hip to be square

American Psycho - I watch it when I'm horribly stressed out. There's a kind of vicarious relief I get through watching Christian Bale act like an entitled sociopath. Even sociopaths can be incredibly witty. There's some really clever dialogue and a constant self aware mocking of the culture of the 80's. What did people in "Mergers and Acquisitions" do anyway? Or as Patrick (Bateman, and if you don't know that by now why are you here?) liked to call it "Murders and Executions". At the same time, even if Patrick is a sociopath he has this gross appreciation of the more meaningful (supposedly) subtexts of horribly superficial 80's music. He explains part of this to Paul Allen as he gets ready to bash his face in with a very brand new axe. Part of me wonders if there's an off screen visit to a hardware store, the ritual of it -- the premeditation of the death of Paul Allen. Would he be happy? Would he walk down the aisle and fantasize? Would he buy a really expensive axe? (Seems so from the look of the film). Patrick must have OCD. One can tell by his diet, his morning beauty and exercise regimen, but mostly from the way he protects his floors from Allen's blood by taping down the New York Times Style section. I can just see him on his hands and knees making sure that everything is just so. And then I laugh at the idea of him actually doing that, because it seems so antithetical to who he is (the manual labor I mean). But it must just be part of that initial pre-murder frenzy of excitement.

So here is where I stumble -- that axe can do a lot of damage to a human being, as evidenced by the massive quantities of blood leaking from Paul Allen. So how has Patrick not completely chopped up his floor? How is his pretty blonde hardwood still intact? Or has he had parts replaced offscreen?

I do have to say that Paul Allen was kind of a pain in the neck (ho ho) and I'm not sad to see him go.

I know the whole thing is a commentary on how superficial the 80's were, especially on Wall Street in NYC -- but I find it perhaps...unintentionally funny. I mean..."Phil Collin's solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying in a …narrower way."

Anyway, I have to return some videotapes.

I can't think of a clever title

Having divergent musical tastes can be isolating. Shut up, I'm not whining that I'm so original. I'm whining because I don't know how to share something that I love so vehemently-- that makes my life so worth living--with other people. I think I've invested too much emotion into some of the shit I listen to. But...that's because I've basically felt like a goddamn orphan half my life. That's where I go to gain my equilibrium. Ugh, floodgates.

This always happens when I go see my doc. I get invaded mentally and physically. There was a needle in my arm, that's physical invasion, in case you were wondering. But then there's also the whole talking about why I'm stressed out and not able to sleep thing. Sigh. Pandora's box.

Some days I get out of class, put my headphones on, light a cigarette and just... feel how tired I am. I like to think about it in terms of technology, most people autopilot home. My autopilot corrupted a long time ago and has no proper coordinates. So effectively, every once in a while I stand in the middle of the sidewalk thinking about where the fuck it is that I'm going. I go through a roster in my head of the places I have gone -- having moved a lot, my mind passes by all the apartments in the east end, my mom's house, the apartment in Little Italy and then finally settles on where I am living now. Sometimes I forget and think about how I'm going to walk down to take the College streetcar, and then realize I'm wrong. What the fuck? I'm still not completely unpacked because once again this is a temporary location. It's one thing if you do it out of choice, if it's part of your career. Personally I wouldn't mind living a nomadic lifestyle as part of what I did for a living, but again, there's a certain grounded-ness I would be afforded by an income that would guarantee that I would have a home base. One of my own choosing, that I built for myself.

For me it's not quite a choice, I can't live with my mom and her husband, it's just not possible, for whatever reason.

Yet, right now my home base resides in the sound of my mother's voice and my laptop. Ridiculous, I know. But I have more, I guess I would call it faith for lack of a better word, in technology than I do in people. Or perhaps it's not faith, it's just reliance. Which can be bad in its own ways. Sahira was just reminding me "you also expect people to be more in touch with technology than they are" - a product of the fact that I myself am always plugged in. It's comforting. My inquisitive nature is satisfied by the instant gratification of being part of the wikipedia generation, which in turn pacifies the other unrest.

In a larger sense all of this writing that I'm doing is about trying to understand the human condition. My human condition. The success of most of which has to be based on communication, it has to be. To me the internet is probably one of the greatest catalysts for communication, you know other than actually talking to people in real life and stuff.

Fuck, I have digressed so much. But I think the point is that I've in a way replaced a large part of my life that should be a human component with...well...technology. I fear it's all just filling some horrible whiny Freudian void. Or Jungian. That sounds better.

I have several friends who would argue with me about this and say "no no no, you're horribly social and you have tonnes of friends". I do. But just because people are talking it doesn't mean they're communicating, or that they're listening.

Lately I've been doing a lot of listening. I think it's starting to dawn on me literally right now that maybe that's been bringing me down just a little bit. All the same I feel that in my eternal quest to understand myself better I can't shut the fuck up. Which can alienate everyone.

So sometimes I retreat and I get really otaku like about someone or some band, and it makes me feel a lot better -- it may not be healthy but it works. It's kind of like being in an English class and reading a novel and peeling back the layers of meaning. The stuff I listen to is imbued with so much a) the artists meaning and b) meaning I project on it to deal with my own shit. It's not like I expect people to take away that same experience, but man...sometimes there's just a segment that reaches a part of me that I can't explain and why wouldn't I want to share the awesome with someone else? However, I have yet to meet someone who feels the same way about one or two things I love or at least has that innate understanding for the need of it. Sometimes I wonder if that's asking too much. Probably.

Hey, I'm kind of like a snail now that I think about it.

Snails are cute, maybe I'll leave it at that for now.

my power weakens due to lack of yellow sun

I haven't been around here in a while. Mostly because I've been too busy being addicted to information. I swear to god, Google Reader is crack for people like me. I don't even know what that means because I don't know any people like me (read: crazy). This year has spun me around like a whirling dervish. It started out kinda good, then it got kinda bad -- lather, rinse, repeat. I would say from mid-July to around a couple of weeks ago was probably one of the most memorable periods of my life, hands down. Mostly because of the places I got to go and the people I got to meet, more on that later.

In the past day or two I've thought of several topics I'd like to address and the fact that I had somewhere near 70-ish posts last year and what feels like all of 3 this year really lit a fire under my ass. I mean maybe if I cranked my output to one a day from today until New Year's I could catch up, but not bloody likely. Anyway, I was all set to come home and write about oh I don't know, how I'm so happy that Kanye is self actualizing (I'm laughing at my self for the turn of phrase here), how twitter is the most awesome sauce in the world, how y'know, there's this dude whose writing I love and how I totally got to experience his awesome -- that kinda stuff. I was Speedy Gonzalez-ing to kind of a good end to a semi good (if long) day. I actually got to my first class on time (Prof seemed impressed), I picked up a book I needed to read, finished In the Skin of a Lion with notes, ate a pretty decently healthy lunch, had delicious and pretentiously named coffee, made an interesting observation in my CanLit class, blah blah.

And then somewhere on the way home it all went sideways, I got all tired and cranky. I felt completely out of my skin. Luckily a friend came over with wine and illicit books (illicit because I can't really read them until class breaks for Christmas) and restored some of my humanity.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that everything seems to be winding down. It gets dark really early and my fragile inner ecosystem/equilibrium (I'm being borderline sarcastic here people) is craving massive doses of sunlight and coming up short. The adrenalin high is over now and I'm going through some sort of experiential withdrawal. That's what winter seems to be all about. Man, bears know where it's at.

I think I'm trying to keep a light tone here because I actually feel quite meh about everything right now -- although to be fair it's 3am. I'm about to head to bed with E.M. Forster's Howards End. The reason I'm here though, why I couldn't wait until the sun came up (however feebly) is because I found something extra redeeming about my night.

Whenever I feel really really down in the dumps there's a certain URL I direct myself towards. It doesn't happen too often but it works. I won't tell you what it is, that would give away the surprise. The short of it however, is that somehow I was reminded of a conversation -- which I had conveniently archived (huzzah!) and as I went through it I got an idea for a short story. So I wrote all the dialogue down and I have a pretty good idea of what I want to do with it. I'm going to sneak an hour of poking at it into my plans tomorrow.

I'm tired, but also cautiously chuffed.

Dyson FTW

I'm a fan of bathing - of baths that is, because I tend to be a cleanly person. So here's my pickle - I live in a pretty cold house. Generally if I close the door and the windows tightly and make sure the hot water heater is full I'm pretty set, other than the fact that a) my bathtub is not long enough for me b) there's no goddamn tv in the bathroom. So I did all of that today. Except I've been using eucalyptus epsom salts (shut up I've been sick) and um...there's this odd effect. You know how...you eat a tic tac and breathe in and suddenly your mouth is super cold and stuff? Yeah. Think of that happening to your entire body as you get out of your really hot bath. #fail

It was worth it though, I was reading this awesome Nathaniel Hawthorne short story - Roger Malvin's Burial. That's usually why I take baths lately, because I need to read something and I find myself not being able to expend the focus.

So I'm standing on my bath mat shivering, and suddenly I think: hey Dyson, make an airblade. For my entire body!

I take my music way too seriously

So I'm going to fill it out here and hopefully people aren't horrendously annoyed by it. It's that whole 15 albums in 15 minutes thing so feel free to skip it, but it's something that is important to me and I may take more than 15 minutes to fill it out because well, I'm me.

1) Hello Nasty - Beastie Boys - the first album I ever bought, loved Intergalactic, still do -- I mean they namedrop Spock. Word.

2) Synkronized - Jamiroquai - one of the first albums I ever listened to all the way through, and he's an avid car collector, amazing dancer, and it just makes me wanna shake my ass, as it were.

3) Siamese Dream - The Smashing Pumpkins - I love Billy Corgan, he is such a dictator in his bands, I identify with his control freak tendencies. But that's not why I love this album, there are some really beautiful songs on there and some horribly sad ones, it got me through the first few years of high school and appealed to my inner goth (we all have one so shut up).

4) Lateralus - Tool - my initiation into probably the most influential and important band in my life, as y'all know from one of my previous posts. I don't think I need to say anything else.

5) De-Loused in the Comatorium - The Mars Volta - their first album. Niall played this for me the first time he ever came over to my house. The name had been bouncing around in my head for a long time before I listened to it. I loved it almost instantly. The first song that got stuck in my head was Eriatarka, and it still harkens back to that time. I can smell the snow in the air when I listen to it. But Cedric had me at the opening line of the first song "Clip side of the pink-eye flight/I'm not the percent you think survives/ I need sanctuary in the pages of this book"

6) Relationship of Command - At The Drive In - I didn't get into this album until fairly recently - my relationship with ATDI was almost contingent on my breakup, I started seriously considering their work near the end, and it sort of snowballed from there. Originally I was listening to This Station is Non Operational which is a compilation of their stuff. But Relationship of Command is where I really started appreciating Omar's musicianship. He says he hates the way the album is mixed but I just don't care. It's a seminal work. Anton Corbijn directed the video for Invalid Litter Dept. which is the inspiration for the name of my non existent second blog (registered, never used). One Armed Scissor - the third song and most commercially successful ATDI single is what this blog is named after - "self destruct sequence/ this station is non operational/ species growing/ bubbles in an iv loitering".

7) 808's and Heartbreak - Kanye West - I started listening to this almost as soon as it came out - and it's not necessarily the album itself that's important, but the surrounding occurrences. September 2008 was a schism in my life, and the first single was out and for some reason I started listening to Kanye. Also I had seen him on some sort of awards show and noticed him for the first time in my life. I always thought he had a weird name, one that I liked saying but now I realized that he was good looking, but more importantly, damn he dressed well. In a way I suppose I actively sought him out. I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that I liked listening to the album the whole way through. Then for some reason I went to his blog which I found hilarious, but it led me to something even better. 'Ye links to a lot of interesting things, one of which is highsnobiety, which led me to selectism, which in turn led me to Tony. So there are all sorts of amazing associations surrounding this album.

8) Amnesiac - Radiohead - it took me forever to get into Radiohead, or I should say it took me forever to finally listen to Radiohead, and the first song I ever really heard was I Might Be Wrong. Tracy (mom's friend's girlfriend's kid) downloaded it onto my laptop and then dragged me to their concert in Montreal. Radiohead is like that old comfortable sweater that you love and will never ever get rid of. And I mean that in the best way. I feel like there's nothing I can say about them because they're that good. Almost everyone accepts it. For good reason.

9) Raindogs - Tom Waits. Just watch Down by Law.

10) Return to Cookie Mountain - Tv on the Radio - Tunde Adebimpe, seriously, I love his voice. They're just ridiculous fun and have meaningful lyrics. I can dance to this album which is new-ish for me and I've found myself listening to them a lot in the past year or so.

11) Latin - Holy Fuck - I discovered this band thanks to Karis, we were in NYC because I bought tickets to go see Omar and the next day Karis dragged me to this show. I say dragged because I was being a sulky child. But I am so very happy that she did because the headliner was Holy Fuck (she wanted to see Indian Jewelry). There was some sort of instant chemical connect-- like love at first sight. I downloaded their albums as soon as I got home and dragged a friend to come see them in concert (again) immediately thereafter. They're from Toronto, lucky me! This album is currently in heavy rotation.

12) Xenophanes - Omar Rodriguez Lopez - everyone who knows me knows the name Omar, I don't even have to say the full name anymore, they just know. You've already seen his name in this post. He is half of the Mars Volta. He is a musical prodigy. A genius. This album is sung entirely in Spanish and the vocals are by Omar and his girlfriend Ximena Sarinana. It feels like a product of their love. That's the only way I can describe it. When looking in my iTunes top 25 played songs, the first five songs are all off this album. I will never get over it.

13) Medulla - Bjork - it is a vocal soundscape. The use of instruments is kept to a minimum. Guest stars include Rahzel and Mike Patton. It is at once incredibly simple and very complex. I think everybody should listen to this album at least once.

14) Station - Russian Circles - in the past few years I've been getting more and more into exclusively instrumental music. Russian Circles is a band I ran across on the SargentHouse website. I like to call my foray into this band a type of musical nepotism. Because in truth Omar belongs to that label. That's besides the point - these guys own. Seriously. I saw them at Sneaky Dee's when I was still living in Little Italy - I went alone, I stood beside the drummer during the entire opening act and didn't know it. It was hands down the best $12 I've ever spent on a semi random show. They shook my world and continue to do so on a daily basis, Harper Lewis is one of my favourite songs on this album and it is a sonic assault on my ears. But don't just take my word for it. GO!

15) Amputechture - The Mars Volta - the one Mars Volta album that I didn't listen to immediately when it came out. In fact I didn't listen to it until after The Bedlam in Goliath. I don't know why - I was afraid maybe. I have one word for all of you: Tetragrammaton.

So yes, that's it - it took forever. Hope it makes sense.

Halloween...

That's me in the background -- how was your night?

Stay Lit

I've been AWOL. You must forgive me - I've been living this incredible life for the past little while and I'm afraid of waking up and finding that it's all been in my head. Let me give you the reverse chronology of what has been happening, starting with the week I've had. I've been getting better at some things you see - levelling up so to speak, in Mario terms. About a week ago I did something incredibly out of character for me, an aberration. And I don't regret it- not one bit. The week following this has been a wide spectrum of feeling. Immediately thereafter I was feeling peaceful, calm and balanced. As the days passed it became less so and I started becoming that person I always had been - neurotic, cynical. So somewhere between my shower and getting dressed and going to class yesterday I decided to put an end to it. It happened, it was awesome, I wouldn't give it back, it is now out of my hands - so let's throw it all to the wind and say it is what it is and let it go. Regardless of how ridiculously strongly I feel about it. The idea that I can feel this way - that I am capable of it, is freeing.

I'm being intentionally obtuse because I feel a bit bittersweet but you know what? I'm only 25, there will be more of this I'm sure.

The reason I've not been here other than what I said previously is that in some ways this blog was dedicated to me working out my issues with ...well you know...that kid. That's done now. And I do still feel the need to write but - it's easier to write about harrowing adventures and misery than it is about happiness for me. But you know what? I had an adventure with Karis a few weeks ago - and it was awesome. We went to NYC -first time for me, second time for her. And it was a shit-show. Three days spent in Manhattan/Williamsburg and lots of running around. I mastered the subway almost immediately, not afraid to whip out a map whenever I felt like it. We packed a lot of stuff into three short days. Neither of us had gotten any sleep before we left and as Karis was getting ready and I was already waiting in the car complaining about being late for the ferry to the airport her dad asked "so what concert are you going to?" at which point (much like Bart Simpson realizing his permission slip for the awesome field trip was lying under his pillow) realized that my Omar Rodriguez Lopez tickets were sitting inside Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49 on my incredibly messy desk. And for the first time in 12 years I was glad that Karis had a tiny bit of a tendency to be late.

Stomping around Manhattan was fun after we had dropped our bags off - resting in Central Park and walking around 5th Ave., wondering why there were guys with earpieces walking around, envying the 13 year olds gathered around one of the exits of the park arguing about where they were going to go for a snack and which route they should take. Lucky. After Lego store (at which I picked up gifts for friends and took many pictures and repeatedly squealed with young-boy-ish delight) we decided to get food and head over to the show. The burger joint we stopped at was Bill's Burgers where the poutine was named "Disco Fries" and Karis not so subtly pointed out to Tony (who recommended the place) that as I ordered them I made a very 80's dance move. *facepalm* @ myself. But if I can't laugh at myself I may as well quit trying to live. I won't even try going into how incredibly amazing the Rodriguez Lopez Group concert was. Deantoni Parks is a master, a fucking drum master. I...there are no words. If there's anything close to a religious experience for me - this is it. This was it. This is one of those things in life that is worth trying to hold on to your existence for; this type of moment. Everything just clicks and suddenly life makes sense and everything is perfect.

Don't take my word for it.

I stocked up on Omar shirts and then skipped and sang all the way home on the hipster shuttle (the L train) with Karis and got home and dreamt of Omar and little dancing Cedrics all night (even though Ced wasn't there). Next morning we were going to meet Tony for the first time. Which is funny - because I had bought tickets to the concert first and this was a bonus, but I had realized (and noted to Karis and Karen), that really....I was more excited about this than the Omar thing. It turned out to be awesome. I mean TG's body of work speaks for him as a cool/interesting/stand up guy more so than mine does, but I was really really happy. Still am. We went to this ridiculously awesome little restaurant with fascinating seemingly original fixtures - the kind of place - had I lived in NYC would become my watering hole just because of the amazing light and a truly comfortable feeling. I used to feel that way about Tequila Bookworm before they moved. So we hung out, talked, I feel like we probably could have been there all day. We had to keep moving though because we had such a limited time.

Karis mentioned that there was a concert going on that night at Le Poisson Rouge - and I was somewhat tired and whiny - as I'm apt to be when I don't have enough alone time or time to digest and process everything I had just taken in. So we decided to go see this thing. On our way there we stopped at a cafe to have some sandwiches and beers and we bumped into a lovely young man named James Perkins - I couldn't help but notice he was reading the Fountainhead (which is one of my favourite novels) and we struck up a conversation. He's pretty interesting, into fashion, used to be in finance or something like that, and an outside correspondent for FOX, blah blah. He was very kind and funny and a delight. Gave me his card and told me to keep in touch. I found New Yorkers to be very friendly. So then we schlepped ourselves over to Poisson Rouge - turns out the opening band was Holy Fuck, from Toronto - and I fell in love. I do that a lot. They blew me away - and finally there's a Toronto band that I can feel excited about. (except for You Handsome Devil) They're interesting, dynamic, kinetic, creative, everything. We enjoyed ourselves, got a bit smashed (as it were) and danced up a storm (separately) because I don't like going in the pit area. The music they make - there's a feeling of it traveling through you on a molecular level, like neutrinos through everything, becoming part of you. We made our way home and then the next day we slept in and went to meet up with my friend Emile and Karis's friend Joanna in Greenwich Village. Stopped off and got some comics (om nom nom) and hung out all night long. It was a good end to a really good weekend. Emile was really funny - a sense of humour I could really relate to. And walking around NYC was a lot of fun. We didn't see all of the things I would have loved to see, but I got to visit New York at last and it started out with one incredible reason: seeing my favourite musician, and I left with a lifetime of amazing, happy, wonderful memories.

I think that's it for now.