What am I doing writing a post at 10:30 on Saturday night? Dying slowly would be the answer. I have had 9 hours of sleep over the past two days, and for someone as lazy as me this doesn’t cut it at all. I should really be in bed getting some much needed rest so I’m not such a useless twat at the final day of my face-to-face session tomorrow, but I had such an overabundance of awesome post titles lined up I had to start using them (today’s is brought to you by Chicago’s own Q.U.E.B.I.L.L.A.H.).
“Who I gotta fuck, fight or kill to get some airplay?/Whose pussy I gotta eat to get a hundred spins a day?/Whose daughter I gotta date to get a deal on the table?/Who I gotta injure? Maim? Disable?/Gimme a name and I’ll do it on cable.”
The boy spits fire. And before anyone beaks it for lack of something, remember to take it for what it is. The guy is a battle rapper. He disses people, and talks shit on tracks. That is no less valid than Eddie Vedder singing about fellating himself or what ever the hell he does, John Denver signing songs he wrote during the Depression, or the wonderfully well thought out, self-contained stories about pirates sung by The Decemberists. It's still art and it still takes skill (much like Eddie's ability to make all his band's songs sound like he is performing oral sex on himself verbally).
I also thought a brief update of my life these days may be in order as I lack the ability to communicate with anyone outside of Calgary in any other substantial way. The need for such an update may not actually be there. I don’t know these kinds of things. Also, due to an inability to focus, and an emphasis on quantity over quality (Propagandhi style), I will once again be doing this shit in point form. Solid gold point form.
- I recently (this afternoon) finished reading Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. The movie was fairly true to the book, which was surprising. I suppose this means that if you didn’t like the movie you should probably leave the book alone. There were some nice details that weren’t really included in the movie (the main character was supposed to have a hole he bit in his cheek throughout the story), and Chuck fleshed out the both people being the same person thing in a more logical way in the book, which added to my reading enjoyment. However, I did feel that the ending in the movie was cooler. I believe that is what happens when you watch a big budget movie before hitting the source material. Explosions are hard to top. One thing the book definitely had up on the movie was the foreword by the author. In it he describes all the people who truly believe there was a Tyler Durden and want to know where they can find their local fight club, and shares stories he has heard, such as a waiter in London telling him how Margaret Thatcher has ingested his batches without her knowledge on multiple occasions. Simply priceless.
- I am currently listening to At The Drive-In’s retrospective “This Station Is Non-Operational”. As my life tends to blur together in my memory, I can’t recall if I have written about this before, just talked about it with people, or just thought about talking about it with people. I seriously can’t tell this anymore. In any case, it is good stuff with the exception of the Pin k Floyd cover, which kills all the flow the cd had. So far my favourite track is Pickpocket. This is odd because I really like intelligent lyrics, and enjoy knowing the words to the music I am listening to (my stupid brain has to be able to retain something), but this song is fucking gibberish. They sing about alabaster cold and crawlspace dental identities and imploding milk cartons. I still can’t stop listening to it. I also enjoy listening to all the songs about how the government is stealing identities and fingerprints.
- I have spent the past two days in a classroom learning about consolidations and foreign currency translations. Tomorrow I learn about accounting for leases. It is surprising how much I retained from Kotev’s class. Especially considering how bad I did in that class. It must be because he is a vampire/urban accounting legend. Everyone I know thinks Peter is going to start working at their firm in the fall/winter/future/next hour. It’s fucked because the guy probably can’t even go outside during the day, or eat supper at Italian restaurants.
- My friend Matt is in Europe right now, gallivanting from skatepark to skatepark, with site-seeing tours squashed throughout. I have been unable to finish the e-mail that I am writing him, so I hope he catches this and knows that I hope all is well and I appreciate the updates.
- I will be in Saskatoon at some point in the next two weeks.
- I am in the closing stages of planning what is sure to be a stupid trip to West Palm Beach. Mark has a conference there and mistakenly invited Brehon, Tim and I to crash in his room for the week. The place we are staying appears to be for rich parents and their children, or rich people on honeymoons (http://www.thebreakers.com/ if you are interested in seeing it). We are already trying to figure out if leisure suits, or velour track suits will look more ridiculous. My vote is for the leisure suits, because velour track suits don’t look ridiculous in the least. Another important fact is that I think our drink budgets exceed the already excessive cost of a flight out there. And in the end if all our awesome plans fall through, at the very least I will not be in this rain soaked, flood ravaged country for the final week of August, and Mark will get in trouble at work for bringing the three jerks with him.
- Due to a burning desire to not pay to retake the CASB Module I am currently muddling through, I have made the executive decision to not attend Warped Tour this year. This was seriously hard to do, but I will be fucked if I do go. Also, in respect of the fact that my roommate is also going to be writing his module case that weekend I don’t think my place is open for crashing. Sorry.
Be easy.
