What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
(and remember, you can always e-mail me if you love or loathe anything you're about to read)...


   Saturday, November 22, 2003

OH YEAH...ABOUT MICHAEL JACKSON...

I don't care.

Not a bit. Not one way or the other.
The parents should never -- never -- have allowed their children to be alone with him, not after ten years of allegations, true or not. The whole thing smells of witchhunt but, in any case, I'd like MuchMoreMusic to stop running that damned Martin Bashir documentary four times a day, every day.

Just drive Frankenstein's monster over the cliff and end it, already!

WHERE THE HELL AM I?

We're one week away from The Move and, if my schedule before now seemed ludicrous, it's absolutely surreal right now. Before my nighttime hours at the pub, blocking kids and drunks for a few hours, I spend my days opening boxes and sorting inventory for the store, then going home to sort belongings and pack them into boxes.

I'm becoming allergic to cardboard.

Thankfully, I was able to take a bit of a break today -- I checked out my co-worker Matt's performance in Ryerson Dances 2003. He was terrific, as was the overall show. The final piece, "Indigo Moods," was choreographed by Ryerson teacher Vicki St. Denys to a selection of blues from Ronnie Earl and I'd never seen a mixture of blues and ballet done before. It was fluid, sexy and fun -- best thing I've seen in a theatre in quite a while.

Tomorrow, it's off to Hamilton to celebrate my father's birthday. There hasn't been much visiting on my part these last couple months so the birthday's timing is ideal (at least in that regard -- as far as The Move goes, I find myself wondering why he couldn't have been born in January).

This weekend also marks the 40th anniversaries of both John F. Kennedy's assassination and the first broadcast of "Doctor Who". To celebrate, I leaned out the window of a book depository with a rifle, screaming "Exterminate!"

I'll get my coat.

Labels: Doctor Who

MATT RELOADS, AIMS AND FIRES

Another negative review for "The Matrix Revolutions" is obviously superfluous, but Slate's Matt Feeney has a piece that sums up my own irritation with these unnecessary sequels perfectly.

And, while we're on the subject, I must once again quote my friend Darrell quoting his wife Beth: "How is it that the only characters with a sense of humour belonged to the Matrix?" Amen, sister!

THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH MY PENIS

Really.
It's fine.
Every damn time I open my e-mail, dozens of messages insist that I read them if I am "serious and interested in gaining length and width to your penis!"
I'm rarely serious and definitely not interested.

So, for the last time, I am truly quite happy with my present penis, thank you.

GOOD NEWS ALL AROUND

This popped up in my e-mail box:

Hi everyone,
Well, I made it back home in one piece (for those who don't know, I was deported for a couple of weeks) and got back just in time to go to my Terri's ultrasound appointment. We're having a boy!
-- Josh

News so good, I didn't even mind the nineteen pieces of spam. Throw in last night's election of David Miller as Toronto's new mayor and suddenly everything looks so much brighter.

Labels: friends

IF IT'S MONDAY, NOVEMBER 10th, STOP READING THIS

Go vote.
Now.
Unless you're not in Toronto, then do what you like.
But if you ARE in Toronto?
VOTE!
Stop looking at this screen! I'm really quite serious!

OK, that's enough nagging. Let's move on...

Labels: Trawna

A FINE DAY

Late-day drinks with gallery-owner Dennis O'Connor and artist Daniel Barkley, mid-day shopping for winter boots and new-home furnishings and a noon-ish brunch with Mark, who seems to really like me and, boy, I really like him.

Life is good sometimes.

NOW IF THEY COULD JUST LET THE BUFFALO KEEP THEIR WINGS

First things first: I think the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals do a wonderful job of consciousness-raising and such vigourous activism is welcome in an apathetic age like this. That said, they do scare me a little.

PETA's aggressive campaigning borders on the fanatic occasionally but, more often, just ends up being silly and nothing I've seen lately is as funny as the headline "Pamela Anderson Speaks Out for Chickens." Apparently, the former "Baywatch" star is most upset -- and rightfully so -- at KFC, whose horrific treatment of chickens goes well beyond merely frying them Kentucky-style.

I just love that it falls to Pamela Anderson to get this injustice sorted. Apparently, "Seinfeld's" Jason Alexander was dropped from his subsequent job as KFC pitchman after PETA showed him some videos of poultry-torture. The story goes that he then asked the suits at KFC if they could find less barbaric ways of preparing the animals for dinner and his TV commercial contract was mysteriously ended. KFC claims that this is merely a coincidence, as in this hilarious bit of PR.

So let's hope Pamela can succeed where Jason failed. After all, the chickens are counting on her!

SIGNS, SIGNS, EVERYWHERE SIGNS

Now that Toronto has finally scraped Mel Lastman out of City Hall, we've got five new mayoral candidates to choose from this coming Monday. What's so handy about this election is the ease in deciding -- for once, you can actually get a sense of the candidate from his or her campaign poster:

"Tom Jakobek gets the job done"
What job? Shifty back-room deals for fat cats? Those get done.

"John Nunziata -- Standing up for Toronto"
Another gorgeously vague slogan. Was "sitting down for Toronto" taken? And, if elected, would any of these five NOT stand up for the city? I can see it now: "John Tory -- Taking a pass on Toronto" or "Barbara Hall -- Preferring Oakville"

"John Tory -- A man of action for a city that needs it"
Gee thanks for depressing us, John. After eight years of Tory...I guess I should say conservative...'fat-cutting', there's not much left for this town. Only trouble is, these were John's PALS.

Barbara Hall has a series of posters, each with a single, abstract concept like "Ideas" or "Experience." As fuzzy and indistinct as the candidate herself!

David Miller too has a series of different slogans, though his are longer:
"Looks like a mayor. Thinks like a mayor. Talks like a neighbour." Also, "Extraordinary vision. Extraordinary leadership. Extraordinary hair." Punchy, smart and funny. Too good to be true?

I'll base my decision on more than just posters, of course, but I have to say that David Miller has my vote pretty well locked up. I like what I see and what I hear, as opposed to what little I've seen and heard from my once-beloved Barbara Hall. She looked great up against Mel but, when she decided not to run against him last time -- giving him even more years to destroy this city -- I lost a lot of faith.

So brush that hair, David, and start talking like a neighbour, 'cause I'll be at the ballot box on Monday.

Labels: Trawna