KID LIT

(Photo found on internet when I researched Photo Realists. It did not state the name of the artist. I suspect that it may be ESTES, as it looks like his style, but I am not certain).
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Can you remember what you liked to read when you were a kid? I thought of that because I needed to satisfy my curiosity about something. I doubt there's anybody out there who hasn't been exposed to the book "Go Ask Alice." It's listed as being written by "Annonymous." There were things about that book that always bothered me. The main thing was that our heroine ended up in the psychiatric hospital when she was babysitting and drank a soda laced with drugs which had been intentionally planted there for her to consume. At least, that was her story. That's the sort of junk cops hear people like, say...hmmm...Paris Hilton state (honest, the drugs weren't mine). I could never accept that somebody would leave a half drank bottle with drugs in it, with the knowledge that at some point in the future, Alice might babysit at that home again and would drink the bottle. Most homeowners are not that cheap. They're going to toss out a flat, partially consumed bottle of pop.
So, I did some research and found that this book was "edited" by Beatrice Sparks. She's a Mormon counsellor who's claimed to be behind many "found diaries" of patients. When pressed, she stated that this book was partially based on a real diary, part fiction and the rest was a compilation of the files of various patients. I hunted out my old copy of the book and saw the incription that it was not based upon real people; that it was a work of fiction.
I doubt that there's anybody out there who hasn't had to sit through watching this film played in Guidance Class. It's funny, but if you watch it now, the fashions have come full circle, and some of that stuff from the early '70's is now in style again. The bad thing about the film version of this movie, is that the thin, cool kids were the ones doing drugs. Oops. By the way, William Shatner (Star Trek), stars as the Dad in the film. He sports a very happening leisure suit.
Every so often, this book will appear on a list of "banned" books in school districts. There have been parents who have been upset at some of the sexual material in it. I think it's a ridiculous book to ban, as there's probably a lot of kids who haven't tried drugs because of reading it.
This started me on my trip down memory lane. When I was very young, I got into "Anne of Green Gables." I loved her independant spirit and the fact that she wanted to write at a time when most women didn't do anything except have babies and die in childbirth. I read every single book that Lucy Maud Montgomery put out. I also read "Little Women", which is a bit of a cliche. I think every girl who every contemplates writing cites Jo Marsh as somebody they emulated.
However, I read well beyond my years. My God-Mother and Great Aunt was close friends with a woman who had been on the Titanic, and who I met when I was a little girl. This woman had celebrated her 18th birthday on the ship and hadn't wanted to get into the life-boat. That set me off reading books on the sinking of that doomed liner. I also enjoyed books on people with mental problems (The Bell Jar).
In elementary school, girls discovered Judy Blume and the favorite was "Are You There God, it's Me Margaret." I guess everybody learned some facts of life from that book. It was passed around and pages were folded down so that people could find the good parts.
I was in grade nine when I read "The Butterfly Revolution" by William Butler. I then proceeded to read it over and over again. It was about a bookish boy, forced to go to camp. They end up taking over the camp and placing the adults in the brig as part of a revolutionary take-over. It was quite the sophisticated comment on totalitarian society. When I was in senior high, I combined my reading of this book with "The Lord of the Flies" and "The Chocolate War" by Robert Cormier to write a 25 page single paged essay on good vs. evil in society; how we start off in the idyllic Eden and then it is man's nature to seek anarchy and destruction. Yes, it was an advanced English class. Still, I pity that poor teacher.
It's odd how certain books really stand out all these years later. I think it says something about who we are and who we were when a specific thing really speaks to us. That's why it's always nice to remember and to look back to see if we've really changed all that much after all.

STICK YOUR SHOTS

`````This is the time of year that parents start getting their kids ready to return to school. They're usually provided with a list of items that they need. For health reasons, children are mandated to have their shots, and there's an obvious need and reason that we want to innoculate them against things like polio and German Measles. These are vaccines with a proven track record. Unless people get these shots, it can undermine the greater good and well being of society as a whole due to the highly contagious and dangerous nature of these illnessess.

`````What I am shocked by, is that for many grade school girls now, along with other school supplies, they are being told to get HPV shots. HPV is an abbreviation of a big word that means genital warts. There isn't just one kind of wart out there...there's several strains. The vaccine which they are trying to force people to take hopes to target the specific variety which causes cervical cancer.

`````I've read different statistics for the United States, but it seems that 70% of cervical cancer is caused by the wart infestation. About 10,000 women are diagnosed with it per year and 4,000 will die. In Canada, about 1350 women are diagnosed and 400 will die. The death rates are much higher in developing nations. This is the most costly vaccine ever, at over $300 per dose.

`````I think it's great if it's voluntary, but don't force something into anybody's body; especially if it's a nine or ten year old, which happens to be the age they want to start this program. It's not fair that the only way to opt out is to attend a religious school, either. First of all, not everybody can afford this option. Second, such schools are not available in all places. Third, a person might not be happy with the quality of education provided by a specific academy. Finally, I should be able to refuse on moral principles not related to religion at all.

`````I was not raised with any stated, organized religion after a certain age. As a child I attended some religious classes in Swedish; I recall receiving little cards with photos on them and sitting in the room of a church. After we moved to Canada, there was nothing. Yet, I was forever beating myself up over doing the right thing. Everything would become an ethical debate within my brain. To say that only those tied to organized denominations have a right to opt out is discriminatory.

`````They only want to force this innoculation upon girls, even though boys carry the HPV virus as well, and it's been proven that they too would benefit from the shot. So, if a parent says "no" to the vaccine in some places, it's only the girls who will be denied a proper education. How very Dark Ages.

`````This is not a disease, like polio, which endangers the public at large. What an insult to presume that a girl will have sex. Some, by the way, may be gay. To think that we all lack the self control to say "no", and that we might actually have interests beyond being boy crazy, seems a shocking concept to these people.

`````By the way, abstinence, in this case, may not be the right word to use or promote. So many people use that term to describe "everything but..." In the case of HPV, it's risky, as it can be spread by mere hand or skin contact, and thus in some age groups, 50% of the people may be infected at some point. The operative word is actually "chaste." There is a difference.

`````Young women are not total idiots. Give them the shot if they want it, along with proper information. Do not force it upon them. Give it to them when they are ready and old enough to decide what they want to put into their own body. I recall being that age and I detested being treated like an idiot. When I was tested in grade eight, my research and reading skills scored at the university level. If I had wanted to become sexually active and get the shot, I would have known where to find it. As it was, it wasn't a choice I opted to make.

`````Obviously, this shot doesn't begin to prevent herpes, which can be devastating and lifelong. In some places and age groups, the figures are 1 out of 5 victims. It cannot prevent the spread of Hepatitis C, which may destroy your liver and kill you. That disease requires the consumption of a vast array of pills every single day. Before you know you have it, you may have spread it to others. Of course, there's pregnancy. We need something more then this shot to solve the problem out there, be it better education, parenting or having girls understand the full consequences of the choices they make.

`````Maybe they should take that $300 per shot and invest it instead in improving the schools. Imagine if girls grasped the concept that the way to help their lives was to open your books and not your legs. There's something wrong when they equate self-esteen with having a boyfriend. Perhaps they could hire school guidance counsellors who were actually approachable and knew their jobs; ones that the kids didn't see as flakes who wouldn't keep a secret. Then, should they want the shot, they could talk to them. They could use that money to work on the prevelence of school bullying and violence. There's places that have drastically cut their arts programs. Well, here's some money to fix it. Self-esteem develops when you can do something well. It gives you the voice to say "no." Part of that is saying "no" to physical contact but also to somebody sticking a needle into the arm of a nine year old against her will. If you don't stand up and say that it isn't right, you're telling her that next time, coercsion is okay if it comes from a person in authority. It takes away her power. It's hardly a lesson we want to teach, is it?

`````One last comment is that, how much of a double standard is it that the government can mandate this to little girls, yet adults, who have abused kids or have decided to have one baby after another born with fetal alcohol syndrome or addicted to drugs, can continue to get pregnant with impunity? The courts could never order them to be sterilized? It's so typical of how wrong it all is. Or is it because that's where the easy money is? There's been a lot of lobbying going on and $300 per child if it's made mandatory will fill the coffers of a company that just got sued over their arthritis drug that was pulled off the market.

NEAR HERE

This is from the film "Cousins." At about 01:55, where they begin to ride the bike, is an area not that far from here. That's basically the landscape in the area.

MYSTERY BALL

......My friend's a photographer and I had him look at this. He cannot figure it out. It's not a reflection off the floor, as it's above the floor. There's nothing there for it to reflect off of. It's not the lens, as it's a different design and it's on the wrong part of the camera. He went through every possible thing.

.....This was in the middle of a series. My friend used to put on his track pants, thick gloves and come over to play rough with my cat. As I said, I shot an entire series of these photos. I didn't notice this until I was going through them after my friend died to develop them to give them to his wife. I saw the one photo, with the glowing orb in it. These were the last photos I had taken.

.....I actually developed the blowup of the circle for myself, just to satisfy my curiosity. It's still there; it was't merely a digital anomoly. One hears these stories on "Coast to Coast." People put their own beliefs onto it. I only know that I miss this person dearly.

SATURDAY NIGHT IN THE BLEAK HOUSE

`````It just keeps getting harder to show up, somehow. At least the black feral was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill. She was nervous and kept looking to her left. I saw the racoons in the garbage can, so when I left the food I stood for a second so that she could eat in peace before I moved on. There are generations of these little black cats with white dots on their chests.

`````Then I was told of a new stray, badly injured, who'd been coaxed into somebody's window. Peroxide had been applied and she ate a can of food before she left. "She'll be back," I said. All my dealings have to do with cats, as I know they call me the "Cat Lady."

`````The rest of my night was spent in a red light district; but that which was cast by an exit sign. It was pitch black expect for that. I prefer that to the flicker of the flurescent light with the fan beneath it. After years of working the night shift I see well in the dark.

`````Of course, I find my mind wandering. There has to be more to life. I keep thinking of poems read such as "A Map of Verona" and lines come to me:

...

"Yet you are there, and one day I shall go,

The train will bring me perhaps in utter darkness

And drop me where you are blooming, unaware."

`````But, then it is time again, and I have to quit thinking about Verona Italy, and go do my thing and I realize that this is so depressing. It's Saturday night and I've just wasted one more summer.

THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED DAY IN HISTORY

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Here is New York: A Democracy of Photographs
Conceived and organized by:
Alice George,
Gilles Peress
Michael Shulan
Charles Traub


This would definitely be what one would call a coffee table book. It's huge; I think that for shipping purposes it comes in at something like eight pounds. It has its cardboard sleeve. The only problem is, that term somewhat denotes a book which one flips through or enjoys as one lounges about on the chaise, specialty coffee at hand. Yes...this is one highly appreciable book, but it is moving.
This book came to be because immediately after the event on September 11, 2001, Michael Shulan decided to hang a photo in his shop. Then he hung some more and others added theirs. These were ordinary people; people off the street and those directly involved in the tragedy. After time, the decision was made to select the best works and publish them in a book format.
Every possible genre is covered in this book. There are pictures of the towers before they fell; as they strutted their stuff into the blue. Some photos are of the site, as it lies in ruin and rescue personnel search desperately for any sign of life. Some are so iconic now...the dust cloud, the grey faces, the posters of the missing. One of the images that really touched me is of a woman's limb. I think she had been wearing a pair of boots and what's left of her indicates that she must have had beautiful, dancer's legs. There is nothing else of her around. In yet another, a woman stands in the gaping hole where the plane entered, looking out.
When you look at these photographs, it reminds us what that day is about. People may have their own opinions about what took the towers down. But that day itself needs to be about grief and remembrance and respect for the dead. Good art helps us understand that.

SURVIVOR SHIVERS

`````A word on the Survivor TV series here. I cancelled my cable as I was fed up with reality television. Why is every one of these shows set in a tropical locale? That's actually a rhetorical question as the answer is obvious. There's a lot of beautiful places on this planet where this show could base itself. Not all of them exist between the Tropic of Cancer and Capricorn.

`````If they really want to have these people do anything remotely challenging or approaching true problem solving, how about sticking them in a colder climate for once? Let's see them actually work at building shelter, gathering wood for fire and staying warm? I'll tell you why it won't happen. It's not sexy to watch somebody who's bundled up like Nanook of the North. None of these contestents, or very few at least, look like real people. Somehow they all want to find their niche in "the industry." They're models or gym rats. Between the peroxide, botox and silicone, they are a hazardous waste site all unto themselves. It's a place where the vapid, vicious girls of high school have formed a team with the muscled and mental jocks. It's my version of Sartre's "No Exit." The hellish nightmare from which I cannot awaken.

`````The Survivor of the North would not work because most of these people don't have the smarts to rub two sticks together. When we put them in a bikini and call running over a log in a lagoon a challenge, it may distract the viewer in the same way a crow is distracted by a shiny object. It really isn't all that hard, though. Now, trucking in snow or taking them to the top of a mountain and having them build an igloo so that they wouldn't freeze as a challenge is hard (cue evil laughter at this point). The viewer puts up with alot more whining when it's done by hot looking, half naked people. Not so when it's a person in a parka with soot on their face. They all look 300 pounds in Northface Gear and whining becomes, well...just like one's home life and not so endearing. Viewers would disappear like flies under the ultraviolet zapper.

`````Oh yes, the flies. Horse flies, black flies, deer flies, mosquitoes, hornets and wasps. I'm glad that I didn't forget about them. It's not always cold in the northern climes. It can get darn nice in the day time, and one of the women might get it into her head to use that as an excuse to strip down. After all, doesn't everybody gather wood in their bra and panties? There would probably be some ensuing scandal because they'd be trying to bribe one of the tech or crew guys; sexual favours for a can of DEET spray. I digress, but why do the boom and camera guys always have to have cutsie nicknames (Mike "the terror" Peterson). Read the credits sometimes and you'll see what I mean.

`````Seriously, as a Girl Guide, we had to carry heavy white canvas tents, ground sheets and rope with which to lash sticks in order to hold up that darned canvas. We had to dig trenches around the tent, which slept several people. If little girls could do it, I would think Mr Musclehead and adult women could do it, plastic implants or not. I do forsee a broken acrylic nail or two, especially if they have the fake dingle-ball attachments (as I call all the bells and whistles some women stick onto their nails). Come on Survivor, give it a shot.

THANKS TO THAT STUPID COMPUTER COMPANY, I CANNOT ORDER BOOKS

A while back I had ordered a bunch of books from Amazon.com and they didn't show. I'd never had a problem with them before and I love their service, so I looked and there was no record of my order. I tried again. The same thing happened. The book store in my town carries row upon row of "Chickensoup for the Soul" tomes. I kid you not. Nothing too exciting and their biography section is limited to items about the monarchy and movie stars. I did try to order something there once and it was mass confusion with my one book, so I told them to just forget it. They didn't even know the author. I forget who it was, but it was somebody that anybody who works in a bookstore should know.
I was really looking forward to receiving these works and I suspect that I know what's going on. I think it's because I cannot get into my e-mail. I will start to download, and I will get bumped off. I've blogged ad-nauseum about my computer issues. For the uninitiated it somehow thinks my camera is now a scanner and I have to use my friend's MAC to put photos on-line. The other day I was checking out a site and it kept bumping me off while I was on it---telling me that Windows Explorer could not open that site and that it was aborting the operation. Well, I could see the site in the background, but the little display box kept insisting that I had to click on it. It then knocked me off. Idiots. The product is a lemon and it sucks.
So, Amazon, those people are not letting me spend hundreds of dollars at your site. This economy needs it. I'm jonesing for books. See, even my cat needs books(evidenced by the photo). I want to blog about those books. There's money in my VISA account. Just because those geeks in Seattle cannot get their product to work, please, please ship my goods to me. Can't you phone me to confirm my order?

A MEMBER OF THE WEDDING

When my friend got married, I was a member of the wedding party. That's happened a couple of times, but this time it was different. You know how they always tell you that this time you can reuse the dress? Well, I couldn't; this time it was a rental. This time, it wasn't a dress either. Finally, this time, I was the best man.

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I had known my friend for years. We had become close at work, where we ended up on the same rotation. It turns out that we had an odd connection and our paths had crossed before. We were both into the music scene and we'd been to the same parties, gone to the same clubs, known the same people. So, when it was time for him to get married, he asked me to stand beside him.

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It was hilarious when it came time to rent the tux. We went to a bridal boutique in a town which is very religious. Until a couple of years ago, they'd had a bylaw forbidding stripping. Somebody had to take it to court in order to allow it under the Charter of Rights. There are still some names which appear over and over in the telephone book. There are two families who are forever marrying each other. But, I digress yet again.

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As we entered the bridal boutique, a smiling woman swooped down upon us from somewhere amidst a wall of chiffon and lace. Despite what they say about the world of brides maids's dresses having changed, it still consists of the ugly and the heidious. It's Easter Bunny colours galore and made to torture. The dresses are either sleeveless for those whose upper arms look like they could flap away, or they have poufed arms that only Little Bow Peep could love. I have a conspiracy theory that they're ugly on purpose so that the bride shines.

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The sales woman smiled at me, that phony polished look they have. She had obviously watched her fair share of beauty pageants. I could tell that she took me for the future little Mrs. She began to herd me towards the section of the store with the white ensembles.

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"No," I informed her. "I'm the best man. I'm here with the groom and we're both looking to rent a tux." It really took a while for her brain to process this information. I watched as the knowledge finally settled into her cerebral cortex. It turned out that they had nothing that small in the store, so something would have to be ordered in for me. She got a tape measurer out and started writing down figures. Alas, it sucks to be short.

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About a month later, the tux was in and I had to go try it on. When I walked into the store, it suddenly got silent and the sales women leaned into each other. As I exited the dressing room, I could see people throughout the store watching me.

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Her family hadn't placed the wedding announcement in the paper, so I took it upon myself to do it. I guess there was some talk in the town about that one. Not only did I, his female "best man" place the announcement, but I stated that his cat very much approved of his choice. Well, he did. She's a great person and he's a very picky cat.

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The stag was interesting. I really didn't want to intrude on guy's night out, so I said that I'd drive all of the rest of them, so that everybody could drink, and then I'd find a way to entertain myself. They insisted that I come along. I went out for dinner with them, but felt they'd be more comfortable getting lap dances if I wasn't there. I then met up with them at a comedy club. Me and a bunch of guys out on a stag. You can just imagine the fodder for the comedian.

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I think it's crap when they say that men and women cannot be friends. The two of us have gone on vacation together even after my buddy got married and everything is above board. I know that people gossip about it, but his wife doesn't care. She knows me and our attitude is "if small towns has to equate with small minds", that isn't our problem. In today's world, when women enter nontraditional jobs, we're bound to form bonds with males. People need to get used to that concept.

ONE OF MY FAVORITE PLAYS

Somebody had posted this and I thought I'd share it. I have this on video. It's one of my favourite plays. There are certain scenes in plays or movies that never fail to "get" to me, just like specific verses in books or poems (for example, the last bit in "The Great Gatsby"). I've seen this performed live a couple of times, and this part never fails to touch me. It speaks of guilt that we cannot escape. We may try to put distance between a person we've wronged, but it doesn't go away. The "Blow out your candles, Laura", followed by the tears, is such superb acting on his part. His sister Laura, in life, had been a fragile, glass-like individual (she collected figurines, and thus the title of the play), yet her memory haunts him. For anybody who likes the theatre and hasn't seen this one, I'd really recommend it.

AND NOW THIS...

`````The above, Wendy Lewis, can hardly be defined as an English rose or the paragon of womanhood. Indeed, anybody doing the "perp walk", unless it's somebody like Gandhi and it's being undertaken for moral grounds, is going to find it difficult to take the high road. Everyonce in a while, though, you come across a story that makes you ask yourself "What is the world coming to?" You hope it's a sign of justifiable moral indignation and not just old age creeping in.

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`````Our leading lady decided that it would be a good idea one night (actually, it was about 0500, so it was at the tail end of a very long night), to relieve herself at a cenotaph . A lady as refined as herself always does her toilette before she performs a sex act upon a random stranger in public. Now, at this time of year, it is fairly light, so this act was witnessed by others as well as a CCTV camera (the urination and the act which made Paris Hilton famous). It was made upon the names of men who had died during both World Wars. Members of the public rightfully took umbrage and complained to the police.

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`````When she appeared in court, a group of vetrans appeared to greet her with what they called a "Wall of Dishonour." She told them to "F Off." She then disappeared, and had to be arrested, when she attacked a police woman. She somehow managed to avoid jail in all of this. Knowing how to play the system, she blames the crime on drink and heroin usage. In reading this story, I couldn't help but notice that she has two kids. Since her age was listed as 32, these kids cannot be all that old. In every article on her it mentions her smoking and drug usage. It stated that she didn't work. She was out until 0500 in the morning. She doesn't have the good sense to show up in court wearing proper attire. What the courts should have done is slapped her butt in a classroom which taught proper breeding. She should have learned how one dresses and what the people in the two wars sacrificed so that she could sit on her butt and not work. Until she understands the magnitude of that sacrifice, she'll never know why her crime was so bad. Some people will forever be selfish and entitled and feel no need to give anything back to society. For the sake of her own kids she needs to learn how to speak and dress properly so that they don't grow up thinking that it's okay to conduct oneself in such a manner. Perhaps she should have to look at the photos of the young men who died and hear the stories of those who served with them. Then they would be real to her. I doubt she's a sociopath; just an idiot.

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`````In the meantime, you just hope she doesn't have anymore kids. You just know this isn't going to end well for them.

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`````Incidentally, I am beyond sick of people using the lack of funds for their conduct. My parents had nothing when they came here and my father worked hard in a horrid job. My toys were second hand as were many of my clothes. My mother sewed a lot of my items. However, everything was clean and looked after. People need to give that excuse a rest.

FINALLY, A WARRANT

Calgary, Regina arrest warrants issued in assault case of Dustin Lafortune - Winnipeg Free Press

This is such a disturbing story and it's great that a warrant has finally been issued. This poor guy was found in the hospital, weighing less then 90 pounds. He had once been 245 pounds. His family had tried to file a missing person's report on him, but in something which sounds all too familiar now, they were given a hard time in doing so. As it turns out, he was being confined by his roommate. We don't really know why, as when he was discovered in the hospital, in another city, he had a brain injury. He also had part of his tongue cut off as well has his lips. It was only via the actions of his family that his story got out there at all. They posted the gruesome photos on Facebook, where they were desperate in seeking information as to who could have done this. They had a pretty good idea, so they launched their own invesitation. The thing that really bothers me is that the person who lived near this man and the roomate heard "disturbing sounds", yet did nothing. How often does that happen with abused women? The Facebook page was open to all of the public; one did not need to be a friend. Dustin Lafortune has gained some weight, but has a very long way to go. I guess it's meant a lot to the family that they've gotten so much support.

The Lemon Report

Enough! I am not on WAN miniport, yet that's what it wants to connect to. I can never get onto my e-mail. Microsoft sucks so bad. I just tried to make a comment, and as soon as I'd typed my stuff in, up came some comment about navigating away from this site and then I got bumped off the server. The last time those idiots at Microsoft sent me updates it almost ruined my computer and then they actually had the nerve to even admit that the problems on my computer (when I finally got it going again, no thanks to them), were caused by the last program installed, which was faulty----and just happened to be theirs. I've now blocked all updates, which causes them to go insane and send my computer into flashing red fits.

A LINK TO INFORMATION ON THE PICKTON CRIME

CBC News - British Columbia - Pickton investigation to be reviewed by B.C.

If you click on the side, where you see PDF Document, a very long written report will come up. Although it was written by an officer, it is very critical of how this investigation was handled. I have done a quick look at it, but plan on reading the entire thing. The police had not planned on releasing this until later, but one of the local papers released snippets of it. This forced their hand.

Follow-up on Prop 8

I want to update on a previous blog; Prop 8 is back in the news again. The Family Value Fascists are trying to shove people back into the closet to join the bad toupees and John Deere ballcaps they have collected there. I am beyond sick of reading their insipid and ridiculous comments. The one which disgusts me the most is that "they just want to flaunt their lifestyle." No; what they want is equality under the law. If you plan to make a career in the military and you're good at it, you shouldn't be kicked out if somebody discovers that you'd rather sleep with G.I. Joe then make boom boom with a woman back in the village. "Don't ask don't tell" is ridiculous and is a ruling without balls. Perhaps the wrong Clinton was in the White House when this one came down. The courts had some gumption decades earlier. What has happened to them? Are they so fearful to what will happen to the elections in the future that they won't make a decision with any teeth? "Seperate is not equal." The courts knew it when they saw it was based on skin colour.

Until they rule fairly on this, a couple can be together for years, but not be granted the ability to decide whether a person on life support can terminate their life or not, even if it was something they'd discussed. They have no rights to pension or spousal benefits. However, a common-law heterosexual couple may, even if they're cheating on each other. There is no justice.

So many people don't care because they aren't affected by this. I'm beginning to realize to some degree what it's like to have that stamp of difference placed upon you. A few years back I was recognized by the official person in government as accommodated/disabled on the basis of chronic pain. It was caused by shift work and now I have severe and steady migraines and am stuck for all eternity on night shifts (even on my days off). I still want to work and don't want to rely on pain medication, so it's hard. I ask for no special treatment except to work graveyards. The chronic pain has been bad enough and so has been losing touch with friends and family. The worst, though, is the suspicion. As I'm never out in the light, I don't know my neighbours. I am constantly having to defend myself to the myriad of bureaucracy. Seperate is not equal. Seperate is just alienated and feeling inadequate. Seperate is why my work partner is dead.

I've read that gay youth have a higher rate of suicide then normal. I absolutely understand that now. When a group of people is constantly feeling the need to explain their actions, over which they have no control and of which there is nothing wrong, you're only going to frustrate them and drive them into depression. After all, there's nothing they can do. It's crazy making. So, they just start to hate themselves.

I've realized something, by the way, since I've been labelled and treated like a gimp. That's how inherently insulting some questions actually are, as I can now see the meaning behind them. When they ask me why I'm not married, what they're really fishing at is my orientation. These people would never pose this very same queston to a person who is married, would they? In fact, they'd probably risk getting hit were they to go around and do so on a regular basis. I once would be polite and answer that I had chronic pain that would cause me to vomit three days in a row; that I literally couldn't move when I was like that and was relegated to bed with a bucket. I could never expect another person to live like that, especially since I was now totally nocturnal. Since I now know that the only reason they ask is to see who I'd rather sleep with, I don't answer. Let them brood about it. It's not an issue to me, so I don't feel the need to defend myself. However, I now get an inclination of what some people must go through on a daily basis. I can see why they would start to avoid family weddings and get togethers.

Getting rid of nonsense like Prop 8 is only a miniscule step, but it's a start. It tells people that this isn't a legitimate excuse to hate. You'll still have the idiot at home in the wife-beater undershirt preaching his bull. But, after the courts stepped in and ruled that it wasn't okay to discriminate on the basis of colour, it took decades but we did manage to get a black man into the highest office in the world. Attitudes can be changed. Maybe we can do the same here and cut down the high rate of suicide amongst gay youth.

BIT

I went over to feed my friend's cat this morning. I had reported what I was doing at work last night, and one of my coworkers had met the monster at poker night. There was an inhallation of breath and a comment made, which I won't repeat in polite company. So, there I was...having worked a night shift. I was bent over and feeding him when he lunged. He knew I was vulnerable. At least there's a lot of folds in my work pants, so he mostly gripped material. However, he still bruised me. As with a German Sheppard attack dog, he got me above the knee too. No sissy ankle nips for this one. I spent three hours with him, to try to calm him down.

DIRECTOR DAVID LYNCH EXAMINES WHAT LIES BENEATH

.....David Lynch is one of those directors that you either really get, or you don't understand him at all. I've seen several of his films, including the infamous "Eraserhead", which was triple-billed with other interesting cult classics at an art-house theatre. He was the executive producer of "Nadja", which is a vampire picture that most people missed out on. It has a wonderful soundtrack and stars Peter Fonda. I also really enjoyed "Lost Highway", "Blue Velvet" and Elephant Man."

.....However, what I want to write about today is his work on "Twin Peaks", a television series from the early l990's. It was absolutely ground-breaking. It was accompagnied by the film "Fire, Walk with Me" (which had a cameo by David Bowie). This was the darkest and most brooding series to be featured on a mainstream cable network. David Lynch managed to sneak in several double entendres. How he got them by the censors, who must have been asleep at the switch, is amazing. It was most likely a reflection of the intellectualism of the wit. Lynch did not pander to the lowest common demoninator. This series forced a person to think. It challenged people to examine the nature of good and evil; is evil actually an entity onto itself?

.....In "Twin Peaks", David Lynch looked at what lies beneath. The show was set in what appeared to be an idyllic, small town in the Pacific Northwest. Ironically, it looked a lot like the town that I had to move to due to my job. Then, Lynch began to peel back the layers. The homecoming queen was a cokehead. It examined incest and the devastating outcome on the victim. The men who seemed to be the leaders of the community might actually be the boogie men from whom we need protection.

.....Well before the X files, he examined what other forces might be out there. There was a sense that the woods could carry a dark undercurrent for all its look of calm. He incorporated native legends into the narrative. Lynch was the first person to really make use of dream sequences to a great extent. At times, it is like watching a surrealist film. The violence, at times, was intense. The scene of the killing in the train car was frightening in that one could imagine the terror of this girl. As an aftermath, the critics at the time commented that never before had grief been so realistically captured on television film. The moment when the mother discovers that her daughter has died is gut wrenching.

.....There is a great deal of very fine acting in the series and the film. For instance, there is a scene towards the end of "Fire, Walk with Me" where we see the extent of Laura's cocaine usage. She is doing it just to get through her mundane days and nights. She is doing it to get dressed. It captures that feeling that the sun is coming up, all of the drugs are gone, one has done an eight-ball by themselves and been awake for three days solid. Now, the day is to be faced---sober. Along with that is the realization that one would also have to face what one was doing the drugs to avoid in the first place. Dead sober with no chance of sleeping.

.....David Lynch asks whether there is redemption or if all hope is lost. His ending is such that you have to make the decision.

.....Each year there is a convention in the town where this series was filmed, with various people involved from it. One year, I would love to go. I just need to talk somebody into being my road trip partner.

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Here's a clip from "Fire, Walk With Me." I've posted another below, in which Laura and her friend have a seemingly philosophical discusion, which takes a poignant turn. I've also found one from "Nadja", for those vampire fans.

David Lynch--Part Two

Notice the good acting. It's a profound statement about the loss of hope and the feeling that one is in a free-fall with no safety net or support network.

DAVID LYNCH- Part 3

This is for the vampire fans. It's got a dark sense of humour, great music and interesting cinematography.

DON'T MESS IT UP!

Just so that you know how serious I am, here's the list:

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---Literary Outlaw: The Life and Times of William S. Burroughs-

---Offbeat:Collaborating With Kerouac

---Windblown World: The Journals of Jack Kerouac l947-l954

---The Dream At the End of the World: Paul Bowles and the Literary Renegades in Tangier

---Off the Road:My Years with Cassady, Kerouac, and Ginsberg

---Selected Letters: Jack Kerouac l940-l956

---Beat Generation: Glory Days in Greenwich Village

---Takes of Beatnik Glory

---Desolate Angel: Jack Kerouac, The Beat Generation, and America

---When I was Cool: My Life at the Jack Kerouac School

---Baby Driver: A Novel About Myself (Jan Kerouac)

---Jack's Book: An Oral Biography of Jack Kerouac

---On the Road

---Minor Characters

---The Dharma Bums

---Naked Lunch



This doesn't begin to include my poetry anthologies which include writings by Ginsberg or my books which feature write-ups about the decades and have items on these people. Anyways, I own all of the above; I felt them important enough to go out and purchase. It could be understandable to have this fixation had I been a literature student, but I wasn't.
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I have read with trepidation that a film is being made of "On the Road." Hollywood has a horrid tendency to screw-up good books. I love Jim Carroll's "Basketball Diaries", and they made a mess of it. The book is set in the l960's, and the studio suits saw fit to mix 60's jargon with a l990's setting. They did the same thing with "The Rules of Attraction", by Brett Easton Ellis. The book was set in the l980's, yet the film featured obvious 90's references (Tarantino and visible tattoos). Things like that ruin it for me. Pick one theme and stick with it.
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"On the Road" is akin to "The Catcher in the Rye." It should not be messed with. The article I read was limited in information, and listed merely Viggo Mortensen as starring. This provided me with some relief, as he is a superb and highly under-rated actor. He is also an artist in his own right and therefore will understand the drive.
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Kerouac inspired a generation to hitch-hike and take to the road. Until his book came out, mainstream America had not heard of Zen Buddhism. It was thanks to him that many people heard their first bit of jazz music, as the radios tended to stick to a very conformist sound. Unfortunately, they highjacked his book at some point and it became about black berets and coffee-houses. Yet, the literature stands to this day.
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I made it a point when I was in Quebec City to go and see the house that carried the plaque "Jack Kerouac Club." His family was from Riviere-du-Loup originally, and with the stupidness that only comes with being seventeen, I one day hitch-hiked on the trans-Canada freeway to that town. I saw the parish church where his family was said to have attended. At this point in my life I was still wanting to study literature, although I had obviously given up my true dream of doing so at Columbia in New York City (Kerouac's school). When in San Francisco, I paid homage at the City Lights Bookstore and ate on a sidewalk cafe in North Beach.
While I never made it as far as Desolation Peak itself (where sanity and time began to slip for him a bit), I did a road trip through the Cascades Loop in Washington State.
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Years later, the road still calls me. Poetry and jazz can surprise and dazzle me. However, I now see that as fine as the literature continues to be, the lifestyle was intolerent of women. They were routinely abandonned, with the exception of Jack's mother, whom he constantly returned to and lived with well into his adulthood. In a game of WillIam Tell gone bad, Bill Burroughs shot his wife in the head. Obviously, a woman could not hitchhike across the country as freely as a man. Some of the women were as brilliant as their male counterparts and graduated from the same schools, yet they could not find a following. Some sank into madness. The double standard prevailed in that alcohol consumption was romantic in a male, but disgusting when done so by a female. Yet, I have to admit that I am still in love with "On the Road." I know that the women's study program of my university would not approve. What can I say? Maybe it's because this was a guy who loved cats----yes---that's my excuse.

THERE GOES THE NEIGHBOURHOOD---

With the rise in 3D movies, I was joking with somebody a while back that it was only a matter of time before the porn industry got in on the action. Well, it looks like that's in the works. Once that takes place, there's some people who will never leave the house. I guess there will be clients for Dr. Drew's show purporting to be addicts of some sort.
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At least in the l950's people had to work a little harder. It probably burned calories. First of all, somebody had to have the ingenuity to know where to get a projector and then how to thread the stupid thing. Maybe that's why those audio visual geeks volunteered their services; it provided a connection to those idiots on the football team. After all, they were the mainline to the goods. They'd sneak out the projector so that they could watch some purloined stag film in the locker room after the game. Besides, those goons wouldn't have the intellect to hit the switch without the help of the much maligned A.V. geeks; thus they'd be spared a beating. They therefore had their purpose in the world.
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It would have been hard to hide a fondness for watching porn back in those days. With the length of time it took to set the equipment up, the little woman was bound to be home from the market by the time it was all set to go. By then, the feeling might have passed anyways. There was always the risk of the film burning also. Explain that smell. "Honey, did you let the pot boil over?"
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In the l960's, the jukebox morphed into the peep-show. A person could step into a booth and fire quarters into a machine that would play an endless array of film. These, in the industry, were known as "loops." The machine would require more quarters at the vital last minute---the so called money shot. Heaven help the guy who didn't have enough change. Also, a person wouldn't want to have a look at those booths in the daylight.
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Now, these things lasted until a few years ago. I was once talked into making a forray into a shop to pick up an inflatable sheep as a gag gift for a coworker who was transferring elsewhere. I became curious about these booths and after a Guns N Roses concert and the consumption of a fair amount of Wild Turkey, I talked a male friend into a "Walk on the Wild Side." Enquiring minds wanted to find out. The man at the counter looked at us as we headed to the back and said "Only one per booth." We both nodded, oh so innocently and gangled our bag of quarters. It was pitch black back there (a good thing I am sure). Each booth was miniscule, and featured a small bench (on which we did not sit). The screen itself was tiny, and there were many film selections featured. It didn't seem to matter, as whatever you pushed didn't correspond to what came up. I doubt the clientele really cared about the plotline anyways. We were trying not to laugh, as this was surely serious business for the others on site.
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But, I've gotten ahead of myself. It became hip in the l970's to go out as a couple and check out indie art films with nudity. These were usually made by guys with bad facial hair who had done one semester at film school. They were auteurs and their medium was the body. It was in the late l970's that a twelve year old Brooke Shields starred as a child prostitute in a New Orleans brothel in the film "Pretty Baby." As an offshoot, photos were taken of her in a bathtub, fully disrobed, for a magazine that actually displayed prepubescent girls. Such were the times.
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In the l980's, the pendulum swung and the moral majority began to picket venues that displayed too much skin. The introduction of the Betamax (a big old box like thing) allowed people to buy or rent videos for home usage. There was still the dreaded walk of shame to the back of the video store, to the area behind the swinging doors. Then there was the walk back to the counter, with the huge boxes of lurid smut. There would be no point in trying to hide it under ones coat, as then the guy would only look like he was trying to shop-lift the goods.
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The internet changed everything. Now, it's the most commonly sought out thing in cyber-space. For all the talk of looking at the Louvre online, it's not Picasso's nudes that are being googled or oogled.
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With the introduction of 3D porn, I forsee a rise in sick-leave usage. I have to feel some pity for those poor male porn stars. Before, camera angles and lighting could help cover any deficites that they might have. With 3D, as with HD television, the camera doesn't lie. I wonder how many older guys will misuse their Viagra and flatline as a result? I recall the case a few years ago when there was a spate of kids in Japan having seizures over one animated television show. This one should be interesting. What's that adage: It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.

WHO KNOWS WHAT EVIL LURKS?

.....It's that time again; my friend is off on holidays and my duties have been called in to feed the beast. The house had recently been up for sale, and part of the understanding was that when people came to view the place, it had to be put in a crate and be removed from the premises. It wasn't enough to merely place him into another room.

.....I was actually around when the guy came to appriase the house, as my friend got called to work on some union business. The cat and I were getting along well. Then "He" came into the home and made the unfortunate error of announcing that he was somewhat afraid of cats. When the man was halfway up the stairs, the cat materialized like a scene out of any bad B movie ever watched and began to act out. This feline had obviously taken lessons in the Pia Zadora school of emoting. His eyes had gone as black as the shark in Jaws. He was howling like some soundtrack album purchased for Halloween night spookfests. The poor appraiser man stood stock still on the steps; he could move neither up, nor down. My friend returned at that moment and saved the day. Never, ever let them read your fear.

.....My friend who passed away last year (B) was helping me look after the cat once. The cat had been placed on a strict diet and my friend took pity on him. Hey, he was bad at control. Who was he to just say no? The cat was suppossed to have one third of a can of food a day, yet my friend gave him an entire can.

"You know, he's going to count the cans when he comes home," I said.

"I know that." said B. "I'm going to drive into town to buy more and replace them." That's exactly what he did too. They were a special item and he had to drive a fair distance to pick them up. He pulled the empties out of the garbage to make sure that he picked up and replaced the right flavour also, just in case the variety was checked. My friend (S) couldn't understand how his cat gained weight on his "diet". The cat never told and my friend took his story to his grave.

.....So, if I don't blog for a while, it's either the computer, or the monster got me.

By the way, the photo is of my dearly departed cat, Myron.

LOSER'S ANNONYMOUS....

I was joking with my friend that this is just the twelve step program that the world needs. Only, I doubt that there would be a rush to join. After all, how many people would want to admit this as their first step. Hello, my name is....and I am a loser.
Story of my life, I am afraid. I have written before of my love of the arts. Despite that, I have zero talent. I have an incredible appreciation for it but grew up surrounded by many relatives who managed to inherete a gene which blessed them with an ability of one sort or another. They can draw, sing or play an instruement. I can do nothing. As a child I somehow fell in love with musicals and could recite all the lyrics. I'd pain any neighbourhood dog with my singing. To this day, should I be cleaning the house and the headphones are on, my singing will drive the cats to launch themselves off my loft. I fear that the people next door might call the cops one day on me for some newly created by-law offence. I'm sure a judge would understand should they tape the noise.
I have a stack of art books sitting on my shelves. If I ever came into money, I'd love to take a tour of the best galleries in the world. Just my luck, I was probably the only little kid in the history of elementary school so dismal at it that I was kept in after school for failure to draw a proper stick man. I still recall my shame.
It goes beyond this. My brother always had an ease with speaking to people. I recall how shocked people would be when they found out that he was my brother. I was so introspective and shy. He would have girls phoning up, giggling, then hanging up. I recall having that ability once and it was called a blackout. It was so weird. I was seventeen years old and it was a post graduation trip. My friends and I were taking the train across the country and they served us alcohol; they didn't care. I recall finding myself sitting in the bar car, surrounded by a bunch of people I didn't know. I was the life of the party. How in the world did this happen? I was being very entertaining. Obviously, a person cannot go through life like that, although the concept was tempting.
I was also in the centre of very good looking relatives. You know it's bad when your own mother laments the fact that you don't look like your cousins. It would have been okay had they been bad people and stuck up, but they were nice...they were funny...they were smart. One went on to study at the music conservatory at the same time as she studied law. One has since met royalty and film stars. Mmmm,,,did I tell you that I am the family loser? When we were kids we were very close, but I began to feel that given my social ineptitude and my obvious grotesqueness, why would they want to hang out with me? So, I just stopped talking to them one day. Then I stopped eating. Of course, it didn't help me grow up to be a six foot tall super model and I never did pick up the phone to call my cousins. I gained weight again and felt ever worse about myself.
So, I am thinking of forming a charter for this club. No dues. Just a willingness to admit that one has bad luck with things, like I do. That, despite doing regular maintenance on ones vehicle, it will surely fail every time there is a bit of balance in the bank account. That one owns pets who zero in on the one area that is carpeted in the entire house to projectile vomit. Things like that.
On that note, it's noon and 34 degrees and I have to get to bed.

DAYS OFF ARE OVER

Well, it's back to work tonight, and I'm in a horrid mood. I've got nothing done and the house continues to be a mess. I used to get stuff done, once upon a time. It was very hot on my rest days, and as I have no air conditioning in my vehicle, I didn't feel like going anywhere. I call it the migraine-mobile when I have to drive it in the heat. There's a couple of random things I have thought of. Here goes:

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01) When you hear interviews, a lot of stars will refer to wearing an item of clothing that is vintage. The other day, one of them said that she had on "vintage 90's." I just call that the stuff in the back of my closet that I never threw out. In fact, that's the clearance rack in the town where I live.

02) What the heck does it mean when you read the statement, "we never officially broke up?" How do you go about doing that? Stand facing each other and declare your intentions to unhook? Do both parties have to agree? Have people become so dense that we now have to draw up an uncommitment dating ceremony? I would have thought that after a person didn't answer somebody's phonecalls or they ran screaming in the other direction when they saw a person coming that it would be enough of an official notice. I could understand this sort of statement coming from a sixteen year old and this is why they shouldn't be getting serious in the first place, but I've heard people who are much older say this. Honestly, it kind of gives me stalker vibes when people go they don't know if they've broken up or not and it's getting on two years.

03) What is it with old guys and clean cement? This is a suburb phenomena, I guess. I can't exactly see some guy on a stoop in the Bronx caring. It's like they hit a certain age and all of the sudden they need to sink a significant amount of money into a pressure washer so that they can clean the cement. Damn, that's a really nice bit of concrete you've got there, Bob. I am not kidding when I write that there are old guys in my area who will spend three hours a week doing it. This is all without benefit of hearing protection too, I might add. This would also be the same old codger what would phone the cops if somebody were to play Linkin Park at the same decible level.

04) In a related area, why is it that when women do housework they clean something, yet when males do the same thing to a car they say they've "detailed" it? It is too sissy of a word to say clean?

05) Why buy a sports car if you cannot do the speed limit? There's nothing sadder then a person driving one below the speed limit on a perfect summer day, especially in the fast lane. And please, don't let your manhood be challenged when I then pass you in my old vehicle and you can suddenly keep up.

06) Is there some law of physics which states that the person who has been holding up traffic makes it through the light---just barely---and nobody else does so?

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So, I must now remember to get what I have to wear tonight. washed. I had forgotten about it, and it's still where I left it when I got off work. Ugh.

Looking forward to this Documentary: Algren

Michael Caplan states that his documentary of Nelson Algren should be out next year. This is a man who has been neglected far too long. I've found and read only one biography on him (Nelson Algren-by Bettinna Drew). Years ago, The Passionate Eye featured a documentary on the relationship between him and Simone de Beauvoir, which I believe was called "A Walk on the Wild Side", which was named after one of his books. He was a man who loved the Chicago he wrote about, yet most people don't know who he is.
Nelson Algren sold one of his books to Hollywood, yet wanted no part in its glam. That story was "The Man with the Golden Arm" and it starred Frank Sinatra. His friends continued to be the junkies and pimps that he wrote about. I must stress that they were his friends; he did not associate with them for the value of the thrill. These were his people. He felt comfortable in the dives of his neighbourhood where he'd always lived.
He made the acquantance of Simone de Beauvoir and she wrote of it in "The Mandarins". He was the physical love of her life. For years, they would travel back and forth between Paris and Chicago, at a time when such travel was no easy thing. Despite the language barrier, they had a strong bond. He wanted to marry her, yet she felt that she could not leave Jean Paul Sartre. When she died, she was wearing the ring he gave her.
He was a man who absolutely lived on his own terms. He was always willing to help out others, and thus died with little money of his own. His political beliefs won him little friends, for these were dangerous times thanks to the black listing of writers, directors and others. Joseph McCarthy made independent thought a risky thing.

MADNESS AS SEEN BY MARYA HORNBACHER

MADNESS: A BIPOLAR LIFE ---Marya Hornbacher

Years ago I read and enjoyed the book "Wasted", as it was one of the best books I'd read on eating disorders (and trust me, I have gone through many). A while ago, I picked up a book on bipolar disorder written by Marya Hornbacher. After her initial work, she just sort of seemed to disappear. There hadn't even been a guest appearance on Tyra or Oprah. So, where had she been? Well, this book unravels that mystery.

As with her book on anorexia, Marya doesn't hide anything; she is brutally honest and frank. She lets us know that she wasn't necessarily the nicest person to be around while she was having problems. She is very honest in examining her motivations as well.

"Don't Go in the Basement!" You know the feeling. In the horror movie, there's the girl, headed towards the door. Behind it is the staircase which leads down to the basement and her certain demise by Jason or Freddie. Not only do you want to call out and tell her to stop, but there's that part of you too that's angry or frustrated with the girl for her own risky behavior. After all, she's not oblivious to the fact that bad things have been going on around her. It was a dark and stormy night with piled up bodies and flickering lights, yet our girl feels the need to visit the wine cellar below.

Marya helps us understand via her writing why she, and others with bipolar illness may do the things they do. First of all, why do people with diabetes do what they do? It's an illness; first and foremost. There is a change in the way the body chemistry works which is beyond their control. Nobody wants to be sick, especially when society attaches a stigma to it. As for the medication, it has side effects and the right combination needs to be found. Not all people can afford to have it nor is it paid for. The family doctor may not understand the best protocol and there's a waiting list to find somebody who does. Marya explains how long it took for her to get diagnosed and this is a woman who was in and out of hospitals for much of her life for treatment for her eating disorder. It took a long time for somebody to clue in. I use the diabetes analogy, as nobody blames the victim if they see them eating white rice occassionally. Yet, society tends to judge those with chemical illnesses differently.

At times, Marya explains that she did not want to take her medication. After all, she was a writer and it interfered with that. Some of the medication also made her gain weight. For the reader, it can be frustrating to read. This is a woman with an obviously high I.Q. She's well versed in compulsive behaviors and addictions. Although it took a long time for her to receive a proper diagnosis, once provided her Psychiatrist was very blunt with her as to the risks posed by continued drinking and by inadherence to her prescription protocol. What did she do? Why, she opened that door and charged headlong down the steps to that basement. She began to consume vast quantities of alcohol which not only made the pills noneffective but had a negative potential outcome on her liver. She is open in her writing about driving drunk and recklessly; she pulls no punches in this work. Marya would be hospitalized, saved, warned; all to no avail.

We are lucky to still have this gifted woman with us.

This book is an interesting read, but also informative for those people who may know or suspect that somebody is bipolar. They'll understand why they may not take their medication; that the initial manic phase does feel good. Really, who wouldn't resent having to take medication for the rest of their lives, especially at such a young age? It isn't merely a case of just taking some pills and getting on with it. As an aside, people who take lithium must have their levels monitored and tested. In her case, when writing is your life, what do you do when the thing that may save your life blunts what drives you? It's not a book for for the squeamish, though, as she describes in detail how she found herself carving her arm one night. The book runs the gamut from being poignant to hilarious.

The more good writing on this topic, the more people will understand. Patty Duke bravely spoke out on her battle. I hope that libraries stick this one on their shelves as sometimes people have to push their family doctor for answers. And guess what....ones teenage daughter may be doing more then acting out. Unless she gets proper help, she may opt to self medicate out of guilt of not being able to control herself. Marya Hornbacher helps people get, in an interesting way, that concept. Smart people cannot always fix their own problems.

Finally, if it helps parents or loved ones understand that they aren't to blame, all the better. It's an illness. That's the one thing that I continue to be troubled by in regards to my almost starving myself to death when I was in university---the knowledge that my parents might blame themselves somehow. This isn't anybody's fault and it isn't bad---no more so then anything else that ails you.

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SPEAKING OF MUSIC (see blog blow)

Music and smells have the ability to transport me back to a time and place; it's as though I have stepped into a time machine. If I hear the right song, I will remember exactly what I was doing, or a specific person will come to mind. Obviously, it's important for a lot of people---that's why people will speak of having "their song".

I also have songs that I cannot abide. Sure, I loathe the entire country genre. But, there are songs which are the aural equivalant of nails on a blackboard. They manage to sneak into your head, then a refrain or two will continue to repeat and replay throughout the entire day. I'm surprised nobody's ever left a suicide note: "Sorry. Only way to make the Anne Murray song in my head stop." I guess one of my top annoyance songs is "Muskrat Love" by Captain and Tenille. Every once in a while I will be in a store, minding my own business and reading the ingrediants on some packaging, when this song will come on. It seems to be a favourite of soft 70's type stations. If I weren't afraid of being nailed for shoplifting, I'd probably run screaming out of there. I'm actually afraid to type the name of the next song...it had gotten stuck in my head last week because they used it in the movie "Rules of Attraction" and I rewatched it. The song is "Afternoon Delight". Check it out and you'll see what what I mean. Oh, the horror. Then, there's all the crap that they insist on playing at weddings. Why, oh why, do they always have to put on that stupid Macharena song? Is it to get video footage of people doing stupid things?

I also have this mental list of songs I would love for people to redo. These are songs that seemingly wouldn't go with the person, but I think they could put a very interesting spin on it. An example of this would be Trent Reznor from Nine Inch Nails covering "Eleanor Rigby" by the Beatles. He's put his own personal angst into that one. Another one? If you're not familiar with the l960's song by Eric Burdon and the Animals, listen to "When I Was Young." Now, think of Eminem covering it, given his admission of his past problems.

Oh yes---lemon report. I had written this then tried to post it when I was bumped off the server and got the old "Not Responding" thing.

THERE THEY GO---LET'S BLAME THE MUSIC

`````I had to laugh when I read an article in The Daily News in which a top music executive/producer was quoted. He was complaining about the music of today sexualizing the young. He compared it to the more innocent l980's.

`````It was the comments, and there's a lot of them, that I found amusing. Basically, the downfall of Western Civilization as we know it falls at the feet of Lady Gaga and her ilk. Well, at whatever footwear she might be wearing that day, given her fondness for seven inch platforms.

`````I had mentioned to my friend once that I'd love to write a book and call it "Bad History---the Faulty Recall of the Recent Past." There's this horrid tendency to look back with fondness and rose coloured glasses on what really took place. Everything takes on a glossy veneer and people forget the bad stuff. I'll actually save this for a future blog. Right now, I just want to talk about music.

`````I think they happen to be mixing up the visual images of videos with music. Frankly, I didn't even think MTV played them anymore, given all the reality television on there. There's also a sexualized component to any concert clothing, but that's always gone on. But here's my issue; the impressionable preteens shouldn't be there in the first place. Most concert venues are for adults. I know that there are groups specifically targeted for that age group, such as the Jonas Brothers and Demi Lavato, etc. and they are age appropriate. Besides, who merely drops off a pre-adolescent at a concert anyways? Shouldn't they go with adult supervision? I mean, these are the very same people who won't let their kids go outside to play for fear of attack. As for the television and the media, it's everywhere. Our society is obsessed with the surface and the mundane. It's proven that people now have shorter attention spans, so there's a perceived need to keep changing the stimuli. Parents control the television.

`````In the l980's, Tipper Gore began the push to label music. At the time, Madonna was perceived as the harbinger of doom and the one leading girls into white slavery. When the musical tastes shiifted to hip-hop, there was talk about the bad language. Don't tell me how safe the l980's were, as people were complaining then. Frankie Goes to Hollywood actually had their song "Relax" and the video that went with it, pulled, once somebody sat down and figured out the lyrics.

`````In the l970's, the Glam Rock bands such as The New York Dolls and David Bowie were on the hitlist for their sexuality. I won't even get into all of the punk bands. The Sex Pistols created a firestorm on the Queen's Jubilee with their song.

`````How about the l960's. I guess people forget, because the oldies stations seem to stick to the soft formatting of songs by groups such as The Archies. But there was a lot of rage at the time and music reflected that. There's a great scene in Oliver Stone's film, The Doors, about the Ed Sullivan show. That sort of censorship took place. Bands weren't suppossed to say things like "higher". Then, along came Mick Jagger and his tight jeans. The public was aghast.

`````Before that, Elvis Presley was perceived as the anti-Christ himself in the l950's. His hip swaying was sinful and would lead to lustful thoughts and deeds.

`````I love all sorts of music, and have some blues collections from way back. Let me tell you, there were some sharp double entendres in there. Swing Music was banned in Nazi Germany because of its reputation.

`````I guess I was hoping that the people Douglas Coupland stamped with the moniker Generation X would be a little more hip and wouldn't fall into the trap. I might not particularily like the music that's out there, as I find it unoriginal and homoginized, but these arguements have all been stated before. The real problem, as I see it, are parents unable to say "no"...who cave to the kid who wants to wear imappropriate attire at a young age.

MY VISA BILL ARRIVED

A picture, as they say, is worth a thousand words.

LOOKING BEYOND

`````A number of years ago, I visited a small museum attached to the Ursulines Convent in Quebec City. I was looking at a tapestry when an elderly nun approached me and began to explain its history. It had taken years and years to make, with literally several people working on it. I studied it and could see no breaks in its needlework at all. The museum featured an exhibit of the living condition of the nuns; it was not lavish. I could picture them over the years---hunched over the tapestry in silence or prayer as their hands set to work. Unlike for most women, it would not hang on the walls of a home to be passed down from one generation to another. Then, one day, I went to hear them sing. I say that I went to listen, as one could not observe them, for they were cloistered. The church was in an L shape, and where they sang was not observable to us. The choir was incredible. In not being able to look at them, it was solely the voices that became the focus.

````` I started to think about the concept of an entire society that worked that way; one that wasn't based on how everything looked and packaging. All of our films today are solely driven by CGI and not plot or acting. The leads are often ex-models. Acting skills aren't really that important anymore. Look how quickly Meagan Fox was replaced when she got out of line. There's a lot of good looking women in Hollywood.

`````I doubt that in today's society a person like Janis Joplin would make it. Sure, somebody like Beth Ditto can have a following in a small market, but she is certainly not mainstream. Joplin was huge in the l960's, when people were more accepting of physical imperfections. Now, a size six is seen has over-weight and will be air-brushed. In fact, Katy Perry was recently air-brushed on the cover of "Rolling Stone" magazine. This was once a counter culture magazine and would never have considered doing something like that. No, what sells now is mediocre as long as it looks good. Think Shania Twain and her belly button. All of the top selling songs sound exactly the same.

`````I just read a study which stated that kids who bully get away with it because they look good. This research suggested what I always knew. Nobody would tolerate this sort of behaviour from the less then beautiful. In fact, we let Karla Homolka literally get away with murder. Her husband is sitting in a jail cell still while she is on a sandy beach with her newly beloved and a baby. Had she been three hundred pounds with an over-bite, that deal would never have been made. Justice is not blind when it comes to good looking people.

`````Some people laugh about the fact that men are now also feeling the brunt of the beauty brush stroke. I think it's just sad; more victims. Young boys are now also falling victims to eating disorders. I hardly think that this is equality.

`````If we're going to judge somebody, let's do it because they're rednecks on purpose. Let's condemn them because they do evil deeds. But, to mock people because of their weight, skin colour, height, etc is ignorant. As I said, in some ways, I liked the idea of the convent. All that we heard was the beauty of their voices and we accepted it.