and so, like our sun, all things must end

so my two week holiday comes to a close. i will miss you, sleep, you old lover.

i do have THIS to look forward to, however:

yes, the joys of modern technology bring me hope that humanity is a jesting, laughing, loving being.

i have a friend who doesn't think the world is good anymore. who doesn't believe in people, in humanity. or, rather, in all humanity other than himself.

i happen to believe in humanity.

to not believe in the affective and effective powers of mankind to make our lives better for each other would mean i didn't believe i could affect any positive change of any kind. too depressing. perhaps a place worthy of contemplation, but i wouldn't want to live there.

i don't think my friend does either, but he's going through some rough things right now, and i can see how he might lose faith in his fellow man.

while finishing "the satanic verses", i had a realization prompted by the themes of the novel that evil is the easier choice in many situations ('evil' meaning 'wrong', not necessarily evil incarnate). doing 'good' is often a more difficult choice, are harder road to hoe, a heavier cross to bear.

this applies to decisions not just about good and evil, but about furthering your potential as a human being. like maslow suggests, we are only truly happy when we feel that we have maximized our potential as people. the novelist-cum-waiter connundrum doesn't lead to bliss. artists go crazy because they are screaming their souls out and no one hears them.

( this IS disjointed, i'll admit. they are random thoughts. there is a thin link in my mind where this is all connected to the same idea, do keep up :)

so by extension, there is an 'evil' in not maximizing your potential. the world suffers, you suffer. depression sets in. evil begets evil. eyes tinted by misfortune see only misfortune.

perhaps my friend has an external locus of control, or sees the world as being to blame, or too big to conquer, therefore, doing nothing absolves him of 'sin', because to struggle against the immorality of a humanity fed nothing but tube-served-capitalist gruel shoved into our gullets daily to make us fat and afraid would be pointless. a battle he can' t win.

he throws his arms up.

sees nothing in the beauty of two strangers exchanges pleasantries .

sees nothing in the beauty of two teenagers making out in front of the 7-11.

sees nothing in the magic of simple gifts. a person in a car letting someone in front. someone returning a wallet, a smile, a simple 'i love you too'. every day the world blows my fucking head off with how amazing we are, all of us, are. i am not always moved, touched, shaken, stirred, bowed.

but the spark is there, the fuel is there, the desire for warmth, the wind is just right, the setting so grand... it's always within my grasp, the fire of mankind warming the belly of a simple man in a simple time.

now back to the camera.

now is the winter of my... winter

(van gogh's 'sleeping workers', i believe it's titled)


it snowed today. two days later than it should have come, it snows. too late to the party, my friend. we needed you here to assist with the picaresque.

i am tired.
my stomach hurts.

both for reasons one wouldn't expect. but then, expecting anything is an easy way to be wrong. everything is so wonderfully unpredictable. perhaps that is why we create pattern and structure: we can swim in the current of madness when we choose, but retreat to the riverbank when we need solace.

right now i need the riverbank. 2 months of school/driving/winter is a not wholly enjoyable promise, and after being innebriated for 4 days, tired for 3 days, talking non-stop for a week, i need to recharge.

i would like to continue with my children's novel. i'm meeting an agent about it next week. I gave her a soft pitch and it seems she's taken the bait. we'll see.

christmas was lovely. my family are incredible people. so interesting, so kind, so funny. i have video to prove it. perhaps i'll post it. such a cacauphony of joyous noises!

if i get inspired, i'll add the video to this post later.

i hope you are all enjoying some type of pleasure, leisure, or indulgence.

I am consumed by the events of my days, and therefore can only document that which has been happening to me.

of note, i have been so acutely aware of my abilities both social and intellectual, but only because there is such a strong deficit of those abilities among many of my peers in the world of workers. i don't mean this to be as arrogant as it sounds. i know that when one makes horrendous and massive generalizations, it is cruel, crass, pointless, and often a sign of limited thinking. forgive the egregious error. when i want to vent, i come in here and write to you, dear forgiving reader.

you must trust me when i tell you that i am not writing that in order to inflate my sense of self, my pride, my arrogance, ego or anything else i already have enough of. i mean to say, the majority of people who end up entering the world are, at this stage of their professional life, not interested in intellectualized, rational, or logical discussion. they prefer to think with their guts. their ignorant, small town, small minded, close minded, guts.

they react, they espouse the ethos of the moral majority, a morality one can pick up from the cover of any people magazine, from listening to any jerry springer-esque talk show. they grandstand on the ignorance of their fellow US magazine readers, denounce the 'too skinny', the 'too fat', the 'too pretty', the 'too smart', think of themselves as highly intelligent because they know that advertising is very misleading... and these are to be the majority of my peers. there is nothing worse than a fool who thinks himself wise. i am fine with it existing, but i am not fine with having to witness the fools showing up to gunfights with dull glass. every time i pull a gun, they laugh and think i intend on throwing it at them.

this is true.

i often feel sad. imagine you're a general in the queen's army, standing behind your men. on the other side of your men stand an army of natives, ready to attack. none of them has seen a gun. despite you telling them that they will be hurt, they do not know what a gun is. without the knowledge, they run blind at you, confident in their ignorance. you sadly have to hurt them. you pity their ignorance. you think of their families, their lives, their tragic confidence....

FIRE!!!!!

only, in my world, the rules are different, and, if you don't know what a bullet is, it can't hurt you. if you don't know what a bullet is supposed to do, it won't do it. it's beautiful for them. i want to live there too. it seems so much easier.

BUT

enough about that, however. every time i consider it for too long i end up getting depressed. the long term ramifications are too serious and tragic, both for me and for our species, and so i must turn to the small, the micro, focus on the minutiae of my motivations.

and that is, mainly, to have a house, a known income, to change the world, have kids, write novels, and love. that is all. simply that. to love, laugh, summer, fun, life, walk run bike jump fly, snow walk, think, talk, food food food, drunk run, giggle, dream, watch listen, swim, and make myself remember that everything is a grand cosmic joke, and the more serious I take it the more funny it becomes to the deities. it's all for fun. i'm all for fun. i just forget sometimes. this place, this silly little blog, redirects me into myself where i r.e.m.e.m.b.e.r.

and today i bid adieu to the students i had worked with every day. touched beyond belief. I wrote and read them this:

To the wonderful students of 8E and 8F

What a month it has been for us all,
Mrs. Parham and me, and you
The learning, the worksheets, the Outsiders,
And homework and detentions too.

It’s been an incredible time in your class,
Meeting you, talking and sharing,
You taught us that when you swear at someone,
It actually means that you’re caring.

Yes, there’s other things too that you’ve taught us,
That pop is a health drink, and lollipops are cough candy,
And it’s always the other guy who stinks,
And that erasers are thrown only because they’re handy.

You’re allowed to run in the halls, you said,
Mr. so-and-so said it was fine,
And it was never you who was talking,
It was those pesky people you sat beside.

We were sometimes fooled and sometimes not,
Depending on who it was we caught,
And so we learned another important rule,
that there’s more than just reading, writing and arithmetic to school.

So yes, you’ve taught us many things, as you can tell,
And many that go beyond the halls and classes and bell,
You taught us that despite entering your teens,
There’s more to you all than being loud dudes or queens,

You’ve been honest, and graceful, and giving and smart,
Shown courage and trust and respect and heart,
And we are honoured to have been able to be
A part of this mad crazy jumbled melee.

So before we sign off in rhyme and such,
We have one last thing we’d like to say,
That you have all had a profound impact on us,
In a very real and human and important way

So thank you for letting us into your lives,
Into your homework and class as well,
And if you don’t think that we were good teachers,
You can all just go to….

High school.


Signed,


fc

November 30, 2006

the minds of the next generation are under my control!

a scourge of holden caulfields i will unleash upon the world!

that's the plan. it has no chance of working out, however. by the time they're in grade 8, they are either going to be or not going to be a holden caulfield, try as i might.

i've been teaching them 'the outsiders'. they love it, as many before have loved it. they love to be read to. it's beautiful. you can hear a pin drop. whenever they get a chance they want to run to the cupboard to open the book, to finally read a book that reflects their own class-ridden, violence fueled lives.

this took a turn for the unfortunate yesterday. my teacher, Karrie, decided to do an impromptu sit-and-talk-about-stuff for 20 minutes. she brought up the topic of book selling, based on the events in the news that day of Nicholas Hare/Horre not selling the new OJ simpson book about how, if he WAS going to kill his wife, how he would have done it. slightly twisted, yes.

so she took the time to discuss with the class their own view on it. it's awesome to watch. the socratic method of asking questions, never giving answers, as a teacher, seems perfect, especially in situations like these. let them formulate their own opinion.

so after the discussion was over, i had three guys near my desk, excitedly talking about how THEY would kill their wife, how they would slash her throat, near water, so no body would be found, and so no CSI people could find the evidence.

they were loving it. i was repulsed. i said, this isn't funny because it happens so often: men feel that women are their property, that they are less than human, and do kill them. it's a problem with our society.

they walked away discussing all the ways they could kill their wife. their wife...

so by grade 8, this mysogyny is present. whoever says media is harmless is probably making their living off it. i can think of nowhere else that they would pick up this content.

i shudder. i want to have an antedote, an answer, but i have nothing but frustration. these divides we have between us never get smaller, do they. like cancer, they confuse, elude, and destroy us.




but!! don't leave saddenned dear reader! on the upside of up, i do love teaching, and seem to have a natural affinity for it. whether or not it's furthering their education it is too early to tell. but i will be happy here. for now.

i had a conversation with a teacher who said that, most teacher's are not intellectual, do not think deeply, fear those who do, dislike those who do, and i will not have many teacher's as my friends because they are a mediocre lot.

while a compliment, i had wondered about this before. it is not a worry for me. i don't need my friends to be intellectual, i only need them to be kind. i don't need them to be smart, i only ask that they be forgiving.

what a long, strange trip it's been. two and a half years ago, i decided to go back to school to finish my degree in english. i then got hired on a kids show, got fired, got back in time to enroll at school, bought a car because i had to commute to london once a week, then a job (bay street), then get in to school, and now here i am. is this the last hurdle? no. but it's the second last. the last will be getting a job. here's to that.

i'm so tired i might forever sleep without an alarm clock.

((you can click the pictures to enlarge them, then click "BACK" on your browser to return to this page, or EVEN BETTER - put your mouse over the picture and right-click your mouse, then scroll to "open in new window" and click it. this is so you won't have to navigate back and forth))




My father's ashes were spread out here.
Here lies my father.
Here lies many of our fathers.

Thinking about my nothingness gives me great comfort. How can there be stress in the world when we know we end up here? That we are all simply molecules, gifted for a brief time with unity, and destined to seed the oceans and skies and earth until the sun implodes.





that photo, from 1929, has the house i was to inhabit 44 years after it was taken. i was brought home to that spot.

here it is now, slightly different, after i have lived here:






there is no sign.
no record.
no proof.
i came, left.
left my father.
like his father was left in england.
like your father's father was left.

there is no record.
there is no proof.

EXCEPT that which we have right now, onto which we blast ourselves every day, shadows, onto other people, other lives, connecting ourselves through history. we are one people, striving towards a commonality, from a commonality. we are god.

the ecosystem is humanity.
the corpus is memory.
we are socialized towards individualism in the west.
we lose our purpose.
get lost on our way to the ocean.

damn.

I haven't posted in two weeks. sorry, faithful reader, but i have no time. Although it's 8 o'clock at night, i am still working. I work straight through every day, from the time i wake up, until the time i retire.

it's more than stressful, but i'm on this train and i goddamn well intend on finishing it.

i did play basketball last night, and got caught up in the beauty of feeling like i didn't have to be anywhere. i had so much worked piled up that being behind a little doesn't feel like a problem. so i stayed until 9:30. it was heaven. I have missed many many nights of basketball since school started. I generally only play one night a week (plus sundays), and even then, i leave early. but last night, i revelled in the chain that binds my leg, i laughed at it, sneered at it, jeered and cheered and leered at it, and pretended that it had had its day.

of course i'm paying for it now. being here. tied to the computer. tomorrow the cycle renews.

but in that two and a half hour of glory, i was free, and i knew it. icarus, back arched to the sun!

those moments are worth these moments.

merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream.

i spend my saturday's catching up on my week, and getting a jump on the next.
my dear friend hinto called today to see if i had time, an hour, to have tea and discuss all of his newfound knowledge after a brief west coast sojourn, but i could not even answer the phone.

here's a typical day: woke at 6:30. to the school i teach at for 8:20. home by 5 - 5:30. work until 10:30. floss teeth. prep food for tomorrow. brush teeth. lay in bed with gal for 15 brief minutes and discuss the day. kiss. sleep. repeat.

who knew teacher's college was this laborious? clearly not me. to those who answered yes to that question, i can only say, "why didn't you warn me, you bastard!".

just kidding.

the students are incredible. i love them. i love that they exist. i love that you exist too.

and a happy birthday to my gal, and to Joel, and to Hinto, and to Cindy, and... who am i missing? Half the people i know are Libra's. and I love them all too.

i wake at 6 am, carpool with 2 classmates who live nearby, and spend 3 of 5 days a week on campus, in class, full time in Hamilton (the other two days i am at a school working/observing/teaching). we go as a group from class to class to class. classes start at 8 am. classes end at 4:30 pm.

during that time, we are focused, listening, participating, actively engaged. it's quite exhausting. there is so much work to do that for the first 2 weeks i gave up. people were dropping out, i was ignoring assignments that were due. it was hell. hell.

my lovely gal sat me down and had me plan out in Outlook, every single thing due, chapter needing reading, etc. etc. it calmed me somewhat. but every day i want to get completely shit-faced when i get home so i can forget about the mountain of work i need to get down that night.

i haven't played basketball this month. (i believe i have played twice since school started). too much too do.

what i am realizing is that a) i am not a very organized person, and b) i prefer libations.

there are not a lot of attractive girls at teacher's college. yes. we all know this, because we never really had crushes on our teacher's. sure, there may have been one or two, but some of those along the way were based on the 'best there is, for a teacher anyway'.

this is a sad realization when there are 185 women in a school of 200.

women are not the focus of this blog.

the focus of this blog is me pretending that i'm engaging in some other existence, one in which poeple have time to blog. i am supposed to be planning a lesson for a class i'm teaching on wednesday, but the lesson plan is due for review with my teacher tomorrow.

fuck.

the stress creeps. thoughts of wine or hash creep into my head. at least at least at least this is a long weekend, and i can spend it BLASTED!!! no... wrong word. WORKING was the one i was looking for.

happy thanksgiving, everyone. may you deserve every drop, drag, and drumstick!

absolute power

ABC News reported Friday that Foley also engaged in a series of sexually explicit instant messages with current and former pages, all male. In one message, ABC said, Foley wrote to one page, "Do I make you a little horny?"

In another message, Foley wrote, "You in your boxers, too? ... Well, strip down and get relaxed."

Foley, as chairman of the Missing and Exploited Children's Caucus, had introduced legislation in July to protect children from exploitation by adults over the Internet. He also sponsored other legislation designed to protect minors from abuse and neglect.

"We track library books better than we do sexual predators," Foley has said.

Foley, who represented an area around Palm Beach County, e-mailed the page in August 2005.

Foley asked him how he was doing after Hurricane Katrina and what he wanted for his birthday. The congressman also asked the boy to send a photo of himself, according to excerpts of the e-mails that were originally released by ABC News.



forgive me for posting this week old news, but i find it so incredible that a once great nation has fallen so far that even its pedophiles are in power, making laws.

exxon executives are in charge of environmental policy, oil-men are in charge of militaries that fight in oil-rich countries, a misogynist ignoramus is in charge of the richest state in the country, meetings with the president can be bought and sold, and in canada we had a highschool drop out in charge of education.

it is no surprise that america is one of the least educated nations in the developed world. and those in power can stay there because of it. it's time for a revolution, but everyone's too drunk on religion, meth, television, or good old fashioned ignorance, to do a goddamned thing. so to america::: you get the future that you deserve.

all those terrorists that are building up to fight against you due to this unjust war? they're yours, you made them, you are complicit because you never stopped your country from fighting, never wrote your congressman, never joined a war protest, never made a stand.

doing nothing is a political act. you voted with your remote control, you voted with your walmart and your SUV. you voted with your arrogance. the terrorists target you because it is you. your stock markets, your globalization, your quest for profits, your decisions, are all coming back to haunt you.

in all globalizing processes there are winners and losers. when you create too many losers, revolution begins to boil. the more losers, the more unrest, and the more unrest, the more dictatorial an approach is taken to maintain the financial status quo, until finally the barberians storm the gate. history gives us numerous examples of an upper class that gets too top complacent, too corrupt, too greedy, too vile, and too top heavy. are we there yet?

you can't keep fucking up forever. you can't keep doing the immoral, the wrong, the unjust, the cruel, forever. somewhere, someone is going to have had enough.

I'm not sure if teacher's college counts as 'academia' per se. It is a mix of theory and practical ideas, with some pyschology throw in.

i wake at 6. i have a one hour commute there, and a two hour commute home. class is, for the most part, very interesting though. the way they teach today is so incredibly different from when i was in the system. the idea of engaging people with ideas in order to learn is incredibly exciting.

my classmates are, unfortunately, not very cerebral, but that is to be expected. Most of them are here because they did not get into law/medicine/other post graduate studies. they all seem very nice though, and they also seem very judgy.

there seems to be a moral air about much of what they suggest, ie, when being told that some students may be pregnant at 12 years old, they let out loud guffaws and condemn the student and parent that would 'let that happen'. or when told that students today have tattooes, my classmates become indignant, questioning the parents' choices. i want to say something, but i believe it might go over their heads. some would agree, i'm sure, but the intelligent are generally quiet in situations such as these because the group think mentality on the other side is so deafeningly loud and morally righteous that to open one's mouth is paramount to social suicide! case in point! as demonstrated by your truly.

we did an exercise in 'appreciating others values', and were asked to pick on a scale between 1 and 5, with one being strongly disagree and 5 being strongly agree: Teacher's should instill in students a strong sense of patriotism and nationalism.

I strongly disagree. Of course, do what you want as a person and parent and friend, but as a teacher i don't think it's my job to instill ethnocentricity and divisiveness at such a young age. parents can do that. molson and tim horton's can do that. i don't care to do it.

when the teacher asked who picked "strongly disagree", i was the only one. (the majority, of course, picked strongly agree) i then had to espouse my views. "a country is an idea. i believe in the idea of what canada is, but i do not believe that teaching others should be a part of my job". i went on to discuss the notion that canada, as a distinct and unique idea, doesn't exist outside of the major metropolitan areas. the rest of canada is not: multicultural, or firmly ensuring the charter of rights and freedoms is applied to all of its citizens (it's not even doing it in cities). Of course, this was taken to mean i didn't like canada... i don't even know how to respond to this type of reductive logic. i felt absolutely misunderstood and villified. it was a terrible day two of school. learning to deal with those who cannot think will be a part of my adjustment, my training.

i feel that many people would rather discuss ways to be tyrannical to students to ensure they listen then how to get students excited about learning. on this point, however, i am afraid my libertarian views are going to be given a very harsh illumination during my first teaching gig! students probably WON'T care for these views, my liberal attitude, my belief in equality, etc. they are probably their own little anarchistic tyrants! wake up call, meet F's quaint, esoteric views.

we shall see.

for now, i have 9 courses per term, all of which are loading us up with homework and i must go to get to it.

full authoritarianism?

monitoring... subtle pressure... the government is watching you, listening to you disagree with it...

the question isn't 'what does monitoring mean', it's what does the government do with the information, and what is the effect on an american writer who is critical of the government?


http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/U/US_IRAQ_MEDIA_MONITORING?SITE=7219&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT&CTIME=2006-08-31-22-29-00

Pentagon Moves Toward Monitoring Media
MATTHEW PERRONE AP Business Writer
AP Photo/GEORGE FREY


WASHINGTON (AP) -- The U.S. command in Baghdad is seeking bidders for a two-year, $20 million public relations contract that calls for monitoring the tone of Iraq news stories filed by U.S. and foreign media.

Proposals, due Sept. 6, ask companies to show how they'll "provide continuous monitoring and near-real time reporting of Iraqi, pan-Arabic, international, and U.S. media," according to the solicitation issued last week.

Contractors also will be evaluated on how they will provide analytical reports and customized briefings to the military, "including, but not limited to tone (positive, neutral, negative) and scope of media coverage."

The winner of the contract will likely also be required to develop an Arabic version of the multinational force's web site.

Attempts by The Associated Press to contact officials connected to the project via telephone and e-mail were not successful Thursday night.

The program comes during what has appeared to be a White House effort, before the fifth anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks, to take the offensive against critics at a time of doubt about the future of Iraq.

President Bush addressed the American Legion's national convention in Salt Lake City on the issue Thursday, stressing that a U.S. pullout from iraq would lead to its conquest by America's worst enemies.

He continued a theme set by both Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld and Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice when they spoke to the administration-friendly group earlier in the week.

The military last year was criticized for a public relations program in Iraq that included hiring a consulting firm that paid Iraqi news media to carry news stories written by American troops.

Pentagon officials have defended the program as a necessary tool in the war on terror. But critics have said it contradicts American values of freedom of the press.

so little time to write to you, my dear dear readers.

blogging requires a 'vibe', an introspective demeanour that i am currently spending on my novel and my navel.

school beckons! a week tomorrow.
the end of an era, the beginning of a new.

i drove to hamilton to view it, finding the whole scene quite novel and lovely. change is always invigorating. a year ago i finished my english degree. then 7 months at Desjardins. now this.

my one lone writing gig, the wise guys column for chatelaine, has been murdered. many changes at chatelaine, as the few people i had known there have been recently let go. they have offered to let me pitch them ideas, however, which is lovely and kind and i will take them up on it. i will miss, however, the joys of reading how absolutely fucked up we all are. humanity, you cold cruel comedienne.

i just want to own a dog, get drunk every day, and just bob in the waves of love forever and ever and ever.

i have been listening to this singer/songwriter of late. the singing part starts around 1:25 if you want to jump ahead.

forgive me. i have been busy, and away from my computer.

i just returned from the lady's cottage, a slice of heaven in a mad mad world.

i have school starting in two weeks.

and i'm trying to finish my kids novel. so many ideas, so little time.

i WILL post a real post when i have the focus. hey, it's summer. :)


addendum: Former Camden High School star Dajuan Wagner had a workout with the 76ers recently at their practice facility at the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine. The 6-foot-1, 195-pound Wagner is trying to work his way back into the NBA after battling knee injuries and colitis over his three-year career with the Cleveland Cavaliers.

i have colitis. it sucks. what sucks worse is having the disease be listed as a reason your once-promising career took a nose dive. although that's what's on the record for my once-promising career as an editor so i suppose i'm in good company. :)

at 3 weeks

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tiSfpOCkSOo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGKvh4BCMdU

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5J4RaQQQIs