For Immediate Release
from the Office of the Press Secretary for the House Mackay
Let it be known throughout the domain, and let it be heard far and wide, the youngest son of John and Lori Mackay has yet again found himself a girlfriend. Girlfriend is a noun that means "favoured female companion or sweetheart" according to The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Them's big words. The House Mackay would request that paparazi and news media give the couple space and room to allow the relationship to flourish. All requests for comment may be directed to the office of the Press Secretary. The Lord and his Lady were heard to have said "Matthew's got a girlfriend, Matthew's got a girlfriend" in tones not unlike those used in first grade when mocking a friend. There is no further comment from the family at this time.
Thank you.
Andrew Mackay,
Press Secretary and Public Relations Guru
The House Mackay
...cause Mackay means Sons of Thunder, and we ain't messin' around.
Manu Forte
20050124
20050122
the heart is a liar
Hello friends. I've been thinking about my heart lately. I'm not quite sure what sparked it, but something today made me start to think about my heart and the way it is. Scripture says that the heart is deceptive above all things. Desperately Wicked. Desperately. That's a big word. A heavy word even. Man alive, I think we need to discipline our hearts. We have these songs and books and cliched slogans that tell us to follow our hearts. (Napoleon says: "That's what I do.") There's a problem with all that, cause sometimes our hearts run away with us. I guess it's easier for me to acknowledge it when it's not happening. My little brother has acknowledged it too, and maybe it's a family trait, but if I survey the last 3 years, I've had a ridiculous amount of shallow crushes. And, while most of them didn't last long, it's not a good thing. It's evidence in my case of a heart that tends to flit. Flit is a girly word that means jump from object to object. That's not a good thing for a heart to do. It displays little faithfulness. It needs to change. How do you whip your heart into shape? I just don't know. All right, that's enough despairing, bleeding heart crap from this kid. Peace out.
disclaimer: the above piece is perhaps a bit of an overstatement; the writer realizes that a lot of his petty crushes over the years were pathetic, and wishes that they'd never happened. That being said, the heart is always an interesting beast.
disclaimer: the above piece is perhaps a bit of an overstatement; the writer realizes that a lot of his petty crushes over the years were pathetic, and wishes that they'd never happened. That being said, the heart is always an interesting beast.
20050121
independent music
Hi guys,
I've been listening to some music tonight, and I've realized that independent musicians really do beat the pants off most of the ones who are signed to the labels (with the few exceptions of artists who do their own thing inspite of a record deal, like Derek Webb). I thought i'd draw your attention to some cool musicians who sell stuff on the net and give away free songs too.
Andrew Peterson. He looks precisely like one of my good friend's boyfriends. Bonus points if you can tell me who. This guy writes PHENOMENAL stories. He's so good. He does a Christmas musical every year. If you have high speed and want to watch andrew play great songs along with a bunch of his friends, go to the livefromstudiob website, and click on the watch this video link. This is phenomenal music. Oh yeah, if you buy one of Andy's CDs from his website, guess how much of the money he gets? Not just fifty cents or something, the whole proceeds go to him. That's cool.
Andrew Osenga. This guy isn't foreign to the world of having record deals - he was the front man for a cool band called The Normals, and now he plays with Caedmon's Call... he's pretty phenomenal. What's neatest is that he's got this thing called "The Drawing Board" and he gives away rough cuts of songs he's working on. He's great. Listen to him. And oh yeah, if you buy one of this Andy's CDs from his website, again, he gets the proceeds. That's cool too.
The cool thing about the above two guys is that they don't exist in a vacuum. They're musicians, and they like good music too. So, if you click on their links pages on their respective web sites, you'll find (I just made a consistency issue, I technically mispelt website earlier by putting it together—technicalyl wrong, but envogue, and then just now I split it, which is technically proper) a list of musicians that they listen to/play with / hang out with. And the whole thing continues, cause those people do the same thing. That's community. These folks are REAL artists. They rock. And their music is pretty darn good, too.
All right, that's it for me... for now.
I've been listening to some music tonight, and I've realized that independent musicians really do beat the pants off most of the ones who are signed to the labels (with the few exceptions of artists who do their own thing inspite of a record deal, like Derek Webb). I thought i'd draw your attention to some cool musicians who sell stuff on the net and give away free songs too.
Andrew Peterson. He looks precisely like one of my good friend's boyfriends. Bonus points if you can tell me who. This guy writes PHENOMENAL stories. He's so good. He does a Christmas musical every year. If you have high speed and want to watch andrew play great songs along with a bunch of his friends, go to the livefromstudiob website, and click on the watch this video link. This is phenomenal music. Oh yeah, if you buy one of Andy's CDs from his website, guess how much of the money he gets? Not just fifty cents or something, the whole proceeds go to him. That's cool.
Andrew Osenga. This guy isn't foreign to the world of having record deals - he was the front man for a cool band called The Normals, and now he plays with Caedmon's Call... he's pretty phenomenal. What's neatest is that he's got this thing called "The Drawing Board" and he gives away rough cuts of songs he's working on. He's great. Listen to him. And oh yeah, if you buy one of this Andy's CDs from his website, again, he gets the proceeds. That's cool too.
The cool thing about the above two guys is that they don't exist in a vacuum. They're musicians, and they like good music too. So, if you click on their links pages on their respective web sites, you'll find (I just made a consistency issue, I technically mispelt website earlier by putting it together—technicalyl wrong, but envogue, and then just now I split it, which is technically proper) a list of musicians that they listen to/play with / hang out with. And the whole thing continues, cause those people do the same thing. That's community. These folks are REAL artists. They rock. And their music is pretty darn good, too.
All right, that's it for me... for now.
20050110
while the world turned
now playing: Shane and Shane, Psalm 118. They're pretty talented.
Yes, whilest the rest of us led our pathetic, normal life, 25 extreme guys were potentially fulfilling their destiny... who would receive a rose and who's egos would be shattered? Thats right folks, I just watched about 7.8 minutes of the bachelorette. Wow. Thats really just about my only response. All of those guys suffer from one of three things: they're either 1) convinced that this is their chance to get their 15 minutes of fame, 2) in it for the money, or 3) as one of my favorite professors would say, Delusional. Cause seriously, this chica, whatever her name is (jen, I think), has been through this before - she KNOWS it doesn't end up with a successful match. Either she's in it for the money or she's there to extend her 15 minutes of fame to 20. And those poor chaps who really believe they have a chance are being duped.
We are a world OBSESSED with ourselves. You see it on dating shows like this and you see it on American Idol and its knock-offs... especially when they show the clips of people who are awful - notice that everyone seems to share one trait: confidence that they really are the best, and can win this thing. There's still something to be said for someone who is self-aware AS WELL as self assured, or instead of self assured, or something. Cause, lets face it... we're not all cut out to be actors or pop music stars / starlets. But you know what, not everyone's cut out to be a welder or an editor or a pastor, or whatever. Man alive! But, we're all so programmed to believe in ourselves, to be self-confident. Really, aren't we sabatoging ourselves? Anyway, I'm sure that I've got reruns of survivor to watch or something. I'll catch you guys later—if you get your own reality show.
Yes, whilest the rest of us led our pathetic, normal life, 25 extreme guys were potentially fulfilling their destiny... who would receive a rose and who's egos would be shattered? Thats right folks, I just watched about 7.8 minutes of the bachelorette. Wow. Thats really just about my only response. All of those guys suffer from one of three things: they're either 1) convinced that this is their chance to get their 15 minutes of fame, 2) in it for the money, or 3) as one of my favorite professors would say, Delusional. Cause seriously, this chica, whatever her name is (jen, I think), has been through this before - she KNOWS it doesn't end up with a successful match. Either she's in it for the money or she's there to extend her 15 minutes of fame to 20. And those poor chaps who really believe they have a chance are being duped.
We are a world OBSESSED with ourselves. You see it on dating shows like this and you see it on American Idol and its knock-offs... especially when they show the clips of people who are awful - notice that everyone seems to share one trait: confidence that they really are the best, and can win this thing. There's still something to be said for someone who is self-aware AS WELL as self assured, or instead of self assured, or something. Cause, lets face it... we're not all cut out to be actors or pop music stars / starlets. But you know what, not everyone's cut out to be a welder or an editor or a pastor, or whatever. Man alive! But, we're all so programmed to believe in ourselves, to be self-confident. Really, aren't we sabatoging ourselves? Anyway, I'm sure that I've got reruns of survivor to watch or something. I'll catch you guys later—if you get your own reality show.
20050106
All Points Bulletin: Sugar Bandit on the Loose
This is a notice from the office of the director for home security.
Current warning level: hot pink. Everybody loves hot pink.
This memo is intended to inform the public of a growing menace known as the Sugar Bandit. He was brought to our attention by one of our operatives, codenamed Agent Mom. Agent Mom reports that the Sugar Bandit leaves sugar all over the counter and floor. What could cause someone to do such a heinous thing? The only thing we can think of is a sick, twisted mind. We've run a psych profile, and it seems likely that the sugar bandit is a Male, possibly Caucasian, probably in his early 20s. He should be regarded as armed and dangerous. Or sickeningly sweet. The public is advised to pass any and all tips along to our tip number: 1 888 bandito. If you think you know who the Sugar Bandit is, do not approach him... he could inflict harm at the slightest provocation. Beware the Sugar Bandit.
Thank you. This has been a public service notice.
My name is andymack, and I approved this message.
Current warning level: hot pink. Everybody loves hot pink.
This memo is intended to inform the public of a growing menace known as the Sugar Bandit. He was brought to our attention by one of our operatives, codenamed Agent Mom. Agent Mom reports that the Sugar Bandit leaves sugar all over the counter and floor. What could cause someone to do such a heinous thing? The only thing we can think of is a sick, twisted mind. We've run a psych profile, and it seems likely that the sugar bandit is a Male, possibly Caucasian, probably in his early 20s. He should be regarded as armed and dangerous. Or sickeningly sweet. The public is advised to pass any and all tips along to our tip number: 1 888 bandito. If you think you know who the Sugar Bandit is, do not approach him... he could inflict harm at the slightest provocation. Beware the Sugar Bandit.
Thank you. This has been a public service notice.
My name is andymack, and I approved this message.
20050105
hero (plural)
Dear Friends,
This will not be a long blog post. This is just a quick note to say that I'm finding a lot of human life consists of evaluating, then re-evaluating and adjusting. Generically, that is true. Specifically, today it is true of what I view as heroic. By definition we think of heroic as a one-time, out of the blue action that really kicks butt. Like Hulk Hogan lifting up Andre the Giant, or that guy beating the chess computer, or a fireman saving a kid from a burning building, and stuff like that. What I realized tonight is that it's not the one time act that makes those people heroes. It's the persistence that gets them there. I realized this as I woke my dad up to go to work. My dad isn't the most athletic guy, my dad isn't the fastest... he might be the craziest, but that's another story. But my dad has, for the last 11 or so years, spent his life with kids who are like he was once -- young, deaf, alienated a little bit from their families by communications barriers. Kids who need role models and authority figures who are encouraging but not afraid to establish boundaries either. My dad is one of my heros. Sure, he can't leap tall buildings. He can't lift a billion pounds over his head. He can't even beat me in a mercy fight any more (but keep that on the down low). But day in, day out (or, as it goes currently, night in, night out), he does what he can to help his community, the deaf community, develop. At the same time, he provides for his family, loves us, and even spoils us as much as he can. So, stop looking at heroics in terms of one-time acts. Start thinking about it in terms of patient, persistent people. I think it's more accurate.
This will not be a long blog post. This is just a quick note to say that I'm finding a lot of human life consists of evaluating, then re-evaluating and adjusting. Generically, that is true. Specifically, today it is true of what I view as heroic. By definition we think of heroic as a one-time, out of the blue action that really kicks butt. Like Hulk Hogan lifting up Andre the Giant, or that guy beating the chess computer, or a fireman saving a kid from a burning building, and stuff like that. What I realized tonight is that it's not the one time act that makes those people heroes. It's the persistence that gets them there. I realized this as I woke my dad up to go to work. My dad isn't the most athletic guy, my dad isn't the fastest... he might be the craziest, but that's another story. But my dad has, for the last 11 or so years, spent his life with kids who are like he was once -- young, deaf, alienated a little bit from their families by communications barriers. Kids who need role models and authority figures who are encouraging but not afraid to establish boundaries either. My dad is one of my heros. Sure, he can't leap tall buildings. He can't lift a billion pounds over his head. He can't even beat me in a mercy fight any more (but keep that on the down low). But day in, day out (or, as it goes currently, night in, night out), he does what he can to help his community, the deaf community, develop. At the same time, he provides for his family, loves us, and even spoils us as much as he can. So, stop looking at heroics in terms of one-time acts. Start thinking about it in terms of patient, persistent people. I think it's more accurate.
20050104
thoughts from a man smarter (and possibly more verbose) than I
Dear friends,
I'm currently trying to read David Wells' second book on modernity and it's impact on the church, God in the Wasteland. I recommend him if you want a big brainful of thinking. This thought has occupied my brain off and on for the past few days; I thought maybe you guys would appreciate it too.
"... A curious paradox involving the way in which biblical other-worldliness provides the leverage for Christian this-worldly pertinence. It is only those who are "not of this world" in their inner being who have the reason and acquire the fortitude to resist the charms and allurements of the world and who, for that reason, are able to be culturally pertinent. Those who are cognitively and morally dislocated from worldly culture are the ones who are driven to change it; those who are comfortable and at home with it... are often so beholden to it as to find dislocation from the source of their blessings most uncongenial." (david f. wells, God in the Wasteland, Ch. 3)
How 'bout that? I think he may be on to something. Although, I did just figure out that he's post-mil. I guess that doesn't prevent him from having something to say. ;-) Think about it. Tell me what you think. Maybe we can interact on this one a bit. That'd be cool. Do you think that culture is absolutely so tainted that unless we're dislocated from it, we're smitten with it? I leave it with you.
I'm currently trying to read David Wells' second book on modernity and it's impact on the church, God in the Wasteland. I recommend him if you want a big brainful of thinking. This thought has occupied my brain off and on for the past few days; I thought maybe you guys would appreciate it too.
"... A curious paradox involving the way in which biblical other-worldliness provides the leverage for Christian this-worldly pertinence. It is only those who are "not of this world" in their inner being who have the reason and acquire the fortitude to resist the charms and allurements of the world and who, for that reason, are able to be culturally pertinent. Those who are cognitively and morally dislocated from worldly culture are the ones who are driven to change it; those who are comfortable and at home with it... are often so beholden to it as to find dislocation from the source of their blessings most uncongenial." (david f. wells, God in the Wasteland, Ch. 3)
How 'bout that? I think he may be on to something. Although, I did just figure out that he's post-mil. I guess that doesn't prevent him from having something to say. ;-) Think about it. Tell me what you think. Maybe we can interact on this one a bit. That'd be cool. Do you think that culture is absolutely so tainted that unless we're dislocated from it, we're smitten with it? I leave it with you.
20050103
refried...coffee? and songs I haven't listened to for months
Yep, I'm sitting here drinking refried... okay, okay, reheated... coffee. It's not that bad. Man, enough sugar and anything'll taste good.
Go and watch this - warning for my dial-up friends, this is a long download. I'm going to tell you what it is in a second anyway, so you may want to forgo it. The rest of you, go watch it.
I will confess that it is true that I way overplayed a certain song by Derek Webb a couple of years ago at KLBC. My poor friends who don't necessarily love his voice (the rest of us who do love his voice could listen to it a million times). Anyway, I hadn't listened to this song for a while. Tonight, I was sitting here contemplating the way I am, and my sinfulness, and how I have no apparent love for God's grace some days. And, i went on over to Donald Miller's web site (the link above) and watched the video he put together. It features scenes from Romeo and Juliet put to Wedding Dress by Derek. It starts out with the hypothesis that Shakespear's play was an illustration of the truth of reform theology. (Sidenote: I don't think that Will intended the play to be interpreted that way, but who cares.) And—as much as I don't like Romeo and Juliet—I couldn't help but see the illustration. It's a beautiful illustration. And it's very relevant especially for those of us that seem to at times make theology a dead carcass of irrelevance. So, next time you listen to that song, think about the truth of it. I know I will.
Go and watch this - warning for my dial-up friends, this is a long download. I'm going to tell you what it is in a second anyway, so you may want to forgo it. The rest of you, go watch it.
I will confess that it is true that I way overplayed a certain song by Derek Webb a couple of years ago at KLBC. My poor friends who don't necessarily love his voice (the rest of us who do love his voice could listen to it a million times). Anyway, I hadn't listened to this song for a while. Tonight, I was sitting here contemplating the way I am, and my sinfulness, and how I have no apparent love for God's grace some days. And, i went on over to Donald Miller's web site (the link above) and watched the video he put together. It features scenes from Romeo and Juliet put to Wedding Dress by Derek. It starts out with the hypothesis that Shakespear's play was an illustration of the truth of reform theology. (Sidenote: I don't think that Will intended the play to be interpreted that way, but who cares.) And—as much as I don't like Romeo and Juliet—I couldn't help but see the illustration. It's a beautiful illustration. And it's very relevant especially for those of us that seem to at times make theology a dead carcass of irrelevance. So, next time you listen to that song, think about the truth of it. I know I will.
20050102
Figurin' life out
You know, it's funny, but somehow January 1 inspires in us (or in me at least) a desire to figure life out. There's a perception that somehow, during the night between December 31 and January 1, the whole world regenerates, or becomes new, or something. Not that that's a bad thing. After all, who couldn't use a second chance? This date that we've arbitrarily (as far as I can tell) set as marking the New Year gives us that opportunity. A new year is a good thing. It's also a little bitter sweet. For me, it involves looking over the past year and seeing where I've failed spiritually, relationally, even physically (darn those 15 extra pounds I'm carrying around). I've spent over a year without a significant committed relationship (unless you count me and the boys, who should all be committed). Have I learned from that? Sure, probably a little. But have I learned everything there is to learn? Not as of yet. I've watched families fall apart. I've watched families join together. I've visited family in the hopital. I visited the hospital once for myself (and to Dr. Buntington, thanks for your help). I've laughed. I've cried. I laughed a lot more than I cried, but I inherently don't cry very often. The past year seems to have been shorter than any year in my memory. It was actually a day longer than most of the ones I remember. I'm more confused than ever by girls, but maybe, just maybe, through everything I've done and been through this year, i've learned more about myself. That is worth it. Maybe I've learned more about who God is. That is more worth it.
If I could wish for anything in 2005—for myself and for you, my friend—it'd be that in 2005 we'd believe God to be who He is. I think that every other time in my life that I've used the term "it's probably my biggest problem" could be summed up in that statement. I just don't believe that God is who He has revealed Himself to be. If I did, all those other things, like discipline, faithfulness, obedience, joy, graciousness, and so on, wouldn't be at all a problem. Okay, Okay, wouldn't be as much a problem.
So, until I see you next :
If I could wish for anything in 2005—for myself and for you, my friend—it'd be that in 2005 we'd believe God to be who He is. I think that every other time in my life that I've used the term "it's probably my biggest problem" could be summed up in that statement. I just don't believe that God is who He has revealed Himself to be. If I did, all those other things, like discipline, faithfulness, obedience, joy, graciousness, and so on, wouldn't be at all a problem. Okay, Okay, wouldn't be as much a problem.
So, until I see you next :
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
"The LORD is my portion," says my soul,
"therefore I will hope in him."
(Lamentations 3:22-24, ESV)
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
"The LORD is my portion," says my soul,
"therefore I will hope in him."
(Lamentations 3:22-24, ESV)
You don't have to wait for January 1st to come back around before you can get a new start.
20041209
hokey shmokes
All due respect to my american friends, I'm going to presume that we can all agree that this ann coulter chick is an idiot. Watch this: Now, seriously, to America. Yes, you may be bigger people wise, you may have more money than we do. Congratulations. Please though, don't act like we exist at your mercy. There are 30 million of us. I'm pretty sure we don't exist as a nation at anybody's mercy. If anything, you could say that we're dumb to sell as much as we do to you guys. A sound national economic policy would limit exports to y'all to, maximum, 10-15%. Not out of dislike for anyone, but in the name of economic freedom. I hope that most americans wouldn't agree with the pompous attitude presented in this clip. You'd have to kill at least 2 million of us to take over the country I'm pretty sure. Unless you came through Quebec. Anyway, I found the above clip disgusting and frustrating. Except for the part at the end where Caroline Parrish ripped into the crossfire guy. That was awesome. Anyway.
20041208
Christmas Shopping: not for the elderly nor the faint at heart.
In honour of the topic of the night, I'm listening to Bing Crosby croon some Christmas Tunes. His pianist—or band leader, or water boy, or something— is named Skitch. Is that Skitch Patterson? Who knows! Could be! Beauty.
So, I was out doing some Christmas shopping, and let me tell you, it's a dog eat dog world out there. Or at least, a dog eat effeminate acting sales person world out there. Christmas shopping isn't easy! You gotta figure out what you're getting people for Christmas, and darn it, it's just hard. Plus, i don't think I've ever been so afraid of toddlers and their moms. It's like the toddlers are the Storm Troopers from Star Wars and their moms... frig, who knew that the emperor could exist in that many incarnations. Tell you what, if we could control the toddlers, and harness their whining and screaming, we'd be able to take over the world. Holy cow. I just finally understood the entire toy industry!
Then, on top of that, you've got the media pressure. Canada.com is running their Holiday special. They talk about bad gifts and good gifts. Gee, thanks Canada.com, for doing that out of the goodness of your hearts. Not like the rest of the media doing it just to try to weasal more cash out of us or their advertisers. You can read that section here, then you'll at least be doing better than the 13% of Canadians who have REGIFTED in the last year. C'mon folks. Seriously. Anyway, it seems like everyone who ever gets a pedestal in culture tries to tell us what to buy for Christmas. I mean, really, who could forget The Twelve Days of Christmas from the Great White North Album, performed by Bob and Doug Mackenzie? Wait, you don't know it? Well, we'll have to remedy that! Here, thanks to the wonderful world wide web, are the lyrics to the aforementioned song. This features some classic Canadian gift ideas. Hehe. Beauty:
Bob: Ok g'day. This is the Christmas part of the album, you can play this at your Christmas partys uh, or to yourself on Christmas eve if there is nothing else to do
Doug: G'day eh? in case you thought like I wasn't on this part.
Bob: Oh i guaranty ya, you'd be on.
Ok so good day, this is the Christmas part, and we're gonna tell ya what to get your true love for Christmas.
Doug: Look out the window!
bob: Where? Whaddya doin?
Doug:Snow!
Bob: Oh it's the great white north, and it's snowin cuz its Christmas time.
Hey, hoser! heres a quiz.. quiz for Doug:
Doug: Ok, I got my thinking toque on!
Bob: Yeah, right. What are the 12 days of Christmas?
Doug: Um.
Bob: Cuz figure it out , right? Christmas is when?
Doug: The 25th.
Bob: Right, well whats the 24th? Xmas eve, right.
Doug: Thats 2.
Bob: Then , whats after that?
Doug: Wrestling day
Bob: No.
Doug: Boxing day.
Bob: Thats 3. Then whats after that? Nothin'.
Doug: New years.
Bob: 4.
Doug: New years eve.
Bob: 5. Where da ya get 12?
Doug: Uh... theres 2 sat's and sun's in there , 4. Thats 9 and 3 other days which i believe are the mystery days.
Bob:Ok, this is our Christmas song, in case ya don't know what to get someone for Christmas.
Doug: Theres lotsa ideas in here, so listen and don't get stuck. By the way , thats me on the organ.
Bob: Ok geeze.
Doug: Ok, you start.
Song Lyrics
Bob: Ok, on the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
beer.
On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
2 turtlenecks,
and beer.
On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and a beer.
There should be more there, eh?
Where?
On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
Oh. See? ya need more.
On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
5 GOLDEN TOQUES! (background singers start to help)
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
6 packs of two-four.
5 GOLDEN TOQUES!
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
Ok.
On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
7 packs of smokes,
Nice Gift... oh.... (rushes) 6 packs of 24s
5 GOLDEN TOQUES!
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
oh, i keep forgettin'.
whew, this should be just the 2 days of xmas, this is too hard for us!
On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
8 comic books,
7 packs of smokes,
6 packs of two-four,
5 GOLDEN TOQUES!
4lbs of backbacon, (background singers)
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
Wow,That beers empty
Day 12.
G'day and welcome to day 12.
Yeah.
5 GOLDEN TOQUES! (all together)
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tre-e. (Doug harmonizes)
Where did you learn to do that?
Uh, Albums.
Boy, so thats our song merry Christmas, and g'day.
G'day everybody. Happy new years.
Ok, ya know what ya left out?
What?
Donuts. I told you to get me donuts.
Oh no!
Either on the 9th day, or the 10th day or the 11th day. I wanted donuts.
The song is over merry Christmas everybody,
or the 12th you coulda gotten me a dozen donuts.
Go to the stores and get some presents.
You coulda gone down to the donut shop where you buy a dozen donuts, you get another donut free. Then it coulda been 13 for the 13 days of Christmas.
Next Christmas, get me a chainsaw.
Take off!
Boy that song was a beauty.. it moved me.
Yah , it ranks up there with stairway to heaven.
What?
As a disclaimer, I don't recommend most of those as presents, although 4 pounds of back bacon would be beauty. So, yeah, like, that's it for me. That should be everything you need to go out and do your Christmas Shopping. Or at least to get a bit of a laugh outa good ol' andymack the teetotaler's blog. :-)
BEAUTY
So, I was out doing some Christmas shopping, and let me tell you, it's a dog eat dog world out there. Or at least, a dog eat effeminate acting sales person world out there. Christmas shopping isn't easy! You gotta figure out what you're getting people for Christmas, and darn it, it's just hard. Plus, i don't think I've ever been so afraid of toddlers and their moms. It's like the toddlers are the Storm Troopers from Star Wars and their moms... frig, who knew that the emperor could exist in that many incarnations. Tell you what, if we could control the toddlers, and harness their whining and screaming, we'd be able to take over the world. Holy cow. I just finally understood the entire toy industry!
Then, on top of that, you've got the media pressure. Canada.com is running their Holiday special. They talk about bad gifts and good gifts. Gee, thanks Canada.com, for doing that out of the goodness of your hearts. Not like the rest of the media doing it just to try to weasal more cash out of us or their advertisers. You can read that section here, then you'll at least be doing better than the 13% of Canadians who have REGIFTED in the last year. C'mon folks. Seriously. Anyway, it seems like everyone who ever gets a pedestal in culture tries to tell us what to buy for Christmas. I mean, really, who could forget The Twelve Days of Christmas from the Great White North Album, performed by Bob and Doug Mackenzie? Wait, you don't know it? Well, we'll have to remedy that! Here, thanks to the wonderful world wide web, are the lyrics to the aforementioned song. This features some classic Canadian gift ideas. Hehe. Beauty:
Bob: Ok g'day. This is the Christmas part of the album, you can play this at your Christmas partys uh, or to yourself on Christmas eve if there is nothing else to do
Doug: G'day eh? in case you thought like I wasn't on this part.
Bob: Oh i guaranty ya, you'd be on.
Ok so good day, this is the Christmas part, and we're gonna tell ya what to get your true love for Christmas.
Doug: Look out the window!
bob: Where? Whaddya doin?
Doug:Snow!
Bob: Oh it's the great white north, and it's snowin cuz its Christmas time.
Hey, hoser! heres a quiz.. quiz for Doug:
Doug: Ok, I got my thinking toque on!
Bob: Yeah, right. What are the 12 days of Christmas?
Doug: Um.
Bob: Cuz figure it out , right? Christmas is when?
Doug: The 25th.
Bob: Right, well whats the 24th? Xmas eve, right.
Doug: Thats 2.
Bob: Then , whats after that?
Doug: Wrestling day
Bob: No.
Doug: Boxing day.
Bob: Thats 3. Then whats after that? Nothin'.
Doug: New years.
Bob: 4.
Doug: New years eve.
Bob: 5. Where da ya get 12?
Doug: Uh... theres 2 sat's and sun's in there , 4. Thats 9 and 3 other days which i believe are the mystery days.
Bob:Ok, this is our Christmas song, in case ya don't know what to get someone for Christmas.
Doug: Theres lotsa ideas in here, so listen and don't get stuck. By the way , thats me on the organ.
Bob: Ok geeze.
Doug: Ok, you start.
Song Lyrics
Bob: Ok, on the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
beer.
On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
2 turtlenecks,
and beer.
On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and a beer.
There should be more there, eh?
Where?
On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
Oh. See? ya need more.
On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
5 GOLDEN TOQUES! (background singers start to help)
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
6 packs of two-four.
5 GOLDEN TOQUES!
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
Ok.
On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
7 packs of smokes,
Nice Gift... oh.... (rushes) 6 packs of 24s
5 GOLDEN TOQUES!
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
oh, i keep forgettin'.
whew, this should be just the 2 days of xmas, this is too hard for us!
On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..
8 comic books,
7 packs of smokes,
6 packs of two-four,
5 GOLDEN TOQUES!
4lbs of backbacon, (background singers)
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tree.
Wow,That beers empty
Day 12.
G'day and welcome to day 12.
Yeah.
5 GOLDEN TOQUES! (all together)
4lbs of backbacon,
3 french toast,
2 turtlenecks,
and beer in a tre-e. (Doug harmonizes)
Where did you learn to do that?
Uh, Albums.
Boy, so thats our song merry Christmas, and g'day.
G'day everybody. Happy new years.
Ok, ya know what ya left out?
What?
Donuts. I told you to get me donuts.
Oh no!
Either on the 9th day, or the 10th day or the 11th day. I wanted donuts.
The song is over merry Christmas everybody,
or the 12th you coulda gotten me a dozen donuts.
Go to the stores and get some presents.
You coulda gone down to the donut shop where you buy a dozen donuts, you get another donut free. Then it coulda been 13 for the 13 days of Christmas.
Next Christmas, get me a chainsaw.
Take off!
Boy that song was a beauty.. it moved me.
Yah , it ranks up there with stairway to heaven.
What?
As a disclaimer, I don't recommend most of those as presents, although 4 pounds of back bacon would be beauty. So, yeah, like, that's it for me. That should be everything you need to go out and do your Christmas Shopping. Or at least to get a bit of a laugh outa good ol' andymack the teetotaler's blog. :-)
BEAUTY
20041203
vandals... possibly in sandals
Dear friends. I'm taking this time to write to you from my grieving state. This morning, our neighbourhood, nay, our whole city, was rocked by a vandalous attack. White fluffy stuff was blown all over every inch of our city (okay, except the area in the lee of the north west area of every building). These attacks are shocking, and as a city we are standing up and saying "No" to vandalism. These attempts to intimidate us will not be tolerated. The perpetrator of these heinous attacks is asked to make a full confession, after which we can discuss the terms of the reparations. Think Versailles. Again, we will not stand for this. Cities across this nation will join the outcry.
Nah, for now, most people are going to be like, "Oooh, pretty." So, I guess I take that all back. Thanks for snow, God. Now, where did I leave that gas can? I think I need to go start that snowblower.
Nah, for now, most people are going to be like, "Oooh, pretty." So, I guess I take that all back. Thanks for snow, God. Now, where did I leave that gas can? I think I need to go start that snowblower.
20041201
indigo, celebrities, and undisciplined people
(now playing: shame on you // the indigo girls. I think they just made a swear.)
Well, I'm back. But I won't survive (sorry, everytime I say "and now I'm back...") I think of that stupid "I will survive" song. Anyway... righ...tuh. A little rusty, I apologize.
So, I've been thinking about this for a couple of days... everybody's all anti-animal-testing. Me too. As of yesterday morning, when I realized that there was something more pathetic that we could test chemicals on. Namely: Celebrities.
Now you're saying, "Celebrities? Be SERIOUS Mackay. Those people have AGENTS to protect them." And I'm saying, first of all, I've done some research, and I know can say with authority: There is a big difference between an FBI agent and a HOLLYWOOD agent. One carries a gun and the authority of George Bush. The other eats granola for breakfast, and carries the authority of George Clooney (whom I hate (Sorry George.)). Anyway, you're getting me off track. Further to my earlier point, celebrities have ALREADY set up a system whereby we can test them with their tacit approval. See, if I walk into my favorite guitar store and I want to get a new guitar, I'm expected to pay near-to-full price. If Hanson (okay, bad example) walks into my favorite guitar store (Neil Young would be a better example, since he probably has walked into my favorite guitar store. Typically he shops at Ed's more, but whatever Neil) and wants to get a new guitar, they hand it to him. He's a celebrity. He gets it for free, they get publicity.
Lets face it folks, celebrities are used to taking hand outs. We've conditioned them, what with our undeserved and undiscriminating worship of them, and the way they get handed everything on a platter, how would they be able to tell that the thing was a test product? It's all in the approach!!! For example:
Representative for Chemical company XYZ Uraniums, Bob: Mr. Clooney, Mr. Clooney, how 'bout a year's supply of our brand new, ultra-cutting edge "Face Firmer Five Billion" cream cleanser and daily facial moisturizer?
(to clarify, those product names aren't from real products, and also, I don't know what it would mean if they were.)
Clooney: Yeah, sure, why not? More free stuff from my adoring public? I'd love to!!!
later on that night...
Clooney, to self in mirror: Hey good looking! Hmm, this new daily moisturizer kinda tickles funny. I wonder what's in this stuff? Hmm, it just says "Experimental Ingredients." Must be really new wave.
The next morning...
Clooney, waking up: My face feels swollen and weird. I wonder... *Looks at self in mirror, sees Rosie O'Donnell looking back at him* Holy *%$#. I'm calling my agent!
That afternoon...
Ron Ithinkimsohot, agent for George Clooney: Bob, that cutting edge daily facial moisturizer and cream cleanser really did a number on George's face. What the heck is up with that?
Bob: Well, it is an experimental thing. Heck, it's based on a Uranium Extract. We didn't know what it'd do, thanks for the data.
Ron: What? Experimental? Do you think Clooney's some sorta guinea pig?
Bob: Well, I was pretty convinced that Batman and Robin was an experiment in making the worst movie, so Mr. Clooney was the obvious first choice in our new celebrity program. Regardless, it was marked clearly in the packaging. Gee whiz, Ron, don't get so defensive of your client. He'll recover in a couple of days. Meanwhile, you can bill him $400 for this 20 second call.
Ron: You make a great point. Talk to ya soon?
Bob: yeah, we'll do lunch. Catch ya later, i'm off to pitch to Jodie Foster.
Think about it folks! No bunnies were harmed in the making of this chemical compound... only the people that we overpay by far to play "make believe" for a few days in front of a camera so that we can ignore each other and suspend reality for—if we're lucky—two or three hours.
Anyway, that's it for me, for now. I'll try to be more disciplined, just for you mom, since you're the person who reads this. :-)
Well, I'm back. But I won't survive (sorry, everytime I say "and now I'm back...") I think of that stupid "I will survive" song. Anyway... righ...tuh. A little rusty, I apologize.
So, I've been thinking about this for a couple of days... everybody's all anti-animal-testing. Me too. As of yesterday morning, when I realized that there was something more pathetic that we could test chemicals on. Namely: Celebrities.
Now you're saying, "Celebrities? Be SERIOUS Mackay. Those people have AGENTS to protect them." And I'm saying, first of all, I've done some research, and I know can say with authority: There is a big difference between an FBI agent and a HOLLYWOOD agent. One carries a gun and the authority of George Bush. The other eats granola for breakfast, and carries the authority of George Clooney (whom I hate (Sorry George.)). Anyway, you're getting me off track. Further to my earlier point, celebrities have ALREADY set up a system whereby we can test them with their tacit approval. See, if I walk into my favorite guitar store and I want to get a new guitar, I'm expected to pay near-to-full price. If Hanson (okay, bad example) walks into my favorite guitar store (Neil Young would be a better example, since he probably has walked into my favorite guitar store. Typically he shops at Ed's more, but whatever Neil) and wants to get a new guitar, they hand it to him. He's a celebrity. He gets it for free, they get publicity.
Lets face it folks, celebrities are used to taking hand outs. We've conditioned them, what with our undeserved and undiscriminating worship of them, and the way they get handed everything on a platter, how would they be able to tell that the thing was a test product? It's all in the approach!!! For example:
Representative for Chemical company XYZ Uraniums, Bob: Mr. Clooney, Mr. Clooney, how 'bout a year's supply of our brand new, ultra-cutting edge "Face Firmer Five Billion" cream cleanser and daily facial moisturizer?
(to clarify, those product names aren't from real products, and also, I don't know what it would mean if they were.)
Clooney: Yeah, sure, why not? More free stuff from my adoring public? I'd love to!!!
later on that night...
Clooney, to self in mirror: Hey good looking! Hmm, this new daily moisturizer kinda tickles funny. I wonder what's in this stuff? Hmm, it just says "Experimental Ingredients." Must be really new wave.
The next morning...
Clooney, waking up: My face feels swollen and weird. I wonder... *Looks at self in mirror, sees Rosie O'Donnell looking back at him* Holy *%$#. I'm calling my agent!
That afternoon...
Ron Ithinkimsohot, agent for George Clooney: Bob, that cutting edge daily facial moisturizer and cream cleanser really did a number on George's face. What the heck is up with that?
Bob: Well, it is an experimental thing. Heck, it's based on a Uranium Extract. We didn't know what it'd do, thanks for the data.
Ron: What? Experimental? Do you think Clooney's some sorta guinea pig?
Bob: Well, I was pretty convinced that Batman and Robin was an experiment in making the worst movie, so Mr. Clooney was the obvious first choice in our new celebrity program. Regardless, it was marked clearly in the packaging. Gee whiz, Ron, don't get so defensive of your client. He'll recover in a couple of days. Meanwhile, you can bill him $400 for this 20 second call.
Ron: You make a great point. Talk to ya soon?
Bob: yeah, we'll do lunch. Catch ya later, i'm off to pitch to Jodie Foster.
Think about it folks! No bunnies were harmed in the making of this chemical compound... only the people that we overpay by far to play "make believe" for a few days in front of a camera so that we can ignore each other and suspend reality for—if we're lucky—two or three hours.
Anyway, that's it for me, for now. I'll try to be more disciplined, just for you mom, since you're the person who reads this. :-)
20041104
poetical utterances
i can justify that: confessions of a north american
It's not like I'm holding a gun to someone's head,
Even my North American self-centredness couldn't justify that.
Standing by while thousands end up dead?
Yeah, sure, I can justify that.
It's not as though I held up a bank or even a corner store.
I wouldn't dare be so brash.
But stealing forty dollar software from a multi-million dollar corporation?
Seriously, they've got tons of flow.
It's not that I'd deny my total depravity
Paul would roll over in his grave
It's just, well, your sin is clearly worse
than the things that hold me captive.
Yeah, I'm a North American
I can rationalize and justify with the best.
You won't even notice; it'll happen before your very eyes
After all, it's not my fault: I'm a North American.
It's not like I'm holding a gun to someone's head,
Even my North American self-centredness couldn't justify that.
Standing by while thousands end up dead?
Yeah, sure, I can justify that.
It's not as though I held up a bank or even a corner store.
I wouldn't dare be so brash.
But stealing forty dollar software from a multi-million dollar corporation?
Seriously, they've got tons of flow.
It's not that I'd deny my total depravity
Paul would roll over in his grave
It's just, well, your sin is clearly worse
than the things that hold me captive.
Yeah, I'm a North American
I can rationalize and justify with the best.
You won't even notice; it'll happen before your very eyes
After all, it's not my fault: I'm a North American.
20041031
freakin' weekends, and other assorted things
now playing: neil young // silver and gold album. and the riff in buffalo springfield again rocks. seriously. how can you not love neil? I need to buy more neil. I only currently possess 2 neil albums. Pretty sure one doesn't count, cause it's rock, but whatever. neil's done so much. gots to respec' that.
So, today was a sunday: went to church with the p's, wrestled a toilet (more on that later), worked on some design stuff, and thought about the future. Watched some football and return to me. Learned some stuff on the guitar. I'm working on scales, I'm getting a little better. It's such a brute force thing tho. You just have to keep doing it until you're good at it. I hate stuff like that. oh well, builds patience.
Also, I started using firefox from time to time this weekend. Partly because I'm doing design stuff and need to be able to cross check with firefox. I should probably check with opera too, but I'm lazy. Let me just say though, firefox = super slick, super quick, and super hot. Me likey.
So, sometimes in life you just gotta wrestle a toilet. For example, suppose you moved into a house, and they had this nasty looking toilet seat on the toilet. and it was rusted on. And it needed to be replaced. And the nuts on the rusted bolts were plastic. The logical approach would be to cut through it, no? Welp, thats what I did. It worked out okay. Except for the part where the toilet is only 4 inches from the wall on the one side, and therefore very difficult to see up under. There I was with a utility knife and a chick's mirror (the chick being my mom)—I felt like McGuyver. It was awesome. And then the army ants came, but I blew them up with a bomb made out of duct tape, twine and a knife. Sound impossible? Possibly, but I'm McGuyver. I did win the battle, by the way. One battle down, many more to go. Tomorrow I learn lessons with drills, and soon I'll be learning lessons of snowblowers (yay! Anything beats shovelling!)
One last thing: to chase a dream? you tell me: read the part about sound reinforcement then tell me what you think. Chasing dreams? Serious decisions? So confused? MMM HMM.
So, today was a sunday: went to church with the p's, wrestled a toilet (more on that later), worked on some design stuff, and thought about the future. Watched some football and return to me. Learned some stuff on the guitar. I'm working on scales, I'm getting a little better. It's such a brute force thing tho. You just have to keep doing it until you're good at it. I hate stuff like that. oh well, builds patience.
Also, I started using firefox from time to time this weekend. Partly because I'm doing design stuff and need to be able to cross check with firefox. I should probably check with opera too, but I'm lazy. Let me just say though, firefox = super slick, super quick, and super hot. Me likey.
So, sometimes in life you just gotta wrestle a toilet. For example, suppose you moved into a house, and they had this nasty looking toilet seat on the toilet. and it was rusted on. And it needed to be replaced. And the nuts on the rusted bolts were plastic. The logical approach would be to cut through it, no? Welp, thats what I did. It worked out okay. Except for the part where the toilet is only 4 inches from the wall on the one side, and therefore very difficult to see up under. There I was with a utility knife and a chick's mirror (the chick being my mom)—I felt like McGuyver. It was awesome. And then the army ants came, but I blew them up with a bomb made out of duct tape, twine and a knife. Sound impossible? Possibly, but I'm McGuyver. I did win the battle, by the way. One battle down, many more to go. Tomorrow I learn lessons with drills, and soon I'll be learning lessons of snowblowers (yay! Anything beats shovelling!)
One last thing: to chase a dream? you tell me: read the part about sound reinforcement then tell me what you think. Chasing dreams? Serious decisions? So confused? MMM HMM.
20041027
waking up
now playing: the red sox beating the cardinals! Whoo hoo! Sox in four!
Firstly: to my friends who read my last post and commented, thank you so much. It's greatly appreciated. Danielle, your comment was poetic. I really liked Motionless Dreamer. I may embroider it on a pillow. (-: Mom, next time just say who you are. Also, no, i haven't cleaned my room yet.
So, I woke up this morning to the shreik of my alarm. My alarm sounds like an air raid siren. It's tough. It's like 1939 London... my room is dark, but man the sirens won't stop. Of course, i hit snooze like 30 times before I hit the showers, but whatever. Anyway, as I woke up to my air raid siren, I got to thinking (A dangerous pastime, I know... man, Gaston was in deep smit for that Belle chick) about how some people wake up to things like... "The mellifluous sounds of chipmunks in fall," "John Tesh sings 60's tv scenes," and "Ocean waves" featuring the saxophone of Kenny G laid over waves breaking. Yay.
I came up with a plan for something better. You know how in Sci-Fi, they're always inventing robots that'll be your friend, or run your business, or take care of your kids? That stuff's garbage. I've come up with the best robot idea EVER!!! We'll call it "The Sargeant MeetYourDoom Wake Up Robot V. CMMCCXCXVII © ® ™." Instead of taking care of your kids, or other stuff that you should be doing yourself, it'll serve one purpose, and one purpose only: getting your sorry rear out of bed. It'll scream in your face, it'll make crass comments about the shape your in. It might even curse every once in a while. All so that you get up on time. Really, it'll be great! It'll even have a few moves so that if you ever try to retaliate against it, you find yourself staring up from the floor, wondering how you ended up there.
Not only that, think about the opportunities for customization! You could have different memory chips so that "The Sargeant MeetYourDoom Wake Up Robot V. CMMCCXCXVII © ® ™" could take on the characteristics of your favorite movie drill sargeants / military personnel. The "Red Dawn" Chip makes him talk like a cuban or a russian. Every once in a while, if you shout "Wolverines!" you score a bonus 10 minutes of sleep. But only every once in a while. The "Few Good Men" chip turns it into Jack Nicholson... he wakes you up by puffing a cigar in your face, and screaming about whether or not you can handle the truth. Fact of the matter is, you can't. Always popular, the "In the Army Now" chip turns it into Pauly Shore. This is notoriously easy to ignore, until he starts talking about burritos. Burritos always wake me up.
This product is sheer genius. I'm going to buy five of them. Cause lets face it, I'll figure out some way to defeat the first four .That fifth one though, he'll get me up for sure. For now, I'll just stick to the air raid siren. And my snooze button.
Firstly: to my friends who read my last post and commented, thank you so much. It's greatly appreciated. Danielle, your comment was poetic. I really liked Motionless Dreamer. I may embroider it on a pillow. (-: Mom, next time just say who you are. Also, no, i haven't cleaned my room yet.
So, I woke up this morning to the shreik of my alarm. My alarm sounds like an air raid siren. It's tough. It's like 1939 London... my room is dark, but man the sirens won't stop. Of course, i hit snooze like 30 times before I hit the showers, but whatever. Anyway, as I woke up to my air raid siren, I got to thinking (A dangerous pastime, I know... man, Gaston was in deep smit for that Belle chick) about how some people wake up to things like... "The mellifluous sounds of chipmunks in fall," "John Tesh sings 60's tv scenes," and "Ocean waves" featuring the saxophone of Kenny G laid over waves breaking. Yay.
I came up with a plan for something better. You know how in Sci-Fi, they're always inventing robots that'll be your friend, or run your business, or take care of your kids? That stuff's garbage. I've come up with the best robot idea EVER!!! We'll call it "The Sargeant MeetYourDoom Wake Up Robot V. CMMCCXCXVII © ® ™." Instead of taking care of your kids, or other stuff that you should be doing yourself, it'll serve one purpose, and one purpose only: getting your sorry rear out of bed. It'll scream in your face, it'll make crass comments about the shape your in. It might even curse every once in a while. All so that you get up on time. Really, it'll be great! It'll even have a few moves so that if you ever try to retaliate against it, you find yourself staring up from the floor, wondering how you ended up there.
Not only that, think about the opportunities for customization! You could have different memory chips so that "The Sargeant MeetYourDoom Wake Up Robot V. CMMCCXCXVII © ® ™" could take on the characteristics of your favorite movie drill sargeants / military personnel. The "Red Dawn" Chip makes him talk like a cuban or a russian. Every once in a while, if you shout "Wolverines!" you score a bonus 10 minutes of sleep. But only every once in a while. The "Few Good Men" chip turns it into Jack Nicholson... he wakes you up by puffing a cigar in your face, and screaming about whether or not you can handle the truth. Fact of the matter is, you can't. Always popular, the "In the Army Now" chip turns it into Pauly Shore. This is notoriously easy to ignore, until he starts talking about burritos. Burritos always wake me up.
This product is sheer genius. I'm going to buy five of them. Cause lets face it, I'll figure out some way to defeat the first four .That fifth one though, he'll get me up for sure. For now, I'll just stick to the air raid siren. And my snooze button.
20041026
big thing // little thing
So, here's what I'm trying to figure out: how are we to look at our lives and separate the big things from the little things?
See, it'd be easy to look at the above statement and say, "Wow, this guy is desperate to sound deep." But, for once, I don't think that's the case (although I'm aware that deep inside of me, right next to my desire to be Wolverine or the Incredible Hulk, is a desire to be cool that manifests itself all the time in ridiculous ways). See, I'm seriously at that point in my life where I'm trying to sort out the important from the unimportant. Why? Well... I've been trying to figure that out too.
I think we reach this point in life where we feel the societal expectation is that if we're asked by a pretty girl, "what are you doing with the rest of your life?" we'll be able to give a logical, honest, good answer. So, we come up with plans. We become teachers and electricians and project editors. Not necessarily because it's where we think God wants us (although at times we're smart enough to let that play into it), more because, eh, it keeps people off our backs and it helps us to sleep at night.
Don't get me wrong. I'm content with my job and I feel like I'm where God would have me for this stage in my life. I just don't understand where it's going.
Think about it: I've got this song in my head called T-Shirt by Derek Webb, the first line says "They'll know us by the T-Shirts that we wear." I'm going to hijack the line from it's intended purpose (while encouraging you to BUY BUY BUY his new album), and cross apply.
My dad is the ultimate collector of shirts. He has one of my old telus shirts, an old Tim Horton's shirt, various computer and food supply company shirts, and so much CN Railway apparrel that the company actually called about the catalogue shoot. When I worked at Telus, I was easily identifiable by my uniform. When I worked at Subway, it was even easier to spot (stupid visor making my forehead look huge). As much as uniforms are the bane of people's existence, they're nice cause people know who you are from them. I have a lifeguard sweater—even though I'm not a lifeguard per se. I wear it, and people think that I was a responsible young adult (at least, until they see eye candy on the sleeve). It identifies me as something. So, following the T-Shirt analogy, what would I put on a t-shirt to identify where I'm at right now?
"Hasn't got a clue what he's doing"
"Life-goal-less"
"Spends more time on the msn messenger than developing a skill set"
"Going my way? Care to enlighten me?"
Obviously I'm being overly dramatic. But, where does it go from here? What's next on the list of things to do? I really don't know. I need to be able to establish priorities and a list of goals, but I don't know how. What are the criteria by which we do that? Any ideas? To quote Jar Jar Binks, "Any help here would be hot!"
I'm done for now. I'll give you more as I figure more out.
See, it'd be easy to look at the above statement and say, "Wow, this guy is desperate to sound deep." But, for once, I don't think that's the case (although I'm aware that deep inside of me, right next to my desire to be Wolverine or the Incredible Hulk, is a desire to be cool that manifests itself all the time in ridiculous ways). See, I'm seriously at that point in my life where I'm trying to sort out the important from the unimportant. Why? Well... I've been trying to figure that out too.
I think we reach this point in life where we feel the societal expectation is that if we're asked by a pretty girl, "what are you doing with the rest of your life?" we'll be able to give a logical, honest, good answer. So, we come up with plans. We become teachers and electricians and project editors. Not necessarily because it's where we think God wants us (although at times we're smart enough to let that play into it), more because, eh, it keeps people off our backs and it helps us to sleep at night.
Don't get me wrong. I'm content with my job and I feel like I'm where God would have me for this stage in my life. I just don't understand where it's going.
Think about it: I've got this song in my head called T-Shirt by Derek Webb, the first line says "They'll know us by the T-Shirts that we wear." I'm going to hijack the line from it's intended purpose (while encouraging you to BUY BUY BUY his new album), and cross apply.
My dad is the ultimate collector of shirts. He has one of my old telus shirts, an old Tim Horton's shirt, various computer and food supply company shirts, and so much CN Railway apparrel that the company actually called about the catalogue shoot. When I worked at Telus, I was easily identifiable by my uniform. When I worked at Subway, it was even easier to spot (stupid visor making my forehead look huge). As much as uniforms are the bane of people's existence, they're nice cause people know who you are from them. I have a lifeguard sweater—even though I'm not a lifeguard per se. I wear it, and people think that I was a responsible young adult (at least, until they see eye candy on the sleeve). It identifies me as something. So, following the T-Shirt analogy, what would I put on a t-shirt to identify where I'm at right now?
"Hasn't got a clue what he's doing"
"Life-goal-less"
"Spends more time on the msn messenger than developing a skill set"
"Going my way? Care to enlighten me?"
Obviously I'm being overly dramatic. But, where does it go from here? What's next on the list of things to do? I really don't know. I need to be able to establish priorities and a list of goals, but I don't know how. What are the criteria by which we do that? Any ideas? To quote Jar Jar Binks, "Any help here would be hot!"
I'm done for now. I'll give you more as I figure more out.
20041018
hehehe... baseball, old songs, and jackie chan
now playing: commercials in between the yankees and bosox trading off who is batting and who is pitching. Will it ever end?
Yeah, so... i'm not usually a fan of baseball, but this is some intense sports going on here... these guys are hardcore in a jack black, legend of the rent sort of way. And I respect that. And also, I hate teams like the yankees (see manchester U, Arsenal, Real Madrid, NY Rangers, Colorado Avalanche, Detroit Red Wings, and so on) who have too much money and not enough heart. So, i'd love to see Boston take it to 'em. Hence, I'm watching baseball for the first time in years.
Old songs... every once in a while I go back in my mind to songs I once tried to write with friends. One of my favorites is "This Silly Melancholy." Our buddy pete came up with the term, and we seriously never got much farther than having the title idea. I've tried to write it a hundred times, but i never get anywhere. Who knows, maybe I'm going about it all wrong... maybe it needs to be a rock song. Or a ballad. "That's way too fast! It's a ballad!" (Jimmy, That Thing You Do!) One day. One day.
Jackie Chan... what would I do right now if I was Jackie Chan? Here's the thing, i'd love to be a writer. I'd love to be able to write fiction, write non-fiction, write exciting stuff, write boring stuff. The problem seems to be that I have no ability at writing creatively. Seriously, Jackie Chan can't even speak english, and the guy makes all kinds of art. But then, he spent large amounts of time as a child standing on one foot in weird martial arts poses and stuff. What else would he do except come up with movie ideas in his head? Hence, the reason I'll never be a writer is North American "keep you occupied" culture. If I'd just been bored more, I'd be way more creative.
Yeah right.
Yeah, so... i'm not usually a fan of baseball, but this is some intense sports going on here... these guys are hardcore in a jack black, legend of the rent sort of way. And I respect that. And also, I hate teams like the yankees (see manchester U, Arsenal, Real Madrid, NY Rangers, Colorado Avalanche, Detroit Red Wings, and so on) who have too much money and not enough heart. So, i'd love to see Boston take it to 'em. Hence, I'm watching baseball for the first time in years.
Old songs... every once in a while I go back in my mind to songs I once tried to write with friends. One of my favorites is "This Silly Melancholy." Our buddy pete came up with the term, and we seriously never got much farther than having the title idea. I've tried to write it a hundred times, but i never get anywhere. Who knows, maybe I'm going about it all wrong... maybe it needs to be a rock song. Or a ballad. "That's way too fast! It's a ballad!" (Jimmy, That Thing You Do!) One day. One day.
Jackie Chan... what would I do right now if I was Jackie Chan? Here's the thing, i'd love to be a writer. I'd love to be able to write fiction, write non-fiction, write exciting stuff, write boring stuff. The problem seems to be that I have no ability at writing creatively. Seriously, Jackie Chan can't even speak english, and the guy makes all kinds of art. But then, he spent large amounts of time as a child standing on one foot in weird martial arts poses and stuff. What else would he do except come up with movie ideas in his head? Hence, the reason I'll never be a writer is North American "keep you occupied" culture. If I'd just been bored more, I'd be way more creative.
Yeah right.
20041017
days of yore
now playing: my nephew making car sounds as he moves an ugly blue school bus around. Crap, he's cute. They came to visit this weekend. It was... well, to use Code and Pyro's word... awexome. I like kids. Especially when, as another friend said, "as uncles, we get to hype them up on candy and chocolate and then they go home with someone else." Yep, that part rocks. Anyway, moving along.
So, I grew up to Boy Meets World. Seriously, it was the family show. I remember my older brother crying EVERY TIME Cory and Topanga broke up. No word of a lie. Today, I managed to catch an episode of Boy Meets World as i was chillin' with my nephews. (They're far more into Jimmy Neutron than boy meets world, but I weigh 210 pounds (yeah, lard butt), and they weigh about 50 and 30 pounds respectively... I've won every fight so far.) The whole crew was there, it was an episode from probably 97 or 98... and, well, I don't know... it'd didn't make me think anything really deep (except maybe that I'd still marry the girl who played Topanga... but that's actually not very deep at all. However, Danielle Fishel, if you're reading this, CALL ME!). But, it was good memories. TV is so over dramatic, yet not. They have a crisis every week, but then, don't we seem to have a crisis at least once a week? Even if it's just a mental one, they're there. I don't know. It made me feel warm and fuzzy. I miss good TV like Boy Meets World. The crap that's on now, well... just not worth watching.
Oh, also, as I logged in to type this post, I discovered something. You're reading the 101st post on andymack.blogspot.com. It's almost enough to make me get my own domain. When a TV program makes 100 episodes, it's a big deal. We're making history folks. Anyway, I just wanted to gloat a little. Unfortunately, I'm not as good as the Brothers Chap, so you won't find any easter eggs or anything. Maybe someday.
All right, I'm out like a fat kid in dodgeball. Canadian trivia for the day: in Canada, practise is a verb, but practice is a noun. So, I'm a practising doctor, but My practice is located at 222 Thiscitysucks, Belleville, Ontario. Funny, eh?
So, I grew up to Boy Meets World. Seriously, it was the family show. I remember my older brother crying EVERY TIME Cory and Topanga broke up. No word of a lie. Today, I managed to catch an episode of Boy Meets World as i was chillin' with my nephews. (They're far more into Jimmy Neutron than boy meets world, but I weigh 210 pounds (yeah, lard butt), and they weigh about 50 and 30 pounds respectively... I've won every fight so far.) The whole crew was there, it was an episode from probably 97 or 98... and, well, I don't know... it'd didn't make me think anything really deep (except maybe that I'd still marry the girl who played Topanga... but that's actually not very deep at all. However, Danielle Fishel, if you're reading this, CALL ME!). But, it was good memories. TV is so over dramatic, yet not. They have a crisis every week, but then, don't we seem to have a crisis at least once a week? Even if it's just a mental one, they're there. I don't know. It made me feel warm and fuzzy. I miss good TV like Boy Meets World. The crap that's on now, well... just not worth watching.
Oh, also, as I logged in to type this post, I discovered something. You're reading the 101st post on andymack.blogspot.com. It's almost enough to make me get my own domain. When a TV program makes 100 episodes, it's a big deal. We're making history folks. Anyway, I just wanted to gloat a little. Unfortunately, I'm not as good as the Brothers Chap, so you won't find any easter eggs or anything. Maybe someday.
All right, I'm out like a fat kid in dodgeball. Canadian trivia for the day: in Canada, practise is a verb, but practice is a noun. So, I'm a practising doctor, but My practice is located at 222 Thiscitysucks, Belleville, Ontario. Funny, eh?
20041010
jazz doesn't resolve
now playing: the patriot... mel gibson's about to kill the bad guy. heath already died. hmm, can't really say i feel bad about that.
Okay, so yesterday we were at the local Christian Bookstore, and they happened to have a copy of a book sitting on their shelf (precisely one copy: no more, no less). This book had been recommended to me by some very intelligent people, and I'd been very interested in reading it at that point in time. Seeing it there, all alone, and kinda wedged between two books by stupid people, I thought, I should buy this. So I did. The book is called Blue Like Jazz and it is stupendous. Very cleverly written. I identify with him... especially in that i have friends like his... one like andy the protester, and one like tony the beatpoet. I disagree with his nonuse of a comma on introductory clauses, however, I imagine he wouldn't care much, and I really don't either. He's a clever writer, and I recommend him highly. That's Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. Wicked funny. Wicked Deep. Too hot for conservative Bible schools. Not really. A good Christian guy, with a slightly different viewpoint.
Thats about all I've got. Right now, I feel blue, but not like jazz... I believe it's going to resolve, eventually. Much love guys,
Okay, so yesterday we were at the local Christian Bookstore, and they happened to have a copy of a book sitting on their shelf (precisely one copy: no more, no less). This book had been recommended to me by some very intelligent people, and I'd been very interested in reading it at that point in time. Seeing it there, all alone, and kinda wedged between two books by stupid people, I thought, I should buy this. So I did. The book is called Blue Like Jazz and it is stupendous. Very cleverly written. I identify with him... especially in that i have friends like his... one like andy the protester, and one like tony the beatpoet. I disagree with his nonuse of a comma on introductory clauses, however, I imagine he wouldn't care much, and I really don't either. He's a clever writer, and I recommend him highly. That's Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. Wicked funny. Wicked Deep. Too hot for conservative Bible schools. Not really. A good Christian guy, with a slightly different viewpoint.
Thats about all I've got. Right now, I feel blue, but not like jazz... I believe it's going to resolve, eventually. Much love guys,
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