Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Your Reality is Showing

 Here's some stuff written around some quotes I found on the internet that I thought were pretty great.  I have no idea if they are accurately quoted or attributed, and I don't much care.  Also, it has been pointed out that if I handed this in to a grade school teacher, they would chastise me for having too many quotes and not enough substance.  I hated school.

The television, that insidious beast, that Medusa which freezes a billion people to stone every night, staring fixedly, that Siren which called and sang and promised so much and gave, after all, so little.” - Ray Bradbury, 'The Golden Apples of the Sun'

When television was invented, it was a big deal. Everybody had grand visions of its seemingly infinite possibilities. What an enormous step in the annals of humanity!

Philo began laying out his vision for what television could become. Above all else... television would become the world's greatest teaching tool. Illiteracy would be wiped out. The immediacy of television was the key. As news happened viewers would watch it unfold live; no longer would we have to rely on people interpreting and distorting the news for us. We would be watching sporting events and symphony orchestras. Instead of going to the movies, the movies would come to us. Television would also bring about world peace. If we were able to see people in other countries and learn about our differences, why would there be any misunderstandings? War would be a thing of the past.” - Evan I. Schwartz, The Last Lone Inventor

Philo was none other than Philo T. Farnsworth, ostensibly the inventor of television. His high hopes were subsequently dashed, however, as demonstrated by his policy on television in his home as summated by his son, Kent: "There’s nothing on it worthwhile, and we’re not going to watch it in this household, and I don’t want it in your intellectual diet."

Sunday, November 20, 2011


I swear like a motherfucker. At least, I presume a motherfucker would swear quite a bit. What's he got to lose? Certainly not his dignity or social standing (Cue angry letters pointing out sensitive origin of the term). All right, more like a trucker. Or sailor (Cue indignant responses from legions of wholesome truckers and sailors). Anyway, I swear a fuck of a lot, and I don't understand why people give a shit. Well, not being a complete idiot, I understand the arguments. I just don't buy them. Except, perhaps, the one that points out that the more you swear, the less power those words will hold. Which brings me to my point: These words should not hold the power to shock anyone.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Everything is Broken

My kid decided to break his arm on the first day of summer vacation. That sucked. I met him and his mother at emergency and after a short wait he was x-rayed and put into a cast by the emergency room doctor, a smooth operator who appeared to be a cross between Matthew McConaughey and Owen Wilson. He assured us that although it was clear from the x-ray that the bones were not quite aligned, we'd be surprised how quickly he healed and that before long it would be impossible to tell that it had ever been broken at all.

Before long, we were back at the hospital preparing for our son to undergo a procedure to realign the bones in his arm. We dressed him in his funny dress with the open bottom, covered him in weird creams and stickers, discussed everything that was about to happen and reassured him that it was all going to be fine. Once he was appropriately terrified at his immediate prospects, we were informed that since had had ingested apple juice that morning, he would need to wait a couple of hours before it would all go down.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Workin' in a World of Men – Buddy

We tell you what's cool, then play it 'til you like it!”

So I work with Buddy. Buddy listens to the same shit radio station every goddam day. Modern Rock. Fucking garbage, blasting me in the face at full volume, 7 hours a day, five days a week. Thank god he comes in an hour later than I do. Thirty five hours a week I'm forced to listen to the same irredeemable audial waste over and over and over and over and over and over. It's like I'm living the movie 'A Clockwork Orange', only my ears are pried open and someone's pouring shit in them.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Man's Best Friend Part 2

People think I hate dogs. This may have something to do with the fact that I'm always bitching about dogs (See what I did there? I'm so proud.). But nothing could be further from the truth.

Well, actually, I guess there are probably quite a few things further from the truth than that. (Does the word 'further' seem like the deformed hillbilly brother of the word 'farther' to you?) The truth is, I'm not as big a fan of dogs as I used to be. When I was a kid, I had a succession of really great dogs, and they were my best friends in the world, to be sure. I would go so far as to say that I am a better person for having known them, and that my quality of life as a child and a young man was greatly enriched by their companionship. And I suppose if I had a place to live that I felt had enough room for a dog to live comfortably, I would have me a dog. So really, I don't hate dogs. Not by a long shot.

I just hate your dog.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

It's What's Between The Buns That Counts!

I just got back from the local Dairy Queen. I like to take my kids there. They have an old jukebox that plays 45's and they change them up sometimes. There's a big display case full of memorabilia and movie props from the 50's. One wall of the place has blowups of pages from a local 1950's highschool yearbook and pictures of the owner of the place meeting the Beach Boys. Almost every time I go there I get served by the same old German woman who always gets my order wrong, even after we go over it three times. All in all, a pretty cool place for a fast food joint.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Project Garth

This post is basically just me stealing something from a friend of mine. I just felt the whole thing needed to be given new life, because when it was happening it was one of the strangest, most bewildering and hilarious things I have ever been privy to.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

On The Road

On the road to Woss.

Lucky Lager, CCR's Green River, 300 metres above sea level, March, 12 inches of snow, three dudes, white truck, trailer full of random shit. Rock and roll is still alive here - the Kinks shout it out of the ipod loud and bratty, snotty fuckers blaze a trail down the graywhite highway heading north on Vancouver Island. Work trucks pass us at 140 km an hour, lucky loggers done for the day and heading for the good times down the road. Down the road the RCMP blaze by us at Sayward junction, heading for the donuts - they always get there, man.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Tiny Montgomery Clift

This is a story about a dog named Tiny Montgomery Clift. Tiny Montgomery Clift was the luckiest dog in the world. He was the luckiest dog in the world because he got to spend every day with all of his very best friends. His very best friends were all very weird dogs who walked around on their hind legs most of the time, and had a lot of weird hobbies. Tiny Montgomery Clift loved them just the same. His weird dog friends spent most of their days walking in the forest, chanting bizarre incantations and examining the trees very intently. Tiny Montgomery Clift loved to walk, and the forest was full of the most wonderful sticks. Tiny Montgomery Clift loved sticks very much. His weird very best friends also seemed to love sticks, as they had some sticks they carried with them everywhere they went through the forest. Strangely, though, they never asked him to throw the sticks for them to chase, nor did they offer to throw the sticks for him to chase. This struck Tiny Montgomery Clift as very odd. If he could walk on two legs, he thought, he would only stop throwing sticks long enough to chase them.