Limes with Orange

My horoscope for May 10, the day of my grandmother's funeral:

"You face a new challenge today -- one that may demand more of you than recent events have. It's a good time to enlist support from outside or to work on developing new coping skills."

Labels: things that make you go hmm

No Coward Soul is Mine
by Emily Brontë
(This is the last poem that by Emily Brontë ever wrote.)

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear.

O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life, that in me has rest,
As I, undying Life, have power in Thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by Thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.

With wide-embracing love
Thy Spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.

Though earth and moon were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou wert left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou — Thou art Being and Breath,
And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

Dedicated to Isabel (Dixon) Goodine
March 18, 1922 — May 5, 2008

Labels: poetry

I'm about to post about something I can barely bring myself to think about, but I believe it needs to be discussed. There's this "artist" that was brought to my attention through Facebook. I had so hoped would turn out to be another Facebook hoax, but I have yet to be able to debunk it:

In 2007, Guillermo Vargas Habacuc, a so called artist, took an abandoned dog from the streets, tied him to a very short rope to a wall in an art gallery, and left a kettle of food on the other side of the room, beyond his reach, and left him there to slowly die of hunger and thirst.

The gallery exhibition was real. That much I have been able to confirm. The details vary widely from site to site. Some claim that the dog was only tied up for the three hours a day and that it escaped back to the streets after a few days. Others claim even worse details than those stated in the Facebook group. One blog claims to have a statement from the artist:

The purpose of the work was not to cause any type of infliction on the poor, innocent creature, but rather to illustrate a point. In my home city of San Jose, Costa Rica, tens of thousands of stray dogs starve and die of illness each year in the streets and no one pays them a second thought.

Now, if you publicly display one of these starving creatures, such as the case with Nativity, it creates a backlash that brings out a big of hypocrisy in all of us. Nativity was a very sick creature and would have died in the streets anyway.

Is that actually the artist's statement? I don't know. Is there more to the statement that describes that actual exhibit? I don't know. Some bloggers have read the article in the Guardian and been placated. I, personally, would feel better about that stance if there were more legitimate news stories to back it up. Other bloggers say that PETA is already aware of it, but I find no mention of it on their blog. Snopes, the site that I usually look to for debunking, has the status of this rumour as Undetermined. So I really don't know what to believe.

Now I don't usually post about something when I don't have all the facts but this is just so disturbing and, unfortunately, too easy to believe. So assuming this to be true, here's my rant…

If the "artist" REALLY cared about the plight of these dogs there is no way on this earth that he would have killed one so slowly and so cruelly. What could he have done if his intention was REALLY altruistic? Let's see… record the dogs on the street with video, film or photographs, pretend to be the dog yourself in the gallery, hire an actor to be the dog, use paint, sculpture or cuts of meat from a butcher to create a symbolic dog, combine any or all of the above with other images or installations to allow the viewer to make connections that weren't apparent before. By God man, there are infinite humane ways to shed light on this issue. If this "artist" was REALLY trying to do as he claims, he was--in the words of Joan of Arcadia--suffering from a failure of imagination. So what kind of "artist" does that make him? A fraud and a hack. And what kind of a person does that make him? Well, let's just say that I believe this man deserves to experience everything that he forced that dog to experience. Everything.

And if it turns out that the Guardian article is true and the dog was actually fed during the run of the exhibit? Well (a) if you look at pictures of the dog (I couldn't stand to post them here, but just Google and you'll see), that dog should have been at the vet's not on display at a gallery and (b) it still ain't art. Art requires imagination. And for my comments about the imagination of this "artist", see above rant.

Labels: animals, art and photography, rant

Well, my car Ripley has been found. She is currently being inspected to make sure that her damage isn't greater than her value (as determined by the insurance company, obviously, because her value to me is unquestionable). I am fully covered this time, unlike with Newt. But I now understand, in a visceral rather than intellectual way, why people say they feel violated when they see the state of their car after it was recovered from theft. There was garbage and various oddments that they obviously didn't care to keep littered throughout the car, all of my cds plus my subwoofer had been stolen, the extra programs that I had picked up at the $100 Film Festival to use for future grant applications were gone, my glove compartment had been rifled through and the whole car stank of cigarette smoke and had butts on the floor. I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to cry at the same time. I tried to tell myself that I should be grateful that Ripley had been found at all and that so far it looked as though she could be salvaged, but my guts are still trying to fall in step with my brain. I think it might take a little while.

Labels: ripley

Well, I never got around to writing the retrospective post about buying a car to replace poor Newt who got smashed last summer. But I did end up finding a beautiful '95 red Honda Civic SI coupe with tinted windows and a flowmaster exhaust (which I thought I was going to replace but I've actually learned to love it). I called her Ripley because--being a bigger, faster Civic--I kind of thought of her as Newt's older sister. (That will make sense to fans of "Aliens" but probably nobody else.)

But I never took Ripley's picture and now it may be too late. Ripley was stolen on Tuesday night. I think I'm still in denial, as I'm remarkably calm. Mostly.

BUT I WANT RIPLEY BACK!!! So if anyone sees a '95 red civic coupe (generic photo shown) parked or driving around Calgary, with a crack going straight up the front windshield on the passenger's side and a burnt out headlight on the driver's side (plus moon roof, rear spoiler, tinted rear windows and flowmaster exhaust, which you cannot miss hearing)... please call the police and report it ASAP. Thanks muchly.

Labels: newt, odds and ends, ripley

Just wanted to remind everyone that my short film "Coda in G Minor" screens at the $100 Film Festival this Friday, March 14. The festival runs from March 13-15 at the Plaza Theatre, starting at 7pm each night. Advance tickets are available at the CSIF or Casablanca Video, but tickets will also be available at the door. For more information about the $100 Film Festival, go to the official festival site or check out the $100 Film Festival on B-Side Entertainment or MySpace.

I've also started a blog for "Coda" where I'll post future screenings along with information about my process and influences. (Yes, a film can have a blog of its own!)

P.S. Any follow up about "Coda in G Minor" will be on the Coda blog from now on.

Labels: film

More Tories than ever? Are you fracking kidding me?

"Voter turnout Monday hit a new record low" (The Canadian Press)

No sh!t, Sherlock. The conspiracy theorist in me starts to look at the fact that they moved a whole slew of polling stations but didn't bother to send that information out to many of us nor did they publish that information in any of the newspapers (something that used to be standard practice). No, they only posted that information on a website that crashed because of too much traffic yesterday... gee, how could they possibly have predicted the site would get so much traffic on election day?

Are you buying that bullsh!t? Because I'm not.

Labels: politics, rant

I went by the CSIF yesterday to drop off the film print of "Coda in G Minor" for the $100 Film Festival (Did I mention that it got accepted?! It's screening on Friday, March 14 at 7pm at the Plaza!) and I ended up picking up passes to see "Cidade dos Homens (City of Men)."

The IMDb plot outline: "Best buddies Acerola and Laranjinha, about to turn 18, discover things about their missing fathers' pasts which will shatter their solid friendship, in the middle of a war between rival drug gangs from Rio's favelas."

Quite frankly, that's not a description that would lure me into the theatres. I'm usually not interested in films that focus on gang violence. But I took the passes because of the involvement of producer Fernando Meirelles (dir. "The Constant Gardener") and the beauty of the trailers. Now, having seen the movie, I have to say that the gang war in the movie is mostly just a backdrop for the human story between the two boys. And it's a beautiful story, well acted and stunningly filmed. While the events going on around the boys may be heavy, the film somehow portrays a childlike innocence that it maintains, regardless of external influences.

And so the question becomes: can these innocent boys grow up to be good men in a city where the greatest challenge is simply survival? The answer... all that I'll say is that the answer is definitely worth the journey.

Labels: film

I'm having a crappy day and the few people that I actually talk to about my problems are either the cause of them, trying to head shrink me or watching the $#@%! academy awards. You might be expecting me to be watching it, too. And I was looking forward to it, albeit only because Jon Stewart is hosting. But I'm in no mood to gain enjoyment from it now, so why make myself feel worse by watching something that I know I ought to be enjoying but I can't because of my crappy day that I can't vent about.

I was hoping that I would feel better after writing here but, because I refuse to publicize the details about my day, it really is doing nothing to exorcise my demons. I guess it was worth a shot, but it's done frack all. I'm still pissed off, crying and missing Jon Stewart making fun of Hollywood. Can we please skip the rest of today and just wake up tomorrow? Please?

Labels: rant

Those of you who know my peacenik tendencies may be surprised to learn that I've been following The Discovery Channel's Jetstream, a show about fighter pilot training. But I started watching the show because my screenwriting instructor's sister-in-law is one of the pilots on it (and she's very cool).

I've continued to watch the show because it's well made and I'm curious to watch Riel's progress (she just got a "superior" on her latest flight on the show!). As I've been watching, I also happended to develop a crush on one of the other pilots. Imagine... ME having a crush on a military man. A hunky, hockey playing, good-natured fighter pilot trainee. That would be Tim Coffin. Unfortunately, he's been struggling on a few phases of the training. In tonight's episode, the powers that be called a meeting to review his progress. And the verdict was... disappointing, to say the least. Tim has been ordered to cease training. And apparently you never get a second chance. So it's the end of his dream.

I'm familiar with the heartbreak of lost dreams. And I don't mean dreams that are random, vague or a million miles out of reach. I mean those so-close-you-can-taste-them kind of dreams. To lose those dreams... it can be devastating.

But something else I'm familiar with... you get more than one dream in a lifetime. It can take a very long time to discover your next dream when the one before has been crushed. But if you've dreamt once, you will be able to dream again. I promise.

Labels: tv

I was trying to find out if today is a civic holiday in Manitoba (because I'm trying to reach Winnipeg's Globe Theatre to find out whether they're screening "Walk All Over Me" on February 22nd or February 29th, so that I can update the WAOM MySpace site) and today is that weird little civic holiday in Alberta on the third Monday of February called Family Day. I discovered that Saskatchewan and even Ontario now have a Family Day, but in Manitoba they decided to name their new February civic holiday after Louis Riel. Personally, I think that's a way better reason to commemorate a day than simply having "Family Day" (I wonder how many people ACTUALLY spend it with their families?). So welcome to the inaugural Louis Riel Day!

Labels: special days

I would like to start this post addressed to any US Democrats that happen to stumble across my blog by saying that you have two excellent political candidates in the running for the Presidential election this year. However (and call me a conspiracy theorist if you like), I think it is fair to say that the Republicans WANT Obama to win your nomination at the Democratic convention this summer because they believe they can beat him. And I believe that they would be right, not because he is unsuitable but simply because he lacks the necessary experience.

Please, please, please... when the Democratic convention comes around, remember that the dream team is truly Hilary Clinton for President and Barack Obama for Vice President (and I do think Clinton would see the good sense in having Obama as a running mate). Let him gain his experience in the Vice Presidency and take the proper time to groom him for the Presidency. If you nominate him now, I think you will lose the election and could end up demolishing a promising career. Just something to think about from someone whose country is very much affected by the presidential policies of your country.

Labels: politics

Watching Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles...

John Connor and his Terminator bodyguard Cameron getting into Sarah's car after school:

JOHN: I call shotgun.
CAMERON: I call 9mm.

Labels: tv

Once again, I am late in posting birthday wishes to my laconic, erudite, guitar playing friend Brian. (My sister gave me a perpetual calendar to keep track of birthdays; a great idea! But it only works if you remember to actually look at it... go figure.) But I finally figured out the problem in my slightly warped brain:

I'm bad with birthdays to start with and only really remember those of my immediate family. Even then, I tend to remember astrological signs before I remember the actual birthdates. (I blame my mother for that particular oddity.) So my sister's a Capricorn, my mother's Aquarius and my dad is Gemini.

For some reason, I can remember that Brian is an Aquarius but that equates to February in my mind because that's when my mother's birthday is. The result, unfortunately, is that I never remember Brian's birthday until I start thinking about my mother's birthday. So Brian, I'm going to try to embed into my brain that you are Aquarius on the cusp of Capricorn and maybe I'll remember in time next year!

But for now, I just hope you had as much fun on your birthday as these crazy sharks seem to be having!

Labels: special days

If Miss America was really intent on updating their image and crowning an "It Girl," why did Miss Alaska not make the semi-finals? And why did they still crown a Barbie?

Labels: tv