After the season of spending

I could barely believe it when I heard that the average Canadian would spend about $900 this holiday season on gifts. But then I spent almost that much, so now I believe it. With all that money now gone, people are probably tightening up the purse strings now and looking to conserve and save in the coming months, right? Well, not if you're from Alberta. Because hey, who needs to save when you have oil?

This article from the Globe and Mail is about the $400 rebate that will be given to Albertans early this coming year. I think that a person's response to this will provide a good example as to their priorities - seeing if they can put their money where their mouth is, basically. It does not surprise me at all that many people are just planning to spend it on toys and clothes - the evident priority there being "me." Some are planning on home improvement - I would say that goes to personal comfort, and some investment for the future. And even the President of the Young Liberals of Alberta, who is trying to convince others to donate a portion of their money to the party that opposes the handout, will be using his money on books for school. Of course, he was going to have to buy books regardless, so now he will just have $400 more with which he may buy more beer or buy a new camera for all we know.

I do believe the expression people are living by here is, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." While there are many who call this handout a bad idea, I am pretty confident that there are not very many who are going to refuse to cash the cheques when the time comes. I would probably put myself in this group of people. However, as was pointed out in the article, if you think that this money would be better spent on other projects, you now have free reign to make that happen. $400 probably won't go very far toward advancing solar or wind power in the province, it won't protect a very large area of wetlands, and it won't even buy a single day in the hospital for someone who is sick. However, this is a chance for you to put some money you weren't expecting toward something you believe in. You could make a donation to the Stollery Children's Health Centre. You could put your money toward your local SPCA, or sponsor a child through World Vision - that would be $396/year. Maybe you want to help support the Edmonton Firefighters Burn Treatment Society. Ducks Unlimited Canada aims to conserve Canada's dwindling wetlands while the World Wildlife Fund supports conservation on a broader scale. You can even sponsor a sea turtle, a polar bear, or some boreal forest on their website.

Obviously there are a million things that could use this money, not the least of which will appear to be a new TV or digital camera that you really "need." While I haven't decided yet where my money is going, I sure hope when the time comes I can put MY money where my mouth is. I will have to decide before the cheque arrives - that way, I will send the money off right away and I won't even miss it in my bank account. What are you doing with yours?

Christmas

Merry Christmas everyone. It is great to be back with family and friends. This reminds me of how many people who can't be with their family over the holidays, and perhaps you could think of them too.




TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE
MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY
WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO
IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,
A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT
CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,
IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER
ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.

THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,
SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR
IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,
THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
NOT AT ALL HOW I
PICTURED A SOLDIER.

WAS THIS THE HERO
OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,
THE FLOOR FOR A BED?

I REALIZED THE FAMILIES
THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS
WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON ROUND THE WORLD,
THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.

THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM
EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,
LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN'T HELP WONDER
HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE
IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.

THE VERY THOUGHT
BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES
AND STARTED TO CRY.

THE SOLDIER AWAKENED
AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
"SANTA DON'T CRY,
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;

I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,
I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD,
MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER
AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,
I CONTINUED TO WEEP.

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,
SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE
ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF FREEDOM
SO WILLING TO FIGHT.

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,
WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA,
IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."

ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,
AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,
AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."

They're back

Just a little update here, if you were interested in the previous post. Order restored in Sydney, and obviously the police don't plan to be caught with their trousers around their ankles again.

An anti-racism rally is a nice idea. However, it seems that less than half as many people attended that rally as were involved in the riot on the first day. Too bad.

How I feel

I'm not a very emotional guy.

I know, I know, stop the presses. But sometimes, maybe once in a blue moon, there is some semblance of emotion eminating from inside me. This time, that emotion is anger. And there is a lot of it.


I can't believe this crap. If you have been living under a rock, perhaps you don't know that that picture is from Sydney, where a huge crowd of white guys decided they were the only ones who belong in the country (after a couple of lifeguards were attacked by youth of Arabic or Mediterranean background), and then the targeted groups struck back the next day. Read here and here, and check out more images here. I actually heard a guy on the news yelling at a camera, "This is our country, git the hell out!" Excuse me? It's your country? And why is that, exactly? Because you grew up in Australia? And what about your parents or grandparents, did they grow up in Australia? Oh, no, they were immigrants too? Well maybe someone should have told THEM to get the hell out because they were going to conceive racist offspring. If you are really keen to read about Australia's "White History" read here.

Now, if you want to be a racist, there is nothing that I, personally, can do about that. But if you want to go beat someone down because he or she doesn't belong in "your" country, then you deserve to be taken down by the police. And if you decide that your feelings are more important than the police, and that you are going to attack them too, as well as attacking the paramedics trying to give aid to the person you just beat up...oh man.

When I see people going after police officers (especially over injured and dead victims), I think of everytime someone told me, "We don't need them, the people will take care of each other," or, "I think we should just all get along, they don't need to carry guns or batons," or, "We live in a peaceful country, we don't need an army." And you know what I think about what you said to me? I think that you have your head up your ass. And if you think it doesn't matter in Canada, because hey, this violence is in Australia, perhaps you should try to find two countries that are more similar in their development in the world. I don't think you will find many.

Obviously the authorities had not been prepared for this violence when it broke out. Hence the images I saw of a police officer trying to run away from angry mobs, firing toward them with pepper spray, pulling with him a victim of the mob's anger. Do you know what I would like to see when this happens? As you may be able to guess, I'm not anarchist, and I believe in order, so what do you think I would like to see? Should we stand in front of them and say, "Hey, hey guys? Can we talk about this?" Or maybe we could send a text message to all of the rioters (apparently that is how messages are being spread quickly there) saying, "Come on, we live in a good country, let's not hurt each other!" No. Because there is a time for talking, and then there is a time for action. Yes, this riot could well be the result of a deeper problem, same with the riots in France. But this was a time for action. And I think that, ten minutes after we saw the first police officer being pelted by beer cans, we should have seen the same thing we saw on Whyte Ave in Edmonton a few years ago for the Canada Day riot. That is, van-loads of armour-clad and shield- and baton-bearing riot police, who ran into formation and then advanced in a line one step at a time, in a very organized fashion, clearing the roads and arresting by appropriate force anyone arrogant enough to try to be a hero by running at them.

An individual's security will never be enforced by a pledge that says, "Ok, everyone here has to be nice to everyone else." Sometimes, you just have to ensure that the good guys have the legal capacity as well as the physical ability to maintain a safe environment (while respecting the individual's rights). In the same way, a country will not be safe simply by not hurting any other country, nor by being a peacekeeper. I am in no way claiming that it is a bad idea to do so, of course. But if you see the videos of these riots, look at the guy at the bottom of a mob being kicked and punched until he is nearly dead. That could be the nicest guy you ever met. And he isn't going to be saved nor protected by even the most effective pacifist in the world.

On being fat

Check out this article in The Globe and Mail, on Canada's growing obese demographic. In 2004, 23% of Canadians were obese and 36% were overweight. Average weight for a man is now 82 kg, compared to about 76kg in the late 70s. Women are up to 69kg from under 62kg.

The article is concentrated on the changes that industry is making to accomodate these larger frames, andI couldn't help but think of how this is just encouraging obesity. I have very little sympathy for someone who doesn't fit in an airplane seat because they weight 300 lbs. I certainly have sympathy for the person who is sitting beside said person, though. Though there may be a genetic or even a viral link to obesity, that does not mean a person has no way out of it. That seems to me like having a history of alcoholism in your family, and becoming an alcholic and blaming it on genes. No, it is because you drink that there is a problem. Or perhaps smoking for 20 years, getting lung cancer, and blaming it on your oncagene. No, it is because you smoked.

Same story with your eating and exercise habits, but with a major difference. If you are obese, you are not stuck with it. It requires YOUR willpower to get back in shape. And if you keep that willpower, you are not in danger of relapsing into obesity, or its accompanyinf medical conditions (type II diabetes, hypertension, stroke, and others). For a more complete list, and the correlation between BMI and risk, see here.

Of course, capitalism trumps any wish for a turnaround in human behaviour here. If there is a demand for a chair that hold 400 pounds, and there is money to pay for it, then that chair will be built. I am not trying to stop capitalism by any means, but in this case it seems to be working against itself, not realizing the true costs. The huge health costs for this totally preventable disease will be borne by society. If we want to keep the health care system functional, I think we need to get more into the prevention business. After all, a penny of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

A backup career

Maybe I should have been an accountant.

Does that seem far-fetched? And why I think about being an accountant? Ok, I really have no desire whatsoever to do that. I just like getting numbers for things. Here are some of the numbers I have figured out lately:

-75.99% of my gross monthly salary is accounted for by automatic withdrawls. That doesn't include food, gas, extra minutes on the phone, that sort of thing.

-Today, I lifted a total of about 32 215 pounds at the gym. Geez, I wonder what I would look like if I could do that all at once.

-An Air Mile's value, in respect to earned flights, depends on your carrier. For a standard Air Canada flight it is worth somewhere around $0.18 - $0.30. That definitely makes it a better deal to get my $0.075/L discount at Superstore then to go to Shell for Air Miles (not to mention Shell's not-so-stellar human rights record).

-I have consumed 5kg of peanut butter in about 5 months. That is a little under 32 000 kcal, just in peanut butter.

So now you know some more useless numbers. Maybe I will just stick with my current job and do the calculating in my free time....

Ye Olde Times

Holy crap...it's 2005 already? And almost 2006??? Where did all the time go? I guess time flies when you're....when you're... What am I doing again, exactly?

I remember younger days. Days when I thought that the Dodge Stealth was THE car to have. Days where I didn't need technology to entertain me, but when I did it was Police Quest on the computer, with its small grey rectangle with a little blue bar across it representing my police cruiser. When the important decisions of the day related to whether or not to wear a toque, because it was cold, or not, because maybe it wasn't "cool?" I remember one of my all-time favourite lunch-hour and recess games, Wild Snides. I certainly wouldn't care about a 8:1 male-female ratio, because girls couldn't stop me in Wild Snides so what good were they to me anyway? My most important money decisions involved slurpee vs. mars bar when I went to the Happy Mart. Anywhere I needed to go, and everywhere I could imagine going, was within biking distance. My Christmas list was at least 20 items long - I KNEW what I wanted from life, and that was The Wheel remote control car. Lollipop park behind my house, hiding in the "lollipops" like they were spaceships.

No, this post isn't going anywhere. No grand conclusion here. I just hope I am doing things now that, when I look back in ten or twenty years, will seem just as good as my last twenty have been.

Number crunching

There are only three places where I go nearly every day. These three consist of my room, my work, and the gym. Since these are the places I frequent, I thought I should do a quick head count to see what I could come up with in regards to demographics. And this is what I found:

My place - just me
My work - 9 males, 2 females
Cardio room - 20 males, 4 females
Weight room - 26 males, 2 females

So altogether, we have a male:female ratio of exactly 8:1. And, I would like to add, the total number of females that meet the two criteria of a) being under 40 years old; and b) likely weighing less than me (at 80kg) equalled exactly one. That brings the ratio to 56:1.

Sure, there might be interesting or even pressing current events going on in the outside world right now. But I couldn't help but write this post about myself. Because with odds like that, I should have a long long future of posting here, with no female to interfere with my time.

Note: Yes I DO have a girlfriend, and yes it is all going great. Just observations, that's all. And everyone is always wondering why I have a long-distance girlfriend...

Fans in the east

Well, I figure Winnipeg is east, anyway. And that is where I gathered with several other Eskimo fans and one person cheering for Montreal just to spite us, to watch the 93rd Grey Cup game in Vancouver.

After a low-scoring start, this turned into one of the best CFL games I have ever seen. There was much yelling and pizza-eating and beer-drinking and hugging and anguish and joy among us fans. In the end, our Eskies came through 38-35 in OT. I knew you had it in you.

A penny of motivation buys a pound of pain

Sometimes all it takes is the smallest bit of motivation to cause me to regret motivation for several days. On Saturday, I had this motivation, and it was in the form of an exercise program. I have never really had an exercise program before. I have had ones that I have designed myself, and seeing as I studied that kind of crap in university you might think I would be able to create a good program. But the thing about that is, designing one's own program is the best excuse for changing/shortening it mid-workout. "Oh yeah, I know I said I have 2 more exercises, but I don't feel like it. And since I am the designer, what I decide will be what happens." But the program I just started was designed for a friend's brother. And it is crazy.

So on Saturday I went for Day 4 of the program. After the usual slack warm-up on the bike and ineffectual stretching, I got into shoulder exercises. There is very little rest time, and I am already tired after the first 3 exercises.

After that, it was straight on to legs. Now I have just finished 3 sets of squats. Lowering myself down so slowly and taking no rest at the top makes for a very empty-looking bar compared to my usual poorly performed reps, yet I am sweating hard and getting worn out. My legs are trembling slightly. And after that, I have 3 more sets of squats with my feet set wide apart. At the end of each set I can feel my own muscles pulling on me, and my sight becomes ever-so-slightly blurred as I crash the bar back down off of a bent-over back onto its supports.

I feel like I am going to be sick.

On to lunges on the Smith machine, one leg at a time. Now I don't just want to leave the gym, I want to lay down right there and die. As I make a trip to the water fountain after a set, my knee buckles and almost lets me fall. If I had made this same crazy program myself, I would definitely conclude it was foolish at this point and call it off. But I have that little piece of paper telling me I have to do more.

So I load up the leg press with what little weight I can do at this point. After every set, I writhe for a few moments in the agony of the acid overwhelming my legs and the fact that I am destroying my own muscles. My eyes cringe shut and my teeth clench. I think that there are others in the gym, those who are going half-speed, who think I look ridiculous. But I barely even notice anyone around me, preoccupied by shaking legs and Rise Against screaming in my ear.

After a painful finish, I take on the hamstring curl machine. The backs of my legs had been left somewhat unscathed; now, they are taking an equal beating. I finish that and find myself hoping that there is someone on the squat rack so I can't do my next exercise. Despite all odds, it is still free so I move on to deadlifts to further destroy my hamstrings. I put almost no weight on the bar, but find that I can barely stabilize my back. Time to move on before I do some long-term damage.

Now I get to target those same stabilizers. I walk as upright as my legs will allow to the stretching room, pulling out the abs ball to start on crunches. When I can't do any more, I slide off the ball onto my ass, hitting lightly against the wall. I close my eyes for a second. My legs still burn. When I reopen my eyes, I look at my legs and they aren't where I thought they were. My left leg is bent with my knee up close to my head while my right leg is sprawled out and to the side. I can feel them so accutely, but I can't even really tell where they are? I wonder for a moment if that is what it would be like to have them amputated. And I think that's probably not the first thing I should ask someone with no legs.

Now reverse crunches. V-sits. I am certainly not feeling very good. Why am I still doing this? Because that little piece of paper says "V sits. 2 sets. Failure."? Because if I leave it just means I will have to do homework earlier? Why am I really here? What the..? How do I start contemplating life and death laying sprawled out on a gym mat? I think I can get up...yeah, I'm up. Hobbling tentatively toward the locker room. Walking home through the snow drifts is not going to be fun. Thank goodness for little mercies...Tomorrow is a day off.

The Public...Works?

Check out this article. It is on the subject of the federal Department of Public Works, which has essentially just issued a moratorium on the hiring of white, able-bodied males. Discrimination with the goal of eliminating discrimination? Doesn't sound like a solution to me. Hopefully they don't do the same with my department, we wouldn't have anyone left.

Thank you Justin for the link.

Team Update

An important update on the Superfriends of JC Brown:

Starting players "T-Money" Taylor and "Strakattack" Strachan will not be facing criminal prosecution for their role in the events on the eve of the dodgeball tournament.

Just to remind you, the two players were apprehended by hotel security in the hotel pool after-hours, having crawled down the waterslide (since no water was running down it) and having sunk several empty beer cans to the bottom of the pool. They espcaped from security after a brief encounter, and fled into the area surrounding the hotel (at approximately 3am). They then called Yours Truly for assistance, including bringing them shoes and a shirt. They returned to the hotel room, but we were awakened an hour later by four members of the city police department. The young and slightly inebriated men were finally persuaded to wake up after some physical prodding by the officers, and taken away in 'cuffs. The police listened to their story and decided that charges were not necessary. The security guard insisted, so the case was passed to the Crown for review. News came today that the Crown has thrown out the case.

All friends of the Superfriends, rejoice!

America is funny

This was found at www.satirewire.com. It may contradict any support for the US that I may or may not have been perceived as showing in the previous post. And it is awesome. And hopefully I am allowed to show it to you.

AMERICANS ANNOYED BY "ALL THIS
INTERNATIONAL SHIT" ON INTERNET
Web's Increasingly Worldly Flavor Threatens Americans' Worldview

PULLMAN, WASH. (SatireWire.com) — The profusion of international news available on the Internet has made it increasingly difficult for the average American to ignore the rest of the world, a trend researchers say threatens Americans' long, proud history of disregarding anything not about them.

"With all the foreign newspapers and multi-cultural sites, the Internet is making it almost impossible for the average American to remain uninformed and apathetic," said Samantha Lessborn of Washington State University, which conducted the survey. "Americans can still do it. But it now takes effort, whereas before it was as easy as turning off Tom Brokaw whenever he said 'In South Korea today...'"

According to survey participant Danny Grisham, a 22-year-old from Cheyenne, Wyoming, it's not just the plethora of international news on the Web that is irritating. "Look, I can get around the news. I just turn off Reuters headlines in MyYahoo," he said. "But even some of the search sites like Yahoo and Alta Vista are available in different languages. Like everybody in the world doesn't speak English. Yeah, right."

"I can see where it's important if we're, like, beating some country in the Olympics or bombing them or, ideally, both," Grisham added. "But if some Colombian drug lord sinks a ferry full of Israeli soldiers in North Latvoania or Serbo-Malaysia, or wherever, and Americans aren't involved, what has that got to do with me?"

Other respondents said they were appalled, not just by the availability of non-U.S. news, but by the way important U.S. news is reported by some of these foreign sites. "Yesterday, for instance, the St. Louis Rams beat the Atlanta Falcons, OK, and I go to the London Times site and it's not even there," said Chip Pernadge of Kansas City, Mo. "Jesus, no wonder those guys lost the war and had to give Hong Kong back to Canada."

Sensing a market opportunity, Net Nanny, makers of Net Nanny filtering software, announced this week it will introduce NetNarrow, an English-only product that automatically filters out content that appears to be international. Specifically, the software looks for world datelines and keywords indicative of irrelevant foreign stories, including "Shiite," "post-Apartheid," and "Bob Geldof."

Survey-taker Craig Barker of Brooklyn, New York, said he will be among the first to get NetNarrow. "On the Web, there are so many ways to get news from so many different places, I could really get some fresh insights into what's going on in other countries if I wanted to," he said.. "But I don't want to."

"You'd think these Internet people would know that," Barker added. "I mean, that's why the Internet is called America Online, right? It's supposed to be about America."

Editor's Note: It seems that after reading this entirely fictional story, some investors/customers of Net Nanny believed the company actually was going to produce NetNarrow software. As a result, Net Nanny asked SatireWire to please assure people that this is not the case. No, really.

Copyright © 2000-2001, SatireWire.

Southern Neighbours

This is a very interesting article in today's National Post, entitled, "Sometimes, making peace means making war," by well-known Canadian author J.L. Granatstein. This is the first in a five-part series that will explore myths that Canadians have about The United States, and focuses on the general Candian-held belief that Americans are big bullies who use violent force and never achieve anything, while we go out and use hugs and kisses and blue berets to solve the rest of the world's problems. While I certainly don't claim to support American foreign policy, this article certainly helps to put a more historical perspective on relative success and failure in peacekeeping vs. peacemaking. Perhaps our world achievements aren't all we try to make them out to be.

On a side note, due to the minority government, a major foreign policy review which could have addressed these issues (and which would have led to a review of how our military is used as a foreign policy tool) turned into a small paper hardly worthy of mention.

Remembrance

For those who would trade time with their family for distant lands. Who would knowingly give up comfort for agony. They would trade their happiness for fear. Give up the years of their youth to conditions no man should have to bear. And to those who would rather die than have us live in a wold without family, friends, happiness and freedom. You are not forgotten.

Some light reading

Is it necessary, if one claims or wants to be a member of a religion, to accept all the doctrine of that religion?

Holy crap. I have no idea, really. I was raised as a Roman Catholic, but clearly there are parts of the Catechism that I don't agree with and which seem counter to the morals I have ingrained in me, whether by birth or upbringing. But then, as I read Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, I am confused. Mr. Lewis, author of The Chronicles of Narnia and many other books, was a very respected author and professor and was an atheist until he went about trying to disprove Christianity and instead because Christian himself. He says that one must totally accept the religion in all its aspects in order to be true, not only to the religion, but to oneself and to God.

The problem is as follows: He says that man's sense of morality can only come from God, and it is in fact in this way that the existence of a superior being is proven. Every civilization has had similar morals throughout history (though widely varying rules accompanying them). Morals that don't agree with these standards are said to be "perverted." For example, a man who enjoys kicking a dog has a perverted sense of pleasure. It also says a man's love of another man is perverted. Basically, the doctrine of a religion is to support and possibly even enforce these mores. So if I disagree with them, does that make me perverted? But isn't it God who gave me my sense of morality? Did I just screw it up? Or does it just mean that I am lazy? There are only 4 Cardinal Virtues - those of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. Does adhering to those seem so difficult? Why this "doctrine" around them? Clearly "Do to others as you would have done to you" is nothing new. But then, ss drunkeness really a roadblock on a path in pursuit of perfection, as the doctrine would claim? Does indulging an appetite, whether for drink or for sexuality, really lead away from God?

I recently read a book on Buddhism. That author also said that in order to achieve the aims of the religion it is necessary to fully embody everything it says. While it is possible to go halfway, you will not get anything out of it. Is this why so many young people are disenchanted with Christianity and organized religion in general these days? Is it because we do not have the motivation or desire to follow it to its ends? Or do we prefer science and what can be proven? Or perhaps we can only see taking a stand against religion as taking a stand, while defending religion is old-fashioned or close-minded or just plain wrong.

So what if I don't want to follow a specific religion? They all claim great things, such as eternal life or nirvana, etc, and their purpose seems to be to show the meaning of life to their followers. But maybe I don't believe it. Or maybe it's just that I don't feel like abiding by all these pesky rules that are required. Maybe I could live "just to be happy," and that would be enough. But probably not. Einstein once called that outlook, "The pigsty mentality," and I am inclined to agree. Should I only experience love so I feel good about it? Should I only serve others so that I can further my own interests? What about beauty and truth and everything else I have a chance to experience - is that just to make me happy? If I determine my standards, the point where I will make a stand, on a piecemeal basis, is that going to make my world better or worse? Or do I even care?

Though books and preachers and bibles and rabbis and monks will tell you what you must do, it all means nothing. Each one of us must decide for ourselves what to believe and how to embody these beliefs, and I don't think these choice can be proven right or wrong. Yet despite never being proven wrong, "what do I believe" still seems to be the most difficult question I can ever put an answer to.

My sensitivity training

SPOILER ALERT
I'm talking about a movie here, so though I doubt I will ruin it for you...you've been warned.

I watched Jarhead last night. The major question that arises for me out of that is, not about war or foreign politics, but, "Why are people in the theatre laughing at parts of the movie that really aren't funny?" I had this same feeling after watching Farenheit 9/11. Clearly there are parts designed to be funny. And I agree it could be considered funny that a bunch of Marines have to build a 5m tall pyramid of sandbags in the rain, and as soon as they finish they have to take it down. Or maybe you may even think it is funny when a young recruit gets his head smashed into a chalkboard. But it a guy snapping from stress and threatening to kill his buddy really funny? Or a guy vomiting because he is surrounded by death - that makes you laugh?

Maybe it is just because these situations just seem so far-fetched, so unbelievable to us living in Canada because we only see that sort of crap on TV. Maybe I am just bitter because I am too comfortable. I am quite sure that people get immune to seeing that stuff, but I didn't think it would bring on laughter. There were a few kids, maybe 10 or 12 years old, leaving the movie theatre in front of me. One was saying to the others that this movie should have been considered a comedy because it was so damn funny. Really? A movie about a war is funny? A bunch of 18-25 year-old Americans sucking on sand and oil for six months while their enemies are fried by bombs and their wives sleep with their neighbours should be a comedy? I'm no psychologist, but are we supposed to laugh at the plight of other people, especially when clearly it is a true story?

I don't know. Maybe I'm just too sensitive.

Pumpkins and Superfriends

Hallowe'en - when else can you dress up in ridiculous clothes, put on face paint, get ridiculously drunk with friends, and beg strangers for candy?

Oh wait...I do that every weekend. In any case, this past weekend was the big Hallowe'en party. The several hundred dollars of entertainment included lights and a fog machine, a keg, bobbing for apples, karaoke and a pinata.

As might be expected, things were broken, pumpkins were smashed, and I sang Take on Me. Here are some photos:




The hosts - and stars - of the show, The Superfriends of JC Brown.




Even (read: especially) the Superfriends need some spiritual guidance.







Gene Simmons would be proud.










Preparing for the pinata swing...after being fed beer with a high-speed delivery device.










The hockey stick swinging heard 'round the world...that pinata didn't see it coming. Ok, I didn't actually hit the pinata, I hit the clothesline made of metal cable and snapped it in two. Oops. End of party.

Hug a tree today

I thought of a number of different things to write about today. The first thing that came to mind was that I went about 20 hours without drinking anything other than beer, and then went for a run today. But that would just make me look like an idiot, so let’s not talk about that. The next was that I made two delicious new meals today, but I’m pretty sure nobody reads this blog for recipes. Or maybe the fact that I talked to my great-uncle last week and he imparted all sorts of good life advice. But that is too important for my tired brain. So instead, I will tell a story about someone else.

I was working with this guy just over two years ago. He was probably a few years over 30, skinny guy just under 6 feet tall, in great shape. He may not have looked like a guy you would be worried about if you had a fight or run from him, but when he opened his mouth you knew he meant business. One day he came into work and told us what had happened at his house the night before.

We will call him Al for the sake of the story. So apparently Al had parked his truck, a not-so-impressive old Dodge, in his driveway and gone into the house as he does everyday after work. By about 11pm or so he was gone to bed. Shortly after, he heard some noise outside. Certainly not being the type to wait around a corner with a frying pan in case someone came in the door, he went outside to check it out. There, having just broken into his truck, was a soon-to-be very sorry young man. The kid saw Al coming out the door and tried to make a run for it, evidently having determined he was not going to drive away in the truck before Al got to him. Little did he know that this older man was certainly not letting him get away. Al caught the kid and tackled him. The kid wet himself. He was begging that Al not call the police or his parents. So Al, being the sympathetic type that he is, decided he wouldn’t call anybody right away. Instead he gave the kid a choice. Either the kid would stay in Al’s front yard all night, or he would call the cops. So the kid said fine…he would stay in the yard. Al drags the kid back to his house, pulls some equipment out of the basement, and somehow CHAINS THE KID TO HIS TREE. I mean, serves him right, the kid actually chose that. But he actually chained him up, put on a lock, and went in his house to bed. He woke up in the morning, went out to the tree to the very very sorry kid, unlocked him and let him go.

I can’t say I’m a big vigilante justice guy myself. But I would be willing to bet good money that this particular individual will not be trying to steal any more vehicles.

Better to come

Ok, I STILL don't have the pictures from the obstacle course. And I don't know what's wrong with my profile picture. But on the bright side, I am supposed to be getting internet within a week. On the down side...maybe not. The building I live in is so old, they're sending a tech to check it out and see if I can even get a phone. If I can, my swarms of loyal readers will be able to read much more about my exciting life. I know, I know...you're on the edge of your seats...

Thanks

In honour of our most recent holiday weekend, I would like to give out some thanks. This year, I have more things to be thankful for than I can name or even know. However, I would especially like to thank all of my friends this year.

This was the first Thanksgiving that I can remember being away from my family. In their place I had six co-workers and friends I have made here since January. We went on a “family” shopping trip on Saturday and gathered all of the things we would need for a good meal the next day. On Sunday, after I woke up off the couch in the house where all of them live (and I basically live on the weekends), we had a quick breakfast and prepared the huge dinner. Everyone put in some sort of assistance, except for one guy. We didn’t really expect him to anyway; instead he worked on his forté – entertainment. He set up an obstacle course. Anyway, the rest of us drank a few beers or glasses of wine while we actually managed to prepare an incredible meal. Before we began eating three other visitors joined us, and we all went around the room and each person told every one for what they were thankful.

After dinner we moved on to the obstacle course. I managed to pull lucky number 1, so I was first up. The timed course involved drinking a beer, spinning ten times around a pole with your forehead touching the pole, and then carrying an egg in a spoon for the remaining obstacles. These included throwing a BBQ brush to knock down a can, doing slalom through tiki torches, and crawling under a series of chairs among other things. If ever the egg fell, you had to go back to the beginning of the obstacle. If it broke, you were out. Good times were had by all, and I came nowhere near to winning due to my decision to not shotgun the beer.

So that was my thanks for my new friends. But I also include my old friends in my thanks here, because there is not much that can beat hanging out with an old friend. Since moving away from you all I have seen that sometimes the more important things are the most easily taken for granted. I have also realized that friends are not something you have to lose just because you don’t see them often or talk everyday – in fact it is the real friends who know that this isn’t necessary. So know that you are always welcome to see me here, and please save me a seat when I come by to visit. I’ll bring the drinks.

(Pictures to follow)

Who can sing? And who knew the words?

For anyone who didn’t know, I am taking a French language course fulltime. A few weeks ago, I thought it would be a good idea to learn the national anthem in French, so I asked one of the instructors if he had something on it. He gave me a written copy; here are the lyrics for those of you who don’t know them:

O Canada! Terre de nos aïeux,
Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux!

Car ton bra sait porter l’épée,
Il sait porter la croix.

Ton histoire est une épopée
Des plus brilliants exploits.

Et ta valeur, de foi trempée,
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.

Protégera nos foyers et nos droits!

Ok cool. Now, I am sure you all know that these words go to the same music as the English version, as oftentimes both languages are used in the anthem. But are the words the same? Is there even one single line that is the same? Not even close. The only part that is the same is the first two words. So here is an English translation of the French words:

O Canada! Land of our ancestors,
Your forehead is surrounded by glorious flowerets!

Because your arm knows how to carry the sword,
It knows how to carry the cross.

Your history is an epic
Of more brilliant exploits.

And your valour, soaked in faith,
Will protect our homes and our rights.

Will protect our homes and our rights.

Whoa. No standing on guard there. No love or glowing hearts, either. But keeping in mind that it actually rhymes in French, of course, it sounds pretty good. And they haven’t worried about changing it for such reasons as its “sexist” content like the English version. In fact the French version is still in original form from 1880. And hey…if it has worked for 125 years, it can work for me.

Two fingers up from The Corporation

Last night, I watched The Corporation. This is a documentary film about what it calls, “The dominant institution of our time.” Comparing it to the dominant institutions of past times such as the Church and Communism, it argues that the Corporation, too, will fall from its position of power.

Well made and logically presented, if a bit long for a documentary, the film features interviews with CEOs, reporters, business and labour experts, and even Michael Moore when he’s not busy harassing Stupid White Men. However, it doesn’t stoop to Moore’s level of harassing people or trying to make them look ridiculous with slow motion shots of prominent members of society getting their makeup done before a live broadcast. That being said, the VP of Pfizer manages to make the company look pretty bad all on his own.

Starting with the legal arguments after the American Civil War that led to the Supreme Court recognizing the Corporation as a living person, we are then led through a series of arguments on how the corporation is, by its very nature (and is in fact required by law to be), driven solely by profit. The Corporation is presented as a separate (and maybe even inherently evil, though not malevolent) entity from the real people that fill its ranks. You can see real footage of the wife of Shell’s CEO handing out coffee to protesters in front of her house, and the massive and violent government response to the people’s unrest in Bolivia over the privatization of rainwater. There is a long section on a study of a particular pharmaceutical hormone administered to dairy cows. I, for one, was happy to learn that this drug was not legal in Canada. Personalities from Nobel-prize winning economist Milton Friedman to Kathy Lee Gifford make appearances. One of the best speakers is the CEO of the world’s largest carpet producing company, who confesses to some rather startling realizations in what he referred to as an “epiphany.” Michael Moore himself is even calm and makes more convincing arguments when he is sitting in front of the camera than when he is presenting his own one-sided productions.

I would rate The Corporation as one of the best investigative documentaries I have seen. The film is thought provoking, and leaves the viewer with a sense that he or she can actually do something to prevent the Armageddon that this crazy world is headed for. So if you can take a little over 2 hours of your time to learn a little bit more about the world around you, I would recommend checking out The Corporation. It has certainly made me think twice.

No advertising fee was paid by The Corporation or any of its subsidiaries for this review.

The Injured List

An update to our friend Paul, who was injured in the dodgeball tournament:
They took some x-rays of his hand and finger. The doc said it was ok and was just "extensive soft tissue damage." She would get a second opinion, but told him to keep moving it to maintain mobility and function. That was monday. On THURSDAY they called him up and told him it was indeed broken. "You haven't been moving it, have you?" Oh no, of course not. Except you TOLD him to. So he went in to get a cast. When he got there, they decided he needed another examination. All the swelling had gone down and the pain had started to subside, but...not anymore, after this doctor got to it. Now the swelling and pain are back, and they think it is dislocated, the third diagnosis of the same injury. So he has a half-cast. And everyone's faith in doctors...going downhill.

A Ball Dodged

My adrenaline is flowing. My heart is pounding in my chest. My mouth is achingly dry from breathing so hard. My legs are shaking with anticipation of the whistle blow. And I’m wearing yellow panties over my spandex pants. This can mean only one thing – DodgeBall Blast 2005!

DodgeBall Blast 2005 is the first annual Dodgeball tournament held in Brandon, MB on Sept 16-18. Sixty-nine teams from Manitoba and Saskatchewan played, including my team of 7 players and one coach from Winnipeg, “The Superfriends of JC Brown.” This name was coined from a couple of garage-sale paintings that depict a Black Jesus, in the house of 5 of the members. Now, the reason I should have gotten a veto is that we got a black Jesus, complete with thorns, silk-screened on the front of our shirts. Perhaps if we were a church group, or if members of the team even cared about Jesus, it would be ok. Anyway, the rest of our uniform managed to be bright enough that nobody even made a remark about the shirts. And people thought JC Brown was a good friend of ours who couldn’t make it to the tournament. So, enough about that.

Back to the story. The eight of us packed up and took the 2-hour drive to Brandon after work on Friday and checked in to the hotel that was directly connected to the Centre where the matches would be taking place. Unfortunately, not all of the team would be able to spend the weekend there. After several drinks, most of the team went to bed that evening. Two players, however, decided it would be a better idea to go swimming in the hotel pool, which had closed 3 hours earlier at 11pm. I got a phone call from these same guys just after 4 telling me they had been apprehended by hotel security but had escaped, and were now outside several blocks away. One of them had no shoes and was wearing only a garbage bag for a shirt after the security guard had pulled his shirt off as he tried to escape. So I got up and walked a few blocks away to bring them clothes and shoes. They went back into the hotel soon after I returned. Just before 6am, though, there came a loud knocking at the door. I woke up and opened to door to see 4 Brandon Police Officers staring me down. I even happened to know one. That didn’t help a lot, though, as the 2 guys were hauled off in ‘cuffs. Luckily they were released about an hour later and stayed in a hotel across the street for the remainder of the weekend. (Looks like they probably won’t be charged.)

Despite the situation that night, we still showed up to play our first-ever real game of dodgeball on Saturday morning. We quickly dispatched with “El Big Cajones” in two straight games in a matter of minutes. Coming back later in the day, we may have been a little over-confident as “One Nuts” quickly won the first game of our best-of-three series. We recovered and managed to take the second game, but they poured on the pressure and took the last game, putting us out of contention for the “A Pool” and knocking us down to “B.” We were a beaten and rejected team that night, but hoped for redemption later in the night in the first game of the elimination round. It was somewhat disappointing, then, to learn several hours later that our opponents called in to forfeit, likely because they got in the popular hotel bar and didn’t want to leave. So we would wait until Sunday for our next game. We also learned at this time that we had won the best uniform prize, for a smooth $250. “8 Chix and 2 Dix” took the prize for best team name.

Not having learned from the previous night’s escapades, the team again found itself in drinking establishments Saturday night, and some drama ensued, but nobody ended up in handcuffs so I guess it could be considered a success.

Sunday morning, we showed up to play. This time is was important, since we were playing a good team this morning. “The Snake Eaters” from Shilo, MB, were highly interested in taking down their colleagues from Winnipeg. We were on our game, though, and took them out of the game and the tournament in two close games. This set up our quarter-final against “The Pylons.” We may have been fooled by the fact that this team had girls, because we got our butts handed to us in the first game of the series. We came back to win game 2 without much problem. Into game three, and after several minutes of close play it came down to a one-on-one showdown with Rob “Big E” Evers making the hit for the Superfriends. We then took out "The Oddballs," propelling us into the “B Pool” Championship.

With the fans in the bleachers, three TV cameras set up, two play-by-play announcers mic’d up, and theme songs playing, the “White Trash Elite” and… some other team, took the floor for the “C Pool” Championship for a chance to win back the $160 entry fee. As you may guess based on the fact that I don’t even remember the other team’s name, “White Trash Elite” took it in quick fashion. This was just a warm-up for the “B Pool” Championship, featuring the “Double Decker Marlins” and the “Superfriends of JC Brown” in what may have been the most exciting match of the tournament. Two teams of grown men, both playing for their pride, honour, the title of Champion…. and the $1000 prize. The format was changed to a best-of-five series for the finals. We walked out of the tunnel to “Danger Zone” and wooed the crowd with our flashy uniforms and dashing good looks before hitting the court. We were caught early by The Marlins’ solid strategy and good skill in catching, which knocked our players out and brought theirs back into the game. They took game 1, which also featured Yours Truly taking a bit of a tumble trying to avoid a ball, sending me up in the air before landing me flat on my back, slippery banana-style. It was clearly impressive, because the crowd went “Ohhhhhh!” and the announcer did the same before commenting on it. In game 2 we kept the throws down low, out of catching range, and worked on breaking down their systematic strategy. We managed to win the game, tying up the series. We again got sloppy in game 3 and the Marlins made us pay, winning with several players remaining for their team. It was now “do or die” for the Superfriends, and we kicked it up a notch winning a long and close battle in game 4 to force a final game for the Title.

This game was a long one. I went off early after being hit in the foot on a good double-toss by two of the Marlins, but after a catch by Cosmo Longo of the Superfriends (yes, that’s his real name), I was back on the court. We battled hard, and the number of players on the court was whittled away slowly but surely. It came down to two-on-two before my teammate was taken out in an attempt to make a catch. I ran forward and took out the assailant, bringing it down to a one-on-one for the victory. Our coach called a time-out to slow it down for thirty seconds. I needed a quick break. Unfortunately we had no waterboy, because the combination of high adrenaline, sweating and heavy breathing had left me a very hurting unit indeed. It was legal to make a substitution during time-out, but I told the coach I was good to go, so it was back to the court to wait for the final whistle of the game.

And…. the whistle blows. I have 3 balls on my side, and he has three. I place one at the back so I could retreat if necessary, and carried the other two forward as he, too, approaches the centerline. I put one down near the halfway mark in case I will need it. He goes for the kill but starts to lose his grip and holds up. I make my throw. It is hard and low, but not directly on target. He moves too quickly and avoids it. Now I am naked, no ball for deflections. He is armed, right at the centerline, and I am only a few meters back, wanting to move farther away but not wanting to move too far from the ball I have placed there. I cannot lean over to pick it up, as that will leave me exposed to his throw. All this goes through my head, but it is only a second before he makes his strike. It is just above knee-level, and moving…. left. I dodge right and the errant throw smashes into the barrier at the rear of the court. I am off-balance from the dodge, but I make my move before he has time to move back and get another ball. I snatch up my ball and take two quick steps toward the line as he backpedals. Not slowing, I let fly. Panic hits the instant it leaves my hand. Too high. It is going for his chest. His hands move up to make the catch, but it is not directly at him. It is slightly off to his left side. His body rapidly rotates to take up the inertia of the ball… and it is in his arms… but it is too much!! He is completely turned around and falling as I see that he cannot handle the throw. I see his arms cradling around the ball that has already left them. The ball strikes the ground several meters behind him and we are Victorious!! The team runs to the court. The thing I remember most clearly is holding up my arm with my finger showing “number 1” while lifted up in a big bearhug, and thinking THIS is why people play sports.

The “A” Championship featured “Ranal Ape” and our nemesis “One Nuts.” After losing the first two, One Nuts came back for the 3-2 victory and the A Pool Championship with its $1000 prize. In a little twist, the organizers decided to feature a game with the “A” and “B” Champions facing off against one another for a “Golden Dodgeball.” Our chance for retribution…. but it would not come. They again took us down 2-1 in the best-of-three series. In game 3, one of their guys caught two balls within one second of each other. Impressive.

So, having won the most prize money and setting the bar in terms of uniforms for subsequent years, we headed home. With sore elbows, knees, shoulders and one likely broken bone…. wearing capes and tights, blue hair and face paint…Clearly, this is what Champions look like.

For good reason

There is a reason that society is not pure democracy. Some individuals or groups are given a form of "veto power." One such example is when people wanted gas taxes taken off because the price went up. Well, that would be great, except then their would be no money to fix the roads and you would have no incentive to get rid of your '74 Pinto.

Another reason there should be veto power is that people in their mob-mentality-induced decision-making processes are bound to agree to anything. A person, in this case myself (natutrally), should have the power to veto a group decision. "This case" happens to be the uniforms for my dodgeball tournament this coming weekend. And I will post pictures when I return - you will see what I mean. Anyway, dodgeball tournament with 92 teams this weekend in Brandon. Cool.

One Side of the Conversation

A dramatic re-enactment of my half of two conversations yesterday:

I. Registries

"Hi, I’m from Alberta and I need to get a Manitoba Driver License.”

“Sure I will keep the airbrakes. If it doesn’t cost extra, I guess.”

“I have to renew every year? Yeah, I heard that. In Alberta it’s like every 5 years or something. Guess that makes it more expensive here.”

“I have to register my vehicle every year too, right? For $99? Whoa. This is adding up.”

“Nope, I’m not going to smile for my photo.”

(“Man, I have to renew this every year? It just looks like a piece of laminated cardboard! Totally a rip-off.”)

II. Insurance

“Hello, I need to get Manitoba insurance please.”

“Ok, I can get them to fax that stuff.”

“’96 GMC Sonoma. Regular cab, 2-wheel drive.”

“And I’m a 24-year…oh, you don’t need to know that? You don’t care if I’m a male?”

“No, I live right across the street. Don’t drive to work.”

“Oh, I have to get my vehicle saftied too, hey? Some more money down the drain.”

“I was over at the Registries, looks like this could be costly. How much for the insurance?”

“What? For 6 months?”

“For a YEAR?”

“…”

Right. So with all the extra charges I have to pay, including a safety inspection and registering my vehicle and renewing my license each year, I can get insurance with the same coverage and a LOWER deductible ($200) for approximately…55.5% of what I paid in Alberta. With the same deductible, it will be 50% of the cost.

Strange. It’s government insurance. I guess communism DOES work sometimes.

Well, works for car insurance anyway.

Then again, I worked at a rehab clinic for people who had been in collisions. I probably should have known all along that insurance is a scam. One of those scams that you definitely should buy into.

Random funniness

I had to laugh at the oil companies, whose signs at gas stations do not fit enough digits to display how high the price is. Stupid oil companies.

I also have to laugh at Tim "Who says I'm on the side of the oil companies?" Jacek, who said that the price of gasoline at the pump is a direct reflection of future predictions of the cost of production, because on the highway in the middle of nowhere I got it for $0.99/L when it was $1.10/L in the city. Of course, it's $1.19 now. But $1.09 outside the city.

I laughed at my buddy Paul, who went to Florida a few weeks ago. He pretended at one point to be a Florida Panther. He even got a whole box of business cards printed up, with his name and a Panther logo and whatnot. So he could get into some big bars and parties, where everyone thought he was a high roller. But then, thinking he was a high roller, he had to buy them $20 drinks all night before retiring to a) the girl's house; or b) his $20/night hostel. Crazy man.

Next time, I will try to post the funniness that is a "Social," which is a Manitoba tradition of having a party in a hall or an arena or something before a wedding, to try to raise money for the wedding. It costs money to get in and there are draw prizes for such things as "ExH Agricultural Products" baseball caps and a turkey temperature probe. Very hick. I have some pictures...soon. HEY, at least it's more interesting than DST. Bye for now.

A Fourth Dimension

Seriously...why do so many people know nothing about Daylight Saving Time? And, more importantly, why do they THINK that they DO know?

Well, I guess most people really don't care. But I have heard too many people be wrong lately, so if you read this post, at least YOU won't annoy me with your ignorance any longer.

Daylight Saving Time was absolutely NOT made for farmers. I don't know how many times I have heard this blatant lie. "Yeah, it's for the farmers so they have another hour of sunlight to work the fields." B.S. As if a farmer cares when he gets his sunlight. Daylight Saving Time doesn't add an hour of sunlight, it just makes more sunlight in the evening instead of the morning. A farmer just gets up with the sun. Or maybe he gets up later and uses lights on the combine, since it's the 21st century. But anyway, farmers (in very general terms) would be OPPOSED to DST. Read :

Another complaint is sometimes put forth by people who wake at dawn, or whose schedules are otherwise tied to sunrise, such as farmers. Farmers often dislike the clocks changing mid year. Canadian poultry producer Marty Notenbomer notes, "The chickens do not adapt to the changed clock until several weeks have gone by so the first week of April and the last week of October are very frustrating for us." - source

Ok? So stop trying to make fun of me when I tell you that Saskatchewan didn't adapt DST because of its agriculturally-based economy. Even today, despite the fact that the urban municipalities there voted to change to DST, all rural areas voted against it so they continue with one time throughout the year. There is always disagreement about which time zone they would adapt, Mountain or Central, since the time zone line would run nearly straight down the middle of the province.

DST was developed not too long after time zones were created. Time zones were actually made by the railroads (Canadian Sanford Fleming). It started when it was realized that people's schedules were such that, in the summer they would be awakening after the sun was up, and staying up after it had gone down. By a simple move of the clock, it could be made such that there was an extra hour of sun in the evening, so people could enjoy the summer and use less electricity. It wasn't adopted with any sort of a standard (sometimes even across counties in the UK, nevermind over countries) for a long time. In WWI, its energy-savings potential was realzied and many countries throughout the world adopted it, starting with Germany and Austria. Shortly thereafter, many European countries follwed, along with some notables such as Manitoba and Nova Scotia. During WWII, the US actually institued DST (called "War Time") for more than 3 straight years.

So now you know. It is to save energy. Not for farmers. That's all.

Une demonstration aerienne

Well, now I have a semi-reliable connection. I just go to my friends' house. Since I sleep here pretty much every weekend, I can get one post per week up. That's good, right? Right?


Anyway, last weekend I went to the air show. It was AWESOME. So here are some fine pics of the show. This is some crazy 60 year-old dude who flies in nothing but loops and rolls and Cuban 8's and hammerheads and various other aerobatic moves in his souped-up biplane.

Next is the good ol' GAU-8/U Avenger cannon...oops, I mean an A-10 Thunderbolt II. But the gun is the avenger. It's big. Like, really big. True, I've seen bigger...but never on a plane.





And finally, the often-imitaded, never duplicated CF Snowbirds. These guys are amazing. It looks like they are all tied together, even when they are going through climbs, descents and turns. Ridiculous.




That's it for now. I hope you have an awesome weekend.

Life in Heck

That's right, folks, I now really live in Heck. That's because I have no internet access where I live.

It's horrible. Shaw Cable doesn't even service the building, so to get internet myself (I had been stealing someone's wireless) I would have to get a phone AND an internet connection. That would be over $60/mo all told. I feel socially isolated.

Luckily, I have found a new way. I just have to drive about 20 min to get to Bar Italia, an upstanding public bar in the Little Italy of Winnipeg. Then I just need to buy something (namely, pints of beer) and I get free wireless internet. So basically, it's like I get internet for free, and being able to get beer is just a bonus. At least that's how I need to look at it if I wish to avoid seeing myself as an alcoholic. So hopefully that's the way it actually is.

In other news, completely unrelated news, there was excessive drinking this past weekend on Friday, Saturday, AND Sunday. Lucky for me I managed to bow out to be the designated driver on on Sunday, and got to drive a drop-top Mustang on the highway in the sunshine. But really, should 4 guys be able to finish 4 x 40 oz bottles and 2 x flats of beer in one little night? I would argue 'no.' And then do it again the next day? That's just ridiculous. On Friday it was hanging out outside by the fire, while on Saturday night it was a social and some camping in Carman, MB. There was one male and one female in each of three tents, and nothing went anywhere. MAY have been related to various people passing out. Luckily, at that point, we were out of tents so I went inside my buddy's house to sleep (we were camping in the back 40 behind the house). And then they all woke up at 9 and drank all day, including a case in the car on the way home. Also during gokarting and bumper boats. Until 9pm. Damn.

I realize this post is full of rambling and nonsense and poor sentence structure. Next time, I will write the post before I get the beer. Have a great day.

Yeah...I'm pretty much the best I know.

Last week...I flew a helicopter.

I'm not gonna lie. It was awesome.

We started out in Winnipeg and were planning to fly to Portage la Prairie. Luckily we were off the ground and on our way before we had our first problem, a TOT failure (yeah, I don't know either, it has something to do with a temperature indication in the turbine), and second problem, a generator failure. So my first chance at actually flying the thing myself was when the pilot was flipping breakers, and on the radio to the air traffic controller telling him we might drop off their radar because we could have to make an emergency landing. Sweet. Nothing like learning under pressure. Like when you're trying to learn to drive a standard by starting out going up a hill, with 5 drunk guys in the back of the truck. Except your life is in danger, rather than just your dignity and respect.

Note the gauge in the middle there reading zero. It's supposed to be reading 600 or something like that. Oops.

Well, we made it to Portage and swapped it up for another, working, helo. Now the fun begins as he demonstrates for me how to hover, and tells me how to do it. Believe it or not, easier said than done. I think at one point during my hover, which was supposed to be stationary at about 5 ft, I was actually moving at about 20 knots and 30 ft. Oops. I was starting to get the hang of it, though. Then, he flew us into a "confined space landing," which involved putting us down in a patch of grass barely bigger than the helicopter, completely surrounded by trees that were at least 40 ft high. Supposedly I will be able to do that someday. I guess I had better work on the hovering first.

Then I got dropped off at the Shell station on the highway where I was picked up by my buddy and I headed off for a weekend of driving and camping. Yeah, it sure did feel like I was a rock star to be dropped off by helicopter.

Why EVERYONE isn't trying to be a pilot, I don't know.

Maybe EVERYONE is a Crazy

I've come into contact with some strange people lately. Some good examples:

1. Today, in the Giant Tiger, a guy came up to me in the aisle and said, "Since you're here, there are steak tenderloin (holds up so I can see his steak tenderloin) for only $3.97."

"Oh yeah? That's a pretty good price."

"They're loads of them. They're in the freezer just over there."

"Oh, great, thanks!"

Now, this is fine. Except they have been that price for months. And they don't look very good. And I don't have a barbeque anyway. But really, who goes up to strangers in a grocery store and tries to get them deals? Strange.

2. When I was leaving Superstore, I saw a lady who was there with a young girl and a man who was presumably her husband. They were leaving with a fairly full cart. But then they stopped at the bin where you can drop stuff off for the food bank, and she discretely grabbed some things out of it.

Aren't you supposed to go to the food bank for that? I think when you take food you didn't pay for out of a store, they call that stealing. Mind you, I did that (sort of) a couple weeks ago. I got some food at Harvey's and they accidentally put fries in my bag. I thought it was strange when they asked me if I wanted ketchup for my chicken, but I said yes anyway. Then I realized I had fries. I figured they wouldn't take them back, so I just gave them to the homeless people outside. Same idea, I suppose. But read on, the next one is better.

3. I was in the back seat of a car driving on the highway yesterday, and we stopped at a gas station to fill up. I took a few extra seconds to get out because I was stuck behind stupid reverse doors that can only open from the outside. When I got out, I saw the guy who had been driving our car, a Tempo employee, and another customer in a seriously heated conversation. I wasn't too sure at this point what was going on, but the big Tempo guy was about to walk away, then turned around and told the other customer that, "If you say one more thing, I'm going to punch you in the face." Hmm. That's not good customer service. I guess he had thrown the other customer up against the gas pump when the driver of my car ran over there and told him to stop it and pulled him off the guy. Turns out Tempo had put gas in his diesel engine and he got a wee bit upset. Understandable. Tempo employees throwing people up against gas pumps...not so much.

4. While in my truck and about to leave the Earl's parking lot in Edmonton, I was approached by a sad-looking and disheveled girl of about 18 years old or so. She knocked on my window so I rolled it down, and this was her story (which she told me all in about 6 seconds):

"Hi, my mom and me and my little sister are here, my mom had to be here for a court case today and we're from Calgary and my little sister is not feeling very well, see that's my mom standing across the street over there, and she was here for a court case today and she forgot her bank card and now we have no gas so could you maybe give us like $40 for gas or something so we can get home?"

(Holy crap) "Uh..what? You're here for a court case and ran out of gas?"

"Yeah our van is parked over on that street there and my mom forgot her bank card, and we can't get back to Calgary and we were just here for a day for a court case, and my little sister is in the van. That's my mom over there."

(Hmmm) "Ok, you're out of gas and want to get back to Calgary."

"Yeah and I'm wondering if you could give me like $40 or something so we could get back home with my sister because we're just here for the day and my mom forgot her bank card."

(Strange, but I would like to help) "Ok, where exactly is your van? I will meet you there and call AMA and they can bring us some gas."

"...Uh...uh...I was just wondering if you could give me $40 for gas because my mom forgot her bank card and we were just here for the day and my little sister..."

(Uh-huh) "Ok, I get it, but if you meet me over at your van there I will call AMA and they will bring some gas. Ok? Go get your mom and meet me there."

".....ok, it's just over there I will meet you there."

So she starts running over to her mom, across the street. I drive past her and her mom, and they aren't going anywhere. I go to exactly where she said her white van was, just around the corner. There's no white van. Big surprise. I wait 5 minutes, carry on home.

Friggin strange people.

Apology to the ones that brought me here

How did they know? Seriously, with all sorts of things that have happened to me in the last 3 years, I could go back to my parents and they would be well within their rights to say, "I told you so."

On taking care of other people's stuff: "Once you get your own car, you will understand." I sure will. I take good care of my car. It gets washed weekly, waxed and cleaned often, and properly maintained. When I was driving their cars, I could go for months - in the winter, no less - without a car wash. Hence, it is now in Hamilton rusting to pieces with the grill falling off. Sorry.

On cleaning up: "I can't stand getting home from work to a messy house. You will see, once you start going to work." This one was bang-on. When I got home to my house and there were dishes piled in the sink and crap all over the tables and floor, the blood pressure went through the roof. Just ask Kyle. I turned into the most annoying nag, because it drove me inSANE. I went back to my parents and told them. Sorry, mom and dad.

On making money: "No matter how much you make, you will never seem to have more." 100% accurate. I will make $30k more dollars this year than I did two years ago. But I don't FEEL like I have more money. It doesn't seem like I can spend any more than before, and it certainly isn't piling up. It just seems like I have more things I have to pay for now.

On friends: "Some will come and go, but never forget the good ones that will be there for you." Yep, this is true. I have had high school friends and university friends and work friends and girlfriends, and sometimes I pay more attention to one of these groups than another. But I know which ones are good friends. They're probably the same ones who will be commenting later at how my blog sucks and I need to quit my damn whining and stop being so lame. Ahh, good friends.

There are many other examples. What does it all mean? Am I getting old? Am I getting wise? Or was I just a really stupid kid? Who knows?

Ernest (Smokey) Smith, VC

On an October night in 1944, a young man from New Westminster, BC, ran into some enemy on the bridgehead his Seaforth Highlanders had just established across the Savio River in Italy. He was supported by neither tanks nor guns. This is what he did:

Under heavy fire from the approaching enemy tanks, Private Smith, showing great initiative and inspiring leadership, led his P.I.A.T. Group of two men across an open field to a position from which the P.I.A.T. could best be employed. Leaving one man on the weapon, Private Smith crossed the road with a companion and obtained another P.I.A.T. Almost immediately an enemy tank came down the road firing its machine-guns along the line of the ditches. Private Smith's comrade was wounded. At a range of thirty feet and having to expose himself to the full view of the enemy, Private Smith fired the P.I.A.T. and hit the tank, putting it out of action. Ten German infantry immediately jumped off the back of the tank and charged him with Schmeissers and grenades. Without hesitation Private Smith moved out on the road and with his Tommy gun at point-blank range, killed four Germans and drove the remainder back. Almost immediately another tank opened fire and more enemy infantry closed in on Smith's position. Obtaining some abandoned Tommy gun magazines from a ditch, he steadfastly held his position, protecting his comrade and fighting the enemy with his Tommy gun until they finally gave up and withdrew in disorder.

-From the Victoria Cross Citation for Ernest (Smokey) Smith, VC, who was Canada's last living Victoria Cross recipient. He died Wednesday.

Because I'm hot

No, seriously, because I'm hot. Like, overheating.

That's why I don't have time to post. Because yesterday the humidex was 41. The day before it was 38. It only gets down to about 27 at night. So I can't stay in my room (with its lack of air conditioning, or air movement for that matter), due to serious health risks posed to myself.

As soon as it's not deathly hot I will get posting again. In the meantime, I'll be by the pool/at the driving range/at the movies/out for dinner. MAN, my job is so hard.

Dibs on the Crazies

And when I say Crazies here, folks, I'm specifically referring to the majority of the human race. No, not the Chinese. Females.

My good friend Jeff takes credit as my friend who attracts the most, and the craziest, of the Crazies. Read the blog called "Crazy [Dancing] Girls" back from May and you will have a good general impression. However, I would argue that he merely does not realize in time when he has come in contact with an exceptionally crazy Crazy (resulting in aforementioned funny stories, and no harm to me, so keep it up). I am sure I would meet just as many Crazies if pursued relations with them. My example is thus:

Several months ago, I went to a new financial planner. He managed to completely screw up my taxes and lose me money, but that's not the point here. The point is he had a secretary, who obviously wanted me (obviously all girls want me, so this was just perpetuating that truth). They also happen to work in the same building as I live in. When I was gone for a couple of months, she slipped the following letter under my door, edited only for length and privacy of the author:

Dear Matt,
Holy Bowly...you were right again! (This is my small way of avoiding saying I'm wrong as usual).

Mr. M has every intention of apologizing to you in person. He feels terrible for his continuous oversight on your tax return (blah blah...more stuff about my taxes)

Did I mention that Mr. M feels horrible and YOU WERE RIGHT...would it help if I said that I slid this under your door naked? Didn't think so...I would have slid a bottle of something under the door if it would fit or wouldn't get stolen at the door (those carpet installer bastards having been making such racket all week! And they look like drinkers or dinkers after dipping in the sauce).

I know you are heading back to Portage Sunday sometime, call me during the weekend if you have any burning questions, I should be home Saturday evening @889-xxxx. I would be most happy to answer any questions that you may have regarding this most disconcerting situation...not that I'm the person to ask or anything!!!!

Take care,
N@

And then she even attached her business card to it, in case I wanted to call her at work or email her I guess. Or, more likely, since I didn't know her name. So, not only was it totally unprofessional of her to send me a letter making fun of carpet installers (or, more importantly, to screw up my taxes), she totally offered herself up for a Saturday evening.

And therefore, by actually saying she wanted me (which is always assumed), she joins the ranks of the Crazies. Awesome.

Style, Utility, and Futility

style Pronunciation (stil)
n.
1. a. A comfortable and elegant mode of existence: living in style.
b. A mode of living: the style of the very rich.
2. a. The fashion of the moment, especially of dress; vogue.
b. A particular fashion

u·til·i·ty Pronunciation (yoo-til-te)
n. pl. u·til·i·ties
1. The quality or condition of being useful; usefulness.
2. A useful article or device.

fu·til·i·ty Pronunciation (fyoo-til-te)
n. pl. fu·til·i·ties
1. The quality of having no useful result; uselessness.
2. Lack of importance or purpose; frivolousness.

The main question here is - Do I have style? This will be explored through two main examples - two items, in fact - on which large (by my standard) quantities of money were spent last week.

Exhibit A.
This is the first item we will be bidding on...er...um...talking about. Not the ruggedly handsome man in the picture, but the suit. See, I didn't have a suit until last week. A 24-year old man, supposedly responsible and respectable and all that, and I didn't even own one suit. So I got this one.

Now I'm no expert, but I would say this is a decently stylish suit. It's no Ralph Lauren, but it certainly gets the job done so that I can fit in to all but the most formal occasions.

That being said, it will be of minimum use overall. I certainly won't wear it to work, I have a uniform. So it will likely get worn only once or twice per year. Even if I wear the same suit 5 times a year for 5 years, that is still a cost of well over $20 per occasion. That's probably almost as much as the dinner I will probably be at. So, in conclusion, good style, poor utility.




Now, for exhibit B.
That is one UGLY-ass canopy.
So I have a small truck. It's pretty good to me, and it is in good shape. But throw a canopy like that on the back, and the style figure hits...hold on...let me calculate....zero. It has a metal roof rack, sliding side windows that don't slide, and the back window seal is falling off. As someone told me so elequently, they expected an 80-year old man to walk out.

But you know what? I don't care. Not even one bit. I was sick and tired of my crap getting wet or covered in snow, and now it won't. So if you don't think it's stylish...I agree. But if you don't think it has maximum utility (with small cost), then you're crazy. And if you wouldn't drive around in something like that...ok, that's fine. I guess that style is more important to you than me. But I'm all about the utility. If I had to return one of these two purchases, it would be the suit.

So now I guess you know more about me. And you've seen my stylish suit and utile canopy. Comment away.

Strangers in the attic

From Tuesday's Globe and Mail:

Graham visit to Arctic island causes icy spat with Denmark
By BRIAN LAGHI

Ottawa — Nobody lives there. It's tiny and frigid, and experts can't even agree on how it got its name.

But Hans Island, a barren knoll in the high Arctic, is now the centre of a full-fledged diplomatic tiff after Defence Minister Bill Graham quietly set foot there last week to the chagrin of the government of Denmark.

Danish officials in Copenhagen issued an official note of protest to Canada's ambassador yesterday after learning of Mr. Graham's decision to plunk down on the island and harden Canada's claim over it.

"We maintain the position that according to the normal principles of international law, that this is Danish territory," said Poal Erik Dam Kristensen about the island, located in the high north between Ellesmere Island and Greenland, which is part of Denmark.

"We would like to maintain what was the modus vivendi, that if one of the parties visited the island, the party notifies the other party beforehand."

Mr. Graham took a helicopter onto the island last Wednesday, a week or so after members of Canada's military planted a Canadian flag there and erected an Inuit-style stone marker known as an inukshuk. Danish officials have also in the past landed on the island, erecting their own stone cairns.

The offshore boundary between the two nations was drawn in 1973, but excluded the island, which lies in the middle of a channel about five kilometres wide.

Mr. Graham's visit was an effort to assert claims of ownership over the island in the wake of a new policy designed to increase Canadian activity in the Arctic to protect sovereignty.

I have just one thing to say about that: It's about damn time.

Canada was basically getting its claims in the Arctic stomped on for a long time, and nobody even seemed to know, nevermind care. Did YOU know that there were Danish soldiers, uninvited, on what Canada claims as its own land? I do believe that could be called called an invasion. Sure, they aren't hurting anyone and nobody wants to live there anyway. But if you had someone move into the corner of your garage and set up shop, you wouldn't be very happy either. This is especially true if it was your ally and supposed friend (Denmark is a member of NATO), and carried guns.

Now, Denmark figures it is theirs just as much as Canada figures it's ours. But that doesn't mean you give it away, or stand idly by while they slowly increase their military presence.

So I say, good job Canada. I am proud that we have made our stand. I am sure there will be more to come on this.

For a far more informative and detailed discussion on this topic, read here.

So much for not making this a place for political discussion.

A lone man on a journey

Sunday:

7:03am - Wake up. This is the earliest I have awakened in 3 weeks. Decide I should record what I do today so I can figure out how much fun can truly be packed into a 13+ hour drive. I'm going to Winnipeg...weeeeeeee. I will record my diary in voice memo.

8:30 - On the road. Had an mp3 CD made for me with 140 songs. Should be interesting to see what's on it.
Now Playing: Dashboard Confessional

8:32 - At the Post Office to get my leave pass stamped. It's closed. Should have done that in the past 3 weeks.

8:46 - On the road. It appears the new addition to my truck has caused my fuel efficiency to suck.
Now Playing: AC/DC

9:44 - Getting...very...tired. Fuel efficiency still sucks.
Now Playing: Britney Spears

10:07 - Can't find my wine gums. Seriously, this thing is only like 50 cubic feet.
Now Playing: Captain Tractor

10:56 - I'm in Saskatchewan. Saskatchewan roads suck.
Now Playing: Dropkick Murphys

11:45 - This is an interesting CD.
Now Playing: Scotty Doesn't Know...from the Eurotrip Soundtrack

12:20 - North Battleford. Stop for gas and food. Fuel economy not so bad (7.72L/100km). Found my wine gums and got some stale Pringles. A good stop overall.
Now Playing: Greenday

1:21pm - I was bored, so for the last 40km, I read a book. Decided that probably wasn't very safe.
Now Playing: Kenny Rogers

1:49pm - Just stopped in Saskatoon for a sandwich. You know, wouldn't want to take it on the road, because that would be unsafe.
Now Playing: Meatloaf


2:40pm - About half done my trip at this point, and my mp3 CD appears to be crapping out.
Now Playing: Tragically Hip

3:25pm - A stop sign on the highway? Can't they afford a few dollars of asphalt to make a curve and put up a merge sign?
Now Playing: Dropkick Murphys

3:55pm - You know what's good? 4-lane highways.
Now Playing: My Chemical Romance

4:14pm - I'm finally in driving mode. Not tired. Not interested in the scenery or traffic except to avoid it. Just driving.
Now Playing: Gwen Stefani

5:18pm - Leaving Yorkton. Just had dinner. Noticed at the Mr. Sub that the lettuce they served was expired - it said on the package. But the bathroom air freshener smelled like Pez Candy, so it balances out, right?
Now Playing: My Chemical Romance

6:06pm - Still have 4 hours to go. My ass is sore, and my sunglasses don't fit very well.
Now Playing: Neil Diamond

6:24pm - Filling up in Russell, MB. Still somehow getting crazy fuel economy...crazy awesome, that is. (7.56L/100km)
Now Playing - Tragically Hip

7:41pm - 200km to Winnipeg. Right on schedule. Brain turned off.
Now Playing - Johnny Cash

8:24pm - My mom just called my cell phone. She thought I would be there by now. Apparently she drives faster than me. Now Playing: Rise Against

9:15pm - I am hitting so many bugs, it sounds like rain on my windshield. It is making it increasingly difficult to see.
Now playing: the radio - The Police

9:45pm - After a sandwich, a sub, a pack of wine gums, 3 bottles of water, a box of Pringles, and 1360km I have arrived safely in Winnipeg. The bugs seemed a lot worse in the city with all the lights glaring off of them. Had to run into the building to relieve myself. Now I am 2000km overdue for an oil change. Too tired to care. To bed.
Now Playing: zzzz...