according to some show i am watching, this sunday night are the oscar awards for the art of film. they asked some guy nominated for some award on how he feels about it. apparently he's humbled to have been nominated and that is enough for him, doesn't care who wins and will enjoy the show.

i'm not exactly sure what really means behind such a comment because you cannot take it at face value. there is a hidden message lurking when celebrities state this. are they saying this a waste of their time but they'll pretend to care, show up to say a few pointless words if their name is called? i'd like to think many celebrities approach it this way. i mean, they get paid for the movie not for the award. as a far as i am concerned the oscar is just a trophy with no cashable checks being handed out backstage later on to accompany him. movie awards are not like some bonus at a regular person's job where the award carries a financial incentive for their contribution. for an actor making films and getting paid, that's the reward. should they win an oscar, it compares to a regular person at a regular job going to the company party getting a coffee mug with their logo on it. like what the fuck? i came to this for a coffee mug? fuck this! i would be interested in knowing what percentage of people nominated act this way.

now on the television programme about the oscars, they asked another girl nominated for the first time how she feels. in her reponse she stated being extremely nervous. can you take that comment on face value? no probably not. what does being nervous before the award show really mean? i'd like to think the person hopes for their dear life to win because if they do not, the next role will be on a made-for-tv movie. they just do not want to come out and say for fearing of losing before the award show goes to air. so they guise the true intentions below subtle fears if they are to be rejected. that's what pisses me off about these shows. i've never actually heard any of them come out and be all, "fuck yeah! i hope i win! what the fuck do you think?! moron". i'm sure a good chunk of the nominees are having those thoughts float in their mind as they lie by saying they're nervous.

if they injected award shows with more authencity and sucked out the insincere modesty, i'd probably tune in to watch. the preshow interview would have the nominees trash talking each other, bashing their movies and it must happen, physical violence. the actual criteria for awarding best actor would not only include the actual vote, but the nominees would have some sort of feats of strength contest. having some hundred old dudes watch films and then judge what and who is the best is not satisfactory for me.

the actual award shows would get rid of the divisions between awards based on sex. what is the point of making best male and best female categories? i've never actually understood the point behind this division. are somehow male and female actors that different that they cannot be judged equally? is this some kind of job equity programme instituted by the government to include equal recognition. who came up with his brillliant idea and why the fuck is it this still around? now i know the hollywood neighbourhood isn't shy about the liberal beliefs, but isn't this straying away from their beliefs? wouldn't they wouldn't to eliminate these distinctions? it's another reason i do not watch awards because i do not watch movies to see who is the best male and the best female, just simply who is the best.

also awards do not change my opinion on who is the best after they've been handed out. ed norton was the best actor of 1999 in fight club but no oscar award to prove that. i do not know who won in '99 but i do not care because mr. norton was the fucking man! all of us come in with our list of favourites, and whether they are not even nominated, they'll always be the best. no awarded being handed to someone else is going to change. looking at the list of best movies, i have not seen any of them and doubtfully will until they are playing on tbs every 5 hours. by then, i'll pretty much be forced to watch it. that's why award shows literary mean nothing. they achieve nothing. prove nothing. persuade no one and the most expensive and unproductive project since the soviet union.

which is why i do not get our culture's fascination with award shows such as grammy's and the oscars. when people say they mean nothing, they're absolutely right. the arts are too subjective to be judged and then voted on with greatest plurality chosen as the best whatever. it doesn't make it the best by the fact a small percentage of those who saw it actually vote on it. there's of course the people's choice awards but on the status scale, they rank up there with the coffee mugs i talked about earlier. so if you think about it, the oscars mean so much as being the pinnacle of film awards and yet, a miniscule fraction actually decide on what is the best. it's almost as bad as majority of the world's democratic nation. so few of us vote but so much is at stake. maybe that's a horrible analogy because the democratic vote means a lot more than an oscar.

but then again, in our culture, for some people the oscar holds so much more than their democratic duty. which is also one of the reasons i find celebrities and political causes so suspicious. i mean, political celebrities may have the most sincere intentions when speaking their minds, but the selfishness of the hollywood community makes it seem they are isolated in their own paradise: do not marry outside of their celebrity friends fear of losing their social status, don't exactly walk through town out of fear and so forth. in their amazing uptopian world, do they really care about bush's proposal to privatize social security? maybe a few of them do, but a dickload made enough to live easily and no need to fret about coin when they "retire."

so this sunday as millions tune into to watch people walk down a red carpet to show off their attractiveness (or ugliness), i'll do something else like, i'm not sure what exactly, but avoid the oscars. to sum it up, they are fake, boring, nothing anyone can really relate to and generally do not make a shitting difference in our shitty lives.

so this sunday evening you should to something other than watch television. grab your lover. friend. book. wife. child. sibling. or blog. whoever and do something exclusively with them because the awards aren't going to mean anything at all come monday morning and your life will lose out on a potentially meaningful occurance. potentially, i can't guarantee anything.

i think i've lost faith in people. well, not all, but those who deal drugs. in all my time i've never come across a bad deal and despite all the testimonials ive heard of shitty drugs circulating in various circles, i've trusted that those skillful producers would pull out the goods. it's what they do. it's how they get by. i think if you're a producer you want your goods to be solid gold to have the customers coming back for more. it's always about maintaining a good repertoire if you want to be known. it's like any other business strategy, except this one provides a service and/or goods that is illegal according to your federal legislators.

sunday evening i got home from ottawa and was left with no drugs. even the rainy day stash went up in smoke while visiting some chums in the nation's capital. being so obsessive-compulsive about making sure there is drugs on me, i always stock up prior to the existing stash running out. unfortunately i broke this rule over the weekend and needed to set everything straight before monday morning was upon me. unfortunately my link now has 'business hours' as if he's trying to take his operations legit. sunday night the operators are not standing by.

so i dial up the weed 411 directory. this is an old chum from my high school days who knows the scene inside/out. he's the sort of contact everyone needs to have for a variety of purposes; not only drug related. there was a time when we were good friends but for whatever reason, we've drifted apart over recent years. now i only call in my dire time of need and when he calls, i tend to ignore him. there was a time i would call him; pretend to care and actually meet up for a few minutes before getting the phone number and the drugs. now he understands the intentions of my calls and after a quick exchange of meaningless pleasantries, a phone number is given and we go about our own business.

i call up the mysterious phone number and within 60 seconds the verbal agreement is made and a location is chosen. it's a 15 minute drive but that gives me enough time to call up another chum to tell him to put on his pants and wait for my grand arrival at a nearby plaza within 25-30 minutes. this gives him aqequate time to put those pants on.

fifteen minutes later--more less--i arrive at the agreed upon location and am waiting in the idling car when a figure emerges out of the woods. given the fact no one else would emerge out of those woods at this hour, it must be the drug man. i nod my head, he responds with a nod and i get all giddy inside. i get out of the car, walk up to him, ask nothing, hand the money and he hands the goodies. i think i thanked him, i don't remember. i shove the drugs in my coat pocket and race to meet the chum who is getting his pants on.

i get to plaza only to find it vacant. i guess he has yet to put his pants on. rather than idling and wasting time in the parking lot, i drive down the street i expect him to be on. low and behold, he's there shuffling along with his pants on. he jumps in the car and we are on your way to nearby schoolyard where i can car the park between the portables and do our thang.

in the school yard, i empty the contents of my coat pocket to feel the little baggie a little softer than it normally ought to. i open it up and sniffing it reminds me of a certain herb. the kind often i taste when eating italian or greek food. yes that's right. i paid $20 for two dimes of oregano. if it was in fact drugs, he would have been rather generous compared to the rest of them. there was no use in calling the seller as being taken for a fool was humiliating enough. call to let him know that would further contribute to laughter on his side.

after yelling out obscenities until i lost my voice or i spiralled into great sadness for being let down two fold: first, weed 411 gave me a bad connection and the connection had the balls to take my money in exchange for something i am going to put on my garlic bread. but i must give credit where credit is due and entrepreneurial scam that he's running. either that, or i am that big of a sucker that he detected that ahead of time in our brief exchange on the phone. either way, the incident is developing a degree of humour to it.

it could be that weed 411 got tired of my calls only in dire moments of needs and played me for a fool. maybe this was a scheme planned out well in advance next time that inevitable call came. i've never doubted weed 411 over the past 24 months because he's been a god sent in this area of networking. after all, thanks to weed 411 the guy who is no longer available on sunday nights has been a dream come true for last little while. i am sort of at a loss at what level i was betrayed at and am pondering whether a call to weed 411 is due. after all, there was a time i called him a good friend and he did likewise. maybe he can shed some light onto my anger and why the loss of the twenty bucks isn't the issue. this is a trust issue and the people i've always put on the pedestal as the superlative business people have lost that status.

now, there is no one you can trust.

unless you are living under a rock (or outside of canada) you probably learned the nhl cancelled the season. there's been so much spin on both sides of the conflict, that you no longer know who to believe and where does the league go from here. either way; both sides messed up and we will not see the stanley cup being rewarded this spring. the loss of this historic cup however only seems to resonate in these parts of the globe and but elsewhere,it's life as usual.

the country of canada collectively shed a tear of sadness while the rest of the world didn't having a fucking clue what was going on. you can't blame it though because it's not their fault hockey isn't god outside of canada. i guess that's the thing about this sport: unless you live outside of these borders you just do not get it.

sorta like if david beckham (the soccer star, aka "football" star for non-american readers) turned out not to have a penis. do you know what would happen in england? people kill themselves. people doucing their british blood in favour of the french. i'm sure the country would descend into utter choas overthrowing its symbolic monarchy and publicly hanging charles with his mother elizabeth II just for the sake of it. all because of beckham's lack of penis. that's the brits and their soccer, ahem, football. but if i heard the story, i'd laugh and think, "damn stupid english people, it's only soccer."

remember when that dale earnhardt (or whatever) racer guy crashed into the wall and died? it was SUCH a big story whenever i put on cnn, nbc, cbs, or any american station. i was quite annoyed and thought, "why don't they cover REAL stories not some stupid fool who drives cars fast in circles for a living? he deserved it if that's his job." but shit, americans wept and wept and you had children being interviewed on what dale meant to them and how he was a role model for them. all of us outside of that country were like on, "god dammit! put my 'friends' back on!!" we just didn't get what the fuss was about. nascar's death of its living legend just didn't generate much sympathy around here, we simply could careless. but can you imagine what would happen here in canada if wayne gretzky was shot dead? i can't even begin to get my mind around it but something along the example of england above would suffice.

i guess it is easy to understand why the loss of hockey is so big in canada but no where else. i mean, yes, financially the states stand to suffer but culture wise, the death of the season carries so more weight for us. hockey; that's our "thing"; we know it and so does the rest of the world. whenever you have a foreigner learn you are canadian typically you'd hear something like, "you like your hockey, dont you?!" when early culture cues are tossed around. the cold long winter just got longer with today's announcement. but our united longing will ultimately save the game. what else do you we have really? it's the glue of the nation.

maybe it's sad that it took a professional sport to make our mark on the rest of the world, but we're damn good at it and that's well, about it, what else is there?. name anything else were known for outside of the country? you never hear the french say something like, "damn those canadians and their fine wine from ontario." you don't hear fidel castro compliment canada's worldly renowned cigar*.

in a globalized environment; the world associated us with excellence in hockey. the little things go unnoticed but the big things matter. now the sphere where this domination originates has been locked out until at least september. that's why we watch hockey; we take pride in what it does to the country as a whole. watching canadian born professionals dominate on the ice, their control of the lockroom among other foreigners is rewarding in some way. we justify their grossly overpaid salaries because of the pride their power instills in the national mystique. but when bob the co-worker makes a little more money for what appears to be a more cozy job, we bitch to high heaven. though he may more canadian than anyone in the history of time and give more to the meaning of canadian mystique, bob the account's money just cannot have the same importance as the hockey player.

and that's why the loss of the season will the ultimate gain for hockey, in this country at least. once the league starts up, we'll do everything and anything to avoid this from happening again. the loss of hockey in canada is what 9/11 is for america. i mean that in a non controversial way and by no means are offending anyone. here is where the "out of context" response would apply if you are offended right now.

once hockey returns, we'll rush to save it and spend tons and tons of money to ensure it's survival and long-term existance. whether it has the same result in the states, we won't care and move on because hockey is our thing, and what's going on with it outside of the states isn't worth caring about. we get more upset by canadian teams leaving and heading south because they have a better chance of making money there. see what happened with quebec moving to colorado? it's like part of us was ripped away. even though the colorado move was smart and it's become of the best teams in the league, we linger for the old nordiques. i can't imagine how the city dealt with that one.

so hockey will live on folks. and those who "do not care" about today's news will start caring the second hockey is back. they'll even support the league even if they hire replacement players. **

so do not worry canadians, the cancelled season is going to be the saving grace of our love of the sport. never again will we let this happen again and huddle around our sport and develop hockey players like robot machines.

*we do not actually produce cigars, no need to fret fidel, your nation still kicks ass

**can you imagine how cool it would be to watch nhl replacement league highlights?. all those super rich hockey players standing outside of the arena throwing eggs at the replacement players entering the place where money is made. that would be AWESOME television.

last night after pointless work i went to see the doughboys. not the band but old folks from my high school. doughboys are two half-jamiacan twins who work their asses off pulling in lots of dough and lay more chicks than mothergoose. like myself their loving was suppsed to be brewing in time for tonight's romancing brought to you by the good people at hallmark. so the cynics or the "anti-valetine" crowd as they prefer to be called boycot tonight's loving arguing february 14th is capitalism banking on the anxious crowd and pinches at heart of our human fears: isolation. we give in, find someone--anyone--and proceed to spend onwards $50-100 because the talk surrounding the extra loving that is necessary today is too much to bare. and to some extent it's true, whenever valentine rolled around and there was no one to buy a hallmark for, i wept silently. but this year, i have misty queen (formely known as lady friend of significance; i needed to shorten it down) and not only because today is february 14th.

so as the three of us were trying to preserve our loving urges for one more night, we gave into our other lovely temptation. these boys have learned and grown so much since being skinny looking wads back in grade 9. i used to tease them because they were so short but years later i look like a lawn gnome compared to these monsters. so i keep the past jokes to myself as they aren't as humourous as they once were. also, the doughboys drink alot. last night hanging out in their apartment and watching them drink themselves stupid and myself not to partaking in the festivities (some pr campaign about drinking and driving says it might not be so legal), i was getting nervous. i tried to say something, but the typipcal response was, "chill, i'm black." then i laughed and proceed to mooch more of their fine drugs.

with time i got bored when some of their friends came over. people from high school that make me uncomfortable till this day. it's instant repeater all over again. they had some "beef" against me which i still do not know what plus i thought they were a bunch of stuck up pricks. even last night they were acting cold as if they didn't know who i was. i bit my lip and took their bullshit. i exchange a few of pretending to care what they've been up to and made my way out based on some bullshit excuse about work in the morning. i don't know why doughboys still associate with these people, they are so much better than them. in high school it made sense, the doughboys were perfect in this little clam but they aren't the little children they once were. it's why being friends with doughboys is so hard with this extra baggage travelling with them. however, their peanut-butter-dank is solid material and makes me want to keep the doughboys at arms length.

after the uncomfortable meeting with faces i'd do anything to avoid i leave the nice apartment that is home of the doughboys. i decide to break promise of resisting misty queen for one more night. on a sunday evening, she happens to be awake watching the trite grammy awards and hoping i'd throw a line. i am telepathic like that. her as well, thinks hallmark shouldn't tell us when to do our romancizing. i tell her i shall be at her place within 40 minutes and to be ready. i arrive 15 minutes ahead of time and she's already waiting on the front stairs as i pull in. the hair cut she got the prior day makes her even more pleasing to the eyes. i know the haircut is to please her mediterranean fantasy boy but her story is that, the new look is for me and the night of 14th february. whatever, looking at the way she looks, i'll believe anything she says as the holy sacred word. according to some fancy pancy behavioural neuroscienist out of england:

It appears that human males are particularly influenced by visual cues from females and of the two sexes tend to fall in love the quickest.

we break the febuary 14th deadline twenty-hours prior to our original plan. we stuck it to the man and hallmark. though technically it was the 14th as the clock had struck midnight by the time all was said and done. but hey, no need to focus on the nitty-gritty. february 13th of 2005 will forever go down in history as our valentine.

where i work there is a girl who looks just like a porn actress i am all too familiar with. when fantasy is mixed with reality, you can't function properly and act like normal civilized person. i want to have a normal co-worker relationship with her and pretend to be actually instered on what one says, but i have trouble with co-worker-porn-star-look-alike. all i want to do is ask her, "does that actually work?...how were you able to physically do that scene?" that's all i want to know from her based on the questions i have about the real porn star. also i wanna take her out too lunch, pay for it and when she asks what i want instead, i just scratch my chin and say, "well... there is one thing you can do." next thing you know light bass music begins and within moments we are making sweet passionate love on diaper changing table in the mcdonald's washroom. that's what would've happen in the porn movie and this co-worker makes me think about porn too much. the only problem is that she does not seem to be the type that would fornicate with another in exchange for mc dee's combo #4. i guess the moral of the story is because someone looks like someone you see on television, doesn't mean they are the same person at all. instead of trying to find someone based on the ideal type you've created in your mind, get to know the person for who they are and what you want them to be.

i have a tendency to judge people based on their place of location and ethnic background. it's my screening process and a sort of administrative tasks of categorizing the complexity human life in simple easy-to-understand file folders. i think the appropriate word for this is: stereotype. here's a few examples of the way this process plays itself out in my mind. one day i meet a polish male and assume the following: probably a big dickhead, know it all, functional alcoholic, do not have non-polish friends, and has his head up his ass. if i meet a polish female i conclude the following: if things go accordingly (ie: i spend money on her), she will be naked within the next 48 hours. i meet an american, male or female: i assume they think they are better than me. in all my life and all the americans i've met, only one didn't think she was better than me. though she was, that's not the point. when i meet a jew i think: you're probably 20 times wealthier than i'll ever be and yet you continue to shop at discount store. when i meet an eastern indian female, i think that would possibly be interested in loving a nice white boy but her papa would slaughter her if she came home with a non-indian. which is a shame because they have the kama sutra and us white boys could learn a thing or two from that funky erotic book. practical training so to speak. if you're a christian i assume: you think you have it better because jesus is watching over you, you're boring and a virgin awaiting the wedding night.

when i meet black a person i think to myself: i don't know why are you so marginalized as being the evil of the world but the way you are looking at me makes think you've got illegal plans transpiring in your mind. i'm sorry blacks of the world, i really wish i did not have these hackneyed thoughts but my mind has been warped by years of bad experience and watching the idiot box. granted, i know the majority of you are good people, contributing to society in positive means, but we needed a scape-goat behind the plagues of the modern world. i guess it was your race was pulled out of the hat when we chose to hold a group of people to be responsible for the way we are collectively fucking up. i know it's not fair because your life is way harder than a white person. but when i see a black person in a position of authority and higher status, i think to myself, "fucking right! you've beat the system." you have no choice but to pay deference to these situations because that's determination and persistence to the 11th degree. that's someone how took control of their life and made something of it when they are expected to the problems of society.

yes stereotypes are practical ways of putting people around into the simple "other" groupings and that isn't necessarily good. you see from the examples above how anyone of that particular background could get offended on how i approach them when i meet them. but that's not the point of stereotypes. in the long run, one needs to judge stereotypes in the ways people break away from the conventional preceptions we have about others. it means you refuse to be pigeon-holed and want to assert your individuality. if you're black and allow me to think of the ways mentioned above, it means you're giving up and your potential is wasted. you've given in to their ways of limiting you and making you a mere cog in the machine. this is not the way i want to think about others, i really do not. i want to know the person as the individual not the stereotype and typically these are the people i have in my life today. when i met them, they were plain paradigms of their backgrounds, today they are free souls not bothered by what is expected of them. they construct their own realities and for that, i love them all.

in the year gap between the break up with "high school love" and the near reconcilliation, i dated 'deftone girl' for short while. we'll call her that because it is her favourite band. i think highly of the deftones. the relationship was good because it numb. nothing about it meant anything at all. she was using me to get back at her ex and while i was provided with solid quality weed. this was the circle of this loving relationship. it was not till deftone girl did i know what being stoned meant. i don't know whether it was the weed, the atmosphere, her godly bong and all sorts of tricks that she knew, but i'd get fucked up to the point i'd think cocaine would help me sober up. but we never did score coke because her coke dealer was the ex boyfriend she was trying to get back at by dating me. if we were to show up at the ex's in search of coke the guy would have a double laugh. i'm glad we never did get the coke or i wouldn't be the person i am here today. plus she wouldn't want to responsible for my possible death. my death would the least of her worries but being held responsible is something deftone girl wouldn't take well. in general, that's the kind of person she was; selfish, unabashed, egocentric and i hated her. but she was nice to look at, always horny and of course, the portal to drugs and heaven. this is the type of girl one needs when every night they go to bed thinking of their own story of 'high school love.'

we'd sit in her room, smoke disgusting amounts of weed and go on expeditions. typically we would get on the subway and sit there quietly observing everything around us. every detail had to be absorbed nothing could be omitted. after 30 minutes we would get off the bus and exchange stories about the people sitting on the bus. we'd give them names, birth dates, places of residents, marital status, why they are on the bus, where are they going; their physical flaws, their mental flaws, their life rejections, their hopes. anything that could be drawn from watching strangers sitting on the bus would be used to create our own visions of their world. we played god and got a kick out of it. we concluded our stories are 95% accurate with the actual reality and margin of error of +/-2.5%. the sample size was fucking huge. not systematically random.

creating lives for people is fairly simple. the way people conduct themselves in public is a good indication of how their personal lives. fear, anxiety, regret, rejection, disappointment is written on one's face. if you see that in their eyes you see their life and the direction its heading.

typically you'd look at me and see a gauky nerdy shrimp looking creature heading for a numbing 'yes sir' job. maybe a wife. but only in the dying days of his life when the loneliness requires one to give in and find an equally lonely creature. i know you're thinking that i have little reason to blame you. but i'll prove all you wrong. i'll invent my patent washer/dryer IN ONE and make millions because of lazy house wives. the washer/dryer IN ONE will revolutionize the way your laundry is done. never again will you have to throw your clothes into the dryer after the wash. think of the time you'll save and spend it making love to your husband instead! or pollboy, horse, or whatever floats your boat. i think it'll be called: WA-DRYER. three payments of $599.95! bbbbbbbbbbuuuuuuuuuuuttttt....if you call within the next 30 minutes we'll make one of hte payments for you and we'll throw in this wonderful daily planner where you can plan your boring ass day. operators are standing by.

okay may be not. i wouldn't know the science behind this machine and lack the engineer brain like my friend named, "odd polak". i call him odd polak because polaks are odd people in general. but odd polak is not odd and one of the most normal people i know. so that's what makes him "odd polak." he's probably going to beat me to it and make this machine ten times better than i would. i told him about the wa-dryer already and his excitement seems the brain was exploring its possibilities of being possible. he's smart like that and 'puts his ideas into prespective'

so instead of being a rich inventor i follow in my mother's professional area and teach. i wouldn't teach a real class like math, science or biology. not even photography though that could be fun. instead i'd be the high school gym teacher every kid loves. think about it. the gym teacher has the world figured out. real teachers teach classes, mark work and prepare tests. a gym teacher hands out basketballs and still can say he is a teacher when someone asks. fucking eh. while teachers where something resembling a suit, the gym teacher wears track pants and a sweat shirt sporting your school mascot. and a whistle! teachers carry bags with tests they marked all weekend and have no life. the gym teacher carries a clipboard and watches football on the weekends. college games on saturday and nfl on sunday. fucking eh. i wanna be this guy. my mom is simply burnt out because of her real teaching job and if i am to be a teacher, i want to have it as easy as possible. any job for that matter, i want it as easy as possible. plus the other advantage of being a high school gym teacher: high school girls. the only downside is you can't touch high school girls. well you can, if everyone is good at keeping secrets. career path: done and done.

me and deftone girl were great at creating stories that were based on nothing more than appearance. it was pretty much the only genuine part of this relationship in time of numbness. our stories were rich in imagination and sprinkled with scars of our own personal lives. it's how we learned things about each other. we never talked but knew everything about each other by what we said about others. it felt so beautiful and real to get to genuinely know someone through the most ingenuine way.

we eventually she thought it was best to call it quits because of some stupid reason that doesn't even make sense even today. but which can be interpreted as she got even with the boyfriend and my services weren't needed. ha! served her right because it was me getting all the pleasures of it. i learned more than i needed in these few months than i could in an entire life time. it's nothing can serve the public world any good but my own world is amazingly rich than it was before deftone girl. a few months can make a lifetime of difference.

so the breakup was painless and i was about to bridge the lost year with high school love. in spite of the numbness of the time everything felt somewhat well in how everything was lining itself out. the few months with deftone girl played a large part of not getting back together with high school love. i guess the pot and meaninglessness of deftone girl relationship gave me some spunk. when high school love poured her heart out, i stood firm and did not collapse at the might of the temptation. it was here that i had "wonder years" moment sort of like kevin arnold: it was at this time i learned to be independent. to be barefaced. to take life by the testicles and squeezing without the least bit care of what kind of pain it causes. by breaking her heart i became a man.* manlihood is gained when some one is surrendering their love to you with 100% vulnerability and you take advantage of it. that's manliness. you start to think differently. act differently. talk differently. talk to different people. everything is different when you break the heart of another. it was time i affirmed my manliness.

and what happened after i broke her heart? well, you know the story.

i guess life is like that. everything has its spatial and temporal order and meaning. nothing in your life is nothing. i want you take the time to think of the most mundane detail of your life. it's tonight's exercise and you'll be tested on it next monday. so follow me and think of the nothing in your life. it can be anything really that you find happened for no absolute reason at all. and now think how this knowledge altered your behaviour in the future. see? the absolute nothing was something. it served a greater purpose than you give it credit for. we overlook this all the time and think are behaviour is based on free will of the moment. hardly. the past shapes you. and if you think otherwise, you're still collecting the nothing moments before you make the real choices. then you'll realize the nothingness of the past is making you act the way you are in the present. so think of the nothingness, soak it in and bring it to the forefront and let it be the guide of the day. you will feel differently; better, emancipated, and see a future of choice and ability to deal with it. because the nothing in your life is everything.

*(oh, i did not squeeze anyone's balls if you're curious)

i just scored some sick ass oasis tickets when they roll into town on the 17th of june. i skipped school toget these having learned some online presale mumbo jumbo is taking place this morning. i've always doubted the hype behind internet "pre sales" and and those radio station promo passwords but they appear to have paid off this time. usually presale tickets in a seat venue are bollocks and you got stuck with the smoking section. lady friend of significance's valentine day present has been purchased but she'll be gratified months from now. she's more less a patient soul so these tickets cancel out the need for a dinner or something equally trite come monday evening. i kid i kid.

i hate ticketmaster though in that they have the balls to charge me $3.50 to either mail the tickets through standard mail or if i pick up the tickets the night of the show. the hell is that all about? i guess pearl jam's fight against the man in the 1990s wasn't worth it in that they are charging me to go down there to get my tickets. it's absurd. my favourite added price is of course the vague "convenince" that adds another $12.50 to each ticket. i know a guy that works for ticketmaster and says this fee is the only revenue ticketmaster collects. well that's the company line. according to him this is how the company pays it's employees and maintaints its business. fine, makes sense ticketmaster is a for-profit operation and i can't argue against that. however, their tactics however are awfully greedy. the idea of them collecting such a fee based on one ticket while they control the north american ticketing industry seems a little steep. this fee is based on a ticket to ticket basis, not per order. meaning i order 5 tickets, i'm charged with five service fees while a single person process this order NOT five ticketmaster employees separately. is the system that rigid that their fragile employees, who make not much more than minimum wage, can justify this processing fee? yeah, this isn't revenue but price gouging. in the end, i ended paying over 25% per ticket in additional fees, excluding government taxes.

how is this not a monopoly? the US government can go after microsoft but ticketmaster has strangled the entertainment market with its outrageous price setting. but until people like myself continue adoration for bands like pearl jam who play venues with exclusive ticketmaster contracts, collectively we'll continue to be financially raped. if a band like pearl jam comes to town they have no choice but to play big venues like ontario place and air canada centre because of their demand. surely an intimate show at the horseshoe tavern, kool haus, or the opera house would be a lot more special but too many fans would be shut out if a chance to see the band. you can't blame bands for giving in to ticketmaster when they are trying to reach out to their fans. there would more backlash if a large band abandoned ticketmaster in pursuit of alternative ticketing agencies and small venues. pearl jam tried that in the past and proved to be an utter failure with tour cancellation. they had little choice to come back with ticketmaster if fans are to see the band in large urban centres with sizeable venues. but it doesn't have to be this way folks.

pearl jam's fan club is fantastic in fighting ticketmaster with its own ticketing system for members. us members get dibs on pj tickets shortly after the tour is announced and way before the public uses ticketmaster. bigger bands need to look at the pearl jam model as a way of accomodating their fans. this isn't going to change if the public doesn't revolt the existing system. however like i said, until we continue to dish out tons of money to see our favourite bands, plays, etc; nothing is going to change and further costs will be added. such as ticketmaster charging you to print out the ticket and rumours of them adopting an ebay system of bidding on tickets. if that's the case, yuppies will kill my chances at ever seeing rem again.

the u2 fan club system is a joke in that it guarantees a ticket but not the best tickets as the pricey ones continue to be alloted for ticketmaster. so paying for a u2 fan club membership ensures you'll get fucked over by the band and ticketmaster. if a band like u2 was to adjust its system, the ticket market would actually become a market. people would actually join fan clubs knowing there is a way to combat the ticketmaster machine. bands would establishe their own "monopolies" exclusively for fans. large urban venues would abandon ticketmaster in favour of consumer driven agencies. companies would pop up left and right offering packages best suited for non-fan club members. but this system can't change if the entertainment product does not initiate it.

like that asian kid in school of rock, "stick it to the man!"

a while ago i got home from a lovely evening with lady friend of signifance filled romance to the 10th degree.

i'm watching larry live king and realized next to paris hilton he is the second most useless life form appearing on my television screen too often. the man has no journalistic intreviewee forte at all and his guests are just hypnotized by that raspy voice of is. he used to okay because jon stewart appeared on all time that knows how to make hahaha funny jokes. then larry king laughing at jon stewart's hahahaha funny jokes sounds he swallowed a hairball.

larry king started sucking when 19/20 of his shows become devoted to michael jackson's love of little boys' penises and that peterson murder trial. you know which one i am talking about right? the guy who killed his 8 month pregnant wife. come to think of it scott peterson is 3rd on my list of useless faces on tv. how did this story make the national news? granted. it was a sad story. when i first heard it the thought of female a month away from giving its belly a life and both of them being killed was hard one to swallow. but soon after the coverage of the story led to "wife killed by husband...more at 6 o'clock" fatigue. you could only hear so much about this story and anything related to such a story becomes insignificant. i think king's coverage of the peterson trial and bringing in all those lawyers to talk about all its knitty gritty details is a step back for domestic abuse. now hearing or reading a story about a guy killing his wife is, "fuck! another peterson". larry kind you killed my sympathy for domestic abuse.

tonight king's topic was about some 12-year old who killed his grandparents, burned the house, and blames it on zolofot. how come this story isn't getting the same national scrutiny? the idea of grandparents getting killed in cold blood and diminished to ashes is equally horrifying as the murder of a pregnant mom. sure the unborn child never experienced the world for a single second and you know, that's a shame, but old people life a full life! taking that away seems more costly than the death of an unborn child. experience, wisdom and understanding entrenches the bones the unborn child barely has any bones.

could it be that zolofot is under the large drug company named pfizer? pfizer has its cunt on george dubya's face while the media is diddling dubya's twat. and so the negative studies regarding big named drug products gets undercovered while stories of celebrity molestations and dead unborn kids get a green light. larry king covers the drug story because he's just an idiot that gets an hour of tv time every night. go figure.

this three ring circus helps dictate what gets into your heads via idiot box. this is scary because if the government, media and interest groups are all their little dance around your head you my dear blog reader, you're absolutely at the whelm. the story of the peterson trial also had an underlying meaning. the death of the unborn is commonly referred to in anti-abortionist rhetoric. bush's administration is big throwing its moolahs (money) behind the pro-life picketers. like 9/11 was for bush's presidency saving grace, scott peterson is the poster boy of bush's planned abortion restrictions. this story outraged the nation, "how could anyone kill an unborn?! we must put an end this at once!" and so the anti-abortion movement has its unborn child argument fed through the television to probably every american home in the last twelve. this story even made the "top story" sections of canada's right wing media sources. even the renowed bbc world threw in a few words. you just do not get this kind of publicity. though scott peterson's balls will be eventually be fried i hope one history books will talk about mr. peterson being honored by the anti-abortionists for being their martyr.

then on the other end you have the quiet coverage surrounding drugs and side effects such as urge to kill. though i find the story of someone killing another because of anti-depressants absolutely unfounded, i do feel this story needs a little more attention. the public should know about the ongoing discourse within the medical community regarding mood altering drugs. my skepticism that there is a lack of research to support such extreme side effects. on the other hand, there's been little research into effects on kids such as this 12-year old. it's something that requires obvious attention and get the public in on the discussion.

so why isn't more coverage regarding this particular story? my opinion is that the media isn't willing to go hard out on topics potentially damaging to big business. especially the drug industry and its weight behind the bush administration. you see, canada has cheap knock off brands of same drugs that large corporate firms make. they are sort of like that cheap imitated brand of a certain grocery item. sure the knock off tastes funny but in the end it is all the same. big american drug companies don't like the idea of americans excercising free trade rights when it comes to buying their drugs. so cheap no-name canadian drugs are not so legal south of the border. pfizer, the maker of zolofot, is one of the big american companies. they give lots of money to bush so that he keeps canadian drugs out of american bloodstreams. the media has supported bush's decisions or at least slide his bigger mistakes (ie: no nu-ku-clear weapons in iraq). certainly the media isn't going to look into negativities surrounding bush's bigger funders. that is a no no.

i'm not exactly sure where i am going with the above words but i hope you get my drift on the three degrees of seperations of how our friendly american neighbours are being screwed by three of its more important institutions. i guess this is what happens when politics, business and the media are mixed together. melting pot indeed! and being a somewhat impartial observer of the situation, i feel for my american neighbours. your thoughts are with me.

we need more coverage into legal drugs and side effects. i don't think studies into illegal drugs are necessary. we know their side effects and so that discussion should focus on ways of making these drugs legal. the only odd side effect of illegal drugs is wanting to make the intoxicated blog at 2am about the side effects of zolofot.

for reasons that are quite obvious the first love always lingers on for years and years. even after the inevitable disappointment. it's paint on the heart that takes a while before it starts to wear thin. however it is not always something that is done on its own and requires certain knowledge before one can close the book on the past and i think that news has finally come its way. let me tell you a little story of someone in a previous post i referred to as "high school love."

i met her early in the 10th grade and we were a couple before school broke for the christmas break. to be fair i watched from afar since early grade 9 but never got the courage to utter a single world till she sat behind me in class. only when other classmate was belittling me did she acknowledge my existance. her top quality was without a doubt her looks. i've always been drawn to latin girls and her being half mexican was half good enough for me. her thick and slightly curled black hair matched with those gorgeous chaste brown eyes weakened my knees every single time. her smile made feel as if you were the last person on earth having a way of shutting everything else out. and i fell in love with her every time she laughed.

the relationship started off as any petty high school romance but it didn't take long to learn something different was at hand. first of all. her attentention span towards me lasted for more than 24 hours. which was a relatively new experience for which i wasn't quite equipped for. it felt neat to have someone give you some attention that seemed sincere. real neat.

we carried on for a good while. it had its ups an downs and everything that is expected from being around a dimwit such as myself. but i did my best to make it work because everything about it seemed as if this was the real thing. all the eventual talk about having a boy named "trevor" and growing old together did not seemed only a matter of time. for the first time i appeared to have what the medical community calls self-esteem. it felt good to have that thing around.

things eventually got sour but reverted to a state of denial trying replant to old fond memories of the early days where nothing could be wrong. i was making mistakes left and right but had grown content we'd weather any storm. content is a relationship killer and only should be attempted after 3-4 decades of marriage. trust me kids. take nothing for granted.

one june evening i learn she had slept with another. things got worse when she suspected she might be pregnant. i've never been mad at her until this particular night when and knew it really was over. i vowed to never speak to her again.

few days passed when i called her saying i need to be there for her. though the pain of it was awfully torturous i came back knowing this is where i belonged. the pain of betrayal could not have compared to the pain of losing her. i vowed to find a real job in the summer. make a few dollars and put everything to go towards the child. everyone advised me against it but i learned how much i love her when i was willing to do this.

so i landed a job through my uncle's company working in my home renovation. the money was good. hours were a bitch but at least i'd be supportive of the child that was not to be mine.

after telling her about the job and that things would be okay. i learned the truth. she was not pregnant and in fact never was. i'm still not sure whether she slept with the guy but the story was part of calculated thought out plan to have me out of life. i learned she did not have the galls to break up with me and instead attempted to use hate to drive us apart. on her end the plan had fallen apart as i was in too deep.

apparently her feelings had withered away in the previous weeks and a new fella was in the picture. there was a period in time when i figured this day would eventually come about but two years into the relationship these negativities had run dry. i thought i was the guy she was to grow old with.

the relevation of the fictious plot was too devasting to bear that anyone would steep so low to avoid the person they supposedly love. it was over.

days later i learned her and the new fellow were the couple of the town. i guess the pregnancy story was to serve a purpose of having me never to think about her again. now i had no more of a reason to do so. since then i've accepted her lie as her simply not knowing how to tell me her love had diminished. it made little sense as to why someone would go to such an extend to avoid the truth as it carried such pain and ugliness. she opted for the beautiful lie and maybe attempted to avoid responsibility of it all. she knew i loved her and lack of it was too much to bear.

for a year we maintained no contact what so ever until one night she just happened to unblock me of her chatting service. we exchanged news of daily happenings but tip toed around critical issues of the past. it felt good talking to her again and that connection we've always had never did dimmer away. since then the guy she left me for was long gone and i was still miserable. but getting by. the past pain had become numb and i dragged my feet day to day.

so after several weeks of talking online we finally met in person after what seemed like an eternity apart. she looked as gorgeous as ever and was becoming one of the most stunning woman i've ever laid my eyes on. she still had that distinctively erotic aroma about her and continued to wear the necklace i gave her on our 1st anniversary. and like every night i was endlessly lost in her stunning latin eyes. that night seemed like the outrageous lies and months of devastating pain were all forgotten within an instant. this time i played it smoother and did not offer to get a second job to seek her attention. i already had it right in front me yet again.

next morning i woke up to find a near confessional email in my box of thoughts she was too embarrased to utter in person. her apologetic words spoke our fruitful past and making decisions of grave regret that she cannot undue but only wish to start again. the words were something i thought i'd enjoy reading but were hardly so. despite it being the loniest year of my life i could not reverse the last 12 months and jump into the mess again. politely i responded that it just was not to be and hoped a friendship would be a suitable alternative.

after taking a year off after high school she moved out to vancouver to study at ubc. the word is she wanted to major in psychology to figure out why am i such a head case. my school has one of the finest psychology departments in the country but i guess that needs to be done time zones away when you're training is based on an individual case. i didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered but happy to known that my mental instability is the root of someone's calling. the news that filters ever so often is that she is doing really well and rumour has it engaged.

few nights ago the rumours of her engagement were no more when someone told me that she had gotten married. the news didn't register at that moment as i had consumed a ridiculous amount of drugs less than two hours before the news was dropped on my lap. for whatever reason i did not question anything about the service. whether there was one or not. what was the circumstance of the marriage and whether there was one. and why am i learning about this weeks after the event. maybe it was the drugs acting as an obstacle in the way of knowledge but i know nothing other than her being married. but over the previous 72 hours i given this serious sober thoughts and the information certainly is sobering. and it hurts. a bad hang over.

i've dug out the old box of past memories. in the box are the remaining physical contents of what was supposed to be the rest of my life; love letters, poetry, photos, ticket stubs to anything and everything we went, terrible love song cd mixes, petty purchases we made together. a time capsule of an emotional investment that is no more. there was a time that i looked through its contents on a daily basis but this was the first time in a while i dug in there. part of it had to do with avoidance and deep desire not to brood to the past. this time it proved to be overwhelming to do otherwise.

part of the pain stems from the fact the past is what is; the past. the open-ended possibilities have closed off. if the rumours are true attempting to pursue this relationships glides into aduterous territory. apparently this is a big no no. there no longer is the need for reflecting on past mistakes and "what if" situations had i taken up on her offer to rekindle the relationship. she is someone's wife and not the wife of the person i had envisioned just a few years ago. and that is the core of the pain; the dream is over. though it was just a dream, the innonce and idealist predictions of it spoke of a fruitful future. and maybe that's why it's so hard to just brush it off because it seemed as if everything was going to be easy and obvious. what hurts as well is that i got no word from her that she's getting married. maybe telling ex-boyfriends that you are getting married isn't a requirement but would have made it easier than hearing it from an old acquaintance passing by.

what is more so is that i've met her then-to-be husband and despite his intimidating physical stature and probable ability to toss me like a rag doll. i stood my ground because i continued to hold the balance of power. he knew that and did his best to shut me out of her life when i tried to pursue a friendship. his lack of confidence was painted on his face and diverted his attention to screening who high school love can be friends with. she told me all this days before leaving for vancouver. he didn't like me at all because he assumed at any point that if i wanted i could have her back and it was just a matter of willingness on my part. when she told me this i pondered whether she shared the same thoughts. she spilled everything and her agony told me she was in love with him but could not bare his insecurities. it was at this time that my part was to become the wedge knowing her that is what she wanted but i need to be the better person. i couldn't get involved because i didn't want do anymore. i just wanted it to end. and really this exchange signalled the beginning of the end.

when she left for the west coast he followed her shortly after. he figured i wouldn't go so he would show her that he can make the big sacrifice in the pursuit of love. maybe he's the better person as a result. i suppose maybe that is what she's looking for in a spouse; someone that can pack his life into a suitcase and blindly follow wherever she goes. the fact is he had nothing riding for him here and so moving may not have been such a bad idea. i didn't do anything about it because attempting to get involved at this point would be selfish. i was tired of doing of feeling as if i am the third wheel when all i wanted was friendship. obviously the boyfriend had something against that as he continued to shut me out of her even if she is on the side of the country. and to be fair i had more lose if i was the one heading to vancouver. i sent an email here and there to check in with her but whenever she hopped on the internet to talk, she said she never got it. he was up to his old ways and i can't but laugh that is insecure man today is someone's husband. i gave up on it all together and for the past year have relied on news filtering in from people we both know. why she didn't bother looking me up to give me the news first-hand, i don't know. either she thought i wouldn't care, she no longer cares or the news would devaste me. it's probably none of these but i attempt to find out. i want to know how they are getting by as well. it's difficult to wrap to my mind around the idea of young 20-something year olds running off and getting hitched. certainly the husband never had post-secondary school aspirations so hopefully at least he's supporting her.

there is a temptation to call up her mother and maybe get a phone contact as emailing high school love has proven to be ineffective. her mom always liked me so she would probably shed some light on the situation as well. i can't have full closure with all these unanswered questions streaking through my mind. though conventional wisdom suggests closure is just a matter of time.

all the best trishie trisha patricia.

trying to point our physical flaws is like shooting fish in a barrel. there is no craft or effort needed to criticize ourselves or others based on outer appearance. besides it is too subjective and leads to endless amounts of slippery slopes when dealing with such an aspect of any person for that matter. character flaws require a lot more skill because as the saying goes, you can't judge a book by its cover. and before we go off pointing out the flaws in others we have to come to terms with our own and why we do the things that we do. people who are disliked because of their "i can do no wrong" attitudes haven't taken the time to look inside them and realize their self-proclaimed perfection is a distored view of a deeply troubled mind.

i've never had trouble with making me flaws widely known. i thrive on self-depreciation in hopes of objection but no one objects because they know i am speaking the truth. the current task is uncovering why it is that i do what i do to people and where it stems from. in my brief stint in poland this summer i got meet my grandparents. the parents of my father. i found them to be a pecular in couple in that they have been married for nearly 60 years and half a century have lived completely seperate lives.

i learned that on the farm they have their own money hiding spots. they grow their own separate crops and vegetables. buy their own food. make food exclusively for themselves. have their own dishware and their fridge is divided into two sections: his and hers. the only thing they share is the house. they've done this for decades and obviously my father grew up in this household. apparently this began with some fight and has continued so forth. just plain stubborness on both of their parts and coming from culture where couples coming apart is taboo they have continued their marriage. this knowledge proved to be revealing because i see what kind of effect this had on my father.

if my parents fight over the stupidest things my father can stay silent for weeks and even months. he won't say a word to my mother and sort of act in ways akin to his parents. he'll buy his own food. prepare his own dinner. do his own thing completely and utterly. there was a time my mother used to attempt to make him come around but nothing materialized largely due to dad's full out stubborness. she's given up trying to get him out of his silence phases and goes along with it till the point he comes around. ultimately dad's a type of breed where stubborness can carry on for decades but probably thinking of his own parents he comes around. and mom knows this. each generation is better than the next and that dad will utimately breaks his vow of silence. this can be rather problematic however being a child in such a family where one parent is almost creating a wedge and forcing the kids to take sides. i talk to my dad i think what mom thinks of that and whether i am upsetting her. and vice versa.

but the vow of silence is something i am all to familiar with as this character flaws slips into my own behaviour. i used to think silence ultimately makes others come around to your side. sympathize with you. understand you. but four out of five times people are deeply rooted within their own troubles to give much attention to you. so i would hold grudges for weeks on time without the other party knowing what it is that i am exactly holding out about. this can problematic and make others less willing to come forward. it's a stupid tactic but i had faith in it until i realized what preluded within my own family. i'm learning to change my ways while i can knowing what sort of shit stubborness has created. i wouldn't want my kids growing up in a home like the one i am in just because someone is using silence for attention. i've learned this behaviour from dad just as he learned it from his parents. having first hand experience of these two families i have a chance to break the cycle and it's time that i do. thinking of the past how i've used this to gain an advantage and instead faced destructive results it's silly to think i can succeed with this the way those before me have failed and fail to notice the mess they've created along the way.