symphonic myopic

I forgot that I had an alternate journal! I will talk about my shit here, and keep my other one strictly for art. That was the original plan, anyway. Derp, I'll clean these places up real soon.

In other news! Stuff that is actually really interesting is happening in Canadian politics right now. I will discuss my feelings on this later.

Maybe blogging will help.




... nope.


_


"Spam has existed since the advent of maps, though, at the time, it was entirely reversible."

I just thought of that while writing the other portion of this entry, and am quite proud of it.

... Why no one tell me I no funny?


_


Coincidentally, I was just reading an article about cancer, and the evolution thereof. Did you know that Tasmanian devils are projected to be extinct in the next 25 years (without human interference), due to a cancer that has learned to spread, like a virus, throughout the species? Contagious cancer. Chew on that one for a while.


_


Earth Hour 2008 is this Saturday, at 8 PM. I'm participating, because... Well, I'm not an environmental fanatic, and I don't know how much little things like this really do but... I don't know. If I can do something, why wouldn't I? I've also vowed to start turning my appliances off at the wall - because even a TV that's turned off is consuming power. I'm guilty of leaving my computer on at all hours, as well - another thing I intend to change. Because hey, not only does it help the environment, it also cuts the electric bill.

I had a dream that I made a watermelon and cucumber sorbet. Once the warm weather returns, I believe that I will do just that.

A splash of lemon juice, and a dash of... something. Black pepper, maybe. That'd do it.

Man, the opening act for the concert tonight was totally forgettable, but Tokyo Police Club. I mean. Wow.

Even with the sub-par sound systems of the bar/lounge at the school, they sounded way good. And the dude on the keyboards was like, so into it it's not even funny. He was amazing. Solid performance. Solid.

And the mosh pit was pretty much excellent, as like, 90% of the people there weren't actually trying to hurt anybody else. It was a fun cramming and jostling of bodies. And if someone started to fall, someone else would catch them. And if you smashed into a body guard, they frowned, but didn't really care. And at one point, a sissy slap-fight broke out between two of my buddies in the middle of mosh pit which was, like, epic. And people kept spilling their drinks all over each other. And it was just. Awesome.


Also, on the walk home, the lead singer was stopped in the passenger-side of a car at the intersection we were crossing. He plastered himself against the window and smiled a giant, doofy smile.


AWESOME.

Girls, quick question.

Pregnancy. Is this not something really... I don't know, obvious? Having a foreign body dwelling within you for nine months, this is... not exactly something that slips under the radar, hey?


...

Someone I know - a friend of mine, actually - gave birth two days ago.


And she had no. Idea. She. Was. PREGNANT.


Now, see. See. See. I actually have nowhere to go with this. How do you go from, "I feel kind of sick, bladder infection, blah blah," to "LOL HAVE SEVERELY UNDERDEVELOPED BABY, ISN'T THAT GREAT, SHE'S SO CUTE."

I am surrounded by more white trash than I can ever know what to do with. I can't fathom... I mean... I just can't wrap my head around how people can be this way? Somewhere in between my mom buying a pool from Wal-Mart and putting it in the front yard, to friends' families hanging roadkill deer from trees in their yard for some good eatin' later, to friends HAVING FUCKING BABIES AND SOMEHOW NOT NOTICING YOU ARE PREGNANT HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW I MEAN REALLY. REALLY. She. Didn't even noticed that her water broke and that she was in labour. TV tells me that this is NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN REALLY MISS.

And the kicker is, she was smoking/drinking/DOING FUCKING ECSTASY all throughout the pregnancy! I can't even! I don't even! I! What! When I think about this poor, undeveloped, probably fucked-up baby, I feel... I feel sick. Absolutely nauseated.



Uh. So, if you have half a brain to spare, please join the VHEMT today!

Today of days, a bizarre occurrence - a dizzy spell, without prompt or reason, during an exercise in life-drawing.

Feeling suddenly unwell, I made an attempt to gather my thoughts, but it was too late. The room spun, and, feeling nauseated, I silently made a straight line for the door.

Just up the hall was the restroom, but my vision was going fast. I narrowly avoided people, dark stains against the light. against the light, trying to maintain my composure. My hearing turned to static - auditory memory of the event is non-existent beyond the fuzz of a detuned radio. Just inside the washroom, and to my horror, both stalls were occupied. Why was it so busy? I blanked, crouched, touched the floor with both hands, seeking support. My mind blacks out.

The next thing I knew, I was walking back to class. "No," I told myself, "No, not yet. You're not well." I pause in the hallway, considering. The dizziness is fading. Should I just go get a drink and set down for a few minutes? Another quick surge of illness answers the question for me. I head back to the washroom, where all that remains are a few guys washing their hands. I enter the stall, and wait. It's hot here - I remove my sweatshirt. Still, waiting.

It eventually subsides, without any sort of messy side-effects. I wash my hands and face, and use my sweatshirt as a towel. The next step is obvious; I need to get something to drink. And iced tea is my answer, as it will both hydrate and provide sugars. I make it to the store and purchase the drink without incident. Halfway back to the class, I pause to sit and drink half of it. Still not feeling well, I make the decision to go to the studio instead, where I can leave my shirt and drink before returning to class.

Once in the studio, I sit and wait at least another fifteen minutes. I eventually resolve to go back to class - what sort of impression have I made on the new teacher, leaving for so long without notice? Not long after my return, an official break is called. I sit outside with a friend, and we smoke.

Not half an hour later, it's as if the entire incident had never occurred.


Seriously. What was that all about?

nanya,



SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP



>:[



love,
Liam.


PS - Seriously, you've got some wicked talent. Shut the fuck up.

For all of those near to me that have had to face tragedy in the last two weeks - my sincerest respect and condolences, and best of wishes to those that are still fighting.




Happy N-n-n-n-new Years, guys.

(overhead, the albatross hangs motionless upon the air)

Pink Floyd :: Echoes


(we'll say good-bye to flesh and blood)

Peter Gabriel and Robert Fripp :: Here Comes the Flood


(the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls)

Simon and Garfunkel :: The Sounds of Silence

Last One Standing has finally come to its conclusion - a week earlier than I anticipated, which is both nice and... kind of depressing, because now I have nothing to watch next week.

I've been following the entire series online, as the station decided to officially release it there, and it's been awesome. On some of the really hard, late nights of this year, I'd remember that I hadn't seen the week's episode yet, and have something to occupy my time with. There'll be another season, but they'll be shooting it over the next year, so I have no idea when to expect it to be aired. I suppose it'll be this time again next year, really, but lord knows how long it takes to edit the footage.

I really liked the show because... well, for a ton of reasons. For one, I consider myself extremely competitive and aggressive, so it definitely appealed to that side of my nature. At the same time, it was really cool to see all of the tribes that were visited, along with all the different kinds of sports that each was practising. When I first saw the show, I was under the impression that all of the challenges would be physical fights - I was wrong, of course, as there were also a variety of endurance races, as well as a bizarre game of cricket.

Early on, I hated Jason, and thought Corey was a total ninny. Corey is still a bit of a ninny, but definitely has way more ability and mental endurance than I could ever come near, and Jason is way more tolerable than he used to be. Rajko was awesome, as were Brad and Mark, but I'd be a liar if I said I hadn't been hoping for Richard to take the win. I guess it's the "cheer on the little guy" mentality.

Still, I'm satisfied with the way the series ended. Heck, I'd even buy it on DVD, if only to see all that cool lifestyles/combat again.

Using Sendspace, so the files won't be up forever. Get 'em while they're hot!

They be GONE. Use links to go to artists webpages instead.

Andrew Bird

Heretics :: 8.1 MB / 3:34
Fake Palindromes :: 3.9 MB / 2:53

I'd like to just call his music "modern folk", but Wikipedia seems to insist that it's indie/folk rock. Which I guess is the same thing. It's nice stuff, this. Just as mellow as to be expected, as it is folk, although some of his songs can branch from the folk sound quite a bit, such as Opposite Day.

Other Recommended Songs:
Fiery Crash
A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head To the Left

andrewbird.net


Belle and Sebastian

Waiting for the Moon to Rise :: 2.9 MB / 3:12

Scottish indie pop. Actually has seven band members, none of which are named Belle or Sebastian. Actually a very popular band, but I never listened to any of their music until recently, so I'm making base assumptions that many others have also missed out. Nice stuff, easy-going.

Other Recommended Songs:
If You're Feeling Sinister
Seeing Other People

belleandsebastian.com


Scala and the Kolacny Brothers

Heartbeats (Originally Performed By The Knife) :: 4.1 MB / 2:58

Belgian girls' choir with piano accompaniment - all they do is covers of other (usually quite popular) artists. I haven't found anything by them I like nearly so much as this, but I do get a good laugh out of watching their conductor. He's just so enthusiastic.

kolacny.com


Sunset Rubdown

Shut Up I Am Dreaming of Places Where Lovers Have Wings :: 10.3 MB / 7:23
Swimming :: 5.1 MB / 3:42

Indie rock from Montréal. My first impression of was "Hm, sounds like Wolf Parade," and as it turns out, I was right - it's the same singer/songwriter/keyboardist, Spencer Krug. So I guess, if you like Sunset Rubdown, you'd probably also like Wolf Parade, and vice versa. Both bands have an almost eerie quality to their sound, in my opinion - probably as a result of Krug's voice, combined with the compositions. Swimming is an excellent example of what kind of sound Wolf Parade and Sunset Rubdown have to offer.

sunsetrubdown.net

Other Recommended Songs:
We Got Broken Eyes (Sunset Rubdown)
Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts (Wolf Parade)
Fancy Claps (Wolf Parade)

Swelling is only a good thing in reference to music and emotion.


Sometimes I wish I could see my own skeleton, or examine my own organs. To step outside of myself, and look at every inch of me as someone else, inside and out.


Sometimes I'm scared that I'd like me way too much.




Sometimes I think that this shit's too emo. But hey, that's what alternative blogs are for, right? I know the intent is always positive, but I really don't think it comes across that way. Thank god there's no emo police, elsewise I'd be baton raped from here to China by now.

I don't know why I bother smoking while I have this cold. I can't taste or feel anything. Am I even inhaling? I don't know. May as well save some money and wait for my sinuses to clear up.

_


Please, remember me...
Iron & Wine
eloquent graffiti
"don't look down"
bruised chins
and a rush

_


How to not live-
As you want to live
As you want to be seen
As they want you to be
But how you want to be
Remembered...

(Cigarette dangling from mouth, eyes distant, but not unkind. Stopping by the park on the way home, to play on the swings for a while. Reckless, dancing down the sidewalks, singing and laughing, darting and weaving, but only between 2 and 5 in the A.M. A passionate and adolescent appreciation of music and storytelling. Blatant disregard to the prejudicial opinions of others. Lying in the grass. Jumping in puddles. Standing in a downpour. Casting off sobriety for the hell of it. Appreciating variety in colour and form. A fondness of cuisine. Mildly abrasive. Exuberant. Cunning. Dark. Loyal. Awkward. Content.)

Fondly, if you please.

We sat outside on a cold September evening, and talked about failed relationships, laughing all the while. We'd stuff our faces with McDonalds, and then make gourmet hot chocolates, with cream, marshmallows, cinnamon and chocolate sauce, all the while quietly sucking away on cigarettes.

When the sun was gone, we would retreat from the cold, and say our farewells to the guests. Then, to the den, for a few colourful games of scrabble, with "feces" and "cunt" intersecting near the bottom of the board. The points didn't matter. One person wouldn't play, but instead ate sushi beside me.

"What are those little red things?"

"Fish eggs."

"... Oh."

A few night before, I had sat on the front porch with a self-labelled dyke, smoking her smokes, and commenting on how the sky had cleared up. We watched the stars for a minute or two.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to be single."

"You're happy? Really? You're over it?"

"These past two weeks have been the best I've had in six years. I can't recall ever been so happy."

"That's good to hear," she'd say, and then we'd snuff the butts, and meander back into the house.