propogandizing

A friend of mine sent me this a while ago and said that I was supposed to plaster it around everywhere I could.... more specifically within our circle of friends, I suppose. The dude pictured second from the left is a friend of ours...and apparently it's pretty dern hilarious that he is picturd on this pamphlety thing.
I'm not very good at plastering, apparently. It's taken me 15 years to post this dang thing.

[27/11/07:)]

Dear Filmmakers,

If you are going to produce and present something that is out of the ordinary, something that does not fit the standard format, then stick with it.
Avoid the cliche climax; show characters engaging in truly painful things. Show disgusting things for the sake of the plot or for character development. Ask big questions. Do all of that but do not back down. Don't sit me down for 100 minutes of, "wow this is different," only to "close" it all with five minutes of happy/fits-in-a-box/American-ideal tying of loose ends. That cheapens all of what you had hitherto said. It's almost like saying it's not important to break away and say what you mean.
It's equivalent to a woman giving a long and intense, innovative, moving speech about her views on child pornography and what could be done to shut down the industry only to conclude with a chuckle and averted eyes, mumbling,"But... you don't need to listen to me ... what do women know, anyways?"
Imagine the jarring shock the audience recieves, all perched on the edges of their seat, ready to give a standing O. They would know that they shouldn't believe you, they would know your brilliance and wisdom from the oration you had just offered but the harshness of your final comment would taint the whole thing. It would ring in their minds, threatening to blot out all other memories of what you said that night. Me, I'd be waving my hands around like a madwoman, asking, "Why'd she hafta go and do that for?"
DO NOT SELL YOURSELF SHORT. If you want to be progressive or different or abraisive or subversive or go against the grain then do it. Be bold and fearless but most important: follow through. Make me believe that you weren't just saying it for the sake of saying it. Then I stop questioning your subtext, I stop reading between the lines, I stop wondering and isn't that precisely the desired outcome of such a work? I stop taking you seriously when you stop taking you seriously.
Be emboldened.

l'autre côté

(oration)
Sometimes I think I understand why people would dislike Christianity. I mean.. look at all the things you can't do: you can't die, you can't worry.. you're not allowed to have fear, you can't be alone, you can't be abandonned, you can't lose hope, you can't be defeated by all the evil in the world nor the Evil One himself...it's such a hard life, eh?

I used Italics to show were my tone would elongate the words the way we do when we're listing things in an effort to build our case. I was just saying all this stuff out loud to myself in the if-I-had-a-pulpit demeanor that I affect more often than you know.
I was thinking, about seven minutes ago, how I am at a time-crunch crossroads and I feel like a deer caught in the headlights who is mostly hoping the Ford flat-bed will reach me before I find my reflexes.
Then it hit me (a thought, not the truck's grill): you're not allowed to worry. It's plain & simple and I think I should sleep easy tonight.

are you in love with me?

I have become exasperated as of late (it's only the first week!) over the amount of historical Christianity I am forced to encounter in class after class. Honest: only ONE of my classes does not bring up God stuff because it's a practical one, Tonal Analysis. OK, yes we look at hymns and some times the prof talks about church-y stuff but it's not the same as, "The Puritans believe.. " or, "Then Christianity was legalized because he converted. Soon, everyone was forced to convert - everyone but those in the Jewish community." I'm so tired of it. I'm tired b/c I have been in classes like this for the last three semesters (and I mean like more than 50% of my courseload is like this), I'm tired of it because the opinions of my professors and colleagues that encircle such topics are age-old and I'll hear them a million more times before I die and mostly, I am tired because I recognize that this is the life I am called to. Forever defending and explaining and standing strong in the face of adversity can be fatiguing, especially when we think of ourselves. I feel so alone sometimes in the classroom. It's that turning of the oppression tide that we have seen in the Black community and the homosexual community and now in the religious (I hate that word) community. Now, when professors decide to slam Christianity, Catholicism or God no one blinks an eye. I am not asking that we return to the times when this kind of expression was called blasphemy and you were beat for it, no. I only wish that (a) people who purport to be believers would actually CARE and thusly set them selves apart when such things are said and (b) speakers (be it whomever) would not phrase their opinions in such a way that means there is an assumption that they could not possibly be offending anyone coz no one believes in that stuff anymore. I believe in that stuff anymore! ... I wish I could shout. It comes back to my favorite stand-up comedy example. The comic spoke about gay people (using the term "faggots") as if everyone in his several-hundred-person audience would agree with him; that's what comics need, common ground with their audience. The set was from 1980 when apparently AIDS was new and condescending homosexual people was still cool or widely accepted. He talked about "faggots over here lookin at his a**" amongst other things in a manner that was so degrading - made more so by the audience's hearty laughter - like gay people were circus side-shows who understood their place. In away they almost did, rendered choice-less. WHAT IS THAT? What is that...? I was thinking: what about the gay people sitting in your audience right now? How do they laugh along or worse yet - how do they not laugh and not be looked at funny? That aint right and I wish that the comic, along with a handful of my professors and fellow students would not make such assumptions because it makes me feel invisible, invalid, disliked and isolated. Oh yes, and belittled. I wrote an extremely abridged version of this post - jus sum ev'ryday comments - in an email a few minutes ago and was reflecting on frustration of this constant struggle for I am weak n' weary. Then I picked up a cue card from my desk that I have been trying to ignore for months because I am too lazy to find more tape to stick it up again and too disturbed by the fact that I think its inscription does not mean much to me any more and I am supposed to pretend it does. It inspired this post and it reads,

Galatians 6:9

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Uh huh.. slam in the face and amen.



[So much for "one short post before I go to bed".]

dichotomy

Today in one of my English classes the professor said that he wanted to - with our permission - do something different during the first part of our lecture time and get to the nineteenth-century literature later on. He wished to discuss the events at Dawson College this week because he believe it is something that we need to discuss or should discuss. (I am inclined to agree with him though I'm not sure about how absolute the idea is.) The class responded well and a 50+ minute discussion ensued. Some feedback I had already heard in response to similar events, some feedback was innovative some was difficult to understand but, very surprizingly, none of it seemed put on. When the professor first presented his idea, I was worried people would still consider the talk to be part of their academic performance and basically try to impress but they didn't. People are getting mature and when I say, "people", I'm referring to my peers; the ones I will always see when I look left and right. One girl in my class works for the CSA (Central Students' Association) and she told us that when she first heard the news on Wednesday, she, "rushed to the fourth floor and asked if the flag could be lowered to half-mast." The response she got was no and the reasoning was that the U of G couldn't do it alone; the act needs to be performed in tandem with other universities. My question is: what the deal? This brings me to the meat of the post.

But first, a little more background...
One question that surfaced two or three times during the talk but remained unanswered was that which inquired as to our response. What should our reaction be? Later it became, why is our reaction to this event different from what is going on in Afghanistan, Iraq, Haiti, etc.? How do we get to decide what is worth caring about, what is worth time on/in the news and what does that say about how we value people outside of Canada? I have often wondered about this idea and found myself angered at how an anchorperson could tell me that Flight 231 to Tokyo went down and 54 passengers, including 4 Canadians were killed and I would be expected to accept this as reasonable reporting. I don't get it, I honestly don't. No life is worth more than another. But then I got to thinking about it real deep-like and concluded that our relations as one country to the others, the relationship between the groups of people we DO know and those that we do not, the relationship between our family and our friends and even the relationship between our mother and our second cousin are all the same: I can value both parties equally, as human beings but my grief for one will be different than for the other.

Call it crass if you must, but I believe that we cannot care for any given person in the world as much as we care for our son, our wife or our best friend. If we could, what would set any one relationship apart? Is it not better to have special people in your life instead of having uniform relationships with all?

With that in mind, my status is as follows:
When considering "how to react" or whether or not to lower your flag, strip the situation down to its most basic form: Someone died. You care about that. Now, how much you cry, what actions you take and what you say about that will depend on who you are. But before that, before politics come into play, you know that it is a sad thing and maybe even a tragedy for a human being (someone just like you) to pass away and you can react to only that. I don't feel obligated to react as a university student because this incident took place at an educational institution. I didn't/wouldn't/don't feel obligated to react as a woman to the "Montreal Massacre" (if that's what it's called). I react as a person who can mourn the loss of a person.

If you feel a particular tie then that aint wrong. If your bubble was burst and the that-would-never-happen-to-me/-in-my-neighbourhood monster came in and gave you a fright then react to that. As for me, I refuse to feel more poorly about one thing because the media and the people in my world blow it up in my face and try to solicit tears.

draw-er of smirks

Everyone should have a post written about them... you get to be first.

Eight things I like about Silas
(1) His first name is almost a palindrome.
(2) When he laughs, he really laughs - for serious.
(3) When it's time to be serious, Silas is so serious it scares me.
(4) His hair is spikey.
(5) He rides his bicyclette in the winter.
(6) He thought paix dehors (as in "peace out" in French) was funny.
(7) He can play 15 instruments, including the Lord of the Rings pipe (a.k.a. penny whistle).
(8) He once said, "Your opinion is invalid: you are ugly."

I think Silas is cool. He's got a lot of stock points. For the record, Silas, I never would have written this post if I hadn't (a) discovered yesterday that you read my blog and (b) had that weird and brief conversation with you on the stairs. I already forgot what we were talking about but I remember you laughing like a maniac about something.


the series:
Katie: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2006/10/having-crushes-on-multiple-young-lads.html
J-Rob: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2007/01/title-less.html
Lydia: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2007/04/one-thing-i-like-about-lydia.html
Paul: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2008/04/10th-paul-post.html

that other one

Mangy hair runs in my family, I think.
This photograph is weird to me because I get the feeling the shutter speed (wrong word?) was a bit slow to catch her movements. It's just a weird face, too. She pulls that one all the time. It's bordering mischevious but it's more something like brooding or ... contemplation. I find it almost creepy, considering she is about 2 1/2 years old.
yikes

I lack depth

I have concluded: one of the most frightening things in existence is reality. The reason that you can keep your wits about you when watching "The Ring" is that a small - but wonderful - part of your brain is constantly sending THIS IS ONLY A DRAMATIC PRESENTATION STOP DO NOT BE ALARMED STOP telegrams to all appropriate locations. But if that girl from the well (I forget her name) did actually step out of your television well then you might die of fear like those in the film did. We could watch "Men in Black" or "Lord of the Rings" and see all the creepy/scary characters... maybe we'll jump or cringe but we will never have that genuine terror within that says we should take up archery because there's a chance an ork or an alien will attack on the way home from the theatre.
I have been realizing at a painfully slow rate that I am deathly afraid of reality. Actually, I might not call it a fear but perhaps an allergic reaction. It's not even that. It seems that I have not made a good enough acquaintance with reality to be able to understand it and to desire to learn more of it. How many mistakes have ballooned into life-changing problems because I did not understand what was truly going on? I have these ideas in my head of what is true and I run with that (as I do with other things) until I find something more true to replace them. But sometimes, those more true ideas do not find me but they wait to be sought out. It's .....not cool.

pah pa pa

My head is swirling with thoughts and I don't know what to say.
I have too much, somtimes, I think.
I want to read but I can't find a good book (these days).

--
It seems like it's been ages since I was last a student though in reality scarcely four months have passed.
At the first CCC weekly meeting of the year I feel myself desperately trying to hold on because I envision the LAST CCC meeting of the year and wonder who I will still talk to.
--
I had a dream last night that I couldn't play piano. I don't mean that I was incapable of pushing out any song on the keys, no (thank Heavens). What I mean is that I was unable to play the two pieces of music that I had told the evaluator I would play at the recital in front of 500 people. Mark you... that is really my dream in life. I'd love to play music for half a thousand people in a large cathedral-esque building at a grand piano. But this time, I was distraught because I knew I had not practiced the songs in so long that my memory was only half reliable which is FAR worse than being totally unreliable. You patch in and out of sections you know and don't know and there is no re-starting in performance. I didn't want to NOT play or to try to play the songs I'd promised. My plan was to ask if I could play two other songs that I knew I had memorized but she'd likely say no because (a) recitals don't work like that and (b) I only had the music for one of the songs (evaluators need copies).

When I woke up I resolved to head to my nearest free-acess up-right and start practicing. I don't even remember the last time I learned a new song. How sad.


--
There was a group playing jazz music downtown yesterday (actually, there were many since a Fest is on but I only saw one) and my one observation of them was that they were not playing music but that the music was playing them. It's like they just stand there and it flows out - or bursts forth, depending on the day. .... I've never said that before but it seems to make a whole lot of sense. That is what I have been trying to say about jazz and blues musicians since the dawn of time. Them and people like Michael Jackson who look like they're undergoing an exorcism when they wax musical.

somebody call for back-up

[Editor's note: a.k.a. "things that piss me off (0)"]

I hate when people excuse behaviour by claiming that they're "creating jobs". Are you kidding me? Are you actually serious when you say things like that? When you deliberately leave shampoo in the pasta section or when you make a mess out of your table's food and drink scraps right before you leave or when you neglect to return your dishes to the counter as expected is it your own little way of trying to boost the Canadian economy? Do you honestly think that your own instance of laziness will prompt a business to establish some new & unique employment position and be forever grateful to you (and others like you) for the innovative idea? Or is it that if you create enough of a mess or inconvenience that the business will be forced to hire more people to clean up after you that those two or three down-and-out folk will come on their knees grovelling and professing absolute gratitude for the favor you've done them? How is it your business to FORCE an establishment to change or expand its staff anyway?
I truly do not understand how and why people say things like this and expect not to be challenged. Every time I've heard it, I get the distinct impression that the speaker thinks they've found some impregnable defence for laziness and selfishness. Think about it: even if someone is being paid to replace lost items or clear dishes, why ever would you not make their job as easy as you possibly can? Sure, maybe you paid for high-quality service or you're tired or in a rush, but as a human being (especially as a Christian) there is no excuse for making someone else's life a little harder and their day a little longer because taking crap from customers is part of their job description. Think about it. Think, think, think.

Dear Jerry Seinfeld,
I think I owe you an apology. I have seen your show maybe half a dozen times, I see your stand-up comedy clips in between and I'm not going to lie to you: I didn't think you were that funny. The worst part of this whole ordeal is that the main source that I based my opinion on was not even a primary one. One [friend] of mine told me of her disgust at your show, that she didn't like your whiney voice and the way that you spun entire episodes off stupid, mundane things. (No soup for you is really not that funny - can I just go on the record as saying that?) I have been absurdly biased and you know what? that's not cool.
I probably won't be watching the show any time soon because I still don't find it raucously hilarious but I'll stop hatin on it, I can promise you that.
Here's the thing: I watched I'm Telling You for the Last Time this weekend and I need to give props where props are due. You are funny. You have great comedic timing. You are a good comedic actor. You know how to play an audience, you rehearse well, you choose your words carefully. I am impressed by your performance. It's nice to see that you work so hard even when you've made it so big. That is the time when we are most tempted to coast but you seem to know that you need to go hard always (to stay on top, not just out of pity or because people remember your great achievements of the past). This attitude also reflects - I think - a genuine love for what you're doing and a genuine ambition to better yourself only for your own sake. Am I wrong? Have I diagnosed falsely?
Well done; I tip my cap, sir.

"at around midnight all the STOP signs turn to YIELD signs.. at least that's what I think"

God makes good things. This is what I have decided. I attended a wedding on Saturday and I couldn't believe the gloriousness and the beauty that I saw. The music was phenomenal (as in it-rocks-my-foundations good), the couple was ecstatic and God was clearly pleased. I gave the bride a hug and it was so great b/c it's probably the first non-awkward hug (I mean 100% non-) I've had in months and a while. She and I seem to have this crazy weird connection that I would only cheapen by discribing and I love that I was able to celebrate with her. That word, by the way, is fantastic when it's not being over-used. Celebrate.
My thoughts as of late have been that God deserves to be the total centre of attention even on your wedding day when you think the spotlight is yours. Not even then. And how much more gloried is He (and, in turn, you)? Taking things away from God leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth and a merciless sense of regret in my stomach. I think also of the last funeral I attended and recognize that it also was a celebration of God and secondly of one life's contribution (by God, for God and through God). [I wish we wouldn't be so lazy with our language and run good phrases into the ground like grooves in a popular hallway. "By God, for God and through God," is a good way to do anything but it's also a good way to "flesh out" a prayer if you're stuck for words and/or flying on auto pilot.]
I hung out with a tripe-load of Christians this weekend and it was kinda cool. I generally like Christians. I listened to and participated in musical worship and I found myself almost ashamed to realize how far away from a front-line warrior I have become. The gospel doesn't take summer vacations... how do I always forget this? Wasted time is a killer. I believe that God is forgiving but I do not believe that I will easily or soon change. If only I could remember...
I was thinking the other day how miraculous it is that I was saved. I was -- saved. I think I was coming down Islington Ave just past Eglington, looking out the westward window and I realized, "I became a Christian." How fantastic is that? How am I not grateful? I am a different person because of God - and before God - and I don't even notice it these days. A dim light have I cast into a Las Vegas casino strip.

You know those things that you only do because they're hard? Maybe you don't do them but I do. I really get a kick out of challenging myself for the sake of a challenge. What's the point of taking the easy road? How are you better off? .... I should blow up this philosophy into a life-sized goal.

olfactory again

Man, I haven't smelled this place in weeks.

My library smells like electricity and cleanliness, books and cooled air. The memories that come back the sharpest are the ones surrounding other droughts. I think of my first week or two when I came here because I was insanely bored, shy and fully not into drinking.

I remember other times when I came here for long periods because I was heavy into the studying. (This was usually around the time of final examinations and also near the beginning of the semester.) Something - however cheesy this may sound - smells like ambition and maybe that's not the word I want. It smells like hard work and perseverence. I can't make this sound normal but this is the best I can do. This smell is encouraging. It would spurr me on because I remember all the times I walked out of here finished with an assignment or with a chunk of studying, reading to go home, guilt-free. It's like the concrete stairwells in my first-year on-campus residence. They smell to me always like the music urge and anticipation because I skipped and sang down those steps so many times toward the piano room at the bottom. How glorious were those days...

I really do love school sometimes but not at those times when I should have been in bed an hour ago and this conversation is still so stinkin interesting. My grand weakness, I've discovered, is closing my bedroom door when housemates are gabbing. This is my last year and I am more than ready to go. I would love to have a university degree. I'm sure that won't make sense to me until I get it but I do look forward to it greatly. Talk about a sense of accomplishment. yah

and I think

Twenty-five days ago I was last at my dad's house here in the Saugs. My fourteen-year-old brother stepped out of the kitchen where I had just left to ogle the pictures on the mantlepiece. He says, "Jess, when are you going to change?" Surprized but expecting nothing serious I ask with a short laugh, "What do you mean?" He explains, "When are you going to turn into some business woman -" (at this point I thought he was going to tell me to grow up) "-and stop dancing around in the kitchen and singing weird songs?" "Never, Jahrann," I said. "I hope I never stop that," and he said, with his characteristic unneccessarily loud and abrupt voice (that works very well for comedic timing, I might add), "GOOD!" I told him it was up to him to hold me to the unspoken promise.

whipflash

It's like a love affair with a man I can never be with. Can you imagine ...?

Some days it's absolutely unbearable as well as entirely inscrutible.

He's beautiful, he really is. Every now and then, just listening to him speak makes me cry. Other times, his mere presence gives me the insane urge to busily and eagerly become a better person. I feel like cleaning up my life because if anything else is imperfect when he's around, he is not being done justice.

We know eachother well and some days it seems like we're standing a few inches apart but I still cannot touch him. Is it lack of arm strength in me or lack of desire in him? Sometimes it seems so simple but I -just- -can't- -move- any closer.



It bothers me that there's no deadline. There's no way to say, "OK, at least by the time I'm 25 or 40 we can be together," no. I have no guarantee that I will ever get to have...
There's no guarantee that I will be able to make music with the freest of expression.

I want to be a musician and I'm waiting.