from the stage, I surveyed the scene. It was certainly a good turnout. By my rough count, at least 30 thousand people showed up to stand in circles and talk about office politics (more on this later) while drinking the reasonably priced Molson Canadian ($5.50 per cup, which is less than I have seen on Ile-Jean-Drapeau in Montreal).
A prozac-blunted middle-aged blonde P.R. flack took the stage and began cooing at the crowd. "We've been waiting for him for over 42 years...Van MORRISON!" Of course, he didn't appear for several more minutes since he apparently begins all his shows at the scheduled time of 7:30 PM, not a minute sooner nor later.
As he & his band of seasoned professionals took the stage, the crowd cheered weakly and then resumed chatting. This irritated my parents, veteran hippy rock-and-roll troopers who had been at Isle of Wight to see Jimi Hendrix and up front in NYC to catch the Doors, and my usually pacifist father began to grumble. "I hope these people don't talk during the show."
Van's voice has gotten deeper in the past 4 decades, and as he wobbled through his opening number (which was a bluesy sort of bop), I remarked that he rarely used his higher register, leaving it to his 30-year old backup singers.
On the two video screens, you could see him in his white fedora, eyes glued shut, sipping from a water bottle between songs. He only said 6 words during the whole set as far as I can tell--and that was at the end of the show, ie. "Let's hear it for the band"--and I was disappointed that I had caught an artist of his calibre on autopilot.
As the set dragged on, my parents began to whisper that the crowd was ruining the show. Although we were by no means far back, it was plain to see that many of the people were treating the show as if it were a social schmooze-fest. Some weren't even facing the stage, preferring to talk to Judy from Accounting about her new 2008 Highlander while sipping from a $6 glass of red wine. "I want to hit the guys behind us," said my father, teeth clenched. My mom silenced him and tried to dance in this sea of talking squares.
When Van began singing "Into the Mystic", my current favourite from his back catalogue, my hopes bloomed for a spell. "Maybe he'll let loose," I thought. Instead, he limped through the song with all the ferocity of a pampered housecat, phoning it in like some post-alcoholic lounge singer. By this point, I realized that half of the problem was the rinky-dink sound system.
I've never organized a major music festival but I have been to several, including Maximum Blues in Carleton, PQ and Osheaga in Montreal. I've never been so disappointed with the sound levels before. Despite what Patrick "50 bucks will get you 4 stars" Langston said on the front page of the Ottawa Citizen, the music was barely audible through most of the crowd, although Van's vocals were clear and rose above the mix.
Why didn't someone from the mainstream press point this out? How much money has exchanged hands for someone to print a lie like this, courtesy of Langston from the Ottawa Citizen (italics mine):
One bright point was the tight performance of Van's backing band. Though I had to strain to hear them at all, they were definately on time and faithful to his Celtic Soul and rhythm & blues stylings.
I am sure the folks at the front of the stage, ie. within spitting distance of Van's Gucci loafers, got to hear it but for the rest of us, all 29 thousand of us, this concert was a bust. Even mildly upbeat performances of "Brown Eyed Girl" and "Gloria" didn't silence the chattering fools, and as Van exited stage right at 9 PM with no encores, my father opined bitterly, "I'm never coming back to the Ottawa Blues Festival. It's lost its intimacy."
"Remember John Prine last year?" my mother said. "Now THAT was a show."
If you will do me the pleasure, allow me to use the rest of this screed to write an open blog post to Van Morrison.
~~~
Dearest Van,
Hello, Mystical Sailor. Your album "Moondance" from 1971 has become a core part of my musical history, bringing back Proustian levels of childhood memories with each listen. My parents practically raised me on your works. Up until today, I would consider myself a big fan of Van.
You should consider your options. If you are going to piss all over your legacy by putting on heartless, soulless soul performances at Big Ticket Festivals, then retire. Leave the stage to people who actually give a damn.
Yes, Van, I'm aware that you've been in the music business for decades. Why should you listen to me? What do I know? I'm an unwashed, mostly broke troubador with greasy hair and some drug problems. I don't even know my scales on guitar. I get bad gas on regular occasion. Still, I know that I want my music served hot, steaming hot, not bland and tasteless like a bag full of Rice Cakes.
How come people in your age group like Eric Clapton can still put their heart into it? I saw him at Corel Centre in the fall of '06 and he thundered his way through classics like "Layla" and "Cocaine" as if the Rock and Roll gods were holding a '45 to his temple. And don't blame the sobriety. Clapton has been clean and sober since his son fell out that window.
Point is, some people play music because they love it. You used to. What happened to that moony, pukey, bittersweet poet, that powerful little mountain of a man? Is your reservoir depleted? Are you punching a clock? I sincerely hope that this was just a fluke and not representative of all of your shows these days.
Let your spirit fly!
-JB
After unloading their luggage at the Quality Inn on Rideau Street, we took a bus towards LeBreton Flats, a large field near the water where the Ottawa Blues Festival is being held this year.
On the way, I struck up a conversation with a long-haired street person who was also going to the concert. He had been entertaining the entire bus with his personal take on "Brown Eyed Girl" only minutes earlier. I asked him if he was looking forward to the show. "I don't have the fifty bucks," he said. "But I'm going to be up on the hill sitting and listening. If it rains, I'll be standing." I advised him to find a hole in the fence to gate-crash. "Oh no," he said quickly. "I'm not that kind of guy."
Before long, we were at the site and joined one of two enormous lines of people waiting to be admitted to the show. Ottawaians are always prepared, like Boy Scouts, and most of them brandished a ticket bought in advance. The lines moved relatively slowly but we were in after 30 minutes or so.
Standing about 100 feet from the stage, I surveyed the scene. It was certainly a good turnout. By my rough count, at least 30 thousand people showed up to stand in circles and talk about office politics (more on this later) while drinking the reasonably priced Molson Canadian ($5.50 per cup, which is less than I have seen on Ile-Jean-Drapeau in Montreal).
A prozac-blunted middle-aged blonde P.R. flack took the stage and began cooing at the crowd. "We've been waiting for him for over 42 years...Van MORRISON!" Of course, he didn't appear for several more minutes since he apparently begins all his shows at the scheduled time of 7:30 PM, not a minute sooner nor later.
As he & his band of seasoned professionals took the stage, the crowd cheered weakly and then resumed chatting. This irritated my parents, veteran hippy rock-and-roll troopers who had been at Isle of Wight to see Jimi Hendrix and up front in NYC to catch the Doors, and my usually pacifist father began to grumble. "I hope these people don't talk during the show."
Van's voice has gotten deeper in the past 4 decades, and as he wobbled through his opening number (which was a bluesy sort of bop), I remarked that he rarely used his higher register, leaving it to his 30-year old backup singers.
On the two video screens, you could see him in his white fedora, eyes glued shut, sipping from a water bottle between songs. He only said 6 words during the whole set as far as I can tell--and that was at the end of the show, ie. "Let's hear it for the band"--and I was disappointed that I had caught an artist of his calibre on autopilot.
As the set dragged on, my parents began to whisper that the crowd was ruining the show. Although we were by no means far back, it was plain to see that many of the people were treating the show as if it were a social schmooze-fest. Some weren't even facing the stage, preferring to talk to Judy from Accounting about her new 2008 Highlander while sipping from a $6 glass of red wine. "I want to hit the guys behind us," said my father, teeth clenched. My mom silenced him and tried to dance in this sea of talking squares.
When Van began singing "Into the Mystic", my current favourite from his back catalogue, my hopes bloomed for a spell. "Maybe he'll let loose," I thought. Instead, he limped through the song with all the ferocity of a pampered housecat, phoning it in like some post-alcoholic lounge singer. By this point, I realized that half of the problem was the rinky-dink sound system.
I've never organized a major music festival but I have been to several, including Maximum Blues in Carleton, PQ and Osheaga in Montreal. I've never been so disappointed with the sound levels before. Despite what Patrick "50 bucks will get you 4 stars" Langston said on the front page of the Ottawa Citizen, the music was barely audible through most of the crowd, although Van's vocals were clear and rose above the mix.
Why didn't someone from the mainstream press point this out? How much money has exchanged hands for someone to print a lie like this, courtesy of Langston from the Ottawa Citizen (italics mine):
"Clean and crisp from almost anywhere on the grounds, it was good enough that most fans said they didn't care that they could only see Morrison and his band by watching the two large, bright video screens looking out over the grassed rectangular site."
One bright point was the tight performance of Van's backing band. Though I had to strain to hear them at all, they were definately on time and faithful to his Celtic Soul and rhythm & blues stylings.
I am sure the folks at the front of the stage, ie. within spitting distance of Van's Gucci loafers, got to hear it but for the rest of us, all 29 thousand of us, this concert was a bust. Even mildly upbeat performances of "Brown Eyed Girl" and "Gloria" didn't silence the chattering fools, and as Van exited stage right at 9 PM with no encores, my father opined bitterly, "I'm never coming back to the Ottawa Blues Festival. It's lost its intimacy."
"Remember John Prine last year?" my mother said. "Now THAT was a show."
If you will do me the pleasure, allow me to use the rest of this screed to write an open blog post to Van Morrison.
~~~
Dearest Van,
Hello, Mystical Sailor. Your album "Moondance" from 1971 has become a core part of my musical history, bringing back Proustian levels of childhood memories with each listen. My parents practically raised me on your works. Up until today, I would consider myself a big fan of Van.
You should consider your options. If you are going to piss all over your legacy by putting on heartless, soulless soul performances at Big Ticket Festivals, then retire. Leave the stage to people who actually give a damn.
Yes, Van, I'm aware that you've been in the music business for decades. Why should you listen to me? What do I know? I'm an unwashed, mostly broke troubador with greasy hair and some drug problems. I don't even know my scales on guitar. I get bad gas on regular occasion. Still, I know that I want my music served hot, steaming hot, not bland and tasteless like a bag full of Rice Cakes.
How come people in your age group like Eric Clapton can still put their heart into it? I saw him at Corel Centre in the fall of '06 and he thundered his way through classics like "Layla" and "Cocaine" as if the Rock and Roll gods were holding a '45 to his temple. And don't blame the sobriety. Clapton has been clean and sober since his son fell out that window.
Point is, some people play music because they love it. You used to. What happened to that moony, pukey, bittersweet poet, that powerful little mountain of a man? Is your reservoir depleted? Are you punching a clock? I sincerely hope that this was just a fluke and not representative of all of your shows these days.
Let your spirit fly!
-JB
Monday, May 21, 2007
Philip Shearing invited you to the event "Chemical Swings, Kieran Blake & New California Republic @ ...
Philip invited you to "Chemical Swings, Kieran Blake & New California Republic @ 1221 Crescent" on Friday, June 1 at 9:00pm.
Event: Chemical Swings, Kieran Blake & New California Republic @ 1221 Crescent
"Phil's 27th birthday shindig/boozefest/rock show"
What: Performance
Host: Philip Shearing
When: Friday, June 1 at 9:00pm
Where: 1221 Crescent Street Pub (Corner St-Catherine)
To see more details and RSVP, follow the link below:
http://www.facebook.com/p.php?i=777670709&k=f29af87753
Now everyone can join Facebook, even if you couldn't before. To register, go to:
http://www.facebook.com/p.php?i=777670709&k=f29af87753&r
Thanks,
The Facebook Team
___________________
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Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Friday, December 29, 2006
20 years
We skirt the issues, clothe them in silk
and disregard the painted signs
You perch on kiss-yous, loaded with guilt
You turn the tainted blood to wine
I could become your ravenous joy
We'd make the town turn ox-blood red
Our children would build their own new toys
If we could smile outside our bed...
You are not god, you're not the prince
Evacuate the sunny beach
We've been the cod, our fins in splints
Emasculate the hungry leach
Engage our conscience 'till it's full
We've waited ages for your gall
It's time for real sailors to pull
because the sky's about to squall.
and disregard the painted signs
You perch on kiss-yous, loaded with guilt
You turn the tainted blood to wine
I could become your ravenous joy
We'd make the town turn ox-blood red
Our children would build their own new toys
If we could smile outside our bed...
You are not god, you're not the prince
Evacuate the sunny beach
We've been the cod, our fins in splints
Emasculate the hungry leach
Engage our conscience 'till it's full
We've waited ages for your gall
It's time for real sailors to pull
because the sky's about to squall.
Paparazzi
Phony barnyard photo-shoots,
sponsored by the lucky brands.
If the readers were astute,
they would incarcerate their hands.
We are not a pantomime.
People can still use their hearts.
Being famous ain't a crime.
Just keep the ass before the cart!
Hormone soup is ankle-deep,
those plastic grins turn to ice.
Smile to try to fight the sleep,
the maze is lost in all the mice.
Smile and make us think you love,
bring us herbs and tumbleweed.
Make us shame our only loves,
and lick our flesh to taste our needs.
~~~
The only clean mothafucka is Hollywood! Got some change for a brotha from anotha motha? Let me know how the real deal gets a feel, y'all.
sponsored by the lucky brands.
If the readers were astute,
they would incarcerate their hands.
We are not a pantomime.
People can still use their hearts.
Being famous ain't a crime.
Just keep the ass before the cart!
Hormone soup is ankle-deep,
those plastic grins turn to ice.
Smile to try to fight the sleep,
the maze is lost in all the mice.
Smile and make us think you love,
bring us herbs and tumbleweed.
Make us shame our only loves,
and lick our flesh to taste our needs.
~~~
The only clean mothafucka is Hollywood! Got some change for a brotha from anotha motha? Let me know how the real deal gets a feel, y'all.
My Return
Ten thousand delving debutantes,
with spaghetti hair that glowed blood black
Expressed their deepest needs and wants,
while the dish-washer hung in the back.
His hands were wrinkled pink latrines,
the soap made them become bivouacs.
They slept on soapy miles of clean
Ate the whole diner in Chilliwack
I had the school before grade 2.
They forced me to behave askant.
My principal lost all his shoes,
We hid his camera at the dance.
~~~
Feed me critical chicken MacNuggets.
with spaghetti hair that glowed blood black
Expressed their deepest needs and wants,
while the dish-washer hung in the back.
His hands were wrinkled pink latrines,
the soap made them become bivouacs.
They slept on soapy miles of clean
Ate the whole diner in Chilliwack
I had the school before grade 2.
They forced me to behave askant.
My principal lost all his shoes,
We hid his camera at the dance.
~~~
Feed me critical chicken MacNuggets.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Perpetual Distractions
I haven't blogged in ages. I've been working hard at the Deaf Relay job, ordering pizzas and doing phone sex--it is hard to explain, you had to be there etc.--but I realize that I haven't cursed you with an entry in many moons.
The music thing is going well... recently, we've been promised recording time, provided sans contrat, assuming that we can afford to manufacture 500 CDs and sell them while paying back the financier. We also have a show pending at 1221 Crescent Street Pub, scheduled for New Years Eve...I guess that would be the 30th of December, or maybe the 31st ??? I am not calendar equipped at this moment (excluding the Windows thing and there is no way I am clicking a mouse during this typing extravaganza.)
Once my internet connection is resurrected (praise Ethernet) I will be posting a little more regularily. I am sure that my former readers have disowned me, left me for dead, and ejaculated on my grave. Such is how business goes. Understood. In the meantime, watch Stephen Colbert every weeknight and drink as much alcohol as you can without missing your rent deadline.
I love every single person that breathes on this mispelled planett.
The music thing is going well... recently, we've been promised recording time, provided sans contrat, assuming that we can afford to manufacture 500 CDs and sell them while paying back the financier. We also have a show pending at 1221 Crescent Street Pub, scheduled for New Years Eve...I guess that would be the 30th of December, or maybe the 31st ??? I am not calendar equipped at this moment (excluding the Windows thing and there is no way I am clicking a mouse during this typing extravaganza.)
Once my internet connection is resurrected (praise Ethernet) I will be posting a little more regularily. I am sure that my former readers have disowned me, left me for dead, and ejaculated on my grave. Such is how business goes. Understood. In the meantime, watch Stephen Colbert every weeknight and drink as much alcohol as you can without missing your rent deadline.
I love every single person that breathes on this mispelled planett.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
After the Goldrush Pt. I
I watch the jug of milk
and sit patiently as untold minions skim off the cream
Aphids are crawling in my hair
Singing top 40 tunes toodley-doo
but I rarely flinch
My castle is all bent stones and torn shrouds
I can't even muster a force of 10 men
Without an heir nor a queen
my meals are small and mere trifles
But I dream fermented grapes with great gusto
Plus... my inkblot venn diagrams are disappearing
I spend more time in line for wine
than I do spraying parapaint on the pixelboard
The echoes are unbearable
and my hands are twisted little wrecks
Can I still see healthy?
Do my toes turn blue next with rectangle keychains?
Is this jungle going to make me melt?
Does anyone still believe?
and sit patiently as untold minions skim off the cream
Aphids are crawling in my hair
Singing top 40 tunes toodley-doo
but I rarely flinch
My castle is all bent stones and torn shrouds
I can't even muster a force of 10 men
Without an heir nor a queen
my meals are small and mere trifles
But I dream fermented grapes with great gusto
Plus... my inkblot venn diagrams are disappearing
I spend more time in line for wine
than I do spraying parapaint on the pixelboard
The echoes are unbearable
and my hands are twisted little wrecks
Can I still see healthy?
Do my toes turn blue next with rectangle keychains?
Is this jungle going to make me melt?
Does anyone still believe?
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Eight Thousand Apologies
I have been negligent of late, leading some to believe that my life was in jeopardy/I had dropped out of contention for the least desirable scene-invader on the whole island of Montreal. Never fear! I am not only in the running... I am a whorish malcontent with too much time on his hands who's still begging to have your ear, if only for a brief, auto-erotic second.
First off, one of my recent exploits is interviewing The Cloud Room alongside my love of loves, Phyllis. We were most effective in our quest to: A) get them totally intoxicated, courtesy of Canadian Journalists; B) reach into the pits of their souls and steal their mojo, only to share it with the readers of a major publication somewhere. Looks like it will be Rage Magazine, unless it doesn't happen and we end up putting it in the Mirror or the Hour. I'm not expecting remuneration but they definately expect dedication.
I couldn't have done it without Phyllis (right- picture). She has quite the pen and she knows how to hurl questions at bands like hot pieces of metal. I am most lucky to be working with a hack of her caliber--we are meant to be together like the moon deserves the fortnight, two media-peas (press???) in an IPod. Some bands put up that cool barrier but people like Phyllis know how to dig underneath of it.
Secondly, my new band is on the go. I have a virtuosic drummer worth his his salt and a snazzy new bass player, plus a couple of other artists waiting in the wings. Besides looking for a lead guitarist, we're writing songs and playing the occasional show. I will keep you posted.
Lastly, I have a practice space/party space/venue available for rent. Please let me know if you are interested in having a spot that can hold about two to two hundred fifty people or if you need an affordable place to practice in Montreal, PQ (my number is 514-242-9840...call me anytime!). Cheers.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Monday, January 09, 2006
Thinking of voting Conservative, Canada?
"However, let me just make two predictions. One is that Canada will be profoundly changed in the next five to ten years. I just don't believe the confederation we have today will look the same.
Whether Quebec separates or not, there are going to be very major changes.
The second thing is that Canada, in spite of its ongoing social democratic, welfare-state mentality, will continue to move to the right on fiscal, economic and social policy, with minor deviations, because that's the way the world is going.
When Canadians face the choice of either preserving their welfare state or adapting themselves to the world economy, they always, at times of crisis, choose to adapt themselves to the world economy."
-Stephen Harper speaking to American thinktank, Canadian Conservative leader, 1997
According to Mr. Harper, our great nation is in a perilous situation, despite the fact that the Liberals have gotten us budget surpluses for close to a decade:
"(Canada is) a Northern European welfare state in the worst sense of the
term, and very proud of it. Canadians make no connection between the fact that they are a Northern European welfare state and the fact that we have very low economic growth, a standard of living substantially lower than yours, a massive brain drain of young professionals to your country, and double the unemployment rate of the United States.
In terms of the unemployed, of which we have over a million-and-a-half, don't feel particularly bad for many of these people. They don't feel bad about it themselves, as long as they're receiving generous social assistance and unemployment insurance."
Do we really want this kook as our leader? America's recent experiments with neoconservativism should give us a hint. Admittedly, the Liberal Party ain't perfect, but at least they know how to balance the books and keep social spending at a reasonable level.
What are your thoughts on the election? Please comment below.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Then & Now
(Click the links 'Then' & 'Now' or else the whole text is confusing!)
Then
&
now.
The former were a band of individuals who resisted an occupation that they disagreed with.
The latter are the same.
The former believed that their ties to the land went beyond the oppressive fist that tried to take what was theirs--in this case, taxes--and rose up to strike down the mercenaries that held them at bay with their guns and artillery.
So do the latter, only they seem to prefer roadside bombings and mortar attacks (along with rocket propelled grenades and AK-47's...it is the future, after all).
The former founded a nation that believed in freedom, prosperity, and the equality of man (as long as that man wasn't a woman, or black).
The latter are being oppressed by the great-great-great grandchildren of the former.
I'm inclined to believe that the insurgency in Iraq is doing a good thing--killing civilians aside, which I vehemently oppose--and even if I despise the idea of a fundamentalist Islamic state in Iraq, what do you expect when it is invaded by the Christian States of America? Are they all going to lie down and eat the body of Christ? It's not happening.
At least the Iraqis are fighting for their nation's freedom: freedom from control by foreign powers; freedom from economic manipulation by oil hungry tyrants; above all, freedom to choose their own form of sovereignty. Like the Minutemen over two hundred years before, the Iraqis will have their day, and America will close her bases in Baghdad and move to some other desert, likely to conquer more brown people to take their oil.
So it goes.
That's what happens when you watch a 1-hour Michael Moore speech. He does things to your head. (Ann Coulter already diagnosed me. I am definately a psychotic of some sort. Can somebody please send me some percoset?)
Then
&
now.
The former were a band of individuals who resisted an occupation that they disagreed with.
The latter are the same.
The former believed that their ties to the land went beyond the oppressive fist that tried to take what was theirs--in this case, taxes--and rose up to strike down the mercenaries that held them at bay with their guns and artillery.
So do the latter, only they seem to prefer roadside bombings and mortar attacks (along with rocket propelled grenades and AK-47's...it is the future, after all).
The former founded a nation that believed in freedom, prosperity, and the equality of man (as long as that man wasn't a woman, or black).
The latter are being oppressed by the great-great-great grandchildren of the former.
I'm inclined to believe that the insurgency in Iraq is doing a good thing--killing civilians aside, which I vehemently oppose--and even if I despise the idea of a fundamentalist Islamic state in Iraq, what do you expect when it is invaded by the Christian States of America? Are they all going to lie down and eat the body of Christ? It's not happening.
At least the Iraqis are fighting for their nation's freedom: freedom from control by foreign powers; freedom from economic manipulation by oil hungry tyrants; above all, freedom to choose their own form of sovereignty. Like the Minutemen over two hundred years before, the Iraqis will have their day, and America will close her bases in Baghdad and move to some other desert, likely to conquer more brown people to take their oil.
So it goes.
That's what happens when you watch a 1-hour Michael Moore speech. He does things to your head. (Ann Coulter already diagnosed me. I am definately a psychotic of some sort. Can somebody please send me some percoset?)
Thursday, October 27, 2005
America, Land of the "Woefully Misinformed"
"In December 1994, 57% of Americans had not heard of Newt Gingrich. In 1964, 62% of Americans believed the USSR was a member of NATO. Most Americans can't name any of their congressmen. Polls consistently show that a majority of Americans believe simultaneously that the federal government is too large and powerful, and that spending in almost all federal programs should be increased - that's a logical contradiction. Today, 70% do not know that a Medicare prescription drug benefit has been legislated, and 58% have heard 'very little' or 'nothing' about the USA Patriot Act. In 2000 only 57% of Americans knew that Gore was more liberal than Bush."
-Jason Sorens, PH.D.,Speech to SUNY-Fredonia Students & Faculty, October 21, 2005.
Statistics like these ones tend to make me shiver like the winds that blow on the coldest days of our fierce Canadian winters. I'm not saying that all Americans are as 'out of the loop' as the ones mentioned in these statistics, but that is precisely why things are going bad south of the 49th parallel lately--Katrina & Rita excluded, which were probably due to the oft-denied Global Warming that is causing weather patterns to become more chaotic--no, America is treading calmly towards becoming a corporation state, where the richest make the decisions and the poor hold up the ceiling of the house.
Democracy, or at least the strange hybrid we have turned it into, depends squarely upon the political involvement and ability to reason by most (if not all) of the citizens. When only the elite have the reins of power, they are bound to lead the rest of us astray.
What can be done to remind America that it is responsible for its own future? The populace must be reached somehow, not with attack ads or partisan pandering, but a genuine movement that will reach out to Americans of all walks of life and educate them about the political landscape.
If not, don't be surprised when China et al. begin to buy up your businesses, your land, and God-forbid, foreclose on the billions of dollars of debt owed to them for the past 5 years of excessive American spending. Also, you should definately learn how to speak Chinese, or even Japanese. The bosses will expect to be spoken to in their native language. The easy way out is teaching Americans how to vote (instead of staying home on voting day and letting extremists win)and teaching people about the laws that exist to protect their freedom and prosperity.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Bin Laden Didn't Blow Up the Projects
Since I haven't been updating as of late, here is the best rapper on earth, Immortal Technique. Enjoy these lyrics and buy/download/steal this song if you can.
Peace & excuse the N word.
~~~
Peace & excuse the N word.
~~~
[Mos Def - talking]
Man, you hear this bullshit they be talkin'
Every day, man
It's like these motherfuckers is just like professional liars
YouknowwhatI'msayin? It's wild
Listen
[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
[Verse 1 - Immortal Technique]
I pledge no allegiance, nigga fuck the president's speeches
I'm baptized by America and covered in leeches
The dirty water that bleaches your soul and your facial features
Drownin' you in propaganda that they spit through the speakers
And if you speak about the evil that the government does
The Patriot Act'll track you to the type of your blood
They try to frame you, and say you was tryna sell drugs
And throw a federal indictment on niggaz to show you love
This shit is run by fake Christians, fake politicians
Look at they mansions, then look at the conditions you live in
All they talk about is terrorism on television
They tell you to listen, but they don't really tell you they mission
They funded Al-Qaeda, and now they blame the Muslim religion
Even though Bin Laden, was a CIA tactician
They gave him billions of dollars, and they funded his purpose
Fahrenheit 9/11, that's just scratchin' the surface
[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
[Verse 2 - Immortal Technique]
They say the rebels in Iraq still fight for Saddam
But that's bullshit, I'll show you why it's totally wrong
Cuz if another country invaded the hood tonight
It'd be warfare through Harlem, and Washington Heights
I wouldn't be fightin' for Bush or White America's dream
I'd be fightin' for my people's survival and self-esteem
I wouldn't fight for racist churches from the south, my nigga
I'd be fightin' to keep the occupation out, my nigga
You ever clock someone who talk shit, or look at you wrong?
Imagine if they shot at you, and was rapin' your moms
And of course Saddam Hussein had chemical weapons
We sold him that shit, after Ronald Reagan's election
Mercenary contractors fightin' a new era
Corporate military bankin' off the war on terror
They controllin' the ghetto, with the failed attack
Tryna distract the fact that they engineerin' the crack
So I'm strapped like Lee Malvo holdin' a sniper rifle
These bullets'll touch your kids, and I don't mean like Michael
Your body be sent to the morgue, stripped down and recycled
I fire on house niggaz that support you and like you
Cuz innocent people get murdered in the struggle daily
And poor people never get shit and struggle daily
This ain't no alien conspiracy theory, this shit is real
Written on the dollar underneath the Masonic seal
(I don't rap for dead presidents
I'd rather see the president dead
It's never been said but I set precedents)--[Eminem]
[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
(Shady Records was 80 seconds away from the towers
Some cowards fucked with the wrong building, they meant to hit ours)-- [Eminem]
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
4 Excuses For My Haphazard Updates of Late
Friends, women, countrymen...lend me your eyes.
I have been gone for many blue moons, only tossing rubbish and band promotion at you all instead of penning incendiary political criticism or interviews with Montreal's music illuminati. While some would attribute my lack of output to my lazy, id-feeding habits, I would argue that the following 4 excuses will get me off Scott-free.
I have been gone for many blue moons, only tossing rubbish and band promotion at you all instead of penning incendiary political criticism or interviews with Montreal's music illuminati. While some would attribute my lack of output to my lazy, id-feeding habits, I would argue that the following 4 excuses will get me off Scott-free.
- Concordia University Skipping classes is a hard thing to do, both for students and non-students alike. Although I have missed a couple along the way, I have really been attending history and religion classes this semester, seriously depleting both my free time and my will to spend hours in front of a computer taking literary sniper shots at the Big Brother Inc. scum south of my border.
- The Dissonants We have been playing a lot of shows recently (with the Redscare, Silent Film Soundtrack, Rio Bent, and most recently Death of Fashion) but this will change very soon. [Ed. Note: The Dissonants broke up on Wednesday, September 28th. It was an amicable split and the guys will probably get drunk together every so often as pals. Phil Shearing is going to pursue a solo project and as of press time, the rumour was that Armen Forget was starting a new band with his old singer, Phil (a different Phil, with longer hair). Nikos may be involved but this could not be confirmed.]
- Recreational intoxicants When you're as high as a 747, it is quite difficult to actually sit down at a keyboard to contribute anything of use to humanity. Think Pete Doherty, only I don't do crack or heroin. It's really crap, anyway. My new plan is to focus on smoking dope only once a week, drinking whenever it pleases me, and staying away from Colombian seductresses who leave your wallet sore and your throat torn up the day after.
- Interviews in the Concordia Link Since the beginning of the semester, I've interviewed two bands/musicians. The first was Whiskeytrench and turned out to be a great piece, but I missed my deadline and my editor gave the assignment to someone else. The second piece was with Beaver. That guy is one inspiring sonofabitch, in the nicest way possible. He deserves to be a megastar, or at least a new Leonard Cohen or something.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Panacea & The Dissonants @ 1221 Crescent Street Pub, Sat. Aug. 27th
~~~
Missed the Aug. 20th gig? Alternately, if you were there but want another dose of noxious Dissonance, then, by all means, please come this Saturday! (Way too many commas in that last phrase but I digress.)
~~~
Panacea & The Dissonants
Aug. 27th, 2005
1221 Crescent Street Pub
Doors @ 8 PM
Free!
Friday, August 19, 2005
The Redscare, Rio Bent & the Dissonants @ 1221 Crescent Street Pub - Sat. Aug. 20th
~~~
The Redscare, Rio Bent, & the Dissonants.
1221 Crescent Street Pub
Sat. Aug. 20th, 9 PM.
Free.
More info after the jump.
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