Fume Fume Rage Rage Spit Spit Rar~!

Excuse the incoherent splattering of rage. But this pissed me off.

I swear, crap never ends with these people. Remember the Take Back the Night March and our food-bringing vigilantes? Well, they’ve sunk to a brand new low. Today, I get an email from them. It says that they’re actually in debt, so could we please give them some money to pay for the food they provided?

I beg your pardon? These people certainly have balls if they have no guts. There was no fucking money made at this march. Everything that was provided at the march, from the use of the PA system, to the bottled water, to the other little desserts, to the noise-makers, was donated by businesses and private citizens. Nobody else expected to be paid. What’s more, these people have donated food before, they know there’s no money to be had. And, they know that the people putting it on aren’t exactly dripping with cash, either. It’s a goddamn charity event!

But more importantly, why did they make the food if they knew it would put them into further debt? There is no way that they could claim they had no idea it would put them into debt. There was no sudden tragedy that just happened. Obviously the stack of bills was piling up and there were red pen-marks in the budget before they went and made the food. I wouldn’t have even minded so much if, when we had asked them if they wanted to make food, they had said “Sure we can make the food, but we can only do it if you give us a hand financially because we’re strapped.” At least then it would have been up front and honest. Hell, if they couldn’t have done it, they could have said no. But to write us an email now and cry out that they’re in so much debt and need to recover costs somewhere is kind of low. It’s like buying your friends Christmas presents and then saying, “Actually I can’t afford them. Can you pay me for them?”

But what supremely pisses me off is I can’t even feel like they did one good thing for the march. They came out, but they tried to stir shit by chanting anti-police chants. They brought food, but now they expect to be paid for it. It really shows the selfishness of the bunch. I say we don’t give them a single penny, and then ask other, more generous and scrupulous organizations to help with food next year. Dealing with these people is just too much trouble.

What’s to Discuss?

It’s time for a little story. Once upon a time, 25 years ago, there was a man named Keith Secor. He taught grades 2 and 3 in a catholic school. I guess he liked a few of his students too much, and started to french-kiss them on a daily basis. One day, many years later, some of those girls, now women, filed charges against him because of those kisses. Ever since he was charged, the board moved him out of the classroom and gave him work at the board office. At the end of it all, he was found guilty.

Now here’s where our story takes a weird twist. After his conviction, the board actually had to meet and *decide* what should be done with him. Decide? What’s to decide. There’s only one option. He molested kids, he shouldn’t be working with kids, plain and simple! Show him the door! I understand the idea of not firing him until he was convicted, and it would be horrible if they summarily fired him even after he was found not guilty, but he was convicted!

They did decide to fire him, almost grudgingly, or so it would seem from the article. The superintendent said, “we believe we did not have a choice” about firing him, since the Education Act says that anyone convicted of a sexual crime involving minors cannot be allowed to work with children.”

Duh! What’s so hard about that?

Incidentally, while looking for a story on this guy, I stumbled across this page full of complaints about teachers. Paul Primeau in particular is, uh, quite the gem.

Ad Slogans that Need a Little Tweaking

I heard a couple of ads that made me think some strange things.

If the new program from NutriSystem is called NutriSystem Nourish, what did the old one do? Was it NutriSystem Starve Until You’re a Skeleton? I’m scared.

One ad claims you shouldn’t be hungry after you eat. Really? So after my first meal, ever, I should be fine?

Maybe I’m just too damn literal.

Goodbye MSN Messenger, You Just Nudged Yourself Off my Computer.

Ug! That’s all I can say about MSN Messenger 7 and above. Full of bloated garbage, buttons and ads. You can’t even get rid of a bunch of the buttons. You can just move them around. If you lie and say it’s a shared computer, some of them disappear, but not all of them.

Then there are the nudges. Double ug! I swear, the nudge is the most annoying thing you can do. If you don’t feel like you’re getting enough attention, you can send a sound to your friend and cause the conversation window to shake. Hey bud, here’s a tip for ya. If you do that to me, you certainly aren’t going to get any attention from now on. If I’m not answering, there’s probably a damn good reason for it. Like, oh, say, I’m away from the computer. Or maybe I don’t have anything to say. If you have something new to say, say it. Don’t nudge me.

But the final straw was what it did to me yesterday. I was talking on MSN to someone and they said, “Why am I getting song titles in my window. Something about music mix.” I looked and the thing that says show song titles was unchecked. So why in Christ was it doing it? That just creeped me out.

I remember the days when MSN Messenger was simple. There was a spot to type, a spot to read what your friend had typed, there was a way to send files, you could voice chat, you could check your email and you could add people to your contact list. That was all you really needed. Now it’s full of all this bloated shit. So goodbye MSN Messenger, I’ll stick to Windows Messenger. It does what I want, it’s simple and not full of junk…for now.

So…

It’s early on an average Saturday morning. Outside the window, there is a quiet, sunless, breezeless yet cool and somehow sticky 17 degree day. Inside the window, there are 2 angry blind people trying to figure out how it is that with no heat on in the apartment, there could possibly be an atmosphere best described as a scorching 29 degrees with a humidex of about 36. Do we have some kind of heat throwing insulation that springs into action when it gets below a set temperature for a certain length of time? Did they turn on heat to half the building thinking that those of us who are way up high wouldn’t need it because heat rises? I don’t know, but if that’s what they thought, they were exactly right, because for lack of a better way to say it, it’s fucking hot in here! But whatever the case may be, here we sit, on this sticky sunless morning, with our air conditioner turned on and way up high! Thank Christ we haven’t pulled the thing out of the window yet. Who knows, maybe we won’t need to. Laugh if you will, but let me remind you that this is Canada, and that in Canada, anything is possible. Last year we didn’t get winter until sometime in January, so I rest my case.

If you have digital cable or a satellite and you’re a fan of either wrestling, boxing, MMA or even all 3 like me, if you don’t have The Fight Network yet, what are you waiting for? They don’t show any WWE, but these days that’s a selling point, so do yourself a favour and check it out. Tell ’em Steve sent ya. It won’t get you any sort of discount or anything, I’ve just always wanted to say that.

While we’re on the subject of digital cable, note to the folks over at Leafs TV: I love your channel, but if I have to watch that Tim Hortons club sandwich commercial one more time…

I read yesterday that TNA is bringing Vince Russo back and putting him in a creative role. If I had to sum up my feelings on this development in one word, that word would have to be whythefuckwouldyoudosomethingsogoddamnstupid? Let’s review. He was horrible in WCW multiple times, and a case can be made for him being a sizeable part of the company’s ultimate downfall. Some would argue, [and I count myself among them,] that while he did his share of good in the WWF, that he was largely awful there as well. If you ever watch a wrestling show and find yourself getting pissed off at those 25 minute segments that consist of nothing but talking or those matches that are done before they have a chance to turn into anything good, now you know who to blame. But here’s the real kick in the nuts. He’s already gotten the chance to fuck up TNA, and true to form, he did. Why then would you bring him back? Ok, let me rephrase that. Why, other than his friendship with people who hold power in the company, would you bring him back again knowing what everybody with a brain should already know? TNA needs to carve out its identity as something different from WWE, they don’t need to be WWE light like WCW became under Russo’s control. Then again, maybe I’m missing the point. Now that I think about it, Russo’s return paves the way for TNA to create the biggest difference of all. While WWE is acting like a company that is in business and making money, TNA will not be. It doesn’t get much different than that. Perhaps I’ll end up being wrong and TNA under the guidance of Vince Russo will end up doing fantastic business, and maybe one day we’ll have another Monday night war on our hands. but sadly, I’m not usually wrong when I really want to be, and I have a funny feeling that this will probably end up being the continuation of my hot streak.

Screw you, McDonald’s! I know that kind of came out of nowhere and I know I don’t mean it, but they monumentally pissed me off last week and since I’m sure I’m not the only one, I feel I need to say something,and that something is simply this. Stop putting the fucking hash browns in those little paper bags! Maybe they’re fine if you’re walking 10 feet to a table and then eating them right away, but if you have to go any further than that, not so much. You’d think that with 100 billion served or whatever it is that they would have this figured out by now, but since they don’t, here’s what happens. As time passes, things that are hot tend to cool down. In the case of the hash browns, as they cool down, the potato shit starts sticking to the bag, which is almost too small for the goddamn hash brown to fit into to begin with. this results in me being unable to extract the little bastard from the bag without losing half of it, and sometimes even ingesting a little bit of flake-laden paper in the process of trying to save as much of it as I can because I paid for it and I damn well want my money’s worth! What was so wrong with the cardboard thing? Nothing ever stuck to the cardboard thing. And don’t give me that bullshit about how it’s better for the environment either. You know as well as I do that all of those cardboard things will eventually break down and disappear. Besides, you have to cut down trees to get your precious little paper bags, so how good is that for the environment, you pricks?! Ok, I almost feel better now.

I heard the other day that there were actually plans to start marketing a Steve Irwin branded sunscreen, but they ended up scrapping the idea once they found out that it didn’t protect against harmful rays.

And on that heartwarming note, I’m all out of ideas, so I’m going to go have breakfast now. See you all around, at least those of you who aren’t Steve Irwin.

1984

Everybody told me I should read the book 1984 by George Orwell. Somehow, I missed it in high school. So I read it. I finished reading it almost a week ago, and have wanted to write a post about it ever since I finished it. But it felt way way too heavy to write. Finally, I think I can do it. At least I can try.

It’s really scary when extreme concepts like the ones in the book don’t seem beyond the possibility of happening, and some feel like they’re in the beginning stages of happening. Just look at the slogans “war is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength.” How many times have we heard U.S. President Bush say something along the lines of, in order to protect our freedom, we must lose some personal freedoms? What about the idea that we are going to war to preserve the peace? And as for “ignorance is strength,” well, look how some people will fill with patriotic fervour just because they’re told too, and will unquestioningly do as Bush says and get angry at those who want to question where this is going? If that isn’t strength for the army and a license for the president to do whatever he wants, unresisted, I don’t know what is. What about the statements that the torturing of terror suspects is for the good of the American people, or the way some people have disappeared? Is anyone getting some serious “ministry of love” parallels?

And then there’s all the similarities to the spying that goes on in the book. In the book, no one had privacy and “Big “brother” was always watching you. They listened in on you everywhere you went. Now, since 9/11, the U.S. has been nudging its way towards that point, wanting to listen in on phone calls without reason, read your emails, log what you do and where you go on the net without any kind of reason why. They say it’s for the benefit of the people. Can you swallow that?

Reading the book does strange things to the mind. As I was reading it, I felt the uncontrolable urge to google random references to old British nursery rhymes to see if they existed. They did, in all kinds of different forms, which almost frightened me more. Think about it. The job of the main character is to change records to make them match the current stance of the party. I couldn’t decide if I should be happy that the search results didn’t come up all uniformly the same, or worried that someone might have changed some of them. For half a second, I thought about going and saving newspaper articles about certain historical events, just in case they changed someday. Then I shook my head at the craziness of it all.

Then I got thinking about how we know the human memory is unreliable, and the only way we can truly back up what we’re saying is by looking things up somewhere. So of course, if you change the records, you change human memory, and anyone who insists that events happened in a different way than what is written down is made to look as if they are insane.

The idea of people no longer existing, becoming an unperson, isn’t really that extreme an idea. Think about your own family tree. Can you trace it all the way back to the beginning of time from what you remember? I don’t think so, not without the help of some kind of historical records. You have memory of your immediate family, your grandparents and aunts and things, and maybe your great-grandparents. But further back than that is a mystery. If those records are changed to remove people, good luck proving they ever existed.

Even famous people can fade out of existence if you let them. After they’re dead and the people who can remember them without reminders are no longer with us, who is going to remember? What a scary thought.

The final straw was the general hopelessness of it all, the idea that if you resist the will of the party, you *will* be found and dealt with. There was the horrible idea that no one is strong enough to withstand the things the torturers did to them. If you gave someone enough pain, they would see, actually see, five fingers where there were four. If you made someone face their worst fear, something that was unbearable, they would cry out that you should do it to the one they loved rather than them. I got thinking. What would be my worst fear? Being raped? Going insane? Drowning? Being attacked by swarms of bees? I don’t know! And would I actually be so afraid that I would tell them to do it to Steve? The book, and that horrible nightmare I had makes me think I would!

Worst of all, if they decided to let you back out, you would never be the same. Just when you thought you’d found an ally, you found out they were the enemy. There was no message of hope, no way to win, the party would always control everything.

And now I feel like people who read this are going to tell me to go get a tin-foil hat because I’m a paranoid freak. But I can only hope that was what the book intended. Hopefully, that book never comes true in every possible way. I couldn’t live in a world like that. With no free will, what would be the point of living?

What Part of Piss Off with the Late Night Phone Calls do you Not Understand?

It’s 6 o’clock in the morning and I’m steam steam steaming! I know I’ve ranted about this before, but here I go again. Last night, at around 3 a.m., our phone started ringing. Steve and I groggily asked each other who in hell would call us at 3 in the god damn morning. I figure if someone is phoning that late at night, there had better be a good reason for it. Like somebody better be dead or almost dead or some other emergency had better be happening.

This morning, we check the messages, and it’s this one friend of ours. He’s drunk, and says, “Call me back and it had better be soon.” If it was the first and only time he had done it, I could just laugh and say he was being a drunken fool and forgot what time it was. But this guy will do it when he’s sober, and it wasn’t two weeks ago that I picked up the phone at 2:30 in the morning when he called, found out he just wanted to tell Steve that a show had started that was cool, so I pretty much told him to stop calling so god damn late at night unless something was extremely pressing! Like, you have email. Use it! Steve has told him countless times And here he is again! Dude! You’re cool and all, but look at a clock before you decide now is the time to call your friends!

Hey Hey! Ho Ho! Selfish Agenda-Pushing Has Got to Go!

All I can say about what I’m about to write is grrr! AS I write this, I wonder why this bothers me so much. It certainly wasn’t a surprise.

Ok, let’s explain this bit by bit. Every year, in lots of cities, there’s a Take Back the Night march, where women march together asking for safety in the streets, the right to walk at night without needing protection from attack, etc. But it’s more than that. It’s all about awareness about domestic violence and other violence that happens to women. Lots of organizations come and help. Some bring food, some, like the police, make it so we can walk down the middle of streets without becoming roadkill. Some bring the audio equipment so we can have mics at the beginning and end.

Well, we had our march last night. One of the organizations who offered to help out by bringing some food was Guelph Union of Tenants and Supporters or GUTS. Does that ring any bells? If it doesn’t, let me jog your memory. Ever since I knew they were involved, I was worried about what might happen. They are very anti-police, have no problem with causing a disturbance and resisting arrest whenever they have protests, they have burned an effigy of a police officer who they accuse of sexually assaulting one of their members during her, um, arrest at a protest. So they’re not exactly what I would consider calm, level-headed folk. I was worried, first because I thought maybe they would lash out at the police that escort the people marching. Second, I thought maybe the one making all the accusations might want to try and speak out on the topic of sexual assault, which might cause all manner of other crap to happen.

At first, all went well. We all gathered, there was food around, the speeches went off without a hitch. The only thing that made me worry was, as we prepared to march and the announcement was made that we had to respect private property and there would be no grafiti or chalking of private property, several GUTS members grinned at each other. Ok? What does that mean? Do they think it’s funny that we have to make that warning, perhaps because they’ve done those things before? Then we started marching. As we marched, various anti-violence or take back the night chants started happening. Then, amid the chants, I heard this. “Hey, hey, we’re the boys in blue! Hands where we can see ’em or we’re gonna shoot you!” I asked the person I was walking with who was chanting that. Of course, it was members of GUTS.

This made my stomach flip and all the worries I had had about them seemed to be coming true. Luckily, there was no incident, but it still doesn’t change how I feel about what they did. If it wasn’t for those “boys in blue,” we would have had no march. When else could we have walked through the middle of the streets of downtown without causing a major calamity? But most of all, this was an anti-violence march, a symbolic event all about wanting safe streets for women. It takes a special kind of selfishness to use that platform to serve your own purposes.