Saturday, November 27, 2004

Somniferous Exigency


Due to circumstances fully and completely within my control my departure has been delayed (In no small part to conflicting weather reports from the home office). As a result it appears I shall employ yet another weekend with fustian reflections regarding the apparent insipidness of human existence. I am not so certain that this is the proper time for such musings as lately I must admit to strange feelings of listlessness. Despite my best efforts its seems that I am being swept into some pit of stoic resignation. It may be only a matter of time before I become just another mindless member of The Quintessential Collective of Languid Mediocrity.

I suppose it really wouldn't be all that bad to blindly accept that everything is occurring exactly as it should, and that this is as good as it gets. Unfortunately I can't seem to overcome my belief that society seems to be selling the meaning of life with a synthetic glaze of contentment and false hope on the side. It's quite likely I'd be much happier over the holiday's if I simply conceded defeat and surrendered myself to the propaganda that surrounds us. Ah, to be able to blindly put my faith in the ecclesiastical dogma of big business. Sadly that is about as likely to happen as me becoming a highly religious born again convert...

And, sadly, I lack the inspiration to continue with this.

Friday, November 26, 2004

Deviant Delusions

Ah... Blind ambition. Aspirations. The never-ending struggle to get ahead and stay there. Staying ahead of what still remains a mystery to me, yet I've noticed a large number of people scurrying about this coastal village called Vancouver who certainly seem to be in a hurry to get there.

I squandered a large part of my weekend perched perilously on a street corner watching attentively as the drama occurred around me. At least is started out attentively. I must admit that somewhere between the Guinness, the gin, and the bacardi my focus may have drifted slightly. Luckily there was no shortage of panhandlers to ensure that I remained steadfast in my street side scrutiny. All they asked in return was for spare change and cigarettes.

At some point I became rather annoyed by the young fellow in the designer clothes who approached for the fourth time to "borrow" a smoke and a quarter to make a call. Not once did I ever see him make a call. I've come to suspect that perhaps it was never his intention to use the phone and that he had some other purpose for the money. Saving up for a cup of coffee, for instance.

For a purely entertaining thrill ride I forced myself onto the late night bus to the corner of Hastings and Main. A truly enlightening and eye opening experience. Should anyone feel that their lives are empty and meaningless, I truly recommend a quick trip to put everything in a proper perspective. Or, if a view of the other end of the spectrum is needed you can always take the lovely drive north along the coast until you reach the Heavenly Narcissistic Haven of Whistler Village. Here you can encounter a profusion of hubristic personas devoid of any inspiration or desire beyond looking good and ensuring everyone else knows it. I must admit I felt a great deal of perverse pleasure just being there.

Now, however, the time has come to leave the warmer climate of the West Coast and venture once more across the mountains to the Land of the Frozen Heathens. All I can do is pray that some kind soul will be waiting in Cowtown with a frosty pint of Traditional.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

Traveling Turpitude

The week in review:

Three days of waiting for the airline to locate my luggage. One medivac off the mountain top for a fellow suffering from altitude sickness. One ankle (Not mine) broken in a drunken wrestling match. One case of an extremely rare disease. And one search and rescue attempt for an inexplicably missing crew. A relatively boring seven days. It is so nice to be back in the civilized lands where the most dangerous thing I've encountered are the cab drivers.

Traveling is something I do often. Often enough to find it completely irritating that others who do it more frequently have not yet figured out the simple ways in which to accomplish it in a painless fashion. Thus, in hopes that one day I may manage to make it through a customs line up in less than an hour here are a few simple tips:

1) Discard the gaudy jewelry. The fourteen rings adorning your body in various locations, the cheap Gucci knockoff watch, the silver pendant, the oversized belt buckle, the impressive copper bracelet - All have a nasty tendency to set off the metal detector. The rest of us have the pleasure of patiently waiting as you remove the offending item and attempt once more to make it through the screening process. In order to speed up the process remove them before you reach the detector. Please.

2) Loose change. I know it is painful to part with the $0.67 in your pocket. The security people may be tempted to pilfer your hard earned money. But change is made of metal. Metal tends to set off the metal detector. If you set off the metal detector, the rest of us will get to wait and watch as you repeat the process.

3) Steel toed boots. Take them off. Place them in the provided tray. Steel is metal. Metal tends to set off the detector.

4) Sharp objects. Knives and such are difficult to get through security. Admittedly they look exceptionally cool strapped to your belt, unfortunately they are prohibited. By prohibited they mean "Not Allowed". You can try and argue. I will patiently await in line behind you.

5) Cell phones and Laptops. Ensure they are charged before you head to the airport. They will inevitably ask you to turn them on. If the batteries are dead and the unit does not turn on, it is likely to turn into an argument. Arguing with the security people may result in further delays.

Now, in the off chance you actually arrive safely at your destination I offer a few other minor tips that may assist in an incident free journey. (Mostly only of use if you are traveling to a quaint little country we call Canada). The first thing you may notice upon arrival is a blanket of white powder that appears to cover pretty much everything. We call this "Snow".

Snow, for the most part, is cold. It is an integral ingredient for the creation of igloos, snowballs, and snowmen. It is also a much needed part of the entire tobogganing experience and is necessary for skiing and snowboarding. Snow also has a tendency to make driving a precarious adventure. For those unaccustomed to operating a vehicle in such conditions I would highly recommend buses, taxi cabs, and dog sleds for transport.

For those arriving from smaller rural areas you may encounter a novelty we refer to as traffic lights. Their main purpose is to control the flow of traffic in an organized fashion. The way in which they work is really quite simple: Green means go. Yellow means accelerate quickly through the intersection. Red means stop (Similar in many ways to a Stop Sign).

And finally - Buy a toque. You won't regret it.

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine

“Life is a pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

Well, apparently I am doing a relatively pathetic job of selling myself. There are a few bored people on the planet who seem to believe they have me all figured out. It seems I am a disconsolate, dark and repressed individual and spend the majority of my time clad in gothic attire hiding out in my basement plotting the demise of mankind.

Quite simply that is untrue. I leave the demise of mankind up to the exceptionally disturbed crack addicts of

The truth is I lack any sense of cynicism and always endeavour to view the world through rose-coloured glasses. I enjoy spending my time taking long walks on the beach, in the moonlight, and in the rain. I possess limitless patience and am generally a kind, considerate, generous, caring and loving individual. And honest. Very honest. Trust me.

I also am the proud owner of a nice little bridge that I may be willing to let go. For the right price.

Occasionally, however, I slip out of my state of obliviousness and actually look at the world around me. Once focused on the world my rest reaction is to reach for the nearest beer and drink until the world no longer appears so completely fucked, or the girl at the bar begins to look cute - Whichever comes first.

On very rare occasions this time honoured coping mechanism fails miserably. It leaves me with ever more questions. Most notably “Where am I?” and “How did I get here?”
Thus far I have been largely disappointed with the answers.

Other days something, or someone, convinces me that perhaps I am not quite as sublime as I would like. A healthy dose of gin can quickly cure that. (For occasional bouts of guilt I recommend Vodka)

Hopefully this helps to clear up some of the confusion I’ve encountered and puts everything in perspective. If not feel free to drop me a line and we can discuss this little investment opportunity I came across – A sweet deal on some ocean front property.

‘Till next time – Much love….

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

A Comment Gone Awry...

As I seem to have acquired the same “Decay of Society” scented air freshener:

Everyone, it seems, is looking for some sort of distraction from their empty, meaningless, and mundane lives - Unwilling to accept the fact that they didn’t unfold in a Fairy tale like fashion. The consumerist pathology that seems to be sweeping through gives them small way to fill the void where “feeling, emoting, thinking, and giving a shit” used to be. They can now approach the world with a smug “Look what I bought” attitude. Apparently owning what is new and expensive is an adequate replacement for actually living life. Personally I’d just like to offer these people a nice, warm cup of “Shut the fuck up.”

Far be it for people to actually spend time communicating and interacting with their children. It is so much simpler to plant them in front of the television. Should they begin to misbehave there is, of course, no way it could be a lack of proper parenting or discipline. It must, therefore, be a medical condition. Unfortunately most doctors these days seem to have lapsed into the same quagmire as the rest of society. They seem more apt to prescribe rather than treat. The same, I believe, is true of Therapists. Apparently they are quite content to sit silently awaiting some sort of abreaction to justify a prescription. Prozac, Valium, Vicodin, and Ritalin can “cure” whatever ails you.

At the risk of being even more presumptuous than usual – I’m thinking you may have done a fine job in the psychology field. I get the impression that you could have offered people with a damaged psyche something a little more helpful than “Take two of the pink pills and tell me about your mother.”

I like to think that things will change for the better, but it’s difficult. Looking about as a large portion of the planet wanders about in a haze – Heavily medicated, moderately sedated, partially deluded, or completely disaffected.

Combine that with an excuse to overindulge their consumer habits with the upcoming holiday season (Only 44 days ‘till Christmas) and it is almost impossible not to become disheartened and somewhat nauseated.

I truly wish more people would come to the realization that there really is more to life than simply “existing” from one day to the next. Unfortunately, I don’t see it happening anytime soon.

Alas, the voices in my head have told me it is time to get back to work…

(For those completely clueless about what I'm babbling on about, please look here:

Saturday, November 06, 2004

Imminent Ambiguity

I am beginning to feel like a spectator in the Omnibus box observing as the Theatre of Life performs before me – I can watch, but am unable to provide any direction. Strange to witness intellectual atrophy run rampant through society and remain powerless to slow the spread of the plague. Watching as supposedly free and democratic countries sit on the verge of becoming Oligarchies.

I begin to consider the concept of Karma and Fate – trying to determine if I believe in a prearranged destiny or doom, or do we each have control over our own lives?

“…Yielding to eternity or enclosing oneself in the moment…” (Simone de Beauvoir)

Words that lately have begun to have a greater meaning than I previously realized. A choice to make – to succumb to the mandates of society or remain an individual struggling to shed the draconian labels so quickly applied.

Ambivalence. The best word I can find to describe my feeling. Lost, confused, and definitely torn. Structure, society, and conforming to what has been, since an early age, instilled as acceptable – Or making decisions based on what I feel is right, on exercising my own free will and trusting my own ethical and moral standards.

But then what does it really matter? One way or another we will all find ourselves at the same place in the end. Eventually Atropos will cut the thread and all will have become meaningless. What to do in the meantime? Grasp hold of some apotropaic talisman and pray for the best? Succumb to hedonistic desires and live only for the moment? Or venture forth and try, in some feeble way, to make a difference?

Exuent Omnes.

Friday, November 05, 2004

The Friday Facade

The fear of being alone, and of remaining that way, seems to adversely affect the judgement of many people. The desperate need to feel loved; to believe that there is a place for them somewhere in the world is overwhelming. They will, invariably, seek solace wherever it is convenient.

Some will become faithful members of the church to fill the empty void. Others may find ritual sacrifice is more to their taste and join a cult. Some may take a more mundane approach and simply join the PTA. And yet others may simply become die-hard sports fans - fooling themselves into believing that their team’s victory somehow validates their own empty existence. Myself? No affiliation as of yet, but I’m thinking perhaps group therapy or AA meetings. I am sure either one should be able to provide the loving support that I crave.

There are people who do not need their own coven to fulfill this desire to be loved. Their yearning to be cherished can be satiated by one night in the arms of whichever vile creature is first to offer them a drink. They can generally be found hovering around barstools and are easily identified by their ability to misconstrue a nod of acknowledgement as a sign that you care. A smile can be mistaken for a declaration of undying love, and purchasing them a drink is akin to a marriage proposal. (How I came by this information is of no consequence)

Then there are others who’s thirst for unconditional adoration causes them to create life – those who feel the presence of a child will give their life purpose and meaning that they were otherwise lacking. (Not that I have anything against someone having a child - I’m against someone having a child simply because they are lonely)

Then there are the most dangerous of the solitary souls. The Stalkerish types - those that view the object of their desire as prey. They seem to operate under the delusion that by hunting their beloved they can, at some point, catch them alone. Occasionally abduction is necessary to expedite the process. Once alone they will run through a myriad of persuasion techniques to convince the lucky victim that the feeling of love is mutual. If crying, screaming, pitiful attempts at seduction, and copious amounts of alcohol are unsuccessful it is not uncommon for torture and starvation to ensue.

Is there a point to this rambling? I really have no idea. It just struck me that everyone, despite protesting to the contrary, has the deep inner hunger to feel loved and appreciated and clings desperately to the belief that somewhere out there is someone or something to feed the hunger.

What if there is not something for everyone? What if some poor, hapless souls are destined forever to be alone? Never truly connecting to another person or group? Never truly knowing that sense of love and belonging that leads one to feel complete and fulfilled? Or does everyone wander around with that vague feeling that there is something missing?

Some, it seems, are quite content and happy. Outwardly it looks like they have somehow discovered the secret to inner peace. Occasionally I wonder if appearances are deceiving. Is it just a façade created because that is the way they wish to appear? Or are they just completely oblivious?

Ignorance, I’ve heard, is bliss.

So then I wonder – How is it you know you’ve found that elusive missing link? Some mystical force that bonks you on the head and tells you “This is right.”? A sudden warm and fuzzy feeling inside? Does the nagging feeling inside just fade away to be replaced by endless happiness and that vacant smile?

Then there is the frightening revelation – Perhaps it just myself that wanders about with the hollow, empty feeling within. Maybe not everyone desires more from life, from people, and from themselves. It’s entirely possible, but a possibility I stubbornly refuse to accept.

Quite simply – There must be more.

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