It's A Blog, Apparently.

What was that about being unemployed?

2006-06-26T17:28:00.000-04:00

Ha ha ha, job = found. I am now an official Haunted Walk of Kingston tour guide. Sweet, sweet, sweet. Looks like I found my excuse to stay in Kingston for the rest of the summer.

I win.

In order to make this post blog-worthy, I provide this:

World of ColbertCraft

Stephen Colbert plus video games? I'm SO there.

Lament of the Jobless (and a snooty music moment)

2006-06-26T01:45:00.000-04:00

My incredible once-a-month rate continues.

Perhaps this laggard post-pacing can be attributed to the fact that between my last post and this one, pretty much squat has happened. I finished my class, thus concluding the one thing that had made it impossible for me to get dragged back to Brampton. I remain embarrassingly jobless, though I am this - holding my thumb and forefinger a few millimeters apart here - this close to a job with the Haunted Walk, which'd be awesome. I think I've got a pretty good shot, based mostly on the fact that I'm a big fat loudmouth. Which, if I understand correctly, is a plus. But if that falls through, I'm up the goddamn creek, and may have to resort to - shudder - agency work.

Apropos of nothing, anyone cool should own this album.

- The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living

I can't get past how fucking awesome The Streets are, and how lame it is that fucking nobody I talk to has ever heard of them. I'm not some dumbass musical elitest who hates a band the minute anyone else likes them. I want to have music in common with people, goddamn it! Well, I guess I'll have to stick to whatever's on radio these days. I hear the All-American Rejects are popular again. Hmm. Where did I put that shotgun?

If anyone actually feels like listening to me for once, just download the songs "When You Wasn't Famous" or "Two Nations". I recommend you just take your socks off in advance, lest they be rocked off at an awkward moment. Thank me later. Or not at all. Whatever.

Send money.

Idle hands are the blogger's playthings

2006-05-30T19:04:00.001-04:00

Yeah, I'm back at this again. Please hold your applause for the end of the post.

So, school has (mostly) ended for another year. That was a month ago. Yet I remain in Kingston, having finally made true on my threats to others and promises to myself that I would stay the crap out of Brampton for the summer months as well as the school months. It's nice. I can walk places. I'm taking an art class, which simultaneously fufills my fruity art/music requirement for my Stage and Screen degree, and justifies my being up here.

You see, of course, there is a problem right now. A rather unpleasant one at that. For all the benefits of living in Kingston, none are able to compensate for the fact that I remain quite unemployed. Not having money is kind of a cramp on my lifestyle. I haven't gone grocery shopping for two months.

I hate looking for a job. It is one of my great displeasures in life. Somehow, more than half the people I know have had jobs all lined up and waiting for them over the summer, jobs that pay them ridiculous amounts of money for sitting behind a desk and punching keys. Meanwhile, I spend my summers working for minimum wage at some crap warehouse or restauant for a bunch of people who couldn't give a shit. Whatever. So I continue to look for employment.

The worst part is that for a little while there, I actually HAD a job! I practically walked into a kitchen job at a decent downtown resaturant, for respectable pay, doing something I'm moderately okay at: making pizzas. Unfortunately, the guy running the place was some sort of chemically imbalanced Grecian (is that redundant?), so I decided the two shifts were enough. Though I never actually quit. I just stopped constantly calling to ask for shifts. Which is retarded in the first place.

Anyhew, I figured I'd get back on this, for the summer at least, since it looks like I might have a lot of free time on my hands. Coming soon? I complain about other things. The suspense.

Dum-dee-do-dee-do....time for the Six-Week Round-Up!

2006-02-22T13:58:00.000-05:00

Accomplishments for Winter Semester (first half):

- made another short film (Focus 2006, hopefully I can get it to the internet somewhere soon)

- Appeared on television on a regular basis

- appeared in a hospital on an irregular basis

- got drunk before a Studio Q meeting

- got drunk after a Studio Q meeting

- ran out of money

- got money from parents

- ran out of money again

- slept in the Studio Q office instead of going home

- started work on a production of my play "You Can't Get Blood From Charlie Stone", to be directed by myself

- almost had an aneurism after a week of trying to work on that production

- failed to see any movies, plays, or concerts (outside of classes, of course)

- got interviewed

Hmm... Six weeks down, six to go. I may or may not be dead by the end of it. If I am, I request my ashes be used to concoct a firework that spells "Screw you guys too" when it explodes. Good night.

It lives (if only for a little while longer)

2006-01-17T01:38:00.002-05:00

So, anyone out there in the ether actually read this thing recently? If anyone actually has, here's my excuse for keeping you hanging for so long: Studio Q!

Yes, after my many months of jibber-jabbering about it, we've finally produced our first show. I have to say, in all honesty I couldn't be happier with the way...we....finished it. Of course as I type this, Episode 2 has reared it's ugly head. Let me say this: election humour? I think so.

I have been out of my house until after midnight every day since I got back from Christmas. This is the life I chose. Or, would like to choose in the future.

More later. Or maybe not.

We'll see.

Score one for Darwin.

2005-12-20T12:32:00.000-05:00

I haven't come right out and said it before, I don't think, but everyone who already knows me knows how I feel about religion, and it's crackpots. Which is why it was so damn satisfying to see this over at cnn.com today:

'Intelligent design' fails in court

Ha. How sweet it is. It may only be in just one district (and in the States, at that), but damned if it doesn't feel good to see that pseudo-creationist claptrap get thrown out on it's ass.

We all know what 'intelligent design' is, of course. But, for the sake of my own entertainment, I'm going to give my own assessment. Basically, it asserts that there are instances and examples of life that exist on Earth that are too complex to explain through evolution and natural selection, and that, therefore, there must be a higher power, an "intelligent designer", who has fashioned these creatures or phenomena. In short, we don't understand it, so it must have been God who did it. Brilliant.

By that criteria, my computer was created by God too. And my television. And my radio. And the internet. Because I'll be damned if I can explain how those things work. So clearly, there must be some kind of supernatural being behind all of this. It makes so much sense, I can hardly believe it.

Let's not forget that in the past, people have claimed that God(s) was responsible for everything from the rising and setting of the sun, to childbirth, to a good harvest. The standard religious response to things people don't understand is: "God did it". It's the almost flawless, catch-all response. Except, sometimes people take solving these mysteries onto their own hands. And it's thoses people, those who run against the restrictions of religious doctrine, that push things forwards. If the Church had its way, we'd still be living in the 17th century. And I, for one, enjoy the internet too much to let that happen.

Even if I don't really understand how it works.

Obnoxious film post, part 2.

2005-12-19T00:16:00.000-05:00

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Longest. Title. Ever. So it has that going for it.

Well, I'm probably being excessively negative there. It wasn't a bad movie by any means (though once again, the thirty minutes of trailers failed to inspire any hope in the future). I just think I'm at my best when I'm angry and cynical. Damn, lousy, oxygen!

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, TCON:TLTWATW. Man, even the acronym is unwieldy. Which is to say, I cannot wield it. Like, I must not be the right character class, or something. "Tristan cannot use this acronym". Oh, nerd humour, how you make me look bad.

So, really, what I'm trying to get at here is that the movie was alright. It felt at times like it was trying to out-do The Lord of The Rings (and I know full well that the Narnia books were written first, so, you know, don't aim your nerd rays at me), and, really, it had no chance of doing that. I wish that the final (only) battle had been a bit more...dramatic. I also wanted to laugh when Santa Claus showed up to hand out gifts, completely at random. That whole scene was a non-sequitur to the rest of the film.

And of course, there's everyone's favourite source of consternation: Christianity! Yes, the not-so-subtle Biblical allegory that pops up about halfway through the film. And I mean, pops-up. You're sitting there, watching the movie, minding your own secular business, when all of a sudden, it turns into Passion of the Aslan. It's like being woken up from an erotic dream by Jesus hitting you with a Bible, and tying your wrists with a rosary. Seriously. No exaggeration. At all.

Here's my Narnia (the movie)-Christianity theory:

The film asserts it's Christian message in a few ways. First, the obvious, Aslan-is-Jesus angle. In fact, that's so obvious, I don't care.

Second, and I came to see this as the film drew to a close, is the idea that Man's ultimate place is in a position of dominance over nature. Contrary to many contemporary films and popular media, nature is portrayed as being in chaos without man to rule over it. It is not man who imbalances nature, but man who restores balance to nature. Interesting, and probably worth a longer look. The Bible asserts that mankind is meant to be both the ruler of nature, and it's protector, it's steward. So, for a more slightly controversial and alarmist tone, lets say that The Chronicles of Narnia is anti-environmentalist.

True? Who cares.

This post may be drawing to an early close for a couple of reasons. It's past midnight, and I have to get up early to get my dad's car tomorrow. More likely though, it's because I just got myself on this Facebook thing, and now I can't stop. Arg.

You should see movies.

2005-12-16T00:09:00.000-05:00

I just rented and watched Layer Cake, a movie that, if you have heard about it, it's probably because the star, Daniel Craig, is the newest James Bond. I believe it's fair to say he probably deserves it.Watching it, my dad said "the English sure are good at their gangster movies, aren't they?" I agreed.

It got me thinking. The British have their sort of films, genre stuff like Layer Cake, Lock Stock and the like, along with their drier typical sort of English films. The Americans are the Americans of course, thus put out a huge number of movies in EVERY genre and style, dominating North America, if not the World. Canada's contribution to film seems to be, for the most part, films no one watches.

Now I'm not here to shit all over the Canadian film industry. It is what it is. Hell, I hope to be a part of it, and sooner rather than later. But sometimes I just wish we could get off our damn high horse about making "Canadian" films, about "Canadian" themes. You know why no one watches movies about Canadian themes? They're fucking boring. Canadian films work way too hard to be Canadian. They are excessively earnest. Let's try a new initiative in Canadian filmmaking. Instead of asking ourselves (filmmakers, that is) "is this Canadian enough?", let's ask ourselves "Is this interesting to watch?".

Here's an example: A History of Violence. Here we have a movie directed by a Canadian, shot in Canada, with lots of Canadians filling out supporting and background talent, and a crew that is probably majority Canadian too. Yet is it considered Canadian? Nope. Know why? Money. The movie was bankrolled by Americans, so it's an American movie. Meanwhile, people up here have to work their skin to the bone to get money to make a movie, and end up being put into situations where they have to make "Canadian" movies. No one sees them, and the filmmakers either give up or move to Hollywood. Listen, Hollywood isn't perfect. But when you get down to it, all that really matters to them is money. If you've got something that'll pay off for them, they'll make it. Up here, there's the added clause that it should reflect our country's values. Newsflash - no one else cares about Canadian values. And they just isn't enough of us to make those movies profitable, especially when we're right next to the American juggernaut.

I don't know. As with so many things, I don't really have an answer. All I know, is that if and when I get to make a movie, I want to make one people will watch. That doesn't mean it has to be stupid, or overloaded with special effects. It just has to be entertaining. And entertainment can be garnered cheaper than one might think.

Are we in a restaurant? 'Cause you just got SERVED!

2005-12-14T00:01:00.000-05:00

Oh, Christmas vacation, how I've needed you.

With that oft-contentious fall semester behind me now, I can look forward to a three week break consisteing entirely of:

a) sleeping;

b) video games;

c) skiing as much as my legs (and wallet) will allow.

It's good to have a break, my long-standing discontent with Brampton as my home notwithstanding. This past semester, the last few weeks in particular, have been a non-stop shit festival, with assignments, exams, presentations, videos, and essays all due in that crucial 12th week period. At the very least, I've come out of it with a new short video to my name, though it was supposed to be a group project. A quick glance at the credits shows my level of involvement: Written, Directed, Shot, Edited, and Narrated by Tristan Moran. I'm like the Robert Rodriguez of Queen's film.

Next semester promises to be...different, going from group projects-o-rama, to papers and scripts almost exclusively. I can't wait to no longer be at the mercy of people who don't care about the work, leaving me to do all the caring. And all the work. That shit don't fly in my hood no more, bitches.

It comes around this time of year, every year in fact: the Christmas gift hunt. That is to say, my quest to discover what the hell I can buy for people to whom I am...well, obligated isn't a good word, but...in a gift-giving relationship with. Luckily for me, that boils down to immedaite family. Now my dad is easy to buy something for - basically the same kind of stuff I would get for myself; books, movies, etc. My sisters...well, they usually have a list, so I can just grab something from that and claim it as my gift. But my mom...that's a tough one. I never really know what to get her. I'll be damned if I'm going to try and buy clothing for her..I barely know anthing about fashion for people my age, let alone what my mom wants to wear. Last year I got her a couple of DVD's, which was alright I guess, but it comes off as being a lttle impersonal, I think.

Ahh, maybe I should just do what my housemate said he does when he can't think of anything else for his mom: booze!

A Mighty Close Shave (Har har)

2005-12-06T21:48:00.000-05:00

I make snap decisions.

That is all.

I almost admire people that make Catholics look well-adjusted. Almost.

2005-11-18T00:31:00.000-05:00

Beck is a scientologist? Damn it all, crap, shit! How the hell I am supposed to listen to his music when deep down I know he believes we're all inhabited by evil alien souls?

Jason Lee!?

Hyde and Donna from That 70's Show?!

Isaac-motherfucking-Hayes!?!

The actress who does Bart Simpson's voice!?!?!

Jesus H. Christ, this is some seriously fucked up noise. I mean, we all knew about Tom Cruise and John Travolta, and those old guys, but shit, even the b-listers are getting sucked in. I mean, I used to respect these people, in a hard-working sort of way! Now it's just...weird.

Fuck $cientology. Sue me.

Revelatory

2005-11-12T23:50:00.000-05:00

It would be accurate to describe my mood as conflicted.

Studio Q is getting closer to realization - we might actually have a show in a week or two, for chrissakes! I've been working on tonnes of creative stuff, from scripts to shoots for StuQ and the new Queen's Film Promo. In some ways, it's draining, but I'd rather be doing this, than working on labs and math and shit like that. If I can make a career out of film and writing and everything I'm doing here, I will be satisfied in ways I haven't been in a long time.

It was with that in mind that I turned my thoughts towards next year, my final year at Queen's. I have been batting around in my head ideas for what to do extracurricularly next year. The options are there, but I can't do them all, not if I want to actually graduate. First, there is the question of Studio Q. I love working there and doing stuff for the show, but this year...if we aren't able to stabilize before the end of the year, I don't know what's going to happen. I'd like to run for Executive Producer. I think I'd have a chance of getting it too. But, as the saying goes, 'rats will flee a sinking ship'. Do I want to put myself in a position that could be unnecessarily stressful? Not really. This is complicated by other desires of mine.

Last year, a fourth year student, Tyler, who also hosted Studio Q, managed to make an entire 40 minute long film. He wrote and directed it, and got dozens of other students involved from around the school. It was far from being some sort of great achievement of art, but I just thought it was so cool that someone could actually do that in their spare time. Having had time to muse upon my future, I asked myself, "why not me?". Why couldn't I do what Tyler did? Really, there's nothing to say I couldn't try. But I harbour my usual paranoias of failure and obstacles. Example: I don't have a camera of my own. Another example: Tyler had a producer, someone who he was friends with before making his film. Off the top of my head, I don't think I know anyone who is interested in that sort of thing. The problem is that these prospects are pretty much mutually exclusive; I don't think it would be wise to try doing both at the same time.

I think then, of what to do in the shorter term. How can I satisfy my desire to produce work in a public manner, one that allows me feedback? Because ultimately, it's that connection with other people that I crave. Art that only satisfies the artist? That's called masturbation. And to be honest, there's probably enough of that in my life. It's not to say that one should create art for the masses, just that there has to be someone with whom the artist intends to connect. What does this have to do with me? Oh, that's coming.

I had a highly satisfying conversation with my partner for a musical theatre project, Kelsey. In it, I basically aired the concerns I had about trying to get a play of mine produced, since I've given up on acting. I think a lot of light was shed on situations in the course of the conversation that followed (we sure as hell stopped working on our project).

Drama is clique-y? No shit. But I was told of things that drove that idea home in a way I hadn't really felt before. If you've read back far enough here, you've seen my posts written after a few bad auditions. I was disheartened, and I was pissed. Every time I go to see a production from the Drama department, it's always the same damn people in the cast, with a few new first-years to replace the fourth-years that graduated the year before. "Why not me?" I cry; the dominant theme of my recent life, it seems.

I don't hate these people. Individually, they're probably fine. Hell, I've worked with some of them. But this core group is so omnipotent that how can an outsider break in? The solution has always presented itself in the form of upstart, fringe-oriented festivals and productions. But even now, there are fringe cliques forming. Kelsey told me about one such group, a group for whom I auditioned, who've essentially become one big clique. She knows a bunch of them, and so do I. Honestly, I had hoped those connections would work for me, give me an inside edge. I was desperate. So imagine how unpleasant it must be to learn that you aren't even part of a clique you thought you were a part of. Turns out, I'm not cliquey enough. Well fuck everyone.

And so, you see where my desire to make my own film comes in. I want "in", and if I have to create my own damn group to be a part of something, then so be it. Kelsey assured me that people like us were the true artists, outsiders whose knowledge comes from being forced to observe rather than participate. Is that what I am? An observer? A glimmer of hope appeared for me in that moment, as I realized that perhaps there was an exclusive group for me out there. The irony is that outsiders can never form up without becoming insiders, and thus the impetus for coming together in the first place is lost.

A man who defines himself as an outcast can only truly be at home in a community of one. If he were to gather with his fellow outcasts, he would no longer be one. And then what would he be?

Free content, get it while it's hot.

2005-11-12T23:10:00.000-05:00

Well, equipment-related fuck ups at Studio Q have taken their first victim, as my first newsdesk script passed its expiry date. Since this blog has been rather post-starved as of late, I figured I would cheaply recycle the script here. Enjoy!

* * *

Studio Q News Wire

Anchor 1: Good evening, I’m Tristan Moran.

Anchor 2: And I’m Jess Lindal.

Anchor 1: Today’s first story takes us to the student ghetto, where the city has finally decided to act on students’ long running complaints about the lack of enforcement of housing standard bylaws. The city has taken aim at what is certainly the biggest problem with “ghetto” houses: signs. Or as the city would describe them – graffiti. We tried to interview a student about the sign on his house that was clearly dragging down the image of the ghetto, but he was killed when his third floor toilet came crashing through the ceiling, and crushed him.

Anchor 2: Over at McMaster University, students have voted against renewing the university’s contract with Coca-Cola, one that had granted the soft-drink giant exclusive access to on-campus sales. A campaign was run against the company, alleging that, among other things, they were responsible for the kidnapping and murder of several prominent union members at their Colombian plants, actions carried out by Colombian right-wing guerillas. Coca-Cola has denied all of the accusations. In a related story, several members of the McMaster Student Union have vanished without a trace.

Anchor 1: Queen’s has expressed an interest in expanding the campus to include some new buildings, including parts of the former Prison for Women. This is sure to improve the reputation of West Campus, as the threat of being locked in “the hole” should be enough to deter any misbehaviour.

Anchor 2: Kingston police have made a request to the city for over $450 000 for equipment that will better equip the force for dealing with next year’s now inevitable Aberdeen Street riot. The equipment includes helmets, tasers, and tear gas. In addition, a large chunk of that money will go towards the development of a crime fighting cyborg capable of withstanding a barrage of beer bottles while subduing drunken students.

Anchor 1: Statistics released by the police reveal that of the 357 tickets issued on that fateful Saturday night, only 64 identified themselves as living in Kingston. This means that an astonishing 83% of the ticketed people were not from Queen’s, but universities in other cities, like Toronto and Ottawa. There is some speculation that next year the more pro-active thing to do would be to send out small groups of Kingston police to these other universities and gas and taser the students there, as a pre-emptive strike.

Anchor 2: Still keeping with the Homecoming fallout theme, campus is shrouded with a veil of uncertainty about the future of the Aberdeen Street party, and Homecoming in general. Several forums have been held, where students could discuss the situation with city residents and staff, while the Journal has started an essay contest about “what to do about Abredeen”, offering a cash prize. Well we here at Studio Q have a few ideas of our own, for something we like to call “I Dream of Aberdeen”…

[Title card with “I Dream of Aberdeen” appears, along with dream-like music. The music continues through the whole segment. The Anchor is now standing in front of the green screen]

Anchor: A free concert was a good idea, but clearly not what the majority of student revelers wanted to see. Perhaps next year, the Queen’s Entertainment Agency should take their money and buy a half-dozen wrecked cars and hold a free car-burning in Miller parking lot instead.

Though rave culture has declined in recent years, rarely did they decline into the level of violence displayed on Aberdeen. So let’s take some money and set up free ecstasy kiosks around the ghetto over Homecoming weekend. Sure they’d listen to lousy music, but they’d be so busy rubbing each other and dancing, they’d never have the time to throw a beer bottle.

In regards to the Kingston police, we’d prefer to see non-violent actions prevail. So we suggest that next Homecoming, the police don’t arrive at Aberdeen until midnight, but they bring 50 speakers with them, all blaring out the worst pop music the 80’s have to offer. The Go-Go’s at 200 decibels would break up just about any crowd.

If more “coercive” measures are needed, why not look to our nearby military base? I’m sure they could see to loaning the police a tank for one night. There’s not a drunk on the planet who would stand up to a 10-ton tank barreling down on them.

Finally, the most drastic measure to stop next year’s party from going bad: have Queen’s sponsor the event. Nothing keeps the crowd away like knowing Queen’s is running it. For examples, see last year’s “Crash the Celidh” party, and anything ever held at Alfie’s.

Now, these are just a few humble suggestions from us here at Studio Q. If you have any suggestion of your own, let us know at studioq@ams.queensu.ca, and we’ll use it when we’re too busy to do a real show, and just kill time with a cheap viewer mail episode.

Other Anchor: Thanks [anchor]. And thanks for watching, Queen’s. That’s all for tonight, we’ll see you next week.

* * *

There you have it, a free sample of the new(ish) Studio Q. Topical humour is such a pain in the ass.

Take that, you grain-producing, flat landscape-having bastards!

2005-10-30T14:23:00.000-05:00

This'll be real quick. Globeandmail.ca had an article about daylight savings, and the changes to it coming down the pipe in 2007. But it also has the best quote about Saskatchewan ever:

"...Saskatchewan, where time never changes..."

So true Globe and Mail, so true.

This blog appears to be listing.

2005-10-24T19:59:00.000-04:00

I've been writing like it was my job for the last week; 8 page essay, 4 page performance review, and 6 pages of journal entries for my acting class. So I'm a little typed out. Yet still I post here before it can be over a week since my previous post. That's dedication, folks.

The coming lull in assignments for me has created a opportunity to really put pen to paper on my play, the first draft of which is due by the end of the semester. It should be (apparently) 60-80 pages long. I should get to work on that. So, despite my dedication to posting here, my content well is a little dry. So here it comes, the most narcissistic self-absorbed sort of blog post ever: the List! This time it's real generic, things that make me happy, and things that make me filled with a murderous rage.

_______________________________________________

TV

Happy: Prison Break returns tonight, finally. Along with Lost, House, and Invasion, TV is finally making it worth it again.

RAGE: Fuck TSN for deciding that Kingston isn't in the area for Leafs games. Instead we get...classic boxing!

MOVIES

Happy: A History of Violence was probably the best movie I've seen all year. I'm hardly a connoisseur of Cronenberg's work, but this film is masterful and entertaining in every way.

RAGE: I read an article in The Toronto Star (I think) today that talked about declining box office returns, and in it some official Hollywood person actually had the stones to wonder why revenues are down when there are "so many films to choose from". I'll tell you why, dumbass. Your movies, though they may appear different, 90% are all actually part of the same genre: crap.

MUSIC

Happy: Mmmm, Metric's new album is out, and me likey.

RAGE: A white-supremacist band is nothing new. But a white-supremacist band fronted by twin 13 year old girls? Holy fuck. Check this shit out. Girls, why don't you and your neo-Nazi douchebag shit-eating family and friends move into a compound in the middle of the desert (I hear there's some land near the Scientologists) so you'll all be in one place, and we can carpet-bomb the fuck out of you. Seriously.

VIDEO GAMES

Happy: There's a lot of sweet games coming around the bend, but Supreme Commander is, to quote Joel, the funky fresh. I mean, a sequel to Total Annihilation, the best damn RTS ever? Sign me up.

RAGE: Jack Thompson, shit-bag. Start here. Then see here (scroll down). Look here for some background.

SCHOOL

Happy: I did just finish a bunch of work.

RAGE: It's getting colder. The vicious sting of a Kingston winter is on it's way.

__________________________________________________

So there you have it, an unfocused, pointless, and angry post. Par for the course.

* * *

Hey check it out, this is my 25th post since starting! Happy 25th post-i-verssary to me!

Why I spent a whole Friday night thinking about dead babies.

2005-10-17T01:47:00.000-04:00

How I lament the waning frequency with which I post. Oh well.

Last week, I signed up to take part in a 24 Hour Play Festival, put on by these guys. I wanted to write, and write I did. Friday night, we (the other playwrights and I) got our inspirations, a photograph, plus the cast size we would each have to work with. My cast was small, just two women, but really, I was pleased, since the whole piece was only supposed to be 10 minutes long, or so.

Check out this inspiration:

I don't know about you, but I think it just screams screwball comedy.

So I had from 7pm to 7am to write this sucker. I grabbed my notebook, and hoofed it over to the Common Ground, where a giant coffee and hip indie music would be my muse.

Obviously, the picture dictates a certain tone that would seem to rule out, you know, hilarious one-liners. The moment I saw it, I knew: I'm gonna be the heavy. Knowing what I knew about the other playwrights, I figured lighthearted would be a safe bet. And wouldn't you know it, I was right. The other three plays were about:

- a pent-up sex fiend on her wedding day;
- a woman trying to tell her family she's getting a lung transplant from a monkey;
- cows.

And what do I get? Here's a few of my notes from my notebook:

- artificiality of life and death
- can something artificial have real feelings?
- can love be felt between two unreal things?

See, the whole doll thing stood out to me. But in the time I had, I couldn't figure it out, couldn't make something about that angle work. I do think there's a good play to be had from this picture; there is a certain creepiness to it, the anthropomorphization (wow!) of these two objects, designed to imitate the physicality of humanity, but now imbued with an emotional imitation as well. So I dropped the "doll" imagery, and just made it about dead babies and the mothers that love them (that sounds more awful than it was).

I don't really want to describe in exact detail what my play was, but suffice it to say, it involved the discovery of a dead baby by two women, and what they go through when confronted with that horrific sight.

What I did really want to talk about was what watching the final production was like, about 12 hours after I finished the script. This is the first time anything I've written for stage has been performed. It's a strange experience, knowing that you're pretty much powerless, sitting there in the audience. You just have to hope that the director and actors got the material, and treat it the way you intended. I was wiped after writing for about 10 hours, so I slept well past noon on Saturday, and didn't make any appearances at the early rehearsals. I mean, if I'd wanted to walk in and start telling people exactly how I wanted things, I could have, but that would have made me a douchebag. And I'm against that.

As I watched the two actresses take on my surprisingly long script (I swear it was 7 pages long, and took 15 minutes to perform), I was impressed that they managed to remember so much in so little time. Sure, there were some mistakes, some lines missed, or misread, but what're you gonna do? Everyone knew the conditions for production, that's part of the show.

I liked seeing my stuff on stage. I've had lots of stuff of mine on TV, with Studio Q and everything, but there is something about the stage, something more viscerally satisfying. It probably has to do with that old cliched adage that "the theatre is alive". The television acts as a wall between the viewer and the material, invisible though it may be; if the television has the power of scope and scale, then the theatre has the power of immediacy. You are in there with these people performing, performing for you and you alone. TV sends its signal out everywhere, and just hopes that people tune in. Just going to the theatre is more of an engagement than most people initiate with TV.

TV pays better, though.

Riding back from the sunset.

2005-10-03T23:58:00.000-04:00

Ahh, finally, my triumphant and long-awaited return.

Many things to engage in a one-sided witty banter with myself about; I regret to inform some people that this may end up seeming like an exceedingly "bloggy" sort of post. Content is content.

First, the biggest and most recent (as in, I learned it two hours ago) news: you are now reading the blog of the News Producer for the 2005-2006 season of Studio Q. Allow me to be the first to offer congratulations to myself. Thank you, thank you. Frankly, I can only imagine that this will be the beginning of a age of enlightenment and wonder for student-run television; a true renaissance. Or some such thing. There are numerous changes afoot, which I can't go into great detail about, not so much because I'm sworn to secrecy, but because I just don't really know. But here's a tasty (possible) sample: A new earlier timeslot? Maybe!

I'm happy mostly because this represents my first success in being truly involved with anything on campus, excluding my previous years of volunteering for the Q. And those failures, now that I think about it, can be traced back to a previous topic of mine. Technology hates me. And yet, I do so love technology. It's like some horrible love-hate white trash trailer park relationship, where I am the abused wife who tolerates technology's drunken misbehaviour because I know the kids (video games and email) need their father around.

(Did I just turn myself into a metaphorical woman? Crap.)

You see, when one signs up for various organizations and whatnot during Clubs night or something, the terrifyingly perky person running the booth always says something like "we're going to be holding an information meeting soon, just write your name and email here and we'll send you a message soon!" And so, I write down my name and email, and what happens? Well, nothing really. To this date, I have not recieved emails from: The Journal, the Ski and Snowboard Club, and some other damn ones. Even the Queen's Atheist club never got back to me! Damn godless pagans. You like that Atheist's Club? You drove me to religion. Douchebags.

(On a barely related note, I saw a club at Clubs night called "Think, Inc." They billed themselves as "a group of drama-loving believers in Christ at Queen's University." You know, you gotta have big fuckin' stones to be a Christian group that calls itself "Think". The ideas are anathema to each other - they are diametrically opposed.)

Now one might say that these email gaffes are the result of human error, not technology. Well, that's nice of you, to make me look bad mid-rant. Jerk. And anyways, another recent problem proves that it is technology that's going after me. My DVD-RW drive, which if you remember, I went through a great deal of trouble getting, has decided that, though it may read DVD videos and games, it will not recognize that it's true identity is a DVD burner. For reasons that I'm sure are light-years beyond my technical expertise, my drive completely fails when it comes to acknowledging blank DVD's. It doesn't recognize it or something. So the one piece of technology I had managed to harvest from my dad's computer fails me too. The circle of crap is complete.

"My rage is blowin' gauges"

Privacy means nothing to me.

2005-10-03T23:35:00.000-04:00

And Now... a Random MSN Moment.

Laura:
hahah that msn picture of you always makes me laugh

Laura:
forbsy?

Tristan:
yeah, I'll make that face a lot [on Studio Q]

Tristan:
yeah

Tristan:
it'll be the new logo

Tristan:
"back to you, Queen's"

Laura:
hahahaha

Tristan:
if I were in charge of promotions, I'd make it a poster

Laura says:
you should make it a poster anyway

Laura:
you'll get lots of babes that way

Tristan:
oh yeah, they'll all come to the meeting, and be like "oh my god, are you the guy from the poster? Wow..."

Laura:
then they'll take off their pants

Tristan:
"yes ladies. Yes I am"

Tristan:
I'm afraid this meeting is over

Tristan:
or is it just beginning?

Tristan:
bow-chica-wow-wow

Laura:
hehehehe

Laura:
I don't think you'd make a good porn star

Laura:
no offense

Tristan:
well I never

**Update/Special Request: Part Two**

Laura says:
oh great.

Laura says:
Now I look like an idiot. On the internet. For EVERYONE to see.

Tristan says:
moreso

Laura says:
Now I have to censor everything I ever MSN to you for fear of it ending up on your blog

Tristan says:
HA HA HA

Tristan says:
i shoudl steal this conv. too

Laura says:
Fuck.

Tristan says:
take that, ethics

Just so you know...

2005-09-27T17:13:00.000-04:00

I'm still here. There's probably not enough people reading this site to notice I've been gone for almost two weeks, but I digress.

I'm sure I'll write something here soon enough, but I've got so much stuff to write for classes, it makes my brain hurt. Until then, I'm sure you people can console yourselves with alcohol and self-abuse.

Reconsideration.

2005-09-15T20:26:00.000-04:00

To use a tired cliche (as comfortable as an old shoe), what a difference a day makes.

I suppose a retraction from yesterday's post is in order, as I didn't totall dog today's audition. What's more important, than that though, is that I feel a million times better about acting. Will I get a part? I can't say really. But what I can honestly say, is that I gave a far better performance than yesterday. Once again, I attribute it to the cold read, the great leveller. I didn't have to worry about screwing up the lines because I had them there right in front of me, and it's part of the deal that I've never seen them before. So I get to feel far more confident that my performance will be pure. As contradictory as that sounds.

So, I'm back on the wagon. Or off the wagon. Not really sure what that means, anyways.

Hey, look at that, three straight days of posting. I knew school would be an improvement.

Tristan out.

On acting.

2005-09-14T23:40:00.000-04:00

I hate it.

Scratch that. I suck at it. There we go.

So I pretty much duffed the audition for which I brought a prepared monologue. Not sure why, but I was shakingly nervous. I pretty much wrote off the whole thing when I saw who judge number 3 was, a guy who, for reason I can't pinpoint (gut instinct perhaps), I'm pretty sure hates me. That's not to say that I think it's his fault if I don't get a part. It's just his fault that I was nervous. Which is what caused me to blow the monologue. Which is why I won't get a part.

You know how in movies, where a character does really poorly on some sort of evaluation, but one of the evaluators convinces the others to take a chance on him regardless? Yeah? That's totally what's not going to happen. Doesn't matter how nice the director is. He's not stupid.

I still have an audition tomorrow, just a cold read, which is what I'm used to. Hopefully some reflection on WHY I FUCKED UP SO MUCH will help me out. Until then....

OH MY GOD! Studio Q has disbanded!!! DWAAAA!!!!

2005-09-14T15:34:00.000-04:00

Well, that's not exactly true. Disintegrated would be the better word.

I recently learned that over the course of the summer, events conspired to place the organization's future in doubt. The apparently-not-completely-unexpected departure of the executive producer created a leadership vacuum, while simultaneously, shabby treatment of the office resulted in an AMS-led cleansing of the office that left little more than the computers and a desk. As I understand it, the Studio Q office now resembles a sort of barren post-apocalyptic landscape. Which would be kind of cool, were it not for the fact that it is quite hard to get any work done in post apocalyptic landscapes. You know, giant insects and zombies and whatnot.

Anyhoo, the place is now in the hands of the eminently capable femmes-extraordinaire Karen and Jess, who were probably the most surprisingly productive new volunteers last year. I've informed them of my intention to support the Q, and see if we can't bring this baby back from the brink.

I think this could be a good thing, actually, as long as we can actually get the show up and running before the AMS decides to pull the plug. I contend that though the last season was extremely awesome, a collapse was imminent. Problems that lurked below the surface have finally taken their toll. For example: the total lack of "new blood" in the show. I can count on one hand how many volunteers from my year have been involved for more than one episode. In fact I can count them on one finger: me. To my knowledge, I am the only '07 who had any long-term presence throughout last year. The '08's were much better, but still, meeting attendance was often low. With the departure of such mainstays as Jonny T, Tyler, Lucas and Connor, there is going to be a large hole to fill. Like them or not, they did a lot.

With this collapse, we have the opportunity to restructure the show, and do away with some of the practices that I believe kept the new blood away. Ever since I starting getting involved two years ago, the place has always reeked of clique-ness. Honestly, I think this kind of thing pervades every organization on campus, but that's another situation. The Studio Q clique has crumbled, and now perhaps we can get something fresh happening. I do believe that a strong core group of people is necessary to produce quality content (like last year), but to insulate that group from the outside is self-destructive, if for no other reason than that it doesn't allow for the "next generation" to get, well, "trained", for lack of a better word. The fact is, no one is going to be there forever, so you must take care to properly foster your replacements. Or else this sort of stupid situation happens.

Studio Q will return, I have no doubt. But care must be taken to ensure that this sort of debacle can't happen again. Where else shall students and locals turn to for their weekly fill of late-night low-budget non-religious programming? Nowhere, that's where.

p.s. I suppose it's possible some people might read this (as unlikely as that may seem) and not have any idea what Studio Q is. If that's you, then just check out the link in my "links" column. I figured that would have been obvious. But you're just a bit of a dummy then, aren't you?

Studio Q

There you go, dummy. Clickity-click.

The post where I try to get deep, but fail to keep a coherent idea running for more than a few sentences.

2005-09-13T13:41:00.000-04:00

I have, up to this point in my life, a very shoddy record when it comes to auditions. To date, I have had three roles. Consider that I have been trying out for productions since grade 12, which is about five years ago, and I have had far more than 3 auditions. Also consider that the first role did not involve my being anywhere near the stage. Voice-overs are not cool in the theatre.

So it was with some trepidation that I headed down to the postings wall in the Drama dept. and checked out what was there. I signed up for two auditions, out of what appeared to be four calls. The other two were for musicals. If you know me, you know why I didn't sign up. One is a nice simple cold read, the kind of audition I like: it has an even playing field. The other requires a prepared two-minute classical monologue.

I have always skipped the auditions that required a prepared performance, probably because I find them intimidating. I mean, it is the Fall Major, pretty big shit in these parts. I'm sure it's people like me they're trying to keep out; the dilettantes, those who wish to dabble, who haven't necessarily declared acting to be their one and only career choice. But I've decided to throw caution to the wind, and take the plunge. Now to memorize a monologue in 2 days.

* * *

What is it that drives us to perform? Why do I find myself wanting to get up on to a stage and "act"for complete strangers? There is certainly no financial reason involved; someone told me today that the average salary of an "actor" is $12,000 a year. Including the bigshot moneybags actors who command $20 million a film. How accurate this number is is unclear. But what one can conclude is that it's probably true that 99.9% of us who try, will fail. It is a simple, gut-churning fact.

Now I don't think I'm ever going to call myself an actor. You can label it as "poor self-esteem" or whatever, but I am ready to accept the face that in all likelihood, I am not a gifted thespian. I will not be the next Anthony Hopkins. There's no chance of me ever being the next Brad Pitt. The most I could hope for is parts in small-time stuff. And when I say "small time", I don't mean "b-list". I mean "community theatre". That's life. Horrible, demeaning life. "Media" constantly assaults us with the message that we can do whatever we want in life, as long as we *groan* believe in ourselves. "Remember kids, we're all special in our own way!" Actually, not really. You're special because you do karate? So what? That kid over there does it too, and he's better. You're special because you like to read? Big fucking deal. I like to read. How can we be special "in our own way", if a bunch of other people are "special" at the same thing?

ARRGGGH, getting off track, losing focus.

What we want, is validation. We want to be recognized by the community, by other people, as being uniquely talented. We want people to come see us because we can do something they can't. We want the talent have-nots to come and applaud the haves. Thinking about it, it almost smacks of arrogance. "We're better than you at acting, so come see us (and pay for it, too!)" I don't know. Sometimes, I just don't.

I've been reading this book Hello, I'm Special: How Individuality Became the New Conformity, by Hal Niedzviecki, and it's influenced a lot of my thinking recently. He writes that we have been trained or conditioned to perceive validation by popular culture as the highest honour, and the one true happiness. I'm inclined to agree, except that I believe that the desire for pop culture validation is born out of the desire for validation from smaller groups. Parents, friends, the community. The need for mass validation is an inevitable result of our competitive nature. It's not enough to be the favourite child, or the centrepiece of your group of friends. We need more validation. We need the whole world to recognize how great we are. We want the maximum amount of validation. Why stop with your friends, when there are all these strangers who don't know how awesome we are? But the further we try to spread out, the more competition we run into. And there are only so many spots on the prime-time line up. It's an inverse relationship: the more widely popular we try to be, the more unlikely it is we will succeed.

Is it going to stop me from auditioning? Is it going to stop me from pursuing a career in the film industry? Probably not. But such is the nature of our society; recognizing that there is a problem does little to change it. Just because I know I'm a cog in the machine doesn't mean I can stop turning. It just makes that inevitable crash a bit more bitter.

Tristan, Part 3: The Return, Part 2

2005-09-07T00:28:00.000-04:00

I rolled into town and I liked what I saw.

Seriously, does Kingston have some major babe action happening, or what? Sch-weet.

Third year starts in a few days, thus marking the formal beginning of the second half of my university education. I haven't yet got a damn clue about what I'm going to do when I get out in '07, but with the way I feel right now, I could stay here for years.

It's a shame really. We have to spend so much time in the elementary and secondary school system, probably hating at least half the classes we have to take, and yet when we get to university, it all opens up. There's just so much to do here, and just not enough damn time to do it. There are numerous classes I'd love to take, not just in film, but in all sorts of subjects, but if I want to get my degree in the proper 4 years, I can't take 'em. By now, unfortunately, society expects us to be wrapping things up, and becoming part of the workforce, doing something tangible for the community. The pursuit of knowledge, of learning, has become irrelevant. Now that we're old enough to work, that's what we're expected to do.

I don't know. Maybe this just sounds like some Bolshie-pinko idealist whining, but it's how I feel. The thought of spending the rest of my life at a place like Rona, for example, strikes me as soul-destroying; an absolute vacuum for creativity and life. If someone told me that, beyond the shadow of a doubt, I would be at Rona for the rest of my life, I'd probably go jump in the lake and never get out. I don't call that a life.

I drank before I wrote this. Consider it a caveat. Uhh, a post-reading caveat, I suppose.

Red Eye-d...with ANGER!!!

2005-09-02T17:22:00.000-04:00

Saw Red Eye on Saturday. Good movie, peters out in the end a bit. Collateral-syndrome, if you will. Seem like I'm short-changing the review? Well I am. Why? Read on.

I'm sure we've all sat through those interminable pre-movie ads that assault you with ragged editing, pumping music, and total in yo' face style. You know, the ones that say "You wouldn't steal a purse....pirating movies is stealing....stealing is a crime..." First of all, no shit geniuses. Stealing is a crime? Oh film industry, your streetwise PSA's have changed my whole outlook on life!

Secondly, if we wanna talk about theft, let's talk $14.50 tickets. 'Nuff said.

But my point, which I am getting to today (gasp!), is that I believe there is a much more pervading reason than simple cost that keeps people out of the movie theatres these days. It's the other people in the theatre. People like the woman behind me at the aforementioned viewing of Red Eye. A woman who, at a 9:45 showing, of an adult movie, has brought her tiny little shit of a son. I was this close to just Hulking out on her and throwing her through a wall. But the authorities would have frowned upon that, I suppose.

So instead I got to spend the entire film having to listen to a four-year-old child be bored, and do all the things a four-year-old child would do when he's bored: whine, cry, complain, run around, kick seats, jump up and down...etc. At one point, I even turned around and calmly informed her that, contrary to what she may have believed, this was not, in fact, a playground in which her child can run amok. I don't know if she ignored me or if was just deaf, but either way, absolutely nothing was done to rein in her child. A visit from a theatre employee had a similar non-effect.

It just burns me that some people can be so utterly oblivious of how goddamn obnoxious their children can be if they don't actually parent them. And God help you if you actually try to point it out to them, because 99% of the time you're gonna get an earful of the "how-dare-you's" and the "who-do-you-think-you-are's". Except in the rare case where they simply don't respond at all ("Maybe if I ignore them, they'll stop being annoyed!"). When did this happen? When did people suddenly become filled an utter disregard for others? Are we savages? 'I paid my money, therefore I can do whatever I want?' It takes so little to be considerate these days, yet some people seem to believe that manners and decorum are a case of people cramping their style. 'You can't tell me what to do, I'm my own person!' Go to hell!!!

So I propose the first stages of a revolution in movie-going. Pay attention industry; if you want people in those seats, consider some points:

1. NO children under the age of 8 after 9:00pm. You want to bring kids to a movie? Take them at a kids-appropriate time. Nights are adult swim time.

2. Bring back ushers. And not some 15 year old 90-pound kid either. I want Michael Clarke Duncan in there, messing up people's shit. Would you mouth off to a 300-pound, 7-foot tall black guy? Neither would I.

3. Toss outs. You talk, you get tossed out. No questions asked. This is a theatre, not a coffee shop, ass-face.

Ehh, so these are just some starting points...I kind of lost interest while I was writing them.

Seriously, though. I fucking hate kids. Well, poorly raised kids. And their crappy parents.

I should finish these posts all at once, instead of waiting three days to finish.

And the countdown begins...

2005-08-26T16:18:00.000-04:00

By this time next week, I'll be finishing up my packing, and getting ready to head back to Queen's. But you know what's better than going back to Kingston? Leaving Brampton. Especially the crappy job I have in Brampton. "What's that? A mandatory meeting on Sunday? Eat it, bitches."

On a "makes-me-pissed-off" note, my plan for my dad's computer blew up in my face yesterday. Apparently Dell feels that AGP slots are still a fancy luxury, as opposed to a standard in any computer manufactured in this century. So I can't install my $300 video card into the new tower. Which makes it's worth to me about as much as a peanut. Well, that's not entirely true, I did manage to harvest the DVD-RW drive without any problems.....yet.

What pisses me off the most is that the whole design of the computer smacks of a "forced obsolecence" plan. Not only did we buy a computer that comes without a graphics card, but it lacks the ability to ever have one installed, unless said card is severely aged. So Dell has already decided for us that we can never upgrade the graphics capabilities of this computer. If we wanted to do that, we should have just paid them the money in the first place. Bastards.

I guess I didn't really have a whole lot to say.

Fuck Rona.

My savings are like Keyser Sose.

2005-08-22T16:53:00.000-04:00

Total budget spent on games this summer:

Guild Wars - $39.99
GTA: San Andreas - $39.99
Unreal Tournament 2004 Editor's Choice Edition - $49.99
Dungeon Siege II - $59.99

Total: $200+ (once you factor in taxes).

In addition, $50 on season 6 of The Simpsons, $50 worth of CD's, and $70 on books equals an excess of entertainment dollars. I can't even count how much I've dropped on booze this summer.

When it comes to me and money, it is less something saved than it is something ephemeral, nary a wisp of which I can truly hold onto. Like a puff of smoke, and it's gone.

Policy notes

2005-08-15T19:03:00.000-04:00

With about a month and a week under my belt here, I feel it's appropriate to hold a little state of the union moment, apart from my usual posting style.

I think things are going well here. I've had a few random comments, which is neat. It's nice to know that there are people out there with nothing better to do than read what I write when I have nothing better to do. I propose more comments, then. More I say! I'm pleased to hear that people to whom I am not directly in communication with are reading too, thanks to my Pizza Hut connections.

I think I can proudly say that I have not succumbed to the typical blog style of Livejournal-esque moaning and navel gazing. Not once have I written that I hate my parents or my teachers, or tried to display my creative spirit though god-awful poetry about darkness, pain, and suffering. Fucking kids and their whining. Get a job and cut your hair, you damn bums.

So I guess I'll stay the course. Things ought to pick up once I'm back at school.

Oh, and a hearty congratulations to Joel on his gainful employment in Toronto. I'm sure you'll do great in the city.

Get me a job.

Damn, damn the Purolator man...

2005-08-15T16:55:00.000-04:00

As of the beginning of this post, my dad's new computer has yet to arrive by the seventh business day that Dell promised. I suppose they figure since we've already bought two computers from them, we're pretty much sheep who will allow ourselves to be pushed around. They're probably right.

The reason I'm anxious for my dad's computer to arrive is because it is, in reality, my new computer. My understanding of computer hardware, which is mediocre at best, limits my ability to make any solid upgrades, so this new computer holds promise in the shape of a faster processor and more and better RAM. Upon it's arrival, I will be cannibalizing my present computer for things like the graphics card and sound card, slamming them into the new tower, and rocking out to what will surely be an imperceptible increase in performance. My dad will take the hollow shell that remains. Trust me, it's not the raw deal it sounds like.

Technology has actually giving me the finger as of late, so perhaps this latest scheme of mine will merely leave me with two burnt out husks that were once respectable members of the computer community. Take two weeks ago. I was determined to get a photo of a roadside sign that I found hilarious. I procrastinated, as I often [always] do, and when I finally got out there, my camera batteries decided to crap out. I barely use the damn thing, but still it manages to run out of juice. The next day I tried again, fresh batteries in hand, only to find that the sign had been taken down. I think I heard the camera laughing at me.

A more disturbing (and costly) situation has been my internet. While it is acceptably quick during the day, once eight o'clock rolls around, it hits a damn wall. I once let it sit trying to load Google for ten minutes, to no avail. Am I to assume that my internet is solar powered? I don't remember Bell mentioning that in the contract. I guess I have some sort of "reverse vampire" internet service. And trying to get help from the people at the Bell World store was akin to asking the guy who owns the local hobby shop to describe what sex is like. In both cases, they're utterly lost. So I'd better wrap things up here before sunset.

Is it possible that my sister's penchant for eradicating all technology around her has now spread to me, like some sort of luddite virus? Say it isn't so! How shall I survive? Cars will break down! Phones will disintegrate in my hands like dust! The skies shall rain blood!

Well, maybe not that last one.

As a last note, I figured I ought to tell you about the sign that I thought was so funny. Let's see if I can do it with text formatting alone.

KELTIC ROCK
UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT

DAILY SPECIALS

SEX.......POKER
KARAOKE SINGING

Note: I can't make html work, so the dots indicate that there was a larger than average space between "sex" and "poker".

I think that works. I guess what I'm wondering about is "sex......poker". Is that one thing or two things? Are both sex and poker available? Or do they merely offer the game of sex poker? And are they the "daily specials", or is the sign merely pointing out that daily specials do exist, separate from the sex poker? As you can see, it is an intriguing situation, one that requires further in-depth investigation. Unfortunately, it's naptime!

And the computer still hasn't arrived yet.

Musical Scares

2005-08-09T19:50:00.000-04:00

My mom was away all of last week, which means I got to have her car. Unforntunately, my crap job that starts at 4am kept me from being able to actually use it, but hey, at least I saved on gas. Yet there was some good borne from my newly acquired wheels: the in-dash CD player.

Given that the current climate on commercial radio can be summed up quite well in the word "crap"(Jack FM, I'm looking in your direction), I prefer to listen to CD's when I drive. But since my dad's car, the one I'm usually driving (if driving at all), has one of those trunk-based multiple CD players, changing CDs on the fly is a pain in the ass, so I'll usually cross my fingers and hope 102.1 will deliver. It often doesn't. With my mom's car, I suddenly found myself musically empowered, imbued like a superhero with the capabillity to listen to anything I damn well want, within the limits of my CD collection.

See, I rarely listen to CDs at home any more. I've ripped or downloaded enough music to my PC to be satisfied whenever I want to listen to something, plus it's all there at once. My actual CD player/boombox thingy has deteriorated over the years to the point where anything makes it skip. If a butterfly flaps its wings in Africa, my copy of X&Y skips to Parachutes without warning. My stereo is living proof of chaos theory. What this means (at last) is that some of my hard copy CDs have gone unlistened to for a long time. Hell, I bought the newest Audioslave album, never got around to ripping it to my computer, and have consequently never actually listened to the whole CD.

Though my time with the car has come to an end it has given me the chance to rediscover some great CDs of mine. It is a double-edged sword, though: to my shock and awe, some of my of CDs suck! So for your reading pleasure, I humbly present the first official list on this blog: The "Still Rocks!! / Blows Chunks!!" Music Rundown...

Yes, these disks are still awesome....

- Danko Jones, Born A Lion: I don't know why I don't own this guy's third disk. This music tears it up, puts it back together, and then tears it all up again.

- Metric, Metric: Emily Haines' voice would kill me if I let it. She gives me naughty feelings. Oh, and the music is pretty damn good too.

- The Music, The Music: I thought this CD rocked right when I got it, but I guess I just let it fall out of the rotation. Way better than the more pop stylings of their second disk.

- The White Stripes, Elephant: Best. White Stripes Album. Ever.

But what the hell was I thinking with these ones?

- The Matrix Revolutions OST: Marilyn Manson's track "The New Shit" is the only song I could listen to, and I don't even really like Marilyn Manson.

- Linkin Park, Hybrid Theory, Reanimation & Meteora: One of my secret shames is that I own both Linkin Park albums, plus the cash grab that was Reanimation. Here's a little experiment if you too own Hybrid Theory and Meteora. Get two seperate CD players, and cue up the tracks "Crawling" on one, and "Numb" on the other. Play them at the same time. It may sound like you only have one player working, but I assure you that you are not experiencing any technical difficulties. The problem is, "Crawling" and "Numb" are in fact, exactly the same song!

- Evanescence, Fallen: I bet 90% of their fans can't even spell Evanescence. Plus, I hate Christian rock. And don't try to tell me they aren't Christian rock. What's-her-face might as well be wearing a ankle length dress and shrieking "I love Jesus!" at the top of her lungs. And at least that would be honest. I could have saved 15 bucks.

- P.O.D., Satellite: Know what's worse than Christian rock? Christian rap-metal.

* * *

Hardly a definitive list, but hey, I only had the car for one week. And I can hardly fit all of my CDs in my travel case. Just looking into the shoebox I keep all of my CDs in, I can see that I own both CDs by Saliva. Oy.

***Coming soon: Rocks/Blows Part II - The mp3 edition!***

On the upside, I probably smell like whiskey.

2005-07-31T14:02:00.000-04:00

That's what I said to my dad after I got home from a long day of hauling around "genuine" whiskey barrel planters at work a little while ago. Barrels that, having sat outside for the better part of the season, are now decaying and rusting. Barrels that were literally falling apart in my hands as I moved them. I was only actually able to move about half of them, the rest were DOA. At 41 bucks a pop, they're a screaming good deal. If you're an idiot.

This is the sort of mindless crap I engage in at my daily drudge that masquerades as a job. Let me lay it out right here and now. Rona sucks. Sucks like a crack addicted hooker who hasn't been able to score a fix in weeks. That, good readers, is a lot of sucking.

Before you protest my totally reasonable statement, allow me to demonstrate the level of intelligence present on a typical day. There was a display in the plumbing department a little while ago, it was a bathroom fixture set, or something, and these were the features as listed on the sign (I was going to get a picture, but the sign was replaced quickly):

- Ceramic Caridge
- Towle Bar
- Papper Holder
- Rob Hook

Does anyone know what these features are? I have no idea, personally. The only thing I can identify is the last one, the "Rob Hook". Now, I've never had a need for a Rob hook before, but I can imagine why you would want one. Too often have I seen people's Robs just lying around, thrown over a chair, or lying on the floor, crumpled and wet. With a Rob hook, you'd always have somewhere to keep your Rob when your done with it. Parents are always yelling, "for crying out loud, put your Rob away when you're finished with it!" or, "the floor is not a Rob hook!" I know that next year, when I'm living with a guy named Rob, I'll probably want somewhere to keep him neat. It's possible the sign could be referring to a "robe" hook, but I doubt it. Why would Rona employ people who can't even spell robe?

- I got a raise apparently. They decided not to inform me in any way. Probably because it was a measly 10 cents. Roughly a 1.25 percent raise, that is. I suppose if they actually had told me that I was getting a 10 cent raise, I would have laughed in their face, unable to believe that they were actually serious.

- A certain assistant manager has been cutting the hours of employees in his departments, and then getting me and my fellow stocking crew associates to do their work instead. For less
pay, of course. Asshole.

- The lamest thing of all, though, is that I have to work tomorrow. I have to work on the holiday Monday. I know I need the money, but I don't care. That's how much I hate working there.

So there you have it. A few examples of why Rona is balls. I think a rabid monkey could run the store better. Plus it'd be easier to reason with a rabid monkey. And it'd smell better than the assistant manager. Zing.

A victory for common sense.

2005-07-21T13:03:00.000-04:00

Canada is now the fourth country in the world to legally recognize gay marriages. You hear that? That's the sound of Conservatives and religious groups fuming as they are forced to come to terms with the fact that they are no longer relevant, and that Canadian society will no longer allow them to try and force their religious beliefs down everyone's throats. They've huffed and they've puffed, and they've failed utterly. It looks good on you, guys.

CONTINUED!

2005-07-19T17:17:00.000-04:00

Did anyone read that last post of mine? I just did. From now on, I write my posts before the sun goes down. I think I'll leave it up as a reminder to myself of what happens when I write both tired and bored. Like the proverbial head on a pike, warning other posts; "don't let this happen to you".

Yeah, that seems rational.

So first of all, I wanna wrap up what I hadn't finished from the aforementioned post. Every trailer I see for upcoming movies sucks. That's the cold hard truth.

Exhibit #1: "The Man", starring Samuel L. Jackson and Eugene Levy

Another "cool black guy" meets "lame white guy" comedy? Holy hot shit, sign me up! What I really want to know, is what are two perfectly talented guys like Jackson and Levy doing in this thing? Aren't there struggling nobodies who need a shot at fame that a movie like this could totally crush? This will be a problem in Hollywood should it continue. If established actors start doing the shitty movies, how will the up and comers get a chance? My god, "The Man", you could be spelling the doom for all new actors everywhere! Damn you! Damn you all to hell!

Exhibit #2: "Underclassman", starring Nick Cannon and Shawn Ashmore

Ahh, now this is more like it. Who the hell are these guys? One guy was in that crappy Drumline movie, and the other was Iceman in X-men and X-2. At the very least, these guys are on their way up. Though once this movie is done with them, who knows. Here we have another brilliantly original plot, wherein an incompetent cop (Cannon) is sent undercover in a school, offering this zany character a chance he never had in his life. I'm not sure from the trailer what purpose Ashmore serves, other than to provide some of those refreshing old money white guy vs. streetwise black guy moments (see: "The Man"). And to top off this ludicrous trailer, we see a supposed triumphant moment where the school basketball team, being pummelled in what I can only assume is the CHAMPIONSHIP GAME, finally relent and put Cannon in play, where he totally owns the entire opposing team on his own. Why? Because he's black, stupid. Seriously, hasn't anyone on this team ever seen a movie before? Black people are always awesome basketball players! The guys on the team should have been like, "sweet, a black guy! Now we'll win for sure!" Instead, they try to make him some kind of outcast, I guess. Maybe the coach's plan was to keep Cannon on the bench until the team needed him, like a secret weapon. The other team is like "man, we rule! We're winning 127-12!", and then the coach says "oh yeah? Well take this! Black-a-chu, I choose you!", and then the other team of white guys totally run away to their Bentleys with their lunches in their shorts.

I'm not being racist here, I don't think. I can't imagine that people from the black community would be happy about this ludicrous stereotype. "He may be a lousy cop, but dang, he's one HELL of a basketball player!"

Exhibit #3: "The Perfect Man", starring Hilary Duff and Heather Locklear

Yeah, I know this is already out, not just a trailer, but it is so heinous, I can't ignore it. Basically, Heather jumps from one unstable relationship to another, moving the family every time a relationship falls apart. Heather's latest mistake is a lovable lug with a penchant for Styx, and slightly outdated slang. Of course Hilary, who is apparently an uptight bitch, says "this will not do", and goes about inventing an imaginary boyfriend for her mother, via emails and online chat rooms. That's right, Hilary thinks that she can do a better job of being her mom's boyfriend than Styx-guy. Aside from the bizarro incestuous nature of this plan, her motivations are dubious at best. Hilary doesn't give a shit about her mom's feelings; she just wants to be able to go to her prom.

Pardon me, Hilary? Your mom engages in self-destructive and unstable behavior, and that gets your goat because it really gets in the ways of your plans for the weekend? Well tough shit, bitch. That's family. Don't like it? Move out. Frankly, if your mom is Heather-fucking-Locklear, and she only goes out with losers, maybe she's got a few problems herself. Maybe a Styx-loving nice guy is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe they were made for each other. Maybe they're soul mates, but you're such a selfish whore, you just want your mom to stop inconveniencing you with her fragile mental state. I'd get your mom checked for mental problems, because I think they might be genetic.

* * *

WHEW, I sure let off some steam there, didn't I? Did I say that this was "firstly"? Because what I really meant, was "only". Out.

The need for a better title quickly become apparent.

2005-07-16T17:24:00.000-04:00

Retribiution for last week's Land of the Dead fiasco; me and my dad went to see War of the Worlds, and *gasp*, nothing went wrong. Still, there were other people in the theatre, thus marring the experience...

I do like how they totally cribbed the design of the alien tripods from the striders in Half-Life 2. Hell, the scene where the soldiers are finally able to take one down with their rockets smacked of HL2 so much, it was like watching a game-to-film adaptation. There go the chances of that happening, I guess. Otherwise, a perfectly acceptable summer film, cocked up my Spielberg's incessant sentimentality in the end. The first two thirds of the film were gret, don't get me wrong. I just wish ol' Steven would have let the desperate mood run through the whole film, not just the beginning and middle. Not as good as his last collaboration with Crazy Cruise, Minority Report. I hear his next film is about the terrorist attacks at the '72 Olympics in Munich. I wonder if he can find a happy ending for that.

On a related note, I was shocked to see that the theatre started running the endless ads before the actual start time. Maybe they're starting to realize that we're there to see a movie, not watch 20 minutes of car and makeup commercials. I hope it marks the beginning of a new trend. Perhaps the reason it stands out most, is because last night I went and saw the Wedding Crashers. Though it would be more accurate to say that I sat through 30 minutes of ads and trailers, and got to watch the movie as a reward.

And one last short rant, the trailers I've seen have led me to believe that there is no hope for movies in the future. For example....ooh, I'll add this later. Sounds like a big storm's rollin' in.
Out.

Weeks End

2005-07-11T19:48:00.000-04:00

A few things from the weekend.

Went with my dad to go see Land of the Dead on Saturday afternoon. We were at the farther away theatre, the show started at noon, things looked good. Got there just in time to miss all the ads, but even more importantly, the place was empty. I don't mean quiet, I don't mean a few other people. I mean empty. Me and my dad had the place to ourselves. So we settle in, ready for a good, old-fashioned, mindless zombie-killin' movie. We've got our popcorn, got our drinks. Everything is, I cannot stress this enough, perfect. And thirty seconds into the film? The projector stops, and full lighting comes on in the theatre. What happened, you say? Perhaps the jerkasses who run the theatre thought that it wasn't worth it to screen the movie for a mere two people? Well, much to our disappointment, it was something far more pointless.

Yep, the power went out. To the whole building. But as we drive away, afternoon plans ruined, I notice that the outage seems to be focused on the area around the theatre only. Two minutes away, the traffic lights are working. No explanation for this unique phenomenon of screwing us over, but I think it probably has something to do with the liberal media. Damn frenchies.

That night, to make up for it, we went to the Argos game, me my dad and my sister. I still enjoy the whole process of going to live events, maybe because I do it so rarely. It's still fun to be sitting in the stands, in the (somewhat) fresh air, watching the good ol' CFL. That having been said, most of what I saw was the Argos getting pummeled to the point of being down 26-14 with 10 minutes left. As my dad often does when that happens, he got us to leave. What were the chances, we figured, of the Argos coming back when they had been playing so badly?

They won, of course, 27-26.

Damn, damn, damn...

***Uber-edit here, that shall probably concern only one other person. One of the ads that ran during the Argos game would have been recognized by a rare few as being the theme to the one and only 80's cop show, Forbzy and Lamarshe. I figured Joel'd like to know that. Out.

Nast-algia.

2005-07-11T18:24:00.000-04:00

It seems to me these days that 80's throwbacks and nostalgia is everywhere. In our music, our tv shows, even our breakfast cereals, man! All I want to know, as a humble man with a humble question, is why? What the fuck made the 80's such hot shit that it continues to set the pop cultural curve 25-15 years later?

Personally, I blame VH-1, and its mooching Canadian counterpart, MuchMoreMusic. This is speaking from a strictly North American standpoint, of course. China, for example, gets nostalgic for the 80's by killing perceived enemies of the state in rigged show trials before full stadiums full of screaming fans. Although, they never actually stopped killing perceived enemies of the state between now and the 80's, so that might not really count as nostalgia. It's more of a closely-held tradition that brings families together.

Back to VH-1 though, and pop music channels flogging this old crap to us over and over again. Here's a quick bit of math: people who experienced at least one of their formaitve teenage years in the 80's (let's say 14-19) were born, at the earliest, in 1961, or at the latest, in 1975. So this makes anyone between 30 and 44 years old eligible to wax nostalgic about 80's pop culture. Yet, as I scan through photos in google (searched for "the 80's"), all I see is a bunch of goddamn high school and university kids playing 80's dress-up for the school dance. Some of these people weren't even born in the 80's! Take my sister. Born in '91, she "loves" the show "I Love The 80's"! Why? You weren't even there! Do you look at these people and say "man, I wish I had been there for that"? Well take this!

Sweet, check it out, an example of both bad 80's fashion AND bad 80's music.

Yeah, I sure wish I was around to emulate these guys. Personally, I would have gone for the "cat-head sillhouette" that the second guy from the left has.

You know, I never see anyone getting all misty eyed for the 50's or the 40's, and making TV shows about it. Remember that swing music resurgence? Yeah, neither do I. In fact, I'm pretty sure that the 60's, 70's, and 80's are the only decades anyone actually gets nostalgic for. I saw a picture in my google search that was from the website of an elementary school that had a "Decade's Day" or something, where kids from grade six wore 60s clothes, grade seven wore 70's clothes, and grade eight wore 80's clothes. Why couldn't 4th or 5th grade kids dress in the style of their respective decades? I suppose World War II, the Red Scare and Leave it to Beaver don't make for easy-to-craft costumes from your parents wardrobes. Which leads to my first theory.

Most modern kids' parents weren't around for anything earlier than the 60's, so therefore, those are the decades they have to draw upon for nostalgia. Each decade can be summed up with a simple value.

60's: free love, hippie crap
70's: nihilism
80's: greed

Of these choices, which do you think most parents would most like to instill in their children? If you said free love, you would be right, expect for the fact that most of these free-loving hippies are now,

a) card-carrying-conservatives
or,
b) dead.

No, the correct answer of course, is greed! Hell, of those three values, it's the only one that actually worked out for anyone, even if those people were coke-snorting, ladder-climbing assholes. And here's where things come full circle: imagine how much money the purveyors of pop culture save by recycling stuff from 20 years ago! Why waste time trying to expose people to the new stuff, when you can just sell them the old stuff! Greed, baby; greed is good!

So there it is. The 80's generation, the people who nominally run things these days, have taken their memories of their youth and made them a prominent part of the 21st century culture-scape. Modern musicians struggle to get face time, but people will watch a TV show about rapidly decomposing band INXS. What to do, what to do?

I have no real solution (and fuck you for expecting one), except to ignore it until, if there is a god (and mounting evidence suggests otherwise), it disappears from the face of the Earth. Then we can begin propping up our music and pop culture to foist upon our children. Some people would say that this is merely perpetuating the problem, but those people forget one thing. MY MUSIC RULES.

Ahh, the hell with it. There's only one way I'll be able to survive this madness.

My poofy combed back hair, hawaiian shirt, and 5 0'clock shadow shall help me ride out this 80's fueled storm. A pastel suit would seal the deal. But alas...

Window Dressings

2005-07-09T01:14:00.000-04:00

Notes to self: I should add the following to this here shrine to myself.

1. Lists. Like, '10 things I hate about Brampton', or "an awesome list of awesomeness'

2.A variety of photos that expands beyond Studio Q screen captures. Joel (whose awesome blog of awesomeness I intend to link to after I write this) seems to want this, and who am I to refuse?

3. Reviews of games that I think need reviewing. This would be a warm-up to prepare me for my attempt to fufill my secret fantasy of writing a video games column for The Journal next year.

4. More complaints. I can't be sure, but I think my high school reputation as a curmudgeonly cynic has suffered since going to Queen's. Probably because I actually enjoy university. Nevertheless, as long as I'm stuck in Brampton, I have a bottomless pool of bitching to draw from.

I think I'm going to write something about how much I hate 80's nostalgia next. Because man oh man, I hate 80's nostalgia. Tristan out.

Now for something a bit more level-headed...

2005-07-07T21:32:00.000-04:00

Given my lack of productivity this summer, a self-indulgent and exhibtitionistic (real word?) blog seemed like a good idea. Not a good day to start.

Today at work, while I was on break, I watched the morning news. Four bombs in London, within one hour.

I feel a kinship with London. I lived in England for three years when I was a kid. My dad took the train there everyday, and we went plenty of times as a family. My family's roots are in the U.K. I still have plenty of family there. Not to downplay 9/11, but I felt closer to England and London than I ever could to New York. I don't know why that is, but it is. Maybe it's because I've never been to New York before. Maybe it's because New York is firmly attached to the rest of the U.S., and that often unpleasant habit of "blame the victim" has dug it's way into me, when it comes to 9/11.

Let's be honest here. There are a lot of things I don't like about the U.S. I don't like the attitude that gets put across to the international community ("we're America, what're you gonna do about it?"). I don't like the slippery slope towards theocracy that the Republican government is forcing the nation down, a nation that is far more compliant with than than they should be. I look at a country that has power to make things better in the world, and see a majority of people that only care about who got voted off of American Idol most recently. I don't like to judge, but someone's got to give the American people a shake, tell them to get of the couch and go for a bike ride and see the rest of the world. As a nation, an entity, it wants to have all the power, but wants everyone else to leave it the hell alone.

But I would never, ever use those feelings to justify the mass murder of individuals who are just trying to eke out an existence like the rest of us. That anyone can (justify it), is a sign of the depravity those people possess. People going to work, living their lives, content. Gone in a moment.

A co-worker said that the people who did this should just be taken out back and shot. I nod my head, give them the standard "mmm", but mull this over in my head for a bit longer. Can I really want something like that? Can anyone? I don't think I'd be upset to hear that every member of al Qaeda had been dragged over jagged rocks for 3000 miles, but still, we're trying to maintain a civilization here. We can't turn it on and off as it pleases us.

I'm getting sidetracked though. People die in London, we watch it on the news, are shocked, but in a little while it'll just be another memory, another proof of our crazy world that's beyond our own control. It's on the other side of the Atlantic. It's another country.

I want to punch something; I want to turn of the T.V.; part of me almost wants to cry at the whole thing. But none of that actually happens. I just sit there, like everyone else, and keep watching. Until my break is over and I have to go back to work. Because over here, an ocean away, life must go on.

July 7, 2005: Inaugural Posting. Drinks to follow.

2005-07-07T20:36:00.000-04:00

And with a thunderous roar, it was done. The effects would ripple through the Internets for generations. Old websites would tell their young webpages stories of where they were when it happened, and the little pages would float there in cyberspace enraptured by the vivid retelling of the day that changed everything. On that day when it was created. When nothing would ever be the same.

IT came from the cyber-depths!

IT was no mere journal!

IT was....BLOG!!!!!!!!