It makes you feel weird and uncomfortable, and at the same time you wonder why you're still reading...

I don't really care that MJ has passed on. I'm pretty unimpressed by the amount of news coverage that this story is receiving, but I understand it. On a personal note however, I feel like MJ released maybe 2 good songs? Nevermind the fact that I can't take the 4:40 out of my life to listen to either of those two songs, I can safely assume that he hasn't released anything worth listening to for twenty years. He was banking on the success of his childhood band/family, and maybe two albums that were released in the eighties. Not to mention the controversy surrounding this guy. With all the accusations, it's pretty safe to say that he did something wrong, and he did have a higly publicized, strange family life. So, with MJ's death, what have we lost really? Maybe:

1) A band that got big in the seventies and two albums in the eighties.
2) Tabloid fodder.
3) A lot of songs that are annoying, and twenty years worth of poorly done, annoying records.
4) A few less abused children.
5) A few less divorces.
6) The worlds most terrifying surgery recepient.

A lot of other people in the world die everyday. But there isn't a new magazine out every week paying homage to Armenia, Rawanda, or Africa... the only reason most of us people know about these events are because celebrities are latched onto them. MJ was a celebrity, and he really did next to nothing for anyone in the world aside from himself. So why do we care?

I'm not sure. MJ was a hack, and I care more about the world then I do him. If MJ was actually important, Stephen Hawking would've come up with a theory about him.

Mortification

"If you have any shame, forbear to pluck the beard of a dead lion."

A few years ago, I played with my at-the-time band at the Warped Tour festival. It was a dream come true at the time; I was able to meet musicians that I looked up to, play in front of a decent crowd, and just basically feel like a semi-important part of the musical world, not to mention telling other people in months later that I had played there. On the drive back, we were all hungry, so we decided to stop at the Burger King along the way. It was beyond busy, with lineups reaching out the door. However, this failed to deter us, and as such we got in line. Slowly but surely we made our way to the front of the line, when some inventive youths start cutting in ahead of us through the other door. None of us are happy about this, but it may have been fear or lethargy that prevented any of us from stating our displeasure. One guy had had enough however, and stepped out of line. He yelled at the man behind the counter, "Hey Mohammed! You plan on taking charge of this fucking crowd?" Looking at the who he's yelling at, and I noticed that he was a timid looking brown man, who isn't about to argue with anyone. As this was around the time when the whole world was looking for brown terrorists, I assumed he was being ignorant. Being the politically inspired individual I am, I look at the kid guy yelling and say, "Woah dude, there's no need to be racist or anything. The guy's just doing his job, and it happens to be really busy in here. Calm down." This kid looks at me and goes, "Racist? Look at the nametag. Eat your words motherfucker." I look at the nametag, and sure enough, the man's name was Mohammed. I proceeded to quiet up and feel like an idiot for the rest of the night.

Two Headed Boy Part 2

A lot of people listen to a lot of different music. I'm pretty bad about it. Unlike most of the kids out there today, I tend to listen to various bands up until a certain point, but after 1996, I find that good bands are few and far in between. One of my favourite bands for a long time was a band called Neutral Milk Hotel. Very rarely have I felt such an emotional connection to music written by anyone other then me.

Daddy please hear this song that I sing
In your heart there's a spark that just screams
For a lover to bring a child to your chest that could lay as you sleep
And love all you have left like your boy used to be
Long ago wrapped in sheets warm and wet

Blister please with those wings in your spine
Love to be with a brother of mine
How he'd love to find your tongue in his teeth
In a struggle to find secret songs that you keep wrapped in boxes so tight
Sounding only at night as you sleep

Brother see we are one in the same
And you left with your head filled with flames
And you watched as your brains fell out through your teeth
Push the pieces in place
Make your smile sweet to see
Don't you take this away
I'm still wanting my face on your cheek

And when we break we'll wait for our miracle
God is a place where some holy spectacle lies
And when we break we'll wait for our miracle
God is a place you will wait for the rest of your life

Two headed boy she is all you could need
She will feed you tomatoes and radio wires
And retire to sheets safe and clean
But don't hate her when she gets up to leave


On a side note, I'll be in South Ontario for awhile. It's been a really stressful month. I feel kind of wierd, and especially unoriginal about it. I've also started talking to myself again.

YMW.

Let`s just say I wrote something really stupid before.

I want to start again.

I was talking to someone about my cousins upcoming wedding, and she got all "Pffft, I hate weddings, grrrrrr". I don`t really know why, there`s not a lot of logic to it. Fact is though, it was actually pretty attractive and funny at the same time. I don`t know why I was into it. For some reason, in the time that I`ve been stuck in Saint-Romuald, I`ve developed a liking for knee high socks, and angry statements. Anyways though, I`m going to brag a bit here.
Some people attract you. Not that they have to be attractive (although it`s always nice), there are those that people are simply drawn to. I happen to have the option of hanging out with one of the coolest girls I`ve ever met. Really, The Bouncing Souls said it best when they called it "the something special".
If you`ve got someone in your life who`s cool and down to hang out with you, then you should hang on to them, because people suck, and if you can find a few worth hanging on to, then fucking hold on tight.

The fact is, that tears don`t matter much.

I really like writing my own songs, and these are my favourite lines from the songs that I`ve chosen to keep. They`re about a shitty tour, my cousins engagement, a girl that I don`t really talk with anymore, a bunch of people that I`ve met that helped ruin the music that I love, and a friend that`s going to South America, who has to be one of the bravest guys I`ve met in awhile. Take a guess at which line fits with each story.

1) I really don`t hate you... I just can`t stand your Black Flag tattoo.

2) Don`t want no tour, I just want to go back home. It`s the only place I really wanna know...

3) We`re sending you off with love, but please oh please, don`t forget about us.

4) You`re eighteen and as pretty as can be, but I hope to hell you`re not in love with me.

5) I can`t promise you anything but I really hope that the rig and sails hold on your makeshift boat.

6) You`re just another face I never want to know, you`re a car drive that I wish I hadn`t drove.

Le Monde.

I don`t believe that people are born with a predisposition for a certain activity, excluding of course the natural inclination to eating, breeding, forms of interaction, etc. Nevermind the fact that I have a hard time believing in anything, I do find it exceptionally difficult to imagine that a person is born with the desire to perform a job that has been invented by our race, and that the fire of that act continually burns inside the very fibre of their being, never to be extinguished. It`s lovely to imagine that a person is simply born to make music, or sail a boat. Some people would be born save the world, run for president, cure cancer! But unfortunately history has proven that if the heroes of this world are born into their position and naturally inclined to follow it, then there are the villians, people born to counteract the works of our great idols. People who are born to rape women, kill children, put a dollar value on lives, steal from an honest shop owner, encourage the destruction of an entire species.
It`s hard to determine whether you are a hero or villian. I know that that is a funny sentance, but work with me. Some would say that stealing is wrong. Some would say stealing from a major corporation is right. Others yet would say that stealing is only okay in the most dire of circumstances. It all comes down to personal choices, and back again to the decisions that people make. Before anyone decides that I am a fucking asshole, it needs to be said that this kind of choice is not always evident. Someone who has become a victim of the economic climate that we have created for ourselves (and as such has forced many people into poverty) does not always have the choice to play music or not. I`m simply stating that no one is born into one role, or is born to assume one position. Obviously I`m not one for the caste system, nor do I believe in social hierarchies.
I wish that I could control myself the way I would like to, but the fact is that I am a victim of every jealousy that homo sapien sapiens can experience. Does it make me good or evil? I don`t know. I don`t think that those concepts exist... but I do think that the world is filled with shades of grey. I know what I "love" (if the word can be used properly, because I sometimes have a hard time imagining "love" as anything other then a chemical reaction in the brain that inclines human beings one way or the other towards breeding), and I am willing to fight to keep those things in my life. I also know that a lot of the things that I claim to "love" can and have been harmful to my well-being.
What am I writing about? Finding good, honest mechanics in Quebec City. It`ll make you think that heroes really do exist.