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Movies (4) Photos. (47) Poetry (16) Quotations. (76) Words (15) Writings. (137)

Sunday, August 30, 2009

global warming LIES!

First, let’s remember for a minute here that carbon dioxide makes up .04% of the atmosphere. Yes, plants absorb it to make oxygen, humans and animals inhale that oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide, we also create carbon dioxide from industry but all that is a small portion of what could possibly have any drastic affect on the overall temperature of Earth. All that happens on land. Our planet is (so conveniently) made of 75% water, most of which contains high amounts of a rock called limestone (also present in huge mountains all over the world) which is made up of calcium (from excess deposits in the ground) and carbon dioxide (absorbed from the air). The more Co2, the more limestone, and the water acts as a buffer between the two. Volcano smoke has been emitting crazy amounts of carbon dioxide for billions of years, but because they also happen to spit up lava, which happens to cool into igneous rock, which happens to contain calcium, which happens to .. yet again, combine with the carbon in the atmosphere to make… limestone. Our planet has a system that’s been balancing itself for longer then anything you can ever conceive. Humans been around for a tiny blink of geological time, and while it might be getting warmer, it’s not a disaster and it’s happening very very VERY VERY slowly. I know why it’s being pushed so hard by the media, and so I don’t give a shit if you’re already brainwashed into disagreeing. They’re trying to scare the public into doing the right thing. I suppose it’s working, and might even be necessary, but trust me, your kids, and grandkids, and grandkids grandkids are all safe from the over publicized, warped, twisted, media created death sentence that is global warming doom. I feel like the oil market must have something to do with it. Maybe so they charge people twice now. Once to buy it, and again to burn it. I don't have all the answers, and am not pretending to, but I know enough to confidently proclaim that global warming is not a serious immediate threat. This is just the beginning to how arrogant I am about this subject.

*Additions: 99.999999% of ALL the carbon in the world, comes from limestone. The scientific equation is this: caco3 (limestone)+ 1/2 h20 (water) is equal to ca+(calcium) Hco3 +- 1/2o2 (oxygen)
then when it meets the surface of the air, Hco3 +-1/2o2 becomes equal to Co2 + h2o (carbon dixoide, plus water) or the other way around. - The more c02 in the air, the more Hco3 in the water, the more Caco3. co2 levels are kept in DIRECT balance by the solubility equation of limestone. Argue THAT motherfuckers.

human hybrids

Did you know that the human body contains ten times more bacteria cells then human cells? Without which we would have serious problems making vitamins, breaking down garbage foods, and even maintaining our atmosphere and oxygen levels. Technically, we're more bacteria then we are human. Scary thought.

Friday, August 28, 2009

No one worth possessing can be quite possessed.
- Sara Teasdale

outside

Lightning, snowflakes, oceans, and clouds,
Make you look out the window.
Trapped in drywall glass cages,
Look at you.
You're reading poetry.
Outside mother nature's waiting,
To remove the words,
the typing,
the harsh screen light.
To embellish her miracles,
And make you believe in something,
Anything.
Meaning is not here,
In these easy words.
It's beyond the doors, the streets,
the shoes and shops,
Seek the moon and trees,
And grass and streams.
You will see your dreams,
Slip into sense,
And find,
What you never knew was lost.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

us & them

It’s almost dark now.
They can have their dreams of mediocrity,
Concede to the spell of ordinary things.
The bird whispers his way to meet me.
They can stay grounded in convenient lies,
Lost in a maze of the everyday.
We drop to the heavens together.
They can have riches, and power, and glory,
Distractions to ease internal suffering.
We need nothing but wings.
They’ll never understand our reasons,
For refusing the familiar.
We play between the rain and the wind.
They rip through trees and oceans,
To play with cars, houses, boats and each other.
We fly free tonight.
They crowd the streets below
Filed in rows of conformity.

good morning!

Monday, August 24, 2009

"As people (usually those in a romantic or potentially romantic spot) get to know one another, they open up. Good. Fine. But in doing so, some end up pulling themselves closer to the other person...rearranging themselves in such a way that their world stands or falls by the others. By not reciprocating this maneuver, you are accused of being cold and distant, when actually you never moved from where you've always been - they did. You haven't gone anywhere at all. Instead, you continue to acknowledge yourself (and them too) as individuals. The same individuals who first met and respected one another for the people they already were."

- In a letter from a viewer response to Backwards Validation.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

backwards validation

I’ve just finished reading Em’s Messiah post for the third time. The first two times I couldn’t find any common ground at all because I refused to admit that I needed validation of any kind from my relationships. Something made me keep coming back to read it again and this time around… I felt as though the words had been written for me. They were the exact same words I had read twice before but meant something entirely different. I need validation as much as the next person; it’s just not the same needy type that Em endures. I need reassurance that I can be free. That whoever I’m with will still be there for me, even if I am not around for a while. I need reassurance that if the romance ends, it doesn’t mean the person is out of my life entirely. There was this guy, and we’ll call him… Shawn, who is a perfect example of how I tend to ruin most potential relationships before they begin. From the first day we met he made it clear that he wanted something more then friendship and I resisted week after week, until finally we openly discussed it one day. I told him it just wasn’t the right time and I didn’t think it was a good idea. All the standard lines that offer a glimmer of hope. He seemed to accept it... until one night, we were at the same party and I spent most of the time chatting with one of his friends. One of his male friends. We were in full view of everyone else the whole time but we got really into the discussion and sort of ignored the people around us. Our talk seemed to really piss Shawn off and made him excessively hostile. Naturally (and immediately) I turned on my poisonous combination of aggressive defense. He had no right to be upset. I had done nothing but talk and had already made it perfectly clear that we weren’t going to be together. Even if what I was doing was not so undeniably innocent, we weren’t a couple, and he knew that. He wasn’t allowed to dictate what I chose to do with my time. Of course... he wasn’t trying to do that at all, he was just upset to see the time he had thought was spent with the girl he liked had been taken away. And so he used anger to cover what was probably disappointment.

Here’s the kicker though. I liked Shawn. Sometimes I wanted something more, but most times, I convinced myself that if it didn’t work out, then we’d both be left with nothing. I didn’t want to lose him as part of my life, but even more… I didn’t want to be the girl that he just wanted to kiss, I wanted to be the girl he wanted to get to know… even if it meant there was never going to be any kissing. I wanted him to see me for me, not as a potential girlfriend, but as someone he cared about even if he never got to take me on dates, or hold my hand, or bring me to meet his parents. After the party, I felt guilty, and I HATE feeling guilty, so I gave him an ultimatum. Maybe it wasn’t even an ultimatum; maybe it was a demand. Either way it was unfair... but I sincerely thought it would end a lot different then it did. I told him if we were going to spend any time together at all, he couldn’t let little things like that get to him, he couldn’t lash out and he couldn’t blame me. It was all or nothing. Take it or leave it. Deal or no deal. So… he chose to never come around at all, and that was the end. I never saw him again after that day and he’s moved away now. I was na├»ve to think he wouldn’t walk away. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be around someone you really like, trying to act nonchalant, when all you feel is rejected. I was already too far gone on my one track highway to loneliness and saw it as the last breaking point. We had never even been together and already he chose a life without me, opposed to a life with me as just a friend. It’s a twisted logic I know, but I’m going to fall back on the easy ol’ excuse of... that’s just who I am. I don’t fall for guys easily (or at least, I never used to) because I get scared. So scared that instead of falling back to the normal girl response and throwing myself at the man I like, trying to spend every waking minute with him, needing constant attention and phone calls and text messages, I do the exact opposite. I run away to make sure I can handle my life on my own, without him. And I suppose, testing that he can handle a life of his own as well. I need validation. I need reassurance; I just need it in the opposite way of most girls… most of the time. When I really think about it… now might be a good time to get over this extreme need for freedom and just… go with the flow. Take everyday as it comes and be willing to put myself out there without seven or eight thick cement reinforced barriers around my heart.

Walls don’t just keep the bad out, they keep the good out too.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

agnostic reasoning

I’ve read a few articles recently spouting off bullshit reasons to believe in God which have all had the opposite desired affect and this particular one REALLY bothered me. “Our planet Earth is so perfect, God MUST have created it for us.” Wow. I have grossly misinterpreted my Earth Studies classes, and my Dad must be a fake geologist… for we were both under the impression that this planet had been around for billions of years before we humans ever showed up. Weren’t there even these giant lizard things that roamed around for a while? Seriously!? The ability to twist logic to suit a specific purpose is a talent the religion pushers of the world have mastered to the highest degree. Earth was not made for us… we were made for Earth. Not by God, but by pure necessity. Our planet doesn’t have oxygen because we need it to live…we breathe oxygen because our planet had a bunch of it before we got here.

Monday, August 10, 2009

draw. an alien.

I had an awesome teacher my last year of highschool. He was that older man type of sexy eternal bachelor, had a crazy beard, rode a Harley in the summer, picked on kids in his own non-offensive way, would completely switch gears halfway through a lecture based on a question or comment from a student and was continually testing us with these random little psychological experiments. He handed out blank pieces of paper one day and said, “Draw a picture of an imaginary alien. I’m grading you on it. There are no requirements except the one I already told you. Draw. An alien. You have ten minutes.” Then he sat down at his desk and pulled out a Sudoku book. My best friend Lauren was in the class with me and we used this convenient time to chat as she was scribbling some lion-like creature with a red pen. I completely forgot about the assignment and when the teacher got up and started collecting the papers off desks (whether the student was done or not) I panicked a little. Shit. It’s been ten minutes already? I got one full circle penciled in before he ripped it out from under me. He brought them all to the front of class, shuffled through each one and called out names followed by “Ten out of ten.” Every name got a ten and I completely relaxed for a minute. Thank god it was just another one of those stupid assignments. Then… suddenly he called out, “Nick… what the hell is this?” He turned the paper around to us. It was blank except the tiny name scribbled in the corner and Nick, who sat beside me, replied, “My aliens invisible,” with a cocky smile. I have a feeling he was trying to impress someone and it could have been Lindsay, who sat on the other side of him, or maybe just the teacher… but it certainly didn’t work. “Oh… I’m sorry Nick, maybe you didn’t understand the requirements. I said DRAW and alien. So I’m going to ask you one more time. What. The hell. Is this?” The class was silent. Nick looked like he might just throw up… and Lindsay, along with the teacher and the entire class was staring at him. I gave a small sigh of relief, thinking how great it was that at least I drew SOMETHING, glanced from the blank paper back to Nick… and brilliance struck me. I leaned over and whispered to Nick for a minute, who looked back at the teacher with a smile... much less cocky this time and said,“It’s an alien that looks like the letters N-I-C-K.” The teacher smiled at us both and said, “Ten out of ten.” Lindsay smiled at Nick, Nick smiled back and we all lived happily ever after.

Friday, August 7, 2009

bored & happy

Right after playin in the rain!






drugs & pizza

Boston Pizza Penticton was both the stage and meeting place for a whole new group of anarchist druggies that enticed me over to the same kind of life. Perhaps I enticed myself as well, but I couldn’t have done it without them. We would smoke joints outside in the back parking lot and our boss caught us once. He hauled the whole stoner gang into his office all at once and I remember being so nervous… and then laughing my ass off after when all he told us was “If you’re going to be smoking pot, just step off the property so I can’t be charged.” Talk about giving unworthy permissions to be high at work. We pushed the limits by popping ecstasy 30 minutes before close with the supervisors. Sometimes for weeks in a row. The clean up always took half the usual time and was done to perfection, so I suppose even if anyone with veto power had suspected anything, they didn’t care as long as we weren’t dealing with customers and the job was being done. Nothing quite like a team of e-tards working for you behind the scenes. After repeatedly defying the hairnet rule, the manager decided I could wear a baseball cap instead… and so I threw on a black one backwards and relished in my glory. The servers loved me because I wasn’t a bitch to them when I worked the front line and was faster then most. They brought me smoothies made with vodka without telling anyone they were alcoholic. (I was underage). I worked almost everyday trying to pay for my excessive lifestyle and made almost as much money as I could waste. In the end the drugs got the best of me and when Jason (my best friend, co-worker and the only thing keeping me together) told me he was moving back to his hometown... I completely broke down and screamed at him in the middle of my street and slammed the door in his face while he tried to explain. I didn’t leave my house for a few days and when I finally decided to try and go back to work, it wasn’t the same… I couldn’t be there without him and just didn’t show up when I didn’t feel like it. So they fired me, and I moved on.

ice-cream cult

Oh the innocence of a young, fresh-off-the-farm girl moving to Penticton, BC and becoming entrapped and awestruck by the local ice cream heaven. It was only two blocks from my house, although since we lived at 324 Penticton Avenue, there were a lot of things only two blocks from my house. My mom didn’t have a lot of money for us to spend on “things” and so I got a job. And I’m not saying that as though it was easy. Ohhhh no. The Penticton Dairy Queen family is a cult-like organization. Owned by the same woman who runs the local theatre club and dance hall and even the I-cant-believe-this-tradition-still-exists Miss Penticton Pageant. I printed out a resume embellished as hell and came back over and over again. I flirted with the cute boy behind the grill (and by flirted I mean awkwardly tried to get his attention while waiting for my fries or repeatedly wandering back to the counter to ask for extra liners, or forks, or gravy). I finally arrived one day when the owner was there and she gave me a chance based on sheer persistence. As it turns out, the DQ family was a cult I turned out to love. I had a crush on Marty the grill guy for years and perfected the art of a chocolate dipped cone. I had a strawberry milkshake thrown on me by a withered old woman paying by debit card who was furiously enraged at the 25-cent charge. I resisted the overwhelming urge to throw quarters at her. My first boyfriend lived almost exactly in between my house and the Dairy Queen. Our first fight was when he got drunk and forgot to come walk me home. My shift ended at midnight… which in the mind of a newly urbanized 15 year-old girl, is the perfect time for drug pushers and axe murderers to lurk around fast food parking lots. I still maintain the anger was justified. After closing we would set up a stereo next to the PA system and blast ABBA or NOFX or Jack Johnson. I hid behind the dumpster to scare Robin one night and made her cry. Not the most considerate thing to do I’ll admit, but she laughed about it once she realized I was neither a drug pusher nor an axe murderer. I became frustrated with ignorant demanding customers easily and learned the grill too so I could escape once in a while. All in all... I’d say Dairy Queen was the perfect first job for me, and I loved it even when I hated it.

off-balance UPSWING

Riding
On spiral strings,
Thrown off balance
I’ve won
The challenge
And lost
What I didn’t want.
And lost
What didn’t matter.
Tossed and crossed
With all I found
When I wasn’t looking.
The ice
Is melting
Someone
Help me
Understand the upswing.

hebetude \HEB-uh-tood-; -tyood\, noun: Mental dullness or sluggishness.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Laughter... the most civilized music in the world.
- Peter Ustinov

He that reads his Bible to find fault with it will soon discover that the Bible finds fault with him.
-C.H. Spurgeon

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

desultory fish princess

Ten points if you know what the title adjective means. It was my dictionary.com word of the day, and I've decided to become briefly attached to it, then quickly move on to something completely unrelated… for no reason really, except my own wanderlust tendencies. I was six years old and I still remember exactly what I was wearing on my first day of school. My best sweater, the yellow one with long sleeves I could pull over my hands, the shiny silver flower clip in my hair, my brand new “inside shoes” were white with black stripes on the Velcro. I looked like every other normal six year old stepping into the classroom for the first time… except of course I wasn’t anything like any of the other six year olds. I was me. Little Miss Mischievous hidden behind the golden face of pure Canadian country life innocence. If you’ve ever read Little House in the Big Woods, then that was me… only a generation later. We had a truck. We had a satellite phone that could be hooked up to a battery for emergencies, we had propane tanks for our stovetops and refrigerator, and a huge brick inlayed wood stove. We had a gas generator, kerosene lanterns (with proper replaceable wicks) a plethora of candles inspired by my hippie mother. We even had one small TV set we could watch movies on if we were good, or in my case, if we were simply convincing enough. I remember asking my friends to lend me the movies I thought my parents would like just so I could have a suitable bargaining tool. I may have been six years old, and I may have looked exactly the way I was supposed to look, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to experience that first day of school. I shuffled through the doors and stood awestruck, staring at the majestic, glorious and magnificent setting for millions of little girl dreams all over the world. There was a castle built in my first grade classroom. Okay… so it was made of foam and cardboard, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes away. I could barely think about anything else as I took my seat and everything around me melted away. I cared only about that castle and the all-consuming need to have my princess wish materialize right there in front of me. I think I remember it so clearly because I was the true opposite of a princess. I shot squirrels with pellet guns for fun, could gut and clean a fish fast enough that I considered it a talent, ran barefoot all summer and laughed while killing ants with a magnifying glass. The pink pointy hat with the ribbon flowing down, sitting visibly right there in the castle, represented everything that I wasn’t… everything I had seen in those Disney movies I borrowed… everything that I wanted. I was Cinderella, and that castle was my chance to find and lose an imaginary glass slipper. I finally snapped out of it and listened to my teacher for a while, focusing intently only when she explained the rules of playtime. There were stations. PAINTING, PUZZLES, LEGO … and oh yes… CASTLE. I’m sure there was more that I cant remember now, but we each had little gingerbread people cutouts with our names on them. To choose a station we just hooked them on one of the pegs below each name. The castle had five pegs and before I even knew what was happening, they were all filled. One little girl stomped away to sulk in a corner; another simply hung her cutout man over another cutout man and screamed when the teacher said she couldn’t do that. I watched. I watched my dreams fade away from me as I realized, they weren’t my dreams at all. They were everyone’s dreams. In an instant, I no longer loved that castle. In fact, I didn’t even care about it one little bit. I put my gingerbread man named Heather on the PUZZLE peg, because it only had two hooks, and no one else wanted it. For days I just smiled as everyone else -even the boys (for there were also foam swords in the castle) - fought over those five pegs. Eventually the excitement dwindled and I decided to try the castle. As I expected, it was a disappointment. I wasn’t a princess and no pink hat or makeshift towers could change that....

.....besides, the castles I created in my head were so much better… and they were all mine.

lost in translation (2003)

Two of my favourite scenes in the whole world come from the movie “Lost in Translation.” The first being when the “premium fantasy" girl shows up in Mr. Harris’ room to say… “Lipp my stocking! Lipp dem!” And the second is at the hospital with the slightly insane archaic old man who is having a seemingly perfect conversation with Mr Harris despite the fact that they cannot understand each other whatsoever and the two women in the background are laughing their asses off. Watch this movie if you haven’t yet. It’s amazing.

Monday, August 3, 2009

deadly combo*

The complete immersion of pacsquatch08 (a term coined by krumbine himself) comes to us today in the form of...

Bacon flavoured Icecream. Mmmmm.

(COSART) 3 = fear of GOD

‘Tis a distorted concept in my agnostized mind, this distress over a supreme being I’m not quite sure exists at all. It is written in Proverbs 1: 7 that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge,” and I feel like I am being torn through two sides of the same fence. I am arguing with myself, half trying to justify that perhaps, fearing God is not the same as being afraid of God. Perhaps a bit of apprehension is necessary to show deep respect and create a humbling reverence for His majestic authority. Almost similar to the fear you have of your boss, although on a much smaller scale, for your boss only signs your paycheck, while Jesus is not only responsible for every great and glorious thing in this world, He’s also the one true judge of sin and it is He who creates, destroys, rewards and punishes those as He deems fit. No one deserves that much power, but if He has acquired it nonetheless, then hell yeah I’m fearful. Compared to God, I am an unclean, morally questionable, cloaked in sin, anarchist disaster, and if it is He who will stand and deliver judgment on me at the end of the day, I have every reason to believe I would be cast away in shame and disgust, and so, begins my journey to the other half of the fence, the slightly taller side in this case, which is telling me I try too hard to satisfy the reasoning behind twisted notions like this one. Proverbs 22:4 writes “the reward of humility and the fear of the Lord are riches, honor and life.” There are so many things wrong with that sentence, not the least of which has riches listed first on the reward scale for humility. Does this mean that the lower my self confidence, the more apprehensive and sobering my thoughts become when centered on God, the more money I will make? It is not honorable to be weak, or submissive… and life cannot be used as a prize for obedience to Christian values. My life is mine, and even if it is He who gave it to me, it does not remain the property of God to withhold if He believes I do not fear Him quite enough. Proverbs 10:27 says “the fear of the Lord prolongs life.” Now there’s a sell point if I ever saw one. Fear me, fear my wrath, fear my judgement, be spineless, be manipulated, be meek and humble… and I shall bless you with longer life! Poof, you just got ten more years! I’m sorry Tripp, but from this side of the fence, that sounds like total bullshit. If he has the power to lengthen life expectancy, then we can infer that he also has the power to look down at others and say… you, oh confident one, shall DIE tomorrow for not trembling in church every Sunday. God is a contradiction within a paradox. In my imagination, He’s sitting there on a morally pure pedestal, turning his nose up at the lesser creatures He created yelling…
“I love you… Now fear me! I am everything and you are nothing!” If He made us, then He knows our limitations, He knows our strengths and our weaknesses, and He consciously instilled us with the ability to disbelieve in Him, yet when we do, He says we are unworthy, He says we are wrong, we are sinful, we are evil and ungodly, we deserve to be punished, we will not be granted access to the realms of heaven. It seems like every Christian success is so easily transferred over as a success of God, but every failure, every person tortured or murdered or sacrificed in the name of the Lord, is simply human error. How unbelievably convenient. I am getting off track, and more frustrated with every word. So much in fact, that I have no way to balance the bias of this entry, and no way to close with a cohesive argument, so instead, Ill just say… God, if you’re listening… you created humans in your image, yet you are fully pure, while we are imperfect, we are flawed, we are capable of both great and horrible things – but you cannot pick and choose which ones you take responsibility for. If you are to be the almighty power in the world, then it must be the entire world, in all its horror and glory. You must accept that there will be those who do not fear you, and will never fear you, for reasons of their own, but it does not make them less important or less knowledgeable then those that do. I am an imperfect person, and if you are not, then you must already understand that I cannot be anyone else then who I am, I can not believe in you simply because others tell me it is right. I cannot bow my head and kiss your feet because it is written in an ancient story book that I should do so. I cannot fear that which I do not understand.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

STIB #3: above and below

This time, my Song Title Inspired Blog comes from ‘Above and Below’ by The Bravery. For some reason unknown to me at this moment, I immediately thought of the internal struggle to answer the all-impending question of doom. Who am I? Is more of myself shown above the surface, within the things others can see or hear, the things I do, the places I go, the people I meet? I don’t think so. I think that’s just the tip of the iceberg. More of who I am is beyond what the outside world can touch. It is my world. Full of my thoughts, hopes, dreams, secrets, desires and imagination. Every so often, a little bit of the iceberg creeps up above the waterline and is visible to those around me. Sometimes it only stays for a minute, bobbing awkwardly. Sometimes it is slammed down further then where it started, never to creep back up again. But sometimes... the times that matter the most, is when the really good pieces emerge from way down below, and stay above forever. When whatever little bit I choose to show, is finally what the world actually sees.

if you happen to be a billionaire...