Today I had a gravitational encounter with an inconveniently located tree. The star of the act of course was gravity whose role was supported by an innocent skier caught in the grips of its accelerating power. The force of gravities acceleration combined with a nitwit skier's miscalculated turn-to-tree radius stigmatizations led to a rather spectacular collision with a tree. Within milliseconds the skier (me) was engulfed in a spiraling tornado of snow, skis, poles, tree limbs, and flailing body parts. The powder clouds were high enough to touch the hallowed heavens above. When the powder settled there was our hero (me), the innocent skier, lying prostrate on the snow with one still attached ski caught in branches of two different trees, and a ski pole bent at a 90 degree angle. Slightly ominously, a well meaning snow boarder comments on the "wicked spill" and asks if he can be of assistance, but given the red horns that stuck out of the good Samaritans helmet, I decide to graciously decline the generous offer. Figuring it was time for a rest, I limp into the lodge to make my legendary miracle healing concoction (or LMHC for short); split pea soup, Doritos’s, and a pint’a beer (all consumed separately of course). The effect miracle concoction, hastened by dehydration, quickly restores my sense of invincibility and I hit the slopes once more…but not for long before the pain masking properties of the LMHC fade and I feel as though I am 40 years old—on the brink of death.
In other news, I am headed out for New Mexico…you know its going to be good because its like Mexico only better because its new. I’ll be there for a week long caving trip. While caves may not the best place to get a tan, apparently they are the best place to get stuck and die. So I’ll do my best to accomplish one of the two things listed above. Which one could it be? You’ll find out if I never post again.
…A slightly ominous ending, but an ending no less
Friday, February 23, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
female insight #1
It is uncanny the resemplance between the female mind and police surveillance cameras. Forget all the good stuff you ever did (assuming there was some), they only catch you at your bad moments--and replay it over and over. These go on your permanent record. Be it a misdemeanor or a federal offence, at any point in the future you are liable to have one of these police videos pulled out months, years, or decades after the transgression. This sudden reawakening of past sins leaves me perplexed because two-thirds of the time I have not only forgotten the incident, but that entire period of my life. For those of you who know me this will come as no surprise. You would think some money hungry tycoon would start advertising for memory altering drugs that would wipe out the "police camera" section of the female brain, I'll keep waiting for it to come out. But until then; for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death will me and my record part.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
5 subjects
Has it ever happened to you that in a flash of a second your ideas, values, priorities, and definition of meaning which, one second ago you valued so highly, are now exposed as utter silliness? One well placed sentence is all it takes to switch a world view completely.
I pledge allegiance
To the fact
That I will never live in suburbia.
And for the evil empire
For which it stands
One accursed barren waste land,
Indivisible
With long commutes for all.
Curious; in an unexpectedly interesting segment of class, we wrote down our three main priorities in life i.e. family self work. Then were told to write these three priorities in sequence of “most time I spend with” to “least time I spend with”. Oddly, when I compared the two lists, they were completely opposite of each other—the main priorities get the least time, and the least priorities get the most.
I enjoy astronomy class mostly because of the incredible understatements one can make about the universe. My professor does it all the time “so they discovered that the sun’s core is about 1 million Kelvin…ok? So if you get close enough to that, it’ll burn your marshmallow sticks and ruin your whole party for sure”.
I saw the stars tonight. I can’t remember the last time I saw them, or at least looked at them, but there they were; mocking human existence from their eternal perch. If stars had a consciousness I wonder what they who live for trillions of years would say to those whose lives rarely surpass 90 on a planet a 0.00001 the size of their own. No such deflation of the human ego can compare to that the heavens bestow in the minds of those who listen to the message of their voices.
I pledge allegiance
To the fact
That I will never live in suburbia.
And for the evil empire
For which it stands
One accursed barren waste land,
Indivisible
With long commutes for all.
Curious; in an unexpectedly interesting segment of class, we wrote down our three main priorities in life i.e. family self work. Then were told to write these three priorities in sequence of “most time I spend with” to “least time I spend with”. Oddly, when I compared the two lists, they were completely opposite of each other—the main priorities get the least time, and the least priorities get the most.
I enjoy astronomy class mostly because of the incredible understatements one can make about the universe. My professor does it all the time “so they discovered that the sun’s core is about 1 million Kelvin…ok? So if you get close enough to that, it’ll burn your marshmallow sticks and ruin your whole party for sure”.
I saw the stars tonight. I can’t remember the last time I saw them, or at least looked at them, but there they were; mocking human existence from their eternal perch. If stars had a consciousness I wonder what they who live for trillions of years would say to those whose lives rarely surpass 90 on a planet a 0.00001 the size of their own. No such deflation of the human ego can compare to that the heavens bestow in the minds of those who listen to the message of their voices.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
best before august, 2009
It is not uncommon for the recipient of an email to read "I miss you" at the bottom of a letter. This statement very unremarkable in terms of its common colloquial usage in the English language. Most perplexing to me is the new and peculiar placement of symbol to follow this common statement; namely, a question mark. So the complete phrase may read as follows: "I miss you?” The implications of this statement? Unknown. I have never encountered this use of a question mark. The first time I encountered this phenomenon I passed it off as a typo or one writer’s idiosyncrasy. But what of the second and third times I received this odd statement from different writers? Something is afoot.
Recently I have been making a hobby of studying good-byes. I find them interesting. An interest perhaps similar to the kind a doctor would have on himself if repeatedly broke out in seizures. After much thought on the matter I have deduced the phrase "I miss you?" is typical of a type 2 friendship. Let's expand the idea:
1. Type 2 friends are good buddies where the relationship is based on experience i.e. seeing each other every day, hanging out, coffee, etc.
2. But they separate and never see each other again
3. This leads to a lack of new experiences from which to base the relationship. There is old experience but this quickly becomes irrelevant in light of current circumstances.
4. Years down the road, both parties feel conflictingly as to the extent of missing their former friend (FF). With having none but past and irrelevant shared experiences to cite, the FF’s intellectually know that they used to like each other but no longer have any hard experience to prove this idea.
5. Hence, the statement “I miss you?” is a perfect encapsulation of an individual’s conflicting emotions, experiences and ideas in the context of an expiring relationship. Brilliant.
Here’s a thought; do relationships have expiration dates similar to that found on milk cartons? Except that this expiration date is based upon some cosmic calculation of random circumstances in that lead to an estimated date of relational termination. It would be funny to meet someone and then stamp their forehead with a “best before august 2009”.
Recently I have been making a hobby of studying good-byes. I find them interesting. An interest perhaps similar to the kind a doctor would have on himself if repeatedly broke out in seizures. After much thought on the matter I have deduced the phrase "I miss you?" is typical of a type 2 friendship. Let's expand the idea:
1. Type 2 friends are good buddies where the relationship is based on experience i.e. seeing each other every day, hanging out, coffee, etc.
2. But they separate and never see each other again
3. This leads to a lack of new experiences from which to base the relationship. There is old experience but this quickly becomes irrelevant in light of current circumstances.
4. Years down the road, both parties feel conflictingly as to the extent of missing their former friend (FF). With having none but past and irrelevant shared experiences to cite, the FF’s intellectually know that they used to like each other but no longer have any hard experience to prove this idea.
5. Hence, the statement “I miss you?” is a perfect encapsulation of an individual’s conflicting emotions, experiences and ideas in the context of an expiring relationship. Brilliant.
Here’s a thought; do relationships have expiration dates similar to that found on milk cartons? Except that this expiration date is based upon some cosmic calculation of random circumstances in that lead to an estimated date of relational termination. It would be funny to meet someone and then stamp their forehead with a “best before august 2009”.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
exploding heads
The clock struck twelve. The night was still. Only the sound of gently tapping rain could be heard on the tin roof in the intervals between surges of swelling surf on the ocean. In the placid silence something was awry, she could feel it somewhere down in her lower left pinky toe. Her steady hazel eyes examined the ghostly horizon lit only by the pale moon. At that moment perhaps the most extraordinary, history altering event took place.
Did you really think I was about to write a dramatic story? Ha! Oh man, gets me every time. You should’a seen the way you looked when you started reading that story. Brilliant. Anyways, I wanted to wish you all a happy Belated April Fools Anniversary. January 1st was the 8 month anniversary of April fools since April 2006, so I thought I’d do some “fooling” of my own, if you know what I mean. And just how many times can I mention “April” in one paragraph? Apparently a lot…and then some. But that’s no reason not to say “gotcha!” Haha!
Now onto business; exactly the nature of the very important business I have to discuss? It is either too classified to write in this entry, or there is none at all. Perhaps the unnamed writer of this entry who you assume to be, for all practical and experiential purposes someone named brent is actually a telemarketer in India eating kim-chi or whatever it is they eat in Africa. Suffice it to say, now that I have got you wondering why in the world you are wasting your precious (and as you continue reading) decreasing brainwaves on this literacy and emotional stability test, I am ready to disclose the thesis statement of this entry:
America. (which is actually a word, not a thesis…I got my poetic license yesterday alright? Get off my back). Now that I have been living here for almost a month I feel that I am a professional on the subject and following are a list of my most poignant, though be it provoking thoughts for some:
1. Variability.
Contrary to what many people would like to think about America (I too, was once one of these) Americans are not all the same. For example, overseas one will hear many people say all Americans are fat. CASE IN POINT. From my personal experience I can personally attest to you that in fact, not all Americans are obese. Would you like to rebuttle by saying that the majority of Americans are fat? I have no idea. And I would suggest that unless you have some verifiable facts under your belt, neither do you so we should end this discussion now.
2. Political diversity.
Overseas or across the border many people equate Americans with Bush fanatics. Its like the eagle on the cover of each American passport is a testament to one’s undying love and commitment to A. Bush and B. blowing up the rest of the planet that is not owned by Bush, stealing their oil, plundering natural resources, and enslaving cheap labor in Asia. I am pleased to announce that not only are there the kind of people in America who do not like Bush, but there are other kinds of people too. WOW. I know, Heads are probably exploding even as you read this.
Which is why I will leave this entry here. Stand by for the next edition of exploding heads.
Did you really think I was about to write a dramatic story? Ha! Oh man, gets me every time. You should’a seen the way you looked when you started reading that story. Brilliant. Anyways, I wanted to wish you all a happy Belated April Fools Anniversary. January 1st was the 8 month anniversary of April fools since April 2006, so I thought I’d do some “fooling” of my own, if you know what I mean. And just how many times can I mention “April” in one paragraph? Apparently a lot…and then some. But that’s no reason not to say “gotcha!” Haha!
Now onto business; exactly the nature of the very important business I have to discuss? It is either too classified to write in this entry, or there is none at all. Perhaps the unnamed writer of this entry who you assume to be, for all practical and experiential purposes someone named brent is actually a telemarketer in India eating kim-chi or whatever it is they eat in Africa. Suffice it to say, now that I have got you wondering why in the world you are wasting your precious (and as you continue reading) decreasing brainwaves on this literacy and emotional stability test, I am ready to disclose the thesis statement of this entry:
America. (which is actually a word, not a thesis…I got my poetic license yesterday alright? Get off my back). Now that I have been living here for almost a month I feel that I am a professional on the subject and following are a list of my most poignant, though be it provoking thoughts for some:
1. Variability.
Contrary to what many people would like to think about America (I too, was once one of these) Americans are not all the same. For example, overseas one will hear many people say all Americans are fat. CASE IN POINT. From my personal experience I can personally attest to you that in fact, not all Americans are obese. Would you like to rebuttle by saying that the majority of Americans are fat? I have no idea. And I would suggest that unless you have some verifiable facts under your belt, neither do you so we should end this discussion now.
2. Political diversity.
Overseas or across the border many people equate Americans with Bush fanatics. Its like the eagle on the cover of each American passport is a testament to one’s undying love and commitment to A. Bush and B. blowing up the rest of the planet that is not owned by Bush, stealing their oil, plundering natural resources, and enslaving cheap labor in Asia. I am pleased to announce that not only are there the kind of people in America who do not like Bush, but there are other kinds of people too. WOW. I know, Heads are probably exploding even as you read this.
Which is why I will leave this entry here. Stand by for the next edition of exploding heads.
Friday, December 15, 2006
a study in Christmas rage: the international conspiracy of Christmas
Be advised, the following may contain extreme Christmas-spirit-killing material. Rated "I" for Informative, Illuminating, and Illustrated Christmas rage.
When I was a kid Christmas had no commercials. Heck, I barely even had Christmas off from school, no one cared about it, there were no expectations, and we just did our thing. Granted that was in a country where Christmas is as popular as selfless giving is in America, but the fact remains—Christmas was great.
So now I ask, since when did Christmas get so commercialized? And why do we, as a culture insist on raping this celebration of winter and family by spoiling these two priceless things by dousing them in the boiling poison of materialism? Christmas is polluted! Code Red! Abort! I wonder why I have to listen to 200 commercials in stores, on the radio, on billboards, and on TV tell me that I have to buy something for the people I love in order to show them my appreciation. Well advertisements, I call your bluff. Do the companies selling diamonds care about your loved one? Do they want you to be happy? Do they really mean it when they say “merry Christmas!”. Pifff! Merry Christmas ho ho HA! It’s just a North American conspiracy to make you buy more things. MORE, ALWAYS MORE! And maybe it’s a sign when we have to rack our brains, scratch our heads and say “oh jeez what in the world can I get that person, seems like he/she has everything already”. CODE RED! I’m no tree hugger, but I’ve got to say that when it comes to this point, put your $20 into the flippen Salvation Army tin. I know it’s counter-cultural to actually selflessly give during Christmas instead of giving-because-you’d-feel-bad-if-you received-with-nothing-to-give-back, but you can do it. You can transcend blaring, loud, neon colored advertisements that tell you that you aren’t good enough, or your stuff is outdated, or that the best gift for your loved one is______ (insert word here). Commercialized, materialized America raped Christmas and turned it into a corporate money making machine.
Christmas trees are the newest icon to place on the alter in the sacred Temple of Materialism—the mall. They are the new symbol of American Express, affluence, and “trying to find that gift that’s perfect for that special someone? Well try SKREW YOU!@$ It works every time, guaranteed, so that this Christmas you can put a smile on her face with bren-topia travels all new SKREW YOU. Order online right now and with a purchase of $5,000,000,000,000 you can register to win a $50 gift card. That’s a complementary $50 gift card only when you order now!”.
It makes me want to burn them. All.
When I was a kid Christmas had no commercials. Heck, I barely even had Christmas off from school, no one cared about it, there were no expectations, and we just did our thing. Granted that was in a country where Christmas is as popular as selfless giving is in America, but the fact remains—Christmas was great.
So now I ask, since when did Christmas get so commercialized? And why do we, as a culture insist on raping this celebration of winter and family by spoiling these two priceless things by dousing them in the boiling poison of materialism? Christmas is polluted! Code Red! Abort! I wonder why I have to listen to 200 commercials in stores, on the radio, on billboards, and on TV tell me that I have to buy something for the people I love in order to show them my appreciation. Well advertisements, I call your bluff. Do the companies selling diamonds care about your loved one? Do they want you to be happy? Do they really mean it when they say “merry Christmas!”. Pifff! Merry Christmas ho ho HA! It’s just a North American conspiracy to make you buy more things. MORE, ALWAYS MORE! And maybe it’s a sign when we have to rack our brains, scratch our heads and say “oh jeez what in the world can I get that person, seems like he/she has everything already”. CODE RED! I’m no tree hugger, but I’ve got to say that when it comes to this point, put your $20 into the flippen Salvation Army tin. I know it’s counter-cultural to actually selflessly give during Christmas instead of giving-because-you’d-feel-bad-if-you received-with-nothing-to-give-back, but you can do it. You can transcend blaring, loud, neon colored advertisements that tell you that you aren’t good enough, or your stuff is outdated, or that the best gift for your loved one is______ (insert word here). Commercialized, materialized America raped Christmas and turned it into a corporate money making machine.
Christmas trees are the newest icon to place on the alter in the sacred Temple of Materialism—the mall. They are the new symbol of American Express, affluence, and “trying to find that gift that’s perfect for that special someone? Well try SKREW YOU!@$ It works every time, guaranteed, so that this Christmas you can put a smile on her face with bren-topia travels all new SKREW YOU. Order online right now and with a purchase of $5,000,000,000,000 you can register to win a $50 gift card. That’s a complementary $50 gift card only when you order now!”.
It makes me want to burn them. All.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
god save the queen!
It was a startling plot twist when Brent found himself enjoying life in Canada. When I began my second year here in September, there was only one other place that I could imagine to be worse than Canada; that proprietor of pride, that great temple to consumerism, the emissary of global domination, and the holy headquarters of Twinkies—America. But now as my time here comes to an end it would seem that the people around me have somehow managed to creep their way into my heart, and I will miss them. I feel like I’ve said far too many goodbyes in my time, and I have, and now I will again. The most difficult part of goodbyes is being willing to say hello again, knowing that it will be closely followed by another goodbye. Slowly good friends will turn from faces into electronic symbols displayed crudely on a computer monitor until correspondence ceases, and I realize that I don’t even know the person I’m emailing anymore. I have been called a critic and a cynic, but there is little romance in farewells and much to dwell on; it is difficult to keep from becoming a victim of experience.
I have always thought that there are three things that are fundamentally wrong with our human existence: death, disease, and farewells. All seem necessary and unavoidable, yet inhuman in essence. In a perfect world or perhaps in heaven there will be none of these—I will look forward to the day.
So this goes out to you my Abbotsford, Chilliwack, Langley, and Vancouver friends.
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!
I will miss you.
So what, ask you, could possibly be next for a nomad such as myself? Two words: Washing-ton. You may have heard of it. I will be going to a very prestigious community college near my parents place in/near Tacoma where I hope to do some gen-ed before hopping on the University wagon. This will be my first time living in America since 7th grade—and I don’t know how I feel about it. But I have a ski pass and skis—life should be good.
I have always thought that there are three things that are fundamentally wrong with our human existence: death, disease, and farewells. All seem necessary and unavoidable, yet inhuman in essence. In a perfect world or perhaps in heaven there will be none of these—I will look forward to the day.
So this goes out to you my Abbotsford, Chilliwack, Langley, and Vancouver friends.
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!
I will miss you.
So what, ask you, could possibly be next for a nomad such as myself? Two words: Washing-ton. You may have heard of it. I will be going to a very prestigious community college near my parents place in/near Tacoma where I hope to do some gen-ed before hopping on the University wagon. This will be my first time living in America since 7th grade—and I don’t know how I feel about it. But I have a ski pass and skis—life should be good.
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