Wednesday, April 24, 2002

It always starts this way; with a simple admission, an innocent remark that "mistakes may have been made". There is no doubt the truth will be revealed, but it is doubtful there will be anything done about it. Not with Dubya looking out for his dad's friends.

Come on France, you can do better than this.

As for me, well life in corporate servitude continues. This job is so boring, yet I get up every day and can't wait to do it. It must be that how well I work has a strong correlation with how much money I make. As that famous 1980s chanteur said,
this position i hold

it paves my way but it corrodes my soul

i must leave here, i must go quickly

i want to go down in celluloid history

Alright then. Too jacked up on late afternoon coffee to get any thoughts processed right now. My Aeron chair has been returned to it rightful owner and now I am back in my spine crunching, circulation-blocking stool.

Right then.

Thursday, April 18, 2002

Ahh yes... all that technology on the American side can't compensate for their grade 2 educations. And these are our friends?

Saturday, April 13, 2002

Although I am repulsed by the vapid writing in Leah McLaren's columns, I am drawn to it every Saturday, if only to remind myself how ahead I am of whatever curve she is describing. I am not alone in this strange repulstion/attraction. My wife read it once, (I think it was the column on black maxi-pads) and asked why I would waste 3 minutes every Saturday reading something that annoyed me. "But it's only to make myself feel cooler. By reading about someone else try to define what is cool, I can feel cooler if I have already identified, assessed and judged the trend in question as coo/uncool. The point is that I know about it before she writes about it."

What repulses me is that she acts like my little sister did when stealing my Grateful Dead tapes, or my cigarettes, or weed. Suddenly something is cool, but it is cool for my younger sister, (read "the masses") and then I have to wonder if I really want to stay attached to this cultural item.

She particulary enraged me with her recent piece on Ali-G, and the Queen Mum "getting" hip-hop. It's a spoof, the Queen Mum got it, but would Americans, she asks. This is her nudging attempt at exposing how much more subtle, satirical and stylish the Brits are, perhaps in anticipation of her announcement to more to London. No, Americans would not "get" Ali G; rather, Ali-G would "get" shot. It would be impossible for a white boy in America to ridicule hip hop in the Ali-G does, simply because every white kid in America is emulating their hip hip idols.

Her latest article is now on how she has moved to London and how expensive it is, and how "our" generation is defined by its record debt levels. Well, have fun Leah. Find a rich Brit with an inverted, white and pasty chest to pay your bills. Turn a blind eye when he needs to get surgery on his buttocks due to his spanking obsession. While you are over there, why don't you go work with the rest of the Canada-hating, ink-stained wretches under the watchful guise of Lord Black. This nation bids you adieu.