Century of Humanity

I dreamed last night that it was 2058, and the world was a strange place. In fact, it was on the road to ethnic cleansing. Actually, the whole world wasn't 2058, just when I climbed a mountain there happened to be a futuristic civilization up there. Must be due to general relativity or something.

I finally finished Shake Hands With The Devil, which every human should read. Here are some quotations from it:

"In the aisles and on the pews were the bodies of hundreds of men, women and children. At least fifteen of them were still alive but in a terrible state. The priests were applying first aid to the survivors. A baby cried as it tried to feed on the breast of its dead mother... The night before, [two Polish MILOBs] said, the RGF had cordoned off the area, and then the Gendarmerie had gone door to door checking identity cards. All Tutsi men, women and children were rounded up and moved to the church. ... the gendarmes collected the adults' identity cards and burned them. Then the gendarmes welcomed in a large number of civilian militiamen with machetes and handed over the victims to their killers. ... By the destruction of their cards, and of their records at the local commune office, these human beings were erased from humanity. They simply never existed. Before the genocide ended, hundreds of thousands of others would be erased." (280-81)

"I had long been arguing with New York that RTLM had to be shut down, as it was a direct instrument in promoting genocide. The UN did not have the means to stop the broadcasts, either through jamming, a direct air strike on the transmitter, or covert operations, but it made a formal request of the United States, which had the means to try all three. The issue was studied by the Pentagon, which in due course recommended against conducting the operation because of the cost—$8,500 an hour for jamming aircraft over the country—and the legal dilemma. Bandwidth within a nation is owned by the nation, and jamming a national radio station would violate international convention on national sovereignty. The Pentagon judged that the lives of the estimated 8,000-10,000 Rwandans being killed each day in the genocide were not worth the cost of fuel or the violation of Rwandan airwaves. The death toll, which was estimated at 200,000 by the end of April, reached 500,000 by the end of May and 800,000 by the last day of June." (375)

"There were remnants of a barrier here, and many people had been killed and thrown in the ditches and on the sides of the road. As I got out to wait, I looked at the bodies, which seemed relatively fresh. Just as I glimpsed the body of a child, it moved. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but I saw the twitching of the child and wanted to help. I leaned down to pick the child up, and suddenly I was holding a little body that was both tingling and mushy in my hands. In a second I realized that the movement was not the child but the action of maggots." (401)

"'The Interahamwe made a habit of killing young Tutsi children, in front of their parents, by first cutting off one arm, then the other. They would then gash the neck with a machete to bleed the child slowly to death but, when they were still alive, they would cut off the private parts and throw them at the faces of the terrified parents, who would then be murdered with slightly greater dispatch.' Khan [Shaharyar M. Khan, appointed SRSG June '94] was wrong when he wrote that the veterans of the genocide had become hardened to such things. We were simply putting off our feelings until later." (462)

"...the U.S. 'has taken a leading role in efforts to protect the Rwandan people and ensure humanitarian assistance. ... [It has] provided $9 million in relief, flown about 100 Defense Department missions... strongly supported an expanded UNAMIR, air-lifting 50 armoured personnel carriers to Kampala ... [and is] equipping the UN's Ghanian peacekeeping battalion.' Clinton's fibbing dumbfounded me. The DPKO was still fighting for the Pentagon for military cargo planes to move materiel. The Pentagon had actually refused to equip the Ghanaians as they felt the bill was too high and that Ghana was trying to gouge them. And who exactly got the $9 million?"

[Many, many times throughout the book, the US blocked all efforts to reinforce UNAMIR (the UN Assistance Mission for Rwanda) and was the constant frustration of UNAMIR. You can't help but feel outraged at the US, who had so much potential to help and not only did nothing, but actually prohibited efforts to help.]

"... during those last weeks, we received a shocking call from an American staffer, whose name I have long forgotten. He was engaged in some sort of planning exercise and wanted to know how many Rwandans had died, how many were refugees, and how many were internally displaced. He told me that his estimates indicated that it would take the deaths of 85,000 Rwandans to justify the risking of the life of one American soldier." (498-99)

"In the last decades of the twentieth century, self-interest, sovereignty and taking care of number one became the primary criteria for any serious provision of support or resources to the globe's trouble spots. If the country in question is of any possible strategic value to the world powers, then it seems that everything from covert operations to the outright use of overwhelming force is fair game. If it is not, indifference is the order of the day." (519-20)

I wish I could find the part about how many tens of thousands of bodies had been pulled out of Lake Victoria.

Many times throughout the book I had to stop and just be incredulous and outraged at what had happened. We always think, "How can such things happen in the world?" Well, because we rarely do anything other than just be outraged. Outrage is not enough. But what the hell, I don't know where to start.

I apologize for only giving these various quotations without my opinion on them. I used to routinely get flack about not having coherent arguments or opinions, but my method of thinking is somewhat Impressionistic: I hold all these disparate images in my mind, and come out with an overall picture that isn't defined in very fine lines, but is there nonetheless. I can't put my thoughts to words like other people can, and I can't explain myself very easily. But I hope you share my feelings about things like Rwanda.

"In the future we must be prepared to move beyond national self-interest to spend our resources and spill our blood for humanity. We have lived through centuries of enlightenment, reason, revolution, industrialization, and globalization. No matter how idealistic the aim sounds, this new century must become the Century of Humanity, when we as human beings rise above race, creed, colour, religion and national self-interest and put the good of humanity above the good of our own tribe." (522)

floating on cherry blossoms

Because I always arrive at things way too early, I take a detour while walking from the bus stop to work every morning. Cherry trees seem to be as populous in Victoria as elm trees are in Regina, and right now they're blooming. I love walking on a carpet of pink petals early in the morning. It's like being in a painting.

And because I'm apparently doing awesome at work (who knew?), I will not only get a raise effective when the new store opens on the 20th, but they also want me to be a supervisor there. This is "very exceptional," they tell me. I don't know why I'm the one who was lucky enough to get the first shift, or why I get the most hours of all the new people, but... well lucky me, I guess. I wasn't even going to go to work today because I've been rather ill for a couple days, but then I did because I'm too chicken to call in sick. I'm glad I did go, though, because it happened to be pay day as well as promotion day. Wooo! Except Maxalt + Codeine = me in a cloud. Or in a London Fog, as it were. I'm so glad it's the weekend. Time for theory and tax returns (lest the horde of tax men come after me again).

Beats Me

I have a strong urge to watch Requiem for a Dream. Or maybe just listen to the soundtrack over and over. That and Amon Tobin (I definitely have to get Amon Tobin hooked up on the ipod at work, I'm absolutely certain it would go over with immense success, at least in the new store. Maybe not so much in the old store where anything heavier than Mozart is forbidden during my shift. OMG I'm listening to it right now and it's almost inconceivable how awesome it is). And Nine Inch Nails. And especially Massive Attack. And all my miscellaneous favourites. Maybe I'll just spend Thursday listening to music. Playing the piano would be even better. I'll have to hook myself up with a practice room if I continue RCM studies in the fall.

The Mr. Brown quote of the week: in answer to an RCM question about what he himself was thinking while writing his own composition (I left the question blank, I had no clue), he thought for a few minutes, offered some token answers that the examiners might accept, then wrote down this. I love this class so much. I almost didn't get the most important part of this week's assignment done—I ask you, why does The Bay not sell dividers, or even paper?? Most inconvenient.

Still no tips... For that matter, no wages either. Pay day had better come soon, or I shall mount a protest. I don't even have a tip jar. Apparently tip dispersal is backed up by a week or so, so that should be remedied someday. How am I supposed to go eat lunch at Starbucks every day if I have no petty cash? Maybe that's the idea, they're trying to discourage that. One of these days I'll have to try our Wicked Soup though, because it smells delicious and makes me increasingly hungry throughout the day. I'm the designated apple strudels and quiche baker, which I've finally perfected. The latest goal is to open the new store on March 22. I hear there are chandeliers in it. It's also much much bigger. I still can't think of any drawings ideas.

Gardens, Gargoyles, and... Clowns.

Some of the writing I did for The Luther Story is now up on the web: I interviewed a handful of alumni who have worked on books, the famous Canadian clown Izzy (Shannan Calcutt). I also wrote one on the High School's Class Marshall program, but it doesn't seem to be attributed to me (or anyone). I'm very glad they want me to continue writing for them.

I feel very creaky, as if my legs from the knees down have been recently carved out of hickory or something. Feels like a cold is impending, but it's been so nice out! I could stroll around the Empress gahdens every day. Capital!

• I met this gargoyle in Chinatown today.


• I enjoy Angie's map of our Victorian excursion.

Going Purple... Eventually

Angela came for a visit this weekend—guess who we saw busking! Chad Vader in person, I tell you. We also found a fantastic antiqu-in-arian bookstore, and I now have a collection of old moldy books. I mean, most of them just smell like lovely old leather books, but one seriously smells of mold. But it is possibly the best book of the bunch—it's a Latin grammar! From 1859! or thereabouts. I'm also hooked on High Tea. Methinks I'll wander off to the Blethering Place one of these days. Maybe they'd even let me play some piano ditties, though I doubt it.

Work is actually going fairly well. It's not something I'd want to do long-term, by any means. Once I get divvied some tips it will be even better. Then maybe I'll be able to afford that hair-chopping-and-dying I've wanted for the last half year. [Edit: no, I have not been saving up for months with the single goal of getting a haircut. Gosh. I'm just trying to severely cut down my frivolous purchases, and I feel like I really need to not turn my head purple in the same week that I spend a hundred dollars on stupid work shirts.] And boots... god how I want boots. I should probably invest in some better standing-around/walking shoes first, though, since boots are probably impractical for work. I'd much rather work this job only part-time, so I could have more time for studying for music exams and possibly a more "real" job like teaching English, or some other job that involves chairs. I am highly looking forward to doing tutor-mentor/TA-type work when I'm a student. As it is, I'm not doing full-time hours anyways. I have no idea when the new store will open; I heard the other day that they had originally planned on opening up a new store by Christmas... but construction seems to be going, at least. The new sign is up.

It looks like freelancing is definitely in the future once again, which is fantastic provided I don't have to phone US people like last time (I can no longer mooch my parents' bundle). I'm pretty excited to get some copies of the latest issue of the magazine. I'll be a real writer!

The Department of Silly Walks

• The Black Music Folder. Definitely the most awesome music folder I've ever had. At Podium 2004 I met The Black Folder Guy. His name tag even said "The Black Folder Guy."


• Make your own Silly Walks!. Here is my first attempt.

It's almost Christmasy here, what with snowflakes falling here and there. Reminds me of Christmas days of old at Grandma's. I miss those days. I also miss the ol' orchard at home, but the cherry trees are starting to bloom here!

I finally completed my first-ever choral composition. I really hope to hear it performed some day. I just started 20th century serialism in Analysis this week... maybe I'll attempt an atonal fugue or something, though I think that's oxymoronic. I just might have irrevocably strayed into the cluster chord camp.

situation normal

Well.... I guess it's not so bad. In some strange twist of fate, the owners were completely cool with me missing yesterday, and then ten minutes later threatened to fire the barista for playing rock and roll before 10:00. Who knew? No day would be complete without a little of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, after all. So today was a good day, especially when the owner gave me the authority to tell the new "new guy" he's doing things wrong. Not that I'd probably notice anyway, but it's still nice.

doubleplusblyarg

I do not think this job is for me. I hate being told to come in to work early the next morning. I especially hate being woken up and asked to come in to work in two hours. I hate the short notice. I'm sick of being called "Maygan," despite many corrections. I really hated writing down the days I'm supposed to work this week, exactly as it was told to me over the phone, then being called today and told "you were supposed to work today. It's ok this time, but next time..." Sure, it's ok with him because he's cool, but I bet I'll get thrashed about it tomorrow. I also hate every minute of the job itself. I hate the migraines that I've been getting all week. I hate the $70/hour that I partially forfeited from music lessons (which I absolutely LOVE) just to go to stupid training (which I hated). I hate being on the verge of tears when the owner says "you can use your brain." And a pat on the shoulder doesn't quite make it right either. I hate counting the hours until I have to get up at 5:30 to go somewhere I don't want to be, then counting the hours until I can leave. I will hate life (even more than usual) if this continues. Guess I'm just a hateful person. But seriously, what kind of coffee place doesn't have normal decaf drip coffee??

At least someone likes me. My old freelance employer phoned up my Mom asking if I'd like to be their webmaster starting in the summer. :0 Webmaster! Like... my ideal job. I really hope I get it when summer rolls around. She was also saddened to learn that I had moved, because she thought I was an awesome freelancer.

At one point I had been thinking "hey, I've just got this great new job... well I might as well just skip the grad school and go ahead and just work here forever!" Talk about your addled brains. I must get that SSHRC so I can go to grad school!

Today's Analysis lesson was great as usual. I did my Mozart sonata of the week perfectly (as soon as he had finished marking it, my teacher said "Ok. go sign up for the exam.") The Mr. Brown quote of the week: "This is stupid." He said that while trying to find a minor-7th chord in his own composition. Yess! A composer who obviously doesn't pay much attention to silly chords and progressions rules! I bet it bugs him when RCM asks all those stupid questions about his pieces in their exams.

Heheh... in other news, I am a "diabolical genius." That is causing me endless amusement.

And, if you're in the Victoria area tomorrow (which I doubt):

Bike, Jog or Wheel with David Suzuki to Mile Zero in Victoria!

You're invited to join him as he completes the last kilometre of his journey across Canada.

WHEN: 9:30 a.m., Wednesday, February 28
WHERE: Meet at the Cenotaph under the large Canadian flag at the corner of the grounds of Legislative Building
WHAT TO BRING: Your bike!
COST: Free

The plan is to ride or jog along with Dr. Suzuki for the last kilometre of his tour and arrive at the Terry Fox statue at Mile 0 just after 10 a.m.

I won't be going, because I have to be at work. ):<

Is that an active or inactive banana?

Blyarg.... I think I might be starting posts with that a lot. I have to be at work at 7:00 AM tomorrow... Catch the bus at ~6:10... I am so not a morning person. I wish they had told me when I'd be working sooner than this evening, then maybe I wouldn't have slept in until mid-afternoon. Watch, now that I know I need to get up early, I won't be able to get any sleep. Instead I'll be counting hours all night. Do you ever do that? Can't get to sleep and keep thinking, as the night progresses, "ok if I fall asleep now I'll have 5 hours of sleep.... ok now I really need to fall asleep if I want to get 4 hours of sleep... oh jees, is that the sun?"

• Vote on what the worst sound in the world is.


• Is that an active or an inactive banana? I should probably employ some black marker tape on my desk... it's getting out of hand.


• You can get mange too. Right here.

Blyarg, I thought I had a really great thing going with my new drawings site, but apparently I can't upload any more jpgs to it even though I have precisely 1958.5 MB of free space, because they're probably under the impression that I'm just hoarding hosting space. The Internet is out to get me, probably because I impersonate them in order to send menacing emails. From: TheInternet@internet.net and all that. So, today's drawing is brought to you by the letter L:



We were supposed to be training at Dolce Vita from Monday to Sunday of this week, but they decided that tonight would be the last training night, and even then we didn't do training but filled out forms. That is, the other two trainees did that. I got called in to actually work a shift today. First one on the job! I win!

So I kind of got thrown into things today. I also made tons of mistakes and won myself many a reprimand, but I guess that's how you learn (not me, I never learn). My feet are killing me—I don't know how this is going to be, full time. And I think it will be a lot tougher now that my Dolce Vita Sister dropped out of training :'( And, my tie is now made of panini oil.

Sugar neutralizes the poison in coffee. Put more in, more!

I'm two days into training at Dolce Vita now. The practice orders we've been taking have been ridiculously complicated and unrealistic (I hope), but I've been holding up ok. Wish my memory was better. I believe we tentatively (and tentacularly... wait, Firefox says that should be spelled "intermolecularly") open on March 1. I'll have to miss part of both my theory lesson and training tonight. Last night I got a complimentary latte which kept me up until well past 6 this morning :S Note to self: Dolce Vita puts far more espresso in their drinks than any other place. Tradition, and all.

I've resurrected the phototoons. They take much less time to make than drawings. I always forget great new drawings ideas anyways, but my phototoons don't make any pretense at being funny.

If only I were the ent

My sister-in-law had her baby last night. This will be the third nephew. I shall call him "Octavian." Unless they name him something else, but that would be a pity (unless it's "Soda," of course, which would be pretty awesome).

Ryan and I went to see Strauss's Daphne the other day. It was the first non-Classical opera I've seen yet, and was pretty Wagnerian in approach (i.e. full of Leitmotifs, through-composed, no arias, etc). My favourite part was when Apollo struck down the shepherd with a light sabre... or a lightning bolt, one of the two. I also liked the ent. Seeing operas always makes me really really wish I was the one on stage. I could have been Daphne. Gosh.

Music Tests

Tone Deaf Test: I got 94.4% correct (exceptional performance)

Pitch Perception Test: at 500Hz I can differentiate between tones 1.2 Hz apart (59th percentile)

Rhythmic Test: Only 64.0% correct.... :( Still normal though. I protest that many of their "rhythmic phrases" were just filler.

As long as I don't have to handle sauce...

I applied to Starbucks the other day. Starbucks. I have a Bachelor's degree (and a President's medal to accompany it) and yet one of my greatest aspirations has long been to work in a coffee shop. But what's a Bachelor's degree anyway? "So, do you have any cafe experience?" asks Starbucks. "Why no! None at all!" I reply. "Aha, well, yes, well... er, we actually just hired someone else."

But thank the Ganges I applied there! As I sat morosely sipping my frappucino (actually, I was enthusiastic about the frappucino, they're so tasty; but generally morose), I happened to notice a huge sign blaring at me from across the street: "HIRING BARISTAS ON SUCH-AND-SUCH DAY AND TIME." What luck! And to think, I was about to apply to Save-On on my way home.

Along came the day, and I boldly boarded the bus and walked right up to the building (and nearly walked right on by to catch a bus straight home... I panicked! Who'd hire me?). I went in for my interview and, since I didn't think I had much of a chance, I had no fear. And towards the end one of the interviewers says... "I can tell you right now that I'm very impressed." Very impressed? With me? Nobody has ever said that to me, at least not an employer-type person.

And that was that; as of today I am hired to my first long-term job.

And now the problem... what about grad studies? Applying to grad school and for the SSHRC was damn stressful and a heck of a lot of work, which means this is my only shot at it. And what about music? Here I was all ready to undertake an intensive 3-year stint of classes and exams to come out with a certificate in composition—what I have truly always wanted. Well, the music is probably doable, though on a much longer time-frame.

Can I do all three? During the past month of idleness, I swore to myself that I would welcome busyness, and that when it came I wouldn't complain even if I only had a few hours' time for sleep each night. At least this job won't be as stressful as the last (I'm guessing... hard to imagine, at any rate) and I might eventually get to be a barista, making unpotable drinks at international competitions and whatnot... no, I've got to keep the music in, somehow.

And the other day marked the 50th Briton call! I actually answered once, but it was just the same old machine message so I ignored it.

Chad Vader

Chad Vader: I love the first few episodes. Now the waxing on the floor is complete... huh? rmph! Can someone... have this droid repaired?

Barnyard in A Flat Major

Reason has pretty good sound banks (they're reasonable, at any rate, within reason), but in my 2nd variation the cello sounds like a cow and the viola sounds like a duck. I call it "Barnyard in A Flat Major." I've only got two variations so far, but you can check them out on my music page. Quartets are manageable for me, what with only having one problematic C clef, but I like massive blocks of sound that require rather more than four instruments.

I've been trying to work on a choral piece for a competition, but I've got my heart set on a particular text and unfortunately it always goes to a certain tune in my head... but I'm not liking how the tune turns out, it's too melismatic. You know, not mellifluous enough. It ought to be more behonied.

Water Rose: masterpiece!

If you're into music notation software, I highly recommend LilyPond. It's really only good for final copies, but it's darn awesome for that. It's just like programming! And there's soooo many things you can do. You can do clusters! Like this. Not that I'm into clusters, it sounds like yowling to me. And you can write in various ancient music styles. And the clincher: it even has banjo notation! Banjo notation.

I've been starting some variation sets on on a series of Jean Berger songs. So I've been listening to When I Admire the Rose over and over trying to transcribe the voice lines, and I've come to the conclusion that a perfectly balanced choir of excellent singers is The Best Instrument. Most choirs aren't like this, but NYC sure was. I actually used to hate the sound of male singers, but the NYC guys were fantastic and the mens' parts in The Rose and Water Night are the ones that make my heart skip a little every time. Ah yes, my favourite choral piece of all time (and I think everyone would have to objectively agree that it is the finest choral piece ever written) is Eric Whitacre's Water Night. Hmm... two awesome songs... should be combined! Like this. Actually, they go together fantastically, especially at the end.

Anyway, while I was transcribing I noticed that songs don't sound as good performed with instruments other than voice. The notes are correct, but it doesn't sound quite as spectacular. Researching for my music encyclopedia has uncovered the reason: most instruments are tuned so as to be slightly out of tune... for good reason, and only barely, but still slightly. Whereas in a choir you don't sing a note, you sing your harmonic function in relation to the other voices, and if it's a good choir it will be perfectly in tune. Just intonation, or something. Whatever, the name isn't important. Not like augmented sixth chords built on the second scale degree, for example. Speaking of which... I should go do some homework.

Good news! Mini Goggles has been rescued!

Neapolitan sixth, German sixth, Italian sixth, French sixth... fucking dogs.

If I were in Saskatchewan right now, and if I had a baseball bat, I know of two fucking stupid dogs that would no longer have intact skulls. I hate fucking stupid dogs. They came at least four times, chased my llamas into a frenzy and somehow all the fence panels got knocked down (llamas have skeletons like birds—I can't imagine how they could knock down huge, heavy, iron fence panels without snapping like twigs). They bit at least one of my llamas, quite badly, and probably because she was defending her baby. And the baby? Ah, my beautiful little 4-month-old cria (the only one anyone wanted to buy, but we didn't sell her because she and her mother [both gorgeous] are the ones we were going to keep forever), that baby is now missing. Tonight will be -30 degrees... which means she will die. Who knows what other llamas are injured. My llamas have charged dogs before, and they kill coyotes, and I am truly, deeply, terribly, profoundly disappointed they did not kick those dogs to a pulp. My brother spent all afternoon running all over the fields, farm, and creek looking for llamas, rounding up runaway llamas, chasing dogs away, bringing llamas back to the yard, and setting up all those panels. He is some sort of superhero.

Aside from the fact that he never asks for help for anything, he is alone because my parents have come to visit me for a few days, which is most excellent. I've been getting pretty darn lonely. We've done a bit of touring, and an inordinate amount of visiting relatives and friends (inordinate is good... I've never actually visited all these people in one trip before, and never all here on the island, and certainly never all in the city. We've even managed to visit some of the Alberta relatives, right here in the city! There is no up-island trek whatsoever, for the first time in history!). And, I've also, you know, picked up a few rocks here and there. I've really got to stop doing that.

Today I had my first Analysis lesson. It shall be a lot of work, because although I was never bad at harmony, I never bothered to learn it in any permanent manner, just stuffed it into the short-term bin and promptly forgot it after each exam. Now I want to learn it for keeps, so I want to really apply myself to this course. I'll be doing a lot of reviewing all my old harmony textbooks that my parents brought me. My teacher asked me "what enlightened university" I had gone to, since I mentioned I had a particular textbook from my university days. And drat it all, he asked me if I had my Bachelor's and of course I said "yes," and I think he's given me homework somewhat more advanced than I'd like because he's under the impression my Bachelor's was in music. I also can't read the instructions he wrote out for me. But he is such a freaking awesome comp/theory guy.

• Bah, I won three of those. Three! Beat that!

The Deathly Hallows!!

woot woot woot WOOT!! The gaping hole in our collective souls will finally be complete. And if you don't have this particular gaping hole, you're seriously missing out!

So, 2 characters apparently die in the final book. I'm betting it's Voldemort and Harry. Here's my daring hypothesis: remember the horcrux? Unveiled in The Half-Blood Prince? Well, I think that Harry is a horcrux, which means, he must die in order for Voldemort to die! I'm so clever, aren't I? I hope there's a prize if I'm right.

• I hope I don't forget to do this, so that we can have some more of this.
  


• "Scientists offered cash to dispute climate study"

And shall they pay me? (may for shall... what, you don't know obscure Lewis Carroll references?)

So I'm now enrolled in the Conservatory here. I only registered for one class, though. I was considering taking up a new instrument, but then I discovered how much I just paid for that one class. Bloody Hell. Probably because I picked the theory/comp department head as my tutor. If I can do amazing enough in this class (highly doubtful), maybe I'll try to tackle some of the next classes on my own.

I also expect to be accepted into grad studies pretty soon, as in, it's inconceivable that I wouldn't be, now that they have all my documents. I dimly recall saying that I would definitely go if I was accepted. Further qualification: if it's financially feasible. Meaning, they'd better darn well pay me to go. A Master's degree of any kind is, in my opinion, useless in and of itself. I'm not going to pay to listen to profs Crakespasming for two years, and then be right back where I am today. If I don't get to do research (assistant style) or TAing or tutor-mentoring or heck even marking, there's no point in going.

• Lovely, I received a job offer from my favourite type of workplace: a call center! Enjoy a career with our company and enjoy many... "Benefits & Perks!" Maybe they'd consider hiring me to improve that slogan.
  

La la la la LINOLEUM!!

• The Peabody Institute has many excellent recordings of complete works, with all movements. But not enough :( Also, Bartok is one of my new heroes, but nobody can ever supplant Liszt.
  


• That's fake Latin anyway. We should all encourage its death. And then bring back Classical Latin! I do like this quotation, though: "St Augustine thought in Latin, you can't read his text in English, it's like listening to Mozart through a jukebox." Just replace "St Augustine" with "Horace" or "Octavian," and yes, my thoughts exactly!
  


• Return of the drawings. That is to say, I've rebuilt the drawings site. Still no new ones, so I guess they haven't quite returned.

You must see this

• Everyone should be required to watch this video on Global Dimming. Please. I'll bet you've never even heard of Global Dimming before.


• Well glory be, I'm on page 3!


• MySpace! Xanga! Umm... let's see what else can I add... I really just wanted to find somewhere to upload the Numa Numa dance and possibly the Screech Fire. Will maybe get around to that. The Xanga site is theoretically going to be my writing page. For whenever I want to pretend I'm a writer.
  

This is what I've been doing lately:

1. Banjo Cuttlebort, ____ is the new manager of the Antonio Sporting Centre, arrived in Quebec City last week.
   • (A) he
   • (B) who
   • (C) which
   • (C) that

Invisible Man (And His Talking Cat)

It's reversible... should it be reversed? Is it satisfactory? The menus shouldn't pose too much of a problem, I hope.

• I am worth exactly $2,413,058. I am also a centrist. Or, perhaps more accurately, an anarchist with collectivist leanings (approximately an anti-George-Bush).


• Check out my new movie trailer

Of pens and words

• The Eight Phases of the Bic Biro
• Definitions that require new words

My temporary homepage is back here again. Yes, yes, yet another new style. I think this will be the final one. A lot is missing (especially the awesome version of the lapsionary, but especially all my drawings).

My hypothetical ARCT schedule

I could do the examination papers in any order, but here's what I have in mind:

Table 1. Double ARCT in Composition and Theory, with English Graduate Studies

Year	Fall	Spring
1	Renaissance Counterpoint History 1	Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint I Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint II
2	Classical Harmony and Counterpoint History 2	Romantic and Post-Romantic Harmony and Counterpoint Post-1900 Composition Techniques
3	Orchestration I Analysis	Orchestration I (continued) Orchestration II Ear Test
4	Composition 1: solo instrument Composition 2: Chamber or choral work Composition 3: Work for orchestra ~5,000-word research paper
5	Oral Defense

Table 2. Double ARCT without English Graduate Studies

Year	Fall	Spring	Summer
1	Renaissance Counterpoint History 1	Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint I History II	Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint II Analysis
2	Classical Harmony and Counterpoint Romantic and Post-Romantic Harmony and Counterpoint Orchestration I	Post-1900 Composition Techniques Orchestration II	Ear Test
3	3 Compositions (as above) Research paper		Oral Defense

I am (for possibly the first time ever) positive about what I want to do with the rest of my life. It would go faster without the Master's degree, but if I get accepted to grad school I will do it for sure because I also want to delve into some Anglo Saxon critical theory. I'm being optimistic in being able to learn orchestration quickly, what with having no background in any instrument other than the piano (man, there'll be different clefs to learn, not to mention silly things like trombone positions, harp pedalling, fingering, bowing... all these things I know nothing about. And do you think there's even one exam on choral composing? Of course not, because everybody looks down on singers and singers have to shell out for friggin' accompanists and nobody pays choristers and every instrumentalist gets to be in several ensembles/orchestras but singers have to mostly be alone and you always have to miss out on pit parties because you might catch a cold for your jury tomorrow... It is an instrument, and it's damn hard work to excel at... but this ARCT isn't about singing anyway so whatever, I'll just learn the bloody orchestration). So yes, optimistic. I learn easily when I'm interested. Also, the miracle of RCM is you can take the exams anywhere in Canada. I'm not sure about taking classes... as it is, I'll have to take Gr. 5 Analysis by correspondence. Gr. 5. My gosh, there are so many ARCT classes.

Damn this internet

January 29-February 2 is Week of Climate Action! (ohhhh... I missed the Royal Roads viewing of An Inconvenient Truth by thiiis much... no wait, more like thiiiis much. Aha, I can still make two more Global Warming lectures. Show those Facebookers what for.)

My gosh, I could do without any sense (especially ESP) as long as I had my hearing. Damn I love that ocean of sound. You know, the one that washes over you when you're in rehearsal and you stop singing for just a second and you're pretty sure you'd be buoyant if you just let yourself fall forwards... yeah I still remember that. Oh my word.

Haha, my webhost has now completely disappeared, there is no longer even a logon page. Haha, I forgot to make a backup after I converted everything to php. Haha, haha, I'm hysterical with all this banging my head against the wall.

Facebook is addicting, but my groups are infested with complete assholes, rabid ignoramuses, and general jerks (excluding Herpelhode, of course, which you should join because it's starting to be a repeat of every group I've ever created...p.s. join my groups, dammit). Rage approaching upper limit. More head banging. I'd better stay away from that Government + Religion = Disaster group. I don't have the energy to suppress the urge to kick baptists in the shins.

And the SMEF returns for good

Arrrrg, I hate my stupid unreliable server that occasionally (like all this week so far) disappears. I can't wait until it expires. I want my domain back! I have several music scores that need posting.

I'm so craving a sandwich right now, but the last thing I ate felt like I was swallowing saw blades—no exaggeration. Mmmmm, toothy.

• Oh my... volunteering to be tazered, are we? He looks slightly pained.


• Whoa there, Iran? Why am I always behind the times? Back in the 9/11 days when I had no TV, I was all "what, Iraq? You mean Afghanistan, right?" There is no logic. Once again, I maintain this. Damn hypocrisy.


• "We both know there are no guaranteed cures, whether in medicine, nutrition, herbs or anything else. Complete healing...including mind, body and spirit...is possible, from God. If you want God's help with your health problem, go to Help From God." ?! You call this medical advice?? So does God have a blog or something where I could maybe add my name to some waiting list? So much crap on the internet. I guess I'm adding a lot to it though, so I shouldn't complain.
  


• A BC Ferries sign

National De-lurking Week

It's National De-lurking Week!

So if you are a:

• lurker
• loiterer
• layabout
• passerby
• peripatetic
• skulker
• just curious
• otherwise furtive
• all of the above

you must post a comment at this time or I will be terribly devastated. It's a general requirement.

I am teh smrt

When I was little the only thing I could do on the computer was play Typing Tutor. I tried for probably a day to start up golf (my gosh, you only had to type in one word: "golf") before I finally realized I was spelling it wrong. I was very little.

Other than Typing Tutor and certain other simplistic dos games, I never touched a computer until I was in Gr. 7. I had never heard of Windows until I was in Gr. 8. The next year, or the one after that, I think I learned how to look something up on the internet. When I got my own computer after I graduated, I didn't hook it up to the internet until the spring of 2005.

The point of all of this is that I've always labeled myself as "not a computer person." When I was a tech and people would call in saying "I'm not really a computer person," I would say "me neither." When a prof asked me to help design his website one time I said "I don't know anything about computers." The other day on the bus I was talking with a girl who said she liked programming in html, and I said "I'm not good at that kind of stuff."

Wait, wait, wait... I disagree. I have absolutely no CS-type background. The most formal education in computers I ever got was how to make a sine wave in QBasic in high school (half the time we were doing computers; the other half we had typing practice on typewriters. Typewriters!) But after the bus episode I looked up the girl's site and it looked pretty much like she had entered some text into a pre-existing template. Modesty has its limits, and I hope I'm justified in believing my own site is far more advanced than that. I've certainly put enough work into it, way more work than I devoted to many of my university classes. I've learned a heck of a lot on my own, it's fun, I like it... I wish now that I could design that prof's website because I'll happily spend 6+ hours a day in front of my computer. My own site has been a gigantic evolutionary puzzle. Can you remember how it used to be? I barely can, though I know I started learning more than the basics about programming when I wanted to make my magic appearing links. That was the first puzzle, and I eventually figured it out. And then, how can I make it nicer, better, more impressive, more interactive, bigger, stronger, blonder... that kind of thing. So I learn more, until I work it out. Now I'm liking php. It's never strong enough, or blond enough, and although I say "completed! perfected!" it will never be.

So my latest addition is the thesaurus. In theory, it will offer sesquipedalian synonyms for common words, but I don't have very many words in there right now (you could look up "goatlike," but you probably already know my synonym for that one, at least if you've read the lapsionary).

In the end, I really don't know much about computers, especially programming. But I get an idea of what I want (be it invisible links that appear when the cursor passes over them or whatever) and I keep fiddling until it happens. Fiddle fiddle.

The awesome website that has since disappeared

Complete: this one does have a partial black hole (I never got around to it last time); the Lapsionary is fully searchable, and you can also submit new words; the photo gallery is newish; drawings are no longer blogs. Please let me know if anything is awry.

Weery = wary + leary

Lots and lots of time spent on the computer lately has apparently increased my nerd score:


Before I went to Paris, my Mom convinced me that most people are pickpockets. Then in Paris, I steered well clear of anyone loitering around on sidewalks, which is why I didn't have the fun adventures with bracelet-sellers and such that certain other people had. Since then I've always been paranoid that people I pass on the sidewalk will try to mug me, but I'm pretty sure now that that's not true. Everybody I pass these days just smiles, or sometimes strikes up a conversation. Life is easier when you're not weery of people. (I'm fond of that word—weery—try to guess what I mean by it.)

In Victoria!

Live from Victoria! On The Super Bort! I've missed this computer + high speed internet. Now I can play on Facebook all the time. Except Facebook's not so much fun anymore; my only friends seem to be Banjo Cuttlebort and The Dickens. Yep, I'm accumulating fictional friends.

On the way here I concluded that I must be crazy. What the ✗ am I doing on this plane? Things are so very very uncertain. I like having things all planned out, but I have nothing I'm "supposed" to do before next fall (assuming I get accepted, which I sure won't if good ol' Engl Dept Head keeps withholding his reference letter).

Damn you, beef jerky.

Moving time approacheth

Oh my goodness... I am moving tomorrow morning. I'm so nervous. Very excited, but also scared. Up to now, everything in my life has been laid out before me and it didn't take much to just walk through it. This is the first time I've ever taken any sort of leap. Plus I don't know the first thing about living in a city. I'm also pretty paranoid that something will happen to The Super Bort on the airplane (I'm very protective).

Some things you just can't predict how they'll affect your life. Then there are other things that you know are turning points. NYC was one of those, and as I sat in rehearsal for 9 hours every day I felt it was the most important thing I had ever done. Paris and Berlin topped that, and I knew it was an incredible once-in-a-lifetime experience. But this... well this tops everything. Life will never be the same again. Hopefully the plane won't crash. (Fun fact: when I went to Quebec, I was positive that the plane would crash and I would never return home [this was shortly after 9/11]. My biggest concern at the time was that I would never get to watch The Fellowship of the Ring again. Hoo boy.)

"little man on the traffic light"

I can't wait until my domain expires. The blasted server is always down/hacked/not being awesome. And I can't figure out how to transfer the domain to another host. I just hope it expires when it's supposed to. I guess you get what you pay for.

Innumerable thanks to Ryan for helping get my Rhine score suitable for posting. Friggin enfoiblement.

• Mozart's still cranking out new pieces


• I love the Ampelmännchen. "Little man on the traffic light." I got a great Ampelmännchen shirt from a Berlin store that only sold Ampelmännchen-related items.


• Longest song ever. 639 years, that is. "The actual performance commenced in the St. Burchardi church on September 5, 2001 with a pause lasting until February 5, 2003. The first chord was played from then until July 5, 2005. The latest sound from the organ was a three-note chord, A below middle C, C above middle C (A3-C4-Fis4) and F-sharp, which began on January 5, 2006 and concluded on May 5, 2006. The performance is planned to continue until September 5, 2640." Oh that John Cage.


• I think my drawings may be broken. Can you see Dec. 30th's drawing? Man, I really need to host them elsewhere.

I'm terribly addicted to Facebook. (Fun fact: I tried making a facebook account for "Banjo Patterson," and it wouldn't let me. "Enter a real name," it said. wtf? Banjo Patterson is(was) a very famous Australian poet!)

Great Poems

The golden age of poetry is probably over. Here are my favourites. I've always planned to write a Water Night-esque piece for the Horace poem. Moreover...I will. And furthermoreover... I just wanted to say furthermoreover.

Beginnings of a music plot

Christmasfest was good times. A great variety of roast beasts were involved. I'm going to have to go into the liqueur-making business.

I didn't realize you can take some theory classes by correspondence. I also didn't realize that you can get an ARCT in composition and/or theory. Here's the requirements for the Comp & Theory combined ARCT:

1. 3-hour exam in each of the following courses: Renaissance Counterpoint; Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint I; Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint II; Classical Harmony and Counterpoint; Romantic and Post-Romantic Harmony and Counterpoint; Post-1900 Composition Techniques; Orchestration I; Orchestration II; Analysis; History I; History II; Ear Test.
2. Three compositions and one 5000-word research paper.
3. Viva Voce oral defense of work submitted in Part 2.
4. Also must have the pre- and co-requisites of harmony, history, counterpoint, and analysis.

I think I've got me a new project. Right after I finish the Performance ARCT, or maybe I'll work on as much theory as possible now... you only have 5 years to finish all the requirements for the ARCT after you write the first exam, and with so many exams in Part 1 of the Comp/Theory designation it would take a lot of concentrated study. Certainly not while I'm doing my Master's.

So I'm thinking I'll do the 2 remaining exams for Performance ARCT theory co-requisites this year (I do believe that I could be ready to write the exams in August), take a couple years to get back into the vocal groove, and do that ARCT. And then maybe, maybe, I can do up the necessaries to tack on the teacher's ARCT, but I doubt it. And then, when I can afford the time, I'll tackle the Composition/Theory ARCT. But that's a lot of exams, plus three compositions (one piece has to be for orchestra—I've only done the slightest of orchestration), plus a fairly lengthy research paper which shouldn't be too much of a problem but then again maybe it will.

This is the plan. What it will gain me in the end is slightly unclear, as always. I'm fine with that; the more degrees/designations the merrier. I was sad I didn't complete my BFA, but this is an alternate route that I've actually been working on since I was 13 without realizing it.

Speaking of music, I completed the score of Rhine but it will have to wait to be posted. Stupid Finale doesn't export MIDI and I can't find my disk to install it on my Mac, so I tried to scan the printouts and it's so bad that the staves have only three lines. But there you have it. At least now I have a copy of it. Hey... could this count as my solo instrument composition? Probably it has to be way better. Ah well, all in good time. I'll get to compose a choral piece too (choral or chamber, that is, but I'm a choral sort of person—ever since NYC I've wanted to compose like Whitacre).

Christmas songs are crap

Sii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-lent Ni-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ght.
Ho-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ly Ni-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ght.

Kate and I were reminiscing about how Christmas songs these days are crap, and the only stipulation seems to be that you have to drag out each syllable for ~9 seconds. Except for the awesome rock medley, where they must have a drum machine going. I am a poor boy too PA RUM PA PUM PUM!!! [bff-bff-bff-BFF! bff-bff-bff-BFF!] ... 'TIS! the season to be jolly, FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA! LA! LA! So harsh it's great.

Tomorrow is "Christmas" for my immediate family (excepting my brother). I can guess what I'm getting! (I bought and wrapped the presents, after all. To Megan. Merry Christmas.)

My favourite Christmas image: Brent and Hank pulling at opposite ends of an aluminum Christmas tree à la tug-of-war (Brent wants to take it back home because it's his; Hank wants be the good samaritan and take it to the dump). As it is yanked in twain, Wanda gazes heavenward: "God bless us, every one." Yes indeedy.

Either that or I just wanted to say "twain."

All I can say is there had better be some darn epic Boxing Day Celebrations (which would take place on the 24th, naturally, with the 23rd being Christmas—or "X-mas" as [I'm guessing] the makers of certain comic book movies will likely soon advertise it as. An X-Men X-Mas. I'd better get credit when that movie comes out.)

It occurs to me that I haven't been drunk in a very very long time. I should remedy that.

I kind of have butterflies, well not so much butterflies as an awful gut-wrenching feeling of uneasiness and disappoinment. fa la la la la

The Magic of Migraines

This is where I usually get titles for songs and poems. I almost settled for cattalo for my new jazz song. "Exeunt Cattalo" (titter titter—Julie-Anne was admiring my tittering the other day). Better than "Bootless Beetle-Headed Barnacle." Shakespeare is not a good source for titles. Nothing beats a random generator. On that note, there are two new songs and two new recordings of old ones. I think all the static I used to wrestle with was produced entirely by the Luther Chapel, because my recordings at home were pretty good (other than the piano not being great, but I almost like it better than Luther's).

Zumanity's publicist (i.e. the guy I had to send my last article to for review/editing) is named John McCoy. I find that amusing. He liked my article and wants me to send 2 copies of it to him in Las Vegas!

I am now a New Blogger blogger, as opposed to an Old Moldy Blogger blogger. You should be too. All you need is a google account, which—I like to say this whenever I can—if you're normal you should already have.

The (semi)final migraine diagnosis: learn to live with it. I will (maybe) stop complaining about it at least until the summer.

Mēgan's Guide To Living With It

• Eat if you get hungry.
• Never take a nap. If you must take one, for god's sake close the blind and turn on a fan. Better yet: go outside. If it's winter, shovel some snow. If it's summer, jump in the nearest pond.
• Always do your stretches.
• Ibuprofen and Acetaminopen both come in quick-release gel-cap form. They won't help you anyway though.
• Migraine-strength ibuprofen is doubly strong as the regular kind; you should therefore not take the maximum daily dose that you dimly recall being on the regular bottle if you have the stronger kind. Especially not every day. Your stomach will hate you forever.
• Always carry an emergency pill if you leave the house. Even if you're only going to be gone for a couple hours, even if you feel fabulous, even if you've felt fabulous for the entire week. Keep it in your pocket—your pants pocket—so that you'll have it when you need it. It's just going to be useless in your jacket.
• Don't stop taking preventative pills, even if you start feeling fine all the time. Especially if you feel fine all the time, because that's what they (allegedly and occasionally) do, they make you feel fine.
• If your temple feels like it's going to explode, it is probably more likely to explode than if it didn't feel that way. So make it stop feeling that way as soon as possible.
• Don't think that just because you've had it for 2 days it will probably go away if you tough it out for another couple days. It won't. Eat the damn poison. What are you saving it for if not for moments like this?
• Make your doctor prescribe something you know will work. After all, you're the one paying through the nose for semi-normal life; they should give you what's necessary.
• Reiki's a bunch of bullshit. Don't bother with it. "The platelets on your head are out of alignment, that's why you're getting this pain. I'll just put them back in place." Or, my personal favourite: "Purple is associated with energy of the head. Here, I'll give you this purple glowstick. When you get a headache, look at it and your headache will go away."

Freelancin'

One last article to go, then I will be done with deadlines and interviews and all that jazz. One benefit of freelancing is that I sometimes get to talk to interesting people. The final article is about an alumnus who is in Cirque du Soleil. Hmm, that's kind of neat, I think to myself. Turns out I got to interview Canada's world-famous clown Izzy. Pretty darn neat. The surprising thing is that I actually have heard of her before. But I still don't have enough words!

• :0 My goodness, so much free sheet music here. They don't have Liszt's Vallee d'Oberman but I've finally located it elsewhere. Someday I will obtain it and learn to play it.


• mobius bottle!! In one end and out the other... to infinity! I like their suggestion for cleaning it: "Expose the water (but not the glass) to a beam of pure antimatter."


• Ich bin ein Kaboodler. From which you may notice there's a new lapsura store. (For future expansion or elimination.)

Who's There?

I just discovered that my great-grandmother was a Russian princess. Which means you should do as I say.

Knock knock.

Fed Up

Can you believe it? I'm actually sick of watching π.

Argh, I should have been done this blasted article today... My head is so throbbing and I can't think of anything else to write but I still don't have the word count I need. If I make it any more wordy it'll be obvious. Ugh, who's the idiot that invented pain? I don't mind if it's useful, like ow don't touch that it's hot type of pain, or quit bumping your shins on everything you clumsy oaf type of pain. This is just a big waste of time and life.

I ask you, what kind of advice is "oh just go to emergency when you get them"? Yes, just go to emergency, where you'll wait for five hours (on a good day) under those lights that say "BBBBBZZZZZZ!!!" and the smell of hospital (bad place if you've got a touch of nausea). If you're lucky, you can increase the wait time of everybody else and prevent someone with a real emergency from getting timely attention. Do this roughly twice a week? No thanks, I spent my one and only emergency visit with my head between my knees, trying hard not to throw up or feel bitter towards the guy in handcuffs escorted by police who got in right away because he was bleeding all over, then the nurse screwed up both my hands trying to put in an IV ("Oh look, I missed your vein again. You can tell because, see this here, your hand is filling up with the fluid." "I CAN SEE THAT, TAKE IT OUT!!!").

Failed treatments to date: many many. Yes I cower in the dark wearing sunglasses and earplugs. Precioussss. Apparently my pounding temples and I are 10 times more likely to have a stroke. I'm not sure compared to who. Maybe Gollum.

These stupid surveys...

Very frosty. Char keeps peering in the window. I can't sleep.

According to my calculations, my last piano lesson was Dec. 15, 2001. From my mom. Before that, my last lesson with another teacher was in May of that year. And then two days ago I resumed them. Well, mostly I just learn it myself, with my mom saying "now play this scale", "four-note chords will fix that", "you mean you memorized that all since yesterday?" I find it necessary to memorize things so that I can look at my fingers at all times. Technique still needs much work, but less than it would have taken all those years ago. I've also somehow picked up the ability to sight-read partially satisfactorily, something that I had a heck of a problem with back then.

I seem to learn better on my own. It's like my gr. 4 music history exam, for which I perused a textbook for two weeks, crammed for two weeks more, then pretty much transcribed the textbook into the exam, for which I got a 94. You can bet I wouldn't have gotten through all the material if I had actually taken it from a theory teacher.

Now really, all I need is gr. 5 history (I can learn that on my own no problem) and gr. 5 analysis (a month at most), work up my vocal technique, review the scales and learn the new ones, breeze over intervals (my ear training prof always got mad at me: "How can you name thee eenterval vithout even tinking about it?! You say eet before I am feenished playink!"), learn some ditties, do up the ARCT. That's a handful.

These things are always the same. Why do I get them all the time?

1. What is your occupation? right now, freelancer.
2. What color are your socks right now? my what?
3. What are you listening to right now? no, not at the moment.
4. What was the last thing that you ate? a BAGELLL, bagellybagellybagelly (from the bagel store, too! the only one left in Regina)
5. Can you drive a stick shift? Yes, but not so much in a city. Out here, just fine.
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? neon orange
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? somebody's secretary named Ellen. How do they expect me to interview people on two days' notice? People always say "well, I could talk to you late next week, if you want." "um, my deadline's this friday."
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? I think the real question is, why do I get these every single day?
9. How old are you today? ~22
10. Favorite drink? mojito (the kind you get at a refreshment store, not the kind I make myself)
11. What is your favorite sport to watch? something extreme. uphill curling comes to mind. realistically, maybe bobsledding.
12. Have you ever dyed your hair? a couple times, temporarily, for halloween, long ago
14. Pets? a cat (Char) and a horde of llamas
15. Favourite food? anything but croast, and not most sauces.
16. What was the last movie you saw? Amistad. I highly recommend it, as in, if you haven't seen it, go watch it. right now.
17. What is your favourite time of day? late at night is when my mind works at full capacity.
18. What do you do to vent anger? storm out of the house and hide somewhere in the hills. It doesn't happen too often.
19. What was your favourite toy as a child? good ol' sega genesis. I am queen of streetfighter!
20. What is your favourite Fall or Spring? both, but not winter or summer.
22. Cherry or Blueberry? hey, where's #21?
23. Do you want your friends to email you back? what are you talking about? This is a blog, not an email-booth. People don't come here to talk on the phone.
24. Who is most likely to respond? nonsense, all nonsense
25. Who is least likely to respond? you're crazy
26. Living arrangements? on my parents' farm
27. When was the last time you cried? HAHAHA!
28. What is on the floor of your closet? binders of university classwork
29. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending this to? again with the nonsense
30. What did you do last night? sure didn't sleep
31. Favourite smells? mmmmmmm crayon smell. no, just kidding.
32. What inspires you? people and what they do (not all people, mind you)
34. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? I saw a menu the other day that said "pain burger." I've never tried that kind. I bet it's tasty. And where's #33?
35. Country you would most like to visit? so many, where to start? England, New Zealand, France, Germany, Switzerland...
36. Favourite dog breed? I don't know much about dogs, just that my llamas kill them. Ryan's dog is my favorite of all time.
37. Number of keys on your key ring? my what?
38. How many years at your current job? just started, it comes and goes.
39. Favourite day of the week? they're all the same
40. How many Provinces have you lived in? one
41. Favourite holidays? the ones with gatherings

Burninating all those thatched-roof cottages

I love fire. You can erase a lot with fire. I've been going through my room getting rid of things, partly because I won't be hanging around doing nothing forever and I should really put things in order, partly because it's too cluttered to really do anything, and partly because I want to get rid of certain things and put everything in order before I have a stroke or something. Does anyone want a sheaf of drawings? Or perhaps a chapbook full of nonsense poems and old library drawings? No? INTO THE FIRE WITH THEM! (I am not an arsonist, I just find it fascinating that something can disappear forever. It's like toasters: you put in bread, and out comes toast. Where does the bread go?? Beats me.)

This was a new one for me: "This folder contains items whose name is too long for the Recycle Bin."

Christmas is so close... This will be the first year ever that all my siblings won't be together. It'll be a ... Christmas Miracle. Christmas has traditionally been my worst time of year: finals stress, good ol' winter depression, last year's fun times at the emergency. Hopefully most of that is school-related, and it will be the best Christmas ever.

41. stop being such a sarcastard
42. learn to play the guitar/violin/cello
43. get my gr. 10 piano

Day Without Art

Today is World AIDS Day. At the U of R, the Visual Arts department also booked an entire hallway in which they've set up for a Day Without Art. I won't get to see what it's all about though—I wonder how the Visual Arts dept will display a Day Without Art. Intriguing.

I saw a goose flying north today. It's snowing too darn much. I hate snow, but I'll at least allow it to be on the ground. But it should never be in the air.

Yesterday was productive, despite only fractional neck mobility and total lack of will to live (I'd forgotten how debilitating migraines can be). I fixed my laptop, finished my article... OK, here's where I really do kick myself for quitting J-school. Turned out not everyone was disinclined to be interviewed, and the rest of my contacts were great, plus I learned a thing or two about what's involved in book publishing. Most importantly of all, the magazine loved my article. I passed freelancing initiation!

40 before 40

My 40 before 40 list (in the order they occurred to me):

1. marry man of my dreams
   
2. write a book
   
3. record an album
   
4. design a garden
   
5. open a coffe-type shop/art gallery
   
6. become a photographer
   
7. get my ARCT
   
8. live in a city
   
9. get published
   
10. become a stage actor
    
11. travel in Europe
    
12. work on a cruise ship
    
13. get my MA
    
14. complete a PhD
    
15. get a pet (a smart one, like a raven that says "nevermore" or a raccoon or a dog or cat)
    
16. paint paintings
    
17. outgrow migraines
    
18. complete a degree in astronomy
    
19. learn Anglo-Saxon
    
20. become fluent in French
    
21. wander around Paris
    
22. read all the books I own
    
23. travel across Canada by train
    
24. compose choral music
    
25. build a dolmen in my back yard
    
26. own a house
    
27. learn calculus
    
28. work in a greenhouse
    
29. grow a bonsai
    
30. climb a mountain
    
31. be in an opera
    
32. build a theremin (and learn to play it)
    
33. go to the spa
    
34. go to Tibet
    
35. take Tai Chi
    
36. see a solar eclipse
    
37. design clothing
    
38. publish academic paper(s)
    
39. help excavate the Herculaneum library
    
40. visit the Paris Catacombs
    

Shirking? They pay you for that?

• congratulations to me

I'm impressed with the new IE—it even has tabbed browsing. And the first level of my drop-down menus work on it! If you refuse to get Firefox, you should at least upgrade your IE. Drawings have now been converted to the new style.

The last couple weeks have not been busy, but there have been a few things I needed to take care of, like SSHRCing and grad-school-applying. Both of those could probably have been wrapped up in a single week, but the SSHRC took inconceivably long (and just when I thought I was all applied, they sent my application back for me to mull over), and grad school wants several things that I'll have to think about. For one, they want a lengthy essay written in the last 12 months. Unfortunately, the last few English classes I've taken were the rushy, summer-type, where they don't make you write long essays, plus I was working full-time as well so any essays I did write aren't too inspired (except for my Crakespeare essay where I refuted everything the prof asserted—masterpiece!). Too bad I decided to take "fun" classes like astronomy, physics, and music in my last full semester. Well, I don't think it's too bad; that was the best semester ever. But other than the essay (and a statement of intent, and a resume), grad school is pretty much applied for.

I hate how much I struggle with this grad studies thing; if I'm so unsure I want to do a Master's in English, isn't it obvious it's the wrong route to take? But I'm not so sure I'll hate it anymore. I would have enjoyed my summer classes if I had had time to do the reading and understand what was going on. And it's only two years, one of which (hopefully, granted they let me do a thesis program) will be almost entirely my own research on something "interesting" (I put it in quotation marks because, while I do find it interesting, most people wouldn't. I hate it when people ask me to explain my research proposal; I feel like I should be apologizing profusely for wasting their time by explaining it, which is probably why I come across as being unenthused about it). And I'll have a Master's degree at the end. But I really am getting excited about grad studies, and maybe even about doing english-related work after I'm done it. Mostly I'm just afraid of not liking it, afraid of wasting so much time on it. But hey, what have I been doing the last three months if not wasting time?

One reason for my renewed enthusiasm is that I got a freelance writing job. I had hoped to do the research and writing all month, but found out that I only have a week to get my article in. Here's where I should kick myself for quitting J-school—interviewing is not my strong point (and I just discovered today what it's like to interview people who don't want you to waste their time). But I'm not sorry I quit J-school either. Anyways, with any luck this will be the only article I'll be writing.

In fact, I really don't regret any of my university-related choices. I got a little bit of everything, and if I didn't end up focussing on my favourite aspect, well it's really not too late. I can't decide on one thing anyway, but I no longer feel like I have to—I'll just do everything. And I'm excited to start doing it.

Maybe in the new year.

My new hat

Yess! I get a goose on my head! On an unrelated topic, has anyone heard any good paradoxes lately?

Geb Engaging personality, sensitive, modest, occasionally narcissistic, but can rise above vanity. Colors: male: violet, female: rose Compatible Signs:Set, Horus Dates: Feb 12 - Feb 29, Aug 20 - Aug 31 Role: God of the earth Appearance: Green-skinned man, with leaves all over his body and a goose on his head. Sometimes he was shown laying on his side under his wife, the sky goddess Nut. Sacred animals: goose What is Your Egyptian Zodiac Sign?

What's the dl with hunting?

Today is Day 436 of the Sobey's strike. It's hard to believe they've been picketing that long.

The other day I was walking across the fields and I stumbled upon three deer. The first thought that goes through my mind when that happens around this time of year is, "oh crap... is it hunting season?" Because it could very well be the last thought that goes through your mind. I stood there for about 10 minutes, watching them, until they got impatient and started stamping their feet and coming closer to see if I would move. I always know it's hunting season when my dad gets out the binoculars and looks for poachers.

I don't get hunting. I don't understand the mindset that it's fun to kill things. I can understand if people hunt for meat, and extra points for use of bow and arrows. But is it really a "sport" where you sit around with guns and see who can kill the least-suspecting animal? That's like competetive sitting, except with guns.

A few years ago my dad had the crosshairs of a hunter's scope pointed at him. That could have been terribly devastating. Another time, some hunters followed the schoolbus to my house and, when I emerged from the bus, said "There are some deer down in the creek, can we go shoot them?" My response: "?? Those are my llamas!!!" Besides which, it's hard to miss the "Wildlife Sanctuary! No Tresspassing! Permission Required for Access!" signs all over. So I think I'm justified in not liking hunting.

I know as well as anybody that too many deer cause problems. Heck, I spent many years wiring hundreds of trees so that deer wouldn't destroy them. Some years two hundred deer would lounge around in our back yard. Then there was the winter of the deer virus (whatever it was) where they were dropping like flies all over. I remember one day when two were laying by the llama barn, and I walked right up to them and looked them in the eye but they were too sick to move. Later that day I helped pile up and burn over 50 deer carcasses that were scattered around the farm. I seem to remember some people lamenting that the virus was making for poor hunting that year. Oh, how terrible for you hunters; the deer are dying off faster than you can kill them. And I guess deer are bad news when you run into them on the road and they come through your windshield and kick your head in to mush, but as far as I know that's only happened once within living memory around here.

As much as I dislike hunting, I can at least tolerate it (unlike poaching, I might add). After all, my brother and I made good money one year when we combed all the nearby sloughs for fallen antlers (it involved a fair amount of rafting down the Wascana), and sold them to a local taxidermist. But taxidermy too I can't quite fathom. Who wants dead animals standing in their basement, or stuffed heads hanging on their walls? That's as creepy as the guy who had himself stuffed after his death. Or almost.

Unravel the Injustice

Friday's Unravel the Injustice evening went well. I didn't get much of a chance to hear the speakers or watch the sweatshop presentation during the first half, because I was helping keep the models backstage organized. But, I did sneak out during the second half to listen to the keynote speaker Shirley Klassen talk about the effects of NAFTA in Mexico.

So 1994 was the year the North American Free Trade Agreement was signed, which was basically the FTA extended to Mexico. It was also the year of the Mexican Peso crisis. Maquiladoras are manufacturing zones in Mexico. Under NAFTA, thousands of jobs disappeared from Canada and the US to Mexico, and sweatshop jobs were created where workers earned US$50 per week. Good paying service sector jobs disappeared because of privatization. In order to allow NAFTA, the Mexican government changed the constitution to allow foreign ownership of indigenous lands, and that ownership went to transnationals. Roads, education, and healthcare were privatized when the government simply removed services; the services were eventually brought back through American contracts and privatization. The control of the military also went to transnationals. Now all crops are of genetically modified seed. Railways, which were once for people, are now privatized and only for the transportation of goods.

Mexicans were forced off their rural lands into urban centres; many squat in colonia—shanty towns that grow in the toxic wastelands created by manufacturing. Piles of toxic waste sit beside people’s houses. According to the statement of a member of a delegation who visited a colonia, the Rio Grande was a toxic soup where people fished. Fish are found floating dead, some are mutated, and when they are cut open are blackened inside. For the Mexicans, the choice was simple: “eat this now and die later, or don’t eat anything and die now.” The delegate also mentioned that the stench of the Rio Grande alone made one of the other delegates vomit. And, when asked why they chose to live in the toxic areas, Mexicans said that they had no choice; they had been forced off their lands, and nobody bothered them here.

Chapter 11 of NAFTA allows corporations and individuals to sue governments. My friend Wikipedia tells me here that "Metalclad, an American corporation, was awarded US$15.6 million from Mexico after a Mexican municipality refused a construction permit for the hazardous waste landfill it intended to construct in El Llano, Aguascalientes." Does anybody else think NAFTA doesn't really benefit people?

Coalition for Justice in the Maquiladoras

Facebook

Calloo callay, tra la la la! Ah, things are looking up. Wooo! That's right, I said "woo" without a "t." Now if that isn't a paradox, I don't know what is.

The forum has a new strategy: you should post. Check it out here, and do let me know if you want to be able to post. Do.

[P.S. drawings will be semi-weekly rather than daily (or rather than never, as per recently)]

If you're on facebook, then you should add me. If you're not, then you should be.

Lest We Forget

"Lest we forget" is the catchphrase around this time of year. It comes from Rudyard Kipling's 1897 poem "Recessional." Obviously, he didn't have the World Wars in mind at that early date (actually, maybe he did; he predicted that the Boer War was just a skirmish and the most important war of all time was yet to come in the early 20th century. But this poem is not about that). My best prof happened to be a Kipling expert, so this is what I learned from her.

First, you need to know a few things about Imperialism and Kipling's view of it. Kipling spent a good portion of his life in India, where he was born. He must have seen the toll Imperialism had on colonized peoples. At a time when Imperialism happened in faraway places that ordinary people didn't see, it was easy to turn a blind eye towards its effects, or just not know about them. Rudyard Kipling knew. He knew that Imperialism was one of the ugliest things there is. And yet, he felt that it was necessary; apalling, but necessary. The same went for war in general; there was nothing glorious about it (many people at the time were suckered into the notion, though), but it was necessary. The "lest we forget" enters here: as necessary as war and Imperialism were, Kipling felt that it was of vital importance that we always remember the cost it exacted.

And what was that cost? Interestingly enough, not the sacrifice that soldiers make in going to war. Rather, it was the sacrifice we make of our soldiers. It is our duty to know why that sacrifice was made, and why it is important. One other interesting point: "lest we forget" is, I think, now linked to the general idea that soldiers fight for peace. Kipling, though, believed that soldiers died for freedom, not for peace (remember, war is necessary and you can't get rid of it). What he despairs of is that the sacrifice we have made of others will be rendered faceless.

Others didn't share Kipling's views. In 1899, for example, Robert Buchanan accused Kipling of "hooliganism" (sounds almost like soccer). Buchanan thought Imperialism itself was a noble goal, and shouldn't acknowledge the nature of its own project. We shouldn't know the cost that Imperialism exacts.

From the 1890s on, Kipling's work predicted an English war with Germany. That coming war, Kipling felt, was the war that mattered. Kipling believed that Britain was unprepared for such a war—and they were. He believed that the treatment of ordinary soldiers would put them at risk—and it did. The crazy prevailing view was that soldiers were too stupid to do anything other than walk forwards in rows. We all know how that turned out. Here's the last bit of Kipling's poem "Tommy":

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country," when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool — you bet that Tommy sees!

HIST 390BP

I couldn't find my Paris/Berlin travel journal for about a year, but yesterday I accidentally discovered it. In the drawer I now remember putting it in. It's funny reading what I thought was important to write down:

• "I had 'canard avec pomme'—duck and potatoes (not apples)—and some French lady asked me to dance, but I was highly embarrassed and declined."
• "We each had to pay €2 for 'musique', which wasn't very good. The lady liked to sing off-key (Germani said he had been there 20 years earlier and the entertainment had been the same). The rest of us played games that penalized the dull-witted. Bredohl lost this game, he couldn't figure out that Julia was describing him when she said 'patent leather shoes, purse.'"
• "The S-Bahn had technical difficulties, and there happened to be a soccer game, so you can imagine the soccer hooligans piling on the U-Bahn (the one headed for Olympic Stadium)."
• "Breakfast is fantastic in this hotel. Did I mention that yesterday I paid €2 to honk a homeless man's bicycle horn, then got a 'free' homeless paper for doing so?" [I still have to learn German so I can read it]
• "Germani is terribly out of his element in Berlin. Yesterday he stepped on a snail and then a dog sneezed on his foot. Today he poured coffee all over the tablecloth. At the KaDeWe he couldn't find us at the meeting place we had arranged; we saw him come out and take off in another direction, and though Bredohl ran, he missed him. Then he went missing for half an hour after he fell behind when Whatshisface led us through Kreutzberg and Bredohl had to go find him again."
• "Germani and Bredohl looked like they wanted to climb in the playground. German accent: 'Ian, I'm hanging like a monkey!' British accent: 'Thomas! I'm in the cubby!'"

Sadly, the journal ends midway through Berlin. It's astounding just how much we saw and how far we walked each day, especially in Paris where marathon-man Germani was guiding us.

Not a student, but still Shirking

Fun fact: driving a real car (as opposed to a crap one) with a cd player (as opposed to no audio of any kind) makes you almost enjoy driving. But not quite.

I'm killing time in the ol' Luther library (birthplace of drawings) for...oh, another couple hours, anyway. Either this computer clock's wrong, or I've been unobservant and not noticed half a dozen hours slip by. You can only play the piano so long, especially if strange people keep gawking at you and you haven't played in weeks and you're kind of falling asleep and you're just kind of half-heartedly watching your fingers to see where they'll go without really remembering where they're supposed to go. It's happening again right now while I'm typing this. Look at those fingers, what are they doing? It's one of those days, where I just don't care about much. Most days.

The reason I'm here in the first place is that I was obliged to go to a workshop that was supposed to help me with scholarship-applying. If by "help" they mean "point out what a tiny fraction of a chance I have," I guess it went fairly well. I almost suspect it was contrived just to convince me not to do grad studies. The general consensus was that there's no such thing as secular Anglo-Saxon poetry. This evening there's a lecture here at the university—I can't quite recall what it's supposed to be about, but at any rate it will be my first lecture since finishing school.

It's strange walking around the university and not belonging at all, though I've done quite a bit of wandering around here lately. I've discovered that the university doesn't love you unless you're a student (and then still probably not, but if you're not a student or in any other way connected to the university, you're doomed). They almost wouldn't let me take out some books again (I just wanted to practice shelving at home).

Apparently my brother had trouble getting a bunch of seed through Australian customs this weekend, but last I heard he was in Melbourne okay. This one's for him. The last couple days have been warm enough to melt all the snow, and today it was even raining. My headaches seem to have returned, as well as the old insomnia. I blame computers. And possibly the toxic wood preservative I was working with all morning.

Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty

Well, last time's empty fun fact was an artistic statement (or something), but supplying your own fun fact was a good idea too. This week's fun fact: the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT). You can read more about it on good old Wikipedia here. Other topics of interest are the Agreed Framework and NATO.

First Pillar: non-proliferation

“Five states are permitted by the NPT [Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty] to own nuclear weapons”—namely, France, Russia, China, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Why? Because they were “the only states possessing such weapons at the time the treaty was opened to signature.”

Second Pillar: disarmament

According to Article 6 of the Treaty, “The states undertake to negotiate toward general and complete disarmament under strict and effective international control.”

NWS parties have a formal obligation to “pursue plans to reduce and liquidate their stockpiles”—a formal obligation, that is, which “has never been adhered to by the NPT-recognized nuclear weapons states…. The failure of the NPT-recognized nuclear weapons states to comply with their disarmament obligations, and the unconditional indefinite extension of the NPT, has left a simmering discontent among many signatories of the NPT, and a justification for the non-signatories to develop their own nuclear arsenals.”

Third Pillar: the right to peacefully use nuclear technology

The NPT “gives every state the inalienable right to use nuclear energy for peaceful purposes,” such as light water reactor nuclear power.
Now, here are some fun facts on NATO nuclear weapons sharing:

• “At the time the treaty was being negotiated, NATO had in place secret nuclear weapons sharing agreements whereby the United States provided nuclear weapons to be deployed by, and stored in, other NATO states.”


• “As of 2005, it is estimated that the United States still provides between 180 and 480 tactical B61 nuclear bombs for use by Belgium, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands and Turkey under these NATO agreements.”

Well, so much for nonproliferation. “Under NATO convention, in the event of a declaration of war, these nuclear weapons cease to be subject to [the NPT] treaty. Such a declaration my occur quickly, and in secret; in effect, the NATO nations will become instantaneous overseas bases for deployment and usage of U.S. nuclear weapons. Many would argue that this situation violates the spirit of the treaty, and perhaps even the written rule.”
In Iran:

• Iran has a uranium enrichment program, which is “a step towards a civilian nuclear energy program, which is allowed under the terms of the NPT”—that good old unalienable right. “However, the United States and the European Union accuse Iran of using this program to help covertly develop nuclear weapons, in violation of the NPT. Iran remains under investigation by the International Atomic Energy Agency, which has found no evidence of a nuclear weapons program.”

Now, as for North Korea:

• North Korean Foreign Ministry statement: “We had already taken the resolute action of pulling out of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty and have manufactured nuclear arms for self-defence to cope with the Bush administration’s evermore undisguised policy to isolate and stifle the DPRK.”


• Terms of the Agreed Framework (signed in 1994) include:
  
  • North Korea’s obligations: shutdown of the Yongbyon nuclear reactor; abandoning construction of two larger nuclear power plants; placing of spent fuel under IAEA controls.
  • What they get in return: two light water reactors to be constructed by 2003, primarily supplied by Japan and South Korea.
  • Soon after, the US came under the administration of the Republicans, who—although they didn’t support the agreement—“agreed to phase out economic sanctions that had been in place since the Korean War.”

The US didn’t deliver on this though, and by 1999 “North Korea warned that they would resume nuclear research unless the US kept up its end of the bargain.” North Korea withdrew from the NPT in 2003.

Here’s a breakdown of the opinions at the 2005 Review Conference of the NPT (happens every 5 years):

• United States: “wanted the conference to focus on proliferation, especially on its allegations against Iran”
• Most other countries: “emphasized the serious nuclear disarmament by the nuclear powers”

I don’t believe anybody should have nuclear weapons, but if you’re someone like Iran and the US is trying to stop your nuclear energy program, when the US itself is probably the most nuclear state there is—and quite obviously has no plans for disarmament—then how can you help being angry? Or say you’re North Korea and you were promised some light water reactors (for civilian nuclear energy), and then never got them? Nobody likes a Global Police, or Big Brother, or whatever you call it.