check out this new Dru video

Reappear

I am empty of

your boiled metal taste in my mouth

I am empty of

your corners in that disembowled house

37 and dessicated and soiled in hard earth

I am empty of

your vigil, slow, cold and candy coated

I am empty of

your hoar frosted farmer's field

the proof of death in each wheatshaft headstone

I am empty of

your falling down

feasting blackbird's bitter bread

I am empty of

your distance between our skin

all that is left to feel



I am empty of you

World Events

jagermeister
Originally uploaded by The Stranger

Hmm, watched a very interesting movie called zietgist.
I saw outlined again in detail the strange occurences surrounding the 9-11 bombings.

What do you people think? I see two radically different perceptions of reality occuring simoultanesouly. I think that it's important.

Standard veiw:
Radical Islamic terrorists organized by osama ben laden highjacked planes and crashed them into the pentagon and the twin towers resulting in destruction and death. And culminating in the American attacks on afganastan and iraq. The war on terror that Canada is also activily fighting. ( so far the total CIVILIAN death toll in Iraq alone is estimated at somewhere around: 85 000

Alternate view:

It has become standard practice among nations in the last century to create 'false flag' events to fool the populace into favoring war. Possible False flag events include the lucitania (ww1) pearl harbour (ww2) and similar attack of an american pt boat that brought that nation into vietnam. The 9-11 attacks: planes crashing into buildings were drones, the buildings were controlled demolishion, a missle crashed into the pentagon not a plane.

Which view do you follow. Don't you think that this is a fairly fundamental issue?

Ariane

Unrequited Love (further to)

So, the good folks at Anansi Press, "after careful consideration and review", have decided that my wonderful and groundbreaking novel does not meet their current editorial needs.

I am now zero-for-nine. Six more rejections should be arriving in the next month or two. I wish I could say all this negative energy is only making me stronger, but, well, it's not.

Sigh...

On a related note, my novel is about treeplanting, and this is post #3282, which was the highest number of trees I ever planted in a day.

Edsel '58

Seen in the RONA parking lot.

It's not every day you see an Edsel

in Winnipeg

in November

in the snow.

Pigeon of Power

300_pigeon02, originally uploaded by babajiwotan.

A funny thing happened to me on the way to the drink hole last night.
It was of course extremely cold and I was hurrying along. I looked over and there was a small commotion on the street. There was a small crowd of people standing over a bird. So I went over there and took charge. It was a pigeon who couldnt fly. I picked it up and held it. It was obviously very cold. I held it for a few minutes and spoke soothingly to it in the language of pigeons. After contemplation I realized that none of these people were going to save this pigeon (and yukdugu would eat her) and I had better let nature take it's course so I carried it to a spot away from the cars and let it go hoping it would relax and warm up and then maybe it's wing would work. To my surprise when I opened my hands, Miss pigeon didn't fly away but just sat there perched in my hands. So I figured, well, Miss. Pigeon do you want to go get a drink? So I started walking along with the bird to the bar. The bird and I were actually getting along quite well and I found the conversation to be flowing easily. When suddenly passing by an alley a crazy driver suddenly came a- swerving! Miss pigeon and I were startled. She flew up crazily from my arms over the dash of the car and I shouted out. The driver and I made eye contact for a second and I truly wonder after what must have been passing through his mind.

After cursing the driver I looked and Pigeon had flown up into a tree but was stuck there with her wings in the branches. So I climbed up and got her free. Then I figured she would probably get scared again by the big city lights so I just put her there in the snow. When I came back later she had mysteriously disapeared. Strange because I could see the little snow nest where I had put her but there was no tracks of anykind around to indicate she had stumbled away. My hope is that after warming up a bit she was able to fly away on her own power.

Now here I sit, it's early in the morning.
I can't sleep. Is she ok?
Will she ever come back to me? Will I ever see her again?
Was she mad at me because I didn't take her to the bar? Should I go back out there and make sure she's okay?

hit me baby (one more time)

everything i need to
know about the world i
learned from

watching britney spears--

namely:

--being famous has a few perks, but mostly it just sucks
--never create anything that you're not prepared to devour living and whole
--success makes happy people happier, and crazy people crazier
--be careful what you wish for (you just might get it)
--know what you're talking about before the cameras are on you
--don't let other people tell you what you want
--stay in school for as long as you possibly can
--always represent yourself as you really are, and not as you think others want you to be
--eat healthy and get lots of sleep

--you are not your body, as hard as that is to believe.

"the irony is that i'm otherwise a fairly happy person who, for some reason, feels compelled to practice the catholic art of self-flagellation"

i wanted (us)
to imagine it's not
0545 on a tuesday
morning and i'm not
wide awake
or that you're somewhere
twisting into knots over
this too
or that
everyone hadn't stopped
believing in
magic or the
truth of cinema

or imagine that
this all has a purpose,
that i'm going to
rush to the airport
before you go,
tell you you're not
leaving without me or
that i'll find you in
six months
when all this
is over and
you'll cry, of course,
and agree and we both
admit it was all so
foolish and there was nothing
to have stood between us
for so long

but instead we're
here, or
i'm here and you're
somewhere
sound asleep
so,

why do i knot
up on this
over and
over why
do people we love
die why do
so few things play out
the way the movies
tell us they should
it's 0548 i
can't sleep i
don't know where
you are and i
wish i didn't care.

More Drawing Practice

HELP ME!!!

Hi Peeps of the blog (including random visitors)...

I NEED YR HELP!!!

I'm writing an article today about a very cool and very powerful art show. An American artist named Frank Warren began handing out postcards to strangers in 2004, and asking them to write their confessions on them anonymously, and mail them in to him.

It's grown into a multi-year project--he gets 1,000 cards a week right now.

Check out this blog link below, and if you feel so inclinced, send me some random confessions-- i may publish them anonymously in the FP. What's yr dark secret? What are you joyful about that no one knows? Are you turned on by ankles and earlobes? You can post 'em here Anon, or you can email 'em to me. roberts.lorne@gmail.com

Here's his blog, for samples...

(http://postsecret.blogspot.com)

I NEED THIS BEFORE MIDNIGHT TODAY, SO if you can help me i'd be much appreciative.

Temptation

This is one of those sketchbook-page-collaborations many of you are familiar with. The bulk of the ones I participated in were in the organicum residency in Toronto, and let me tell you ... lotsafun! This one was done by Kim Chang Han, Jared Ingalls, the owner (don't know his name) of Ulsan's finest Jazz-playing-tavern, Temptations ('Nidge introduced me to him last year), and myself. It was really fun to go in there and impose this idea/process on them. The bar-guy didn't speak any English, but knew exactly what to do (and couldn't contain a broad smile during that time). He drew the eye part (my favourite).

L'autofiction...

from "La duexieme vie de nelly arcan", in the magazine L'Actualite:


--"L'autofiction est une pratique sado-maso. 'J'etais mes tripes sur la place publique. C'etait presque un sacrifice de moi-meme que j'etais en train de faire,' reconnait Nelly Arcan. 'Je n'ai pas de regrets, mais je ne veux plus de ca'."

untitled, later...

Time has passed
between us like..
oh, i dunno, a
river, i guess, or
like the wind,
like the morning turns to
afternoon--

you're in a caravan now,
in the desrt,
i'm in zurich, before the war,
pursuing nothing
(with enough passion
to destroy me)

i'm happier than you
remember you're
kinder than
i gave you credit for

and i know i
said i'd stop
these letters
but in the absences of
your eyes
they're all i
have to help me
stay awake.

Pedro da Silva dit le Portugais, 1705, First Courier in New France

According to the wikipedia page on Canada Post, Pedro da Silva was the first employee of what would eventually become our national mail service, originally hired in 1693 to deliver mail between Quebec City and Montreal.

This image is apparently a stamp that was issued to commemorate Mr. da Silva.

Ummm... so, why does it look like a photo?  I realize that it's wikipedia, and you can only trust what you find there with a big grain of salt.

Does anyone have any information on this?  I'm just curious, that's all...

Abraham Maslow's Ladder