Notes

Found these notes on my dresser:

Joy leading to melancholy
(love meets the law)

The void of incomparable beauty
(resisting the attack)

Wish I could remember what I meant when I wrote them down before falling asleep thinking that the information in the brackets would clarify things later.

Facebook Profile Status Updates

The secret to coming up with the best Facebook Profile Status Updates is having children. If you tend to accept everyone's request for friendship on Facebook, eventually you end up with hundreds of friends, representatives from every social circle in which you have ever participated. Coming up with a witty Profile Status Update that can harmoniously fit into each and every one of these circle's politico-ethical dynamics (which isn't predominantly sarcastic or ironic) is no easy task. But I've met one individual who incorporates their daily interactions with their children into their Updates and each and every time it's Facebook Profile Status Update gold! Hence, while I've never really wanted to have children, now I'm considering it, in order to simplify an arduous part of my life.

If I told him the truth I'd say: "you strike me as someone who places a sincere degree of thought into each and every action, generally prepared and therefore better equipped to deal with particular disruptions, someone who is disciplined and focused, determined and prolific, knowledgable and resilient, never backing down from a necessary confrontation and possessing a percipient intellect capable of judging which confrontations are indeed necessary. Hence, although I disagree with you, I'm too full of awe and respect to voice my objection, and would rather listen to your sweetly flowing defence than contradict it with my youthful spirit."

Thank You

If you're tired of people looking at you strangely when you give them a card as a sign of your appreciation, just keep all the cards indicating your appreciation in a pile which will consistently remind you of all the people you appreciated throughout your life.

Thought

Moments to reflect
between things which must be done
are beyond value.

And as I sat and listened seconds turned into hours and hours into months, her scattered, energetic, passionate reflections, made emphatically in the heat of the moment, intense yet insubstantial, valuable yet hollow, the moment often lasting for three or four days, took on an ethereal quality, and I realized that I had come to enjoy her fictional ramblings more intently than many of the sober pronouncements I heard declared throughout the course of a day, and wondered if it wasn't better for her to continually come up with plans rather than following them through, and that if her artistry lay within the creation of these plans, breathing in the fluctuating nature of life's contradictory rhythms, concealed and prolific, as I fell in love.

I'd like to see an extended skit wherein a straight jock is busted talking to his cat in an effeminate manner by a gay man who consequently rebukes him, calling him gay. The argument lasts a solid 15 minutes as the heterosexual superjock vehemently defends homosexuality and the gay man vindictively critiques it. The camera zooms in on the cat and a television playing NFL football as they start to make out.

Nikita

Plans eagerly made
day after day creative
intense decisions.

Opinions mentioned
defended like staunch portents
of lucidity.

Sequestered passion
reaches for stationary
docile allegiance.

Winds change drinking one
more for the road reception
confused and comic.

Breakfast

Beat down crying out
logic, foresight, assistance
meets hung over youth.

Water Cooler

Morally astute
douche bag reflects and lectures
about normalized
conduct liberally.

Capitalism

Manager X finds themself in situation K where things are running smoothly. Yet manager X needs to change things in order for their CV to keep progressing. Manager X does change things which disrupts situation K's harmony. Staff quit, customers are confused, Manager X is promoted.

When someone loans you something, it's your duty to tell them you are going to steal it, thereby never giving it back, in order to put their nerves at rest for they will then know that their item will one day be returned.

Sometimes it's not frustration with what's going on but frustration with having to appear frustrated with what's going on.

Had twenty minutes between engagements last Thursday with little time to spare. And what does my roommate hook me up with?, but a heaping plate containing two new salads she's trying out for the summer. Fit perfectly into my schedule. Talk about a great roommate.

Finding Farley

Leanne Allison's latest documentary Finding Farley provides brief glimpses into an epic journey across Canada, as Allison, life partner Karsten Heuer, two-year-old son Zev, and adventurous dog Willow travel from Canmore, Alberta, to Cape Breton. Their purpose is to meet Farley Mowat who has invited them to visit his summer home. Little did he know that after sending the invitation, they would canoe from Canmore to Hudson's Bay, travelling many of the same routes chronicled in People of the Deer and Never Cry Wolf, before taking a train to Québec and then sailing the rest of the way. They exchange letters via snail mail throughout within which Heuer oddly brings up the critical controversies surrounding Mowat's work while highlighting the ways in which they relive his colourful tales. It's fun watching the family interact with one another as pesky Zev spots beavers and owls and the voyage's physical demands test their will power. If Heuer (Being Caribou, Walking the Big Wild) is indeed inheriting Mowat's legacy, he's definitely proving his mettle, and it's a shame Allison didn't include more footage of the time her family spends with the Mowats during Finding Farley's final moments. A simultaneous homage to Mowat's work and forecast of Heuer and Allison's future, Finding Farley presents a filmic family friendly adventure deep into Canada's literary wilderness, pastorally illuminating a symbolic changing of the guard.

Teddy bear grenade.
Assessing assessment.
Transaction traction.
Scrunchity scrunch.
Airlifted.
A smurf and Ronald Weasley discuss the force over Romulan ale.
Microscopic miscommunication.
Cats are better than dogs. Explain why. Your answer will remain valid for 27 days.
The winged tortoise.
Beat heart, beat.
My backpack is full of stones.
Coyote, cougar, kitten.
The wind blows the cherry off your sundae, into your nose, and it’s stuck there for 3.7 years.
Turnip berries.
Headphones, mercenaries, and filibusters.
Have the concepts “political” and “ethical” been masculinised and feminized respectively?
A non-scientific story/myth explaining the presence of the sun/rain/gravity.
The Cold. The bitter, bitter, cold. (Non-scientific responses please).
You are a spy caught in a tricky situation. The only tools you have are a toothpick, pop can, and remote control.
A treaty has been signed.
Whiskers.
Alpine Touring.
The Oil Sands.
Jubilation.
The solution is found thanks to ice cream.
Terrorist at the Olympics falls in love.
Cheese, melted.
Horned-Grizzly-Bears.
Mitigated misfortune.
There is a bloody knife sticking out of a tree below which lies a ham on rye sandwich. A family of elk is nearby.
Superman and Wolverine have both fallen for Batgirl and Batman turns out to be Winston Churchill.
You are a quilt.
You place a pizza in the oven in order to bake it and out pops a surly leprechaun.
A black bird singing in the dead of night.
H1N1. Realistic threat or manufactured monstrosity?
Genetically modified foods: disturbingly delicious?
The Horn of Plenty.
Empty carriage.
Slivers, splinters, sentiments.
Motivation.
Make the right call.
Resisted impulse.
It’s simply recreational.
Poetical mathematics.
Renegade potato.
PAC – This acronym stands for something secret which is itself a code name for something mainstream.
A Horned-Grizzly-Bear meets Cinderalla.
Re-established retrograde resilience.
Synergy.
Resolve, restate, resign.
That was a bad idea.
Psychic cat who can’t talk.
You’re a doctor of letters diagnosing medical problems with poetry.
I spent to much time thinking about ethics and wound up broke.
Can’t get rid of this itch.
Birds of a feather.
Despotic deadline.
Horned-Grizzly-Bear takes on a post-apocalyptic Santa.
Summer days, summer nights.
Love at first bite.
Metropolitan meltdown.
Your parents named you Sparkle. You are upset.
Your novel is now famous; however, the most influential critics misunderstood your fundamental purpose. What do you do?
You’re trying to develop a new personality but your friends are intent on treating you as they did before. What do you do?
You’re a communist who can’t stand people.
Your favourite super heroes have living parents and they’re beatniks. Describe a typical outing during which the super hero becomes frustrated.
Two dates at the same time.
Electrical outlets as a metaphor for pulsation.
Technological nature/naturalistic technology.
Bears can talk. You are a bear. You are talking.
You are responsible for developing a Federal approach to language legislation within a multilingual country. What do you do?
Your are a film reel who can be recycled and are tired of being used for kitsch that doesn’t have a camp punch.
Micromanaging.
Coffee, a walk to the park, and then . . .

It's often really dumb people who accuse others of being stupid because people have been treating them like they're imbeciles for their entire life.

It's often easier to allow people who are lying to get away with it because of the effort it takes to unravel their plot and the fact that you're then playing into their speculative hands. I suppose this is what they want, however, although the crafty ones would likely rather play out their defence. As you annoy them by not taking their story seriously while believing it, they annoy you by concocting increasingly elaborate farces the acceptance of which may have severe social and professional consequences. It comes down to who is the most stubborn, the lazy gatekeeper or the silver-tongued patron, and who can hold firm to their determined constitution more deviously, the winner producing a virtuous act or a dedicated employee.

It blows when in order to keep things interesting you have to engage in activities which seemed ridiculous at the outset but have now become necessary as you desperately search for things to do. This is why a lot of sequels/third seasons etc. don't work while occasionally working exceptionally well.

So far, I've had three encounters with the startling clerk working at the local gas station. During the first, I felt like I hurt her feelings by cutting the conversation short, as so many customers must do throughout the course of her day, and left feeling guilty. After the second, I left feeling awkward, for she tried to cut the conversation short, I missed her cue, and prolonged it ineffectually. But today, we had a short warm and friendly chat which ended perfectly, neither to short nor to long, which felt great, not that I think about these kinds of things (I think that's my cue to never enter her store again).

The Wolfman

Joe Johnston's recasting of the classic Wolfman legend wantonly howls while slashing and thrashing, but its romantic subplot can't effectively counterbalance its vicious nature due to the lacklustre execution of its sentimental content. A father and son known as Sir John (Anthony Hopkins) and Lawrence Talbot (Benicio Del Toro) are set up in opposition. Sir John is a macho patriarch while his estranged son is an contemplative actor, the two excelling in their chosen roles. When Lawrence discovers that his brother has been savagely murdered, he swears vengeance, and recklessly pursues the unidentified killer, only to wind up bitten by the beast and condemned by both the local gypsies and reverend (Roger Fisk) alike. His brother's betrothed (Emily Blunt as Gwen Conliffe) reminds both Lawrence and Sir John of Solana Talbot (Cristina Contes), wife and mother, which serves to further complicate matters. As Lawrence falls for Gwen, their dialogue becomes increasingly saccharine even though Lawrence is a famous Shakespearean actor and likely used to expressing himself eruditely. Since she reminds him of his mother, it makes sense that his education and experience would be misplaced in her presence as he slips into a childish state consequently. However, this reason doesn't legitimize the dialogue, it merely points out that logical depth can't trump banal posturing unless the irony sustaining their relationship can be artistically cultivated, i.e., banal lines that seem superficial at first but reveal hidden semantic currents upon further reflection. Sir John is maniacal and revels in his son's incarceration, gleefully basking in their familial discomfort. The horror is therefore composed of both carnal and psychological elements, apprehensively destabilizing any attempts at a rapprochement between father and son. But The Wolfman's infantilized romantic inclinations troublingly traumatize its terror, and arguably suggest that such a lack of congruity is where the film's transformative powers reside.

We travelled lethargically through the construction having satisfied specific cinematic curiosities before returning home. Once again no Grizzly Bears adorned our path. A cup of organic coffee gingerly swathed my taste buds with a delicate flavour cultivated in the Guatemalan Highlands during many temperamental seasons. A laugh, a giggle, bursting with an appropriately energetic rhythm, stylistic, pithy, and staunch. I reasoned (correctly) that we were 7 minutes from our destination. The evening proved to be improvised and eventful.

A lot of people can only figure out problems to which they know the answer.

Mixed up 'cupidity' with 'quiddity' the other day.

My mistake.

Shutter Island

Condensing dream sequences, identity (de)mystifications, psychiatrical polarizations, and traumatic war related manifestations into a staggered, disorienting psychological thriller, Martin Scorsese's Shutter Island invigorates and interrogates the traditional detective film. Federal Marshals Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) are on the beat, sent to the Ashecliff Hospital for the criminally insane to track down a missing patient. Located on Shutter Island, this isolated mental institution is reserved for violent criminals whom Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley) does his best to humanely treat. Provided with limited access to the resources necessary to conduct their investigation, Daniels and Aule do their best to take advantage of organizational loopholes while restrainedly exchanging professional courtesies. A graveyard, a storm, witnesses living in caves, and a healthy supply of cigarettes keep their attention focused, while clues lead to questions followed by riddles and conundrums. Daniels's past haunts him throughout as he digs deeper and deeper, valiantly attempting to subjectively recalibrate his object. The heart of the matter harrowingly pulsates, as personal veins and institutional arteries enigmatically transmit their heuristic fluid.

Tough to craft a mainstream thriller that doesn't come across as hackneyed. In Shutter Island, Scorsese successfully infuses his subject with suspense while cultivating a paranoid, disillusioned aesthetic. Many of the scenes stand on their own and the coherent whole they eventually establish benefits from their gritty individualism. The paranoia is often moderately ridiculous and the dream sequences drag and would have benefitted from a more clandestine form of surrealism. The performances are strong, skillfully utilizing Laeta Kalogridis's hardboiled dialogue which diligently and effectively delineates their characters (Mark Ruffalo stealing the show). The ending suggests that means are more important than ends and objectively salutes tenacious innovative thinkers for attempting to remodel professional paradigms. But the ends are still distressing and I can't help but wonder if they reflect Scorsese's own fears regarding his attempts to rearrange the genre's conventions.

The Timekeeper

52 days, 52 miles of track. A labour camp deep in the Canadian wilderness, far away from any representatives of law and order. Within, Louis Bélanger's The Timekeeper presents a wanton battle of wills between two opposing viewpoints, one, that of a brutal manager, i.e. "let's get the job done, quit whining and do as I tell you," the other, that of a worker, who tries to honestly and loyally stick up for the rights of his companions. Sooner than later, the worker (Craig Olejnik as Martin Bishop) is relieved of his duties and forced to feed off garbage scraps while encouraging his fellow outcasts to engage in acts of subversion (which include doing a good job). The ideals built into the film's dialectic are populated with secondary characters who deconstruct its attempts to depict one side as absolutely correct, and The Timekeeper's climax suggests that personal integrity requires a firm constitution to remain resolute after being thoroughly beaten down by the powers that be. Cast out, resourceless, starving, and scared, Martin Bishop has only his wits and his belief in right and wrong to psychologically finance his activities, and no matter how successful, still must submit to Fisk's (Stephen McHattie) order of things. Occasionally maudlin while remaining provocative, Bélanger's vision pastorally elucidates the pressures confronting vocal critical dispositions, and doesn't pacify the hard times facing those who possess them. Complete with dynamic shots of Canada's boreal forest (cinematography by Guy Dufaux), and a reverberating soundtrack which enriches its aesthetic, Bélanger's film suggests that authority (age) is indeed in control, while employees (youth) must suck it up or deal with the (potentially elevating) consequences. Financial stability, individual sincerity, or a lifestyle somewhere in between? S'pose it's all just a matter of how one keeps their time.

Have never used hair gel or spray. The twenty minutes required to figure out the related application basics are temporal units which have not been negotiated (by me). I prefer showering before going to sleep at night and then waiting to see what kind of bed head I wake up with the next day. The most prominent bed heads don't have to be washed out with a torrential spray of lukewarm bathwater, as if a divinity has taken note of my lackadaisical plan and consequently denoted that occasionally the following day will be filled with prosperity, creating a resplendent analytical fashion statement which is unique for the corresponding time period.

I like staring at my reflection in the barbeque while it's raining.

If you're interested in learning how a poem sounds you should read it to someone who doesn't speak your language well and see if they like it.

Effective song writing is a corporealized and profitable emotional investment.

The Grizzly Manifesto: In Defence of the Great Bear.

Alkali

A scale is balanced, perforated,
pressing, nestling, jointed, jaded,
its colours rich, its textures stale,
a residue left toxic, nailed.

The sky with pupil, iris, veins
searches, perches, sits, and strains,
to rediscover language, diction,
blocks and talks and quaint depictions

While diametric polished stains
remind it of its rival's pains
a seed which shot forth scars and tissue,
all wound up, a coiled Malishu

Dark and sombre penetrates
unleashed secretive styles and traits
forlorn medieval lightning strike
vicious little peevish pike

With central focus, towered, nested,
sprightly forecast, near, abreasted,
talents subtle, features woven,
crested vested foresight owing

To the gifts of scintillating
silent sequences debating
crafts and laughs, a retinue,
of corrugated rustic hues

Are dining, lining silver plates,
litigants and perks and stakes,
solemn prizes, bows and ribbons,
resting, testing, knowledge given.

Onwards then to caverns dusted,
portraits pens and reasons rusted,
past the river, the viaduct,
a photograph kept neatly tucked

Inside a list of things to come,
of pleasures, measures, joys the strum
of melodies kept firmly tuned and
resonant with bright festoons

A needle resting in a lap,
strung with servile blessed facts,
dex'trous, agile, flaunt, maneuver,
bold incarnate gilded rumours

Daylight breaks, the sun's in place,
resplendent rays shine forth and trace
the outlines 'cute of living beings
who've been reborn to dance and lean

With one foot forward, two foots, four,
measured, treasured, viewed, explored,
for daily stages, pither patter,
shovels, gloves, and earthen matter.

Toil and trucks and pastures seen
surreal and plastered evergreen,
a daisy, petals, bumblebees,
sweetened, viscid pleasantries

Alone with then, this thing to tell,
to all and one, the divine swell,
of scents and tastes and pretty things
with postulated putterings

Which glide through Klem, all day, all night,
and keep the tale elastic, tight,
with moments spare and bites contrary,
juicy, moistened ripe blueberries

Blossom in the summertime
in Nordic, Doric, boreal climes,
a hike up to the Mountain's view
to sit and think and smile anew.