an open letter to the producers of "The Day The Earth Stood Still.":
I want my money back.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
The stars were amazing, even trapped between soft seats and stiffs. I smoked too much this weekend, and my throat is taking revenge on the rest of my body. A work party, an open bar and a city wide trek amounted in a blurred flash of events. Old friends, angry douchebags and a lot of terrible weather. From the snow and ice to the rainy thaw this is a reflection of my soul's current outpost. Graffiti, fresh on a newly installed bench and the same tags litter the neighborhood. What is new, what is new? This is all so desolate. blaaahh. work comes to early on a Monday. see you then.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
graffiti on the city pt II
I found a face on the subway bench. Three sets of eyes two lips and a message: 'love is the hardest thing to give'
Tags could be subverted politically, could they? The act of tagging represents a reflection on the state of the public, exploitation of our sphere, and an attempt - if shallow - to reclaim what we can. A protest. There stands a wall between the fried chicken spot and the coin-op laundry mat. It serves as a message board for local writers. Down the street a tunnel is consumed with a one sided defaced mural, hideous, heinous and just spewing with distaste. Do these murals represent a decay any less than the tags we so loathe? (Read: royal we) if I had a can of paint large enough I'd envelop the whole city in a colourful blanket, the sameness would demand change...this is the same sameness we face now, only we ignore it - disguised indifference and as diverse as my shoes left from right.
Tags could be subverted politically, could they? The act of tagging represents a reflection on the state of the public, exploitation of our sphere, and an attempt - if shallow - to reclaim what we can. A protest. There stands a wall between the fried chicken spot and the coin-op laundry mat. It serves as a message board for local writers. Down the street a tunnel is consumed with a one sided defaced mural, hideous, heinous and just spewing with distaste. Do these murals represent a decay any less than the tags we so loathe? (Read: royal we) if I had a can of paint large enough I'd envelop the whole city in a colourful blanket, the sameness would demand change...this is the same sameness we face now, only we ignore it - disguised indifference and as diverse as my shoes left from right.
musing, exams and wintersleep; the killer.
i believe in privacy over invasion
and reconciliation over war.
is tagging just a fetishized act of anarchy? is it a means or an end? as an end it is meaningless, but meaninglessness with the power and potential to remediate, to address and to shape new opinions translated into policy.
it is there, if we want it.
and reconciliation over war.
is tagging just a fetishized act of anarchy? is it a means or an end? as an end it is meaningless, but meaninglessness with the power and potential to remediate, to address and to shape new opinions translated into policy.
it is there, if we want it.
Monday, December 1, 2008
graffiti tripping part I
Took a trip down Queen with Natalie. She needed fabric and I figured since I'm way behind on my documentation it would be a good idea to tag along with my camera lens. (just the lens, no body - that's how I work now...) I had tripped along Yonge and Bay the other day. Ron wanted to find a bookstore...any store with old pages and some new ideas. The spots we're sparse. Mucho tagging, little more. I caught a few decent shots but I made the mistake of bringing my 50mm fixed lens and no alternative. The challenge of capturing street housed tags on busy streets proved to be near life threatening. No consistency. This city lacks one voice, or I the eye to notice it. May be a good thing - diversity IS the culture around here. LSD is rampant, GH tenacious and a few others are exceedingly pervasive. I definitely need to get out more than I intend to over the next unpredictably weathered months.
There is a face that is creeping its way across the city - and though sharing all the characteristics of a bombed tag it is strikingly refreshing. And if so, the sunshine wink around the Queen+Spadina area is of the same vein. I'm bored with most of the letter-based murals I see around the city, and quite personally I enjoy more of the abstract work. I can dig some of the funky lettering, but really...it's 2008...lets see some branching out. Ha. The stretch of the city I hit today, referred to as 'graffiti alley,' is a labyrinth of back alleys below Queen, above Richmond and between Spadina in the East and Bathurst in the West. The asphalt throughout is soaked in excess paint, trail off from the layers and layers of murals, tags and bugged out artwork. Signs advocate contributions with the slogan 'artists welcome.' They don't specify any restrictions, and the term is stretched by those who partake. Do they mean anyone? Do they wish 'real' art to grace their walls? Who are they anyway? The beauty is in the diversity. The lack of restrictions open these vast canvases to the public at large. A direct and tangible piece of the public sphere. Does this permission change the meaning? Is this a practice arena for 'real' pieces? What the fuck do I mean by 'real' anyway? Some areas are bombed beyond recognition - "is that a door?" - while others are combination of beautiful pieces, characters blended with new techniques and animated creatures. (not that the bombing isn't beautiful in its own right -- the release, the unbound human expression the explosion of a multitude of personalities styles and states of mind layered one after the other creating an organic surface with a hundred voices all at once.) This open concept gallery provides a stomping ground for the cities off-radar artistes. Collaborations are merged, graffiti handshakes are exchanged. props given where due. The work stands unchallenged and a community sprouts outward. If this was the only area where the art was happening that would be a travesty; but its a launching pad, a source of inspiration...nothing lasts forever, but this pseudo heritage site stands as a place it is safeguarded from the battle grounds external. No cops or commissioned whitewashers here. It is breathing room. ahh. take it in.
By no means does this stage house the city's most captivating, or the epitome of the best cultural rebel works. This is merely a yard sale, for the Macy's one has to leave the comfort of a dingy, garbage lined back alley and step in the direction of the people...the few that cruise through here after all, are residents and workers who have no choice, some lost souls, junkies and of course the artists themselves. For the graffiti artists ouvre you've got to have open eyes and just take a walk through the most public or private of areas. Graffiti is a statement? Graffiti is a conversation? Is it? Well it can only work on both of these fronts if it has someone to read, to interpret to consume the texts they colour the landscape with. Look high look low, look in places you wouldn't expect. Find a pattern. Join a conversation. Think out loud, in colour. Take a trip and look outside the expectations. Over the next couple of months I will interpret, discover and uncover. How does graffiti serve the public sphere? Colour stains and repetition don't do a damn thing without understanding. Square pusher once said in an interview that to be fresh one must "have the right references to be understood, but the right changes to be relevant" (im paraphrasing) and though he was speaking about music, the underground art scene stands on a similar plane. The tools may change, the styles may change, but you gotta keep it fresh, keep the attack alive, and never say die. Unbridled passion doesn't have a price tag. Whoever said 'never work for free' was on the level, but cash isn't the only way to get paid....
continued in part II
There is a face that is creeping its way across the city - and though sharing all the characteristics of a bombed tag it is strikingly refreshing. And if so, the sunshine wink around the Queen+Spadina area is of the same vein. I'm bored with most of the letter-based murals I see around the city, and quite personally I enjoy more of the abstract work. I can dig some of the funky lettering, but really...it's 2008...lets see some branching out. Ha. The stretch of the city I hit today, referred to as 'graffiti alley,' is a labyrinth of back alleys below Queen, above Richmond and between Spadina in the East and Bathurst in the West. The asphalt throughout is soaked in excess paint, trail off from the layers and layers of murals, tags and bugged out artwork. Signs advocate contributions with the slogan 'artists welcome.' They don't specify any restrictions, and the term is stretched by those who partake. Do they mean anyone? Do they wish 'real' art to grace their walls? Who are they anyway? The beauty is in the diversity. The lack of restrictions open these vast canvases to the public at large. A direct and tangible piece of the public sphere. Does this permission change the meaning? Is this a practice arena for 'real' pieces? What the fuck do I mean by 'real' anyway? Some areas are bombed beyond recognition - "is that a door?" - while others are combination of beautiful pieces, characters blended with new techniques and animated creatures. (not that the bombing isn't beautiful in its own right -- the release, the unbound human expression the explosion of a multitude of personalities styles and states of mind layered one after the other creating an organic surface with a hundred voices all at once.) This open concept gallery provides a stomping ground for the cities off-radar artistes. Collaborations are merged, graffiti handshakes are exchanged. props given where due. The work stands unchallenged and a community sprouts outward. If this was the only area where the art was happening that would be a travesty; but its a launching pad, a source of inspiration...nothing lasts forever, but this pseudo heritage site stands as a place it is safeguarded from the battle grounds external. No cops or commissioned whitewashers here. It is breathing room. ahh. take it in.
By no means does this stage house the city's most captivating, or the epitome of the best cultural rebel works. This is merely a yard sale, for the Macy's one has to leave the comfort of a dingy, garbage lined back alley and step in the direction of the people...the few that cruise through here after all, are residents and workers who have no choice, some lost souls, junkies and of course the artists themselves. For the graffiti artists ouvre you've got to have open eyes and just take a walk through the most public or private of areas. Graffiti is a statement? Graffiti is a conversation? Is it? Well it can only work on both of these fronts if it has someone to read, to interpret to consume the texts they colour the landscape with. Look high look low, look in places you wouldn't expect. Find a pattern. Join a conversation. Think out loud, in colour. Take a trip and look outside the expectations. Over the next couple of months I will interpret, discover and uncover. How does graffiti serve the public sphere? Colour stains and repetition don't do a damn thing without understanding. Square pusher once said in an interview that to be fresh one must "have the right references to be understood, but the right changes to be relevant" (im paraphrasing) and though he was speaking about music, the underground art scene stands on a similar plane. The tools may change, the styles may change, but you gotta keep it fresh, keep the attack alive, and never say die. Unbridled passion doesn't have a price tag. Whoever said 'never work for free' was on the level, but cash isn't the only way to get paid....
continued in part II
notes played; along the soul; fought my demons; seen it all
this is a random collection of photographs.
blinded eyed ending;
climactic graveyard scene
filled with scrap remains
the grass between
the cloud, the ground
broken dreams
torrid milked crowds
dreams written across
the blanketed root
liberating concrete canvas
word stain on outlaw marquee
coldness only took
the tree lined
blanketed smooth
ocean drifts
the coastline
curtains shake
the storm breaks
soaked black like
sidewalks
and sharp like haggard edges
we're out
tonight
spent twice
the lion's brood
these drops
black gold
reigning from
and moving
the dark
blue striped gray sprawl
across white feathered
pink and green lined parallel
silver carrying the motive
through the iris and
halogen dreams trail your spine
while tears stream the window
from tires bleeding the city dry
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
oil, greed and dirty money
here is a man who kills your children with his greed
The Yes Men made their way to Alberta today to sabotage a meeting of the biggest in the black gold game. In the wake of the terrorist attacks on India - attacks costing 101 lives and disrupting thousands more - these corporate thugs met to discuss ways to continue turning profits and how to silence their opposition. While the terrorists who caused massive horror in India are being hunted by the police and the military powers of the world, these boardroom terrorists are relaxing in hot tubs and smoking illegal cigars...the whole thing makes me sick.
XOM - Exxon Mobil Corporation (NYSE)
80.89 +2.78 (3.56%) 26 Nov 4:02pm ET
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DALLAS -- Rex Tillerson, chairman and chief executive of Exxon Mobil Corp., the world's largest oil-and-gas company, came out swinging Wednesday against the environmental movement, arguing the science of climate change is far from settled and that his company views it as its "corporate social responsibility" to continue to supply the world with fossil fuels.
Speaking to reporters after the annual meeting of shareholders, at which much-publicized proposals by the Rockefeller family calling for new investment in renewable energy received little support, Mr. Tillerson also said he expects little delay in the $8-billion Kearl oilsands project in Alberta, after a court challenge by environmental organizations this month resulted in the withdrawal of a key federal permit, halting important work.
read the full article, as rough as the post can be to read - they know the score on this one.
Canada's oil sands, along with "liquid coal," are keystones of Bush's Energy Security plan. Mining the oil sands is one of the dirtiest forms of oil production and has turned Canada into one of the world's worst carbon emitters. The production of "liquid coal" has twice the carbon footprint as that of ordinary gasoline. Such technologies increase the likelihood of massive climate catastrophes that will condemn to death untold millions of people, mainly poor.
"If our idea of energy security is to increase the chances of climate calamity, we have a very funny sense of what security really is," Bonanno said. "While ExxonMobil continues to post record profits, they use their money to persuade governments to do nothing about climate change. This is a crime against humanity."
"Putting the former Exxon CEO in charge of the NPC, and soliciting his advice on our energy future, is like putting the wolf in charge of the flock," said "Shepard Wolff" (Bichlbaum). "Exxon has done more damage to the environment and to our chances of survival than any other company on earth. Why should we let them determine our future?"
check out the Yes Men if you don't already know. And please read the full story
i fight the machine with every breath.
It occurred to me today that my favourite apocalyptic vision of the future may not be far off. The US Military is considering the use of AI in the robotic soldiers - soldiers which will be 'programmed' to identify between right and wrong and deemed 'morally superior' to us, the human counterparts - of tomorrow. Well it's been nice, but we're all fucked like dolphins caught in the (sky)net...the difference being dolphins actually fight for their survival. Oh the bitter pill that is complacency....
read the
Times article and think about this. for the love of god think about this....
a modest proposal
Picture this...
Sitting in an urban borough, one can look out into the night and witness a world of activity. There is perhaps more energy in the scene viewed than exhibited in the same space during the daylight hours. To be certain, even on the coldest midnights, and even in the most dangerous streets taggers, political artists or vandals - depending on your own lineage – are hard at work. They illuminate hypocrisy, condemn corporate whoring, tell jokes and colour landscapes. These are the contemporary avant-gardes. With new technologies and techno-literacy growing faster than conventional literacy we are seeing a dramatic shift in the way these underground artists communicate. Is there such thing as globalized style? First one must consider if there is a standard form of graffiti at all. As one of the most diverse tangible forms of artistic expression, this political act is marked by a vast array of styles, uses and appropriations. Is this act a step in the move towards a new universal language and its fragmentation a rejection of the technological convergence in the same direction? I believe that graffiti is a departure from what I describe as upper case Art, something that has degenerated to a thin abstraction of disinterest and capital gain. At times it is represented by hate, qualified by misunderstanding and presented as teenage angst manifested on the walls of the public domain. However even these, albeit premature, rejections of the dominant state of affairs is something to be considered. Graffiti, even on the lowest level may house subtle nuances of oppression to extremely politicized arguments – and this high/low distinction perhaps has no place in quantifying this form.
Jumping Imagined Borders
Graffiti works across and against nation states, tearing away the mask of the concept itself and those who represent it. It gives legitimacy and recognition to groups and cultures washed over by imagined borders who form pockets of breath in each community. Graffiti helps to subvert the restrictions of nationalism and subverts the entire notion. From the earliest days of graffiti etched into the walls of the roman Pantheon to the modern streets of Toronto these activists, artists and freethinkers have etched out their own communities. Communities that know no geographical boundaries, for one traveling through the streets of London may recognize a style or signature that they had passed by in the West Bank. There are two reasons this phenomenon may occur (1) certain styles resonate worldwide; and (2) artists and peoples will relocate themselves to cover endless ground or announce their presence as fluid.
Communities Represent
As older technologies trickled down to the masses, and cultural forms disseminated into the favela there was a cross-pollination. It would be naive to assume that graffiti is a western thing, and that subordinate cultures picked up what our street legends began. However there was definitely an influence. C. Best describes how graffiti in the Caribbean was heavily developed in response to the struggling conditions of the people, but was impacted by the exposure to North American styles and forms. It is interesting to see how graffiti is used as a political tool in many countries around the world, and Best delivers an analysis of this South American style beyond its aesthetic features. […]
Transnational in style and technique, this lower case art is spread through diasporas, creolized and developed across borders. One of the strongest voices of the creolization movement has been Ulf Hannerz who discuses the counter-currents of culture blending in with the waves of globalization. This natural blending generates a birth of new styles without claim to region or nation, but to a mindset, a universal collective.
The Styling on the Wall
The written word has long been a strong tool of integration proliferation and the development of nations. When Guttenburg invented the printing press it gave birth to a revolution not only of knowledge for the common man, but for the spreading of ideas, of culture. Interestingly enough the press, first used for the spread of one dominant religious teaching, quickly gave way to the development of not only other dogmatic ambitions, but also pockets of dissent. Transient ideas, local concepts, and individual freedoms became widespread as people shared their own views through this new medium, through this common technology of the printed word. As literacy grew, so too did criticisms of the dominant culture. Not because the proletariat freshly began to develop dissenting and critical views, but that they finally had a way to communicate them. Indeed the spread of literacy aided the spread of culture, the ability to pass on, to share and to develop, but it also aided in a new form of this critique, one not bound by structure, by bourgeois policy or by dogmatic principle.
Sitting in an urban borough, one can look out into the night and witness a world of activity. There is perhaps more energy in the scene viewed than exhibited in the same space during the daylight hours. To be certain, even on the coldest midnights, and even in the most dangerous streets taggers, political artists or vandals - depending on your own lineage – are hard at work. They illuminate hypocrisy, condemn corporate whoring, tell jokes and colour landscapes. These are the contemporary avant-gardes. With new technologies and techno-literacy growing faster than conventional literacy we are seeing a dramatic shift in the way these underground artists communicate. Is there such thing as globalized style? First one must consider if there is a standard form of graffiti at all. As one of the most diverse tangible forms of artistic expression, this political act is marked by a vast array of styles, uses and appropriations. Is this act a step in the move towards a new universal language and its fragmentation a rejection of the technological convergence in the same direction? I believe that graffiti is a departure from what I describe as upper case Art, something that has degenerated to a thin abstraction of disinterest and capital gain. At times it is represented by hate, qualified by misunderstanding and presented as teenage angst manifested on the walls of the public domain. However even these, albeit premature, rejections of the dominant state of affairs is something to be considered. Graffiti, even on the lowest level may house subtle nuances of oppression to extremely politicized arguments – and this high/low distinction perhaps has no place in quantifying this form.
Jumping Imagined Borders
Graffiti works across and against nation states, tearing away the mask of the concept itself and those who represent it. It gives legitimacy and recognition to groups and cultures washed over by imagined borders who form pockets of breath in each community. Graffiti helps to subvert the restrictions of nationalism and subverts the entire notion. From the earliest days of graffiti etched into the walls of the roman Pantheon to the modern streets of Toronto these activists, artists and freethinkers have etched out their own communities. Communities that know no geographical boundaries, for one traveling through the streets of London may recognize a style or signature that they had passed by in the West Bank. There are two reasons this phenomenon may occur (1) certain styles resonate worldwide; and (2) artists and peoples will relocate themselves to cover endless ground or announce their presence as fluid.
Communities Represent
As older technologies trickled down to the masses, and cultural forms disseminated into the favela there was a cross-pollination. It would be naive to assume that graffiti is a western thing, and that subordinate cultures picked up what our street legends began. However there was definitely an influence. C. Best describes how graffiti in the Caribbean was heavily developed in response to the struggling conditions of the people, but was impacted by the exposure to North American styles and forms. It is interesting to see how graffiti is used as a political tool in many countries around the world, and Best delivers an analysis of this South American style beyond its aesthetic features. […]
Transnational in style and technique, this lower case art is spread through diasporas, creolized and developed across borders. One of the strongest voices of the creolization movement has been Ulf Hannerz who discuses the counter-currents of culture blending in with the waves of globalization. This natural blending generates a birth of new styles without claim to region or nation, but to a mindset, a universal collective.
The Styling on the Wall
The written word has long been a strong tool of integration proliferation and the development of nations. When Guttenburg invented the printing press it gave birth to a revolution not only of knowledge for the common man, but for the spreading of ideas, of culture. Interestingly enough the press, first used for the spread of one dominant religious teaching, quickly gave way to the development of not only other dogmatic ambitions, but also pockets of dissent. Transient ideas, local concepts, and individual freedoms became widespread as people shared their own views through this new medium, through this common technology of the printed word. As literacy grew, so too did criticisms of the dominant culture. Not because the proletariat freshly began to develop dissenting and critical views, but that they finally had a way to communicate them. Indeed the spread of literacy aided the spread of culture, the ability to pass on, to share and to develop, but it also aided in a new form of this critique, one not bound by structure, by bourgeois policy or by dogmatic principle.
Monday, September 8, 2008
maybe it was just one of those...
we all suffer from an overwhelming lack of contact,
there's no conversation beyond the mundane,
even those who pride on politiking
so massaged by the disguised.....ok no this is not where i was going with this
my dinner is ready so I shall keep this brief
there is no community
no development
no individuality
no opinions
the illusion of me - where does it begin,
or rather where does it end?
in a world so bent on being different there's a great sense of siding
but no real fervent sense of being,
how can one escape the vacuum?
in a world so bent on destruction how can you connect?
fear fed and stuffed to the point of obesity...fuck, i hate distractions
the point is a wave,
that's where i'm heading,
a wave, through glass held by 4 tonnes of steel speeding beneath the city
and what did it mean?
not a damn thing,
just human
it was the most human thing i've done recently
reading the propaganda,
the election coverage that equates to the same end, always (hell that IS the campaign platform in many regards)
though it passes the time,
all these labels,
all this resentment
all this vengeful
all this
all this
it's sad the isolation that comes from convergence of ideas
all that grey,
our culture is a cement block.
now can we all at least etch something,
a wave
that's my etching for the day
and the person on the other end,
they etched back,
even just a little,
it was enough.
there's no conversation beyond the mundane,
even those who pride on politiking
so massaged by the disguised.....ok no this is not where i was going with this
my dinner is ready so I shall keep this brief
there is no community
no development
no individuality
no opinions
the illusion of me - where does it begin,
or rather where does it end?
in a world so bent on being different there's a great sense of siding
but no real fervent sense of being,
how can one escape the vacuum?
in a world so bent on destruction how can you connect?
fear fed and stuffed to the point of obesity...fuck, i hate distractions
the point is a wave,
that's where i'm heading,
a wave, through glass held by 4 tonnes of steel speeding beneath the city
and what did it mean?
not a damn thing,
just human
it was the most human thing i've done recently
reading the propaganda,
the election coverage that equates to the same end, always (hell that IS the campaign platform in many regards)
though it passes the time,
all these labels,
all this resentment
all this vengeful
all this
all this
it's sad the isolation that comes from convergence of ideas
all that grey,
our culture is a cement block.
now can we all at least etch something,
a wave
that's my etching for the day
and the person on the other end,
they etched back,
even just a little,
it was enough.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
you take the fun out of me,
take the life out of me,
the machines all surround
they tear the heart out of me
tear the black out of me
and the sky so grey
the sky so grey
it takes the fun out of me
takes the life out of me
the electric clouds come down
they drop the hail out on me
take the light out of me
it could be so simple
it could be so nice
the orange blues rain so
and you could rain so too
but if you sold a million lies
would you buy them back
would you eat the words
from the mouth of your daughter?
if the wires all connect
and all the colours die
and bleed into white
could you be so sure?
take the life out of me,
the machines all surround
they tear the heart out of me
tear the black out of me
and the sky so grey
the sky so grey
it takes the fun out of me
takes the life out of me
the electric clouds come down
they drop the hail out on me
take the light out of me
it could be so simple
it could be so nice
the orange blues rain so
and you could rain so too
but if you sold a million lies
would you buy them back
would you eat the words
from the mouth of your daughter?
if the wires all connect
and all the colours die
and bleed into white
could you be so sure?
Friday, August 15, 2008
nothing.
i want food and i wish we ordered a pizza.
hi.
please. give me something to chew on. something real.
i've grown tiresome of old trite life,
give me something realistic
and tasteful
i need envy
and lust
give me what hurts the most.
i just need a feeling
and some flavour
perhaps the most fake
is the most flavoursome
and thats what i long for now
so please,
i just linger for something that sounds nice
because thats all i have in this world
that's what i need to hear a long side my bed
i don't get you she says
and falls into the sheets,
so beautiful
so alone
all she needs is my arms
and all i hold from her is what i have inside
so in all were even
cause i really need it too
so please take me
slay me
shoot me down
and keep those shoulder blades flexed.
language i don't understand
but love more than my own mother's tongue.
i want food and i wish we ordered a pizza.
hi.
please. give me something to chew on. something real.
i've grown tiresome of old trite life,
give me something realistic
and tasteful
i need envy
and lust
give me what hurts the most.
i just need a feeling
and some flavour
perhaps the most fake
is the most flavoursome
and thats what i long for now
so please,
i just linger for something that sounds nice
because thats all i have in this world
that's what i need to hear a long side my bed
i don't get you she says
and falls into the sheets,
so beautiful
so alone
all she needs is my arms
and all i hold from her is what i have inside
so in all were even
cause i really need it too
so please take me
slay me
shoot me down
and keep those shoulder blades flexed.
language i don't understand
but love more than my own mother's tongue.
so tonight.
the life it seems is so dense.
i've been in this for about a year now
this relation, inspiration, drowning conclusion
i mean that in the best way possible
light is lent to me
if only for a moment
she stands
as if so solid
so covered in red
and white
coloured right
and knowing tight
life is right
but only at moments
and we know these often to few
and apart
please let it be true
if only for a second
a boat party
she screams
and i love her for it
keep it alive only till i taste the meat
i'd love tickets
only at the door
at the door
do you know what the theme is?
the camping
campus
keep real
and alone
its the only way to feel
the life it seems is so dense.
i've been in this for about a year now
this relation, inspiration, drowning conclusion
i mean that in the best way possible
light is lent to me
if only for a moment
she stands
as if so solid
so covered in red
and white
coloured right
and knowing tight
life is right
but only at moments
and we know these often to few
and apart
please let it be true
if only for a second
a boat party
she screams
and i love her for it
keep it alive only till i taste the meat
i'd love tickets
only at the door
at the door
do you know what the theme is?
the camping
campus
keep real
and alone
its the only way to feel
Sunday, August 10, 2008
propane pain
"Early Sunday morning, a massive explosion rocked the northwest end of the city.
A propane facility near Keele and Wilson blew around 4am, and five hours later, the fires still weren't out. There are two tankers that crews are frantically working to cool."
HOLY JEEZE,
how about placing a facility that deals with HIGHLY volatile and ridiculously dangerous substances in residential areas is exactly why Toronto is so fucked, oh and condos in the ghetto? AMAZING IDEA PEOPLE. who plans this shit, really? my cousin used to but now she's in charge of busting grow op's. AND THAT'S HOW WE RUN THIS CITY - because propane and elderly people work so well together (what they don't know can't hurt them, until it explodes...and kills some) and people who design expensive communities in ex-gov-housing areas are rad! then they bust home grown medicinals that work better than overpriced-liver-damaging pills that people all trust! awesome! seriously though people, what the fuck. the longer I live, the more I realize how ridiculous this whole thing is.
the end.
A propane facility near Keele and Wilson blew around 4am, and five hours later, the fires still weren't out. There are two tankers that crews are frantically working to cool."
HOLY JEEZE,
how about placing a facility that deals with HIGHLY volatile and ridiculously dangerous substances in residential areas is exactly why Toronto is so fucked, oh and condos in the ghetto? AMAZING IDEA PEOPLE. who plans this shit, really? my cousin used to but now she's in charge of busting grow op's. AND THAT'S HOW WE RUN THIS CITY - because propane and elderly people work so well together (what they don't know can't hurt them, until it explodes...and kills some) and people who design expensive communities in ex-gov-housing areas are rad! then they bust home grown medicinals that work better than overpriced-liver-damaging pills that people all trust! awesome! seriously though people, what the fuck. the longer I live, the more I realize how ridiculous this whole thing is.
the end.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
blaaaaargh
so yeah, i post rarely,
and now am losing my capacity to deliver proper grammar and (GASP!) even punctu-capitalization.
Lately I've been so focused on photography.
The consumer-pig inside of me drove my wallet into mac-land and now I'm gazing into all its glory. Like a shiny metal glowing piece of fascism telling me THIS IS NECESSARY BUY ME NOW. Too bad I already did, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
That may be beside the point, then again, I started without one. I've recently discovered a new love though - aussi-germanic music. I mean I already had a love affair, but she was always fleeting and this one I feel shall remain. (at least until she grows tiresome, much in the way I should have listened to my friend Josh about the klaxxons who were cool until they started blasting from every scene-tards head piece.)
[[ oh and ps. that isn't offensive to anyone who's with it. and by it I mean that I am. and am means peanuts, which I am SO anaphylactic for. that is to say scene-tard translates vaguely to hipster/popwashed children of our future (?)]]
In particular I am slow to find the following
Asher Roth (HOLY FUCK JIMMY)
this kid kills it. hailing from one of those (POOR) states, he has quick tight vocals verging on the machine-gun-funk styles of Smalls, crossed with the sharp syllabic phonetics of Mr. Shady. AS GOOD OL DRAMA STATES, THIS KID IS CRAZY (go back to jail you pirate! - but don't really, keep delivering joints to my eardrum!). He has production collabs with everyone from TIMBO (who sucks now hahahahaha) to Mr. 3000. If you haven't heard him yet please do yourself a favour and listen to his remix of "A Millie"
DIGITALISM
KILLS IT. the end.
Riot In Belgium
Justice without the bleeding ears. Dash of Daft Punk to taste.
Tokyo Police Club (Elephant Shell)
Okay let's take a minute to remember their debut. Ahhhh mmm, yes gold wrapped in chocolate flakes, sprinkled with diamonds. Now we have this album, subdued, less screaming. Put short they grew up. WELL FUCK AAAAAWWWW MAAAAAAAAN how fucking boring is that. Songs about parent hood will never trump songs about gut-spilling robots. What WERE you thinking? Obviously CASHGRABCASHGRAB QUICK WE RAN OUT OF OUR YOUTH LETS GET OLD AND RICH ON A BEACH. Assholes. Well maybe it's not that bad, but it was better when I was under the buddha leaf standing in the rain. BLAAAAAHHH
Sorry, I get bored with reviews,
I'd think that It would be cool to write reviews sometimes, but then this happens. Oh and TANGENTS.
I think now I'll go play dated video games and buddha! buddha! buddha! mary's rocking every where!
wordlife.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
the end of freedom
I took my dog out to High Park today to try to continue her socialization with other domestics. As I try to avoid the trite sales pitches of the Canadian news I had no idea the terrible and fucked up problems they were having with a corrupt activist set on making an (obscure) statement.Or mayhaps he's just a sketch in desperate need of a hobby - or even still, as one reporter (who shall remain nameless) said "just in need of some drug fix." Regardless anyone so far removed from any moral judgement needs to be far removed from any animal - or thing that I love.
However messed as this was, the real travasty came in the form of retarded censorship (this term of course being used in that it was slow and far behind any rational standard). As my girl and I were leaving the park with our beloved dog, Lady, I was - as I so frequently do - documenting the event. I caught on film (to be posted later) photos of a city employee pouring vast ammounts of an unlabeled substance into the public pool. To my surprise I heard "Allison! Behind you!" Immediately the yellow suited "cleaner" informed me that if I did not erase the photo she would "call the cops."
This extreme infringement on my rights, as well as the basic freedom of the press (alternative or government subsidized...) was actually ridiculously misinformed. Beyond the obvious disregard for FREEDOM, she failed to recognize the fact that I was shooting with a full manual analog camera. When I rewound the roll just enough to get a nice double exposure - and shut Allison up I walked away swearing that were inches away from a fascist state. Big brother or paradise lost, were heading past the realm of public awareness and public discussion.
With cover ups rampant and censorship a regular practice - from monoply press to hung whistlemen we haven't got much left. Hold on. Speak outm for the love of freedom don't be silenced by fear and scare tactics.
However messed as this was, the real travasty came in the form of retarded censorship (this term of course being used in that it was slow and far behind any rational standard). As my girl and I were leaving the park with our beloved dog, Lady, I was - as I so frequently do - documenting the event. I caught on film (to be posted later) photos of a city employee pouring vast ammounts of an unlabeled substance into the public pool. To my surprise I heard "Allison! Behind you!" Immediately the yellow suited "cleaner" informed me that if I did not erase the photo she would "call the cops."
This extreme infringement on my rights, as well as the basic freedom of the press (alternative or government subsidized...) was actually ridiculously misinformed. Beyond the obvious disregard for FREEDOM, she failed to recognize the fact that I was shooting with a full manual analog camera. When I rewound the roll just enough to get a nice double exposure - and shut Allison up I walked away swearing that were inches away from a fascist state. Big brother or paradise lost, were heading past the realm of public awareness and public discussion.
With cover ups rampant and censorship a regular practice - from monoply press to hung whistlemen we haven't got much left. Hold on. Speak outm for the love of freedom don't be silenced by fear and scare tactics.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
sign post
saw a matt good show last night
the man can sing, and dance, and drink.
well not so much dance, but who can anymore?
not when there's television shows devoted to it's destruction
but then, who watches tv anymore?
saw a movie last week on the state of Haiti
and man, I've never felt life to be so easy
but i suppose anything is when your alternative is to dance with the devil
who knows?
Whenever I ride the bus I'm surrounded by piss smelling cattle
all stuffed into a metal box on wheels
with a driver that hates his job but loves his wage
(except not enough to avoid striking here and again)
how many people wear adult diapers?
and why do they believe the smell can be contained?
how long are they wearing them for? I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure it would be good just until you're covered in your own filth.
that's just an idea, though I could be wrong.
I saw a store that specialized in adult diapers...a fucking store - catering to nothing else but incompetence, and beside that shop, a candy rack.
If it's not piss, it's rotting teeth.
but I digress, I believe more people should take public transportation
or ride a bike
or walk
its the same song
and yeah, it's played out
but that's cause everyone would rather listen to whores on the radio
than converse with each other
this is really disorganized.
the man can sing, and dance, and drink.
well not so much dance, but who can anymore?
not when there's television shows devoted to it's destruction
but then, who watches tv anymore?
saw a movie last week on the state of Haiti
and man, I've never felt life to be so easy
but i suppose anything is when your alternative is to dance with the devil
who knows?
Whenever I ride the bus I'm surrounded by piss smelling cattle
all stuffed into a metal box on wheels
with a driver that hates his job but loves his wage
(except not enough to avoid striking here and again)
how many people wear adult diapers?
and why do they believe the smell can be contained?
how long are they wearing them for? I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure it would be good just until you're covered in your own filth.
that's just an idea, though I could be wrong.
I saw a store that specialized in adult diapers...a fucking store - catering to nothing else but incompetence, and beside that shop, a candy rack.
If it's not piss, it's rotting teeth.
but I digress, I believe more people should take public transportation
or ride a bike
or walk
its the same song
and yeah, it's played out
but that's cause everyone would rather listen to whores on the radio
than converse with each other
this is really disorganized.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
suck on this.
i hate drama,
so much drama.
some people have these ideas on the way things should be
and they try to encourage other people to follow them
and then that encouragement turns into force
and then those people are FASCISTS.
and when complacent idiots become fascists because they don't like a particular way of being
then the world becomes a frightening place.
i'm so sick of individuals teaming up in social media based groups
pretending to be activists by the click of a button
and talking a whole bunch of shit about subjects they have no grounded argument against.
these people plague our society, making t-shirts in place of plans
and (rarely) getting of their leather computer chairs to protest the exploitation of some group who's very oppression delivered all of the material possessions that they so covet.
going out to protest, wasting time and tying up resources.
the police should be out busting crack proliferators that destroy our communities,
not shooting water at a bunch of fucking hippies.
take a lesson from our past - willing something doesn't make it so, not unless your jesus...and even then - slight of hand?
we may never know the truth, but we can at least piece together the big picture,
and maybe if we stop fucking around with all of these pathetic excuses for caring
and DID something, then our children can look back someday and say "well, at least MY parent's weren't a bunch of non-persuasive hippie retards."
lets stop with this whole facade too while were at it?
why this air of niceties and shit eating grins?
what happened to having balls?
we've all become a bunch of non-acting, oversensitive bastards.
step up to the plate society, make it happen.
tears don't move people, arms do.
and no number of mouse-clicks in the world can ever amount to any considerable change.
i forgot what my point was.
but i hate you all.
so much drama.
some people have these ideas on the way things should be
and they try to encourage other people to follow them
and then that encouragement turns into force
and then those people are FASCISTS.
and when complacent idiots become fascists because they don't like a particular way of being
then the world becomes a frightening place.
i'm so sick of individuals teaming up in social media based groups
pretending to be activists by the click of a button
and talking a whole bunch of shit about subjects they have no grounded argument against.
these people plague our society, making t-shirts in place of plans
and (rarely) getting of their leather computer chairs to protest the exploitation of some group who's very oppression delivered all of the material possessions that they so covet.
going out to protest, wasting time and tying up resources.
the police should be out busting crack proliferators that destroy our communities,
not shooting water at a bunch of fucking hippies.
take a lesson from our past - willing something doesn't make it so, not unless your jesus...and even then - slight of hand?
we may never know the truth, but we can at least piece together the big picture,
and maybe if we stop fucking around with all of these pathetic excuses for caring
and DID something, then our children can look back someday and say "well, at least MY parent's weren't a bunch of non-persuasive hippie retards."
lets stop with this whole facade too while were at it?
why this air of niceties and shit eating grins?
what happened to having balls?
we've all become a bunch of non-acting, oversensitive bastards.
step up to the plate society, make it happen.
tears don't move people, arms do.
and no number of mouse-clicks in the world can ever amount to any considerable change.
i forgot what my point was.
but i hate you all.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
and the afterthought
after the last post I had a heavy discussion with a friend of mine,
his response to the ideas I carried over to the conversation was that words sometimes need to go into hibernation, take a few years of underground vaca...
seems reasonable, and the situation is beyond fucked when it comes to that damn word,
more inflammatory than nearly anything else, it has been the tool of oppression, the cause of murder and violence, and a constant reminder of how fucked up the world used to be.
there are too many pockets, each with their own different use of the word
some positive, some negative, and some neutral.
should we bury it?
his response to the ideas I carried over to the conversation was that words sometimes need to go into hibernation, take a few years of underground vaca...
seems reasonable, and the situation is beyond fucked when it comes to that damn word,
more inflammatory than nearly anything else, it has been the tool of oppression, the cause of murder and violence, and a constant reminder of how fucked up the world used to be.
there are too many pockets, each with their own different use of the word
some positive, some negative, and some neutral.
should we bury it?
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
HEY
WOW ITS BEEN A LONG TIME
SO THE CAPITAL LETTERS ARE SEEMINGLY NECESSARY
I just thought I'd catch up on what the fudge is going on with me and my whole scene
so here, lets have a gander shall we?
1. business time (when i'm wearing my business socks you know it's business time...bizznaaaasss)
here's the deal: RIOTCREATIVE is the dopest thing going on right now in photography, why? because we have two seasoned and published photographers working together to create the majesty of awesomeness. yeah, it's goodtimes
check it. riotcreative.com
and we've got business cards and buttons and....oh yeah, TALENT.
so tell all your friends,
nice.
2. music cha
so i've been working a lot, filling up my drawer with tapes of raw sex material. piano/drums/turntables and an mpc. plus i've got the beautiful natalie castellino lending some vocals to make it that much better than anything you've heard before.
well that's two points,
which is more than you had before
so be happy
and yeah, this isn't the friendliest post
but it's real...and isn't real what counts in this world of lies?
thought so.
oh ps.
riot creative also handles my music recording jazz, the hip-hop collective, and the painted works of myself and natalie castellino.
PEACELOVEANDRESPECT
WOW ITS BEEN A LONG TIME
SO THE CAPITAL LETTERS ARE SEEMINGLY NECESSARY
I just thought I'd catch up on what the fudge is going on with me and my whole scene
so here, lets have a gander shall we?
1. business time (when i'm wearing my business socks you know it's business time...bizznaaaasss)
here's the deal: RIOTCREATIVE is the dopest thing going on right now in photography, why? because we have two seasoned and published photographers working together to create the majesty of awesomeness. yeah, it's goodtimes
check it. riotcreative.com
and we've got business cards and buttons and....oh yeah, TALENT.
so tell all your friends,
nice.
2. music cha
so i've been working a lot, filling up my drawer with tapes of raw sex material. piano/drums/turntables and an mpc. plus i've got the beautiful natalie castellino lending some vocals to make it that much better than anything you've heard before.
well that's two points,
which is more than you had before
so be happy
and yeah, this isn't the friendliest post
but it's real...and isn't real what counts in this world of lies?
thought so.
oh ps.
riot creative also handles my music recording jazz, the hip-hop collective, and the painted works of myself and natalie castellino.
PEACELOVEANDRESPECT
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