Looking through the National Post’s pictures from the Vancouver riots, I was annoyed and disgusted, just like everyone else. The one that stood out for me the most, however, was the picture where someone dressed in the usual anarchist uniform (yes, it is a uniform, despite what idiots who consider themselves anarchists say) fighting with a riot officer.
While the rest of the pictures may disgust people more, and I’m certain some of you may think this is nothing out of the ordinary; it’s just a punk doing what punks do, right? Not to me. This guy is giving one of my favourite art forms/music genres/movements, punk, a bad name.
This guy, despite what he is attempting to portray, is not punk. He may be a punk in the definition according to the Oxford English dictionary (n: a worthless person or a criminal), but he is not punk.
Punk, at its best, has an energy, a message. It can move people; it can become an inspiration for social change. It can berate, educate and motivate. Above all else, it has a meaning – stand up for what you believe in, what you think is right or stand against what you know is wrong.
But in the case of the guy in the picture, he doesn’t have a clear point or ideology he is fighting for. Nope, he is just fighting riot police who were attempting to stop the wanton unchecked destruction. Regardless of what you think about the police, the point remains that they were merely doing their jobs, protecting the city from the infectious madness brought on by a small percentage of Vancouver residents.
My question to the fellow in the picture is, if you are willing to fight for nothing, where are you going to be when there is a fight for something?
Throughout the world, especially the Middle East and the north of Africa, people die every day in a fight for democracy, for what we have. And here you are, willing to brave injury and arrest – for what?
You don’t deserve the right to call yourself punk. You don’t deserve the right to call yourself anything more than a fucking idiot.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
So I've decided to take on a life of crime.
Not mean, hurtful crimes, but crimes of hilarity. That don't kill.
Basically, I'm saying I don't want to be the Joker.
What I plan on doing is mildly inconveniencing people.
I plan to walk up to some dude in a dark alley and threaten him for everything he has in his pockets. Then I'll take one key off his key ring and give everything else back to him. He'll wonder what that was all about, then he'll get home and not be able to open his mailbox, or get into his file cabinet.
And I will laugh.
Or I'll start closing off small sections of roads he takes to work every day, just so it takes him a little longer.
Or maybe I'll turn off all the coffee machines at Tim Horton's before my mark gets there, so she has to wait an extra few minutes if she wants hot coffee.
Basically, I want to be a criminal mastermind, but I want to be one that isn't really worth arresting.
I want the superhero alliance of Edmonton to show up at my door and give me a lecture on being an all-around dick.
Could you imagine what Edmonton's superhero alliance would look like? I can see at least one of them in Ed Hardy. And another one wearing coveralls. And one with thick-rimmed glasses and skinny jeans. They would probably fight all of the time.
Okay, I am going to wrap this up, 'cause it is by far the weirdest fucking blog post I have ever written.
For the first time in a while, Canada had an election. Yeah, it was long, it was hard, and when the hype and swelling went down, there was a mess all over the place and some guy with bad hair was sporting an ear-to-ear grin.
We should be happy we were able to have an election. Heck, some places haven’t had an election in years and they aren’t always lucky enough to have some sexy country step in and give them a hand. Not that the US is sexy, but the Statue of Liberty's robes are like, so close to falling off. More often than not, when those countries finally do gain an election, there is a group of dudes watching everything and it just feels awkward and wrong.
We should still be proud that we were able to maintain an election for such a long time. Often, elections come and go without anyone really paying attention to them. They are sometimes fleeting, a rush that lasts not nearly long enough. They surprise everyone, and the unprepared leave hurting.
But not this election. This election rose gradually like an annual tulip, intimidating some and mesmerizing others.
And we all grabbed a firm hold of this election. We watched it pulse as we argued with one another about who is going to get the most out of it. It was exciting, sexy, and a bit terrifying, just like the best elections.
So instead of mourning our results, Canada, be grateful we had one. Be grateful that we got the opportunity to show everyone what a nice election looks like. Post pictures of it on Facebook, wave it around. If it hit you in any way, feel free to tell everyone your feelings about it for the next few years.
Yesterday, I was watching CBC News Now’s coverage of the riots in Egypt. The anchor (I forget her name, but she was sitting in place of Carole McNeil) began to interview Egypt’s ambassador to Canada, Wael Aboul-Magd (whose name I later found out they did not hyphenate – intentional slight, or typical foreign name error? You decide.).
Anyways, she started to ask Aboul-Magd questions, and the exchange went something like this:
Anchor: Yeah, so how about them riots?
Aboul-Magd: Yeah, isn’t great? This type of thing is wonderful, and totally protected by Egypt’s constitution. The protesters totally have the right to assembly and free association. Totally cool that people can do this kind of stuff.
Anchor: Uh... yeah. Three protesters and one police officer are dead...
Aboul-Magd: Mmhmm. Yep. That’ll happen in these types of things. You know, people get dead. But we promote this type of thing. Riots, that is; not death.
Anchor: What about the heavy police presence?
Aboul-Magd: Ah, what about it? They were merely herding the protesters, protecting them from ... Stuff.
Anchor: But we just saw footage of people running in fear from the riot police.
Aboul-Magd: Ha! Yeah, that’ll happen. Don’t worry about it.
It was much longer than that, but you get the point. Egypt’s stance is something like, “What? Why should the people be mad? We’ve only been in power for over three decades and practically define stale governance! Jeez, chill out.”
Meanwhile, since Egypt is such a crucial ally, the U.S. is all like, “Hey, settle down, both sides of you! Okay, fine, do what you want, just don’t kill anybody. Hey, what did I just say?”
Really, though, hopefully there are no more casualties, and some dramatic change will happen for the better.
Watching Bruce Springsteen’s London Calling: Live in Hyde Park is a hell of an experience.It makes me feel as alive as a weightlifter on cocaine, as humbled as Stephen Harper when he hangs out with Barack Obama, and as baffled as a Tim Hortons (note: that is not a grammatical error) when you hand him/her twenty-two bucks for a twelve dollar order.
Why these emotions?
It could be that I am a violent schizophrenic with multiple personalities and my average day is a roller coaster of emotions.
I could be coming down off a four day heroin bender and the withdrawal is making me a sweaty wreck.
I could be pregnant.
Barring any of these (admittedly ridiculous) possibilities, I’ll try to explain myself.
Why do I feel so alive?
Watching The Boss perform, even in a third-party fashion as I am right now, one can’t help but feel a bit of a rush.As I write this, I feel like I just robbed a liquor store with a Sharpie and totally got away with it.
The energy that Springsteen exudes is rare among so many performers that it feels like something entirely new.When Bruce, after climbing up and down a flight of steps to high five the crowd, yells, “Somebody get me an elevator! I’m fuckin’ sixty!” with a Cheshire grin, it’s impossible not to feel the same high he is obviously experiencing.
There is a joy he takes from performing, one that is returned tenfold by anyone viewing the spectacle.
Watching someone who has reached retirement age rock a three hour rock ‘n’ roll show is like finding a polite clerk at a movie theatre – rare, and therefore exhilarating.
Why am I so humbled?
It humbles me knowing that I am not as cool at 25 as The Boss is at 60.I try, but goddamn.I can’t work a crowd/rip a solo/look awesome in a sweat-soaked shirt like Springsteen.I’m pretty certain he is not human, but a robot from some alien planet (see: New Jersey, where all the good rock seems to be coming from) sent to teach us how to rock.I bet at 60, if I try really hard, I could maybe, maybe, be 10% as cool as Bruce.But by then, he’ll be 95 and still teaching classes on being awesome.
I suppose there is a reason they call him The Boss – he is everyone’s superior.
Why am I so baffled?
Several things about Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band leave my jaw resting on my laptop.They are as follows:
·Does Springsteen age?
·Soul patches aren’t cool; it’s a universal law.Why is it Bruce makes me want one on my face?It’s like your dad having a soul patch, except your dad isn’t a living legend.
·How does Steve Van Zandt fit those skinny jeans on?He is shaped like the guy from Despicable Me!
·Is the E Street Band a group of separate people sharing the same mind or just psychic?‘Cause it seems like they can read each other’s minds.
·Why isn’t every band this awesome?I’m looking at you, Kings of Leon/Nickelback/every other generic band that everyone inexplicably loves.
That’s about it.The point is, if you want a master’s course (a correspondence course – even better!) in how to rock, watch Bruce Springsteen’s London Calling: Live in Hyde Park.It’s worth every minute.
Wale (pronounced "Wah-lay" to you uncouth uncools) once rapped, "That's how I start off oh-nine / kickin' in the door and I'm everybody problem."
That's how I wish I could introduce myself to this year. Unfortunately, I don't really have anyone whose door I could kick in, so I figure I will just anger a few grammarians by inventing ridiculous words (see: futurespective; uncools). Poetry.
I recently looked back at 2010, which was easy. Anybody can rant about the past, so I decided instead to rant about the year coming. I know – brave, right? Audasticles, that's what it takes.
Crystal Ballin' in 2011
Album That Will Suck Beyond All Else That has Ever Sucked Before – U2's Proposed "Club" Album
I can't say whether the album that they are making with Danger Mouse will suck or not. I love everything Brian Burton does, as he turns everything to gold (see: Beck's Modern Guilt, Gnarls Barkley, Broken Bells, DangerDoom, The Grey Album, Gorillaz' Demon Days). Chances are he may bring some energy to a band that hasn't done anything good for well over two decades.
It's the album the D-bags of Ireland are working on with will.i.am. that will undoubtedly be pure, unfiltered crap. It seems like Bono and company will pull out no stops in a desperate attempt to remain relevant in an age where their music is secondary to their celebrity.
Not that it will make a difference how bad the album is. The fact is, if Bono donned a Nazi uniform and bit the heads off kittens while the rest of the band played by the light of a burning cross, U2 would still make the cover of seven issues of Rolling Stone and sell out arenas worldwide.
Major Political Moment – When Americans Wake Up
Just kidding, this won't happen. It would be nice to see some people look at the House of Representatives and say, "Who the fuck is the guy in the fifty-gallon hat with the Tea Party logo on his belt buckle? Oh, shit; I voted for that guy? Hmmm... maybe Obama isn't so bad after all."
I figure, after congress gets around to voting on some actual legislation, voters will realize that packing a building full of backwoods evangelists, doomsday theorists, and dinosaurs wasn't such a great idea, after all. By then, it will be too late, and I will once again be grateful that I live in Canada.
Superhero of the Year – Gabrielle Giffords
I predict the Arizona representative's brain will heal and become more powerful than ever before, giving her the power of pyrokinesis. Or flight. Or both, that'd be cool. Of course, she will use these powers not for good, but for awesome. Giffords' newfound abilities will allow her to barbeque six dozen steaks at once to varying levels of doneness, save taxpayers tons of money on plane tickets, and strike fear into the loins of her opponents.
Sorry I am only writing about American politics, there is just so much happening down below the 49th. Fine, I'll do some Canadian content, if you insist.
First Platinum Album of the Year – Nobody Let's face it – nobody sells many copies of their albums any more, with the exception of Taylor Swift and Eminem. Certainly not Christina Aguilera – BA-ZING!
Wow, I definitely took the high road there, picking on a recent divorcee. And then not putting the accent on divorcée. Class.
I would put money on it that the first album to sell a million copies this year will be something from last year, like Taylor Swift's Speak Now.
And the Rest...
There'll probably be a natural disaster with inadequate federal response (perhaps ice tornadoes in Columbia), a celebrity will say something racist (maybe Morgan Freeman this time), massive human rights issues will go largely ignored by North America (just like whatever Christina Aguilera does this year – KA-CHING!), and I will continue to update sporadically with little regard for the nine people that may read this blog.
Aren’t yearend lists awesome? Everyone has one, and yet there has never been one that is correct and impossible to argue against. In fact, that’s the whole point of a yearend list – get people talking, debating, possibly weeping.
Until now. I decided to make a list that doesn’t adhere to a specific topic of interest; rather, one that just spouts off random garbage that I thought mattered in the previous year. That way, there will be very little worth arguing about. Which negates this list’s existence, doesn’t it? Maybe I should reconsider this whole thing.
Oh, and I do realize that it’s almost mid-January, but hey, at least it’s almost mid-January 2011. Consider me fashionably late. Here we go.
Haranguin’ Around in 2010
Badass Organization of 2010 – The Nobel Peace Prize Committee
By handing the Nobel Peace Prize to Liu Xiaobo, the Committee essentially walked into China’s kitchen, opened the fridge, chugged China’s milk (straight from the carton, of course), left the door open, walked over to China, and knocked over her whole bowl of Fruit Loops. As China sat there shocked and fuming, the NPPC grabbed its collective crotch and said, “Try killing him now, bitch.”
Also, the NPPC totally redeemed itself from the whole “Fuck it, give it to that Obama guy, he seems cool” fiasco.
This is Liu Xiaobo's "angry face."
Movie That Left the Entire Theatre in Stunned Silence – Inception
Granted, a good third of the audience was thinking, “Can I call Ellen Page hot yet?”
I'm gonna go ahead and vote "yes."
Album That Will Age Gracefully – Big Boi’s Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty
Okay, maybe the title won’t age so well, but this album will sound fresh in 2020. Or it better, otherwise I am going to look like a jackass.
Album That Made Me Wish I Lived in the Southern States in the Sixties – One Night Stand / Sam Cooke Live at the Harlem Square Club
Sort of, anyway. But just for the live music. Maybe not for the, you know, “segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever!” politics.
I know it wasn’t released this year, but I bought it this year, so it might as well have not existed until 2010.
Idiot.
Man, time travel would be sweet for my concert attendance record.
Most Ridiculous News Fiasco – The “Ground Zero Mosque”
Leave it up to the fanatics at Fox to transform a community centre with a prayer area two blocks away from the spot where the Twin Towers fell into a mosque at ground zero. The way it was being portrayed made it seem like it was a facility where Al-Qaeda militants practiced firing bazookas at puppies wrapped in American flags.
The proposed centre contained more than just a prayer area, but also fun stuff like basketball courts. This alone proves it isn’t a mosque. When was the last time you went to مسجد just to shoot hoops?
How is a country supposed to progress if every aspect of its society, right down to the fucking zoning regulations are rallied against by racists disguising themselves as conservative activists? I pity America.
Recipient of the “How Does He Keep His Job?” Award – Stephen Harper
Between proroguing parliament to watch the Winter Olympics, holding secret border negotiations, and spending $124 million to transform Toronto into a police state where the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms no longer applies, how is this sterile mannequin still our Prime Minister?
Blog I Most Admire – Gay Uganda
This guy is everything I wish I could be – brave, funny, and poignant. His blog is something that should be read by everyone, from the highest politicians to the youngest child.
Book That Rocked My Socks – Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Pip’s constant lusting for a hot, bitchy, raven-haired chick reminded me of Archie. Except Great Expectations is funny. It also inspired this song...
Most Entertaining Magazine Interview – Esquire’s December 2010 Interview with Christian Bale
Describing Bale as wonky is like calling Sarah Palin an idiot – he is so far beyond that word that he almost defies description. This interview proves that in a fun, hilarious way. Kudos to John M. Richardson for keeping the interview on the rails when it got shaky while simultaneously maintaining journalistic integrity. Impressive.
Also, Terminator: Salvation sucked and Christian Bale sucked in it. Just thought I should close the list out on that note.
