The Tailor Made Journalist

Coming soon ...

2006-08-26T22:24:00.000-04:00

An updated version of the Tailor Made Journalist is on it's way. As the fall approaches, we will have more time for writing and updating and all the wonderful things that you have come to expect from TMJ. Stand by.

Aye Matey!

2006-08-22T20:44:00.000-04:00

Being a fan of SNL's Will Ferrell and his movies, I decided that I would prove to my father who claimed that "...all of the good parts in his latest movie, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, are in the commercials" is not the case.

Because my dad wouldn't pay money to see it, the deal was this: I download a bootleg and if it is funny, we'll see it in theatres on his dime.

I love a good comedy: dark humour, poo-poo humour, slap-stick, whatever. If it's funny it's funny. I love Anchor Man and Old School. My favourite comedy is Zoolander (WF is a genius in that).

However, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, is proof of why downloading illegal copies of movies has increased in recent years; after seeing this movie I would argue for the legalization of such.

Not only is Will Ferrell's film a pile of garbage having poorly cut scenes, horrible improvisation, and humour that isn't coherent; its mockery of a Nascar driver's various endorsements is the perfect tool to make Talladega Nights a commerical from beginning to end.

I am disgusted and feel bad for anyone who paid to see this movie.

And unfortunately it appears that the "big" movies coming out recently are garbage, with few exceptions. This is why I love independent film.

If you're going to see this movie because you're a Will Ferrell fan, at least download it first. This movie finally proved to me WF might actually be stupid.

BC

I love our government... (not)

2006-08-21T16:15:00.000-04:00

Have you ever wondered where all our tax money goes?

Well here is an amazing story about the government really wasting our dollars.

I am being audited.

Yes. Me. A 20 year old student is being audited.

Apparently it is the year for rent and tuition or something. But really…I mean... come on. There is millions of dollars worth of tax fraud going on and they have to sit and make sure that I did in fact pay my under $3000 of rent?

Two of my friends are being audited too. (All of us have no money to our names)

Way to go Tax man.

Then I want the Water...

2006-08-12T14:02:00.000-04:00

A group of Six Nations natives in the Kitchener-Waterloo area are protesting the erection of a wind generator controlled by Ontario Hydro. In an article published in the Kitchener-Waterloo Record, a spokesperson for the group is quoted in the article as saying that the land that the generator has been built on and the wind that runs the machine both belong to the natives that own the land.

As I have said before in other articles, I am not an overtly racist person but I will go so far to say now that making such a claim is uniquely discriminatory towards the rest of the Kitchener-Waterloo community. Native people have been allowed distinct rights and abilities based on their historical position in our society, rights and privileges that in my opinion discriminate against caucasian people and those of other physical backgrounds. Free education. Zero taxes. And now, their right to land -- a land which has the potential to serve thousands of people -- is disrupting the society whose own taxes go to paying for the rights and privileges afforded to natives.

It breaks down like this: sure we'll take your money, sure we'll take your free education but go to hell if you think we're going to let you build a generator powered by OUR wind that will power the houses of families and businesses in a community where we too live, work and raise our children.

Enough is enough.

CJ;

Is violence ever just?

2006-08-11T16:56:00.000-04:00

The world against Hitler? Was that just?

Of course it was.
It was good versus evil wasn't it?
Of which were evil?

Is the violence in Rwanda just?

Rwanda where? Some ask.

How'd Rwanda's violence begin? Does the U.S. do anything to help?
Of course not.
They've forgotten.

All violence can be justified.
It just depends on your view
and whether you have the majority of the world behind you.

My argument was and is that culture is centric;
we hear only of things when it's important to our survival.

So why do we receive filtered facts of violence in the Middle East?
Because it makes us accept the violence: Israel GOOD, Hezbollah BAD.

We're forced to take sides before we can understand what is really happening.

Is violence just?

For some people, yes.

Is History important? Yes and no.
It doesn't prevent killing.
It offers perspective.

I wish more people would take the time to acknowledge world violence.
If I had one wish, it would be to stop violence, especially
in cases when the violence exists in a cyclic-perpetual burn.

BC

If they level themselves ... so what?

2006-08-07T10:36:00.000-04:00

If there's one thing that I wholeheartedly disagree with with regard to government operations it's foreign affairs.

As a disclaimer, I am not a cold hearted person.

I'm not a tyrant.

But I am a believer in the notion that a government has an obligation to protect the rights, freedoms and opportunities of its own citizens, country and assets before assisting or becoming involved in the affairs of another country. But, as a super power becomes more powerful, they're ability to interfere in the matters of another state become more apparent.

Canada is a leading force in numerous United Nations lead missions across the globe while in the meantime per capita our own children are unable to attain proper education ... even when it's free at an elementary level. Likewise, our health care is free but we wait six to eight hours before receiving treatment in an emergency facility. We wait months to see a medical specialist to deal with life threatening diseases. And we take our assets and ship them overseas?

The idea breaks down like this: we have two whole hamburgers. Canada is one hamburger and the rest of the world is the other. We start to eat the Canadian hamburger and then pause to take bites out of the other worldly burger. We eat so much of the worldly burger that we can't be bothered to finish the Canadian burger.

An article in Reuters and on CBC stated that the Canadian government fears that Canada might become the target of future terrorist attacks. 67% of Canadians believe that terrorists are currently plotting on Canadian soil and 59% believe that an attack will take place in either Toronto or Ottawa in the next year. Of course it will. Following September 11, al-Qaeda cited the American's interference in the Middle East as part of the reason for the attacks on the World Trade Towers.

You know when you were little and you'd try to join into an adult conversation and someone would turn to you and very seriously say: "the adults are talking." That's exactly what one of these countries should say to Canada. Isreal, Palestine, Iraq, Afghanistan ... these countries are all having adult conversations and Canada should go back to playing with its Hot Wheels on the rug. Thousands of years of fighting and of history aren't going to be resolved by peaceful means.

It's going to be resolved by bombing the shit out of one another.

CJ;

It's Spelled Hezbollah

2006-08-06T16:10:00.000-04:00

Firstly it's Hezbollah. Not Hizbella, Hezbillah, Hazboola.

Secondly, there is an enormous history between Israel and Hezbollah.

This recent event in the news is not simply a matter of taking two soldiers hostage, but the details are something I have no power to illuminate.

As Canadian citizens, it is our responsibility to question our Prime Minister. How much do we understand what is going, how much do they understand what is going on?

I find it very difficult to imagine that Mr. Harper truly grasps a complete conceptual History of the tensions between Hezbollah, Israel and Palestine. This goes the same for us citizens.

Even with a nearly-finished History degree, I can only say that over the last thousand years - which really isn't that long, 10 generations - a plethora of events and actions have compounded to the point where the world is at now. Without these occurrences, religious fervor and political tension, teamwork and an exchange of ideas cross-culturally, we would not have "progressed."

Unless we live in the center of conflict, we're going to approach things from a centric perspective. We're never going to entirely see the full context of a situation out of our reach. Therefore, passing judgment and pointing fingers does nothing but create more tension.

What we should be angry for, which most people are, is the continuation of violence. But humanity has never been peaceful.

What is most scary is our, The World's, complete neglect of History. Instead, we receive information in the form of a water-downed media report in which possesses no context: as if we're living and breathing the events as they occur, but we are not.

The truth of the matter is, the centricity our country and the United States are immersed in involve the pursuit of money and oil.

We are a fiscal people.

Facts are buried.

Amnesiac’s Delicate Pieces

2006-08-03T16:06:00.000-04:00

Consciously, you call out for your wounding knives loudly
when you’re really crying softly inside the disease, oblivious to its lesions.

You try to ensure your future by condoning your present,
but you must avow the present to rescue your future:

You think this is how you should strive in feeling for your natural space,
you think this is how to find the berth you’ve now displaced.

Consuming each bothered face brings you
no recognition of the dejection they're ingesting:

As the day for you begins again, you begin again, and
it again begins for your immediate discouraged hearts:

they're crying softly in their silent niche,
their private hole that gives them all permission to be threateningly loud,

And how reserved they are, and reserved is all they can be
when they’re residing in the niche provided by your disease.

This is how I perceive those who are in need of help, but do not realize it. How many like that do you know? I'm positive there has to be one immediate relation to everybody who is dealing with an addiction. So please, try to not let that happen. Look out for those near to you.

BC

Do I dare write a book?

2006-07-26T19:41:00.000-04:00

I've been bold enough to have designed a cover for a book I haven't even written.

There isn't a title on it, it's just a picture.

It's a picture of an overflowing garbage bag spilling out onto a white floor with a pair of flip flops at the very edge of the scraps.

Where did the idea come from?

Hell if I know. The fact of the matter is that writers don't justify ideas. Ideas come, they become words or to expand to be more inclusive or all artists, they become images or whatever. [The word whatever is an idea in itself, it means that although I've said that I'm going to be inclusive and acknowledge artists other than writers, I could care less about painters, drawers, graphic designers ... whatever.]

So I have this cover of a book that I haven't even begun to write. I have this idea. This garbage & flip flops. Garbage and flip flops that I don't need to justify because I'm a ... an ... artist. But I've created this image in your head, this image of a full garbage bag [the green kind with a red tying thing], tipping over and spilling its contents all over a clean white floor, stuff like: spaghetti with lots of tomato sauce, overcooked something or other, paper and general disgusting-ness and then a random pair of flip flops. Flip flops. What's with the flip flops?!

The garbage you might be able to understand. It can be satirical: "Inside this book you're going to read about a guy whose life is garbage, everything he touches turns into garbage, everyone he knows thinks he's garbage ... whatever." There's a lot happening just in the heap of trash. It could be something as simple as the book could be about a garbage man who likes to wear flip flops on the job. Messy but possible.

But I don't need to justify it because I have an artistic license.

The thing about it is that the simple idea of this image catches your attention, no?

When people ask me questions about things that I've written, how I feel about them or the best "where did the idea come from?", I give the most round-about answer possible. Something like, "well, I was sitting on the john..." or "I was staring into my fish bowl" (which isn't entirely off, I sometimes do get great ideas while in the loo and I once named a website I created "Clean Your Fishbowl.com"). But as a idea man, I have no idea how to justify anything I do.

CJ;

I am a pop culture slut

2006-07-23T21:29:00.000-04:00

There are no ifs, ands or buts about it.

I keep up on celebrity gossip, watch the highest rated shows, see the most talked about movies, read the best selling books; the only thing I might slip on every now and then is music. I don't care much for the music scene. I think music is a taste, it isn't something that should be critiqued or that songs should be placed one above the other. Out of television, movies, literature and music, music is the most unique. However, I digress.

I digress so far that I haven't been able to say that I have come to the realization that I am a pop culture slut because I have done the same thing past seven summers. I succumb to the 'surviving without Survivor' blues and fill my reality TV gullet by relishing in the British turned American sensation that is Big Brother.

I know, I know ... why am I wasting my time writing about reality TV? I haven't posted in weeks and this is what I come back with ... well, yes. Why? Because this is my summer. Big Brother. 16 people locked in a house, competing against each other to half a mill. It's Survivor turned urban nightmare and it happens every summer.

Generously chested women in bikinis.
Conniving assholes whispering behind closed doors.
A guy making an entire suit out of tin foil and wearing it on national television.
This is my kind of entertainment.

I would encourage anyone who wants to criticize my appreciation for reality TV to tune into Big Brother (Tuesdays, Thursdays, Sundays at 8 on CBS). Before you comment on my lack of credible taste, do some research. Cheer for Chicken George.

Who's Chicken George?

Watch and find out.

All we are saying is give peace a chance...

2006-07-18T20:17:00.000-04:00

Do you think that in our life time we will ever see the outcome of those words written by John Lennon?

I used to be an idealist, a believer that maybe some day this could happen. That maybe one day the human race would wake up and realize that war and violence is not the solution. I’m not sure that we will ever come to that conclusion. In fact war and violence has been a part of human nature and solution for conflict since the beginning. The bible is full of war and battles. (Forgive me on the vagueness of that statement, I know very little about the bible and such wars that are documented in it) However I do know that God kicked Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden to fend for themselves, and that in itself seems to be an act of violence and cruelty. (That might be just my opinion)
The road to peace is scattered with death and violence and hate. I’ve been trying to think of a time in human history when there hasn’t been a war. Especially in the last century we cannot say that the world has truly had peace since at least WW1. Since then there has been WW2, the Vietnam war, the cold war, the gulf war, the genocide in Rwanda and now the war against terror.
It’s all just bull shit isn’t it?
This idea of peace.
How can there be peace in the world when so many of us hate one another. George Bush right now is trying to make a democracy out of Iraq. Doesn’t anybody realize that it is never going to work? Iraq is a country divided into groups that only want to kill each other, how the hell are they going to cooperate democratically when they can’t be near one another without trying to blow the other one up?
And the Israelis are bombing Lebanon. And Darfur is experiencing a horrendous genocide. That was in the news for a while, but where did it go? Gone. Yesterday’s news.
That’s the biggest problem we have in today’s society, we talk about one thing for a while then move on to the next. People don’t really know what’s going on outside their own little bubble, and nor do they really care because after all its on the other side of the world and if we can’t hear about it or see it we don’t have to feel guilty for sitting by and letting innocent people die.

I’m finding it very hard to be optimistic in today’s world. Sorry John, but Imagining just doesn’t cut it for me anymore.

~Tegan

Intertextuality in Books

2006-07-13T22:33:00.000-04:00

Have you recently read anything and gone.. WHHAA?

Originality is a strikingly difficult topic to discuss; what has been done has been done and will be done again, right? There is a plethora of literature, studied in classes or read for fun, that find their roots in other stories.

I hate that.

Many author's make direct references to other works and expect their audience to make the textual link: this is supposed to make their work more deep, more brilliant. But I don't see it that way.

It's a cop-out.

Is it really the case that we have run out of things to write about? Have we tapped every possible human quirk and jolt? Literature is not like music is, as music has a mathematical orientation with set scales and patterns. Still, music continues to be reinvented (the Wooten brother, Futureman, has broken down music notation into eighth tones and then some). In terms of literature, not only are styles of writing changing with the ever-increasing use of "internet talk," but our experiences and perspectives are changing as well. Our existence is not a continuous beam of light, there is progression be it for better or worse.

So why am I reading book after book that relies on what has already been said or discovered. If the modernists of the 20th century can reinvent writing, what are we doing wrong?

~BC

Institutionalizing Abstractions

2006-07-07T14:49:00.000-04:00

Perspective.

You are a well-rounded individual, ready to lunge at opportunity, always happy to be of service, curious, with a tasteful sense of humour, and a dash of cunning mixed with intelligence. But you were diagnosed with Downe Syndrome at birth.

Birth abnormalities are defined as defects. Consider this, nothing in this world can truly satisfy abstract concept of "perfect." "Perfect" is a human convention, an ideal sense of self or place. Why is it that an abnormality at birth, such as Downe Syndrome, is not perfect?

Before the mid-1970's, children diagnosed with Downe Syndrome at birth were institutionalized "for their own good."

Downe Syndrome children do not fit the human concept of perfection. They are not normal children, therefore, their existence must harbour negative connotations: flawed DNA, retarded, emotionally inept, unresponsive to certain stimuli.

Difference is not defective.

People scare too easily at the thought of change. Can't a Downe Syndrome child offer a family a new perspective on life? In adulthood, those with Downe Syndrome are of the happiest people I've ever encountered. They are not oblivious: seeing the world in clear terms is what humanity's quest for "perfection" has distorted. To look so hard for utopia when life is kicking you in the face is retarded.

See life for life,
people for people
and not for perfection.

~BC

Some people should be made sterile at birth

2006-07-03T19:10:00.000-04:00

As a camp director with four years under my belt, I feel like I have seen it all.

I have inspected swim shorts looking for poop stains after someone pooped in the swimming pool [to find out who done it].
I have had the beauty of my nose threatened by an irrate father.
I have had counsellors lose children. Enough said.

But I am 100% convinced that some parents have been conditioned to forget the nurturing aspect of their parental profession causing me to argue that there are some people in the world that should not be given the right to procreate.

Today, as a group of my kids [campers] were eating their lunch, a young Downe Syndrome boy rode his bike [alone] into the pavillion where my campers were eating. He dragged his bike up onto the stage and I swear that I thought he was going to ride it down the stairs and hurt himself. See this, I decided that I was going to stay and make sure said incident did not occur. After an hour, no one had come looking for him and the thought that children's aid might need to become involved crossed my mind ... long story short, the mother eventually showed up [after CAS and an ambulance had been called] and she was rather harsh with the kid. I don't think I have ever been so angry with a parent [even my own].

There are times when I wonder what goes through the mind of some people when it comes to the safety and security of their children.

I can say that as a child, my parents gave me the freedom to be independent and be adventurous: I followed train tracks, climbed metal fences, wandered forests. But now, in the twenty first century where every news cycle highlights a child that has gone missing, been killed or abused, independence just doesn't happen.

So I wonder ... why would a mother let her Downe syndrome son out of her sight even for a second regardless of his ability?

CJ;

Wet-Wallet Aches

2006-06-30T14:58:00.000-04:00

Home from class, work, whatever. Wait. Wait for it.

Friends come late, it’s now after eight and they were supposed to be here for seven-thirty. You’ve gotten pissed in the meantime waiting for them – drunk on dollar beer or crisp vodka.

Savor this drunken moment for a second.

Okay, everyone’s here but there’s drama because “Princess so-and-so’s” still not ready or “Knight McKnighterson” is already coaxing his half-clad dame. Just leave them behind because if you don’t you’ll be sobering up pretty soon.

The venue choice is simple, you’re part of the group that knows everyone there – Cheers? – cheers and laughter inevitably await. But there is a problem. You only have fourteen dollars to your name your bank account rings in at minus-three-and-sixty-four-cents credit-card-one is set full and credit-card-two is mommy and daddy’s spiritual-fund account, so options are obvious: drink the cheapest-freakin’ beverage you can afford so you can ensure your future sloshidness tonight.

Again,
savor this drunken moment for a second.

Besides the fact that you’re standing in a room full of people who might owe you a drink or four and that drinking the cheapest alcoholic liquid seems to make the most sense, stop and think about it. The booze is cheap for a reason.

In the already inebriated state you find yourself in, are you willing to pay for the cheaper prostitute, the one you may have forgotten to put your condom on with and thus suffer whatever interesting venereal disease you might have in your wake? Or would you prefer to take the time and avoid these things by accepting this disgusting analogue for buying a more expense “premium” drink.

The slosh that comes cheaply is synonymous with antiseptic.

“Premium” drinks are labeled “premium” for a reason. Yes, as you reach your hand in to your pocket for the money you mean to spend on the cheapest beverage that can potentially offer you the most vicious hangover you’ve had yet, let your highly dehydrated brain consider that drinking a finer boozy water will keep you

A) just as drunk
B) less hung over depending on what you drank before you left your house because you’re not
C) ingesting whatever wasn’t filtered out of the extremely cheap beverage you spy to buy, and D) you look classy as a connoisseur.

Some reasons preventing you from buying a “premium” beverage are because you have no idea what you’re buying. Don’t be shy about it. Ask: the bartender will be more than happy to see that they’re not selling you the puke that everyone else consumes because it’s cheap. If you’re too drunk to ask, keep in mind that the next time you go shopping for your slosh the employees at your store of choice are paid and qualified for a reason. Trying something new never hurts, especially with the incredible variety of flavour available from all over the world. The customizable six-pack is a commodity not meant for you to take for granted.

Still, you are hesitant to buy “premium” because it’s a buck or two more expensive then the liquid garbage your body aches to consume, the key word being aches because the amount of preservatives that are present in cheap beverages are ten-fold. Why do you think you’re paying the extra buck? The slosh that comes cheaply is synonymous with antiseptic - devoid of an enriching quality.

Regardless, there is no shame in drinking the cheap drink, but keep in mind that the world of the premium beverage is an extraordinary place of flavour, great aftertastes, of huge variety in cultural origin, and not to mention the rad-looking glasses to swish the liquid in (if served correctly). Drinking to get drunk for as cheaply as possible can only be done in the comforts of your own home. Visiting your most favourite venue is going to put a dent in your pocket regardless of the type of drink you choose to consume.

~BC

What we (I?) have become

2006-06-27T13:46:00.000-04:00

It’s been a while I know.

I’ve been busy. (Same old excuse everyone uses)

But it is true. I work five days a week, sometimes six. 8 hours a day. Starting at either 6 or 630 am. It gets exhausting. When I get home my Mum has usually left me some instructions for cooking dinner. After I have cooked and cleaned up the dishes I just want to relax, maybe read a bit. I’m in bed at 10 every night.
I am not ashamed to admit that.
The other day I very suddenly felt like I was my mother with the exception of not having kids and well… only being 19. Working all day and coming home and cooking dinner for her family and although wanting to do other things was too tired from the day that all she did was go to bed. I found myself respecting my Mum so much more then I ever have. Two full time jobs and she hardly ever let me see how trying it all was. I see it more now as I am getting older and can recognize things outside of my own little world. And it gives me pleasure to be able to return some of that caring she gave to me and my siblings growing up. To have dinner ready for her when she gets home so she doesn’t have to cook is nice.
And so this is my excuse for not posting. I am making it all up to my Mum. (Well some of it.)

I have found time in my hermit life to get out a bit and do some slightly less boring things then work and dinner.
One thing that I love doing where I live is going for walks (sounding older every minute aren’t I?) But in a town that is increasingly being over run by the suburb - mania craze that is taking hold of Ontario, it is nice to get out into what used to be my playground. There are certain places that are still forest and bush and wild. I walk there with my neighbour and friend since the day I was born. Every time we go for one of our walks we see deer or a beaver, we’ve seen muskrats. All this just hidden behind a clump of trees at the end of someone’s fenced in yard. I wonder if these people realize what is living right behind them. It is always a shock for me to come out of the bush only yards away from a subdivision after feeling as though I am miles away from people.

The changing landscape is taking a toll on our natural environment and us.

Here I was apologizing for not being able to do something that I love to do; write, because I was too busy living a life that doesn’t leave time for enjoyment.

Sad really.
Makes you think.

~EmmaT

The damaging affect you have on your pets

2006-06-25T14:44:00.000-04:00

If you haven't noticed yet, I have a fascinations with cultures.

The man bashing culture.
The boob culture.

Now, the pet culture.

In a report that I just happened to catch this passed Saturday on Good Morning America, the pet culture has become a driving market in the everyday lives of animal lovers everywhere.

The report outlined new measures being taken by some American hotel chains to provide accomodations for travelers who want to be able to bring their four-legged companions along for their business trips and vacations. Dogs, cats and even fish have become welcome in these hotels which provide services such as professional grooming, daily fish feeding and even pet massages.

Yes, pet massages.

Likewise, along with these changes to hotel policy and hospitality toward pets, airlines have also become lenient when it comes to furry traveling companions by providing on board treats and even pet specific bottled water.

By no means am I not an animal lover.

However ...

A car seat for a dog?
Various outfits and clothes to dress up cats?
Miniature coffins for fish after they go belly up?
Please.

CJ;

Eating Chiwawas

2006-06-22T02:59:00.000-04:00

Do you have any idea what you're eating?

Lets breathe in History for a second ladies and gents:

Imagine Italian food without tomatoes; England without tea; Portugal without pastry; Eurasia without sugar and cocoa; North America without horses; Ireland with no potato... getting the picture?

How many of us truly understand the scope of globalization?

Besides the spread of diseases, which would be a depressing post, the European Overseas Expansion (1500-1800ish) is responsible for everything we are today, from what we consume, to dress and technology.

But no horses in the Americas? Horses were extinct in North American since the pre-historic era. An incredible majority of animals, including horses, were selected and brought over by Europeans during their initial expansion. Spain, for example, mined silver and utilized mules who formed "trains" from the mine to the coast, thus allowing the silver to be transported and loaded on vessels to fulfill European mercantilist ambitions. But back to food.

The indigenous population of Mexico were hired by the Spanish to work as miners. Europeans at the time of expansion had an incredibly high protein diet in comparison to the natives they attempted to conquer. Arriving in Mexico with specific food preferences, the Europeans saw it fit that they provide their flavour for the natives. In needing to supply food to the miners, who were far from any food source, the Spanish decided that their favoured red-meat has four legs and could walk itself to the mines: voila roast beef.

Now imagine:
You are nearly a Vegan.
You've never eaten meat,
or consumed dairy,
and have been asked to replace your entire diet with flesh.

How many people do you know that are lactose intolerant? Or certain meats bother their stomach, or have indigestion due to high levels of acid consumed in tomato sauce?

Needless to say, the hungry native miners succumbed to this change in diet. This inevitably resulted in a change of culture, allowing us to associate foods with specific peoples: the northern Mexicans ranch cattle, thus sharing a partial identity with the southern states.

This applies to any and all of the foods you are consuming. Think about where it came from the next time you take a bite, or have a drink, or put on a shirt. Starting in the sixteenth century, globalization brought new plants, animals, disease and customs to isolated cultures all over the world. Items were exchanged and planted, harvested and sold, popularized and hated.

Maize, "the miracle crop" has taken over two-centuries for our digestive system to cope with. But it has fed the mouths of many poor. Same goes for the potato, feeding a rapidly growing demographic in Ireland, catching a plant disease and causing famine. This foreign potato plant, which originated and South America and once grown strictly as a decorative plant (its leaves proven poisonous when consumed), caused demographic growth and decline; it determined the History of the Irish.

Look this stuff up! You might be surprised when you find out what Italy tasted like without ever having tomatoes.

~BC

Oh.. and the Chiwawa thing... they were bred for food in South America before the Europeans domesticated them. Eurasians love dogs and cats.
(Thank you to my History professor for enlightening me).

You can't argue this

2006-06-20T23:36:00.000-04:00

"I don't get many things right the first time ... in fact, I am told that a lot"

- "The Luckiest", a song by Ben Folds

I am inherently wrong.

Oddly, it's not as painful to admit that as I thought it might be.

I make assertions and assumptions on a daily basis that usually result in me eating crow.

Yum.

In reality however, the fact of the matter is that I don't genuinely believe myself to be an authority on really much at all. I talk big and act big and overall, everything about me is just big.

Teehee.

... I once heard someone say "I don't know much about anything at all but the things I do know about, I know everything" ... or at least it was something to that affect. And I truly believe that people don't spend enough time asserting their talents.

So what the hell can I do? ... and not be wrong ...

Well, I can write. Granted.

I can cook relatively well because I was taught to do it relatively well and sometimes I've even taught myself a thing or two.

I can paint. I can draw. Take pictures. Drink beer. Debate. Drive a car. Climb a tree.

I discuss this quite a bit but there is a societal stigma about men and that is that men are less intelligent, more abrasive and stubborn, and forever more likely to be wrong than women. [Insert Tegan's comments here.]

And I believe this stigma to be true. Men are less intelligent than women: because we want to be.

There are perks to being wrong -- specifically: NO ONE EXPECTS ANYTHING FROM YOU!

Accolades are more frequent.
People are more impressed when you do something right / are right.
And you don't need to be bothered with trying to deal with the stress of outdoing anyone else.

Being wrong is something that should be embraced. Being wrong is an opportunity to see the bottom of the barrell and there's no where to go but up [unless you stay down, in which case ...] I could include a whole paragraph here about the duffus television characters like Raymond and Tim the Toolman who make people laugh simply because they represent the everyday "wrong man" with the "always right, always forgiving" wives.

Men should feel free to be wrong. Let women take on the world. They'll have to be wrong too at some point.

Won't they? CJ;

The Dead Art: Poetry

2006-06-20T00:22:00.000-04:00

In adolescence, we've all known of a friend who wrote poetry who wrote of love, death, hate, etcetera. But where do these writers disappear? Many youngsters stop writing once they feel they have grown out of it. However, there appears to be a natural impulse to write poetics for self expression. From these youthful poems there survives raw energy unscathed by shoddy wording; this energy is quintessential to any poem because it carries the spirit of its author:

"the fires rustle dreams only / there is no light. no heat / of destruction of wood"
- Kamau Brathwaite, Krow

This stanza of Brathwaite can characterize the potential of words etched on a page. For example, energy is self-contained when an author refuses to share their work. Poetry for centuries was a medium for communicating views of science, politics, and human nature, providing the necessary commentaries and criticisms that we now obtain from new forms of media: television, newspapers, the internet - all sources that appear to be majorly streamlined for our easy consumption.

"Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods / Over his shoulder, going down and down / For the good turf. Digging."

"Between my finger and my thumb / The squat pen rests. / I'll dig with it."
- Seamus Heaney, Digging

Heaney digs to uncover the rich and meaningful 'sod' of life, claiming his pen is "snug as a gun." The language of poetry offers rhythms and sonics that are used to convey an emotional layer that cannot be received from the streamlined media I previously referred to. I accept that these media have imagery, like poetry does, to assist in getting its point across, but the rhythm and sound inherent in crafted poetry remains untouched.

In returning to the adolescents whose will to write seems to whittle away with age, I believe it is of the utmost importance for anyone to continue writing. The art of poetry is a powerful tool neglected in the education systems of Ontario (and elsewhere). Teachers are unable to express the power of language because most of them do not comprehend it themselves. Writing poetry, no matter of the quality is a start for achieving a therapeutic expression. It can be a selfless act, provide a personal or educated critique of an event, or it can be completely self indulgent in order to discover personal values.

So find some of your old poetry, read over it. There may be something there you needed to work out at that moment in your life. Make note of it and attempt to describe how you feel now, how you have changed or haven't for that matter. Why was it important that you wrote it down in the first place? Don't dismiss it as adolescent garbage. If you can't find any old work try writing the first few thoughts that come to you. Why those? Expand on them. It will be glorious.

Finding self-expression through crafting your own poetry could be very beneficial. It takes time and you must be prepared to work on it. Earlier, when I referred to well-crafted poetry, I hoped to allude to the time it takes to prepare rhythms and sound. Some famous poets lack an education, some do not, but it is not impossible to start learning again.

As for teachers who do not understand the gift of language, I am not pointing blaming them - we all have our own passions. Yet there seems to be a compulsion to avoid the of teaching poetry all together. While it may seem contradictory that I compose this article in prose, but the argument has to start somewhere.

If anyone has any questions about my poetic values please shoot.

~BC

Busking

2006-06-15T11:48:00.000-04:00

If you busk, you better not suck.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, busking is playing music on the street with your instrument case held open to accept drunk/sober people's money. Being a musician, I've taken advantage of this cultural commodity myself - a student has to live right? It's a great way to earn beer-bucks.

I refer to it as a cultural commodity because most buskers in Peterborough aren't broke, well, really broke, have usually nice equipment, and are generally drunk themselves. Those playing to make a living - because they can't get work at a fast-food restaurant - probably don't work well with other people... I mean why else do they play by themselves? They are the ones who set the busking standard. Their code is how us priviledged buskers must live. You are your own star!

This morning I got my haircut by a very wealthy man, an incredibly in tune socialite of the Peterborough music scene. I was taken back because he knew exactly what I was referring to, but what really got me is that when we got on the topic of buskers, he told me that he's hired those at LCBOs for $20 or so to play his garden for an afternoon, where he'd entertain guests who insist that they introduce them to his musician friend (whom he doesn't know the first name of).

With a laugh I said you can't really hire music more local than that!

After thinking over this conversation for about an hour, I've decided that perhaps I should drop out of school and become a full-time busker. Some of these guys in downtown Toronto easily make over $100 a day. Although, something tells me a freezing cold saxophone doesn't sound so good in mid-winter, so perhaps I shall remain a hungry writer.

Thus, if the busker doesn't suck, tip 'em if you've got change. They might be the next big thing (at your garden party).

~BC

Empty Coke can

2006-06-14T13:46:00.000-04:00

Even that is a story.

The story of the empty Coke can. What's the story?

Well, I went to the fridge and got myself a Coke. The can was cold. I tilted the metal tab, the carbon bubbles fizzled and I drank it.

But there's more to it than just ... that.

I was trying to stay awake, to shake "the sleepies" if you will, and I knew that Coke would give me the sugar buzz to stay awake so ... I went to the fridge and got myself a Coke. The can was cold. I tilted the metal tab, the carbon bubbles fizzled and I drank it.

But then, there's even more to THAT!

I had to get up early yesterday morning [at 7:30] to catch the bus to go to the Trent Campus so getting up early caused me to want to have a nap but instead I wanted to [try] to stay awake, to shake "the sleepies" if you will, and I knew that Coke would give me the sugar buzz to stay awake so ... I went to the fridge and got myself a Coke. The can was cold. I tilted the metal tab, the carbon bubbles fizzled and I drank it.

Wait, there's more!

The bus that goes to the Trent campus only runs at specific, yet ridiculous, times each day. So, preferring to take the bus over walking or bike riding to the campus, I had to get up early yesterday morning [at 7:30] to catch the bus to go to the Trent Campus. Getting up earlier than usual caused me to want to have a nap but instead I wanted to [try] to stay awake, to shake "the sleepies" if you will, and I knew that Coke would give me the sugar buzz to stay awake so ... I went to the fridge and got myself a Coke. The can was cold. I tilted the metal tab, the carbon bubbles fizzled and I drank it.

You guessed it ...

I was going to the Trent campus because I was registered to attend a games seminar to gather ideas for the day camp. [But, t]he bus that goes to the Trent campus only runs at specific, yet ridiculous, times each day. So, preferring to take the bus over walking or bike riding to the campus, I had to get up early yesterday morning [at 7:30] to catch the bus to go to the Trent Campus. Getting up earlier than usual caused me to want to have a nap but instead I wanted to [try] to stay awake, to shake "the sleepies" if you will, and I knew that Coke would give me the sugar buzz to stay awake so ... I went to the fridge and got myself a Coke. The can was cold. I tilted the metal tab, the carbon bubbles fizzled and I drank it.

This proves three things:

1) Even an empty Coke can can be a story.
2) Everything can be traced back to a single event or sequence of events.
3) Regardless of the sugar buzz from drinking a Coke, I will take a nap anyway.

CJ;

Proof of my pre-occupation

2006-06-13T22:46:00.000-04:00

The Subculture that is the Penis

2006-06-11T21:23:00.000-04:00

I read Chris’ post about Boob culture and I have to admit I don’t think it is nearly as big as the Penis culture.

Yes. The Penis culture.

I am not going to pretend to be an expert on why guys seem to think that the bigger the dick the bigger the man they are. Just because you have a big penis does not necessarily mean that you are good in bed. Nor does a penis determine your moral character which overall is the most important thing.

Just like a girl choosing to wear a shirt that accentuates her cleavage, a guy will wear a shirt that makes a reference to his manhood. (Insert eye roll here) Every time I see a guy with a shirt that says something like “The Man” with an arrow pointing to his face with another arrow pointing down saying “The Legend” it just makes me think he has to compensate for something. I mean really do guys seriously think that wearing a shirt like that will get them laid??

Boob culture is big mainly because society today has made it impossible for young girls to not feel as though they need to show their breasts. But Penis culture is huge because men always have to talk about how big they are. I know a guy who every time I see him he will tell us all just how big he is. He also likes to talk about how his son takes after him in that department. His son is one. That’s pathetic. Having a big penis makes a guy feel like he’s invincible or something (I assume) I don’t really know why there is the obsession with it all. It’s just a penis; they are only good for one thing. (But yes that one thing is pretty damn important!)

~Tegan

The subculture that are boobs

2006-06-11T11:43:00.000-04:00

Yes. Breasts. Boobs. Insert other various names. Leave out "hooters".

In considering what I would write about for my latest post, a Internet popup sprang onto my screen. The ad was for a tanning cream but the actual picture of the cream itself was about only a corner of the image; the rest was a generously beautiful brunette in a red bikini with her assets clearly presented.

Use the tanning cream, grow boobs.

Not the message of the ad.

Use the tanning cream, become hot like this brunette chick in the bikini and grow boobs.

I love boobs.

Breasts are a selling point behind most major products, they are the over stereotyped 'way women get what they want' - show some wrack & you've got a job, and they are a chief factor in negotiating at least 50% of all women's self-esteem.

Boobs have become their own sub-culture. The Boob Culture.

There isn't a person who hasn't seen the following scene in either a TV show or movie:

A woman [we'll call her Carla]: Carla wants a job. Her friend Shiela said the guy - GUY - interviewing Carla is a real chauvinist, likes to stare. So, against her own better judgment and her self-respect, Carla wears a low cut shirt OR in some other way accentuates her boobs in order to make herself memorable to ... Stan ... and she gets the job.

... Later Carla goes to Stan and tells him that she shouldn't have done that, conveys that she's fiercely conservative and demands that the female body be respected. All this while she wears a turtleneck. Stan fires her.

That's boob culture.

Not the fact that Stan is a chauvinist and that he fired her for not being provacative. And nevermind the fact that he hired her for her breasts because the boob culture doesn't have anything to do with breasts. It's all about the idea of breasts.

It's the idea that Carla had breasts, was willing to put them on display and thus her breasts became a symbol for 1) her appreciation of her sexuality, 2) an expression of her feminity and 3) the fact that she probably liked to have fun [not sex, fun meaning she wasn't uptight or concerned with other people's perception of her].

Boob Culture. It's real.

CJ;

I'd give a couple stem cells for a clone

2006-06-07T10:16:00.000-04:00

"Cloning is a great idea, I could use some help around the house."
- From CJ's "Things I've Learned"

There is absolutely nothing wrong with cloning.

In 2001, U.S. President Bush banned the use of federal research funds for use in the pursuit of stem cell research. In contrast, Canada has pumped $5.3 million dollars into stem cell projects [although these projects are for therapeutic purposes.]

The ban on the use of federal research money in the U.S. does not stop private investors from funding stem cell projects, which is exactly what has happened at Harvard.

"Our long-term goal is to create embryonic stem cells from a patient's tissues, correct the genetic defects, and get the repaired cells back into the patients," said George Daley, who will lead one research project at Boston Children's Hospital.

The actual controversy is over the use of human embryos which may or may not be classified as living human beings. The lab at Harvard will use donor eggs and embryos left over from in-vitro fertilization (IVF) treatment.

The notion that someday these cells could be used to clone a human being is very real. Beyond that, there's the possibility that stem cells could be used to repair tissue, cure diseases like Parkinson's and probably even more ...

And I think it's cool.

I've often wondered if I were cloned, if my 'other me' would share my opinions, talents ... obviously he wouldn't share my same thoughts but could he cook gumbo as good as mine?

It's like that movie Multiplicity with Michael Keaton; you know that one where he finds that life is becoming too hectic so he has himself cloned. You'd know it if you saw it. Turns out, Keaton's clones all have different personalities: from super macho to super feminine to incredibly stupid.

The only rough part is that I'd probably get so lost in the group of me that I'd forget that I was the real one.

It's the typical scene: you have two of one guy and they argue over which one was the first.

Worse, my apartment isn't big enough for more than one of me.

I guess ultimately the larger fear is that some looney tune will get ahold of cloning technology and will create a super army. Wow, that has science fiction written all over it. More realistically it's probably something like the mass production of a virus or something like anthrax. Remember anthrax?

On a domestic standpoint, the idea of having a clone to help out around the house, pick up groceries, go out to work, pretty much do all the things I don't want to do is a great idea. You're your own slave.

If only everyone lived in my world. We'd all have our own clone. CJ;

Open for Debate

2006-06-06T01:22:00.000-04:00

Use the comments to respond to the following.

In a recent article by Carol J. Williams, a writer for the Los Angeles Times entitled "Terrorist Plot Shatters Peaceable Canadian Self-Image", Williams argues that following the arrest of 17 youths and men over this passed weekend, who are accused of being influenced by al-Qaida, Canada has had its 'peaceful' image shattered or at least damaged. Williams outlines that "One school of thought gaining traction in explaining why Canada could become a terror target to Muslim extremists is its very liberal, consumer-oriented and socially permissive nature." One individual interviewed for the article says that he came to Canada because he felt it was safe and that if terrorist threats are now present in our nation, people will be afraid to come here.

Do you think Canada is now more susceptible to terrorist attacks?

Do you think Williams is right, that Canada has lost part of its 'peaceable' nature after a terrorist cell has been publicly arrested?

Do you think, on a world scale, that because of the acknowledgment of terrorist cells in Canada that Canada has become even more "related" to the United States and Britain?

MY GLASSES!!

2006-06-06T01:10:00.000-04:00

I hate glasses.

Wearing them.
Cleaning them.
Switching them for sun glasses,
getting my finger prints on them
rain drop-wetness
and acquiring spit from close talkers

BUT WORST OF ALL
THOSE FREAKIN' PEOPLE WHO PUT THEIR SMUDGY FINGERPRINTS IN THE CENTER OF YOUR LENSES ON PURPOSE!

*breathes*

Okay. I've vented. However, I left something out. I'm near-sided which essentially means I can't see distant landscapes so well. Because of this, when I observe anything in the proximity of my given single metre of good vision, all the while peering through "correctional lenses," whatever the object is, appears further than it should.

Two issues with this:

1) There should be a disclaimer:
"Objects are further than they appear" - there's nothing worse than getting up in the middle of the night, putting on your glasses out of habit, smacking on the light while consecutively crushing your finger nails in the dresser drawer because you thought your hand was safe from its deathly-crevice.

Yes.. this is a wee bit of an over exaggeration but work with me here because it leads into #2.

2) Bi-focals, where the "bi" of the "foc" has zero prescription.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not bashing bi-focals - I'll probably need tri-focals with age - but being an avid reader I find it impossible to read with my glasses on because of the "objects are further than they appear" issue. However! at least once or twice a week some schmo will see me reading and say "Uhh.. hey man, uhh, you're not supposed to be reading under your glasses... not good for your eyes."

Of course I see this comment as rhetoric.

I am going to read under my glasses as long as I'm not doing intense reading; for example, reading the newspaper while enjoying a cup of ________ (insert your preference). In casual reading, in a context such as this, the chances that I will raise my head to view the on goings around me are large - I'm a curious person by nature. Thus, by putting on and taking off my damned glasses to observe, who knows, maybe say hi to some buddies passing by, every two seconds, JUST so I can scan my text.. well... is frustrating and utterly pointless!

So, to the people who tell me that I shouldn't read under my glasses... Lets have you wear them for a day and see how convenient it is to take them on and off while avoiding finger dust, spilt beverages, greasy eyebrow marks, and my favourite of all: having OTHER PEOPLE MOVE THEM while getting them all custy (because you can just clean them again), juuuuuust so you can read casually.

~BC

Cow Poop. The New Celebrity.

2006-06-04T19:56:00.000-04:00

It’s funny how conversations can start. One minute you are sitting around the kitchen table talking about fame and celebrities and then next you can be talking about cow poop.

Weird.

It may seem like an odd transition but there is actually logic behind it. My Dad and I were talking about how fame affects people and how it can take a toll on you to have photographers following you around all day taking pictures and trying to sell a story. This lead to the discussion on what sells and how people run magazines. It was agreed that at this point in time celebrity sells. My Dad said “I mean you can’t sell a magazine that only talks about cow poop now can you?”

Well Dad, we are going to find out about that. Chris what do you say, shall we do an issue that is devoted entirely to the many uses of cow poop? I’ve already got it figured out. We will have a farming article one that talks about using it as fertilizer, an alternative fuel article (did you know that cars can run on cow manure? I’ve seen it done on a British Car show). We can talk about cow patty fights. I don’t know how many people have had one of those. (That might be another story) We can have a “This is as good as Cow Poop…” with regards to a bad concert or album or book or movie or food.

I think it would work. :)

~T

Take pride in your wife beater but wear a blazer with it

2006-06-04T10:46:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine, whom shall remain nameless but who I include in my posts quite often, went to his first wedding this weekend.

A mutual girl friend asked him to be her date and he accepted.

Hesitantly.

For the passed month [since the initial invitation], this friend of mine has been mulling over a question that for men oftentimes has a simple answer:

What do I wear?
Do I rent a tux? A suit?
Or
Do I buy something?

This friend of ours, the girl, is a conscientious dresser. Having something in mind, her argument was that "every grown man should have dress clothes." To say that the guy doesn't have dress clothes is a lie. He has the dark red tie and the jet black shirt we bought for his Halloween costume.

However, I don't disagree. "Grown men" should have dress clothes. Wardrobe should not only consist of t-shirts, wife beaters, jeans, shorts and the odd shirt with a collar [unironed].

I admire any guy that can pull of a wife beater. I certainly can't.

Ultimately, my friend decided that he would make the investment and buy a blazer, a collared shirt and a pair of black dress pants [which he intends to return to Wal-Mart after this weekend].

Mark Twain said, "Clothing makes the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society."

Women like a man in dress clothes: a tie, dress shirt, blazer, pants and shiney shoes. Especially when they're [the women] intoxicated. Not to mention they have a fine tuned appreciation, implanted in them by their mothers, for men who take the time to make themselves look good.

That isn't to say that a guy has to look like he's going to a wedding all the time.

Wearing the same collared shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, with a pair of jeans and the jacket does well for itself. CJ;

Greatest Invention Ever

2006-06-01T16:59:00.000-04:00

A good friend of mine is a personal trainer and he claims that if he were stuck on a desert island with only one piece of gym equipment he'd bring a body ball.

That's right. A ball for the body.

Big. Round.
Soft to touch.

Comes in blue pink or purple and in a variety of sizes.

Just throw in a couple of the "you're playing with your ball(s)" jokes and you can be sure that when you talk to your friends about putting it between your legs you'll be the laughing stock of the room.

But at least you'll be able to kick their asses with your newly formed muscles.. because body balls are amazing. I just recently picked up a 65cm in circumference purple body ball, and apart from the fact that it came from Canadian Tire and has the worst selling-point image possible on the box, I think it's the greatest investment I've made in a long time.

The simplicity of the ball is mind-bogglin'. You can do anything with it: push-ups, varieties of crunches, shoulders, back, legs, etc, etc. It's all low resistance work so you can do all exercises at any level of strength; this is because you're using your body's weight to do it all.

If you want to get your stabilizer muscles in shape get one.
I'm proud to say I now have three balls.

-BC

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Annnnnnd,
Chris and Tegan and fellow readers.
Thanks for the invite, it's a pleasure to write for you.

New writer, imagine that ...

2006-06-01T15:15:00.000-04:00

Tegan and I would like to welcome Brendan Benson to the TMJ team. This should lighten the load a little bit and get more posts more frequently. Keep reading. Keep commenting. Thanks Mom. Send the Tailor Made Journalist to all your friends. Make them read it. Make them comment! Welcome Brendan!

The end of an era

2006-05-30T15:45:00.000-04:00

No longer will you need those bowls and jars full of pennies this coming Halloween. No longer will the clinking clanking sound of coins accompany children as they march merrily down the street dressed as witches and Hulk Hogans. Do they still dress as Hulk Hogan? No longer will they aim that orange box up into your face asking for spare nickels and dimes after you've already given them candy that you could have been eating yourself. After 50 years, UNICEF has announced the cancellation of it's change collecting campaign that usually takes place every October 31st.

After consulting with parents and teachers, the United Nations Children's Fund has decided to put the card boxes to rest. I don't know about anybody else, but I felt stupid carrying that thing around my neck and my mom usually ended up filling it with pennies anyway. "The decision doesn't mean UNICEF is backing away from efforts to get children interested in fundraising" it says in a CBC news article, "Teachers will be given opportunities to organize educational activities, that include raising money for people in need."

Over the past 15 years, Canadians have donated an average of $3 million dollars every Halloween to UNICEF's orange box campaign.

The first time I visited a strip club ...

2006-05-30T01:23:00.000-04:00

As a result of overwhelming numbers, in fact 18 votes, it has been requested that I regail our loyal audience with the story of my first trip to a strip club. Thanks to all those who voted.

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Thursday's. The name of the Peterborough strip club. A place that is in fact a right of passage of any Trent student. Anyone who has not been to Thursday's has not fully experienced the Peterborough night life, or at least, the aspect of the Peterborough night life that is the ugly underbelly.

I was in second year, fresh out of a relationship and hungry to impress [something that hasn't really changed much with time]. I'd met Jessika and talked with her a bunch of times but had never actually been out with her. I'd talked big, acted cool and smooth like there wasn't anything in the world that shocked me anymore. I was some serious shit. Tall, brunette and assertive, Jessika asked if I'd ever experienced Thursday's. Experienced it? No. Heard that it was something "undescribable" and "can only be experienced first hand", yes. Her recommendation was that we meet at the other end of Peterborough and that we go to Thursday's for a drink and "watch the rippers". "Rippers" is a term that makes me laugh. Whenever I hear it, I think of its unlikely historical connection to Britain's infamous Jack the Ripper and his fascination with women who earned their income as casual prostitutes. I don't find the notion of Jack the Ripper funny but rather the fact that over a hundred years later, there's a sexual profession that denotes the infamous serial killer.

I met Jessika at a Tim Horton's about a block away from Thursday's and drove with her in her car, leaving my [mom's] van. What sort of small talk do you make with someone who you've never interacted with socially and are going to see strippers with? "Do you do this often"? Yes. No. Maybe. Never. I'm a stripper virgin. Oh God. My only hope was that I wouldn't get aroused and need to stay sitting at the table for the entire night or worse that she'd want to sit in this thing - perv's row - who knows what this girl was into.

The place was dark, the parkinglot was forboding but the entrance was decorated nicely with Christmas time icicle lights. I didn't want to do this. I wanted to pretend like I'd dropped a contact - she doesn't know me, she doesn't know I don't wear contacts, shut up, play it cool, go inside, follow her, damn, panzy. Much like outside, the inside wasn't much for decoration either. I expected a place where women sell their bodies for entertainment to be a little more ... something. What's the something? Homely? Yes I wanted a strip club to be homely. What? No. At the sight of Jessika, the audience rathered her be on the stage than the saggy breasted blond who, if I remember correctly, was bent over against a pole with her ass protruding from under a tattered jean skirt.

My current situation: a motherly blond is performing on stage, she is topless and her backside is bumpy. Men are cat calling my "date" as we sit toward the far side of the stage at a table that is hunter green, plastic patio furniture. The "waitress" has asked us if we would like a drink; Jessika orders a whiskey, I order a double. The music is Madonna. The patrons are restless for something interesting and younger. They encourage Jessika to take the stage and for a second, she considers the twenty bucks she can make but kindly declines. At the back of the joint, baseball is on. On tape. It's been recorded. The Blue Jays don't play in February. On the opposite side, behind a large pane of glass, the smoking room is also the lap dance room. The same "waitress" that brought us our drinks is now carrying a plate of chicken fingers and fries into this room and I wonder, "what's going to happen to those chicken fingers?"

We play pool in between "acts". Jessika wins because I let her. And because I'm really bad at pool.

The patrons here wear plaid and ball caps that cover their eyes. The only people they look at are the waitress, the woman on stage and Jessika. I'm wearing a collared shirt, jeans, a shiney belt and my hair is spiked. One of these things is not like the others. "He must be their pimp" they must think and I act the part, walking behind Jessika to the smoking room where she'll puff back a cigarette and comment how "that chick is doing everything all wrong." This is when I have a chance to look over the place's "menu": fish and chips, chicken fingers, fries, Lays chips. That's it. A bit ironic. Fish. Fingers. Chips. The innuendo wasn't lost on me but I thought better than to point it out to Jessika who is re-considering showing up the strippers with what she calls a "real act."

Drink count: 2. A whiskey. A Coke. These people must love me.

I talk Jessika out of dancing on the stage. She hasn't had that much to drink. Same as me though her interest in the community that resides here has grown and she starts asking our "waitress" questions about becoming a stripper, money and such. It's all in fun but the "waitress" answers candidly: "the money and the music sucks." Noted. I have started to just watch and listen, I've lost all my words. We sit in perv's row now and I do my best to shoot glares at any guy who looks at Jessika for more than a second. My head is turned in one direction, doing my glare and when I turn around, a set of breasts are in my face. Large. White. Huge nippled. Breasts. I do the motor boat. Brrrrrrrr. Jessika laughs and passes the stripper a 5.

The stage is bordered with 2 by 4s.

Jessika asks if I'd like a lap dance from the blond that was on the stage when we first came in. I answer with a vomiting sound; laughing, she suggests that we leave. Thursday's has turned out to be a dive compared to other strip clubs Jessika assures me. She says that others aren't like this. CJ;

Might get a little touchy ...

2006-05-22T00:16:00.000-04:00

If there's one thing I often avoid talking about, it's Iraq.

As Canadians, our view of what has happened or what is happening for that matter in the Middle East has been skewed. Our perception of the so-called 'War on Terror', the ousting of Saddam Hussein and the ongoing crusade to rid the world of any group or organization that dares to threaten the fundamental necessity of democracy is directed by two things: 1) CNN and American news transmitted to us from across this joke we call a border and 2) individual personal opinion of American foreign policy and of George W. Bush. I'm going to go out on an over-generalized limb and say that the average Canadian's discontent with the happenings in the Middle East has very little to do with what is actually happening - such as the commandeering of a country's right to govern itself as it sees fit, the occupation of oil fields or the daily murdering of soldiers and civilians - but rather our lack of support, for Iraq in particular, has to do with the simple fact that we hate George W. Bush.

One of the most interesting things I have heard someone say about the war in Iraq is that Iraqis do not want to live in a democratic society. The argument was that after living under a authoritarian government for so long, the Iraqi people are incapable of living productively under a system where punishment and fear are not the chief deterents for maintaining order and for ensuring that the society remains as productive as it had been. For over two decades, Iraqi people described Saddam Hussein as a "hero" for standing up to Israel and the United States. Hussein ruled with an iron fist, securing himself as the leader of the Iraqi government but at the same time, he fostered growth in Iraq's economy and wiped out some of the country's most prominent domestic issues. By the late 1970s, Iraq was providing social services that far exceeded any other Middle Eastern country including a program that sought the eradication of illiteracy and another that made education free for all Iraqis straight through the highest levels of schooling. The modernization of Iraq even earned Saddam Hussein an award from the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). Don't misunderstand me, the thought of living in a authoritarian or dictatorial government isn't appealing to me at all but quite likely that is because I have been conditioned to expect and appreciate my democratic rights as a North American.

Today, George W. Bush "welcomed" the new Iraqi "unity" government that has formed for the first time following the first democratic elections. Bush said "the formation of the unity government in Iraq begins a new chapter in our [U.S.] relationship with Iraq." Of course it does.

Do I support the war in Iraq? No.

Do I support a Canadian presence anywhere in the Middle East (including peace keeping)? No.

Do I support the ouster of Saddam Hussein from Iraq? No.

Do I think it's selfish to want Canadians to focus on what matters most, Canada? Yes and that's exactly how it should be.

As a "Western" people, as a nation that fears insurrection within our own borders and whose fate will eventually be 'the United States of Canada', we should have viamently condemned the invasion of Iraq. The fact of the matter is that for years, our own children and possibly our grandchildren will be forced to pay the costs of pursuing democracy for a nation that will forever be seeped in cultural disagreements and who, quite frankly, doesn't want it. Currently, I will owe thousands of dollars by the time I have completed my education in contrast to an Iraqi who receives his for free. People have a culture, a way of life that they are accustomed to and change to that lifestyle results in the images that we see on the news and the death toll numbers we hear on the radio.

The democratic Iraqi government will not last - without of course the support of the American government and its armed forces. The corruption, the inside fighting and the inability to create a cohesive structure of governing will cause the Iraqi government and its parliament to crumble and at some point, Iraq will revert to another authoritarian or dictatorial leadership in order to function as productively and as profitably as it had in the past. CJ;

How about 0/5 stars and two huge thumbs down?

2006-05-21T16:23:00.000-04:00

I know that Chris said that maybe he would do the Da Vinci Code movie review, but I am doing it instead. (Only because well first I feel like it, and second I have a very strong opinion and it needs to be shared) (Sorry Chris)
My mother has banned me from watching the Harry Potter movies for one reason, that being the fact that I can’t watch them without muttering under my breath about all the things that are wrong. Same goes for the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I can’t stand those movies, they were all horrible. I actually seem to be incapable of watching a movie that was made from a book, at least one that I have read. And most books that get turned into movies I have read. I am not sure why I thought The Da Vinci Code would be any different. But I did. And well I was wrong.
The movie was two and a half hours long (I think) and I think I changed my sitting position about every 15 minutes. Restlessness. I figured out why the critics are only giving it 2 stars. I don’t even think it deserves that much. I am not going to go in depth about all the things that are wrong about it. But it starts with the opening scene and doesn’t stop screwing up till the end. I can understand creative liberty you know wanting to make some things your own, but isn’t the point of that to make something better? The only about the movie that stayed true to the book was the fact that it was a grail quest and it had the same character names. Well pretty much at least. It followed I guess the same plot kind of, sort of, in general. But the liberties and changes that the writers made to the story were brutal and stupid and completely unnecessary and just so totally wrong.
But it wasn’t even the fact that as an adaptation of a book it was bad, but as a movie it was incomplete. There were random scenes that didn’t fit in or make sense and were not followed through. While watching it I was trying to stay open minded and not think about the book. But the ending made it impossible for me to do that. When we left the theatre listening to people complain was unbelievable, and the more we ranted about the movie the more we didn’t like it and the more we were disappointed by it.
If you still want to see it, go ahead; make your own judgement about it. But honestly if you loved the book, the movie is garbage; I wouldn’t waste your money.
~Tegan

Strange brew

2006-05-18T05:16:00.000-04:00

At 5:17 in the morning, I can't sleep. I've been trying unsuccessfully to just close my eyes and sleep since about 4. Now, since there's no one online suffering from or sympathetic to insomnia, I'm listening to the same song: David Grey - Babylon, over and over again. I heard it for the first time on Tuesday night at the end of the first hour of the two hour Boston Legal season finale. I haven't decided what the song means yet, I haven't even bothered to listen to the words; what I do know is that I like the sound of the guitar and whatever the secondary stringed instrument is in the background. As I look past my computer monitor over to the window, where the blinds are still closed, I can see that the sun is casting a shadow behind them. As consolation for not being able to sleep, I have just read that Richard Hatch (winner of the first Survivor) is going to serve 51 months in prison for tax evasion. Jeez. Starting Babylon again. CJ;

The fascination with The Grail...

2006-05-17T10:55:00.000-04:00

I am jumping on the Da Vinci Code bandwagon. With this weekend's release of the new movie and all the controversy surrounding it, I feel it is only necessary for me to voice my opinions. I have read the Da Vinci Code (twice), sometime when it first came out and again recently to prepare for the movie. I have been following the development of the movie closely ever since I found out it was going to be made into one. I knew that there would be uproar about it seeing as it deals with religion, and anything concerning religion causes a huge unnecessary scene. For those who have not read the Da Vinci Code, I will not ruin the story for you just know that it concerns the quest for the Holy Grail, which is not as the Church claims a cup that the Gospels drank out of at the Last Supper. It is a mystery thriller that combines fact, speculation, myths and theories, as well as a whole lot of fiction. That is why it is on the best selling fiction list. I have to admit I get undeniably frustrated when people over react. People have been over reacting about The Code for years now. People have been taking this book very seriously, they are looking at the story it tells as a new way to look at the story of Jesus. It is an alternative to the one that has been told for centuries, it seems people want a new story. And I will admit it certainly is an exciting possibility, and I think I would rather the story of Jesus be the one that is in the Code. I think that is mainly because I am already skepticall of the church and the bible and religion, and this just gives me a way to prove my doubt. However it is wrong of me to use the knowledge I gained about the topic from the work of a mystery thriller (as thousands seem to be doing right now). Although Dan Brown researched this topic and has sited the sources that he used to create his novel, I have never read any of them, nor I am sure have most of the people who are so obsessed with the Code. Before people start believing what they read in a fiction novel they should really get some more facts.

This is the least of my problems with the controversy surrounding the upcoming release. The people who are calling this story blasphemous need to relax. There are many groups that are coming forth and trying to discredit the book and movie. Members of the Opus Dei are claiming that they don't like the way they were portrayed in the novel, and that everyone in the world is going to have a distorted view of their society. Ok that is true. But need I stress more that this is fiction. F-I-C-T-I-O-N. Made up, not true, false. My friend Nik was talking to a lady that she works with about the novel, al she asked was if she had read it or not. The lady went off on a tangent about how she would never read it and she couldn't believe how God loving Christians like Tom Hanks and Ron Howard would even consider making a movie out of such a travesty. These are the people who frustrate me, the people who are over reacting, who are placing too much truth into this book. This is why I have a problem with religion, because it creates people like that woman.

I loved the Da Vinci Code. I thought it was very well written it kept you guessing and kept you reading the whole way through. That is an element of a good book, of a good story, of a good author. I am excited for the movie because I think that the book has all the elements for making an exciting movie mystery thriller. Plus Grail movies are usually good. Remember Monty Python and the search for the Holy Grail? That has to be the best Grail movie ever made. Not the point I am trying to make however. Point is, I enjoyed the book, I will probably enjoy the movie, but I am taking it all in with a grain of sand (salt? sand? whatever) and the rest of the world should too.

By the way if you have not read the book you should, it really is quite good!

~Tegan

Just let me at 'em, 12 seasons and I still got it

2006-05-14T23:08:00.000-04:00

Six years ago, an era started in my life. I was a freshmen in high school, just finishing my grade nine year. I was naive, young, starting to form my opinions and notions about life. The friends that I had were still relatively new, I'd only lived in St.Thomas for two years so I was still sort of trying to find my niche ... then Survivor aired for the first time. I was just on my way out the door to pick up my tux for the formal when the now all but familiar "Ayyyeeeoooooohhhh" screeched onto the screen. I hit record on the VCR and as anyone who really knows me is aware, the rest is, as they say "history".

Since then and twelve seasons later, I am still - despite being the laughing stock of my social group - a loyal audience; I have even been known to refuse to leave the house on a Thursday bar night before I see next week's preview. When someone asks, "what's your secret talent?" I answer by telling them that I can list off each Survivor castaway and the order they were voted off in each season. Sad? Yes. But everyone needs a hobby.

It was inevitable that I would eventually write about my less than secret obsession although I have wained in my need to memorize and see every moment of every episode, I've even stopped taping them [mostly because with the price of blank VHS tapes and the rise of DVDs and the fact that most of the seasons will eventually be available in stores anyway, there's no point]. Believe it or not, I've even missed two episodes of this passed season - Exile Island. Shocking, no? I do still bet $20 a week with my mum on who's going to be voted out. Habit.

Why have I become so infatuated with this seemingly idiotic grandfather of the reality TV phenomenon? Two reasons: 1) I think Survivor actually has educational merit and the ability to teach you about how to regard the people are you and 2) I, like millions of other people who watch from the comfort of their couch, think I could actually go on Survivor and do well.

In an article I wrote a couple years ago entitled "I'd walk a mile and eat a bug to get on Survivor' I said, "Anyone who looks at Survivor and sees a television show for entertainment is missing the larger picture. Survivor is about the interactions that we have with people everyday [transported in an intense and competitive environment]. It's about the unspoken alliance we make with a friend [to help us defend ourselves] when we [find ourselves confronted by the boyfriend of some girl you hit on at the bar], it's about the fronts and the faces we put on when we [are confronted] by the annoying acquaintance that we just have to stop and talk to and it's about the never-ending competition we face everyday to get one rung higher on the social ladder." I still believe that.

I'll admit that when I talk to people and I mention that I like to watch Survivor and they roll their eyes and say "is that show still on?" I feel slightly embarassed but I stick and out and say, "I'm loyal." There's that and then there's the fact that at the end of every season, as I watch the finale show, I end up saying, "God I want to do that, just give me the chance, I'll do it!" and I have considered what my plan would be if I ever had the opportunity and was accepted to be a castaway. I've weighed the possibilities about whether I would succumb to the lying and conniving "necessary" to win the million bucks, I've thought about whether I could endure the harsh weather and the tough physical challenges and hell, I'd give it a go. But here's the reality: I have two bum legs, anemia, I love hygiene and have a big mouth. Nevertheless, I've written a poem about my possible Survivor experience ...

For three minutes of film,
I'm put on an island,
For 39 days I'll thrive.

Outwit, Outplay, Outlast,
They said,
And I've promised to do all three.

Eat bugs, build forts,
Compete to stay alive
Cuz fire decides my fate.

Backstab, play dirty,
That's what I would do,
For 15 minutes of fame.

For six long years,
I've watched and I've learned,
Concocting my master plan.

Put me on Survivor,
I'll show you the best,
And probably get voted out the first day.

CJ;

Updates

2006-05-11T00:55:00.000-04:00

Our avid readers will notice a sudden change to the layout, design and some of the content at TMJ [Tailor Made Journalist]. First, of course, the layout and design itself has changed. Hopefully so long as I don't have another bit of obsessive compulsion, it will stay this way for awhile.

Second, we've added a content bar at the top of the page under the title to provide you with information about TMJ, us the writers, a link to the 'Things I've Learned' lists and a link to the blog which features updates about our new magazine, 180 Proof. Also there is a page with information about how to apply to become a TMJ writer, we're pursuing fresh blood!

Third, we've added a word of the day which today seems to be ungulate, as well as a new and improved polling station just below the polaroids. New things are still being posted every day! As always, your comments and opinions are always welcome. Thanks very much for your support, keep reading!

Tegan & CJ

Review: "Fatal Contact: Bird Flu in America" aka "Kill All The Friggin' Geese Before They Can Kill Us"

2006-05-10T00:27:00.000-04:00

Weeks ago, a promo aired about a made for TV movie that was going to tackle the "what if" speculation about the events that would transpire if the Avian Flu ever found its way across the ocean and into the North American - primarily American - borders. Intrigued, I mentioned to Jon and my neighbour Ted that I planned on watching the movie, to which Jon replied "Don't bother...it's a waste of time."

So there I am tonight, watching the movie which of course starts off with the facts about the Bird Flu and the disclaimer - "this film is a fictional examination of the what if?" Yeah, I mentioned that already. The whole thing was foreboding, as I would imagine the Bird Flu to be. We all remember what happend with Sars a couple years back. Of course, there is the unfortunate American businessman walking through a raided Chinese marketplace as chicken stands are being relieved of their stock. Chinese officials in environmental protective suits are gathering up the birds and are carting them off. Guys in white suits = bad.

By the time the American makes it onto his return flight back to America, he has become the unknowing carrier for the Bird Flu and in a million person split screen, the number of people he has spread the virus to has become just that - millions. Man, imagine being the guy who coughed the wrong way and suddenly started a chain of events that would kill millions of people. Put that on a resume.

The entire film quickly becomes based on single handshakes, kisses and coughs that - like the common flu and cold - are the primary passers for the human-to-human affects of the virus (pale skin, massive and aggitated migraines, severe bloody nose and whatever was going on side). The symptoms are played up, making them seem outrageously painful [which I'm sure they would be ... or not sure] and by the end of the first act, the initial carrier - our American businessman - has collapsed in a hardware store looking like a Borg drone from Star Trek. In case you are unfamiliar with what a Borg looks like, I have graciously included a picture [focus more on the colour of the skin than the robotic features]. Sufficed to say, the businessdude dies.

Inevitably but expectedly, the film turns to New York City and the first place we see is a crowded train station with the millions of innocent and unware New Yorkers going about their daily hussle and bussle; following that, a overworked and understaffed emergency room filled with hypochondriacs. Quite seriously, this place has become Howie Mandel's nightmare (1). Once again, in case you don't know who Howie Mandel is ... I have graciously included a picture and you need to become more aware of the world around you and sit your ass down on the couch for 15 mins! Heaven help you if you have to ask which is the Borg and which is Howie Mandel, I realize they bare a striking resemblence but use common sense.

The film portrays humanity's fear and irrationality to a tie; the sort of irrationality (medical masks, gathering and stocking up of food and water and the quarantines) that the world expected with the coming of the new millenium. $17.00 for a package of Folger's coffee. Irrationality spreads like wild fire to the point where a father of a young baby kills his wife whom he suspects of having the Bird Flu and then kills himself, leaving his child. What the hell was ABC trying to accomplish by producing this film? As I was watching the scene of the New York hospital, I started to cough and looking at the TV scene, there were literally thousands of people hacking and coughing along with me. It was then that I imagined the number of wheezing and coughing real life hypochondriacs that will be paying visits to their doctor's offices and hospitals over the couple of days convinced that they have the first human-to-human case of the Avian Flu just because they saw this movie.

By the end of the first hour [yes, there was more than hour to this], over 35,000 people had died - within about a one week timeframe. I guess when it comes to these things, you need to make things look bleak in order to make them "entertaining."

As far as the acting goes, there isn't much to be said. The dad from that show Titus and the deaf and dumb chick from the Tom Hanks/Geena Davis women's baseball movie A League of Their Own are the only noteables that appear and even their performances are less brilliant than the actors who play the people who are DYING.

Eventually, entire triage units complete with armed guards, accomodating literally millions of people are erected across America and presumably, the world. And to think I was missing House for this. In an attempt to be funny, the director has radio dedications played while one character is on her way to the grocery store ... "This one goes out to Dave, now that the quarantines have been lifted, Sarah says she can't wait to spend the rest of her life with you!" To add to the drama, we find out that France has developed a vaccine but won't give it to the U.S. [probably because of Iraq] and that the UN and the rest of the international community have imposed economic sanctions on the French unless they give up the vaccine. Zoot alors!

Aside from making me terrified of the possibility of a human Bird Flu contraction, the movie about the possibilities sucked. What did I expect? It was a made for TV movie! Nonetheless, I'm going to wash my hands seven times a day for the rest of my life.

Of course, toward the end of the film, news headlines read "American fights back". That's right, aside from waging war on terrorism, nuclear weapons that don't exist and declaring war on Mother Nature for what she did in New Orleans, Fatal Contact: Bird Flu in America suggests that America can wage war on a deadly, wide spread killing machine of a disease that was capable of killing hundreds of millions of people in what my world was two wasted hours based on their patriotic perseverance.

I know it's not something to joke about, someday the Avian Flu might be a real threat to humanity. Maybe Alfred Hitchcock had it right ... eventually we will have a reason to be afraid of the Birds.

For more information on the Bird Flu, go to: www.pandemicflu.gov

(1) Howie Mandel, host of NBC's Deal or No Deal has mysophobia ... fear of germs to the point where he refuses to shake hands with people. He'd hate the Bird Flu.

I heart Produce

2006-05-08T18:08:00.000-04:00

I am a chicken shit. I have realized this. In the grocery store today as I scanned through the Romaine lettuce looking for a bundle without flies, a brunette about 5'7 and attractive pushed a cart by me and of course, I noticed. As I mentioned, shoulder length brown hair, a petite frame wearing a green shirt [love green] and beige pants. Killer combinations. She was "my type" as Jon said [I don't have a type].

Anyway, I'm working through the fruit isles ... grabbing some bananas, checking out the prices of oranges and apples and I noticed her glance at me. Not just a look, see someone and move on but an actual glance. Course, when I told Jon he didn't believe me, "You're full of shit," he said. But I think this chick actually checked me out. By now Jon had moved on and I went to grab some bread and she was following behind me. I know you "Chris is egotistical" hippies out there would argue, "well, Chris you know people generally do move through the grocery store" and my rebuttal is, they don't go through the grocery store checking someone out ... unless they're me.

Now, I've always known and said I was hot shit. I say it so often that despite my seriousness, it has become a point of humour for some people. Right now, the 'Coalition Against Chris' Ego' is saying ... "We wonder why it's become a point of humor, it's hilarious..." Nonetheless, I am aware of my cute baby face and realitively attractive physique and there is a good chance that if I had gone over to this brown haired vixen that I could have struck up a genuine conversation about the size of my banana ... s. Instead, I continued on my merry way, having totally surpassed the "3 second rule". "3 second rule" being the timeframe a guy should give himself to approach a woman.

By the time I'd finished picking up the items on my list, having paid for them and was finally back out the car, I was regretting not having gone to talk to her. Cursing myself, Jon laughed, "Maybe you should pay the $3,000 and go to one of those pick-up artist classes and learn how to properly pick-up chicks..." I would argue that it's not entirely necessary, I'm not a complete invalid when it comes to the opposite sex, I just have shy moments. I've read that no matter how many times someone practices or actually approaches the opposite sex, they will always have that sinking feeling in their stomach when they consider something as simple as "hello."

"One day when you're bored," Jon said, "just go downtown and practice picking up chicks." I laughed but then, as I thought about it, that's not such a bad idea. CJ;

movin' home

2006-05-03T22:57:00.000-04:00

No one ever said moving away from home was going to be easy. But it was. No one ever told me it would be the moving home part that was hardest. I moved away at 17 to go to University. I am the youngest in the family and I was the youngest to leave home. My sister went to school when she was 20 and my brother was 23. So leaving home was a big shock for my parents. I was surprised at how easy it was for me.
I have moved home again, for the second summer after being out on my own. Last year I hated being home, I hated leaving residence and all of my friends. I hated leaving the freedom of being on my own and then having to come back and conform to my parents rules again. It seemed so stupid after making my own choices for a full year to all of a sudden being told what you can and cannot do. It drove me insane last summer, and I feel like it is going to happen all over again.
I seriously contemplated not moving home this summer and staying up in my rented house and finding a job there. But most of my friends would be back home and my roommates wouldn’t be there and I know that I would have gotten lonely. And on the plus side my parents pay for my groceries when I am at home. So there is an expense I don’t have to worry about. I think it is kind of sad that really the main reason I am home is so I don’t have to pay groceries.
I love my parents, and I know that they have taught me so much and continue to do so, and I respect them. But do they ever drive me nuts. I think it may come with the age thing. Being 20 years old, and after living on your own to have conform back to the way it used to be when you were in high school. I wish that my parents would understand and accept that I am not a child anymore, and yes I will always be their child, but they need to learn to give a little when it comes to growing up. I would think that they would know this after having to older children but apparently not.
This is my first week home, and who knows maybe it is going to be the hardest week because I have to get back into the mould of living here and hopefully things will get better. The truth is my relationship with my parents got stronger when I went away because it actually gave me space and time to know them. When I come home it seems to fall apart again. It is frustrating and upsetting and annoying, but what can I do? Nothing but sit here and rant about it all because it is cathartic.

This is my first post since I have been home, I must warn you that this may become an outlet for evasion of privacy moments. Oh and I am sure that there will be lots of awesome angry customer stories seeing as I am back at good ol’ Timmie Hoes!
Hello Summer!!

~Tegan

Get with it you pervs

2006-05-02T15:02:00.000-04:00

During my downtime between school and going to work, I've had lots of time to think. I think about how I want to re-decorate my apartment, paint over the crapping holes in the walls left by former nails and pins; about what courses I want to take next year already; how I'll budget my money this summer; what trips I want to take, places I want to visit, whether or not I have enough time to do all of the things I want to do. Most of the time I do a lot of my thinking before I go to bed and sometimes I get so deep into thought that going to bed and sleeping at 12:30 turns into going to bed at 12:30 and sleeping at 3.

I like to blame a lot of things on being a writer and this is one of them. I'm an insomniac because I'm a writer. But it's not really true: the truth is that I'm an insomiac because I spend time thinking about two things - sex and death.

We've all heard the urban legend that men think about sex every seven to eight seconds; conversely, men will think about death [even consciously or subsconsciously] every ten to eleven seconds. Neither of these are actually true. In fact, a man will think about sex and death only twice a day: in the morning when they wake up and at night before they go to bed. The times in between when a man does think about sex is oftentimes due to a woman's arousal, a comment made by a friend or someone in casual conversation such as "Look at that one, she's hot ... I'd do her" and of course, if they actually have sex during the day.

Think about this: which do you think about more ... sex or death?

Now, which fascinates you more? Sex or death?

The fact of the matter is, for me anyway, sex is so easy. I can comprehend sex and I know what it is, how it's done and even if I didn't know the feeling, I could grasp a basic understanding of the sensation from watching aptly available porn on the Internet. Having sex is so pedestrian, people do it all the time. Death on the other hand is something completely new and something that can only be experienced once in a lifetime [depending on what you believe]. No one can tell or show me how death feels, if it even has a feeling. If you were to listen to people who say that they had been dead for a few minutes after suffering a heart attack or something else life threatening but were then revived, they'd tell you that the feeling was warm and calming and comforting and that death is a joyous thing. How the hell do I know that?

On the other hand ... well, someone's description of sex is either believable or it isn't.

People say all the time, "why think about death, you have a life to live and how are you going to live it if you're always thinking about death?" My answer to that question is peacefully. Everyone knows that death is coming and it's the people who don't consider it that don't live their life to the fullest and appreciate things for what they are. "You have a life to live and how are you going to live it if you're always thinking about death?" Bullsheet. Death is part of life, just like birth. Come in to the world pooping, go out of the world pooping. In my opinion, how and when I'm going to kick the bucket deserves more warranted consideration than how and when I can expect the next orgasm. CJ;

I'll always be just a good ol' boy

2006-04-30T22:51:00.000-04:00

The first country song I remember hearing was "One Boy, One Girl" by Colin Raye. My dad sat me down one night in our den back when we lived in Hanover, I don't remember how old I was [I couldn't have been more than 12] but I remember that it was dark [my dad loves sitting in the dark listening to music] and that I was sitting in a dark green chaise lawn chair listening to this song. I remember listening to it once and then a second time after and I remember picturing the things that Raye sung about ... this guy sitting anxiously in a restaurant and seeing this beautiful girl walk through the doors and then as he sings, "everyone else disappeared." The song goes onto the tell the story of how these two people - one boy, one girl - fell in love, how their "hearts beat wildly", how for a moment the whole world revolved around them and time stood still. Of course, the couple get married and have children, twins actually: one boy, one girl. Naturally, I didn't get it until years later when I heard the song on the radio. If you haven't already deciphered it, the one boy and one girl are references to the twins that the couple eventually have. Really, it's the quinessential love story: there's no mention of fighting between the couple or infedelity or even second thoughts; it's just simple, fall in love and know that the other person is the one for you and that the day you meet them is "the day they've been waiting for all their lives."

I get razzed all the time for liking country music. Nikki does her "wah, wah" meaning that she thinks it's all sappy "bullsheet" and Tegan will usually get up to change the song at the first sign of a fiddle. But what my two incredibly intelligent female companions don't realize is that they're missing out on some of the best musical talent that the industry has to offer. Unlike most musicians/singers/bands like, say ... Val Halen [extreme example but an example nevertheless] don't have the same kind of ability to express an understanding of the human condition in comparison to someone like Garth Brooks, Reba McIntrye, Trisha Yearwood or even Toby Keith. The reason that Garth Brooks and Shania Twain sell more records on average isn't because they're more talented than Val Halen or Bob Dylan, it's because they understand people better.

It's granted that 9 out of 10 country songs will have to do with love and that the remaining 10th song will be about either death, drinking, aging or shooting men in Reno just to watch them die. But that's the human condition. The human condition is a story and it's a story that can be heard clearly, that one doesn't need to strain to understand. A country song can be associated with any time in any person's life and can define a single moment; country music is universal. Take for example the song "Then They Do" by Trace Adkins about a father's annoyance with his children's quirks: his daughter making sure she looks good before school, fighting in the backseat, one of them needing to use the washroom and the entire family being late and he ends the first stanza saying "I can't wish til they grow up." It's a song written entirely for parents who witness their children grow up and leave home in a blink of an eye: that, is universal and it's something that every parent will experience at one point or another, with or without difficulty.

I touched on this a bit earlier but there is another reason why there is a large portion of the population that appreciates country music and it's a simple reason: you can understand it. Not just intellectually but literally. Country music isn't about the actual sound, it's about the ability of the audience to quickly understand and contextualize the words and the story of the song - even when someone hears the song only one time. If you download a song like "One Boy, One Girl", you'll understand the story and if you have a brain between your ears, you'd hopefully make the connection between the "one boy, one girl" and the fact that the couple has twins. It seems like a fairly idiot proof argument but it's those sort of arguments that people generally overlook or deny.

In the passed while, I've been introduced to musicians like Billy Joel and Jack Johnson [both of whom I think are awesome] but when I turn on my radio, I want to hear country music. I can blame it on my roots, I can blame it on the fact that I like a song with a story - no matter how "wah, wah" it is - or I rather than place blame, I can admit the fact that I am in love with the sound of the fiddle, the twang in the voice of the singers and sound of an acoustic guitar with faint drums in the background. CJ;

2006-04-29T12:38:00.000-04:00

I couldn't resist not posting this. Click on the image to enlarge it. CJ;

Angry messages, budding business and a slacker writer, Tom Cruise is gay & "I'd rather eat a dead moose's butt"

2006-04-29T11:51:00.000-04:00

It seems that whenever I start to slack on my duties as a tailor made journalist, there is always someone who gives me a swift kick in the head and reminds me that I have a blog to write.

You're a slacker, this person said, you can't just start something and not bother with it for a whole week ... what the hell? I mean ... what the hell?

Sort of a boost to my creative ego. People can't go without my writing. I've become an iconic fixture in people's days [and by people, I mean one person]. It's not that I'm without ideas. It's not that I don't have some things to write about ... take for instance ... oh I don't know ... Tom Cruise's new baby. Surie. I feel horrible for making fun of a newborn child that really didn't have a choice about its name but really ... not only does Cruise steal my woman [Katie Holmes] who I've had dibs on since her days as Joey Potter on Dawson's Creek and not only does he impregnate her in a sick attempt to prove that he isn't gay but then he names the kid Surie. Oh Katie, I'm so sorry baby. Please come home, Hollywood rumor has it he's gay anyways [why else would he have ditched Nicole Kidman?] Because of my caring for Katie, I have taken the liberty to compose a list of alternative names, all of which are still uniqur in their own way, and can quickly be instituted to save Surie from a life of scrutiny and emotional self-abuse:

1. Christiana: Can be shortented to either Chris, Christi or Anna.
2. Christianni: Sort of the same as Christiana but sounding much more creative.
3. Christev: Has a Russian feel to it, and the sound makes up for Cruise's own lack of masculinity.
4. Christa: More traditional but I like it.
5. Chrash: and burn is exactly what will happen to this poor child if Katie doesn't listen to me!

Part of the mass of ingredients that have been distracting me from my tailor made work is a budding business that Tegan and I have begun serious work on: a publishing company and magazine, 180 Proof. Coming September-October 2006, 180 Proof is a lifestyle and culture magazine aimed at a readership audience of 17-28 years old. That's right, we're expanding and moving into the real world. We're also going to be putting together a website soon with more information about the magazine, about us and about the projects that we're working on. We're really excited and looking forward to getting these new projects off the ground. If you know anyone with a business who might be interested in advertising or if you're a venture capitalist with some extra cash you'd like to donate ... give us a ring!

Now, about kissing a dead moose's butt. Try to imagine the most disgusting thing that no one could ever pay you enough money to do. For me, it's kissing a dead moose's butt. I first came across this concept while watching Grumpier Old Men, the sequel to the Walter Matheau and Jack Lemmon movie Grumpy Old Men. In the movie, Sophia Lauren says about dating or kissing [can't remember which] Walter Matheau's character that she'd "rather kiss a dead moose's butt." Now that's either the biggest insult or the most disgusting idea I've ever heard in my entire life. It's a toss up between the two. You'd think that the most disgusting thing someone could think of would involve blood and guts or something but for me, it's picturing the big furry carcus of a moose and being told to kiss its ass. Good luck with that mental image. CJ;

Sigh...

2006-04-27T21:05:00.000-04:00

Do you remember when you were younger and a school year seemed to take forever? And do you remember when suddenly it didn’t? I’m sitting here after finishing my last exam of second year and I am having a hard time comprehending how fast time goes. I know that people hear this all the time, enjoy school it flies by, they aren’t joking. This year has been absolutely fantastic. I’ve made new friends and reached important new milestones, and really just enjoyed myself. Thinking about it all I know that I am glad that the year is over, because I don’t know how much more school I could take. But at the same time, wow am I sad that the year is over. It means that I have to go home and get a job and work for the summer. And it means that I wont see most of my friends again until September. But as much as I am sad about this year being over, I am filled with this overwhelming sense of contentment. I know next year will be just as great, and the year after that, and whatever comes along. I am trying not to be sentimental but really who am I kidding. I cried last year leaving, mainly because I was the first of my friends to go home, but now I am one of the last so everyone has said their goodbyes ( which is really see you later, goodbye is much to final) and what I really want to say right now is Fuck Yah. I’m done!! (grins*)

~T

The new Harper tactic for mending damaged U.S.-Canada relations ...

2006-04-26T22:55:00.000-04:00

Not really much else to say.
Except ... is that a tongue I see?
Dubya! You old dog!
CJ;

Tegan's Link Now Works

2006-04-24T12:15:00.000-04:00

Thanks for the feedback thus far about the 'Things We've Learned" ... Tegan's link now works. Check back for more updates and future "What I've Learned..." posts. Now back to your regularly scheduled blogging ... CJ;

more 'Things I have Learned' coming soon...

2006-04-23T13:34:00.000-04:00

Yesterday Chris posted something written by my roommate Nikki, 20 Things I have Learned in 20 years. She wrote this because she got inspired by my writing of The Things I have learned in 20 Years, and I got inspired to write by Chris who started it all. And Chris please don’t gloat and think wow look at me I inspire people, we don’t need your non ego to get bigger! This being said you should expect our Things We Have Learned to be up soon. There will be a link to them under our pictures where our profiles are! It will be a snazzy new page with pictures and everything. Quite excited really. Hope you are too!!
~Tegan

20 Things I've Learned in 20 Years

2006-04-22T17:54:00.000-04:00

My family is the closest I will ever come to knowing God.
Nothing is impossible.
Swimming in a lake is the definition of freedom.
So is riding your bike with your eyes closed.
Naked is always better.
It is important to appreciate your friends -- and let them know you do.
Being smart is attractive.
Having a dog is necessary to discovering the joy of real companionship.
Reading inspires dreams.
Writing allows for the realization of the dream (even if it doesn't happen in "real life").
Nothing learned is ever wasted.
Parents teach you more about life than you can ever imagine -- even if you think they're stupid.
And even if what you learn from them is what you don't want to be.
Smiles are contagious.
So is laughter.
Perseverance always pays off.
You can't blame anyone for trying.
Love is ...
Racism and hatred are not innate -- change your mind.
Every action is a decision.
I am still learning.

The world stood still ... 5 times

2006-04-21T09:57:00.000-04:00

I'm filling out a questionnaire on Esquire.com to find out about my body quotient. And even though up until then I had no idea what body quotient meant, I like doing questionnaires.

How many push-ups can you do without resting? (Reduce numbers below by five for each decade starting at 41. So if you're 41 to 50, reduce by five; 51 to 60, reduce by ten, et cetera.)

Ha, yeah right. But it's as I'm chuckling at this question and about to click submit when my Internet connection dies. The fifth time in three weeks; and not only that, when the net dies -- the cable dies too. I peer around the side of my harddrive to where my precariously placed cable modem sits, idle: half on the desk and half leaning against the wall, a single light flashing. Suddenly, the entire world has stopped.

Where's the phone? Is my first reaction: to call the people who can tell me why the Earth has stopped spinning. This is the same phone call I've made each of the last five times, the Cogeco Customer Service line. I stare at the modem as I listen to the the automated message telling me that I can now solve my questions about technical difficulties with my television cable and cable modem online and I would ... if it wasn't the modem I was having issues with. I remember the sequence of numbers ... 4 to speak with a customer service rep, 2 for problems with the Internet ... I could care less about the TV just give me back my damn Internet connection.

"This transaction may be recorded for quality control purposes," says my automated female friend, I've named her Shiela: the same voice that has told me the same things five times before. Five times.
A voice comes on following Shiela; a real voice to tell me that my region is not experiencing any technical difficulties at this time. I press 2 because I still want to speak to an attendant.
"Good morning, thank you for calling Cogeco, this is Ryan speaking ... how may I help you?"
"Good morning Ryan, this is Chris ... I'm experiencing problems with both my cable Internet and my television cable for the fifth time in the passed three weeks, what's the deal?"
"Well sir, I'm sorry about your problems with the service ... can I have your name and address please?"

I hate that. I hate when I want to be mad but they act nice and professional. How can I be mad? It's not this guy's fault that the service sucks, but I press on giving him my name and address and new friend Ryan disappears.

Seconds later he comes back, "I'm sorry sir but there is a power supply being replaced in your area. It's a routine procedure and it needed to be done."
"Is there an ETA on that Ryan?" I ask this all the time. I want to know. I need to know.
"About 4:00 this afternoon," Ryan says with sympathy: it's 9:30 a.m. now.
"You're kidding me."
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience sir."
"Thanks Ryan." His apology sounds like condolenses.

I hang up the phone, set it slowly down on the kitchen counter. I've been pacing this entire time so that I don't lose it on this guy and tell him how much the company he works for blows. The apartment is quiet. If the computer were animate, I would imagine that at this moment [and the passed FIVE] it would have the same pitiful look that a dog does after it has been neutered -- the most significant part of it is missing. And it's in that moment that I reflect on a conversation from Easter weekend about how the Internet has become the new way of communication; some people can't function without it: and I am one of them, my day is going no where without the Internet, without MSN. Not only do I need it to communicate, but to work too!

Supposed to go out with Tegan today ... I think to myself ... but when? Oh God, I don't know. I'll call her. Yeah. No. I don't have her phone number! How do we ever get together? MSN! Damnit! Panic. I don't use the telephone, I use MSN to make plans and to communicate with the outside world. I could walk over to her house but when if I walk all the way there and she's not there or she's not ready? Too many variables! Everything has come to a screeching halt; I frantically try to figure out how to get a message to Tegan without MSN ... or with it ... I'll need to put a message in my MSN name telling her to call my cell phone -- I'll have to walk up the hill to the college and change my name there ...

And so I do. Tegan, call my cell phone ... Cogeco's dead again.

This is the length I've gone to so far to make sure my day continues despite technical difficulties: I've called Cogeco, sat back at the computer and tried to connect to MSN [hoping that it would magically connect without the Internet] three times, turned the TV on and off six times, and I've gone to the college [not a far walk, but still...] just to change my MSN name. I've decided that my dependence on technology is a bit excessive and I remind myself: years ago, there was no Internet, there was no TV, there was no telephone and people lived on farms with miles between them hardly ever communicating.

When I came back from the college, my imediate thought was to check the modem ...

Connection established. 10:04 a.m. CJ;

The Changing of the Guards

2006-04-20T11:29:00.000-04:00

I had to post this picture, quite simply because I think it's hilarious. Who knew that when being a writer fails, Tegan intends to become one of the guards in Her Majesty's highest order?

Fuzzy. CJ;

The Blue Sky is Here to Stay

2006-04-20T11:13:00.000-04:00

Spring. It is here in full force. The trees are covered in buds and flowers are starting to bloom everywhere. People are outside walking around and everyone is happy. The sun doesn’t set until after 8 now! Spring really did arrive quite a while ago but the weather was so up and down for a bit, nice, really nice, oh let me snow for you one more time. You know that kind of thing. But now, you know for the next four and a half months it is going to be beautiful.
And Hot. Which for some is perfect because they love the super hot weather. I on the other hand don’t like when it gets above say 28 -30. Mainly because the sun and I do not get along. I am allergic. I get a lovely itchy heat rash when I am out in the sun to long. Only thing is it is unpredictable, because sometimes I get it and other times I do not, and there is no knowing when it will appear. And sun screen does nothing to prevent it either. So for the most part my summers are spent in the shade.
Yesterday however I decided that I would sit outside in the sun, I started doing that last year and only got the rash twice, so maybe this allergy is slowly going away. Well I didn’t get it yesterday, but I got burnt for maybe the second time in my life. Needless to say I was actually excited about it because the burn will turn to tan and then I will actually have some colour to me in the summer. Which is neat, because I am paper white all the time.
It really wasn’t smart to sit outside all day without sun screen though, so I wont be doing that again. And this is just a little reminder before we all go off for summer. If you are outside for long periods of time in the sun, hydrate lots and where sun screen. I am sure we are all old enough to know that, but sometimes we forget.

And there you go Chris, did Nik not say you would here more about my Rash issue? :)

~Tegan

My sex partner has a Trojan ... horse

2006-04-17T19:55:00.000-04:00

As a child, I saw the Disney movie Fantasia. I hated it: the fact that it was a cartoon completely done to music didn't interest me at all [and I don't particularly care for Mickey Mouse, I think he's lame]. Then I heard about Fantasia Parties. Intially, naively, I associated Fantasia Parties with the Disney movies where brooms and chairs dance amongst splashes of random colours. Yes, I definitely did. Go ahead and laugh.

I had never heard of Fantasia Parties until I had it explained to me sometime last year [or maybe it was this year] ...

"A fantasia party is where a group of girls get together and play with sex toys," my friend said matter-a-factly.
I paused and pondered this for a second and then, touching my index finger to my chin and pausing again, I finally said, "Come again?"
"Only if the toys are really good," she answered.
I sought further explanation.
"A fantasia party is where a group of girls have a party, they invite somebody who sells sex toys to come and demonstrate how they work and whatnot and then the girls have a chance to buy anything they like."
"That's it?"
"Oh, and we drink. The drinking is key because then we spend more money."
"Can I host a fantasia party?" I asked, eagerly.
"No," my friend answered firmly, "You can't. You're a guy."

Needless to say, I was intrigued. The fact that I couldn't throw my own fantasia party didn't bother me. Locked in my mind was the image of a group of women, drinking and carrying on with dildos and vibrators, estrogen flying through the air like drops of water. Since I first heard of fantasia parties, several of my other girl friends have told me they were going to be attending one party or another.

So why can't guys throw these parties? Well, I suppose the answer to that is bachelor parties but putting that aside, it's no wonder women think men are so sexually simple. We can't begin to compare ourselves to the complexity that is the female sex drive. Guys don't have toys like women do ... things that vibrate and need batteries. The closest thing guys have to something like a vibrator is a computer with an Internet connection.

But, as with everything, time's-are-a-changin' ... in an article published this passed Monday [April 17] by Reuters, top sex experts in the U.S. expect artificial sex partners to be a reality by 2016 with the ability to "cater to every fantasy." And there we have it, a man's ultimate sex toy.

"There is a possibility of developing erotic materials for yourself that would allow you to create a partner of certain dimensions and qualities, the partner saying certain things in that interaction, certain things happening in that interaction," says Julia Heiman, director of the Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex, Gender and Reproduction.

I'd say that's gotta be the male equivalent of a fantasia party: the ability to virtually create a sex partner to exact perameters? Wow. Imagine all the guys having sex with Angelina then. Sometimes I wonder if guys might be underestimated in their ability to perform without the slighest bit of "typical male sex drive." How would I even describe that? The stereotypical male sex-stuffs? Wait, what do I care? CJ;

A Variable Cornicopia of Inspiration

2006-04-15T21:41:00.000-04:00

For some reason now that I've basically got third year in the bag, I feel more compelled to sit down and write blogs more often. It's like a release for me, it's a way of sorting out the thoughts in my mind and at the same time, I'm able to do something that I enjoy [there's those things and then there's the fact that when I don't make a post, I get emails from my mother: There was no post today. Where's today's post? My mother should be a magazine editor, she has a great handle on deadlines].

I will admit though that today was a particularly material ridden day and this is perhaps why I find myself at the keyboard for the second time in eight hours.

Like many folks this weekend, I had Easter dinner with my family held at my parent's place in St.Thomas. I'd have to honestly say that I've always been hesitant to write about my family; that unlike most writers, using my family [particularly my mom's side] as writer fodder has never been anything that I've considered. But, as of today, I can't resist any longer ...

My family is relatively small compared to most. Usually when I talk to people about their family they say that they have 20 cousins [whereas I have 3], six or seven couples of aunts and uncles [whereas I have 2] and their grandparents are usually in their late seventies or eighties, whereas mine have just barely qualified for Canada pension at age 65. So, as I said, we're a small group -- everyone can fit into a single framed family picture with ease: just like we did today. The kicker about my family though is that we're not just a-typical in our structure but in the way we act with one another. Every time I've brought a girl home to meet the family, there are disclaimers:

1) They will talk about sex at the dinner table.
2) Someone, at some point, will start a fight with someone else ... on purpose.
3) They're all nuts.

Over the years, I've slowly graduated to the adult table where the conversation circles around politics, sports, correctional services and like I said, sex. My dad and my mom's brother both work in the Ministry of Correctional Services and my grandfather retired from the ministry a couple years back so any sort of happenings are generally marked as a-list conversation. The politics portion is simple: Liberals are good, Conversatives are bad. Likewise, half say the Boston Bruins are demi-gods, the other half worship the Maple Leafs. And sex, well, nevermind. But prior to my knowing these things, this adult table was a mystery where all of the grown-ups seemed to laugh and speak louder than they did at any other point during the day. I remember that fascination I had as a child wanting to be let in on the joke, little did I know the joke was about who was getting it and when. To most people, this sort of thing sounds taboo - "You discuss that sort of thing with your family?" Well, yeah, if you can't gloat to your family, who can you gloat to? Get over it.

One observation I've made about family is that things never change. In idle conversation [when we're not talking about politics, sports, corrections or sex], the topics still stay the same: this uncle looks tired, he must be staying up late and working too hard; we're going here and there to watch this kid play hockey; what's her real hair color; we're going on this vacation and that; my house is shit because...; money, money, money, money; let's go hide out in the other room and hope that nobody calls us out until dinner. And likewise, the way we function as a family unit doesn't change either: the women make the meal, the guys sit and shoot the shit. I'm sure that other families have similiar quirks. I don't dislike or find frustration with my family ... it just wasn't until today that I realized how predictable we are and how much being predictable works for us. On the other hand, maybe it's scarey that I can wrap my entire family up so neatly in this little nut shell. CJ;

And then there were two ...

2006-04-15T10:16:00.000-04:00

I'd like to take a moment to recognize and thank Jen and Laurel for their contributions over the passed couple months. When I decided to undertake this little project, Jen and Laurel were both obvious choices for initial contributors and I didn't think twice about bringing them into the fold. Their departure from The Tailor Made Journalist is saddening but I hope they both remain avid readers and that they'll throw in a comment or two every now and then. Thanks for your work ladies!

So, what does the future hold? Well, Tegan and I will endeavor to remain true to our blogging commitment and hopefully we'll whip together some inspiring and thought provoking material.

I'd also like to announce on behalf of both Tegan and I the launch of our new lifestyle and culture magazine: 180 Proof. The magazine will be available in September 2006 [if all bodes well] and we encourage everyone who has had an interest in The Journalist to grab a copy when they become available!

In the meantime, if you or someone you know have an interest in writing or journalism or both ... feel free to get in touch with us!

CJ;

Duck & cover ... it's the apocalypse

2006-04-13T21:05:00.000-04:00

I had to make that my title. Why? Well ... the longer I put this off, the more it will hurt: I will, for the first time [other than when she said all those fabulous things about me] publicly agree with Tegan. I know, I know ... the avid CJ blog readers just shuddered and thousands are screaming "No, no! Don't go over to the darkside, what are you doing?" The fact of the matter is, Tegan was right in her last post. University exams are a biased form of evaluation that cater to students whose major focus is the analytical and contextual aspects of a discipline.

I've never been one for exams. In high school I rarely studied for them and that habit carried over into my first year of university where I realized that perhaps I hadn't made the best use of my free time during the exam period. I don't fault myself for not studying. I don't fault myself for not having interest in exams. I don't feel guilty for not locking myself away with my notes and textbooks because I'm well aware that my strength is else where. It was also during first year that I developed the following theory as a way of justifying my lack of studying ... to myself:

People who study, study hard. They focus on the content of a course: their notes and selected readings. The fact of the matter is, if you have the notes that means that you went to the lectures and paid relatively close attention to what was being said [I say relatively close attention again] and you have at least a minimalistic understanding of the course lecture material. In addition, if you have the textbook and have been keeping up with the course readings, you also have a basic grasp on that material as well. Therefore, in my experience, the people who study hard are the ones that are usually stressed out the most ... they expect themselves to absorb all of the information that they are supposed to study to the point where they drive themselves insane with stress. Then, when it comes time to write the exam, they worry whether or not they will remember all of the material they've studied and they convince themselves that they've forgotten everything and usually panic, causing themselves to actually forget and draw a blank when it's time to write the test. In contrast, someone who has worked hard all year, understands the course materials and readings doesn't need to study. Not studying is the key. I say it again, not studying is the key. If you don't stress yourself out with studying, you feel more relaxed and are better able to focus on the material you know and understand ... so at the least, you're able to go into the exam and ace the sections that you know and are confident in.

Conversely, after the exam ... instead of hating yourself for not knowing the answers that you know you studied and instead of running to your notes to find out what the answer was and freaking out in the "I knew that" fit ... if you know that you did the best you could and answered the parts you know you knew well, you can relax and be confident in the fact that you at least did the best you could.

On Wednesday, I wrote my first exam. Canadian Literature. As with any English course, the exam is a gulp and vomit. Sit in the lecture with your mouth wide open as the instructor fills your gullet with material and information that you can later vomit back onto the exam. I call it the "Mother Bird Affect". When the mother bird feeds her young, she eats the food first herself and then regurgitates it for her babies. Exams [at least in English if not in every discipline] are the same sort of deal. With regard to this Canadian Literature exam [answering three short answer questions about passages from various books we had studied and an essay question ... I wrote some dribble about personal identity and how three characters from three different books were shaped by their community and their parents], it was easily a case of writing what the professor wanted to see.

How does that test anything? So, I was able to memorize what the professor's opinion was on Alice Munro's The Lives of Girls and Women and that was able to re-write it, word for word on the exam. I'll pass with that but how does it show that I've learned anything except to remember what he said about losing virginity.

Here's how I'd conduct an exam: first of all, it would be oral [no dirty jokes please]. Second, I'd ask some completely obligatory question about something random like ... "If Alice Munro and Thomas King were in a thumb wrestle, who would win based on their ability to write?" The answer would be Alice Munro. Third, I'd ask about the course, whether or not I was a good teacher and if they answered honestly, they'd pass. Simple and straightforward.

Would I be making a mockery of exams? Yes, I would be. Would my exams be relevant to anything I was teaching? Yes, they would because I'd be teaching creativity and self-expression through critical analysis. Simple, straightforward, easy. CJ;

Please Shoot Me

2006-04-12T09:23:00.000-04:00

It’s that time of year again, no not Easter, but exam crunch time and end of the year panic. Mainly because of any work that you still have kicking around that you have to do and on top of it all studying for exams. And this year Trent had the brilliant idea of putting exams over Easter, one holiday where rest is needed because you are getting ready to sit your finals. But no, not this year, this year you get to write exams on Easter!! Yay! I have one on Easter Monday, whoopie! So now my whole weekend is going to be crammed with studying, which I hate doing. As I am sure many of you also hate doing.
And on top of this studying visiting family finish work weekend, I also have to find a freaking job. Why? Let me ask you why is it that this time of the year is so stressful? It may be because I am letting it be, but I think I have good reason. Two of my exams are going to rape me, it is going to be brutal and I have so far been unsuccessful in finding a summer job which probably means I will be going back to my shit ass job at Tim Hortons. Even if it is only for a month until I find a better job it still means that I have to go back. And so I am sitting here worrying over jobs and not my exams which I really should have started to study for already.
Here is my conclusion, exams are stupid and pointless. Trying to prove you know the things you learned over the course of the year, I mean really, don’t you think the teachers would know if you had or not depending on all your work. And some people really suck at writing exams. It is all just a bunch of garbage, adding this extra stress on you when it is the end of the year and really no one cares anymore.
So this weekend I get to study, go to job interviews, celebrate my Grandpas 80th birthday ( this is something that actually matters, not who said what in the Platonic dialogues) oh and study some more. Good times!

I hope you all have a very happy Easter!!

~Tegan

Fried Green Brain and Hands

2006-04-10T23:03:00.000-04:00

I think maybe if I start typing, something will come to me. That's usually the way it goes when my brain feels like it's been yanked through the canal of my ear, stepped on and then stuffed back in the other side: bits of gravel and all. The fact is that I don't have anything profound to say. I sit here, staring at Nikki's answers to an online exam that she has to have submitted by 5:00 tomorrow afternoon [I'm editing her answers for her] and I wonder what I care about religion in schools in the 1800s. "Don't think I'm an idiot because I can't write" she said to me [or something like that].

There are dishes in my sink that smell like old milk. I know where they came from, I know what they were used for, I just don't care that they get done [and until the rest of the apartment starts to smell like old milk, they'll likely stay in the sink]. On the counter are six shot glasses, they're all clean.

You know, when we first developed the idea for this blog everything was ideal. Naively, we all thought that we'd be able to contribute regularly and never have any drout of ideas. As a writer, I can only comment on how women are fundamentally evil and how sex is the axis of life so many times. I don't want to write fiction here. No poetry or prose. So what do I write?

I can only try to do out do myself [of course because I can never be better than another writer on the blog...] and I can tell you that everyone should love Jesus this week. Yes, that's right. I said it. There happy? I got it out there like a random fit of terrets. Everyone should love Jesus this week because it's Easter and I'm not sure if amongst all the Easter Bunnies and chocolates you realize that once again, Jesus is getting the shaft. At Christmas, we're more interested in the idea of presents, decorating and Sanata Claus [at least Santa Claus is sort of a real, possibly could be real myth] but Jesus is being outdone by a giant bunny rabbit that quite likely eats children and that lays eggs? Please. Is nobody else appalled by the fact that the world's biggest religious icon [aside from Al Sharpton] is being forgotten because of chocolate eggs? He came back from the dead! Even if you're not religious, don't you think it's cooler to celebrate a guy that was nailed to a cross, bled to death but still had the stuff to be resurrected? We watch movies about this shit all the time and we can't be bothered to celebrate it in real life as a genuine holiday?!

I don't know where that came from.

It's either the smell seeping across the place or the not thinking while I type. CJ;

Trying not to hack up a lung ...

2006-04-04T23:52:00.000-04:00

At the route of every problem lies an answer. This is something I've come to live by [not necessarily by choice so much as necessity]. I have no real problem in mind, I just thought it would be a good way to start this post. Actually, that's not entirely true. There is a problem and that problem is that I had already written a post that I was about to submit but that I thought was too serious and I wasn't feeling like posting something serious tonight. You see, I've got this congestion in my chest that when I cough makes me feel like I'm going to heave up a lung. Beautiful picture no? And in this post, I discussed my fear of going to the doctor and how my friend Nora [who has just gotten over a spout of pneumonia] had suggest I go see the university physician [or any physician] before whatever this ball of guck in my chest gets worse. But I didn't feel like submitting that.

I've been reading Chuck Klosterman's Sex, Drugs and Coacoa Puffs for inspiration and it's been so inspirational that I had made a conscience decision never to mention it in one of my posts. So much for that. It's a seemingly beneign collection of essays that Klosterman has written about popular culture: his girlfriend falling in love with John Cusask, his addiction to the Sims video game, his obsession with MTV's 'The Real World'. It's really all just piddly nonsense. The kind of piddly nonsense that a guy like me looks to for inspiration. The thing is that that piddly nonsense is relevant to Klosterman and everything he discusses in his book has somehow shaped the world he lives in. It's not just the world, it's Chuck Klosterman's world. Wow, that was perhaps a little too profound for 12:37 a.m.

So what is relevance? I guess it's a sensation. I'd hazard a notion that it has to do with a sense of belonging [to the outside as well as your own world], of accomplishment, of fulfillment. Does anybody ever stop being relevant? Do you need to feel belonging, accomplishment and/or fulfillment to be relevant? If you're relevant to yourself but not to others, are you still relevant? What's the criteria?

One thing is for certain: everybody wants to feel relevant. Everybody wants the thing(s) they do to have some affect on someone else, no matter how small the affect is [I wanted to use the word minute there but I'm still not sure how to spell it, there must be a funny French thing over one of the letters]. Personally, my relevance is in making sure I have the complete library of Boston Legal episodes on my computer [William Shatner is god] but at the same time, there are more serious - less fun but more sentimental - things that give me relevance like the love of my family and friends, my drive to succeed and my ability to create [and knowing that someday I'll prove Tegan wrong].

For a lot of the people I know, the only thing that is relevant right now is being done with school - getting through the next couple weeks of hell before the summer. There's nothing to say that that's not a relevant feeling, it's just that for me, there are more relevant things than allowing myself to be stressed out or distraught over my last couple weeks of third year. That's actually more relevant to me than the work: the fact that it's the last couple weeks of my third year of university.

I always like watching legal dramas on TV or a movie and hearing one of the lawyers object with regard to relevance. After writing this, I'll definitely be more cognizant of what really is relevant ... to me: cough medicine & William Shatner. CJ;

Excuses / Praises / and A Little Practice...all in a days work

2006-04-04T12:06:00.000-04:00

After reading Chris’s last blog I got inspired to write something. I’ve not been very good the past few weeks of posting anything. You know how pesky little things such as school and life get in the way of things. The only problem with using this as an excuse is that I really can’t, because if writing is what I want to do with my life, I am going to have to learn to not let ‘life’ get in the way. In fact it is life that makes for the best stories, so I suppose I should start writing about it all.
I’ve been busy looking over and organizing some of my short stories and poems for this portfolio so I can get into a creative writing class next year. Both Chris and I are actually applying for this. And here is where I get a little worried. (I can’t believe that I am about to say this...I am going to stroke Chris’s ego a little bit) He really can write, and he has had a lot more experience with it, and he has a lot more written material than I do. And so we are competing against each other and if I were to place money on who got in over the other, I know who would win. Chris has said to me before that I am more talented than him, and I laugh and go along with it, because well it’s funny and I like to pretend that I am right and that it is true. Problem is, it’s not true. (There you go Chris, how does that feel?)
Since I was a kid all I have wanted to do was read, as I got older I got interested in the writing aspect of it all. And now I am intending to follow a dream into writing for the rest of my life. I too would love to write a novel and live off the royalties. Unfortunately anything that I have ever started for a novel, turned into a short story, my ability to carry a character through a novel sized plot line doesn’t seem to be there. Maybe I just need more practice or need to find that story that will make it happen. But most of my literary heros were in their prime at my age. J.D. Salinger was publishing short stories in the New Yorker, Hemingway only made it to 33 years, at this point his head was full of ideas. Wilde, Kerouac, Joyce, Vonnegut, Steinbeck, Orwell. These are authors that I inspire to be like, I would love to write a piece that embodies their spirit, the way they wrote. The problem with literature these days is that it has moved away from the type of things these authors wrote about. The world has seen them before and now they are looking for something else. For the most part I write the way I talk, which can be a good and bad thing, I think I just need to become a little more refined.
What I like about this blog is that it is getting me to write more often, and about different things. Same goes for this magazine that Chris and I are doing. It is going to give me more experience. I have never been overly ambitious and so meeting Chris had kind of forced me into starting down the road to accomplish my dream. So there you go again Chris, you seem to be in my good books today....weird.
~Tegan

My mum says I should write ...

2006-04-03T23:58:00.000-04:00

My mum sent me a message over MSN today: "what's up with the blogs, no one has written one in 5 days." She's an avid reader, sometimes my greatest critic. We don't discuss it outside the Internet but I know she comments and within our group of writers, we joke that my mum might be the best audience we have. So, I'll dedicate my - essay tainted, exam fearing - post to my mum: long may she support my dead end writing career.

I've written about a lot of things. I've written about Super Mario in grade two, Canadian Federalism, the Gravedigger in Hamlet as the Shakespearean "wise fool"; I've written about my girlfriend going to see strippers [my dad really liked that piece], high school Students' Council presidents not doing their job [got spat in the face for that one], sex [getting it and not], women [never understanding them], falling in love, falling out of love, falling over people and falling on people. I've written the beginnings of novels, lines of poetry in every sort of fashion and even erotica a time or two [only the most classy of sex literature, the sort of stuff I'd never let my mother read despite her overly educated Harloquin romance taint]. I've written newspaper articles, magazine essays, editor's letters and pamphlets for non-profit organizations. I have quite the author's resume, I think you get the picture. Am I good at it? Well, I don't know.

I'd like to think I am. I'd like to be able to make a life for myself arguing that Grey's Anatomy really is a Sunday night nightmare or that Tom Jones is the best living singer in the world and that his song 'Sex Bomb' can get any man laid if it's played at the right time and to the right woman [I'd emphasize the right woman part]. I'd like to eventually finish a book, sell it and live off the royalties and although I'll probably get it, I'd like to never have to use my teaching degree because I'm just that good. And it's funny because writing seems to be the one thing that I'm good at but don't have an ego about.

So how do I develop my writing ego? Well, I look at guys like Hemingway or Cohen - two guys on opposite ends of a huge spectrum with other guys like King, Martel & Fitzgerald in the middle and for fun, we'll throw in Peggie Atwood to fight with the boys - and I think, I can be one of them. I read Hemingway and think "You simplistic twit" or Cohen "You dirty old man" and believe that I can be just like either one of them if I tried; only things are different now. In order to be a successful author, I have to be original and creative and I have to write something with a controversial scene like a crack addict dying in a public toilet or a homosexual character that the reader can have sympathy for [not because they're gay but because something terrible happens to them].

I had a conversation about a week ago with one of the other writers on Tailor Made Journalist and the discussion was about writing style. It was about getting out of your comfort zone to experience new types of writing and subject matter, she said - "__________________ is what I like, I like to write about it; it's what I want to do and it's all I want to write about" and I remember, in a rye and Coke haze [Hemingway style], saying something prolific like as a writer, you need to be more than just ____________, you need to be everything and every kind of writing to every reader. I don't even follow my own advice sometimes.

I write about women because they're every male writer's stereotypical lost world, like Jack Nicholson's character says in As Good As It Gets when asked how he writes women's characters: "I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability"; I write about pop culture because I'm exposed to it every day [there isn't anyone else I know that can ramble off the names of each Survivor contestant voted off from every season in order]; I write about sex because everybody wants it and I write about my life because as I said in my last post, women are always right and my life is really the only thing I can ever be right about aside from the fact that the Conservatives are the shittiest of Canadian political parties and Stephen Harper should be taken out back and shot. Can I say that on a blog? [If there are any Canadian security officials reading this, I'm fiercly patriotic and would never do anything to harm the Prime Minister despite the fact that he's a douche]. Douche by the way is a word that I recently had to have explained to me, if you require a definition, try this one: http://en.mimi.hu/sexuality/douche.html

CJ;

P.S. The one thing I don't write very well are endings.

Why I'm Right and You're Wrong

2006-03-29T11:06:00.000-05:00

Here's the thing: I'm right and you're wrong. That's just the way I think of it and regardless of what you say, I'm not going to change my mind. How's that for a sociology experiment?

Societal stereotypes associate men with being wrong more often than women. In fact, in a study conducted by some graduate students at Cambridge University, 63.8% of women believed that men were inherently wrong in the majority of the arguments they make; those believed that men either lied or exaggerated in some way in order to get their point across or to solidify their argument. Men's opinions in society -- although they are the basis for much criticism based on the stereoptyical male dominance belief -- are a joke. Women immediately expect a man to be wrong and in contrast to a man's response when a woman is wrong, they rub it in.

In searching my memories, I can recall several times when I have known myself to be right in an argument with a woman. I recall more times when the woman has falt out told me I was wrong and I accepted it. Fewer times when I was in an argument with a woman, she told me I was wrong and I stood my ground. There are tones of times however where I was made to feel guilty by a woman for being right so I pretended to be wrong.

Tegan and I have a running joke where she says "Of course I'm right, I'm always right" and usually it's the case and because it's a running gag, I don't mind her saying it but at its core, Tegan's assertion is the mentality of most women. Women conversely would argue that it's the egotistical mentality of men, that men are the ones that think they are always right. What if we are always right? God forbid this becomes so deep as to become a conflict based on gender equality because if it does, men will always be in the red. CJ;

Who really is the most sexiest woman alive?

2006-03-28T11:08:00.000-05:00

In the November issue of Esquire magazine, Jessica Biel was named the Sexiest Woman Alive'. Over the course of a couple months, writer A.J. Jacobs alluded various parts of Biel's physique through a pictorial series, her ... "liquid lips, ... pearly ankles, ... Boulder shoulders" until finally she was revealed as the magazine's golden girl in November. As with everything, there was disagreement.

"There's no way she's the Sexiest Woman Alive," Nikki says to me. I ask her who is and we have a conversation about other possible alternatives, some of which we agree on and others we don't. The one thing that we do agree on is that Biel has very few qualifications that allow for her to be given the title. Nikki becomes an authority on this issue in a second and is very adament about her choices: Charlize Theron, Penelope Cruz, Scarlett Johanson ... "I can think of a million!" she says. And she's right, there are women who are sexier than Biel (I just can't agree with Nikki on Penelope Cruz).

All this talk about the sexiest woman alive got me to thinking ... who would I have picked?

Nicole Kidman

Why? You can't tell me that there is anyone in the entertainment industry that flaunts as much talent and beauty as this woman. She's got the Australian accent, the long legs, the soulful eyes and a really great ass.

How? In comparison to Biel, Kidman has that innate lustful look when she wants to. Any who has seen Eyes Wide Shut can tell you that.

Scarlett Johanson

Why? The only word that can used to describe her is bombshell. Her voice has that sultry sound to it (sort of makes you wonder what she would sound like in ... uh ...) and aside from being a beaming blond, she's got a matching pair of ... eyes.

How? You want to talk to me about lucious lips? Look at this girl! Her bottom lip looks like it could peel an apple.

Julianne Moore

Why? Tegan wants to talk about an eye fuck ... look at this! I melted as soon as I saw this picture and by melted I mean ... nevermind (joke, mom, joke!) Biel doesn't have an eye fuck like that.

How? I just said it ... Biel doesn't have an eye fuck like that. Click on the picture to enlarge.

Rachel McAdams

Why? It's true that I'm a tad biased on this one but the fact is that Rachel has the "It Factor" ... god I sound like Simon Cowell. She's got the smile that goes from one side of her face to the other, the piercing eyes and if I can say so, the back home "girl next door" quality that every guy fantasizes about at some point.

How? There's something about the spot on her chin, on the left side of her face. Yow!

Betty White

Why? Yowzer! Are you kidding? The reason is obvious!

How? Not only is Betty successful and quite obviously one of the best actresses of our time but at over 80 years old, she's looking pretty fine for an old dame.

Needless to say, there are better options for the Sexiest Woman Alive. Esquire fumbled.

Comments? CJ;

If...

2006-03-27T23:10:00.000-05:00

The If Book: 500 questions for the game of life. Interesting concept. Fascinating book.
Here are some questions that I have answered, and for you to ponder. Feel free to answer them in a comment!

If you could be more ambitious in only one aspect of your life, what would it be?
- Socially

If you had to name the least erotic part of the human body, what would it be?
- Knee Cap

If your children could only read four books while growing up, which would you have them read?
- To Kill a Mockingbird, The Hobbit, Cats Cradle, Nineteen Eighty Four. (This was the hardest question for me to answer, being a huge book nerd myself only allowing four books, but I figured that these books have a strong moral theme that could teach my children something. And well The Hobbit is just a classic children’s book so it would be the first one they read)

If you had to name the book from your childhood that had the most influence on you, what book would it be?
- The Lord of the Rings, because it got me hooked on reading.

If you had to pay one dollar for every time you thought of sex in any form, how long would it be before you went bankrupt?
- Considering I have very little money as it is right now, I’d say much too soon.

If you found out that there is no afterlife in any sense, how would you change your life?
- I wouldn’t

If you had to eliminate one emotion from your life, which would it be?
- self pity

If you had to recall the nicest compliment ever given to you, what would it be?
- That I was ‘something else’. I would rather be told that there is no one else like me, and that I am completely original than anything else.

If you were six inches tall for a day, what would you do?
- Live in somebody’s pocket!

If you could live in a past era just so you could wear the clothes of the time, when would it be?
- The 20s, love the flapper dresses!

If you could forget one thing, what would it be?
-Nothing, everything that you would wish to forget is probably something that helped you grow as a person.

So that’s just some food for thought I guess, and a little insight into who I am as well.
You all should get the If book. Or If 2, or the If book for lovers. It’s a good way to waste a day!!
~Tegan

2006-03-27T12:27:00.000-05:00

Is affirmative action still necessary? Many people argue that it is no longer necessary because there are no longer institutionalized notions of inferiority within our society. I think, on the other hand that racism is so institutionalized within our society that it is a self fulfill prophesy. Racial minority, in many cases, are born into economically disadvantage situations. This situaitons lead to a need for more capital accumulation within the family. Thus many people raised in a poorer environment will not continue with education. Economically it can be proven that education is the element which can prevent the intergenerational persistence of poverty. What does it say when tuition fees are so high? To me I read this as a way in which our society keeps people of lesser economic standing, in many cases minority populations, in a position where they are dominated. Therefore is affirmative action necessary or do we, as a society, need to address some of the root problems associated with our economic, political and social system?

Truth be told ...

2006-03-25T09:20:00.000-05:00

And here's to you Miss Rankine ... hey, hey, hey ...

2006-03-23T10:35:00.000-05:00

I told Nikki that I would write a blog post about her and I really had no idea what to write, so I thought I'd try to be a little creative. Here it is ... [I hope you like it Nik]

[Us in the Future]

Plane ticket to Honduras from Toronto: $467.83 - taxes included. There's a stop over in Miami. I don't bother to find out how long the flight is, I don't particularly care. I'm disturbed by the fact that I have to fly at all although I do it all the time. The last time was three months ago, a flight from Toronto to the Congo and back again on a Canadian peacekeeping transport plane delivering aid to some Conganese villagers in the heart of the country; I was going to write a piece for Time magazine. But at nearly thirty-nine years old, my affinity for flight has dwindled significantly: I don't get the same rush that I once did and the adrenilen of knowing that I'm some thousand feet above the ground doesn't even register as a semi-hardon anymore. But flying still bothers me.

In Miami, I wait on the plane sitting next to a woman who I would presume to be around the same age as me. She's reading Mary Shelly's Frankenstein on a palm pilot. Everything is digital now. The seats are comfortable but they're a horrendous red color that I can't stand -- I feel like I'm sitting on a bleeding cow carcus. The man across the isle, probably younger than me but much fatter, keeps sneezing into his hankerchief and then he clears his throat in a disgusting horking sound, husky and wet. The only decent thing about this flight is that there are no screaming children or under passionate parents.

Honduras is my vacation. I'm going to visit a friend that I haven't seen in almost ten years, since my first wedding. We met in university - sort of fatefully - and I latched onto her like a child does their mother's leg amongst strangers: because she put up with me. After graduation, she went to teacher's college, recived her teaching degree and prompty took off to Central America to teach English. We'd joked one time that I'd follow right along with her, do the same things that she did in her life because it would make mine easier but instead, I recived a lucorative offer from a news magazine to cover the U.S. led war in Korea and took to becoming a traveling journalist for the passed nineteen years. We haven't lost touch at all: phones calls, funny postcards and pictures of family [hers] but they're usually scattered over the course of a few months. I find something in my mailbox when I get the chance to go home: a letter, just two sentences - "C: Weather is nice. Read your piece in Esquire. Good stuff. When you can get your head out of your ass, come visit. N." She tells me that I could teach English there too, that I might not have the patience for it but the kids would like me.

The plane lands in Honduras in the late afternoon, the pilot says it's 4:06. The fat man across the isle sneeze at me when I get up. I didn't pack much because I'm used to traveling light - an overnight bag that I can store in the overhead compartment with two shirts, change of underclothes, a camera, notepad, grooming supplies for my beard, a pair of thin pants and a tazer [never know when it may come in handy].

The move through security and customs in short because I only have the one bag and the tazer is zipped inside the lining. If they caught me with it they'd probably arrest me and lock me away but traveling to countries like Korea and Australia now, it's worth the risk. I tucked the address in the breast pocket of my vest, I can barely read it. My writing used to be legible, like a woman's. I had girl writing. But now it's just scratch. When I decipher it, I take a taxi toward the middle of the city. People are walking, dressed differently and they look at me - with my long greying beard and hair - inside the taxi cab and some of them laugh, they know I'm English something.

The taxi lets me out at the front door. Her home is like she described to me and I think, "That one English class really paid off." But there's no doorbell so I knock, three times. I wonder if she's actually expecting me. I second guess, trying to figure out if I'm here on the right day or if she'll ask me to come back. I hope that she doesn't come to the door naked because I'd feel awkwardly overdressed; but when she opens the door, she's new. Her face is older: the lines under her eyes have changed even though they've always been there in some form or another - now they look permanent. Her hair is longer, tied back in a bun just like in school and for thirty-six years old, her body looks to have aged well - although it is clothed.

"Damn old man, you look like hell. What have you done to yourself?"

She hugs me, makes a playful tug at my beard and smiles widely. When she smiles, her face still bunches up and her eyes go small. They haven't changed at all - her eyes although I know mind have become darker, beaten up. Honduras has been kind to her. The sun has tanned her skin. She invites me in, hugs me again and tells me that I look great but that I need a shave and then she laughs again.

The things here are immaculate, built well - including the kid Nikki introduces me to as her pool boy. She kisses him on the forehead and sends him back outside. She looks at me and grins, bigger than before. Devilish like she's sending me a subliminal message. This has changed about her, this outwardly confident femininity. She tells me about her teaching, the kids, about Honduras and what I can expect in the city. She asks if I plan on writing something about my experience here and I tell her that I was considering it. Her assumption is that I'm not staying long because of my overnight bag but I assure her that it's standard packing for a guy in my profession, animals of habit. She talks more than I do, catches up to speed how on her children are doing and says that I won't see them because they're on a trip with their father. Son of a bitch she calls him. Her face smiles the whole while. I vaguely remember this giddiness that Nikki has, sometimes overwhelming and other times, refreshing. She tells me again that I would make a great teacher here and that the school is always looking for English speaking men.

To be continued? CJ;

Then They Do

2006-03-22T23:25:00.000-05:00

Trace Adkins sings a country song about a father who misses his children's habits and presence after they've grown up -- gone to college, gotten engaged. He starts by expressing his frustration with his kid's morning habits -- his daughter spending too much time in the bathroom, fighting when they're getting into the car and one of them having to use the washroom before they leave and it makes them all late; he says "I swear I can't wait until they grow up". I'm sure that all parents go through that sort of feeling of loss when their first child leaves home.

In first year when I was running a magazine called Isabel, I had a columnist write a piece on the role of parents in the university student's life. He talked about the droning conversations on the telephone, the dreaded visits and the parent's inability to detach. The article was met with some opposition: others felt that having their parent's support and presence was a welcomed and nurturing thing that helped get them through the transition between life at "home" versus life in university. It was all very sentimental and kind. My mom liked the opposition's rebuttal article.

In a conversation with a friend tonight -- a friend who is moving home to live with her parents, I noticed a difference between my impression of life now - in third year - in comparison to first year. I hear people all the time say, "I'm going home" for the weekend, for a holiday or people ask, "Are you going home for...?" But I don't see it that way. I see Peterborough, the place where my things are and where I rent an apartment to be my home. My home is a bachelor apartment two blocks from my college. St.Thomas, where my parents live is "my parent's house" or I say "I'm going to visit my parents" or "I'm going to St.Thomas".

This feeling that I have isn't without sentiment: I've listened to the Trace Adkins song three times while writing this post but at the same time, my question is -- where is the line? When does where your parents live stop becoming "home"? My dad, if he reads this would say "There is no such time. Where your parents live is always your home." And you're right Dad, home will always be my home. It's where I grew up but as part of the independence disconnection, where I move to and where I live and where I have my things needs to be my home. For some reason, for me, someone who can't disconnect themselves after they've effectively moved away from home is in some sort of denial and is perpetuating the unfortunate moment when they will have to completely leave their parents home and create a nest of their own.

I feel like I've made that disassociation and even though it was difficult, maybe moreso for my parents than for me, it has been easier to get through the transition gradually rather than in "one fatal swoop" as my dad would say. I think that I have a good relationship with my parents: I talk to them frequently, keep them attuned to the things that are happening in my life and they keep me up to date with the things that are happening with them there.

I wrote this so that I could boast that I took a break from criticizing women or discussing sex but maybe I've made a valid point here. Imagine that. CJ;

Am I a COMMUNIST?

2006-03-19T15:56:00.000-05:00

To dislike capitalism, does not entail disengaging from the world, rather what is important is creating a positive impact, as oppose to continuing to take part in destructive activities. Capitalism as an ideology is very negative. The system, in general is based on extracting profit at the expense of others. The negative consequences of capitalism are pervasive and undeniable. Environmentally, capitalism, as it has been progressing, is incredible destructive. Pollution, soil erosion and the impact of urban centres all add to the destructive process of capitalism. Poverty is also another negative aspect of capitalism. The competition required in a capitalism market, causes mergers and bankruptcy, creating a situation where the majority of companies are being controlled and run by a small minority of the population. Increased efficiency mixed with reduced budgets, creates wage cuts and increased unemployment. With increased globalization, the negative effects of capitalism have begun to spread wider and faster throughout the world as a whole. Africa since the 1980’s has increasing had a negative GDP, this is a recent phenomenon, which can be directly linked to increase trade liberalization, reduced state protection of industry as well as increased international economic influence on the continent, all of which are aspects of capitalism today. Logically, does it seen reasonable to expect poorer countries, with less “development”, to be able to compete with western businesses? To combat the problems of capitalism seems like an impossible task, however, the cliché statement, known by all DEVELOPMENT students is “ think global, act locally”. Individual action is the first step in creating a better world. If clothes are made in sweat shops, don’t buy as many clothes, buy what you need. If food is produced with chemicals, buy organically produced food from a farmer or a market. These individual actions, if reproduced the world over have the possibility of creating a better world. What would be better then a world where all people could live comfortable, have food and shelter as well as enjoyment and happiness. This type of article may typecast me as a “communist” however, I am really an advocate for social democracy.

spiders.......gah

2006-03-19T09:37:00.000-05:00

Does any one know what the real difference between a phobia and a fear is? I know that there are lot’s of people with major fears, I happen to be one of those people. I can not stand spiders. Everything about them. It is not that I am ‘afraid’ of them. I know that they will not hurt me, (except maybe poisonous tarantulas). But that does not stop me from freaking out whenever I see one, or when somebody tells me a story about one I imagine that I can feel them crawling on me. Just writing this is giving me the shivers.
Why is this?
I have tried to be rational about my fear, after all they are just bugs, I can crush them with my hand. Not that I do, because I can’t get myself to be that close to them, I need to use a shoe. And I know that spiders do a lot of good for the world, eating mosquitoes and what not. And if they did not exist there would be a major disruption in the ecosystem. But I do not care. I would be so happy if they became extinct. So is this a phobia or just fear or stupidity?
A lot of people have this same fear of spiders. At least a fear of spiders can sort of be explained. But there are also some very strange phobias
Take balloons and clowns for instance. Some people are actually deathly afraid of balloons.(seriously, you can’t make that shit up)
Why do we humans, the only animal on earth who has the capability to reason, have irrational fears? And why do we let them control our lives? And how can we stop. You’ve seen those ridiculous things on T.V. where some person claims to be able to help you get over your fear by submitting you to being surrounded by those things that you hate. To me that would make it so much worse. So are we doomed to forever being afraid of things that cannot hurt us? I think maybe yes because I certainly am never going to stick my head into a glass box with a bunch of spiders ( that sounds more like Fear Factor then therapy). And if this is so, I think we may need to re-evaluate just how rational the human race really is...

~Tegan

SNL Joke of the Week

2006-03-19T00:17:00.000-05:00

Brokeback Mountain: the film starring Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal - recently nominated for several Academy Awards, including best picture - has recently made history for being the first cowboy movie where the good guys get it in the end.

Thank you. CJ;

Something to write ...

2006-03-18T18:28:00.000-05:00

There's gotta be something. Think.

You're thinking about this too hard. You're trying to be too controversial. You really don't need to write about something that will get people going. You're thinking too hard.

There's gotta be something.

Uh, women thinking they're fat? No ... touchy ... very touchy ... but I could go with it ... women thinking they're fat ... okay ... well, they're not. Hmm ... there's a way around this somehow. Sensitive subject. Next.

Something witty, yeah, that would be good -- something witty. I could write something about Tegan's hair. Tegan's "sex hair". That would need too much explanation ... see, she got her hair cut and it looks like ... yeah ... no, there's gotta be something else.

How about that massive comment left about my post about manipulative women? Anonymous? Who writes a massive comment like that makes it anonymous? Lame.

The Arthur: yeah, the Arthur. Not working at the Arthur anymore. Son of a bitch. Too much frustration there.

What the hell?

Esquire ... Esquire's gotta have something controversial that I can write about ...

Twenty minutes later.

Nothing. Damnit. How could Esquire let me down like that?

St. Patrick's Day. Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day and we got drunk. It was fun. I had a great time. Feel like I'm in grade two ... minus the getting drunk part. Don't think I did that when I was in grade two. Nowadays, ya never know though.

The weather. Pause. Yeah right.

Elizabethtown. Leah and I rented Elizabethtown. Good flick. Chick flick. Best line: "I don't know much about everything but the part I do know about I know pretty well." Or something like that.

Chuck Klosterman says that capital punishment isn't right but since some states have it, it should be used more often.

Should Canada have capital punishment? Absolutely. A man that kills should be killed. A man like Paul Bernardo doesn't deserve life behind bars, he deserves eternity in hell.

Jon and Jen like to argue about capitalism. He calls Jen a "communist". I can't really argue that capitalism is bad. I don't think I'd have much of a future in journalism if capitalism was bad. At least in a capitalistic state, I can write about or criticize capitalism.

I could write about what I know. Yeah. Good idea. What do I know?

Blank stare at monitor.

Facebook. Have you heard of this? This online community that links you together with people that go to the same school as you? How do these things exist? They make meeting people so much easier. Hmmm.

Eye fuck? It's been done.

Going to watch Walk the Line.

Maybe I can think of something to write then. CJ;

INSTRUCTIONS: Listen, Think, Speak...and Repeat.

2006-03-15T13:59:00.000-05:00

Many people do not realize the way in which language is manipulated to further opinions. Language can be used as a strategy to create solidarity and consent. This issue directly relates to the field of journalism. Journalists and the media often frame issues through language that is politically ‘unbiased’(1). Using ‘unbiased’ language, allows for the adaptation of conventional politics followed by the presentation of these political views as neutral. What is so disturbing about this problem is that much of society does not realize or acknowledge the overtly biased opinion presented as the truth. The war in Iraq was often called “Operation Iraqi Freedom” on all of the major news network in the United States. This title shows the one sided nature of the media coverage presented to the average citizen. What are the consequences of war? How does the war impact the average citizen in Iraq? How does this war economically impact the United States? Is this war legitimate? Questions of this nature are rarely, if ever, presented in mainstream media. Using the example of American coverage of the Iraq war may give the impression that manipulation within the media only happens on a large scale. On the contrary, media and its coverage of local and international issues is biased in its coverage of both political and apolitical actions. It is easy to explain why the media (owned by Viacom, Disney and General Electric) would present the war in Iraq as a positive and liberating experience, however, it is more difficult to explain why in general all issues are not presented truthfully. A truthful representation of current events would create an opportunity for power relations to change. The media is motivated by economic goals that if presented in a truly neutral atmosphere would be called into question. By presenting a political or economic opinion that is counter to that of the owners of American, as well as Canadian, media would give average citizens the opportunity to question the legitimacy of these corporations values. So why should anyone believe what is written in this article? They shouldn’t. This article presents a biased opinion, which should be weighed out against other biased opinions. Thinking critically about what is presented, is the way in which our society should operate. The next time an opinion, political or not, is given think about the implications of it, and decide for yourself its validity.

(1)‘unbiased’, quotation marks indicate that the term unbiased in being called into question.

Jen

Dear Minister of Education ...

2006-03-15T11:04:00.000-05:00

In exchange for the 20% ($200) increase in tuition fees, I would like to request the following ...

1) Facilities that are accessible, feasible and appropriate for teaching and learning.

2) Accountable administrative officers who are open and honest with the student body and who are willing to listen, without prejudice, to the concerns of students.

3) Smaller class sizes and more professors and teachers to accomodate the increasing number of students.

4) In conjunction with number 4, professors and teachers who are capable and knowledgable and are actually capable of teaching.

5) Attractive teaching assistants.

6) One on one time with attractive teaching assistants.

7) Updated technology and educational materials available for the use of all students.

8) Decent cafeteria food served by politicians and attractive models.

9) The ability to choose my own courses of interest without having requirements dictated to me by elitists.

10) A McDonald's on campus.

Thank you for your time, my check is in the mail.

Yours truly,

Your Children

The Man in the Iron Undies

2006-03-15T10:17:00.000-05:00

I've written about a woman's ability to manipulate. Tegan has written about the power of confidence and its attractiveness. There has to be a middle ground here and there is: men to learn to both project the confidence that Tegan was talking about and manipulate women as a sort of deterrent.

When a man is manipulative and confident, things change. Suddenly, the man is amplifying the spark of desire between himself and the woman he is interested in, all the while destroying any sexual tension that might arise.

"Destroy sexual tension?" you ask, "why the hell would I want to do that? Are you crazy?"

In fact, I'm not. Destroying sexual tension with a woman by walking away when she lingers to talk a friend, by asserting oneself as an individual who isn't interested in clinging to their perspective partner's side and by letting them know that you aren't all that afraid of losing track of them creates a challenge for the woman. Women like a challenge; so much so that by being a challenge, the sexual tension becomes more intense.

Let's face it, most men can't handle sexual tension and we become insecure basketcases when things aren't clear cut and it's at that point where we screw things up. Most men don't grasp the idea of shrugging off come ons and sexual advances, why does it have to be about sex?

"Not about sex? Are you mad?"

When a guy is a challenge, it generally means that the woman is no longer in control of the situation. It means that there suddenly in a balance in the force and that the game has evened up. Most women associate confidence with power and because they already consider themselves powerful in any sort of romantic setting, a man who has confidence has risen to their same playing field. Mind you, at the same time, a man who thinks "I don't need sex, she doesn't have that power over me" is just being cocky.

That being said, a man who thinks "I don't need sex" is just waiting to be baited. Once the woman taps into this idea and her radar picks up on the cockiness, she'll do her best to break down that barrier and inevitably, Mr. Cocky will crumble and she is back in control again. The power has shifted.

The fact that I've learned is that we men are so damn boring, that we have one aspiration in mind usually and that is what we work towards. In a book that I've mentioned before called The Game by Neil Strauss, he discusses these theories: the fact that women love anticipation and yearn for the unknown; that when it comes to romance, women like to be surprised, even if they say they don't. Not knowing what to expect or when to expect something is a huge turn on for a woman especially if an act is done with confidence and sincerity and most times both of those qualities come simply when a guy acts ... like himself.

I know my buddy Jon is out there somewhere right now reading this and saying, "Chris, you're a panzy." And he's also probably laughing at the fact that I mentioned The Game because he has read it too. So, he knows all of the things I have said to be true.

Confidence is a huge hurdle for guys and oftentimes, a guy who fakes confidence to try to impress a woman will likely walk away without so much as her name. CJ;

Love Hurts

2006-03-14T23:35:00.000-05:00

Did you know that love actually makes us go crazy? There is some hormonal imbalance that happens, that makes us obsess over our new lover or old lover or friend (basically anyone that you love). And did you know that a part of our brain reacts to emotional news in a physical sense? That is why it hurts so much when you say you are broken hearted. I have been wondering why it is that love has such control over our lives.
Most of the greatest works of literature are centered around love stories. Movies and television shows always have a storyline about a couple. Love sells, it drives the industry, it keeps people tuning in weekly to shows to watch our favourite couple. It makes us want to have and find that same type of relationship. It seems that the whole world is in love with being in love.
There are so many different types of love. Love for your parents or guardians or role models, that unconditional respect and gratitude and appreciation. Love for a best friend. Someone that is there for you no matter what, who you can lean on and depend on. Love for a pet. They are becoming more and more a part of the family now, and to lose one is like losing a most trusted friend, its devastating. Your love for your lover. That excitement and heart fluttering joy, the thought of a future with them. Love consumes us in many forms every single day. So what happens to us when it suddenly disappears?
When our parents die, or grandparents or our dog. Our world comes crashing down around us. We do not know how to move on. The grief is unbelievable. Dying is a natural part of life, from the day we are born we are one step closer to the day when we are going to die. It is a fact. Not a pleasant one but not all things in life are pleasant. The thing about someone dying however is that you know that it is going to happen and so you can sort of deal with it.
Unrequited love on the other hand can leave a person in a greater state of depression then losing a family member. Break ups too are a natural progression in life, yet it does not make them any less painful. A broken heart has to be one of the worst feelings in the world. It leaves you with those questions, why wasn’t I good enough. It makes you feel invaluable, unworthy, unfit. It makes you doubt yourself.
With all the pain that comes with love, why do we as a human race continue to put so much faith into it?
I guess it is a relatively easy question to answer. Because no matter how much it may hurt at the end, there is nothing else like love. It gets us through a bad day. It gives us hope and fulfillment in life. It makes us believe in something good, when we are surrounded by so much bad.
Love is the most painful, nauseating, depressing emotion in the world. And it is so totally worth every single second.

~Tegan

Why Men Score ...

2006-03-13T10:04:00.000-05:00

Upon reflection, the following cartoons depict the real reason why men are able to successfully parttake in sexual intercourse with an attractive woman - nevermind the eye fuck:

The Exorcism of a Woman's Man

2006-03-12T13:43:00.000-05:00

Amongst my group of friends and associates, it's not a secret that I am a lady's man (or at least some sort of unsuccessful variation). I wouldn't consider myself charming or womanzing but I would call myself a pleasant observer and researcher of that which is the woman sex. That being said, Tegan was kind enough to make reference to a post I had done a couple weeks ago [that some how disappeared] about the manipulative powers of women and I would like to reiterate my steadfast belief in a woman's ability to outwit a man; not because she is smarter than him but because she is more powerful.

I'll admit that just now, I have had an epiphany: I support stereotypes. I don't have a problem with them and nor would I ever argue that stereotypes are harmful to society; in fact, the only way to prove my point (that women are only able to outwit men based on power rather than brains) is to use a stereotype. If a man is at a bar, his first impression of a woman is her looks, her body, her features and his attraction to her is guided by impulses (the kind of impulse that comes from below rather than up top). His goal then becomes to get the attention of this woman, make her feel some sort of connection and ultimately get into her pants. What men know but constantly forget once the blood flow has been transferred elsewhere is that women know this game plan. Women are aware of where all of a man's brainpower has been rerouted and because even the dumbest of women know this, they are able to take advantage of the situation and make it work to their benefit - "would you like to buy me a drink?", "would you pay for my cab ride home?", "can we get something to eat?" - they are foilers. I have yet to meet a woman who isn't aware of this cult presence that their sex controls and furthermore, one who wouldn't use it to further her own exploits. A woman's power comes from her body, from her ability to use the things that "god" gave her in order to manipulate the simple, sex driven mind of a man.

Men are victims. Men are stupid creatures, guided by a simple discharge -- that occurs in their brains; in contrast, women are vivacious and manipulative hybrids aware that men are lustful idiots unable to control their urges and willing to do anything to have them fulfilled. CJ;

I'm okay, you're okay

2006-03-12T12:33:00.000-05:00

When walking down the street how many people actually look at each other? Noticing that there is a lack of interaction, brings up the question: Why do people look at the ground, and avoid all aspects of interaction when passing each other on the street. After realizing this phenomenon and thinking about it, I have come to a conclusion. People today avoid human interaction because, if they acknowledge others exist, they would have to, also, acknowledge the suffering of others. Individual profit, in today's society, is prioritized over the collective good. Through this logic people are able to disengage from the reality of their actions, taking into acount nothing other then what is legislated. To take a well know theory of commodity fetishism and apply it to human interaction, seperate from the market, shows the extent to which our society has become warped. Karl Marx explains in " Capital" that when buying commodities people rarely think of the processes or individuals involved in the creation of said products. Applying this to larger society it can be seen that, people in general do not acknowlegde how their actions impact others, rather they focus on their own interests. The lack of human interaction in public, in my opinion, is a bi-product of our focus on indivdual profit over the collective good.

The Eye Fuck Revolution continued..

2006-03-12T10:37:00.000-05:00

I have now been termed the founder of the eye fuck revolution. I am not sure if I should be proud of this or a little apprehensive.
In my last post I talked about the negative attributes to the eye fuck. The way it is affecting society and young girls. Now I am going to talk about how it contributes to the life of my age demographic and up. And really by this age, a little eye fuck never hurt anyone!
I ended my last post by talking about how it really is an amusing thing to see. And so I will start there again. You know I am not overly sure what guys think they accomplish when they see a hot girl walk by and they do the whole head turn look up and down zoolander face thing. Usually a girl just rolls her eyes if somebody does that. Unless she is one of those people who strive for attention. But it is not just guys who are funny to watch when they are eye fucking somebody. Girls do it too, and we usually do it in pairs, and so a guy will get a once over and then a giggle or smile to the girl that is next to her. I have a feeling that this may confuse some men, are we laughing at him and the way he looks, or do we actually like him? (Chris posted something a while ago about girls being manipulative. I think this may fall somewhere under that category, not that we are being manipulative, we are just not as obvious all the time)
Eye Fucks are fun. At the bar checking somebody out, or on the street, it happens everywhere. It is what our sexes do. It is a purely animal instinct. You see the prey you look at it closely to make sure its what you want to catch, then you go after it. We are all just lions here. ( or whatever animal you want to be associated with) That being said, I feel that, as the founder, I need to lay down some ground rules.
First: Do not cat call or yell or whistle or any of that. Not only is it embarrassing for you, it is for the person you are eye fucking. I was at a bar last weekend, and this whole group of guys at a pool table saw some girl who seriously had a shirt on that I swear if she moved the wrong way to quickly there would have been some nipple. This pool table group, started yelling and talking very loudly about her, half the bar was suddenly aware of this girl. There is no need for this. I felt bad for the girl, but then realized that she if was wearing a shirt like that to play pool, she was just asking for it. But not all girls do, so respect them a little bit, if you don’t, nothing will ever come of your eye fuck.
Second: Don’t eye fuck everyone you see. It makes you look desperate or lonely or you know willing to have everything and anything. A girl, or guy, won’t approach you if they have seen you eye fucking everyone.
Third: This may go along with the no yelling rule, but don’t make your eye fuck too over dramatic. I know we all like that person to know we think they are attractive, but a subtle eye fuck is the best one around. (It leaves them wanting more...)
The eye fuck has become a staple in our society. It is the starting point for many relationships, and well many a good fuck ( or bad too, depending). Use it, love it, have fun with it.
~Tegan

“Love is the answer, isn’t it? But sex raises a lot of very interesting questions…”

2006-03-11T20:46:00.000-05:00

Kinsey, the 2004 movie starring Liam Neeson, is a fascinating look at the life and work of Dr. Alfred Charles Kinsey, the American "father of sexology", that is, the scientific study of human sexuality. Yes, this film came out nearly two years ago, but I finally got around to renting it the other night and was struck by the fact that Kinsey had already had an impact on my life before I had even heard of him. He has, in fact, had such an impact on modern society’s perception of sex that it’s frightening to imagine what the world would be like today without his valuable work.

The movie spans Kinsey’s life, from his childhood spent under the strict discipline of his devout Methodist father, through his grad student days researching gall wasps, and his marriage to Clara McMillen, which led to his study of human sexual practices and the publication of his most famous books, Sexual Behavior in the Human Male (1948) and Sexual Behavior in the Human Female (1953). These events are not only entertaining to watch, but help explain why Kinsey (rightly) felt that a formal, scientific study of sex was necessary. As the opening credits roll, we witness Kinsey as a little boy listening to his father lecture to a church full of conservatively dressed adults: "Because of the telephone, a young woman can hear the voice of her suitor on the pillow- right next to her! And let’s not forget the most scandalous invention of all: the talon-slide fastener, otherwise known as the zipper, which provides every man and boy speedy access to moral oblivion!" Kinsey was clearly not the only young man of his generation to grow up in such an oppressively conservative environment; when he offers advice to his college students later on, he discovers they have little knowledge of sex, but do have some ridiculous superstitions. "What’s your most common sexual position?", he asks a young couple seeking more satisfaction in the bedroom. "There’s more than one?" the new wife asks in reply.

Kinsey gradually learns that an overwhelming number of his students are concerned with whether or not their sexual practices are "normal". Realizing that there has never been a study conducted to gather data on human sexual practices, he cannot answer this question until he does the research himself. Kinsey trains his research team to interview their subjects in the easygoing and approachable manner necessary to ask questions regarding the most intimate details of their sexual history. One of his most important findings was that some forms of sexual behaviour until that point considered abnormal, such as homosexuality, were in fact very common. When published, these findings caused much controversy throughout the United States, but more importantly, because the books were widely read, they were beneficial to a great many people who previously had had no point of reference when it came to sex, be it the physical act itself, their sexual orientation, or the emotional issues that came with it. These books were one of the triggers of the sexual revolution in the 1960s, which isn’t surprising, considering the general relief and curiosity with which people welcomed the formerly taboo topic of sex when it was finally brought out into the open. Of course, Kinsey also had to deal with attacks on his work, but the books’ popularity was proof that America was ready for a change from the old repression.

And good thing, too. I found it hard to believe that people knew so little about sex right into the 1940s and 50s, but it makes sense that a scientific study of human sexuality as thorough and far-reaching as Kinsey’s would not be possible until that time. It was funny to watch a college-age man stare blankly in confusion at the term "oral sex", though. Clearly, that shows we’ve come a long way since the 50s, and Kinsey’s work played a huge part in that progress. Homophobia may still be rampant, but at least homosexuality is no longer labeled as a mental illness (the American Psychiatric Association corrected this falsehood in 1973). And look at the environment we’ve been raised in compared to that of Kinsey and his students. Most of us have more than a vague notion of what sex is by the time we get to university. Of course, sex is now so prevalent in our culture that it’s practically impossible to be suppressed the way it was before.

As for the film itself, Kinsey is not only highly informative about the man and his work, but very entertaining. Liam Neeson is impressive as Alfred Kinsey, transforming a famous name into a sympathetic and inspiring character. Laura Linney, as his wife, is endearing in her portrayal of an incredibly strong woman. The story of the couple’s relationship is especially delightful, as they both grow from adorably awkward to mutually loving and supportive. The best part, though, is watching Kinsey and his team interview thousands of men and women of all ages about their sex lives, and seeing how willing they are to share the details for science’s sake; this just goes to show how Kinsey provided the much-longed for opportunity to bring sex into mainstream communication.

Downside to the Eye Fuck Revolution

2006-03-08T22:58:00.000-05:00

In one of my classes recently a fellow student was conducting a presentation on a poet that we had been studying. He has a back ground in music so instead of focusing on the words he focused on the sound of the words. In an exercise he had us right down the first words that came to our mind when he read out a few selections. The words were dirt, cab, and sexy. He then had each student say what we wrote. Doing this gave me the opportunity to hear numerous peoples thoughts on one subject. Although this exercise had little to do with the overall presentation, it opened my eyes to some stereotypes.
It is always fascinating to hear what others consider to be sexy, and it is not often that you can hear 20 different opinions all at one time. There were the typical answers such as seductive, and hot and interestingly enough underwear. It shocked me that most of these answers came from women, where as the (well some of the) men of the class had some very different ideas. The men thought sexy was smart, relaxed, and confident.
It is this last answer that I like the best. For in my opinion there is nothing more attractive than a person who is confident in who they are. I don’t mean people who have inflated egos, because that is not attractive at all. I am talking about those people who are secure in themselves. Those people who take things in stride, who are not ashamed to be themselves. It is nice to find a guy who is confident, but for me, to find a secure girl these days is something special. I wonder why the girls of the class thought sexy was hot, or that it was underwear that made us sexy. It is almost like women today are programmed to believe that it is the way we look or what we wear that makes us most attractive.
This has lead me to consider a recent conversation that I had with a friend on MSN. He mentioned my display picture, which is me and my roommate posing like the guy from the Kit Kat commercial, you know the male model who says "you have to make this pouty sexy face that’s a little bit angry... no not angry...Dangerous" well that’s what we were doing, and he thought it was quite amusing. This conversation sparked a discussion on James Dean and his dangerousness. My friend considered himself to be the Trent version of James Dean, which he is soo not. (No offence) but he doesn’t have that smoldering eye fuck gaze. That is what I told him, and it got me thinking about what I have now termed the ‘eye fuck revolution’. Maybe you don’t know what I am talking about, but if any of you have seen Wedding Crashers when Vince Vaughn’s character says that "that girl just eye fucked the shit out of me" that is where I got this term.
Our generation has become increasingly bolder and more provocative. Girls are coming into their sexuality much sooner, and learning how to use it. Personally I see no problem with a girl discovering her sexuality; it is one of our most defining features. And I think that this plays a big part with a girls confidence. What I do have a problem with however, is seeing these young girls dressed in clothes that are to old for them, and behaving as if they are mature. When I see fifteen year old girls being eye fucked by men twice their age it makes me sick. And it makes me wonder where the hell childhood went. Why is there this need to be grown up? You talk to adults and they wish that they could go back to their youthful days, so why do we insist on wasting our years pretending we are something that we are not? This generation is increasingly putting pressure on girls, and boys, to hurry up and fuck, basically. The thing that bothers me the most about this is the fact that you have your whole life to have sex, but at 15, when you don’t even know what life is about, sex is not something that you should be doing. Maybe I see it this way because now that I am exiting the teenage years I am able to look back on how I acted and see that I made an ass of myself. So maybe this is just a stage that everyone goes through, and eventually you grow up. It is all a learning process.
But I am finding that although there is this trend to more daring women, they do not have the confidence to back it up. It is all an act. For the most part the girls in Wedding Crashers, were feeling sad because they wanted a man, and so they sleep with the lead characters. But the women that the men end up with, are the ones who knew what they wanted and first and foremost were secure with themselves. I think that is the most important thing that a girl can learn today. That it is okay to be who you are. And that it is okay to take your time getting there. Don’t rush or force yourself to be something your not. Take your time growing up, you only have one life to live, so make sure you live it by being true to yourself.
I know that I may have just sounded like a self help book, but I have so many friends that are lacking in confidence and try to act in a way that they believe will get them a boyfriend, and I don’t see why they are lying to themselves. Oh and that’s another problem I have, girls ( and guys) believing they will be complete if they just have partner. Again, learn to be proud of yourself, and then you will be complete.

~Tegan

Just a little side note: I think that the eye fuck, is the funniest thing ever. When you see some guy checking a girl out, you can’t help but laugh, because he thinks he is being so smooth, but really, the facial expressions...you know what I mean... next post will be the upside to this eye fuck revolution...

My first TV dinner.

2006-03-07T01:05:00.000-05:00

In the interest of adventure and good natured procrastination, Jen and I decided to perform an experiment tonight. While out and about sending my T4 slip to my mom, making a trip to the bank and picking up some instant coffee, we (or rather I) decided that it would be fun to try two different kinds of TV dinners that featured the same sort of food: riblets, potatos and corn and chicken, potatos and corn - both of which also included a sketchy brownie. The two brands we picked up were Hungry Man's and Swanson's. Never having had a TV dinner before, everything was based on the picture on the front of the box. Not exactly a way that I usually decide what I'm going to eat.

As we quickly learned, what was supposed to be a 4 minute pop into the microwave actually turned into 10-15 minutes. Already, I was disappointed with the meals because I was damn hungry. The riblets were the easiest to make - especially since the Hungry Man's chicken meal couldn't be microwaved and needed to be put into the oven.

Jen trying the Hungry Man's riblet meal. Ultimately, the Swanson's riblets tasted better overall (so did its mashed potatos). However, the Hungry Man's corn and brownie was better than the Swanson's.

Microwaved chicken nuggets I can understand (I used to eat them all the time when I lived at home) but I've never been able to stand microwaved french fries but that was what came with the Swanson's chicken meal. In contrast, the Hungry Man's meal (which needed to be cooked in the oven according to the instructions) was larger pieces of breaded chicken meat served with mashed potatos and corn (both of course came with a brownie that seemed to expand with heat). The plastic container that the Hungry Man's meal was in melted in the oven. Whoops.

Jen trying the chicken nugget meal. Truthfully, after all my years eating chicken nuggets, I ate one of them and couldn't eat another one - no matter how much I smuthered them in ketchup.

In retrospect, as my stromach tries to digest the TV dinners now, it was a bad idea. Just looking at the pictures makes me want to up chuck. Jen and I agreed that the Swanson's meals were overall much better than the Hungry Man's and what's more, they cost less. Would I eat TV dinner's again (if I had a choice), not a chance. Procrastination over. CJ;

Note: In fact, Hungry Man and Swanson are the same thing, so effectively, Jen and I ate two of the same meal. Yes, no need to say it - we know. But I wish to point out the oddness surrounding the fact that the meals unequivicably tasted significantly different. Preservatives maybe?

Oscar honesty: you don't know Jack-shit!

2006-03-06T01:14:00.000-05:00

I'm guilty of being one of the '10s of millions of people from around the world' who tuned in for the annual Oscars ceremony (this being the 78th) that ended about an hour and a half or so ago as I write this at 1:15 in the morning. It's no joke, it's a fact that the Academy of Motion Pictures and Sound made oh so clear during the ceremony tonight: millions of people tune in to watch the little gold man parade across the stage. Makes me wonder why I don't just get a gun and shoot myself.

As I watched tonight, I made mental notes. Of course, the first thing that came to mind while I was watching the red carpet pre-show and trying to avert the urge to poke my eyes out with a sharp pencil, was that I was going to write a blog about the Oscars tonight, this morning, whatever. I didn't really care about the outfits: the fact that Morgan Freeman (an Oscar winner for Best Supporting Actor in Million Dollar Baby and the presenter at tonight's ceremony) was dressed like a black Hugh Hefner or that Jennifer Aniston was actually there, apparently presenting: what the f*ck? What I cared about was whether or not Jack Nicholson was going to be there in his patented shaded glasses (that's right, they're perscription and he actually has to wear them!)

He wasn't on the red carpet, he wasn't being interviewed, Jack was nowhere! Where's Jack at? I wanted to know! He has to be there ... there can't be any Oscars without Jack! Where the fuck is Jack? I saw Aniston, Jamie Foxx, Will Smith and whatever his wife's name is, that guy that was in Sideways, Keanu "Where's my hand at?" Reeves with Sandra Bullock, Heath Ledger and that chick from Dawson's Creek (who was apparently nominated for Best Actress, who knew?), that freak Tim Burton and even Selma "Hotness" Hayek. But where was Jack?!

One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest, Batman, As Good As It Gets, About Schmidt, Terms of Endearment, The Shining, Anger Management, A Few Good Men ... Jack's got more nominations for an Academy Award than any other male actor (according to Wikipedia) and yet I don't see him anywhere? Paparottzi should be swarming all over him! I'm starting to panick. I'll turn the damn thing off if I don't see Jack, I say!

But wait, there he is, inside the theatre sitting next to Keira Knightly and the camera goes over to him twice. He's there. The show can go on and it does. Jon Stewart comes out and makes an ass out of himself. Billy Crystal and Chris Rock are hiding out together in a tent? What the hell is this? The opening bit featurs past Oscar hosts and they all refuse to do the job again, Whoopi just flat out closes the door. Jon Stewart, like all the others before him, saves the day but instead, he bombs the joint ... and we know how well bombs go over in the States. His jokes aren't funny and the closest he comes to a laugh is a bit about Icelandic singer Björk not being there because Dick Cheney shot her while she was putting on the dress she was going to wear (Björk is remembered for wearing a dress designed to look like a dead swan a couple years back). But there was Jack, staring up at the camera and drowling over Dolly Parton's rack as she sang the song she wrote for TransAmerica, the move starring one of the chick's from Desperate Housewives about a guy who wants to be a chick but ends up going on a roadtrip with his son ... nevermind, there's Jack.

An unfortunate part of the ceremony was a presentation made by actress Lauren Bacall who, visably showing her age, shook and had a difficult time reading from the teleprompter. Stumbling through her bit, Bacall seemed frustrated and nearly gave up trying to make any sense of the words in front of her.

In an odd but somewhat ironic turn, one that definitely had me laughing and wondering, the group Three 6 Mafia took the award for Best Original Score for their song " It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp" featured in the movie Hustle & Flow. Where was my buddy Jon (not Stewart) when I needed him? They were thugs Jon, thugs! It was like watching Oscars, live from the ghetto! Jon Stewart later commented: " I think it just got a little easier out here for a pimp." Har Har Har.

I sat through the whole damn thing. Listened to speeches made by George Clooney, talking about George Clooney, the whole damn thing should have been called the Closcars. The man was featured in Stewart's opening bit, sharing a bed with the host; was the butt of several of Stewart's jokes and was later mentioned in two other acceptance speeches. It's pretty much apparent now who you have to sleep with in order to get ahead in Hollywood. Did they just forget about Jack? Bastards.

But there was salvation. Tom Hanks presented the award for Best Director and following that, introduced by a wonderful ballad from his movie Something's Gotta Give, who comes on stage? JACK! He's there in his glasses to announce the winner of Best Picture. I stayed through the whole damned thing only to be rewarded! Wait, what did he just say? Crash? CRASH WON BEST PICTURE OVER BROKEBACK MOUTAIN? How the hell did that happen? All week people have been telling me that the movie about the gay cowboys has it in the bag (no pun intended). And there's Jack, up there on the stage announcing one of the biggest upsets in Oscar history, mouthing the word "Whoa!" after he read the winner, obviously shocked himself. Whoa was right Jack. It was good to see you. Until next year my friend. CJ;

NHL Classless.

2006-03-05T00:12:00.000-05:00

I won't pretend to be an avid Hockey Night in Canada viewer. I don't know the name of a lot of the hockey players other than the ones that I hear in passing conversation, read in sports articles or see in the news. I know the names of teams and I know that at Trent, the rivalry is largely between Ottawa and Toronto. I also know that hockey players - particularly players on the Ottawa Senators - have no class.

This is going to be short and sweet and simply put: any NHL player that spits during the playing of the national anthem (either or) should be suspended from that night's game. Yes, to that extreme. To spit during the national anthem, as many players (but tonight particularly Ottawa) are shown doing is a disgrace and is disrespectful to the fact that the anthem is being played at all. These men are supposed role models for athletes and they are shown on television doing something as disgusting and unpatriotic as spitting on the ice as the anthem is played?

Kick there ass out of the game and make them visit the Governor General so she can spank them. CJ;

Welcome to Middle Earth - On Broadway!

2006-03-04T10:43:00.000-05:00

The past few years has seen the revival of interest in the classic story of The Lord of the Rings. With the trilogy of movies directed by Peter Jackson a whole new audience was introduced to the world of Middle Earth. The movies were an undeniable success and someone obviously thought that a lot of money could also be made by a stage adaptation.
When I first heard about the play I knew that I would have to see it. Having read the books at least 10 times, and no I am not ashamed to say that, I have been an avid follower of the journey of recreating Middle Earth. No I am not one of those people who dress up and are crazy fans of hobbits and elves, I just really appreciate the work of literature. That said, I happen to have a very difficult time watching a movie that has been adapted from a book. Lord of the Rings was no exception. I did not overly enjoy the movies, the first and last one were okay, they did not stray to far from the book, the second movie however, The Two Towers, was impossible for me to watch without muttering under my breath. In fact when I saw it in theater the man sitting next to me was laughing at me, I had to apologize afterwards.
So if I did not like the movies what was I going to think of a stage adaptation? I decided that I would have to go into this with a very opened mind. I knew that it was going to be extremely difficult to turn three huge novels into a 4 hour play and so I figured just go with it and see how they did.
So how did they do?
In one word: fantastic. Really exceptionally well done. Most people who would go to see the play would know the story and so any missing pieces were not detrimental to the overall effect. In fact it was a kind of narrative so the pieces that were not acted out were spoken about. This made the play much truer to the books than the movies were. Which pleased me significantly. There were a few occasions when I had to say something about something being wrong. For instance Frodo Baggins say’s a line that I know Bilbo Baggins is actually supposed to say. (Clearly I have read the book too many times to be able to pick out a specific line and say that it was delivered by the wrong character) These few instances though did not dismay me or make me think less of the play, although the woman next to me thought that they had "bit off more than they could chew." I disagree, I was unbelievably impressed, and blown away (quite literally) by the stage effects.
This was the highlight of the show. I now know why it was the most expensive stage production ever attempted, 27 million dollars was put into this, and it shows. The stage was expertly engineered specifically for the show. It had multiple spinning wheels/sections that divided and rose up into the air on multiple levels. It was used for the mountain scenes and the battle at Helms Deep. I have never seen a stage like it, it was mind boggling. The stage props however take a back seat to the costumes. The Black Riders were undoubtably the best costume I have ever seen. I thought the elephant in the Lion King was pretty neat ( I thought it was real for a split second) but these horses, they were actually terrifying. They were perfect. And the lights used to show the chase from the woods into the ford before Rivendell made them even more so, because they would flash as they turned. And because they were so big they moved slowly, and oh my it was creepy. My jaw was hanging down for that entire scene.
There are three other parts of the show that made my jaw hang down. When Gandalf is standing on the bridge blocking it from the evil Balrog (Durins Bane) the theater filled with that cherry smoke used in safe fire demonstrations and pieces of paper were being blown all around, and from the middle of the stage rose the Balrog. The wind and the smoke and the paper was everywhere and it felt as though you were going to be blown away just like Gandalf was. That closed the first act and intermission was underway. It was needed because the theater had to be cleared of the smoke. It was quite spectacular. Another scene that was equally terrifying and spectacular was the gigantic spider Shelob. I have a fear of spiders, and after seeing the other costumes I was very apprehensive of seeing this one. And rightly so. The costume was maneuvered by people underneath it, they each held one of the legs. But let me tell you I didn’t even pay attention to them. It was huge, took up half the stage, and it was disgustingly life like. It was amazing.
I would have to say that my favourite scene of the play visually wise was when Strider had to summon the dead to come fight for him. The actor stood at the front of the stage and behind him blew this black sea. That is what it looked like. I ca n only describe it as looking like garbage bag material. And it covered the entire stage and I am not sure if the stage was moving up and down or if air was being blown under it to make it move the way it did. As Strider called to the dead swords could be seen coming up through the blackness followed by people. They were literally rising from the dead. I couldn’t believe it, I was so far forward in my seat that I thought for a moment that I was going to fall out of it.
I know I may have just given away the four best moments of the production, but my descriptions do not do justice to them. Even if you are not a huge fan or do not know the story very well, you should see this show, it is so totally worth it!

~Tegan

Show me some integrity bitches!

2006-03-03T11:46:00.000-05:00

It's no secret that I am outrageously critical of Trent's student newspaper - Arthur; so much so that in the past I have turned down a position as a contributing editor.

Simply put - Arthur is bullshit: an unfortunate representation of what Trent has to offer in the way of acquiring journalistic experience.

This year especially has become an example of how aggrandizing editors publish a newspaper with themes and content that are in no way a credit to that little thing called journalistic integrity. A horror issue this week became 12 pages of wasted newsprint and student fees not to mention an unfortunate disappointment for those who actually want to read a decent student forum of debate and writing.

To say that Arthur fails to represent or even BEGIN to fulfill the needs of its readership -- not just students but the community -- would be a great understatement. How can Arthur's editors expect to be revered as a voice of the student body -- critical and journalistically responsible when, amongst a throng of news (TCSA elections, community events, etc.) they can't even be bothered to put together a newspaper with real news?

Arthur has been a failure this year and as a writer, a journalist and a member of that wonderful editor's alumni, it makes me sick. I would encourage the current editors of the Arthur to take a fundamental step backwards and reconsider the way they've tried to modernize what Arthur stands for, starting by reevaluating what the readership wants, and how it has killed readership respect for Arthur's intregrity both in the eyes of the student body and in the community.

I'd also like to say to the Arthur editors: good luck if you consider re-election. CJ;

Why Do Women Wear Makeup?

2006-03-02T15:05:00.000-05:00

Whenever I’m channel-surfing and happen to land on yet another Halle Berry beaming at me from the screen, batting her Volum’Express Turbo-boosted Fabu-lashes and touching her smooth radiant skin, I recoil a little in halfhearted disgust before sighing and looking for something else to watch. I say halfhearted disgust for a couple reasons. First off, I know the cosmetics industry isn’t out to oppress women by urging them to buy into its image of the ideal face. Clearly their main objective is to make money, so I don’t really blame them for using whatever campaign they think will do the trick. Secondly, and more importantly, I myself have bought into it for years, so to make gagging noises at the TV whenever I see a spokesmodel’s shiny lips would be ever so slightly hypocritical.

Still, I’m sick of being bombarded with hundreds of different products that will supposedly "beautify" me or even just "enhance" my features. Why do my features need to be enhanced, anyway? Maybe the natural human face is just too bland and unremarkable. But that doesn’t explain why men are exempt from society’s encouragement to slather on gobs of flesh-toned goo, redden their lips and emphasize their eyes. Yeah, of course men would look like clowns if they wore makeup, but, wait, doesn’t that mean that women do, too? Not usually, because we apply it meticulously so as to achieve a "natural" look. Lots of girls, including me, incorporate this into their morning routine. It became as automatic as brushing my teeth. But unlike oral hygiene, it’s not beneficial to the body in any way. Presumably the goal is to look like yourself, but better. What this suggests is that a woman’s face is a not-quite-finished work of art that only requires a few final touches before it will be presented to the world. This is obviously ludicrous- there is nothing missing from a person’s face. No one (well, not most people, I hope) goes around commenting things like, "She would look more complete if she had dabbed some concealer on those under-eye circles."

So what is the point, then? Why do I continue to conceal and enhance and decorate my face with overpriced drugstore brands after I’ve come to despise the idea? Unfortunately, I feel less complete when I’m not wearing makeup. I hate admitting that. I’m relatively happy with the way I look, which makes it even more infuriating that I just can’t break my addiction to concealer and eyeliner and mascara. And that’s what it is, a bad habit. I feel like I’ve forgotten something if I leave the house bare-faced. I’m probably not alone; I’m definitely not the only one who’s had enough of the plastic models selling me a "prettier" face. It would be nice to save some cash, too.

Cosmetics are so much a part of many women’s daily lives that I can’t see a large-scale boycott anytime soon. I’m sure that before I walk out my door today, I’ll have some type of chemical formula on my face. But the important thing is to think about why we have this impulse to improve when nothing is lacking, and whether it’s actually satisfying any need (other than Maybelline’s revenue).

-Laurel

Rant of the Day

2006-03-01T18:34:00.000-05:00

Dear Canada Post:
Charging someone 10$ to ship an ENVELOPE through regular mail because you want to call it a package is robbery. There's no other way around it. Highway robbery. Especially when said "parcel" literally weighs 6 ounces. Really now. The fact that I had to mail two at once only makes me more angry. Has anyone stopped to think that maybe we've become a computer society because no one can AFFORD to send good old fashioned mail anymore??

Dear Garbage Collector:
I realize that while our property taxes are SKY HIGH in this shit hole of a town (*cough* Port Hope *cough*) and pays for nothing and it still costs us 2$ A BAG to put garbage to the curb, and you are probably also underpaid because employment in this town is so tenuous that you're probably just glad to have a job...But when I drop my last little dog waste bag ON TOP of the bag that I've already paid for (at the end of my own driveway) and you remove the poo bag, take my garbage bag, pick the poo bag back up and fire it into the trash can and then proceed to THROW MY GARBAGE CAN INTO THE SNOWBANK, you really just make me want to find out where you live and leave said poo bag on your front porch, on fire. I mean really. Would it have killed you to throw what amounts to a baggie into your truck? Are you freaking kidding me??

Dear Dog Man (who feels it's appropriate to make comments about my dog):
While I realize that you've been a dog breeder for the past trillion (ok, 30) years, you breed BERNESE MOUNTAIN DOGS. Surely you know that your dog, who is a 110 lb working dog, is not the model for dogs everywhere. Having this dog does not make you an expert on every breed on the planet. So when you lean over and tell me that my dog is overweight and then make me pet your dog to 'feel all his ribs and see how fit he is', you really just make me want to kick you in the man-box. Maybe next time I see you out walking I'll pat your wife on the rump and tell her she needs to firm up and see how well that goes over, hmm?

I'll refrain from commenting on the umpteen telemarketers and random unwanted phone calls I've received in the past two days because that's just too easy. They piss everyone off.

-L.

WE GOT IT BEFORE THE ARTHUR!

2006-03-01T16:20:00.001-05:00

Breaking news ...

It has come to my attention through a source that shall remain anonymous that former Trent Central Student Association Vice-President of University Affairs Brian James has submitted a nomination form to run for the post of President of the TCSA. Speculation about James' possibly nomination has been in the air over the passed couple months and the form, submitted on Monday has confirmed the rumors.

However, James' nomination is not without controversy: his nomination form was submitted nearly 18 hours after the deadline for nominations had already come and gone; in addition, sources tell me that prior to James' nomination, there had been no other nominees for the presidential post and that James recieved a phone call from a member of the TCSA elections committee (a member who shall remain nameless) informing him that if he wanted to submit a nomination, that he would be running unopposed. The nudge that James received from the unnamed member of the elections committee is not only a breach of ethical standards but also goes against the by-laws and rules of the TCSA election process. What a tricky little thing.

James had previous resigned from his role as VP University Affairs early this year citing academic interference and amid a elections scandal that rocked the Trent international community. Since then, James has been elected to the position of Secretary on Catharine Parr Traill College Cabinet. Speculation has also stated that James may have resigned from the TCSA because of comments that he had made with regard to the TCSA being "a joke".

Hannibal the Cannibal behind the lectorn

2006-02-28T14:23:00.000-05:00

I question the qualifications of a professor who can't lecture -- who can deliver but not finish. A professor who can't lecture is like having sex without the orgasm (the guy always orgasms). It's that dull, uninviting and ungrabbing voice. The lack of intellectual orgasm. POST MODERN FRAGMENTED. What the hell is that about? Things that remain hidden and unknown. She's a white, appearingly middle-aged educator who lectures in both of my English classes. IT TAKES MORE THAN JUST BEING ABLE TO READ. A well told lie is worth a thousand facts. TROPICAL GOSSIP. RANDOM RAMBLINGS. I'd like to argue with Ondaatje (Michael) about the emotional and the personal. Damn middle-eastern Canadian. At least I think he's middle-eastern. This has been written by a thirteenth century friar. "We has Camelot with cross-dressing knights." One of her favorite passages is on page 128 and 129 of the New Canadian Library text. Instead of an accurate newspaper account, I have to listen to this woman lecture in her earth tone, fake suade FRAGMENTED suit -- BROWN, like her hair. Performing the unexpected. Allowing myself to be carried along. MORE LITERARY REFERENCES. I hate literary terminology. "Myth making" she says proudly. What a woman. Myth making! Eclipse boomage? Something like that. Description can be found on page 92 of the New Can ... This is the way that memory invades the minds of the old. When I am old, I will remember this woman in her ugly brown suit telling me about what I hate. She has pervaded my emotions. BITCH. Drawing my attention to different languages and some funny alphabets. This all resembles the shape of the mother's spine -- texture and depth off the page. The beauty of despairity. We must not urinate again on Father Barnaby's tires. Graffiti. CJ;

Three Weeks Single

2006-02-28T14:11:00.000-05:00

I eye the bathroom light fixture dubiously. A friend assures me that I can change it myself, no problems. Simple renovation. I am not nearly so confident. Bathrooms…electricity… knowing that if anything happened there is no one in this small town that would know to stop in…the idea of becoming that dead body that no one finds for two weeks while the starving pets eat the corpse is enough to deter me from tackling the vanity light myself. Painting though, painting I can handle. What is it that compels women to redecorate as soon as their partners leave the house?

So I’m not really single. But two and a half years into a happy marriage and I find myself with the house to myself for three weeks while my partner takes a crack at some extended schooling across the country. Three weeks apart! Practically an eternity, when you’re used to being a self-contained duo in a small town where you only know each other. How will I sleep? What will I do with myself? Who will I talk to? My grandma gasps, “you’ve been widowed!”

Well, I don’t know about that. Widowed?? I was thinking…vacation.

One week in, and that’s what it’s been, albeit a working vacation. I throw an elaborate girls-only dinner party and two of the ladies bring me flowers “because I wouldn’t be getting any otherwise.” Are you kidding? I add it to the bunch that I’ve already bought myself (self-indulgent purchase #1) while laughing inwardly- this is the most flowers I’ve received in years! We eat too much and laugh and drink and enjoy the absence of testosterone. Do it all over again two days later because the only schedule I have to keep is my own.

I rent the movies I want, without compromise, indulging in chick flicks. The first round of movies are squishy-mushy: In Her Shoes/Elizabethtown/Girl with a Pearl Earring. By the second round I've moved onto the ass-kicking chicks: North Country and Domino. There will be no Doom/Saw II/The Exorcism of Emily Rose passing through these doors for the next three weeks, oh no (have I mentioned that Doom is the worst movie on the planet? Trust me, it is). I play a new CD (self-indulgent purchase #2) as loud as I want, whenever I want. I let the dog run all over the inside of the car, leaving clumps of fur stuck to the interior, my partner’s largest pet peeve, bar none. The cat becomes my sleeping companion, a definite no when he-who-has-allergies is home. Grocery shopping is a snap when you only have your own whims to consider. Dark chocolate ice cream topping? (self-indulgence #3) Check. Cheesecake? Check. Ok, and a little fruit, just to balance things out. What more does a girl need??

The TV has hardly been on all week (I didn’t own one when I was really single) and the playstation is gathering dust. The thermostat is cranked up and it’s only my clothes that are strewn all over the bedroom. No one snags my towel out of the bathroom. I chat and email at length with my sister/mother/aunt/grandmother and female friends, the people you never have enough time for during the average week. I go to bed as late as I want and read, a pastime that falls by the wayside when there’s someone to talk to instead. Sex might be solo, but who cares when it’s selfishly delicious? And only the cat witnesses that chocolate I ate for breakfast. Hrm. Was being single this enjoyable before?

To be con’t…I’m off to paint.

-L.

Welcoming Len

2006-02-28T14:09:00.000-05:00

A fourth has been added to our three-ring circus. Len is an old pro at working with me in the journalism world, having been my "right hand" as they say back in the days of The Independent Isabel magazine (a short lived but all be it fun alternative to the student rags distributed at Trent University). Although Linnea may not contribute on a regular basis, her presence at The Tailor Made Journalist will no doubt enhance the point of view and integrity of this new endeavour.

CJ;

Canadian General Ready to take the Head Honcho of Tim Horton's to Afghanistan

2006-02-27T23:13:00.000-05:00

The Canadian Press in Ottawa is reporting that Canada's top military leader is prepared to personally escort the head of the Tim Horton's chain to Afghanistan if it will help to take the chain over seas and found a Tim Horton's in the Middle East.

General Rick Hillier says his soldiers are constantly asking him when they might see one of those iconic Canadian coffee shops open "over there." The soldier's fondess for the chain, its coffee and pastries is apparently "legendary", as CP reports, " American troops in Afghanistan have access to fast food from Pizza Hut and Burger King, but the Canadians can't get fresh Timbits." Hillier says it would be a big morale-booster to have a coffee shop in Kandahar.

"I invite the CEO of Tim Hortons to come with me to Afghanistan and see the powerful implications that would come from that," the General said.

Tim Hortons said in a statement that it's working with the Forces on having its products available in Afghanistan, "We are excited about the possibility, and have a great relationship with the Forces," the statement said and CP reported, " "We understand how our service personnel feel about their Tim's and we, with the Canadian Forces, are seeing what we can do to bring a little taste of home to those serving overseas."

Just thought I'd share that with everybody out there. Thanks. CJ;

2006-02-27T16:00:00.000-05:00

Ok so first things first. I love cars, I love the way they look, sound, feel, drive. Everything and anything about them. So when I got the chance to go to the international Auto Show over Reading week, you know I went. This is my review/article whatever you want to call it on all the lovely cars that I saw!

The Toronto International Auto Show is second only to Detroit in being the largest show in North America. It occupies three buildings completely, both the North and South Convention centres and the newly renamed skydome a.k.a. Rogers Centre. Over the course of the show it will be visited by thousands of car fanatics and possible buyers. Even those who know nothing about cars would want to check this show out.
The Ford display is the first one upon entering and if the sheet of water surrounding the Fusion doesn’t catch your attention the Ford GT cut in half and placed on plexi glass enabling you to view the inner workings and design certainly will. There is the added bonus of getting your picture taken with Wayne Gretsky’s GT! Ford has announced the discontinuation of the Ford GT so it was one of the last opportunities to view this car. The reintroduction of the Shelby GT 500 and the Cobra was much anticipated and did not disappoint.

Nissan’s line up was quite impressive as well. Personally the 350Z coupe was my favourite. But at 53 thousand it is a little out of my price range. Most of the vehicles at the show actually are out of my price range. The cheapest car I found belonged to the Kia family and was 13 000.

For the most part people go to the auto show to see the big names, Mercedes Benz, Ferrari, Aston Martin, Porsche and Jaguar. These brands brought out the best of the best. Mercedes had the new SLR, and let me tell you that is one fine looking car. Aston Martin brought out its newest car, the Vantage, which can be heard coming over two and a half miles away without seeing it. (The engine is that powerful!) Jaguar’s XK is styled very alike to that of Aston Martin’s DB9. Which is to be expected seeing as both lines are now owned by Ford. The biggest monstrosity at the show was the new Rolls Royce. It is gaudy and oversized, a big square machine. If Rolls wanted to impress they should have gone back to the styling’s of the early sixties, those were beautiful cars.

Possibly the most fascinating car at the show was the Mazda concept car. The doors do not open traditionally, they slide like a mini van! The Toronto Show was the world premier of this car and it was welcomed with applause and interest. I am looking forward to seeing out on the market within the next couple of years.
A virtually unknown event at the show is the Toyota Test drive of the latest trucks and cars. You could take the new Tundra out on a closed off road 1/4 mile track. The best way to know if you want to buy a car is to drive it, and even if you don’t want to buy the truck, it sure is fun to drive the hell out of a new vehicle!

This was my first time at the Auto Show and it is most defiantly worth the trip. At the end of the day if I had unlimited funds the cars (yes cars plural) that I would buy (starting from cheapest to most expensive) would be: The new Mini, it is a fun fast stylish car that is sure to please anyone who owns it. The Shelby GT 500, because it is the coolest car ever! The Nissan 350Z, just because it is a good car, with speed, class and style. The Jaguar XK, there are no words to describe the beauty of this car (really, my god its awsome). Finally the Aston Martin DB9, what more can I say? The name speaks volumes of reasons as to why this is at the top of my list.

If you missed the show this year, try to get out next year, it’s a good way to spend a day!

~Tegan

In the Interest of Self-Promotion

2006-02-25T12:41:00.000-05:00

In designing this new blog, choosing a name was the most daunting of tasks and it's a task that isn't over yet. The Tailor Made Journalist is a transitional name. It's something that sounds smart and at the same time is pretencious and patronizing. Exactly what a blog/magazine name should be. Of course, as I mentioned, it's a transitional name not yet approved by my colleagues-in-crime who still happen to be away on their Reading Week vacations.

In my first attempt at blog writing - Netting Everything - the idea was that I would meeting 200 new people by January 2007. That idea didn't work. There was no honesty behind it and it was generally just all about doing a blog without substance. It was a concept that was never fully developed. Never thought through and nor was there any room for expansion. The format was straightforward and when I'd write articles on the blog that weren't about interviews, I'd have messages left on my MSN: "Read your blog today ... that wasn't an interview ... I thought you were just going to do interviews?", "Do you know what an interview looks like?" and so on.

Really the concept for this blog is for it to be part of something much larger. It's a stepping stone to creating a massive muli-million dollar publishing empire that will eventually overshadow the likes of Playboy and Conde Nast. That's the idea anyway. The big fat idea. And here I am, once again, in the Editor's seat. The place I love.

Working with me are Laurel Karlsen and Tegan Sloley, who are, as I said, still on their Reading Break vacations.

Tegan is an aspiring writer majoring in English; she is keen and intuitive with interests in the literary realm.

Likewise, Laurel is also an English major with a strong interest in creative writing.

The three of us together are forming the foundation for the temporarily named The Tailor Made Journalist. The three of us have agreed that we'll have something new posted within a cycle of every three days -- how's that for commitment? Randomness abounds and restrictions have been lifted.

Just as before with Netting Everything, we encourage our readers to leave comments - anonymous or otherwise - in response to our articles and views.

Stay tuned. (Temporarily named) The Tailor Made Journalist is online.

Cheers,