« August 2003 | Main | October 2003 »

September 29, 2003


1. Had the most extreme pleasure of partying it up at Harvest Fest last week-end, which is why I haven't written lately, honest.

The most famous person at the party had to be Cannonball, who arrived on a mere two hours sleep, tended to the bon-fire diligently (until noon the following day), and was full of many hugs and brain-bendingly-beautiful non-sequitors. He was captured partying it up at Ba's recently re-vamped website, which is of interest for reasons difficult to convey.

(Says Ba: "this time around I am really going to try to keep it up to date" and I believe.)

2. The Walrus party was inspiring, full of distinguished looking older people and beautiful young. Canada deserves a magazine for first rate writers, but all I want to talk about is the party, and knowing what I know about google and weblogs I best be shutting my trap right now.

3. Like everything else here, this really annoying Russell Smith column is so last week, but I have to link to anyway - not sure why. Is it me, or does he give the impression 'the weblogging community' is something you can conclusively write-off after an afternoon's research? As if quality weblogging nowhere existed.

4. Also, Roger Dodger was fucking great. Ebert agrees, tho this is a three-and-a-half star movie in just about any universe.

Posted by at 12:18 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

September 19, 2003

Sexual Relativism

Interesting tid-bits culled from Sex Lover's Book of Lists by Ron Louis and David Copeland, History Laid Bare by Richard Zacks, and The Mythology of Sex by Sarah Dening. I learned things about Tasmanian widows and Peruvian alpacas and the right of the disgruntled housewives of Wroclaw, Poland, to beat or kill any woman who went near their husband, provided they did so with a club. Also, I learned for certain I won't be making it with Tschuktschi women from Siberia any time soon, though the odds of this happening always did seem curiously low.

Posted by at 12:45 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

September 18, 2003

Pirate Day

One day in a film theory class - and I've told this story too many times - an essay asserted that Jaws was best understood in the context of Watergate. At the time it pissed me off to no end, but given the state of current affairs from Brianna Lahara on down, I can't says I'm particularly surprised Pirates are the hot new thing. This should be the biggest Pirate Day in history, so I want non-stop arrghing, me maties, and stuff like that, ok everyone?

Yes - that's the best I got.

Posted by at 11:52 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack


September 11th was a Tuesday. The anniversary was a Wednesday. The CNN sponsored rehashathon that was last week fell on a Thursday. Next year is a leap year, and you just know movie-marketing people were relieved they didn't have to deal with Friday September 11th, The Release Date, until mid-way through 2009. By that time, there may well be other days of mourning to observe. We won't have forgotten this was a day briefly said to symbolize the death of irony, and then, shortly thereafter, said to be its genesis. Will we be surprised to see the date on the poster for some romantic comedy along side the face of whoever is the pre-lip-injection Meg Ryan-of-the-moment? Will anyone be so silly as to raise an eyebrow if Bruckheimer ventures near, or be so dumb as to expect the whole industry to grind to a halt because of something terrible that happened once?

For now, with two wars and two anniversaries behind us, everything outside Kabul in lawless chaos, the only secular country in the middle east home to more maniacs with a working knowledge of pipe-bombs than at any other time in human history, with Donald Rumseld's constipated smile, Dick Cheney's reptile eyes, Osama bin Laden's kooky cool, and let's not forget about Joe Shmoe too!, the idea of September 11th as an international day of mourning seems more like a joke than I would have thought possible. Hopefully by 2009, 911 will have reclaimed some of its initial meaning, in the "get up or get get get down" sense of the thing, back when coppers were sodomizers, and we were young, if you know.

Posted by at 02:56 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

September 17, 2003


One thing I've been meaning to mention for awhile now is my roommate's blog. I'm in love with a house that I found there, and as soon as I get my pay cheque I'm movin' in. There'll be a party sometime toward the end of October. Everyone's invited.

Posted by at 04:13 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

September 16, 2003

tv on bush

Thank God tv's into photoshop.


It's too much - too perfect. There are no words.

Posted by at 01:37 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 15, 2003

Duncan Tell

Duncan Tell, as in, "I love you more than Duncan Tell", is one of those things a person can hear without questioning for only so long. Certain people could go a whole lot longer, doubtless, were they not the children of loving and affectionate enunciators. "It's 'tongue can tell'?" "I know! I thought Duncan Tell was the most well-loved guy on the planet so I was like: 'Dad, do you know what this means? There's no Duncan Tell!'" Which is too bad, as he'd a been one hell of a guy.

Posted by at 08:31 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 02, 2003

Blog Love

My sister got her camera lifted and now says she's quits with the bloggin'. I felt strangely envious when she delivered the news, tho I've been less impressed recently, as that was two weeks ago and she's failed completely on the follow-through (& not for lack of effort.)

Pillage her sight at once! This offer apparently won't last!

Also, try to talk her out of it, if you don't mind. It could work. It seems like it probably won't, but it could. It could, yet she may already have made up her mind. What I'm saying is, it might be impossible, but Try it@!

Last night I talked about her blog and mine in the past tense for upwards of twenty minutes, all the while thinking: If there's one thing I do know how to do, it's destroy this thing. I know, because I've done it. Accidentally, of course, but I still remember how. In fact, thinking about just how easy it is gives me pause for thought. Invisible Horizon was just about my favourite thing on the net -- [I fucking hate it that my computer pyuts a red line under the word "favourite" - I have no problem with it under "pyuts" but grow a Canada already, TextEdit!]-- and yet I didn't bat an eyelash when she declared her intentions because... well... I just so get that impulse. Comments on this "my IQ" thread are enough to do me in, so I can't fathom how having my brand new instrument-of-creativity teefed would feel.

Mainly, when I think about following in sis's footsteps, I think: Come now, you won't always blow. "I came, I sucked, I left" is superior as a farewell-title, but surely there'll come times when the drivel feels like pouring again. Even if these times are so few and far between that writing here becomes the equivalent of talking to my own shoe, at least then I'll be in a position to vent, which can make things a bit better. October's coming soon, so I'll be inside more. Self-deprecation will become more acutely worthy of aversion. That nagging sense I've left something like a review of Cast Away sitting atop my page for two months will surely get me off my ass eventually.

So, beans, you'll have a camera again, no doubt, and when you do, you might as well share, as it's fun for all. And in the meantime, recognize the irony in an invisible horizon that won't disappear. Consider that maybe the Goddesses of Web don't approve of your fatalism. Maybe they have other plans for you. Hey everybody-- See how much I love my kid sister even though she woke me up last night and I couldn't get back to sleep until two in the morning and I had to work at 7 and all she talked about (that I can recall) was Justin Timberlake?

Which brings me to my point:

Fuck damn the Annex assholes who walked off with her hard-earned camera to take pictures of their ugly friends! Your greed is more destructive than you dreamed, and bad things - on a George W. Bush-type level - are headed your way.

It's a threat. It only sounds futile.

Posted by at 11:02 PM | Comments (10) | TrackBack