Regrets, I’ve had a few…

Don’t know about anyone else around here, but I always like to set aside a little bit of time every day – not much, maybe 10 or 15 minutes, tops – for thinking about the past and all the things/people I did that I shouldn’t have, or didn’t do that I should have. I try not to dwell on any of it too much because in the absence of a time machine, there just isn’t all that much a person can do about the past.

In fact, as Jess Fink demonstrates, sometimes even a properly functioning time machine can’t help.


It’s Canada Day up Canada way



Here in Canada, we like to begin our birthday observance the same way we start every day, and that’s with a hearty rendition of the national anthem, er, national anthem, followed by a light breakfast with a little quiet introspection until lunch time. After lunch, we all head down to the public square and engage in well-mannered public policy debate and Kim Mitchell appreciation. Early to bed has us at the top of our game for more of the same the next day. Oh, Canada.

The Polaris Prize long list is here!

40, count’em, 40 of Canada’s most ‘artistic’ albums that were released between June 1, 2008 and May 31, 2009, competing in a brutal all-out battle for the title of Most La- Di-freakin’-Da of the Year, and the $20K prize that comes with it.

17 of the nominees are from Montreal, 11 from Toronto, and the rest of the country gets to fight over the scraps. 

In the absence of a nominee from good ol’ E-Town, I’ll say my prayers every night on behalf of the Pink MountaintopsOutside Love, because not only does Steve McBean rule, but this album rules too, thanks in part to the work of guitarist Josh Stevenson, a member of the Edmonton Diaspora, former CJSR volunteer, and over-pronouncer of the ‘l’ in ‘salsa’.

The thing of it is…

I believe it was TV that once said, “It is in dark times like this, when it seems like our celebrities will not stop dying (or whatever), that it is most important to seek joy in the simpler things, like cool tricks.”

Some will argue that cool tricks are alright for awhile, but ultimately we need more. ‘We need something to believe in’ is what these people will say. I happen to agree with them, and I feel secure in knowing that I made the right choice a long time ago.

Tell me about the bunker, George.

Though I’m as guilty as anyone for using it, ‘bunker’ does not even begin to do the place justice. I could go on and on, but it’s a secret.

Obligatory Michael Jackson conspiracy theory

Michael Jackson is dead. Or is he? You can believe the mainstream media if you want, or you can believe that he faked his own death in order to escape a) bill collectors, b) the pressure from his planned “reemergence,”  c) the supreme daily pain-in-the-assness of being a ultramegasuperduberstar, and/or d) any or all of the above, plus e) any other rationales, realistic or feverish, that might be attributed to a man of Michael Jackson’s demeanour, for wanting to pretend to be dead when he is not, in fact, dead. 

Anyway. Something nobody can quite fathom at any point before they become a Ridiculously Huge Star is that Ridiculously Huge Stars can’t just up and retire like you and I can retire. Considerably more drastic measures are required. Surely you’ve heard of the secret, seven-story deep bunker that Elvis Presley had built underneath Graceland, prior to faking his own death? MJ lives there now with Elvis and certain other ‘dead’ celebrities.* You don’t have to be sad for him anymore.

It’s just, the thing of it is…

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Michael Jackson vs Farrah Fawcett (vs Ed McMahon)

Yeah yeah, I know he sold a lot of records and invented the moonwalk and was just so…Michael Jackson. I won’t dispute much of what you would say about his influence on music, on popular culture, on celebrity freakshowdom. I couldn’t possibly.

But, speaking as a man who was once a puberty-stricken boy, I LOVED Farrah Fawcett

And oh yeah, Ed McMahon.

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