Friday, May 28, 2010

The pipe ain't the only thing leaking crap

I write this piece from under a table, barricaded in my basement. They'll be coming for me soon.
Now, I agree that oil companies are evil and Rush Limbaugh and Glen Beck are fucking idiots, but... environmentalists continue to be the stupidest, most self-righteous people in the world. Yes, the oil leak is indeed a disaster and 11 people are dead (remember the rig workers?); however, to say that the risk isn't worth the reward is just plain asinine. The world runs on oil. We need it. A day will come when our dependence on oil will end but that day is not here yet. We can't just flip a switch and suddenly run the world on Kumbaya Power. Yes, we must start work today on a fossil fuel free world but it will take time. And until that time we will need oil. The Earth is strong. It has seen far worse days than this and still it prospered. Humans cannot destroy the planet; we can only affect our ability to live on it. So, Save the Planet? Yeah, it needs our help.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Reasons Why Han Solo Is Way Better Than Luke Skywalker

So I'm watching Star Wars again, and it starts to dawn on me that Luke Skywalker is really kind of a loser. As I watched, I started making this list in my mind.
In no particular order:
1) Even blind and without the force, Han's aim is pretty damn good.
2) If Luke was on Scooby-Doo, you just know he'd say "Jinkies" more than Velma (Picture it. You know I'm right.).
3) Hans father isn't a homicidal war criminal. Luke is like the George W. Bush of that galaxy far, far away: he gets sent by his father's friends to finish a war his dad started. Also, at the end of all six movies, Han doesn't find out the saga wasn't actually about him. Hate to break it to you Luke, but you're Mary Corleone.
4) Luke needs to sell his speeder (Speed-er? Scoot-er? Coincidence? I think not) to buy a ride on a ship Han won in a freakin' card game.
5) Luke hasn't got a clue what the Kessel Run is, nor can he do it in 12 parsecs (*Nerd Alert: In Star Wars lore, the Kessel Run is a space corridor running close to a black hole. If making the run includes passing through curved space, the distance isn't fixed; therefore, using a measurement of distance (a parsec) instead of time is feasible.).
6) Han would never bother to explain like I just did.
7) Han has the stamina to build a shelter while Luke just lounges around inside a dead beast of burden. And what is it with light sabers and fucking limbs? You can always tell when the Jedi are about because the place looks like a goddamned War Amp commercial. When Han shoots Greedo, he doesn't lop off an ear; he kills him. If some horned Yeti hung me upside down in a meat locker, I'd sure as shit do more then take his freakin' arm off! Luke deserved to die of frost bite for wussing out.
8) Corvette Summer or Raiders of the Lost Ark? When Ford was kicking ass in Clear and Present Danger, Hamil was doing voice work on Biker Mice From Mars. I mean, come on... it's like Hamil wasn't even trying. Okay, maybe The Joker was cool, but you're not going to see Harrison Ford signing comic books at conventions to buy food.
9) Chewbacca probably stank real bad but he was still cooler than a blue and white garbage can on wheels. I think living with R2-D2 would be worse than having your phone stuck on the "Hello Moto" ringtone. In fact, for those of you who think R2 was "cute," set your phone to continually play the "Hello Moto" ringtone and drop it into the office garbage can. I can guarantee you that within five minutes, Gladys, the mousy but cute receptionist, will be charging cubicle to cubicle, double-tapping everyone in her path with that Smith & Wesson .45 you never would have guessed she kept in her purse.
10) Even if he is a "scruffy looking, nerf herder," Han can do Leia without breaking the laws of Nature and Mankind. Five minutes after the end of Jedi, Han and Leia are knocking boots while Luke probably does some monkish meditation with three, dead, bluish-glowing guys, one of whom, is his dad. Plus, watching Luke interact with the Ewoks just creeps me out. It's like some pedophilic beastiality just waiting to go down.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Whining won't become a habit; I promise

Someone help me; I’m getting nostalgic. Waiting for the bus, I want the 90s back. Granted I was listening to The Crow soundtrack, right before switching over to Joy Division because NIN’s version of “Dead Souls” doesn’t quite measure up. Maybe I’d be in a better mood if I wasn’t listening to Joy Division (or waiting for a bus for that matter), but there is part of me that wants to grow my hair out again, put my earrings back in, and not shave when I don’t want to. That’s unlikely to happen, especially as I am waiting for the bus as part of two hour journey to get a cup of coffee. But it is good coffee. I didn’t care much for coffee in the 90s. If I had, I wouldn’t be waiting for a bus.
I snag a copy of The Georgia Straight at the bus stop. An article about Justin Bieber being “the Devil in disguise” has caught my attention. I hate that little shit. The article doesn’t make me feel any better about it, of course. Mike Usinger’s article woefully points out, “at a time when nothing is selling, our little Beelzebub has managed to go platinum.” This does not bode well. Usinger puts into words what we are all thinking: the record companies have found money in the machine again and any attempts to create something new will end right now. Of course, reading about things not being as good as they once were in The Georgia Straight is a delicious bit of irony in itself.
I often go to shows where some in attendance are younger than the band shirt I’m wearing. At least it isn’t a Bieber show or a reunion gig for New Kids on the Block. Some people still get it. But I suppose it has always been this way. The mainstream is the main stream for a reason. But the best fishing remains in the tributaries. As if to seal the deal, passing Capilano Mall on the bus, I am sure I see the guitar player from Drag the River, the band I fronted in the early 90s. Last I heard he was a librarian back east but still playing his guitar like a maniac. His hair is still down past his shoulder blades and his Aviators sit on an unshaven face. God bless him; If was it him. It would be even more surprising for him to be out and about so soon after Dio’s death. I figured he’d be down for at least a month after hearing about that.
Damn this coffee is good. I’ve been looking for new hangouts. My local just got busted by the Smoking Cops and is now plastered with hastily made "No Smoking" announcements, which we all vandalized pdq. So, after two hours, here I am at the Cafe for Contemporary Art (140 East Esplanade, NV) drinking a damn good coffee. My friend, Robyn *(The Stiletto Cafe, Walk Through Puddles), works here and is a self-professed “coffee snob.” Ours is a tenuous relationship, given that I spend a good part of my time searching out shitty cups of coffee as they are becoming harder and harder to find.
CAFCA is a neat little place. Perhaps a wee bit too far off the drag (a half block east of Lonsdale Ave in North Vancouver), it has a lot of potential. For starters, the coffee is great (made by a weird little robot called a Clover) and they have a nice gallery space right in the cafe. I guestimate it to be about 600 square feet of floor with 16ft of wall space, floor to ceiling. The current exhibit leaves a bit to be desired but it looks as though the gallery space was given up in this instance more out of civic duty than commercial sense. High school kids are capable of taking great pictures, but having the write-ups of what each picture is “meant to symbolize” is just a little too Grade 12 for me. It is a start nonetheless. In a city starving for places for artists to starve a little less, it is a welcome arrival. Did I mention the coffee was good? Haven’t tried the food yet but that’s only because I rarely eat while drinking. Old habits, y’know? Can’t have too much new stuff in my life or I might just start enjoying it again.

*Correction: I have since been informed that Robyn is a "coffee slut", not a "coffee snob" as written above. My apologies.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010


Some people drink. Some people smoke crack. Me? I make blogs.
My other blog, The Loudmouth Bear, is over on and deals mostly with Vancouver and my adventures in the city. This blog is designed for my inner imp, the blogger who longs to fill the Internet with what Tom Wolfe calls "narcissistic shrieks and baseless information."
Let the games begin.