Monday, August 08, 2005

[Not] Caught Up In The Mechanism

Today, I will finally play an entire game of Jenga. Today, I will pick up the new edition of Heeb. Today, I will meet an old friend from Ontario down on Whyte Ave. Today, I might diagram an imaginary peace tower for the capital of Libya. I might finally finish that last section of Splinter Cell. I might watch Say Anything. Oh, sweet life's ambition! Today, I am OFF WORK.

Reading: Well, I was re-reading The Rule Of Four, but now it's in Winnipeg, so that's not happening anymore. I've started reading this other book, then, a historical psychothriller taking place on a Dutch East India ship called Batavia. Only picked it up in Chapters for the Batavia reference, because—outside of this circle of one—I don't know anybody who even knows about that wreck, nevermind cares enough to base a whole novel on it. Think that famous painting where everybody's cannibal-style on the raft, insert Hitler or Herod as the narrator, and you've started thinking along the lines of the too-much-titled The Company: Portrait Of A Murderer: A Novel + Arabella Edge

[Editor's note: I just CANNOT seem to italicize the title of E's novel without throwing off the coding for the whole page, which results in an ugly white line riding the right hand side of the post box. I can't even italicize this note without screwing things up! Therefore we shall sorrowfully close our MLA guidelines for today.]

Listening: Bit sore in the wallet. Pockets a little sniffly round the edges. Sure enough, I came down with a bad case of poverty leading up to this weekend. Don't you just HATE that? Seems like I always catch a case over the summer, and this has been a bad summer. One of the side-effects? No Folkfest. That's a tough one. Useless! Bad enough to miss Loreena McKennit restarting her singing career after a five-year absence of the most miserable Shelley-and-Byron (insert "esque") tragedy, but Sunday night? Sunday night, I (insert "de") finitely wanted to be there. Let's check the list: Carolyn Mark, Martha Wainwright, Alison Krauss. Dammit, each of these singers is good enough to make the weekend her own, nvr (insert vowels) mind all three in one evening on the hill. Whatever, alright! Whatever. So today I'm listening to Alison Krauss (let's face it, Martha is for late nights and Diana Rigg fans, and so is Carolyn, minus the Avengers bit), because Alison is wonderful and earnest, especially when the car's wheels softly bite an early-morning gravel road, and she makes one realize the wonderful (scratch "wonderful", insert appropriate synonym) seriousness of life. If you don't believe it, hum softly to yourself and listen to "The Scarlet Tide" + Alison Krauss

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