The seething mass of persons that crowded Wángfǔjǐng street would have surprised to notice that they were subconsciously making a space in their midst, if only they were capable of noticing such an act.
Are You Telling Me You Don't Like Chinese Food?
"I'm merely saying that, given my current state, I'm not very partial to the whole culture."
There's Going To Be A Large Amount Of People. We Need A Good Place To Make A Reservation
"But does it have to be Chinese? And why does it need to happen at all?"
I Believe It Will All Be Very Meta. I Look Forward To How It Ends
"Forgive me if I don't share your enthusiasm."
Your Problem, Mr. Bird, Is That You're Rather Short Tempered
"Was that a crack about my height?"
Do Forgive Me
Tweety shot his companion a look. "Hey, how does this place sound" he said, pointing to a sign.
Oh Dear. 'The Little Piggies'. I Am Deeply Afraid That That Joke was Inevitable
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Things that stand out from the Budget and today's debate
All the following comes from the government's official budget site, at http://www.budget.gc.ca/2009/plan/bptoc-eng.asp
"Providing $50 million over two years for a national foreign credential recognition framework in partnership with provinces and territories."
I have no idea what that means. I keep trying to parse it, but it doesn't come through.
Further down, a memorandum informs me that this is a program devoted to examining the credentials (Diplomas? Degrees? Resumes?) of foreign immigrants. That's good, but it could be less flowery.
"Allocating an additional $3.5 million over two years to offer an additional 600 graduate internships through the Industrial Research and Development Internship program launched in Budget 2007."
Just 600 internships? I know that's in addition to whatever the current number is, but that's a very low number. And the funds work out to about 5, 800 dollars per intern- is that in direct cash, is that in services provided or what?
"$20 billion in personal income tax relief"
That's 20 BILLION dollars that are not going to government services this year. (On a totally unrelated note, did you know there are seven remaining Trudeau appointees in the Senate? And one Joe Clark.)
"The Government will provide a one-time grant of $15 million to the YMCA and YWCA to place youth in internships in not-for-profit and community services organizations, with a focus on environmental projects."
That's odd choice to specify the YM and YW CAs. Christian associations, do they offer jobs to non-Christians? I have no idea.
Jean Dorion, BQ, Longueuil—Pierre-Boucher had this to say in today's session:
"The Bloc Québécois has put forward the unanimous priorities of the National Assembly of Quebec. They have been rejected by the Conservatives and the Liberals, who thus choose Canada over Quebec."
Well, yes, M. Dorion. That's because it's the FEDERAL government, not The Quebec-Centric government. What a stupid thing to say.
I need to say that, reading today's debate, one thing strikes me. It's all about the past. Each MP stands up and talk about how things were ten, fifty, a hundred years ago. The Liberals can barely say a hundred words without referencing the previous government, the Conservatives can only talk about promises they've already made, the NDP harp on about what people have said. There's this odd disconnect that nothing is in the "now".
"Providing $50 million over two years for a national foreign credential recognition framework in partnership with provinces and territories."
I have no idea what that means. I keep trying to parse it, but it doesn't come through.
Further down, a memorandum informs me that this is a program devoted to examining the credentials (Diplomas? Degrees? Resumes?) of foreign immigrants. That's good, but it could be less flowery.
"Allocating an additional $3.5 million over two years to offer an additional 600 graduate internships through the Industrial Research and Development Internship program launched in Budget 2007."
Just 600 internships? I know that's in addition to whatever the current number is, but that's a very low number. And the funds work out to about 5, 800 dollars per intern- is that in direct cash, is that in services provided or what?
"$20 billion in personal income tax relief"
That's 20 BILLION dollars that are not going to government services this year. (On a totally unrelated note, did you know there are seven remaining Trudeau appointees in the Senate? And one Joe Clark.)
"The Government will provide a one-time grant of $15 million to the YMCA and YWCA to place youth in internships in not-for-profit and community services organizations, with a focus on environmental projects."
That's odd choice to specify the YM and YW CAs. Christian associations, do they offer jobs to non-Christians? I have no idea.
Jean Dorion, BQ, Longueuil—Pierre-Boucher had this to say in today's session:
"The Bloc Québécois has put forward the unanimous priorities of the National Assembly of Quebec. They have been rejected by the Conservatives and the Liberals, who thus choose Canada over Quebec."
Well, yes, M. Dorion. That's because it's the FEDERAL government, not The Quebec-Centric government. What a stupid thing to say.
I need to say that, reading today's debate, one thing strikes me. It's all about the past. Each MP stands up and talk about how things were ten, fifty, a hundred years ago. The Liberals can barely say a hundred words without referencing the previous government, the Conservatives can only talk about promises they've already made, the NDP harp on about what people have said. There's this odd disconnect that nothing is in the "now".
Ruddy hip-hop.
So, there's a loong lull in Wardrobe today. I am spending my time trying to read the Budget. it has graphs!
It's not very readable.
It's not very readable.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Guffin War: Act 1 Scene 2: Like who doesn't have an interositer.
It must be said that despite his nominal criminal affiliations, Fuzzy Cicero Lumpkins hardly deserved the the abuse he was shortly about to receive. He had been born amongst a large brood of children in a teeny, nameless village that was about a two-day hike from Dogpatch, Kentucky. His father worked his entire day handcrafting spittoons, coming out of his workshop only to grunt and eat meals. His mother, a city woman who had fallen for his father after the Second World War, was a scatter-brained, ineffectual woman who could never keep track of her children, and certainly never recalled Fuzzy. The only thing about him that she had ever remembered was that "he looked nothing like Irving Thalburg". Fuzzy, unloved and certainly unwanted, fled home at what he general assumed was 17. He ended up working in the underbelly of the distillery district of Frankfort, paid to look threatening and to think as little as possible. Like many poor Fantastics of his generation, Fuzzy wound up in the service of Bluto Ricca-Accardo, who's domination of Chicago crime in the 60's allowed him to push his empire outside of Illinois and into surrounding states. Miraculously, Fuzzy managed to avoid getting embroiled in the turf wars with the New York Families, and entered the eighties alive and a basically spotless record. He remained a a low-level flunky, however. Having spent a year in house-arrest for tax issues, Bluto surprised many onlooker by bowing out early, retiring from any criminal activities. His organisation was covertly purchased by Pickles-Whiplash Industries. When Snidely "bought the Outfit", Fuzzy found himself on an actual payroll in an actual company, thought he continued to be little more than hired muscle. But now he had a pension, a health plan, and he got to travel. At this point in time, he was manning the security desk in the local PWI branch in Moneghetti, which wasn't bad for the destitute country boy from nowhere. It should be said that following the event, Fuzzy was treated for his injury, and even went on to settle down and have a happy ending. But at this juncture, his fate is to be used to block projectiles that would otherwise scuff the enamel of the PWI security desk.
It has never been explained to any one's satisfaction the why of Enzo Matrix. Even to those (admittedly few) familiar with his complete history, how he had gotten from the state of reality that was his childhood, to the Now of now, remained an utter enigma. Though neither he nor Fuzzy would have found it of interest, both of them could only guesstimate at their actual age and, like Fuzzy had once did, more-or-less assumed he was "about 17". Whatever the reason, Enzo and his uniquely green skin found himself squished into an ventilation-shaft that was located about a metre behind Fuzzy Lumpkins. The architect of the PWI building wasn't an idiot. That vent really wasn't supposed to be there. But various... nefarious elements in the building's construction demanded certain rooms be built there... and here... and there... and to accommodate, pipe and shaft security was compromised, and the protests of the very clever architect were overruled by large, burly men who could make the action of adjusting their massive ties seem threatening. Enzo was waiting for Fuzzy to go on rounds, or some such activity, but Fuzzy had discovered that the security computer was equipped with software for Mahjong. They didn't know it, but they were at a non-verbal, non-conscious stalemate. Enzo refused to go forward without Fuzzy leaving him access to the computer, and Fuzzy was unwilling to stop playing Mahjong. Unfortunately for Fuzzy, Enzo was younger, and therefore much more impatient about waiting. Fulled by a desire to complete his mission and a desperate need to go pee, Enzo resorted to kicking the grating, hard. It had been cheaply and poorly attached to its mounting, and so it was propelled much harder than Enzo had expected. It hit the back of Fuzzy's head with considerable force. In a stunning moment of utter clarity, Fuzzy perceived two thing: his mother had loved him, in her own impotent way and his current game of Mahjong was fundamentally un-winable.
"Rats." Fuzzy said aloud. And then he slowly, gracefully keeled over.
It has never been explained to any one's satisfaction the why of Enzo Matrix. Even to those (admittedly few) familiar with his complete history, how he had gotten from the state of reality that was his childhood, to the Now of now, remained an utter enigma. Though neither he nor Fuzzy would have found it of interest, both of them could only guesstimate at their actual age and, like Fuzzy had once did, more-or-less assumed he was "about 17". Whatever the reason, Enzo and his uniquely green skin found himself squished into an ventilation-shaft that was located about a metre behind Fuzzy Lumpkins. The architect of the PWI building wasn't an idiot. That vent really wasn't supposed to be there. But various... nefarious elements in the building's construction demanded certain rooms be built there... and here... and there... and to accommodate, pipe and shaft security was compromised, and the protests of the very clever architect were overruled by large, burly men who could make the action of adjusting their massive ties seem threatening. Enzo was waiting for Fuzzy to go on rounds, or some such activity, but Fuzzy had discovered that the security computer was equipped with software for Mahjong. They didn't know it, but they were at a non-verbal, non-conscious stalemate. Enzo refused to go forward without Fuzzy leaving him access to the computer, and Fuzzy was unwilling to stop playing Mahjong. Unfortunately for Fuzzy, Enzo was younger, and therefore much more impatient about waiting. Fulled by a desire to complete his mission and a desperate need to go pee, Enzo resorted to kicking the grating, hard. It had been cheaply and poorly attached to its mounting, and so it was propelled much harder than Enzo had expected. It hit the back of Fuzzy's head with considerable force. In a stunning moment of utter clarity, Fuzzy perceived two thing: his mother had loved him, in her own impotent way and his current game of Mahjong was fundamentally un-winable.
"Rats." Fuzzy said aloud. And then he slowly, gracefully keeled over.
New Chapter
I do plan to write a new chapter, but I must ask this question for the comments. To all three/fourish of my readers, do any of you actual read it? I mean, am I just writing it for my own amusement? I'll keep writing it (I LIKE my own amusement), I'm just curious as to whom cares.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Happy New Years
Well, Happy New Years, which so far looks to be exactly like 2008. York University has been provincially ordered back to work, so 45000 students lost an entire semester's worth of money and time and education, and all.. for... nothing. Because nothing was resolved, nothing was changed. In Ottawa, the coalition falls apart and Harper returns to unchallenged government. Unemployment has risen to 12.1 percent, but a small headline today noted that the payment of bonus will proceed uninhibited. That's one of the same overspending madness that brought us here in the first place. And for all his talk of change, for all his talk of a new order, Obama still let that vile, intolerant Rick Warren officiate at his inauguration. So hurray for change. Hooray for this brave new world of sameness, identical in all ways to the year before.
And the thing is, it's all our fault. Because Canadians couldn't be bothered to understand their own electoral process. It takes no effort to find information these days, it's the God-Damned Information AGE. A few quick jabs at the keyboard will find you tonnes of information on how the government works. History gives us coalitions. But we feared it, because we only listened to our elected officials, who acted so contradictory and foolish that no wonder we felt afraid. Politicians can feel this. They can feel the undercurrents of society, and they act on it. A good person does what is right. A good politician does what he can to stay aloft. Michelle Jean had a change to act as the Constitution and precedent empowers her to do, but she crumpled under the weight of "doing what the public wanted", which was act as a figure head and do only as the Prime Minister wants. Poor Dion was forced out, because of the grudges of his own people, not for any lack of competence, and in strides the pompous Ignatieff. Ignatieff doesn't want a coalition, it's not his idea, the credit doesn't go to him. So he chooses to dissolve it, to satisfy the cowards of his own party who don't want to upset the status quo AT ANY COST. The cost, of course, is Stephen Harper reigns again unchallenged.
I don't believe Stephen Harper is evil. He is not some mindless robot, or spawn of Satan, or twisted monster that some have described him to be. To do that, we would do the exact same thing we did with the Bush presidency, where we only looked at the caricature, the parody, and we ignored the true threat of the man time and time again, because we called him a puppet and a fool. A clown. And so the dancing, prancing fool of a piper led the children out of Hamlin and down into the river, where they followed him laughing at his idiocy, and the water came over their heads and they drowned. To accept the hyperbole of Harper is to deeply, deeply underestimate the man. No, Harper is something far worse. He is simply a man who is utterly, unequivocally wrong. He is firm, unbending in his mental convictions, no matter how he bends to placate the public. Harper is simply wrong, and he is leading us into this new era of status quo.
So, Happy New Year, here at the end of January. Onwards and around.
And the thing is, it's all our fault. Because Canadians couldn't be bothered to understand their own electoral process. It takes no effort to find information these days, it's the God-Damned Information AGE. A few quick jabs at the keyboard will find you tonnes of information on how the government works. History gives us coalitions. But we feared it, because we only listened to our elected officials, who acted so contradictory and foolish that no wonder we felt afraid. Politicians can feel this. They can feel the undercurrents of society, and they act on it. A good person does what is right. A good politician does what he can to stay aloft. Michelle Jean had a change to act as the Constitution and precedent empowers her to do, but she crumpled under the weight of "doing what the public wanted", which was act as a figure head and do only as the Prime Minister wants. Poor Dion was forced out, because of the grudges of his own people, not for any lack of competence, and in strides the pompous Ignatieff. Ignatieff doesn't want a coalition, it's not his idea, the credit doesn't go to him. So he chooses to dissolve it, to satisfy the cowards of his own party who don't want to upset the status quo AT ANY COST. The cost, of course, is Stephen Harper reigns again unchallenged.
I don't believe Stephen Harper is evil. He is not some mindless robot, or spawn of Satan, or twisted monster that some have described him to be. To do that, we would do the exact same thing we did with the Bush presidency, where we only looked at the caricature, the parody, and we ignored the true threat of the man time and time again, because we called him a puppet and a fool. A clown. And so the dancing, prancing fool of a piper led the children out of Hamlin and down into the river, where they followed him laughing at his idiocy, and the water came over their heads and they drowned. To accept the hyperbole of Harper is to deeply, deeply underestimate the man. No, Harper is something far worse. He is simply a man who is utterly, unequivocally wrong. He is firm, unbending in his mental convictions, no matter how he bends to placate the public. Harper is simply wrong, and he is leading us into this new era of status quo.
So, Happy New Year, here at the end of January. Onwards and around.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The Adventures of the Average People
Do I need to buy The Time Chasers Special Anniversary DVD?
No. No I do not.
But I want to. I sincerely, sincerely want too. I can't give yo a decent reason why. I mean, this is a terrible film, but I have loving watched it on MST3K many a time, watching Nick and his massive bum chin prance about the country side in a Castleton T-shirt, getting his girlfriend shot, himself killed, his boss killed and crashing two aircraft. But it all turn out okay, 'cause of time and terrible 80's plaid and stuff. And in the end, that's what really matters, right?
No. No I do not.
But I want to. I sincerely, sincerely want too. I can't give yo a decent reason why. I mean, this is a terrible film, but I have loving watched it on MST3K many a time, watching Nick and his massive bum chin prance about the country side in a Castleton T-shirt, getting his girlfriend shot, himself killed, his boss killed and crashing two aircraft. But it all turn out okay, 'cause of time and terrible 80's plaid and stuff. And in the end, that's what really matters, right?
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