we're playing with these guys next Wednesday at the Velvet Underground.

i was wondering how long i could hide under my desk at work without anyone noticing and... after approximately 3.5 giddy minutes, i gave up. record to be broken at a later date.

dionysus takes one for the team

from the front to back

wedding numéro trois pour 2009.

once again raymi the minx tells it like it is in her latest rant called How I Feel About Taken Men Going To Strip Clubs. thank god. she has elucidated what i myself, and presumably many other women, have been wanting to put into words FOREVES.

favourite excerpts include:

here’s the thing, if you are going to get wasted and party with strippers then i am going to get wasted and strip for men. i’m going to perv out all over them. if you are going to celebrate with loose women then i will be loose with men.

and

i suppose it’s the narcissist in me that craves that sort of attention and there is no feminist justification (excuse) behind it at all, it is purely animal at base, simple. men want to look and women want to be that package they look at. i want MY man to look AT ME in that way and if he walks out the door to look at another woman in that way, i see that as a failure.

read the whole thing here.

today is my friend tom's 30th birthday. tom has been a dear friend to me over the past 10 years. he is a seer. he is ahead of his time. he is moving at a million miles a minute yet is as acute as the milliseconds of time allow. he doesn't miss much. he also constitutes the viewership of this blog.

this is a picture of a burning schoolhouse tom set off in my backyard a couple years ago when i was super depressed. i had a bunch of friends over for some wine and fish and laughs. though i tried to hide my impermeable mood at the time, the all knowing tom, in his unending talent for perception and tact, asked me shortly thereafter if everything was alright, that i had seemed 'wistful'... making sure, as he does, that i was ok.

the firecracker was positioned on one of our cherry trees and when tom lit it, it spewed fire all through the trees and towards the house and the picnic table where we were sitting. i ran inside the house and watched from our back stairs in unprecedented terror while the others remained outside screaming with laughter.

why this should be the perfect anecdote to illustrate my friendship with tom, i'm not really sure. i think it's about the degree to which his gifts have provided me with experiences this terrific. he has always demonstrated a confidence in the unknown; he has shown me time and again that wildfire eventually, to my disbelief, does dissipate.

i am so thankful for you tom! happy birthday!

stink roid and the school of oh, how i wish you were beer

todd davidson

sitting by the fire

from here to there

sit in that place and get lost in the painting. that spot in the background, just beyond the light where the narrow breaks open. pass from here to there. have sips, take off your blouse and say to no one in particular, drink slow my love. you'll get the vultures and beasts in no time. soak in. the mid, deep and gone airs will wait. ne suck dry pas. numbers 5:2 has all those unclean by the dead outside the camp, that they defile not the camp where the clean dwells. go not there now but through this wall here instead.

photo by neil mcmullin

by inersha faye

I'm finally wrapping up The Conquest of Happiness by Bertrand Russell. It looks like it was written in 1930. The guy is really so rational that it makes for quite an easy read. I highly recommend it. The second chapter begins,

It is common in our day, as it has been in many other periods of the world's history, to suppose that those among us who are wise have seen through all the enthusiasms of earlier times and have become aware that there is nothing left to live for. The men who hold this view are genuinely unhappy, but they are proud of their unhappiness, which they attribute to the nature of the universe and consider to be the only rational attitude for an enlightened man. Their pride in their unhappiness makes less sophisticated people suspicious of its genuineness: they think that the man who enjoys being miserable is not miserable. This view is too simple; undoubtedly there is some slight compensation in the feeling of superiority and insight which these sufferers have, but it is not sufficient to make up for the loss of simpler pleasures. I do not myself think that there is any superior rationality in being unhappy. The wise man will be as happy as circumstances permit, and if he finds the contemplation of the universe painful beyond a point, he will contemplate something else instead. This is what I wish to prove in the present chapter. I wish to persuade the reader that, whatever the arguments may be, reason lays no embargo upon happiness; nay more, I am persuaded that those who quite sincerely attribute their sorrows to their views about the universe are putting the cart before the horse: the truth is that they are unhappy for some reason of which they are not aware, and this unhappiness leads them to dwell upon the less agreeable characteristics of the world in which they live.

how we feel affects what we see.

heather's getting married today. it is the 4th of july. it is 2009.

i've been staying at vanessa's while she is in peru. this place is like a dream. i'm lying on her deck. it is sunny. i can hear the wind in the leaves.

i'm good at this- lazing outside, waiting for my eggs to boil, my spinach to cook.

from here, i'd never know about a city that waits below. the only imminent threat is a bee or two but i play tricks on myself to forget.

garfield minus garfield

May 11, 2009
21:11:57
Toronto City Centre Airport

-Just put it in the mail.
-You guys can't be nice about this.
-I was away a few days and I tried to forget about those problems.
-Forgive me but you were really winded coming up the steps.
-That's it. It's the only chance we get.
-I got your mom's number so I don't need to write it down.
-What wrong with fifteen different things?!
-It's fine!
-My only question for you is were your serious, is it an option?
-Look, I'm travelling right now but I don't usually forget these things.

-He says he's serious.
-I just wanna make sure it's legal.
-That's your personal decision. Your own personal decision.
-But they do put animals to sleep.
-No. I have a book but I don't want to read it.
-It was all paid by donations. Not by me.
-Marty can be really nice.

this is no place for hearts

and in 3D!

the latest in my series of verbatim is an audio visual tribute to john cage's 4′33″. i call it 10.5 inches.


10.5 inches

1st Movement
[The office. 2:55pm on a hot Tuesday in June. The weather we've all been waiting for offstage. Johanna, Jennifer and Amy each siting in isolation stage left. Enter Natasha, Irene and Phil stage right. No one speaks.]






2nd Movement
[Enter Mark and Teddy stage left. More silence.]


















3rd Movement
[Enter Giles upstage centre. The silence deepens.]











[Exeunt all except Amy.]
Fin

installation by mark dean veca

I'm a dirty dog
I'm an outlaw
Quick on the draw
Somethin' you've never seen before
And I dare a motherfucker to come in my face
I got somethin' chrome
And I got it from home
And it ain't a microphone
And I dare a motherfucker to come in my face

It's so real
It's how I feel
It's this society
That makes a nigga wanna kill
I'm just straight ill
Ridin' my motorcycle down the streets
While politicians is soundin' like strippers to me
They keep sayin' but I don't wanna hear it...

Oooh baby you want me?
Well you can get this lapdance here for free

if you've ever wondered about the genius behind any bach composition...

draw a song

this is a great & free 5 minutes of fun. i know... it's in spanish. poor anglo us. click the upper left corner where it says Pintando una Canción.

these guys're the best!

Did you hear about this terribly uncanny turn of fate?

An Italian woman who was supposed to catch the Air France Flight that crashed into the Atlantic on May 31st arrived late at the airport, missed the flight, and was killed the following day in a car crash.

Read about it here. Coincidence?

twisted hora starter

bryan and i went to michal's wedding about a month ago in NY- i was a bridesmaid and i gave a speech and i didn't plan ahead for it AT ALL. always a clown, never the bride.

all legs today but close to the floor. maybe about to fall. dragging soles and clapping toes. in black but not on monday. in blue but not today. low could live in hope or lo could marry behold. could go either way, really. embarrassed, the waiting is over and the brimming of grey cotton candies has drooped to a drop. it's wet out on my street and for this i am proud but quiet.

you're the next whiskey bar i said outta nowhere then showed my teeth and closed my eyes, then opened them again and waited. i made sure my fork and knife were completely parallel then put my hands in my lap and gazed at my nails then told myself my fingers looked childish. i waited some more. then i waited and waited and waited. then the poutine arrived and i devoured it in an instant and i really mean devoured. barely came up for air, just kept diving back in, over and over. when i was done, a full plastic cup of water was waiting by my left hand and i devoured it too. when that was done i stared straight ahead and tried to decide if i felt different.

keep it purrrdy

i'll be dyin' in the 50s if the rain don't get me first.

from viceland

Dance like nobody’s watching. Love like you’ve never been hurt. Sing like nobody’s listening. Fall asleep in a children’s playground with a fully loaded high-powered handgun on your belt.

i'll sweep up the streets today
take your leave then look away
you need something more today
i don't mind and it's always this way

past believing, never lose that feeling

when is it our turn?

deep red dive

light outside
my window
in the sky
it does not lie
although inverted

the heap i hop
on hands until
decided is my day
and having had enough
of feeling like a loser
deep red dive
til all behind
the sails and shore

i love the moon
reflection more
while upside down

at weighted core
the pushing pour
through copper sands
sword slicing hands
divide the lunar flare

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

edit to yesterday's post- i'm not in mississauga. i'm in toronto, but barely.

i'm currently living at a hotel by the airport in mississauga.

i'm taking a health & safety course for work. day 1 was reeeeally slow. flow charts, group work, personal anecdotes, yawn. most exciting point was the title of the workbook: Staying Alive while Earning A Living.

they keep referring to me as 'sister' which makes me feel like i'm in a cult. i'm the only female in a class of 23.

photo by bee

will your computer let you listen to this beauty?

**

would you like yourself
if you knew what you have?
who do you love?

~Neil Halstead

NOW has listed us in their critics pics. We're playing a show tonight at Sneaky Dee's as part of the Pitter Patter Festival. Pay what you can.

My kick o' week has been Lord Byron's kin. Everyone's heard of him, some know his poetry and few know of his daughter Ada Lovelace who has been credited (so says the irrefutable internet machine) as the first computer programmer even before computers had been built (excluding, of course, artifacts such as the Antikythera Mechanism in keeping with popular thought which will forever exclude anything that might contradict modern theories of linear evolution).

This website that outlines Ada's life writes,

Lovelace flirted with several of her male acquaintances and there were several scandals. Her husband made sure that over 100 of her letters to such friends were destroyed. There was also a problem with over indulgence in wine which became worse when drinking with her meals changed to drinking instead of meals. At one point she considered writing a scientific study of the effects of opium and wine gained from her own experiences.

Her father, an infamous bisexual, was deemed by Lady Caroline Lamb as (cited from Terry Castle's identically titled 1997 Byron biography) "mad, bad, and dangerous to know" as a result of his countless, sordid love affairs including one with his half sister Clara Allegra Byron. It would seem, in this instance, that creativity and infidelity might be genetic. Not making excuses, just sayin.

***

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And Love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a-roving

By the light of the moon.

~Lord Byron

Silver Gelatin Print

My friend Osheen Harruthoonyan is an amazing photographic artist. Imagine this photo Tulip hung a couple feet taller than and blown up about 5 times as wide as you.

His was listed in the Globe and Mail as one of the top 5 exhibits not to be missed at CONTACT 2008 but that doesn't brush the surface of a person who is on the brink of becoming a celebrated Canadian artist.

The majority of his pieces are toned with selenium and gold meaning his images will last 200 to 300 years- a sublime contrast to thematics like memory's degradation and alteration through illness and time.

Osheen has recently updated the B-sides on his website. See my faves, ie: Pigeons, Neon and the various Untitled.

O yay. Dov Charney, American Apparel CEO and Grrrl Exploiter Extraordinaire has given Woody Allen a 5 million dollar settlement after using his unauthorized Hasidic dressed image as per Annie Hall on a billboard.

Dov claims he was commenting on our culture's need for tabloid scandals stating that "the billboards were designed to inspire dialogue. They were certainly never intended to sell clothes."

Whatever. That's why the name AMERICAN APPAREL appears on the ADVERTISEMENT. I hate AM AP and I hate that they share the first two letters of my first and last names.


On Buy Nothing Day 2005, my friends at the Montreal Infringement Festival culture jammed their way into American Apparel on Saint-Laurent only to be INFILTRATED by a MOLE who was working as an AM AP undercover security agent. I kid you not. Check it out:

My friend- posing here as Dov Charney in a bath robe- and three girls were dramatizing a faux photo shoot in protest of AM AP's exploitation of women in their ads and workers in their factories (while claiming to be all humanitarian and forward thinking) when lo and behold, Dov's ACTUAL FATHER Maurice Charney President of the Canadian chapter of American Apparel showed up.

Fathers and undercover security agents? Ya, American Apparel has nothing to hide.

god forbid you ever have to walk a mile in his shoes
cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues
then you really might know what it's like

it's all post punk.

photo by bee

glass

eyeing the dirt
on my window pane
i ran my finger
along its filth
and blackened the tip,
then surpassed the glass,
icky index extended,
past bursting buds
to beyond,
a woman crying

recently i've been coping with boredom by making myself work. i work on writing. i work on songs. then i throw them away. i work at twisting my mind into a hateful circus of everything i am incapable of. i play close attention to my persistent lack of focus. i gain purpose in my lack thereof. there are many people and things i want to be. if i could, i'd be them all. instead i go for nothing. i'm like that last bit of butter that's been chilling in the fridge past its due date. i dream of covering a hot and beautiful slice of bread that's fresh and ancient all at once but remain unmoving in the fridge with a piece of lint clinging to my jagged, stale side. a piece of lint that went unnoticed when my owner last wrapped me up in drunken disregard- a real hack job mess of ripped tin foil that's doing nothing but alternately exposing and suffocating me under the guise of protector. ha. that's right. i blame the owner. i blame the tin foil. i'll blame anything so long as i can add it to the list of things i pretend to be angry about.

happy birthday to my mom who turned 58 yesterday!

remember the piss christ? barely? me too. it was a highly controversial photograph by andres serrano from the late 80s. the artist placed a plastic crucifix in a glass of his own urine, took a picture and received 15 grand for the work. isn't it beautiful?

not like anyone's waiting for it, but i've been terrible at posting recently with los internet down at los house and for this, i apologize. that being said, does everyone already know about matt from where the hell is matt? i'm sorry. normally this type of thing should make my stomach turn but i like it. don't hate the heretic.

saw mogwai on monday night at the pheonix and they were great. had to leave before the encore for reasons unstated, unheard, unuttered. twilight sad opened and they were pretty fantastic too. gotta run already. more le later.

one of my favourite snl scripts- the bassomatic

[ open on manic Spokesman standing before his product, which rests on a table in front of him ]

Spokesman: How many times has this happened to you? You have a bass, and you're trying to find an exciting new way to prepare it for the dinner table. You could scale the bass, remove the bass' tail, head and bones, and serve the fish as you would any other fish dinner. But why bother, now that you can use Rovco's amazing new kitchen tool, the Super Bass-o-Matic '76. Yes, fish-eaters, the days of troublesome scaling, cutting and gutting are over, because Super Bass-o-Matic '76 is the tool that lets you use the bass with no fish waste, and without scaling, cutting or gutting.

Here's how it works: Catch a bass, remove the hook, and drop the bass - that's the whole bass - into the Super Bass-o-Matic '76. [ drops the bass into the blender ] Now, adjust the control dial so that the bass is blended just the way you like it. [ turns blender on and grinds it to a pulp ] Yes, it's that simple! [ cut to Bass-Drinker on another part of the set ]

Bass-Drinker: [drinks a glassful of bass ] Wow, that's terrific bass! [ cut back to Spokesman ]

Spokesman: We've got fish here, fast and easy and ready to pour, mmm-mmm! Super Bass-o-Matic '76 comes with ten interchangeable rotors, a nine-month guarantee, and a booklet: 1,001 Ways to Harness Bass. Super Bass-o-Matic '76 works great on sunfish, perch, sole, and other small aquatic creatures. [ blends one of each ] Super Bass-o-Matic '76 - it's clean, simple, and after five or ten fish, it gets to be quite a rush! Super Bass-o-Matic '76 - you'll never have to scale, cut or gut again! [ fade ]

wonderful terrible

this is a shot of the backyard of my house at the height of our April 17th party. 4 bands played my living room and nothing's been the same since.

Little India
au jour d'hui
13:00

-I left the tag that said 120$US even though I got it on sale.
-It's a lot of noise, really loud, not much singing... They play and have video screens around them with art.
-They were all there Jay-Z, Steve-O...
-A makeup artist at the CBC, older woman, blond? She's really sweet? She's getting married again.
-I'd like to stay forever.
-She's going to New York to work on The Bell Jar. Julia Stiles is producing it.
-I went easy. I'm not a re-loader.
-Less crunchy, more chewy, that's what she said.
-Let's say a ex girlfriend puts a song on a mixed CD for you. It can't become your favourite song, right?
-Cause there's this song Nicole really likes and I'm not going to say 'Guess who showed it to me? Rachel put it on my mixed CD.'
-No. Don't say that. What song is it?
-When Two Become One by the Spice Girls.
-Is that because of the communist factor?
-No, she's just really messy.
-How do you politely eat a sucker? You HAVE to lick it.
-Sanjay Gupta's already working on it. Don't worry.
-Don't have sex with pigs anymore than you have to. Easy.

remember how i told you i was in a band? we're playing this thursday night at the elmo. 5$. the other bands are awesome too. just sayin.

Jane Austen's version begins,

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a
good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

Jane Austen and Seth Grahame's version begins,

IT IS A TRUTH universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains
must be in want of more brains. Never was this truth more plain than
during the recent attacks at Netherfield Park, in which a household of eighteen
was slaughtered and consumed by a horde of the living dead.

What a great concept. Gets me every time.

she lives in rosedale but would like to live in the annex. many of her friends live there. this morning i almost went to montreal. almost hopped on a train with nothing. if i didn't have plans with her tomorrow, i probably would've done it. probably. probably and almost and the list of things i probably almost did.

no sleep. no food. a shell of a person. an empty person. empty of food and love and patience. sick of the daily worships. these days i feel like worshipping something else. i don't know what but something new, something unheard of that will make sense when i realize it. i think it's all part of a subconscious ploy to isolate myself. i suspect myself. suspect then isolate. then get sad at being unconnected. then refrain from laughing.

for about 30 seconds every day there's some kind of peace. i'd like to work up to a little more than that. i need things. like water. this makes me restless. i need to keep the repetition in effect even though it's revolting. need. i want to say i have no choice but that would be dishonest. there are tons of choices. there are only choices.

i like my potatoes with cheese. i like my black in blue. these preferences make small children laugh at me. they're laughing because i'm wearing a wool sweater in the heat. i have visions of falling. i'm on the brink, on a ledge, i don't look down, i look out. i don't imagine things like impact or the ground, i get carried away in flight. floating, drifting, soaring through a breeze. a long skirt.

i don't pay attention to whether any bugs have landed in my breakfast or whether they're creeping all through my eggs and potatoes and cheese and fruit juice stains. i just keep eating. when you get too close to people you go through them. they talk over you, look beyond you. impatience. you don't see me, i don't see you. but i'll let you tell me who i am. i'll even go so far as to let you misunderstand me then decide i misunderstand myself. i'll get confused for you, if it might help.

sam beckett was born 100 years ago today

but that doesn't mean his estate has loosened the n- n- notorious reigns.

billie whitelaw here with the first half of Not I. dedication obviously going out to vanessa.

don't want something to believe in
or i'll start driving through the red lights
i want to know if it's out of reach
to have no sense of feeling

One of life's primal situations; the game of hide and seek. Oh, the delicious thrill of hiding while the others come looking for you, the delicious terror of being discovered, but what panic when, after a long search, the others abandon you! You mustn't hide too well. You mustn't be too good at the game. The player must never be bigger than the game itself.

~Baudrillard

happy birthday michael wheeler. are you 32?

i think you might be. and if you are, then this picture from friday, the 13th of april, 2007 would've been taken 2 years ago tomorrow, the day AFTER you turned 30, almost the age i am now. is anyone else following this boredom? mike, how has it felt to share the excitement of your birthday with that of jesus' death over the past 32 years? how old was jesus when he died? please speak directly into the mic. this is not the michael wheeler i know.

you're not here to make my sad songs more sincere

i've quoted and talked about Walter Cruttenden enough to make yer eyes tear but i suspect you forget who he is. i'll never thank jordan enough for turning me onto him, probs because i don't really talk much to jordan these days and also cause jordan's a baby daddy who has more important things to worry about now. BUT. walter's a fantastic guy and i really think he's on about somethin' special...

by bryan madorsky

(for DB)

in all extremity you have reached your expiry and you really shouldn't bother any more, if you've nothing more to see in matters of security, then throw your heart like me, out to sea, to the sea

there's no transparency in this world of you and me and nowadays you say you're always bored, don't kid yourself no more, you know what you'd adore, throw your heart like me out to the sea, into the sea

to try and get it back would really mean a heart attack and you're going to have to bow out anyhow, if you're sick of misery and abundant trickery, then throw your heart to sea, out to the sea

Happy 10,818 days old to me.

Mount Everest
469 Bloor St. West
table 26, customer 1
8:48pm

-the truth is, he died of a broken heart.
-he was careless and he was careless about me.

-i think he was surprised at himself.
-i was really bitter.

-i like him... i'm very... comfortable with him... he's a nice old man.
-e harmony. chemistry is one of the little boxes you can check.
-it's so hard to say no.
-we only have sex in my bed.

- i was thinking to myself, we have a terrible relationship in the summer, we have a terrible relationship in the winter, a terrible relationship on the phone...

-you know, i like his sister very much.
-he's certainly tried to tell me it's not that many women.

-he didn't abandon me. he split.

-he's now aware that it's a dangerous thing to talk to women who are in relationships.

-they said because of the way that david behaved, we no longer want to be the god parents of your child.

-they live on david's money and they sold their cottages. no, i don't think they're rich in any way.

and today's obsession is...

Bruce Bueno de Mesquita. Let's talk about him. Then let's talk about his ideas.

Two years ago I read this article in Good Magazine. In 2007 when The New Nostradamus was published, Bueno de Mesquita had been predicting the future with 90% accuracy according to CIA evaluation and his model was deemed 97% accurate in another unnamed study.

He's a prof at NYU, a senior fellow at the Hoover Institute, has worked for the CIA, the US Department of Defense, boasts various PhDs and academic appointments... the list goes on.

He's a game theorist. He identifies a set of assumptions about an individual's motives, breaks them into logical expressions then deduces how that person will behave. And he meticulously provides more detail than traditional analysts.

Most interesting to me are the implications his model poses to the existence of free will. If our behaviours can be accurately predicted with only 3% to 10% error, how much of our behaviour can be the product of choice? If 90% to 97% of what we do is predeterminable then we are mostly the byproduct of intersecting finite factors beyond our control- or at least 90% to 97% beyond our control- and not a convergence of actual choices. Or are we?

Does choosing to focus on one possibility annihilate the slew of others surrounding it? Could the predictions Bueno de Mesquita makes influence the outcome of actual events?

The term Collective Unconscious was initially coined by Carl Jung and might be considered an offshoot from the Platonic World of Forms. While the Theory of Forms deals in epistemological and metaphysical realms, Jung’s Collective Unconscious also conceptualizes shared mental phenomenon albeit corporeal. Both, however, might agree that the mere birth of an idea is prerequisite enough for it to occur in at least a World of Forms or Collective Unconscious.

Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle and the Observer Effect- two theoretical constructs of quantum mechanics- immediately come to mind: resolving the chicken and egg predicament seems infinitely impossible by virtue of being the chicken.

I am also curious to know how Bueno de Mesquita arrives at the set of accurate initial assumptions he instantiates into his model. In reference to The Prisoner’s Dilemma, he says

Based on game theory’s assumptions about human nature, the math derived from this dilemma tells you squarely that the two goons will turn each other in.

What are game theory's assumptions about human nature? Apparently I need to read this book. If it contains a series of conditional statements pertaining to human behaviour then Amy will be a happy girl. Conditional pun intended. Conditional broken promise intended too.

The Theory of Games and Economic Behavior will have to detail the derivatives of its claims and will undoubtedly employ gobs of statistical jargon to do so. I'm off to the bookstore anyhow. I need to get to the bottom of this.

how badly do we want to see these guys play The Three Stooges?