Monday, April 16, 2007

Sweet Dreams

It almost seems like a cruel joke that I chose yesterday, for the first time, to post on a weekend and do a bit of personal reflection and disregard the news from around the world. I reflected mostly on my life within school and what will happen when I leave, and sure, reading it now I find an undertone of having had extreme good fortune and perhaps not recognizing it. I don't consider myself, I think, one of those people who simply cannot recognize the good in their life. I know I do and I know that I have been extremely fortunate.

But, perhaps paradoxically, the edges become sharper and the lines more clearly defined as time passes. You've probably all heard the news of the school killings coming out of Virginia today, and I'll try my best not to write on it too extensively. It doesn't do any good to rehash the obvious when I'm sure everyone can agree that it's a horrible situation.

Events like this probably do, and should, make us feel fortunate. Just yesterday I expressed my dismay at the confusion surrounding my future, and here, 33 people have had their futures snatched away from them doing the exact same thing I've been doing for so long now - creating choices through education. I ended yesterday's post with a fairly glib comment, something about pushing all the negative shit away and reflecting that things will roll on more or less as they should. And though it may seem irresponsible to say that now, I still believe it.

I've had more than a few friends express to me today their disgust and horror at what happens in the world - an understandable and admirable observation. It shows that these people are moral and emotional people who do not let life fall lightly upon them without leaving an impression.

But a deeper part of me despairs any lasting feelings some may hold regarding the "futile" nature of everything. I'm naturally an anxious person, and over the past few years I've committed myself to not letting things bother me as much as they used to, and though this is no laughing matter, I still believe that looking forward is the best policy one can have (while, of course, keeping an eye trained over the shoulder). I'd like to encourage those who have been shocked and saddened by today's events to keep that in mind too. I don't think they need my warnings anyway - most people I know are quite good at keeping their chins up.

Just before I wrap up my philosophical waxing, I'll make a small note, something that Kari mentioned in her blog a little while ago about the gruesome and often depressing news that dominates journalism. It's my belief that this is simply the way journalism is, and it does not reflect anything sadistic about the human race, any bloodlust that is somehow inherent. I do not think, by nature, that the news is full of bad tidings simply because that is what is entertaining.

We must keep in the mind that the news is a system that is essentially the never-ending catalogue of our times. It sustains itself by never reaching an end. Good news, stories that make one cheerful, are good news mainly because they have ENDINGS. A little old lady wins the lottery and she can now get that hip replacement; a small child is rescued from a flood and can now go on to lead a happy, full life; a food shipment finally gets to starving refugees somewhere in Cambodia, and they can carry on now.

Bad news, on the other hand, is the killing of the dragon before we can get to the damsel. It's the conflict, and nobody has ever read a bedtime story that began with walking out the front door and ended two pages later with the hero getting his just rewards. Something must happen. It's more than simply satiating the masses their need for death and mayhem.

That being said, I was forced to come across a number of awful stories in the news that have been sidelines by the Virginia case in my attempt to find this for anyone who's interested. It's a bit of good news for you: a story about chocolate farmers in a remote Mayan community that are making a well-deserved dollar for honest work. It's a great article and it may lift the mood a bit.

My thoughts and prayers go out to those in Virginia.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

All Quiet on the Weekend Front

No news today. Go back to bed; everything is ok. It's just Sunday, son.

Actually, I'm sure there is news, I just haven't bothered to check yet. Somehow I've managed to avoid all my primary news aggregators in favour of just drinking a cup of coffee and going over a bit of sleepy political commentary and my friends' blogs.

It's a Sunday, but it doesn't really feel like a Sunday, not yet. Yesterday, the day of the Postmodernist Literature exam, was the worst case of mistaken identity for a weekday I've ever experienced - rather than feel like the beginning of a weekend I thought we were smack-dab in middle of a busy school week.

Of course confusing a weekday with another is only ever a small step away from the moment you realize that time is slipping by pretty quickly. I'm reaching the end of my third year of university, with less than a week to go until I jet back to dear old Aurora and my dear old summer job. This leaves me one full year left at Brock, assuming I can fulfill all the required credits and get into a decent post-grad school once I finish.

And I'm still only 20. I dislike facing the fact of my youth sometimes, especially when so many of my friends are older than I am. The joy of university, and I'm sure I'm not the only person to have found this, is that age is no longer as powerful an identifier as it once was. Of course, there are a number of aspects of university that set it apart from where we've been before. By the time I graduate, I'll be a middle-aged 21. Which, I guess, is only young comparitively speaking. 50 years ago I would have been making plans to get married in a year or two, have myself set up with a job.

None of this is really new. It's a favourite discussion amoungst all my friends because I think it's a universal worry. If not a worry, at least a universal tickling-thought that never quite goes away. We're concerned with having the next step planned, and although our world is much more flexible than it used to be, the nerve to toy with that flexibility, I think, has weakened.

Now I'm starting to get all self-reflective and I don't want that. Bring it back.

A big thank you, by the way, to everyone who came out for the Thai dinner last night. I'm sorry that we missed a few of our other classmates and friends, but it's to be expected at such a busy time of the year. You missed some delicious Gang Dang Chicken though, I'll have you know.

The word on the grapevine is also that there may be a Writer's Guild starting up? I like this idea as much as I fear it. I will say, though, that I would probably not shy away from sharing anything I write with the friends that I've made here, which is a pretty big deal considering how short a time I've really been good friends with everyone. I often get prickly when it comes to accepting even the slightest constructive criticism and I need to stop. I have a few poems that I could share, and I need to finish at least one short story by New Years. My problem is that I have trouble thinking in narrative arcs. I would even considering posting a few of the poems here but I'm not sure it would fit the tone of the blog. Don't even mention the Facebook-posting option.

So that's me today. It's a quiet Sunday, son, and I've been left alone with my thoughts. Only one of my housemates is awake and he pretty much keeps to himself. I can hear him banging around in the hall and listening to his daily dose of hip-hop. I'll read over my African History notes once and then probably start to think about refilling my coffee cup. Maybe I'll even go for a run, if my iPod batteries aren't dead yet. Oh yeah, and it's my sister's 18th birthday. I need to call her, then call HMV to see if her CD has come in yet. My copy of Dubliners that I bought with Kari on our used book-shopping day is staring me in the face, because it just seems so perfect for a Sunday morning (and it would be if I didn't have to study).

Of course the tease of it all is that the summer months are perfect for this kind of mellowing out, but I always get bored so quickly when I'm in Aurora. I love my days off but I can never find anything to do with them.

At least in St. Catharines, there are always notes to go over.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Dropping the ball.

So here I am, innocently thinking today was Saturday for some reason, and that the blog could wait for the weekend. Turns out the news stops for no man, and I've dug up a testicle-curdling little snippet of news for the men of the world:

Apparently men may no longer be needed to produce sperm, and there goes our role in child-making, should society deem it necessary. Kind of shady thinking, but the prospect is there. Have a look, and carry on.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

If you looked up anticlimactic in the dictionary...

Thus, with a quiet whimper, does the political life of Belinda Stronach crawl to an end. The Canadian MP for the Newmarket/Aurora riding of Ontario (and I do not pretend to write this with an unbiased mind, seeing as how that is MY hometown riding) announced recently that she is planning not to renew her bid for her position.

Her new position, nestled comfortably at Dad's ultra-suede knee, is as an Executive Vice-Chair of Magna International Inc, presumably at its headquarters in Aurora. The motivation for her decision? Well, I'm sure it was entirely unmotivated by the cushy position, the weak Liberal standing in Canadian politics (rendering her all but useless), and the air of scandal that just never seemed to leave the poor woman alone.

Good riddance I say. Floor crossers irritate me regardless of the party they choose to affiliate themselves with, and she stole the Conservative vote away from those in her riding who voted for the Party (although sure she'd just as soon prefer to believe that they were voting for her strength of character).

For a little self-indulgence, I'll get all pompous-English on you an toss out a quote from the great Mark Twain, who could insult with the precision of a surgical laser:

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Three Strikes

I've made a horrible error in self-assessment: apparently I thought I could keep up a daily blog of entries even during final essay/exam/Easter season. Silly me. I wouldn't be surprised either, dear friends, if this were to occur again.

In light of my misdeeds, I offer you a veritable plethora of news items from around the world (ok, mostly North America, I can't hide my bias) as food for your mental hunger.

FIRST! This recently from Slate.com, just another example of the ever-burgeoning YOUistic trend of the current social scene - if anything is to be sold, it must be personalized and have the impression of being immaculately tailored to suit one's needs. iPod, XM Radio, Facebook, car packages, clothing, travel options, etc etc etc. Christopher Hitchens has written an article on this somewhere on the internet; seek it out if you'd like his take.

What I'm talking about is Twitter, the new website that allows, simply, one to log in an update the rest of the world on exactly what they're doing at that moment. It's a kind of real-time snapshot of daily life. Click here to have a look.

SECOND! This is from last week and YahooNews. The US Marine Corp has recently announced that they are putting a ban on all visible tattooing of their soliders, with specific attention to forearm and calf tattoos. Being a fan of tattooing of all kinds, and having a general interest in the subject at large, I find this to be particularly interesting. Time was when body decoration amoung a society's "warriors" was common, even expected (see the woad-painted soldiers of Braveheart, or the tribal tattooing of the Maori people). Even Roman soliders were known to dye their hair different colours and spike it to make them seem more imposing.

The mentality behind the tattoo snafu is that the images could be considered unappealing and unprofessional when seen on a figure as highly regarded as a US Marine. I find this logic to be a tad faulty, especially considering that the Marines are supposed to be men and women who are independant of every authority except that of their commanding officers. I would think that tattooing would be accepted simply as a form of pride in the work that a Marine does. Anyway, check out the article and decide for yourself.

THIRD! And final thought of the day. The New York Times has decided that they bogeyman of global warming is not only the next great devastation to be visited upon us sinners in the Western world, but that the poor innocents of the underdeveloped world will bear the brunt of our reckless disregard for the environment.

Apparently, third-world nations such as those found in Africa will have to neogtiate the worst of the inevitable global warming trend as their crops continue to dry at a much faster pace, and their water supply becomes increasingly unstable.

Funny though...I thought those countries had, for the most part, always suffered from unstable crop production and scarce water supplies. The countries that the Times cites as the most threatened are located around the most traditionally infertile areas of the African continent, namely the Sahara where they experience only two seasons as opposed to our four: the wet season, and the dry season.

I don't mean to sound callous, but the current science has pegged global warming as being responsible for an overall rise in tempterature of little more than a single degree in the last 150 years. From my knowledge of Africa thus far, drought and poor crop yields have been a constant of African society for the last 1000 years at least. What people never seem to give the average African (or, really, the average human being) credit for is the ability to adapt. To think that we in the West are exacerbating the declining condition of the African citizen because of our inability to further invest in ethanol is ridiculous, and clearly biased journalism.

I offer you the full article here but I'm not sure if you'll be able to access it without being a paid subscriber. Give it a shot.

Cheers all.

Sunday, April 1, 2007

Please, to be 'splaining

To a few of my more culturally-aware friends...I too am vexed concerning the use of a 12 hours piece of music that is nothing more than a few notes repeated 840 times. Apparently the inspiration for Warhol's infamous Sleep film, the 12-hour musical piece Vexations will be played live in London very soon.

Is it post-modernism? The throws of the Modernist movement perhaps? Had I payed more attention in class maybe I could answer myself. (Or maybe if it had something to do with post-colonialism I could figure it out. But wait...I didn't pay attention in that class anyway.)

A brief blog on the topic can be found here.

Happy essaying, dear friends.