Category: culture

better already

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Man, sometimes, you just have to suck it up and take your medicine (if you can afford the medicine, which is a whole other issue, and thank goodness, I live in Canada, at least until Poilievre gets in, which he looks increasingly likely to do, the slimy, deceitful fuck).

Sofi’s better already. Two doses of antibiotic and some probiotic and she’s already pooped, slept through the night and seems so much more content.

Poor baby.

I wish she didn’t have to go through that. Would that no one would, but I suppose it shapes character.

Still, that’s kind of bullshit. We can learn through happiness as much as we can through sorrow.

We just don’t.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 1872 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Words For Pictures, Brian Michael Bendis
Comics; The Boys 17-20
Music: New York City Groove, Various Artists (but mostly for the Tom Waits)

100 bullets

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Why isn’t this a show on HBO yet?

Other than maybe Y: The Last Man, I’ve never read anything that doesn’t so perfectly beg to be made into something onscreen.

Of course, they fucked up Y: The Last Man apparently, because it was cancelled after one season, but hey, gender identity politics do kind of make that a tough sell in the current climate. Dichotomy was sort of the thing before; spectrum doesn’t really play to the story as well.

But still.

100 Bullets.

Are you fucking kidding me?

GET IT DONE.

Target: 900 words
Written: 983 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Hepatitis Bathtub And Other Stories, NOFX
Comics: 100 Bullets 97-100
Music: A New Kind Of Army, Anti-Flag

lost in space

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I’m back to it – the non-Molly Parker, plus-Marta Kristen version, in which I don’t understand the infatuation with the latter.

I mean, she’s beautiful and all, but she’s window dressing most of the time in the show, like her mother. Nice to look at, but ultimately, boring.

In the Netflix version, Judy and Maureen were anything but (and I would be lying if I didn’t have an unnatural attraction to Molly Parker’s Maureen). Strong women are wonderful.

Flirty and light can be fun, but when the chips are down, I prefer a woman who engages, not one who demures.

Long term, superficial is unsustainable. But the depths of a strong woman?

They can feel so big, you get lost in them.

(In a good way, an endless exploration way, not a strong woman subsumes a weak man, though certainly, in any gender context, strong personalities do have a tendency to swallow the meeker, and that’s something to explore as well, but not in this particular instance. Men who wish their women are weaker are, well, sad and pathetic).

Anyway, so be it. I am married to a strong woman, of that there is no doubt. I’ll be the John to her Maureen any day.

Target: 900 words
Written: 992 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Wishsong Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Once And Future 20-22, Die 20
Music: Nearly Lost You, Screaming Trees (Mark Lanegan, historically, so underrated)

the yankees are still a thing?

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I didn’t think they were any good anymore. Like not terribly, but comfortably mediocre, like most teams.

I like baseball, but do people actually care anymore?

It requires a patience and attention that doesn’t really exist in our Instagram/Snapchat/TikTok world.

After all, why have a long-lasting memory when it can just disappear in twenty-four hours. I wonder if this generation’s instances of Alzheimer’s is going to spike because of the lack of long-term memory-making abilities.

Everything has to be a filter; nothing real, nothing dirty.

Unless they want to cancel you, then even the hint of an accusation can destroy a person’s entire world. That’s something I struggle with; where’s the line between believing victims and voiding one’s own ability to determine bullshit.

Because let’s face it, in this era, everyone can make themselves a victim in a heartbeat, by referencing feelings. I hear it all of the time, and while in many cases, there’s legitimacy, in a lot of cases, it’s herd mentality, jumping on a trend to abdicate one’s own responsibility in one’s own life.

Framing is everything, and I think it behooves us to be both harsh in the judgment of those who would exploit others and open-minded to the possibility that maybe not all accusations are legit (intentionally or otherwise – sometimes people just can’t see that their hurt or spite isn’t the whole picture).

Anyway, how we got to me treading the line on cancel culture from baseball, I don’t know. 

Target: 900 words
Written: 192 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Wishsong Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Once And Future 8-10, Die 12
Music: Natural History: The Very Best Of Talk Talk, Talk Talk (talktalktalktalktlkatlkatalktaltkaltkallfuck)

irritating radio hosts

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We know a guy who runs the morning radio show on the local radio station. He sounds like a nice guy on the radio, sort of, but in reality, he’s kind of an idiot.

First, he’s a Doug Ford guy, so I think one must immediately call his intelligence and integrity into question (as one would anyone who supports these hard right wingers). Secondly, he continues to play the same dozen songs from the late Eighties to early Two Thousands (to the point where I’m fairly certain his life’s dream was to be in a boy band). When he’s not in, more modern music (on the contemporary pop station, surprise!) gets played.

He domineers his cohosts, to the point where when he’s not there, they have difficulty establishing themselves as a primary.

Personally, he’s never been anything but rude and dismissive to us, despite us being friends with his long time girlfriend (that he refused to marry or have kids with, despite that being kind of the whole thing with her). He’s definitely a bit sexist, and possibly, you know, one of those “not that there’s anything wrong with that” homophobes.

So, yeah, his voice annoys the fuck out of me.

See? It’s not only bad pop that irritates me.

Target: 900 words
Written: 848 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Gregor And The Curse Of The Warmbloods, Suzanne Collins
Comics: The Wicked + The Divine 32-33, The Wicked + The Divine: Christmas Annual 1, The Wicked + The Divine: 1923 1
Music: Us Against The Crown, State Radio

return from blue mountain

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Sounds like a cheesy Eighties find yourself adventure or maybe even a horror movie, where the kind of geeky lost soul goes somewhere, has an adventure, realizes it was all bullshit, and then comes back to sweep the girl of his dreams off her feet.

You know, the girl he’s only ever really known in passing, and who, in reality, would never date this guy who comes out of nowhere with his newfound perspective on life, all based around love (love he has for her, but she’s never really thought about him; she’s too busy diddling over the football star).

He’d have had some partying fun, met a girl who was maybe manipulative, but who would have taken him through his first real sexual experiences, but then betrayed him unexpectedly, making him realize he didn’t actually want what he thought he wanted, and so, he comes down the mountain, proposes to the girl, who is (because this is all about him and not her) expected to swoon and drop everything to be with this brand new bodhisattva/reformed bad boy, because love, and we all jump onboard and presume happily ever after, but really, what do these people even know about each other?

There’s likely some gratuitous nudity, because in this world, women are objects, not people, so making lewd jokes at their expense and paying some struggling actress to doff her top (and probably threaten that she’ll never work again if she doesn’t, or promise that the big studios will come running, and other big stars did it, and also, other stuff, behind the scenes, you know how it works, wink wink nudge nudge), and we’re all just fine with it because we love sexual freedom (which we do), but we also love the exploitation of women as a secondary class, and if we can combine the two… Hollywood!

Anyway, we’re back from Collingwood, and let’s hope that movie never gets made.

It sounds positively horrid.

Target: 900 words
Written: 247 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Gregor And The Curse Of The Warmbloods
Comics: The Wicked + The Divine: 455 AD 1, The Wicked + The Divine 29-31
Music: Urban Hymns, The Verve (one of my all-time favourite albums... simply one of the best)

not-so-new beds

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So, our new beds were a no show. I took the day off to completely dismantle and remove two beds, and the fuckers didn’t even have the courtesy to show the fuck up.

How the fuck does a company, where one of the absolutely key components is delivery, not have any kind of contingency plan if one of their movers calls in sick?

That’s bad fucking management right there, made worse by the asshole who called and said, “well, what do you want me to do about it?”, as though this were somehow our fault. What a fucking asshole.

Of course, we asked for some kind of compensation, for time taken off and aggravation. Her response: “It’s not my fault someone called in sick.”

Like… really? She offered to have the manager call back, but like a coward, he did not.

If we didn’t want to have to go back out mattress shopping again, I’d demand all my money back right now. That’s some poor goddamned management right there.

We were thinking of getting a new kitchen table and TV there, but fuck that shit now. Assholes.

Fuck the muthafuckin’ Brick. You wish there was some way to tell someone up higher, but their website doesn’t even allow for proper feedback, so you know this company doesn’t actually give a shit.

Man, I’m tired of exploitive, incompetent, uncaring assholes.

Target: 900 words
Written: 870 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Happiness Of Pursuit, Chris Guillebeau
Comics: Phonogram: The Immaterial Girl 4-6, The Wicked + The Divine 17
Music: Uprising, Muse

caught up, okay

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I’m okay. I’m probably okay.

I mean, nobody’s really okay, but I’m okay-ish. All my idols are being destroyed one by one, which probably means one shouldn’t have idols. The lovely men and women of the world never seem to be the ones at the forefront, the darlings; it’s always the guy nobody really realized until they were gone.

Also, again, no correlation between talent and being a good person.

(See Spacey, Kevin)

It’s easy to go off the rails, and I think we underestimate how much fame can affect a person. How when people start throwing themselves at you and it’s no longer an effort to earn things, one can become entitled to the point of criminality.

For the most part, we let them get away with it, which is why it’s such a goddamned shame when the public image is ripped away.

Fuck ’em, for the most part.

But still. The Usual Suspects, Neverwhere, The Belgeriad… still good, or even great, even if the ones that created them are monsters.

It’s a conflict that never ends; is great art made less great by bad behaviour, or is bad behaviour just one facet of an artist, to be divorced or overlooked when evaluating the content of the work?

No one is perfect; some men are far less so.

There is no answer here, only acknowledgement.

Perhaps we’re just fooling ourselves, because we want to believe. We want to enjoy. We want to love.

But humanity is complex; there are ever demons with which to be dealt.

Target: 900 words
Written: 949 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Happiest Days Of Our Lives, Wil Wheaton
Comics: The Wicked + The Divine 12-13, Phonogram: The Immaterial Girl 1-2
Music: Up To Here, The Tragically Hip (fucking seminal, man - if Gord Downie is ever outed as a rapist or racist or whatever, I will lose all faith in humanity.)

crowfest

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I feel like it’s such a cool idea that needs better execution. Vendors, buskers, but like what about the other public stuff? I’m sure the gala was cool, but that’s limited to whoever can afford tickets.

Beyond that, there should be dark movies in the park, dark dances, dark whatever.

Like early Hallowe’en, but crow themed.

Anyway, I had a couple of nice glasses of wine while people watching, and the dogs were happy, even when our waitress tripped over her.

On a side note: that boss clearly has a type and one must ask in this day and age, is it still okay only to hire nothing but attractive girls and put them in the shortest miniskirts possible? Like, I understand the need for uniforms in a customer service business, and she was great, knew what she was doing and seemed very nice and all that, but yeah. I hope her and her fellow waitresses don’t have to put up with a lecherous owner or manager. With all the stories that have come out over the last few years, one has to wonder.

Anyway, all in all, Crowfest, in its third year (and finally having realized that if you’re going to have people outside, you don’t want it in late October/November) remains a nugget of untapped potential, going who knows where.

Sounds familiar.

Target: 900 words
Written: 2923 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Unholy Night, Seth Grahame-Smith
Comics: Phonogram: The Singles Club 7, The Wicked + The Divine 1-3
Music: Up, R.E.M.

friday the 13th

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Thank the universe, finally a day I can get behind.

I’ve always had luck with this number, probably being born on it (and its opposite, seven), so I feel like my entire life is a good luck, bad luck story, but with most of the luck actually being supplied by my own decision making and the unfortunate decision making of others.

Plus, you know, random fate.

We control our response, our decisions, our behaviour.

When we talk of freedom, this is what we mean.

Total freedom isn’t freedom from responsibility or consequence.

It’s giving in absolutely to the knowledge that total freedom means total responsibility.

We are responsible for the consequences of our choices, our actions, our words, our behaviour.

Sure, we can have neuroses and trauma and all that informing it, but we are not helpless.

Don’t believe anyone who says you are, or that you just have to snap your fingers and you can move past it.

It’s not easy; but not impossible. Total freedom means total acceptance of what is, and making the decisions and taking the actions that you want to take, and understanding that if you make poor decisions or demonstrate shitty behaviour, there will be consequences for that.

That’s what Republicans and Conservatives don’t seem to understand: freedom is not freedom from consequences. It is not a license to behave as irresponsibly as you want without any fear of retaliation or judgment.

Guess what? You can say whatever your want, and act however you want, but you live within the world; the world can (and probably will) push back.

Target: 800 words
Written: 530 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Hilarity Ensues, Tucker Max (I recognize the irony of this blog post versus this book)
Comics: The Magdalena v3 1-4
Music: The Unraveling, Rise Against