Archive for the ‘Op-Ed’ Category

17
Feb
2010

A Night of Television

No Comments

jody!

by Jody Coughlin

I watched Anderson Cooper’s AC 360 on CNN recently and I really don’t care what some people might say, I think he (Cooper) delivers some very decent, fair reporting laced with a refreshing amount of basic human compassion and common sense. He’s my kind of boy, that Mr. Cooper, and I have been watching his coverage of the earthquake in Haiti from the start.

One night in particular he reported on a story about a five year old boy who was rescued from the rubble in Haiti. I believe his name is Monley. Well, if you are following the story as I have been you would know that Monley was rescued after 8 days under the rubble with no food or water. Amazing. Yet, after he was reasonably back onto his feet he was sent from the makeshift hospital that took him in and into the world to live in a tent with his brothers and his uncle. A vacant look in his eyes said everything he didn’t seem to be able to say with words of his own as he was being filmed for the news story. Both his mom and dad died in the quake. The last I heard Monley did not know the truth about his parents. His uncle didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth about their demise. I don’t blame him. That would be a tough call by any stretch of the imagination.

Essentially, Monley’s recovery from dehydration and starvation came within days of proper care and treatment. The grief and sorrow and challenges ahead of this boy will not come nearly as easily and it will take years to work through the kind of pain and grief he will undoubtedly suffer as time goes on, I think to myself.

Then, I flipped the channel to CTV and there it was. The opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. A source of national pride indeed. At first, I watched with a mild form of skepticism. There were girls dressed in what looked like white, space-suit mini skirts, carrying the various banners that stated the names of all the various countries as they marched around. Not bad, I guess. Well… Then again. Never mind. Back to CNN.

This time, on CNN, the story was about a girl who had to have surgery to remove chunks of cement from her brain. She had spent her recovery in what she thought was a hospital in the United States only to discover she was actually aboard a floating hospital (the USS Comfort) and she was still in Haiti. He father could not afford the fare to pick her up so a rescue worker took her to her father instead. As she left the ship she beheld the destruction of her country, her city and her home. She found out her sister and mom both died in the earthquake. She reportedly didn’t remember anything at all about the earthquake. The sequence ended with this young girl, a child, sitting on a stool clutching a bag of belongings. I imagine she was trying to make sense of it all. There was just so much for her to take in at once.

Then I flipped back to the coverage of the Olympics. The marching around was all but over. The team from the country of Georgia sported black arm bands in honor of the athlete who died (yes, died) in training practice on the luge just hours earlier that same day. He was traveling almost 150 kms/hour on the luge when he wrecked and suffered fatal injuries. But, the games must go on, right? I can’t imagine how the remaining athletes from this country feel right about now.

Anyway, on with the story. I didn’t see the entire event, but just before the games officially opened there was a performance art show which, I must say, was pretty impressive. The gist of it was about the beauty and diversity of Canada, the landscapes, the various cultures, our penchant for down playing our successes and our tendencies to always say please, thank-you and you are welcome. Well, obviously that part impressed me and I wondered if maybe I was too harsh in declaring that the Olympics should be cancelled. Maybe, but I doubt it.

Back to CNN. This time around Cooper was covering an event where the surviving Haitians had gathered in front of the Presidential Palace. There were hundreds of Haitians there. Thousands of Haitians, probably. They had gathered to recognize and mourn the loss of loved ones and they had also gathered to sing and worship and lift their voices as though they were declaring their presence and faith in the face of the devastation that surrounded them. They were making a joyful noise. There was hope in their song and hope on their faces.

Back to the Olympics. Again I saw hope as people watched the artistic performance. From moment to moment drapes and sheets of some otherworldly material were transformed into fields of unending wheat or high peaked mountain ranges. It was beautiful to behold on television and most likely it was breathtaking to witness first hand.

I began to tally it all up in my mind. I saw hope in Haiti and hope in Vancouver. It seemed like the whole world was feeling a little hopeful within the last 24 hours starting with the poorest and most troubled and finishing with the most fortunate and privileged. It was a common thread. One that I liked. I had seen this kind of thing before. I saw it when Barak Obama was elected. Everybody was happy that day. Well, mostly everyone.

I think there is a lesson I need to learn in all of this. On the one hand, we need to celebrate our life here on this amazing planet and on the other hand, if we don’t help the person next to us when they are in need, then eventually hope is lost and there is nothing to celebrate. It seems to me there could and should be a natural sequence happening here. Help those in need first and celebrate second. It could work, couldn’t it? But it doesn’t work that way. It never has and probably never will.

The endings of these two stories are very different, if my imagination serves me correctly. Today the athletes probably woke up to a healthy meal and a bright and sunny future. They have worked hard to gain such an achievement as being a part of the Olympics, I suppose, and they will be catered to because of their achievements. Is there anything wrong with that? I don’t know. Probably not.

In Haiti however, Monley and the young girl who lost her mom and sister woke up to a grumbling belly, you can be sure, and a future that seems anything but bright and sunny. I know for certain they don’t deserve that. Nobody does.

I don’t know why I am so doggedly comparing the Olympics to the crisis in Haiti, but that is where my mind goes lately. Maybe it is my own personal need to sort this stuff out. Maybe I just relish the idea of pointing out the obvious. Or maybe I am just hopeful that things will balance out somewhere along the line.

Different Endings1

Tags: , , , , , , ,
Posted in Art, Op-Ed

read more
04
Feb
2010

“Which one’s Pink?” – The folly of company executives in creative industries

5 Comments

mattjones

by Matt Jones

In the first Futurama comeback movie, Bender’s Big Score, one of the best jokes is the recurring gag item, Torgo’s Executive Powder. A thinly veiled jab at Fox for its perceived mismanagement of Futurama, Torgo’s is made of ground-up executives, and is said to have “a-million-and-one uses.” That may be a-million-and-one more than non-ground-up executives.

What is an executive, anyway? We hear the term thrown around a lot, but all too often executive, producer and many other titles are all thrown together. Let’s agree on this: an executive is a management member of a company assigned to watch over a certain sector of said company. The lower executives answer to the chief executive officer (CEO), who is one of the highest authorities above the other executives.

Now, let’s not get bogged down with stereotypes and ignorance. There are probably many executives who are very well-suited to the work they do. There are probably many who do genuinely good work and reap positive results for both their superiors and their staff. But we never hear about those executives. Beyond a company newsletter, you’ll never see the headline, “Executive does great work.” What you will see are headlines about how executives, through their effect on creative talents, cause difficulties in the entertainment industry. And that is our focus today: executives in the entertainment and creative industries.

The biggest problem is this: executives care most and almost only about the bottom line; they care about how much money is being made. Being creative and artistic does not necessarily improve that bottom line, and similarly, focusing on the bottom line does not necessarily result in interesting or exciting art. An executive’s directive to alter creative work to make it more profitable can have disastrous effects.

NBC, The Tonight Show and the greatest comedy duo of all time, Zucker and Ebersol

conan-and-jay

Ostensibly, NBC’s current problems are a result of low ratings for both Conan O’Brien’s The Tonight Show and Jay Leno’s prime time show — particularly Leno’s, which was hurting the lead-ins for local news shows. The executive solution: move Leno back to late night and move O’Brien back to late, late night. What the executives didn’t foresee, or didn’t care about, was that O’Brien would see this move as cutting the legs off The Tonight Show franchise, and he would not stand for it (so to speak). NBC and O’Brien have reached a settlement, and Leno is expected to return to The Tonight Show after the Olympics.

Dick Ebersol, NBC executive since time immemorial and currently in charge of sports, has been very vocal about O’Brien’s poor ratings, describing him as an “astounding failure.” Ebersol further declared that he had personally offered to help O’Brien increase his ratings, but was rebuked.

Can O’Brien really be blamed for not taking advice from Dick Ebersol?

Ebersol was one of the original creators of Saturday Night Live (SNL), but after Lorne Michaels left in 1980, the program entered into what some fans refer to as the Dark Ages of SNL. Ebersol soon took over the show and attempted to salvage it. After consistently low ratings and clashes with writers and cast members over the tone Ebersol wanted for the show, as well as accusations that he did not understand comedy (particularly the type of comedy that SNL produced), Michaels was brought back to save the franchise.

Ebersol has also been heavily criticized for his approach to Olympic Games coverage, and he presided over a period where NBC lost the rights to broadcast the NFL, MLB and NBA, among others. And, to top that off, he was also one of the driving forces behind the disastrous XFL, which produced record low ratings.

So in what way, precisely, is Dick Ebersol an expert on comedy or high ratings?

Ebersol’s comments did serve to take some of the heat off NBC CEO and President Jeff Zucker. The same Zucker who went to Harvard at the same time as O’Brien, and was the butt of numerous O’Brien-led Harvard Lampoon pranks. The same Zucker who has the final word at NBC.

Zucker, Ebersol and the rest of NBC’s executives appear to be consciously choosing to ignore the growing pains that come with any new show. It takes time to cultivate an audience, particularly when it’s going head-to-head with a seasoned competitor such as David Letterman (and especially so when that competitor is in the midst of a sex scandal that will draw eyes to his program). Let’s not forget that Letterman also trounced Leno in the ratings until Leno was able to capitalize on Hugh Grant’s 1995 adventure in previously unexplored Ugly Hookerland to pull ahead.

NBC had a problem where it had two shows with ratings that were less than it desired. Its solution has resulted in the departure of Conan O’Brien, reams of bad press for the network, and the vilification of Jay Leno. Accurate or not, Leno is now seen as a greedy attention whore who could not allow someone else to take the spotlight. This does not bode well for his ratings when he returns.

(As an aside, it’s interesting to note that NBC almost O’Brien-ed Leno back in 1992. There was a time after it had made its decision to go with Leno over Letterman that the network considered changing its mind and bringing back Letterman. So if nothing else, NBC has been consistent. Repugnantly so, but consistent.)

From pepperoni to piledrivers: the terrible tale of Jim Herd


The thing is, executives are all too often given too much power over subjects on which they may have only the most tenuous grasp. That’s what happened in the terrifying tale of Jim Herd. Yes, this example is from wrestling, but it’s a good one.

Herd was the manager of a St. Louis television station that aired National Wrestling Alliance shows. He then went on to serve in an executive capacity for Pizza Hut, which led to him getting a job with Turner Broadcasting. Since he had once managed a TV station that aired wrestling shows, it was decided that Jim Herd was the ideal person to run Turner’s World Championship Wrestling (WCW). If you think about it, that’s like Conrad Black becoming commissioner of the NBA because his newspapers covered basketball games.

It was a complete debacle. Herd had no understanding of the wrestling business, and made decisions that led to a series of high-profile catastrophes. Most notably, he drove out the company’s best-known performer (Ric Flair), which led to WCW events plagued with chants of “We want Flair!” from the audience. Wrestling legend Dusty Rhodes would (allegedly) go on to describe Herd as, “the most untalented motherfucker in the entire world.” Rhodes had, apparently, never met Dick Ebersol.

“The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There’s also a negative side.” – Hunter S. Thompson

cigar

Unfortunately, Jim Herd is far from the only executive to have been given authority over things beyond his grasp. The Pink Floyd song, Have a Cigar, decries this, recounting the typical, two-faced bull that spews out of record company executives. Being asked “Which one’s Pink?” by executives who thought that Pink Floyd was the name of the band’s front man, showed that those who had so much power over the band’s future really didn’t know anything about them.

Currently, the music industry is in flux. Giant music companies still wield considerable power and are able to properly position, package and promote artists for success. However, the advent of the Internet has changed things. While some artists and labels are attempting to develop ways of doing business using the Internet (Radiohead, for example), most companies have simply dug in their heels and are attempting to shut down file-sharing websites. As with any industry, those in charge (that would be the executives) are used to a certain way of doing things, and the idea of venturing into the unknown is terrifying.

Follow the leader: why tread your own path when you could just follow the ass of another lemming?

dark-knight-movie-01

One of the biggest problems in every industry, but particularly in entertainment, is executive-follow-the-leader. It’s not hard to see the patterns.

In 1991, Nirvana shot to the top of the music charts, surprising record industry executives everywhere. In response, executives offered contracts to nearly every band that could play three chords and wear plaid flannel, regardless of talent, in an effort to find the next Nirvana (reports that several lumberjacks were mistaken for grunge rockers and offered contracts are unsubstantiated — but probably true).

Around that same time, television’s Seinfeld became a surprise hit, and would eventually go down as one of the most popular shows of all time. However, as a result of that popularity, television became plagued with programs about clever people who sat around and said clever things. As network executives searched for the next Seinfeld, original programming became increasingly rare.

This trend continues today. The massive success of The Dark Knight has apparently inspired Warner Brothers executives in all the wrong ways:

“[Warner Bros. Pictures Group President Jeff] Robinov wants his next pack of superhero movies to be bathed in the same brooding tone as The Dark Knight. Creatively, he sees exploring the evil side to characters as the key to unlocking some of Warner Bros.’ DC properties. ‘We’re going to try to go dark to the extent that the characters allow it,’ he says. ‘That goes for the company’s Superman franchise as well.’”

It’s a very narrow mind that sees the darkness of The Dark Knight as the reason it succeeded. Batman and the characters in his world are inherently dark; that tone suited them perfectly. Superman is not a dark character. Nor is Captain Marvel, who was set for an action-comedy treatment before this new dark (in both senses) initiative.

Making a dark Captain Marvel film is completely unnecessary, and a betrayal of the character. It would be comparable to making a James Bond movie into a road-trip comedy, or making Saw VI a love story with Sandra Bullock. It’s an affront to everything the characters stand for. Warner Brothers would have a better chance of replicating The Dark Knight’s success by murdering their supporting actors to try and recreate a Heath Ledger situation than by forcing characters to be “dark.”

Of course, Warner Brothers executives haven’t necessarily always been in touch with their DC Comics properties, as Kevin Smith will tell you.

Fox Television: Where promising shows go to never really live in the first place

futurama

The most obvious victims of Fox have been the animated shows, Futurama and Family Guy. Obviously, we can only assume that the goal of Fox Broadcasting, as a television company, is to profit from its programs. As a result, it becomes difficult to understand the reasoning behind the way that both shows were treated, particularly in light of The Simpsons’ status as Fox’s certified merchandising cash cow.

Both Futurama and Family Guy were unveiled to much fanfare, but quickly found themselves without a regular timeslot and little advertising to promote those new slots as they came up. As a result, ratings suffered and both shows were cancelled. Clearly, these decisions did not reflect what the audience wanted, as both shows managed to resurrect themselves due to popular demand, DVD sales and high ratings for syndication.

Fox had two properties that have proven themselves to be so popular that they have escaped the grave, which is all but unheard of in television. It’s hard to understand why the shows were never given the support they deserved, particularly given the popularity of the lucrative Simpsons franchise, which proved the power of an animated property. Of course, Fox’s problems aren’t limited to animated programs.

Television has shown that while there are runaway smash hits, sometimes a show needs time to grow (Seinfeld, for example floundered for three seasons before becoming a monster). Fox has seen both of these phenomena first hand. While both The Simpsons and That 70’s Show were popular from the start, another long-running Fox hit, The X-Files, started as a poorly rated cult favourite before rising in the ratings and becoming a mainstream success.

The X-Files may be the only exception to a depressing and disheartening trend: Fox simply does not allow new shows time to increase their audience . Fox has cancelled a plethora of shows with great potential before they had a chance to become successful.

Another property that Fox has been accused of mismanaging is Arrested Development. Critically acclaimed, the show never gained a huge following, and was canceled after three seasons. However, producer Mitch Hurwitz has since said that, “I had taken it as far as I felt I could as a series. I told the story I wanted to tell, and we were getting to a point where I think a lot of the actors were ready to move on.”

Hurwitz’s comments raise an interesting point. It’s easy to point a finger at executives for bungling their management of a creative property. Sometimes, though, there simply isn’t a big enough audience to justify further investment. Arrested Development may be too smart for a mass audience, and the rabid fans who did love the show can rewatch them on DVDs and wait anxiously for the anticipated film version.

The office would like a word with you.…

General Electric CEO Jack Welch once said, “An overburdened, overstretched executive is the best executive, because he or she doesn’t have the time to meddle, to deal in trivia, to bother people.” And he may be right. He may be very right. Oh, hell, he is right!

But the fact is, we are a consumer society focused heavily on our entertainment. We tend to be very passionate about it, whether it is a band, show, film series, or anything else. Because of this, the interference of executives in the creative process is something at which we lash out. “How dare those brainless executives mess with the creative vision of (insert creative type here)?”

Certainly, there have been some (a few. Maybe.) good executive decisions made over the years, but there have been many more bad ones made by executives with an extremely limited knowledge of the projects for which they were responsible. They are never held accountable for the loss of culture and creativity, so we get less of both with each decision they make. They are held accountable only for the loss of revenue, which means that when they take no risks, they lose no revenue. Balls the size of peas seldom motivate anyone to take a chance on quality.

In 1209, Simon IV de Montfort, captain-general of the French forces in the Albigensian Crusade, was active at the siege of Beziers, where the entire population of 20,000 Cathars (heretics) and Catholics (the faithful) were slaughtered. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of those unfortunates sought refuge in two cathedrals. Those in one cathedral were burned alive when it was set on fire. When Montfort’s Crusaders wondered how to tell the difference between the heretics and the faithful in the other cathedral, the Cistercian abbot, Arnald-Amalric, responded, “Kill them all. God will recognize his own.” Those in the second cathedral were subsequently butchered, man, woman, child, and presumably pet, just in case. In the Vietnam War, Arnald-Amalric’s words were paraphrased by some anonymous soldier as, “Kill ‘em all. Let God sort ‘em out.”

“Kill them all. God will recognize his own.” Or, “Kill ‘em all. Let God sort ‘em out.” Whether your tastes run to the 13th-century philosophy or the less elegant 20th-century variety, it seems eminently reasonable to adopt one or the other where entertainment industry executives are concerned (sorry, Mitch Hurwitz). Their few creative successes are so thoroughly outweighed by their multitude of dreck and cannibalistic re-offerings that a thorough housecleaning could have nothing but benefits. And we’d have more risks like Arrested Development and fewer safe, bottom-liners like Everybody Loves Raymond.

And that could be bad, how, exactly?

(Special thanks to Augustine Funnell)

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Essays, Op-Ed

read more
03
Feb
2010

Cancel the Olympics

10 Comments

jody!

by Jody Coughlin

How backwards can the human race be? Seriously? I was watching the Weather Network last night (riveting, I know) and there was a little news blurb on it about the Olympics and yes, the Winter Olympics coming to Vancouver is a glorious thing. There is much to celebrate. Spring rain falls on the hopeful hearts of the beloved sportsmen. Canada unites in triumphant athletic leadership… Yeah. Awesome.

But do you know what I think of when I see this stuff on television? First of all, the new design of the torch perplexes me. It looks (to me anyway) like a missing part from an airplane. I don’t know where the design came from and yes, I am too lazy to research it (so don’t even go there with me all you Olympic aficionados).

2010-olympic-torch

Secondly, I think to myself that these Winter games and the subsequent millions of dollars investors and advertisers throw at them remind me of a playground. On this playground in my mind I see all the rich kids, all the jocks and all the cheerleaders (not to stereotype-but come on) huddled around what could only be called a buffet table. There is lots to eat and lots to drink and plenty of mutual admiration all around. It’s so perfect it could make you puke.

Then, in my mind’s pretty blue eye, on the other side of the playground, I see the kids who came to school with no lunch money. I see the kids that had the shit kicked out of them and then had their lunch money stolen and I also see the kids who brought along a baggie of peanut butter and crackers and a sad, shriveled up apple. I see oblivion on the behalf of the kids at the buffet table. I see utter, basic human needs going unmet on behalf of the poor kids with nothing.

In my mind it is the Olympics versus the earthquake tragedy in Haiti. It is the babies being born in sweltering heat under the tent roofs of a makeshift neonatal unit. I see the look in the eyes of the mothers as they wilt in what must surely be exhaustion and absolute fear and despair next to their babies makeshift cribs. In my heart I weigh these images that have been broadcast on almost all major news channels by now against the warm and fuzzy heralding of the sportsmen’s wet dream otherwise known as the Olympics. I see these things and I am utterly appalled.

I know that the world (and all the fun therein) doesn’t stop because there is a need in some foreign country somewhere. I realize this particular bit of writing is the most depressing thing anyone has probably read in a few days. So what? I don’t care. I am depressed. I am depressed that I live in a world where frivolities flourish amid tragedy. I am depressed that the Olympics take precedence over the rebuilding of a hospital in a disaster ridden nation. It brings me way low down when a stadium is built (and maybe even rebuilt) to suit the aesthetic appeal of ceremonial bullshit instead of a school.

olympics-logo-bike

Maybe I am too harsh, but I fail to see where it matters that somebody can perform something faster or more deftly than anyone else in the world when there is an entire nation of orphans needing a home. I’m sorry Olympians. I know you’ve been training your asses off, but in terms of checks and balances it makes no sense to me. Cancel the Olympics. Rebuild Haiti.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
13
Jan
2010

Christmas 2009: A Narrative

No Comments

jody!

by Jody Coughlin

Christmas was never an easy time for me as a kid. I missed a Dad I never knew; I constantly fought against the devilish bile of jealousy and doubt as I compared the amount of gifts I received in comparison to my sisters; I dreaded going back to school after the holiday break. Worse still, my mother was always stressed to the absolute maximum at this time of year and every now and then she would do something quite whacky to make Christmas all the more horrifically memorable.

Case in point: one year she took an axe to the stump of our Christmas tree to make it fit in the tree stand, which would have been perfectly normal except that she hacked away at it in the middle of the living room. I distinctly remember vacuuming wood chips from the carpet. I remember watching mom slice away at that tree with utter abandon…

This event and others like it, which are a little too painful to publicly recall are the things that would eventually denote the exact opposite meaning of the most wonderful time of year for me. What is the exact opposite of wonderful you ask? Awful. It’s awful.

It has taken me a full decade of having my own home to get my head around what I want Christmas to mean for me and my family. My husband has always had a great holiday spirit and has, over the years, looked upon me with a vague sense of concern mingled with something probably close to annoyance at my eccentricities around the holidays. With good reason. I remember one December day, years ago, I was sweeping the fir needles from the kitchen floor and in the middle of the task I went into a blind rage over nothing at all other than the fact that it was just Christmas time and I was having a reaction to it. A very negative reaction to it.

These days, things are much saner and calmer and I find I even look forward to the holidays. This year I actually took the time to really think about what I sincerely wanted for a gift which, I realize, is not the true meaning of Christmas and all that stuff, but I wanted to partake of the tradition anyway. In other words, I just wanted present. I did. It’s true.

I decided, ultimately, on a sewing machine. I conjured visions of myself designing scarves (my personal favorite accessory) and making quilts and other such things during the longs days of winter. Such a romantic notion. Such a stupid, stupid, stupid romantic notion… I mean, as if?

Well, Christmas day came, I unwrapped (you guessed it) a sewing machine. I took it out of the box, perused the instruction manual and then I put it back in the box, taped it up and returned it a few days later. One look at that manual and all the details therein and it was all over for me. My grand illusion of becoming a seamstress extraordinaire was indeed an illusion. I instantly remembered why. The only class I ever failed in school was sewing class. I had forgotten that fact somewhere along the line. It all came crashing down around me when I saw the word bobbin in big bold letters.

Yuck. Ew. Gross.

So, what initially seemed like an enormous bout of amnesia on my behalf, actually turned into an opportunity to rethink my ideal gift. To really get it right this time. At this point I decided what would really suit me, what would totally rock my world was not a sewing machine but a bag of insulation. That’s right. A bag of insultion. It would be my one big purchase. My main gift. The jackpot. I, at the time, was in the middle of renovating my tool shed into a painting studio and therefore a bag of insulation seemed as valuable to me as diamond earrings might be to normal girls. Naturally.

Wait. Stop right there… Hold on ladies. Don’t get jealous. Don’t glare at your significant others and demand to know why you didn’t get a bag of insulation for Christmas. There is always next year. Christmas is over. Let it go.

Okay, back to the story. Onward, my husband went into the building supply store, he threw the money down on the counter (I assume) and ordered the insulation. Once it was bought and paid for we were directed outside to the warehouse only to find out that they were completely out. Flat broke about it. At this point, in essence, I went home with a thirty-two dollar piece of paper (receipt). Yee-haw. Deck the halls with utter annoyance.

About a week later, after much deliberation about the state of my studio which is perfectly functional in the summer, but not-so-much in the winter, I decided it was time to bring my easel inside. I realized the smart thing to do would be to shut the studio down for the winter and regroup next spring. Forget the insulation. Forget the renos. Forget it all until Spring. I set my easel up in the kitchen and again, returned my big purchase (essentially, my receipt) which I never actually got in the first place. No big deal, but still, I wanted something to call my own by way of a Christmas gift. Call me crazy. They often do.

So the hamster wheel in my brain started spinning. I dug deep. I thought long and hard about it and I concluded what I really wanted for Christmas, in the end, was a few new canvases to paint on. This was my absolute final decision on the matter.

I knew my mom (also a painter) had a surplus of canvases, of all shapes and sizes, kicking around her house. So I phoned her up, offered her some money to take of couple of them off her hands, et voila! In the end, it seems, regardless of what I thought I wanted for Christmas what I actually got was something to paint on. Weird. Very weird. Weird because I liked it.

It also seems, deep down, I must have wanted those canvases because, in the end, all I really wanted to do during the holidays was paint a portrait of Viggo Mortensen, alluding to his character as he (it?) appeared in Lord of the Rings (you know, a kind of freeze frame and snap a picture and print it and paint it kind of thing) because I had the big idea to do so a while ago as a form of commentary of popular culture and the intriguing artist types who seem as out-there as I feel most of the time and yet make me so…well, you know… So. Something. Or something like that.

If I had just thought about it a little harder, I would have come to these conclusions earlier. It’s all so vaguely obvious to me now.

There is a moral and it is this: In the end, I have discovered, it is much more pleasurable to give than to receive, especially for us indecisive types. Lesson learned.

Thusly concludes my personal saga of Christmas 2009. The end.

IMG_5341

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Art, Op-Ed

read more
21
Dec
2009

Dear Asshole: Assholes of the Decade

30 Comments

Dear Assholelogo

by John McIntyre

Dear Asshole: Assholes of the decade edition

Hello my friends. It’s been an interesting decade, and it’s been full of jerks. Here are my brief letters to a few of them.

Dear Stephen Harper,

I assumed that when mad scientists created evil, soulless automatons with visions of world domination, that they would have given them nicer hair and at least a passing ability to smile like a human being. I guess they were more concerned with teaching them how to sing Beatles’ tunes.

He's trapped a poor balloonfish under that tasteful texas neck-tie. But seriously, Harper wants to bring the three strike rule to Canada, ie. you get caught with a joint three times and you're thrown in jail for life. If this asshole ever gets a majority I'm moving to Holland.

He's trapped a poor balloonfish under that tasteful texas neck-tie. But seriously, Harper wants to bring the three strike rule to Canada, ie. you get caught with a joint three times and you're thrown in jail for life. If this asshole ever gets a majority I'm moving to Holland.

Dear Sarah Palin,

Thanks for supporting the Obama campaign! Palin-Beck 2012 baby!

Jesus do I want to slap that grin off her face. Who names a child with down syndrome "Trig?" And then uses him as leverage against free healthcare for poor people? She's the fucking anti-christ, and her family is like John and Kate plus rifles, retards and an uncomfortably close proximity to professional pornography.

Jesus do I want to slap that grin off her face. Who names a child with down syndrome "Trig?" And then uses him as leverage against free healthcare for poor people? She's the fucking anti-christ, and her family is like John and Kate plus rifles, retards and an uncomfortably close proximity to professional pornography.

Dear Catholic Church,

Electing Benedict as Pope was a short-sighted decision that’s issuing in a new, and very untimely, wave of conservatism. It’s leading to the repression of women (especially nuns, who are being investigated by the Vatican because some are refusing to wear robes and others are helping AIDS victims), the disaffection of priests and parishioners, and the alienation of the liberal majority that makes up the church. Rome is out of touch. You had the opportunity to elect the first ever black Pope, and he would have finally reversed your ridiculous stance on condoms and nearly instantly saved hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of lives. But nooo, “we’ve gotta stick with tradition and keep whitey in power like God, our grand dragon, wants.” Oh yeah, electing a Nazi is a much better idea. Light up the white smoke Bartholomew, the new Reich’s a-comin! Also, there’s the gays, women and abortion thing, but I don’t want to touch on anything controversial.

HAIL MARY FULL OF LIGHTNING MOTHA FUCKA! OOO-WAH-A-AH-AH!

HAIL MARY FULL OF LIGHTNING MOTHA FUCKA! OOO-WAH-A-AH-AH!

Dear Israel,

Anti-zionism does not equal anti-Semitism. Give Gaza and the West Bank back. Quit evicting Palestinians from Jerusalem. Stop settlement building, and bam, brown people of all different shades and nose sizes holding hands and singing “we are the world.” Most of the extremism and terrorism of the last ten years, and consequently the backlash against Muslims, is a direct reaction to your hard-line, and ironically racist, policies. Ever think that maybe the best way to fight the endless waves of suicide bombers and radicals might be to cut off the fuel that keeps their rhetoric burning? You were in the shit before, now you’re the occupiers fucking with the little guy. There’s no justification for terrorism, but there’s no justification for stealing Palestinian homes either. *Cough.* Umm, dick dick, boner. Boobs.

Terrorists will never use this as fodder to recruit poor, easily influenced, barely educated teenagers looking for someone to blame for their shit life situations. Pointing guns at children is a wonderful way to stop terrorism.

Terrorists will never use this as fodder to recruit poor, easily influenced, barely educated teenagers looking for someone to blame for their shit life situations. Pointing guns at children is a wonderful way to stop terrorism.

Dear Strom Thurmond,

How’s hell? Are the queers keeping you entertained with their non-stop sodomy? Thank God you finally died, you segregationist prick. How screwed up is the U.S. that you were a senator until 2003 and never renounced your pro segregationist stance against the “nigra” race? Even after you had a little illegitimate “nigra” daughter of your own? And Trent Lott, another d-bag senator who spoke about supporting your 1948 presidential run (on the keep blackie down before the reefer-mad jazz musicians impregnate all our daughters ticket) was never voted out and didn’t resign until 2007!

Little missy Thurmand. That's some good-ole Kentucky-fried irony right there.

Little missy Thurmand. That's some good-ole Kentucky-fried irony right there.

Dear Michael Bay and Stephen Spielberg,

Steve, you’re often blamed for ruining film by inventing the blockbuster and gearing Hollywood toward illiterate 14 year-olds with a penchant for dick jokes. Kind of true. I can’t really fault you for it, especially since I’m a 22-year old with a penchant for dick jokes. But you just couldn’t stop with Jaws. You and Lucas decided it’s better to whore yourselves out for a cash grab then to leave what would have been a great film legacy well enough alone. I mean Aliens? ALIENS?! It’s Indiana fucking Jones, not spaceman spiff you fuck. To use the cliche, Fonzi jumped the shark, Tom Cruise jumped the couch, and you sir, have nuked the fridge.

Mikey, you started out well. The Rock was awesome, and Bad Boys was at least watchable. But then you decided that “aww hell naw” and robot testicles were good substitutes for plot and character. Congratulations, you’re the patriarch of film making’s second generation of failure, and you helped create the climate that made Indiana Jones and the Geriatrics Who Need a Paycheque possible. You’re like a sick dog, eating shit to make yourself puke. And we, the ignorant masses, just keep returning to the trough to gobble down your regurgitated mess of defeat and Martin Lawrence.

Pictured – Puke Shit, with a side of Hitler mustache.

Pictured – Puke Shit, with a side of Hitler mustache.

Dear evil Disney empire,

Hilary Duff, Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers. I liked you better when you were corrupting children with overtly racist cartoons. Although I suppose the incredible whiteness of that auto tuned synth-pop crap is probably still racist somehow.

Geessum massa, them boysus pants sho' is paw-ful tight!

Geessum massa, them boysus pants sho' is paw-ful tight!

Dear Capitalism,

Adam Smith didn’t picture gigantic corporations when he was lobbying for the free hand of the market, he was talking about small, localized cottage industries, so all you fiscal conservative assholes can quit quoting him to justify lining your pockets. Capitalism only works on the small scale or when it’s heavily regulated, like it was in the U.S. from the 40s through to the start of the 80s. Then Reagan came along and started to deregulate it. Then Bush deregulated it further. Then Clinton teamed up with Arsenio Hall and used the market to create a secret platinum saxophone that dispenses blowjobs (or something like that, I was busy playing Duke Nukem in the 90s) and we all know what happened with W. The last twenty years has been a great era of short-sighted speculation, and we should have known that it would end where it did. The public watched a bubble burst and inflated it again, hoping that forcing more air in would prevent its explosion the second time around. The guys making money knew exactly what would happen. And it’ll happen again, because the market is still far less regulated then it has been at any time in the past. So bite on to the tail end of the recession everybody, I hope you like the taste of your own asshole. We’re all screwed until we wise up and stop putting shit on credit cards.

It's cyclical, get it?

It's cyclical, get it?

Dear American Evangelical Christians,

Capitalism can’t work alone, it needs a bunch of self righteous, ignorant assholes to help push it along. Even if I exclude your douchiness and the damage you do on the small scale by ruining your own children, your lobbying and voting choices alone are enough to have majorly screwed up not just North America, but the whole goddamn world. I don’t know how incredible dickery to the poor and moronic allegiance to rich assholes has become so ingrained in Christianity, but it is and we’re fucked because of it. You share a huge chunk of guilt for the wars, the recession, the extremism going on in Europe and the Middle East, and the racism that’s building across the world because of that extremism. The clash of civilizations is largely your fault, and you’re too Goddamn stupid to realize that you’ve been on the wrong side of history for the last century. Christianity used to be a counter culture and for a long time large chunks of it were dedicated to doing good. Then a couple of dicks started building mega-churches and slapped their ball-sweat onto paper, writing books like “A Purpose Driven Life.” Your religion is like Scientology and the Catholic Church before it is nothing more than a way for rich white men to profit off of people’s guilt and stupidity. Thanks a lot fuckwads. You’re what the Mayans warned us about.

Oh kids, always so rambunctious and full of hate.

Oh kids, always so rambunctious and full of hate.

Dear Fox News (and all right wing media outlets, including Canadian ones),

And you spurred them on. You’re kind of the culmination of everything wrong on this list. Your pandering “journalism” is entirely motivated by money. You feed your audience what it wants to hear, try to give it a good scare and do your best to impose that great American belief that any fact or logical argument, no matter how iron clad, can be disproven as long as someone yells loud enough. Climate-gate is a great example. Despite near unanimous agreement among all researchers across the entire scientific community, despite piles of hard data that shows a distinct warming trend and despite the fact that the last decade is the warmest in the earth’s entire history, you’ve managed to convince millions of people (and 40 per cent of Canadians according to one non-scientific pole) that climate change isn’t real. Why? Because someone found a few emails between researchers that talked about how stupid climate change deniers are. Then you went out and found every nut and unqualified hack you could to support your theory—and misquoted as many real scientists as possible—all the while disregarding the statements from NASA, the UN, countless NGOs and think tanks, and the Federal governments of Canada, the US, Britain and several other countries.

"Yeah, 'Global warming.' Why don't you tree-huggers all go smoke some marijuana cigarettes while you drink vegan-lattes with all your communist boyfriends back in France? Fuckin' hippies. Where's the remote, I need to watch a 200 pound man put his hands on a 500 pound man's choda." (Denying global warming, calling gays evil and supporting the ability of insurance companies to cancel coverage whenever they want nets Beck about $23 million a year)

"Yeah, 'Global warming.' Why don't you tree-huggers all go smoke some marijuana cigarettes while you drink vegan-lattes with all your communist boyfriends back in France? Fuckin' hippies. Where's the remote, I need to watch a 200 pound man put his hands on a 500 pound man's choda." (Denying global warming, calling gays evil and supporting the ability of insurance companies to cancel coverage whenever they want nets Beck about $23 million a year)

Dear Barry Bonds,

Don’t care if Michael Vick feeds teletubbies to dogs or TO is an all-round chipotle flavoured cock, you only earned your records because of steroids and you’ve helped make major league sports illegitimate. You’re like the Richard Nixon of pro athletes. Except worse—at least he was a great athlete bowler.

Paul Blart hates cheaters.

Paul Blart hates cheaters.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in 2000's: A Decade in Review, Op-Ed

read more
17
Dec
2009

Christmas vs. “Xmas”: The Ho-Ho-Holocaust

3 Comments

mattjones

Christmas vs. “Xmas”: The Ho-Ho-Holocaust
(or, since this is much ado about nothing, it could be the Ho-Ho-Hoo-raw!)
(or, How the loudest-portions-of-the-largest-minority think we should greet each other.) by Matt Jones

The debate over the proper holiday greeting has gone on for some time now. “Merry Christmas,” or “Happy Holidays?” Is one exclusionist? Is the other un-American (in the larger North American sense) in a largely Christian part of the world?

I’ve heard some rumblings about this: the odd article here, and an overheard conversation there. Of course, one of the most vocal and hilarious proponents is Stephen Colbert, who wishes PC death on anyone who says “Happy Holidays.” However, as with most things Colbert says, there’s a good chance that in his heart he means the complete opposite.

I got a good chuckle out of this recent installment of Shortpacked, a webcomic about people who work in a toy store. (click to enlarge)

20091207standforchristmas

My chuckles stopped when I thought: wait a minute, is that a real website? I typed in www.standforchristmas.com, and what do you know — it is real. If we secular atheists can deign to look at it, it’s a fascinating read.

For our purposes here, let’s look specifically at Wal-Mart. The first thing we can determine is that either Wal-Mart’s corporate rules and regulations are, at best, poorly enforced across their various locations, or these people are liars. After numerous entries complaining that Wal-Mart had no nativity scenes, no Christian-themed cards, and the clerks did not say, “Merry Christmas,” I came across this comment:

I saw nativity scenes available in the store in Edgewood, NM. Also, the Christmas cards they stocked are the most Christ-friendly I have ever seen. (”May your Christmas center around the fact that Jesus was born” said one) – also employees said Merry Christmas. They even had a little lighted Christmas Walmart-building with a salvation army bell ringer in the front of the building on sale for $12. Definitely Christmas friendly.

Compare that to the experience of this person, who seems to have discovered a few additional soap boxes under his or her feet:

I recently was shopping in the local Wal-Mart and noticed the absence of Christmas music while they eagerly sought out my shopping dollars. I was told by an associate that corporate would not allow it because it “offended” certain people. I can only assume it offended atheists and the ACLU who are the usual culprits in this debate.

Those evil ACLU bastards! How dare they! Nonetheless, it seems that there’s no consistency (or effectiveness) in how Wal-Mart applies its corporate decisions. Not every comment is as much a non-sequitur as that one, though. Some are downright, well, logical and Christian:

While the clerks were friendly, no one wished us a Merry Christmas and there are no Chistmas decorations or other indications of this holiday showing in No. Attlrboro, MA. We will continue to greet the staff at Wal-Mart with Merry Christmas and hope that the spirit of this holy holiday will come to Wal-mart.

I think this next one is being facetious, though:

[My] Wal-Mart had the nerve to have “Chanukah” stuff for sale and a sign that said “Happy Chanukah.” How Rude!!

Of course, others will use the forum to make non-related, but still valid points:

There is nothing Christmasy about smothering small businesses and contributing to domestic unemployment by encouraging overseas manufacturing.

I think that this is the most telling one of all:

It’s just business as usual for Wal-Mart. This giant retailer should set an example and show reverence and respect for this HOLY season as it is the core reason for their prosperity in this time.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Wal-Mart should celebrate Christianity during the holidays because of how much money it makes from it? Seems logical. Why has this logic not been applied to the fact that Christmas (the annual celebration of the birth of Christ) and, let’s call it Xmas (the annual tradition of buying yourself into debt and eating yourself into some cardiac excitement) have nothing to do with each other?

I don’t recall any Bible verses encouraging commercialism in celebration of the birth of Jesus. If anyone should be getting presents, it’s he. Trying to combine Christmas and Xmas might just lead to a mental disconnect in those kids you’re trying to raise “right.”

I know that for me, everything seemed to be geared toward presents; hearing about Jesus being born was just an irritation to deal with while at mass on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. I didn’t have anything against Jesus, but for a five-year-old kid, toys were (and are) far more interesting and important than uncomfortable church clothes and sitting quietly.

But that’s not even the real issue here. The real issue is the idea many people seem to have — that Christmas, as the seasonal holiday celebrated by the largest minority, should be monolithic. It is the idea that other religious celebrations around this time of year (among them Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, occasionally roaming celebrations such as Ramadan, and my personal favourites, Festivus and the Feast of Alvis) are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things because they aren’t celebrated by the largest group (or, more destructively, aren’t celebrated because what those people believe is wrong). In essence, it’s the idea that the inclusive “Happy Holidays” greeting is a slap in the face of baby Jesus.

The fact is (and I know that I’m getting into dangerous territory here), the dominance of Christianity (not necessarily the religion itself, but what people have used it for) is offensive to a lot of people. Christian values (the Ten Commandments, for example) are a fine system on which to base one’s life; I don’t believe that anyone has a problem with that. The trouble comes when the richest landowners in the entire world use their moral and political influence to discourage the use of condoms to prevent the spread of AIDS in Africa, or quietly relocate child molesters who’ve abused their position of moral authority. Or how about those, believers or not, who take advantage of the faithful in order to sell garbage such as this? Christianity, like anything else, has proven very destructive when in the wrong hands.

But I’m just one guy (who, admittedly, cared more as a child about He-Man than Jesus). What do you think? How should we greet one another this time of year? Should nativity scenes be displayed publicly? Can the other religions hash it out in hell for all eternity? You tell me.

Herry Christadays!

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Essays, Op-Ed

read more
09
Dec
2009

The Crosby-Ovechkin Debate

3 Comments

flanagan

a sports column by Matthew Flanagan

As a child I was basically in love with Mario Lemieux. I was a Penguins fan. I loved Jagr, Kevin Stevens, Ron Francis and even, yes, Ulf Samuelsson and Tom Barrasso. It was, admittedly, extremely hard to love Barrasso both because he wasn’t altogether that good of a goaltender and he wore those God forsaken pads. When Mario retired (the first time) I cried. When Mario unretired (the first time) I cried.

I eventually moved away from cheering for the Penguins. They became a joke and without Mario around. Jagr became more and more unlikeable until his eventual departure. I was extremely excited when the Penguins were able to draft Crosby because I knew it meant their franchise had become relevant again. I was, once more, a Penguins fan reborn. Call me a fair-weather fan all you want, I don’t care. My love of a team is inextricably linked to the likeable players on said team. As much as I admired the Straka-led Penguins there wasn’t anything to cheer for and since I can’t immediately find Pittsburgh on a map I certainly can’t claim any geographical ties. So I moved on but came back. Crosby, tied with Luongo, is my favourite player.

crosby

Combined with that initial disclaimer I should also add that I am not a nationalist hockey fan. I don’t pick and choose based on where a player comes from. While I am thankful for the freedoms and opportunities Canada provides for me I still despise the Canadian state. I find it a bit foolish to cheer for a player or boo them because of an accident of birth. As much as I might hate to live in Russia (a hellhole) that doesn’t change how I felt about Pavel Bure. So, my love of Crosby and my dislike of Ovechkin is not fuelled by any nationalist sentiments at all.

The NHL, like it’s much much MUCH more successful NFL counterpart, has attempted to define itself in recent years through the lens of the Crosby-Ovechkin debate. Like the Brady-Manning debate in the NFL the NHL tries to force people’s eyes on hockey through a constant babble of “who’s the best”. The media, well the media I am able to watch, has taken it upon themselves to jump on top of Ovechkin’s shoulders. I have to hear statements from people like Mike Milbury celebrating Ovechking as “by far the best player in the league” and “the most exciting player in hockey.” This irritates me for a number of reasons. First, nobody gets to tell me who the most exciting player in a sport is. That’s my decision and if I think it’s Crosby, Phaneuf or Anze Kopitar that’s my choice. Second, Milbury, perhaps the worst hockey mind of all-time, doesn’t get to have an opinion about hockey. This guy could have had a team featuring Spezza, Heatley, Chara and Luongo (among many many others) but instead left the hockey world with a colossal mess. Third, and most importantly to call Ovechkin “by far the greatest player” requires an act of wilful ignorance I can’t even begin to describe. If someone thinks Ovie is the best there is that’s fine but to try and put him on another level is just moronic. There are a plethora of other players in the NHL who can either come close or can pass Ovie’s talents. For my money I would take Crosby over Ovechkin and now, finally, I will say why.

First things first. Yes, Ovechkin has more points than Crosby. He has more points than him for one simple reason; he has played more games than Crosby. A very modest investigation into the facts actually reveals that, if Crosby had played as many games as Ovie, Sid would likely have more points (this is based on the fact that Crosby has a higher points per game average). If Crosby hadn’t suffered a major ankle injury a few years ago he might easily have more points (more Harts too?) than Ovie. However, the number of points doesn’t really seem to be all that important when we consider that Malkin out produced Ovie just last year and still lost out on the Hart. Why? As far as I can tell its one word: Goals. Ovechkin is undeniably the best pure goalscorer in the league. He has it all and he is a legit threat to score every time he even sees a block of ice.

He does have his faults though. I don’t think Ovie could find the defensive zone with both hands and a flashlight. I also don’t think he is filled with any kind of profound respect for the safety of his opponents (recent developments have confirmed this). That being said, yes, Ovechkin is one of the best and if you like THE best (you decide). What angers me about this is that goals have become overblown while at the same time assists and playmaking in general has been trivialized. The goal in hockey has now taken the same place as the dunk in basketball or the home run in baseball. The NHL and its media lapdog have now done everything it can to dumb down the game of hockey to simple goal scoring so even the biggest numbskull can follow along without understanding any of the game’s nuances. That’s fine, it’s the NHL’s job to sell their game but that doesn’t mean I have to buy it. And I won’t.

ovie

Playmaking is JUST AS important as “finishing”. The ability to set up a goal is a necessary hockey skill and some players have more talent passing the puck than hitting that home run. I constantly hear how “some assists” are bogus and that argument has some merit. Yes, some are. However, are all goals pure and wonderful? What about garbage goals, goalie errors or those goals that simply would have never happened if the playmaker didn’t feather that pretty pass over? How many times has Crosby put the puck exactly where it needs to be? There are many times Crosby passes instead of shooting (and scoring) but just as many times those passes create scoring chances that never would have happened without him. Which player is more valuable to their team? It’s really difficult to tell. If I had to break the tie I would include Crosby’s recent faceoff winning percentage, it might not be as pretty as Ovechkin’s goals (but surely better looking than his dreadful shooting percentage) but winning a faceoff is a pretty important hockey skill.

Although I am confident in my stance that Crosby is a better hockey player than Ovechkin it isn’t my intention to convince anyone that Ovechkin is a bum. My aim was to narrow the divide between the two. Simply because one player gets assists and the other gets goals doesn’t indicate one player’s superiority over another. As long as a player is producing for their team what those points look like is meaningless. Also, there is a certain objective level of play that includes more than just Crosby and Ovechkin in the “who’s the best” debate. There are other players out there that someone might feel to be superior to Crosby and Ovechkin and that’s fine, I guess what’s really important is not letting Mike Milbury tell you anything about hockey.

Tags: , , , , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed, Sports

read more
08
Dec
2009

Understanding a Creative Economy

No Comments

just cheryl

a column by Cheryl Ripley

If you haven’t heard of the creative economy you don’t have to feel as though you are living in a cave. This economic concept was introduced following discussions around economic development as dependent on knowledge. Evolving from the knowledge based approach the creative economy appears more inclusive, based in collaboration, economic diversification, a celebration of culture and support for research and innovation. It is a concept to be applied in communities, with business and for personal professional development.

Wait a minute! What is the creative economy?

At the moment there does not exist one perfect definition for the creative economy, jobs or industry. Working out the language and narrowing down the specifics of this holistic concept is tough, as it includes many different working parts. From what I gather, the creative economy is defined by improved quality of life through innovative activity, so that the creation of new products, services, intellectual property or simply renewing those already in existence has the potential to generate wealth and jobs.

Okay, improved quality of life and the use of creativity and innovation to generate wealth sounds great! But what is a creative job or a creative industry?

Advertising, architecture, artists, business consulting, design, education, engineering, film, games, heritage, marketing, museums, music, performing arts, photographic services, public relations, publishing, radio and television, web and software are examples of Creative Industries as defined by the North American Industry Classification System.

Creative jobs however, are not limited to positions within the industries listed above. Sustainable forestry and community supported agriculture are both examples of genres that could host creative jobs. A creative job could also include writers, visual and performing artists, media representatives, software publishers, programmers and environmental or heritage services.

The concept of a creative economy identifies that those in the creative field make more money than those in the service, working or agricultural fields by 20-30 thousands of dollars. It also recognizes the already existent advantages in urban locales where there are more creative jobs and industry. But, yes, the benefits of the creative economy are accessible to rural locations, on the assumption of good physical connections to urban mega regions and internet connectivity. In the Eastern corridor of Ontario, for example, connecting the mega regions of Toronto, Montreal and Ottawa to the surrounding rural areas would facilitate economic growth. The idea is to support this economic growth through innovation and creative jobs.

The key to the creative economy opens the doors for connections, networks, communication and collaboration. If businesses small or large, can take advantage of technology, embrace the benefits of sharing information and take the time to collaborate and communicate ideas, then perhaps the metaphorical doors within those economic corridors, linking urban and rural, will open to present new opportunities. By moving forward with internet technologies these doors have the potential to present opportunities that surpass the highways and railways between these spaces and places.

Seemingly dependent upon the accessibility for rural communities to high-speed internet connectivity, the creative economy has the potential to break stereotypical boundaries between urban and rural life. So what does the creative economy mean for the future of MY rural livelihood?? It means that in order for the rural creative economy to flourish there will need to be faster internet connection and better cell phone reception. On a positive note many provinces across Canada have entered into a phase of internet introduction so that in areas where using the internet was painfully slow or previously unheard of, more Canadians are connecting to each other and the world over the cyber waves.

Still, the question remains. Do you have to be an internet junkie, a twit or a crackberry fanatic to join in? No. I don’t think so. BUT, capitalizing on these technologies in advertising and marketing your business, job, ideas, events, art, etc. will spread the word about whatever you are working on and has the potential to do so quickly.

Tags: , , , , , , ,
Posted in Essays, Op-Ed

read more
16
Nov
2009

Shut Yourself Up

No Comments

jody!

by Jody Coughlin

The sparrow of humility in the hand of a painter is worth more than any flock of honking geese flying over head.

The sparrow of humility in the hand of a painter is worth more than any flock of honking geese flying over head.

I’ve been racking my brain, attempting to forage for some kind of dating advice for you all you gents out there. I-as they say-got nothin’. My tastes border on the absurd and unconventional at the best of times. I think Ted Danson in the most magnificent new HBO series Bored to Death is hot as hell. In his own way, of course. Then again, the cute little writer guy on the same show certainly holds his own in the hot department…and now that you mention it-the illustrator has a certain je ne sais quoi…

Ok. Wait. I have a crush on most guys. I am a true lover of men, not in terms of promiscuity, rather in terms of admiration. So, gentleman, just keep doing what you are doing and I will quietly (or not) observe from some distant corner somewhere. I can’t help myself, let alone all your lady friends out there. Enough said.

In other news…

It is time to get back to the world of all that is artistic (much to the relief of the editors of this site, I am sure). I am more or less a stay-at-home mom these days and have been for most of the time that I have been a parent, minus a stint here or there. I, at the moment, am not earning a steady paycheck. What I do is rely on the sales of my artwork and my writing and that wonderful little element in my life called husband. Without him, I would be the very definition of a starving artist. With him? I have lots to eat. Thankfully.

I, however, am the type of gal who gets a real kick out of earning my own quid so eventually, I will go back to work full time, when my daughter is a little older. Or, maybe, just maybe, within a few years I will be able to make a full time living selling my art and my writing on a regular basis (oh, to sleep perchance to dream). Actually, this is my dream, my goal. If it all falls through, and it may, I’ll probably end up at a call centre somewhere.

One thing I have been focusing on lately, is marketing. I have heard it said that a good artist should not necessarily study art, rather a good dose of business education is more important because, after all, selling what you make is a form of entrepreneurship. Artists must know how to market themselves. It is within this category in the life of an artist that I fall flat. Marketing myself makes me nauseous. I try it, but I never feel like I am much good at it.

In these modern times, we are rather lucky. Gone are the days where we have to sit in front of a television while commercial after commercial after commercial blasts its filthy face into our existence. Talk about offensive? The stuff written in Dear Asshole is risqué, for sure-but nobody is forcing anybody to read it. I remember when I was a kid though, fully immersed in an episode of Voltron and then some stupid commercial about some stupendous laundry detergent ripped me out of my animated reverie (I had a huge crush on the guy with the white hair in that show… What?!). Now that, my friends, is offensive. The commercial, not the crush. So, lest I come across as my own pathetic attempt at commercialism, I abhor the art of the self-promotion.

And then there are the types…Oh, we all know them. Probably by name if we are honest. You know what I am talking about, here. The type of people that incessantly talk about themselves and how spectacular what they are making/doing is compared to the rest of the blasé masses. There are artists out there that are so in your face about how special they are that it makes me (at least) want to literally vomit in the worst possible way. Am I like that? I sincerely hope not (if you see me getting mighty, if you see me getting high, knock me down. I’m not bigger than life).

These in your face types remind me of a guy I dated briefly in high school. Well, I was in high school, he (ahem) was not. When I first met this guy he did nothing but talk, talk, talk about his prowess with the ladies. I, being recently jilted by my boyfriend at the time, decided this guy might have something I needed. Well, as it turned out, all that talking covered up a few facts. For one, the guy lied like an oriental rug on an overdose of valium and two, his prowess was about as enigmatic as a box of kleenex. I was naive at the time, but I did learn this: those that talk the most about who and what they are, usually, aren’t much at all in the end and this guy was an idiot.

What self-admiration and swagger does is alienate people. At first, out of sincere curiosity, folks might be won over by this particular brand of charm, sure. In the end, when artists constantly talk about their process and what it all means to present day society and yada yada, I think it ends up alienating people. If the art cannot speak for itself, then it’s time to head back to the drawing board. A simple artist’s statement is all anyone ever really wants or needs in the end.

I worry the most about the fledgling artist/writer/musician who maybe just attempted their first serious piece. In the face of so much bluster, their courage may fall dead in its tracks. Nothing is as daunting as trying to make your mark as an artist in the shadow of some other artist who is determined to stay in the limelight come hell or high water. It should not be this way. Ultimately, this kind of behavior ends up killing more art than it generates and if that is the case then we all lose in the end.

On the flip side of this, I’ve met artists who have so much talent that it makes me want to cry in the best possible way, but when the gallery doors are closed or the stage lights are off, you would never know it. Some of the most humble people in the world would knock your socks off in the ability department. I am not too sure where I fit in in all of this, somewhere comfortably close to the humble side of things, I hope. Art should not be an elitist side-show. It should be completely accessible. Come one, come all.

As for marketing. Is it a necessary evil? Unfortunately, yes. It is. Everybody and their dog seems to being doing it these days simply because we can. A Facebook account is free, a blog is free, selling your work on various commerce sites like Etsy (for example) costs next to nothing. So, why not market yourself? There is a way to do it and then there is a way to do it, though. I say go ahead, give it your best shot. We are all very small fish swimming in a vast ocean. Why should the advertising giants have all the fun? All I am saying is, be careful. There are a lot of seedling, baby artists out there with just as much talent as you (and me). Talk about your art, sure. But gently and with a dose of humility and kindness. Any truly successful artist has worked extremely hard to get where they are today and those are the ones that nary utter a sound. As for the bragger types? Move out of the limelight you self-inflating arses. Let the rest of the world catch a ray or two for a change. Wait a minute… That was mean wasn’t it? Yup. Truth hurts. I can’t help it. That is how I feel.

Tags: , , , , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
13
Nov
2009

Rural Living Rant

No Comments

just cheryl

by Cheryl Ripley

Who needs a high speed WI-FI internet connection anyways? I fear, my friends, if there is one thing that draws me away from the comforts of country living it is the inaccessibility of the high speed, get it and watch it now, instant messaging capabilities of urban internet connections. In spite of this minor set back, I will continue writing this piece upon my trusty ‘take anywhere’ lap top, that at the moment “cannot connect to wireless internet” here at home in Minden, Ontario. It is now that I would like to discuss the beauty in rural living and celebrate the idea that rural livelihoods exist out of the country-bumpkin stereotype.

It is a funny thing living in rural areas. Urban zones seem to have a death grip on knowledge and technological resources which perpetuate the stereotypes of rural dwellers being behind the times, unfashionable or even dumb. Movie premieres, book launches, panel discussions, conferences, high-speed internet and even cell phone reception are all things used by the general population, yet are reserved for urban dwellers simply because their numbers are higher and concentrated to a central location. What über famous pop-star do we know that would risk a low turn out, less lucrative show to spend more money traveling to their fans in the country? I can’t name one.

Living in a beautiful, lush, natural environment can be done without giving up modernity and all of the conveniences we’ve become used to living within urban environments, can’t it? Shouldn’t we be able to appreciate both lifestyles and understand the importance of a balanced, sustainable demographic living in rural landscapes year-round?

Here’s a little background on Minden. This small community is made up of about 1500 people, about the size of Florenceville, NB, home of the first McCain factory. A Canadian census from 2006 counted the population of Minden Hills, which includes many of the communities surrounding Minden, at about 5500 people. The high school for the area hosts a grand total of 700 students. Some students traveling in from the ‘sticks’ may ride the bus for up to one hour and a half. There is a flourishing artist community coming into Minden, potters, painters and photographers can’t deny the beauty of the turning leaves in the fall. Sir Sanford Fleming College brings in students in sustainable building and ecotourism. Still, the demographic of Minden Hills area is made up of mostly retirees with a summertime influx of cottagers from southern Ontario.

“You know what gets me…? The folks who move up here, but still insist on spending all of their money in the city – ‘Oh, I have to get my haircut, to the city. Oh, I have a doctor’s appointment, to the city. Oh, I need a dentist, to the city. Oh, must go shopping, to the city…’” – Anonymous local over morning coffee at Tim Horton’s.

Ever heard the expression, Be Global, Act Local? There are many reasons it exists, but I can think of no better expression that would support a growing local, rural economy. Money spent in the community, stays in the community, in theory. Still when compared to prices in the city, buying products locally is more expensive and there is often less selection. People seem more inclined to hop in their vehicles and burn gas to the city, at least an hour and a half away to spend less while browsing a diverse product selection.

Maintaining a reliable, year round clientele and keeping a business running throughout all four seasons in cottage-country proves to be challenging. Seasonal fluctuations in the amount of people visiting popular summer destinations create an economic black hole for rural business. While the main industry in Minden, for instance, was once Timber, the town is now whole-heartedly dependent upon tourism. This is a common fate for many communities across Canada. The more time I spend in rural areas, it is becoming clearer that where summer employment and entrepreneurship are high, unemployment insurance and poverty are also high. So what does that mean?

I argue the dichotomy between rural and urban living/lifestyles is a stable, year-round employment. What creates the allure of moving to a great metropolis? For some it is the bright lights, entertainment, fashion, hustle and bustle. For others it is merely the prospect of work. I believe it is a constant, diverse clientele that drives a stable work environment in the city.

Living year round in rural areas is as much about entrepreneurial spirit as it is serving the influx of tourists, while remaining loyal to the local community. For some working year round means performing a job they were professionally trained for during peak season and then taking retail or serving positions in the off-season. For others, surviving the rural reality means working non-stop during the busy times and cashing in employment insurance when demand is low or the weather is uncooperative. And still there are some professions that carry round all year, for example, doctors, dentists, veterinarians, etc.

So I have come to the conclusion that people who live in the country do so consciously for its quiet beauty and slow pace. Are they rednecks for enjoying this lifestyle? Maybe, but that doesn’t mean they are all banjo pickin, politically incorrect, hillbillies. It is time to break that stereotype and appreciate those who choose to endure the cottage country lifestyle year round, as well as appreciating those ‘citidiots’, who visit, spending their hard earned dollars outside of their locality. It isn’t that one space is better than the other, but that rural and urban settings provide a variety of different and pleasing opportunities. How these opportunities, the distribution of population and the distribution of wealth and production between rural and urban zones play out on an international scale… well that is a discussion for another day.

*A rural youth of Ontario, Cheryl graduated from University having studied International Studies and Modern Languages and so functions in Spanish, French and English. She is interested in the process of sustainability and how it can be translated into the lives of everyone, everywhere. Also, she is concerned with Canada’s lax approach to C02 emissions and what that means for people around the world facing the devastating effects of climate change. For fun Cheryl enjoys making music, snowboarding and playing in the outdoors. *

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
11
Nov
2009

Equity versus Equality

No Comments

mary

by Mary Andow

Much to the chagrin of my bank account, I have recently returned to school to pursue a degree in Education. I spent from late August to the end of October at Saint Thomas University in Fredericton, New Brunswick where I was bombarded with new ideas surrounding student learning. One particular idea was hammered into my brain as it relates to students: “fair is not being treated the same as everyone else – fair is getting what you need.” Essentially, students will arrive with varying levels of intellect, potential, and experience. To treat them exactly the same would be foolish. Wait … but … do you mean … I shouldn’t treat kids equally?!?!? So novel a concept my mind cannot conceive.

This brings obvious rise to the equality versus equity debate. I taught a grade eleven History course this week wherein I introduced students to this concept. Adolescents and children often possess a heightened sense of justice; that is, they want all things to be equal. If one person gets detention for talking so too should the next. If Sally gets help with a test, so should Annie. If she can pass in an assignment late, why can’t I?

Confusion surrounding differences between equality and equity are not without cause. In the same History class, the text book discusses the women’s movement and their fight for equal rights. The key to understanding the difference is to recognize that the fight for “equality” is constantly in-flux. In the 19th and into the 20th century, women fought for equality – men could vote so why couldn’t they? Men could hold political seats and women wanted the same. Progress occurs but a step at a time. Canadian women of the early 20th century (such as Nellie McClung) were trailblazers. The thought of equitable treatment would not have entered their conscience – coming from nothing they were striving for something. As time has passed I would like to believe that we have grown and improved as a society. As such, women should now demand equity, not simply equality.

Women asking for gender equality means asking for the exact same things men have. The problem, of course, is that women are not the same as men. Shockingly, men cannot give birth, only women. That makes us different, with contradistinctive sets of needs. I explained it this way to my students: a man and a woman begin working in the same job at the same wage in the same company. Both do an equal level of work for five years. At this point, the woman gives birth to a child and takes six months away from her paying job. When she returns, the company places her at the same level as her male counterpart who has in the meantime been promoted. But wait a minute? She has worked six months less than the man – this treatment is unequal! Correct: it is far from equal but rather quite equitable. This hypothetical company recognized the social significance of caring for a child and understood that this cannot always be achieved in unison with a full time job*.

I have fixated on women, but the same holds true for other groups who have been historically marginalized. Equity is generally the end goal, not the simple act of equality. There is much chatter among some ranks about government treatment of Aboriginal persons. Some will handpick perks such as tax exceptions or tuition for post-secondary education and claim it is unreasonable. I would argue that equality, on its own, is not good enough for a civilized society. Canada has, in the past, stripped Aboriginals of their culture, destroyed families, and ruined lives. Stories of the treatment of Aboriginal children in residential schools are painstaking. For those who believe all things should be equal, consider this. Are we a society that destroys lives and then says “okay, we’ll stop doing that – now go live like everyone else”? I would like to think not. We want what is fair and just; that is, we want what is equitable.

I minored in Women’s Studies during my undergraduate degree wherein coursework focused largely on equal rights. I would argue that equal rights for minority or marginalized groups should be a continued discussion so long as equitable rights are the primary goal. It is one thing for students to believe everything should be equal (the same), but societies cannot function with such callow. All people deserve what is fair and just – and this will rarely be alike from one person to the next.

*I will avoid needless comments by saying that I of course advocate the same equitable treatment for a man who takes paternal leave from his job. Equitable treatment knows not the boundaries of sex, gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, etc.

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
04
Nov
2009

Dear Asshole #5

18 Comments

Dear Assholelogo

by John McIntyre

Hold on to ya’ butts, cause it’s Dear Asshole’s super special hipster edition. Please only laugh out of irony. You basterds.

Sam Jackson likes neither velociraptors nor people who stop listening to music once it becomes mainstream.

Sam Jackson likes neither velociraptors nor people who stop listening to music once it becomes mainstream.

Dear hipsters,

Take off those giant, stupid-ass, goddamn horn-rimmed glasses. You look fucking ridiculous. Stop wearing long poofy dresses over tights, and why do you always need a scarf? Put on a damn t-shirt when it’s hot out (and not one that’s a faded add for cigarettes or says “Joe” or some other horseshit “ironic” one you bought at Value Village). Wilmer Valderrama is Rowdy Roddy Piper compared to you guys and girls who look like hungover extras kicked off the set of a Wham music video.

U.S. Senator Barry Goldwater. He can wear horn-rimmed glasses.

U.S. Senator Barry Goldwater. He can wear horn-rimmed glasses.

Why do you belong to a group of people that dress a specific way? Are you trying to say something? Nihilism isn’t a statement, it’s the religious equivalent of a chick fart—annoying and smelling of broccoli and old man.

Poot! Te-he!

Poot! Te-he!

Skinny jeans look retarded.

The Jonas Brothers are your fault. As is cancer.

The Jonas Brothers are your fault. As is cancer.

Quit listening to Mariah Carey and Cindy Lauper. Liking something because it’s ironic isn’t funny, it isn’t witty, it’s miserable, unoriginal and stupid, like your haircut.

Pictured: Pitchfork's Editor in Chief aka Your Mom

Pictured: Pitchfork's Editor in Chief aka Your Mom

Kanye West, mobsters and people over 65 can wear Fedoras. They make you look like a tool.

That’s Zac Efron. You’re dressing like purity ring wearing Disney child stars.

That’s Zac Efron. You’re dressing like purity ring wearing Disney child stars.

You dance with the grace of Desiree Jennings. Hopping up and down, shaking your pasty ass arms and spinning your hair around like an epileptic 5 year old on a sugar high isn’t a dance move, it’s a fucking iPod commercial.

Shakin’ it like a kid with palsy.

Shakin’ it like a kid with palsy.

Your poetry sucks, you’ll never finish writing that novel and your understanding of Kafka is shallow at best. And seriously, what’s with the irony? That concept has been around since the dawn of human communication, why the hell are you so obsessed with it? If you like something terrible out of irony, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still fucking terrible.

Not these dudes. They’re radical. You don’t have to like them out of some bizarre sense of not liking them.

Not these dudes. They’re radical. You don’t have to like them out of some bizarre sense of not liking them.

And stop stealing all the cool shit. I’ve been wearing a pair of tasteful, normal sized semi-horn rimmed sunglasses since I saw Reservoir Dogs in high school (What? Mr. Orange was a badass). Now I have to feel like a jackass because people associate them with you asshats (those last sentences have more ass then Rosie O’Donnell’s Tijuana Donkey Show. Yup, I just typed that). Well fuck that, I’m holding out. But you’re also encroaching on plaid, and that’s going too fucking far. And how the hell did regular Nintendo get associated with your shitty subculture? I love the Mario Brothers goddamn it, they’re fun for the whole family.

You’re worse then toad. Now stop co-opting my childhood.

You’re worse than toad. Now stop co-opting my childhood.

Goddamn it I hate you. You make my entire generation look bad because you try so hard to embody that twenty-something malaise. You’re the whitest, most soulless, least original subculture ever created, and you fucking love The Hills after party show. And the worst part is, I know you’ll always be here. There’s always an annoying, just-off-the-mainstream group that loves to pretend to be detached from what general society is doing (even though you’re the fucking target demographic and your politics have all the substance of a Gap commercial). Hippies, goth, grunge, emo, everyone who was over 6 in the 80s, they’re always there and you’re just the slightly less original modern expression. That makes your existence all the more sad and pointless. And it makes me all the more pissed off, because whenever you get sick of looking like strung out Bob Dylans a more annoying group is going to come right along and replace you. Then, as so often happens, you’ll normalize, become middle aged and sit at home with your wife and kids, laughing at how ridiculous you looked in the olden days while drinking hyper-scotch and watching death row inmates attack each other with chainsaws on the holo-generator.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go binge drink and punch baby rabbits until all the bad feelings go away.

Pew pew pew indeed, boxer cat.

Pew pew pew indeed, boxer cat.

Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
28
Oct
2009

Have a Sexy Winter

8 Comments

jody1 by Jody Coughlin

(Sorry, gentlemen, this one is for the ladies.)

It has been brought to my attention as of late, that when the winter months breeze through, the fairer sex begins to feel somewhat less desirable to their beloved counterparts as the bikinis and the summer dresses give way to parkas and toques, flannel pyjamas and the like. What is a gal to do? How can a snow bunny maintain her sex appeal beneath all the layers? It’s easy girls. It’s all about thinking outside the ice box, or the long-johns, in this case.

I, personally, don’t think ladies should ever, under any circumstance, sacrifice personal comfort (and in some cases, safety) in order to attract a man. Far better for the lady in question to use her head and not her-um-boobs, to get the guy, to keep the guy and to live happily ever after with the guy. But, that is just me. Fans of the Brazilian bikini wax or the breast implants? If that is the way you choose to roll, I salute you.

At the risk of giving away a little too much information about my au- natural self to all you readers out there, lets take a look at something a little more north of the border. Let’s talk about your brain and how you can use it to make that man of yours happy and healthy during the winter months, even under that down-filled, puff-ball snowsuit.

It is no secret that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I have never really tested this theory, but I do know that my husband (yup, I am married and have been for eight glorious years now) seems rather delighted when I cook up a good meal, which is not an everyday occurrence. I would be lying to you if I said it was.

One thing I do know though, is that on a cold December evening, nothing seems to put a smile on his face like a piping-hot helping of some freshly made apple crumble. It’s easy. All you do is slice some apples, mix in a little brown and white sugar, some oatmeal and cinnamon and a bit of flour, layer the mix on top of the apples and bake it at about 350 degrees for a half an hour or so and voila! Not only have you thrown a little extra heat around the room from running the oven for a while, you have filled the air with the sweet smell of freshly baked apples kissed with a hint of cinnamon.

What does this mean exactly? It means that your husband/boyfriend is all of a sudden overcome with the tantalizing scent of freshly baked goods, any man’s (or woman’s for that matter) weakness. His mind will become so distracted, overcome in an olfactory sense of the word, that they will be lost in a sea of confectionary bliss despite the cold that lurks just outside the kitchen door.

They will be day dreaming about cheery holiday get-togethers and what kind if Christmas tree might look good in the living room and suddenly, the focus is off the fact that you are wearing leisure pants, an old sweat shirt with kittens on it and a pair of socks so fluffy they give you an extra inch in height. No, that will not be the focus. The focus will be the food, the smell and the final pinnacle of flavour when the loved one in question finally eats the thing you just made.

Milk the attention for all it is worth, ladies. Splash a little four across your brow and wistfully wipe it away with the back of your hand upon the first bite. Sigh just a little, but smile. You will be a hero. Hijinks will most likely ensue in a very sexy way. Throw in a glass of red whine (or a beer) and you are golden. I suspect an event like this can buy you at least a week’s worth of attention from that special someone. Or at least a week’s worth of distraction…

Now it is time to think about attire. Yes. There is nothing sexy at all about a heavy winter coat, it’s true. But what a girl needs to exude here is a little confidence about her choice to make her personal comfort and health her first priority. As drab as a parka can be, there is also nothing sexy about a mini skirt in the dead of winter when the girl wearing that skirt is three shades of blue and shaking like the last dried up leaf that still clings to the maple tree in your grandfathers yard now is there? Of course not!

An ounce of confidence in your personal choice to dress appropriately in the cold weather is every bit as much an aphrodisiac as an entire plate full of oysters (which, they say, are powerful aphrodisiacs-but don’t ask me how sea-snots are sexy, I just don’t know). Your man will soon perceive you as the conquest not yet conquered, will he not? We all know men love the unattainable and nothing says unattainable like a coat zipped up to your eye- balls as long as your sporting that come hither look when you peak out over the fur trim. Am I right? Of course I am right.

Let’s not forget that winter is a perfect time to channel our inner librarian. Every man has a weakness for the sexy, booky type. Here I would suggest, to those of you who do not wear glasses, to head on down to your local Dollarama and pick up a pair of low strength reading glasses. On your way home stop by your local library and pick up a novel or two. Here is where you can promote a little self-care as well as spice things up at home. Are you feeling cerebral? Then ask the librarian to help you pick out something deep and powerful. Are you feeling a little dull in the libido? Romance novels abound. Pick three or four of them up and take them home. I guarantee they will perk your appetite even if they lack substance in literary terms.

Maybe you would like to learn something new like painting or photography. Pick up a do-it-yourself guide to a new hobby like these and impress that honey of yours with your acumen. Here is the key to any of these suggestions; wear your hair in a nice little up-do and tuck a pencil behind your ear while sporting the new spectacles as you read. That man of yours will be intrigued, I just know it. When things get a little steamy, reach up and undo the hair clip and let your hair cascade down around your shoulders. He’ll be putty in your learned hands. Those of you with short hair, I suggest maybe wrapping a shawl or a nice scarf around your shoulders to hide a rather low-cut blouse only to shrug it off at just about the same time as the hair would typically come down.

You see, the options are truly endless. Who said sex-appeal had to go hand in hand with revealing clothing typically worn in the warmer months? I say put the super-skirts away and give the man I your life a little something to be desired. Let their imagination run wild by not giving too much away. Winter is a perfect time to get creative.

In the end, though, if your relationship is unable to withstand the pressures that come with the typical Canadian lifestyle otherwise known as cold weather and the attire that comes with it, well, there may be a deeper problem. Let’s face it, ladies…We are all beautiful and it is not, let me stress should not, be about the clothes. It’s what’s on the inside that counts. Yeah, I know, you’ve heard that a million times before. That is simply because it is true. You are beautiful. You are awesome. Never forget it. Zip up your coat, baby. It’s cold outside.

Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
22
Oct
2009

Dear Asshole #4

24 Comments

dear-assholelogo2

by John McIntyre

Dear Glenn Beck,

Gonna cry? Huh little girl, you gonna cry again? Aww, yeah the world’s a tough place, let it all out you pansy.

Wanh Wanh

Wanh Wanh

Boo-hoo-hoo Jesus isn’t in school anymore and my dirty Mexican servants make my laundry smell like tacos. Don’t worry about the blood coming out your vagina Glenn, you’re just becoming a woman now. Jesus. If you and Edward R. Murrow were cellmates, he’d chew off your skin and stitch it into a festive sombrero.

Dear everyone who watches television,

Balloon boy. That’s what you get for you’re unholy love of reality TV—a little bastard terror child with insane parents who are only interested in their kids as a vehicle for fame. Reality TV has created a culture so obsessed with celebrity that people will go to any length for fifteen minutes on the news. They’re like little kids who’ve been ignored by their parents breaking a vase just to get yelled at—they don’t care if the attention is good or bad. Reality TV stars are generally terrible people (Adam Lambert’s gay), but it’s your fault for watching, and thereby encouraging, that behavior. The Heenes are a monster we all created (except me, I’m not a jackass and I don’t watch reality TV).

Can you say VAPID?

Can you say VAPID?

Look at these miserable five-foot stacks of shit. How the fuck can anyone watch shows about a bunch of miserable, whiny, no-talent assholes that do nothing but leech off their parents’ trust funds? The concept for big brother is “a bunch of people live in a house together and have to get off their asses every once in a while,” American idol is a fucking karaoke contest no matter what anyone says, and shitting a railroad spike is more fun than watching the quartertards on America’s Next top model.

Dear Toronto drivers,

What’s with all the vanity plates? Having HAWLA on the back of your Kawasaki super bike isn’t cool to anyone that isn’t a 14 year old white gangsta.

Alright, that is kind of funny, and the guy has balls of steel. Pure, racist steel.

Alright, that is kind of funny, and the guy has balls of steel. Pure, racist steel.

Dear Catholic Church,

Stop telling people in AIDS ridden countries that condoms are evil. People are going to fuck, lets start putting some rubber between their disease infested crotches so orgasms don’t come at the price of slow and painful deaths.

Weeeeeeeee!

Weeeeeeeee!

Dear school boards in the US, PEI, Yellowknife and possibly other provinces,

Forcing people to censor images of guys’ junk in Japan almost instantly led to the creation of tentacle rape porn in exactly the same way teaching abstinence in school almost instantly leads to butt sex.

*I’m pure like the Jonas brothers, ‘cause as the bible says in 1st Ephesians, 6:9: And yea, God spoketh, “ass banditry be kosher, holmes.”

*I’m pure like the Jonas brothers, ‘cause as the bible says in 1st Ephesians, 6:9: And yea, God spoketh, “ass banditry be kosher, holmes.”

Dear crazy Christians,

Either have full on vag sex or do nothing. Technically, according to your horseshit religion, butt sex, oral sex, kissing, heavy petting, even thinking about sex, are all considered sin. Here’s a real quote to back me up: “But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already,” Matthew 5:28. And from 1st Corinthians, 7:1, ” It is good for a man not to touch a woman.” So if any lust is sinful, and if all sin is equal (James 2:10 “For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it”) then butt sex, and other versions of sex, are as bad as regular ole’ premarital missionary. There’s no way around it, and if you’re going to take the bible literally you have to take the whole fucking thing literally, you crazy asshats. Your ass-fucking is making the baby Jesus cry.

Just let your imagination run wild here.

Just let your imagination run wild here.

Dear Japan,

Seriously, what the fuck?

1820. This picture was made in 18-fucking-20.

1820. This picture was made in 18-fucking-20.

Dear Seth MacFarlane,

Congratulations on ruining jokes that go on for too long. You’re the first person in the world to have actually broken a form of comedy.

HOW MUCH LONGER!?!?

HOW MUCH LONGER!?!?

Also, having Cleveland get his own spin-off because he’s the black character in a family-centric comedy is a funny reference to The Jefferson’s (a spin-off of All in the Family). But it’s not worth making an entire show around that premise, goddamnit.

Dear Leafs,

0 and 7, seriously? I can’t even look people in the eye anymore.

Yup, that’s us.

Yup, that’s us.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
15
Oct
2009

Dear Asshole #3

No Comments

dear-assholelogo1

by John McIntyre

Dear Cheryl Gallant (The uber-Christian, Conservative MP who’s made anti-gay remarks and opposed a bill making it illegal to encourage genocide against people based on their sexual orientation),

Your views are antiquated, wrong and evil. You stand for nothing more than the spread of hatred and you do not deserve to represent Canadians in Parliament. Also, go to hell.

She’s like a chubby princess Dianna, except her charity work is more gay-bashy and less AIDS-researchy.

She’s like a chubby princess Dianna, except her charity work is more gay-bashy and less AIDS-researchy.

Dear Stephen Harper,

How the hell does a man who lists his favorite bands as the Beatles and ACDC support draconian crime and anti-drug legislation? You sir, are not the Walrus.

Stephen Harper: Canadian Prime Minister, pasty white nerd.

Stephen Harper: Canadian Prime Minister, pasty white nerd.

Dear Michael Ignatieff,

You also look like Ricardo Montalbán

KAAAAAAAHHHN!!!!

KAAAAAAAHHHN!!!!

Dear Phone,

Why the hell won’t you just call a local number if I accidently dial one in front of the area code? You play a fucking message telling me it’s a local number. If you know it’s a local number, then just dial the goddamn number. Jesus.

PHOOOOONE!!!

PHOOOOONE!!!

Dear everyone panicking over H1N1,

Calm the fuck down. The so-called pandemic kills far less people then the seasonal flu. Most people who get it have the symptoms of a mild cold, or no symptoms at all. We had an outbreak of swine flu in 1976 that was barely a blip on the radar, except that three people in the US died (from the fucking vaccine). SARS, avian flu, swine flu, the media loves to blow them out of proportion because when we’re scared, we watch.

NEEEEEEEWS!!!

NEEEEEEEWS!!!

Dear people making zombie movies,

Stop. Just stop. Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, Evil Dead, Shaun of the Dead, Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead, those are classics, each of which defied convention and either established a genre or brought a creative twist to that genre (although the titles generally tend to follow the same theme). Adding some awkward, Michael Cera-esque whiny dick and Woody Harrelson getting hit in the head with a golf ball is like improving on Chinatown with a nut shot scene. This bullshit ironic hipster love for zombies is more annoying then herpes, and twice as itchy. Ever since Juno came out Hollywood has just been taking standard genre flicks, throwing in a skinny virgin, turning the irony up to 11 and calling it a goddamn day. It’s not funny, it’s unoriginal, it’s annoying and works perfectly because the public consciousness has all the intelligence and maturity of a Toby Keith song.

BRAAAAAAIIINNS!!!

BRAAAAAAIIINNS!!!

Dear Toby Keith,

From your new hit single, American Ride:

Winter getting’ colder, summer getting’ warmer/Tidal wave comin’ cross the Mexican border/Why buy a gallon, it’s cheaper by the barrel/Just don’t be busted singin’ Christmas carols … Plasma getting’ bigger, Jesus getting’ smaller/Spill a cup of coffee, make a million dollars/Customs caught a thug with an aerosol can/If the shoe don’t fit, the fit’s gonna hit the shan.

Wow. What a beautifully poetic and subtle use of imagery. It’s brilliant, plasma screens—materialism—are getting bigger than Jesus—traditional values—becomes less important in contemporary society. Those greedy materialistic slobs, way to sock them a hard one Mr. Keith! You’ve earned yourself a good soak in your multi-million dollar mansion’s champagne hot tub.

Toby Keith, staying in touch with his conservative Christian roots.

Toby Keith, staying in touch with his conservative Christian roots.

And I agree. Those dirty Mexican’s are like a tidal wave. Doing your laundry, raising your kids, taking the shit jobs at Wal-Mart, it’s just like violently drowning hundreds of people and flooding thousands of homes. Plus, really, Mexicans smell, and they spend half the day napping! Siesta my ass Ricardo, Mr. Toby wants another strawberry-mango daiquiri!

But the brilliance just keeps coming. The illustration of the temperature change in the seasons, what an irreverent reference to global warming. Sir, your writing is far and above the intelligence of all but the most astute four-year-olds. And let’s not forget the best part of this song. Switching the sh in shit with the f in fan to make that delightful little joke. Wow. Just wow. I’m in awe. It’s the perfect cherry to cap this steamy, hot-brown-fudge-covered sundae of a song.

MMMMMM

MMMMMM

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Op-Ed

read more
« Older Entries