Friday, September 30, 2005
What Age Do You Act?
|You Are 31 Years Old|
Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.
13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.
20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.
30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!
40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.
Creepy. One year off. I'm just not saying wether I'm older or younger than it.
neolithic pondered at 10:53 |
Thursday, September 29, 2005
The Home Fires Burn Brightly
Copyright 2005 Jeff Vickers
The forest began to glow a bright, straw orange. As the old LaPaglia house burned to the ground, the light from the pyre, along with the billows of smoke, erased the stars from the sky. Maria, standing quietly by a tree, takes a drag of her cigarette, while staring hypnotically into the blaze engulfing the home.
* * *
Inside an old Victorian home, Maria, standing over the body of Carmine, sneered in disgust, and spat on the man. Carmine did not stir. Nor did he stir after mild kicks to the sternum or abdomen, though he still breathed labouriously. Maria noticed the liquor cabinet, and took the bat she was brandishing, and smashed the lock.
Maria hurriedly poured herself a bourbon, which she only half drank. The rest she spilled over Carmine's motionless body. The remainder of the contents of the liquor cabinet were methodically spread about the beautiful wooden home.
Maria, sensing her job was nearly complete, lit a cigarette in an act of celebration. After two puffs, she tossed the fag into a small pool of liquor, which almost immediately ignited.
* * *
"Maria, what are you doing?" screamed Carmine, clutching his bloody groin, and hobbling towards the slender woman, who stared him down like an eagle stares down it's prey.
Maria said nothing. From behind her back she drew a wooden Louisville Slugger, and without hesitation or remorse, assailed Carmine repeatedly until he lay nearly motionless on the floor.
* * *
Maria entered Carmine's room, where the old man lay sleeping, looking peaceful, breathing deeply. Maria mounted Carmine, who still did not stir. Maria carefully unfastened the old man's pants, and drew both trousers and unmentionables down to knee length.
Like a pro, Maria began to arouse Carmine. Her gaze focused on his face, she continued, waiting for the old man to catch up. Carmine slowly roused, and when the old man came to, and made eye contact with Maria, she knew it was time. She drew the switchblade from her belt, and immediately, yet methodically, removed Carmine's manhood with the skill of a surgeon.
The bloodcurtling scream that ensued could wake the dead. Carmine immediately rose, though tripped on his pants. He quickly pulled them up, and gave pursuit of Maria until he saw her standing opposite him in the living room. Unbeknownst to Carmine, Maria was brandishing a baseball bat behind her back.
* * *
Maria entered the old home cautiously, her nerves a total wreck. She questioned herself with every step, every breath, and every motion. As she approached the hallway to Carmine's bedroom, an old picture of herself as a young girl, hanging from the wall, caught her attention. Maria's apprehension immediately turned to anger. Straw yellow flames burned in her eyes, and she continued onto Carmine's room.
* * *
Maria continued to gaze at the blazing home, with a sardonic grin, knowing her job was now done. As she continued to gaze, the memories began to fill her, as her barriers were finally down. The visits in the middle of the night. The gags. Being bound in her own bed in that house. All the times that Carmine raped Maria, his own daughter, flooded into Maria's mind, and she broke down into tears.
A dark figure emerged from the home ablaze. As it drew closer, Maria's tears turned back to anger. It was Carmine.
"Was what I did really that bad? I made you a woman baby."
Maria swung at Carmine, though all she hit was air. All Carmine could do was laugh. "I will be with you always now, daughter dearest."
neolithic pondered at 23:59 |
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
The coolest thing I've heard in ages
As many of you already know, Dawn and I made the trek eight hours north to Quesnel, BC, to celebrate Si's birthday, and also get to meet for the first time, Si's and Jana's son, Maynard.
It was awesome to see the glow in his eyes, and the big cheesey grin cross Mayn's face each time he looked at me. To be honest, I'd never felt connected to a baby quite in the same way I was connected to Mayn.
Maybe it was from being alone and isolated when I was growing up. Not having brothers or sisters, and very few cousins having children of their own, maybe I just haven't had much experience in the matter.
Though what really touched me the most, Jana, the closest person I have to a sister, kept calling me "Uncle Jeff" to Mayn the whole weekend.
neolithic pondered at 23:06 |
Things you learn while recovering from day long hangovers
God it takes going on vacation and getting out of the loop to see what's really going on. On Sunday, after a casual drive through the metropolis of Quesnel, BC, Dawn and I decided to make a quick stop at Tim Horton's, to relax a little from the drive, and put a coffee in to counterbalance the previous night of drinking.
As per my habit, I grabbed the newspaper, and flipped to the crossword, which was already done.
DAMN! After fully perusing the paper, it dawned on my why the crossword had been finished. The paper was well over a week old. Guess the news takes a week to get up to the Cariboo. It's still faster than I ever seem to get it.
On the opinion section, there was a few letters to the editor published that way, in response to former Prime Minister Brian Mulroney's
comments regarding his belief that he is Canada's Greatest Prime Minister.
What was more frightening was that there are people who actually support this notion. Like David Searle, of Etobicoke, Ontario, who wrote this lovely send up, which I will quote verbatim.
I have the highest regard and respect for Brian Mulroney, Canada's decisive former prime minister.What a load of shit. I do applaud that Mr. Searle at least looks back in history enough to find other candidates, but please. Get the fuck off of your right wing high horse of fear induced thought just for one minute, please. Though there is argument to whom I believe is the best Prime Minister ever. I agree that Lester B. Pearson, Wilfrid Laurier, William Lyon Mackenzie King all did great things, but my choice still is the truest, great leader of them all.
However, for Brian to brag that he was the best prime minister since John A. MacDonald, is to overlook this Conservative's first choice, Robert Borden.
After which, I would inflate Mulroney's bloated ego by rating him No. 2.
There is no question Mulroney's free-trade agreement smashed through the walls of protectionism erected by U.S. Senators.
The GST, which replaced the export-hampering manufacturer's sales tax, likewise accelerated exports while furnishing the revenue to reverse the near bankrupting impact of decades of accrued, annual defecits.
Also, the deployment of 12 modern, Canadian-built frigates boosted the morale and prowess of our navy.
But Brian does sound like a bitter old man when he spews venomous rubbish about his successor, Kim Campbell.
I am convinced Campbell lost the election in the fallout over her pessimistic unemployment rate forecast, which Jean Cretien capitalized on, and because she shared a decency and honesty on par with Tory statesman Joe Clark.
Lastly, while I miss the days when the Cold War warriors Brian Mulroney, Margaret Thatcher, and Ronald Reagan stood united, Mulroney did cave into pressure by ditching a plan for new, nuclear-propelled, attack submarines.
By doing so, he left our coastline vulnerable to hostile nations and terrorists.
Pierre Elliot Trudeau. My respect for this man is so large, I personally consider him not only the Greatest Canadian PM, but one of the best leaders in world history.
However, just to "one up" old Power Chin,
let's see how the Northern Magus
stacks up. (Hat tip to Angloman).
- Introduced the GST, which pissed off the whole of Canada, and even made Albertan's pay tax.
- Nearly split Canada in two, by sabotaging an ammendment, bringing his (and my) home province of Quebec into Canada officially, not once, but twice. All while Quebec had a strong Liberal, non-seperatist government.
- Was imitated too many times, like above, depicted in comic strips, where the only funny point was the massive chin.
- Took orders from Reagan, and was not accountable to Canadians.
PIERRE ELLIOT TRUDEAU
- Brought true independence to Canada, giving Canada the right to ammend it's own constitution, not at the barrel of a gun, but with a handshake and a smile.
- Nearly include Quebec in said constitution, while Quebec was led by Rene Levesque, one of the most powerful seperatist forces Quebec has known.
- Encouraged Canadians to be socially responsible, while trying to improve conditions for all Canadians.
- Got to hang out with John Lennon and Yoko Ono.
- Is imitated by wearing red roses, and pirouettes (just like the one shown below).
Oh wait, we have. The CBC held such a challenge, but for all Canadians.
The Greatest Canadian.
It seems the majority of Canadians agree with me. Though Tommy Douglas was the Greatest Canadian, he never made Prime Minister, and the only other Canadian greater than Trudeau was Terry Fox. As for Canada's choices on leaders, here's how they stack, from Trudeau to Mulroney.
Pierre Elliot Trudeau, Liberal
Lester B. Pearson, Liberal
Sir John A. MacDonald, Conservative
Sir Wilfred Laurier, Liberal
Jean Cretien, Liberal
John George Diefenbaker (namesake of the 3x20 Dief box), Progressive Conservative
William Lyon Mackenzie King, Liberal
Brian Mulroney, Progressive Conservative.
Wow. Brian, you can't read, can you. Lesson for the day, a one (1) looks just a wee bit different than an eight(8). We Canadians seem to be more humanitarian as opposed to money grubbing oil bandits like our neighbors to the south. Now, Mr. Mulroney and Mr. Searle, just for some salt to the wound, here's some other notable Canadians who we like better than Brian.
Stompin' Tom Connors
Mike "Austin Powers" Myers
Maurice "The Rocket" Richard
Celine Dion (wait while I vomit)
Michael J. Fox
Bret "Hitman" Hart
Pamela Anderson (yup, the one with the big boobies)
and how could I ever forget old Bill
Maybe you Conservitive back benchers should think before you talk.
neolithic pondered at 14:14 |
And it seems that I haven't posted much over the weekend. Okay, let's not break thumbs. I didn't hit a computer for four days. As such, for filler to bring me up four posts today, I bring you a meme, courtesy of Meredith.
1. WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME: Jeff*** ****** Vickers
2. WHAT COLOUR UNDERWEAR ARE YOU WEARING? Erm... a towel, just got out of the shower.
3. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? 867-5309 - Jenny DAMN YOU TOMMY TUTONE!
4. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Four Chicken Weiners with Hot Sauce last night. I didn't have the energy to cook or blog after 12 hours of site seeing through the Cariboo and Kamloops.
5. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOUR WOULD YOU BE? Black. Give yourself, to the Dark Side of the Force. It is the only way to save your friends. Especially for... sister. So you have a twin sister. Your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for her are strong. Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the Dark Side, then perhaps SHE WILL!
6. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? My Mom. I don't get a lot of phone calls, except for business.
7. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX? Eyes. They are the windows to the soul.
8. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU THIS? Yeah, except she never can be reached anymore.
10. FAVOURITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK? Since Coke rots my teeth now, Rye and Coke, the former, is out of the question. As such, I have to go with frosty pints of Stella Artois.
11. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No, but if you see any pictures of me, my glasses are becoming more obvious.
12. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT? Shy, no. I, however, am too comitted and in love with Dawn to ever consider any other. That and she'd tear my balls off. Love you babe!
13. HUGS OR KISSES? Erm... both. Guess this question is geared towards the ladies.
14. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS? Relationships. Period. I wouldn't give Dawn up for anything.
16. DO YOU WANT YOUR FRIENDS TO WRITE BACK? Don't email. Post. And I'm sure someone will blast this off of my site, just as I blasted from an email.
17. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? My guesses are too bad, so as such, Dawn.
18. WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Somebody who doesn't have a blog?
19. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING? Just finished Angels and Demons by Dan Brown, finally, and now eagerly anticpate cracking into Star Wars and Philosophy, ed. by Kevin S. Decker and Jason T. Eberl.
20. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT? Erm... Drove through Kamloops (as we left the Cariboo in the afternoon), and took loads of piccies until it was dark. Bought Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story, which is brilliant. If Dawn and I weren't so knackered, we may have had a "Sexy Party".
21. LAST PLACE YOU WENT ON HOLIDAY? Just got back from Quesnel, BC, for a four day sourjourn in the Cariboo.
22. WHO/WHAT INSPIRES YOU? Black figures with mechanical breathing devices, One-Year-Olds bent on world domination and killing mom's named Lois, my sis, her man and her newborn son, and my babe Dawn.
23 BUTTERED, PLAIN, OR SALTED POPCORN? Hot Barbecque spicy flavour.
24. FAVOURITE CAR? Lamborghini Diablo Roadster.
25. FAVOURITE FLOWER? Flower? Too girly. Plant... Venus Fly Trap. And not the DJ Venus Fly Trap.
26. CAN YOU JUGGLE? Yes. Yes I can. Dawn I bet will be surprised by this.
27. RED OR WHITE WINE? Red wine. So long as it's Italian.
28. WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY? Went out for drinks with Dawn, James, and Carla back in Toronto, on a very cold day, under threat from Dawn not to go overboard.
29. WHAT IS YOUR STAR SIGN? Saggitarius, the archer. Firmly based in reality while shooting for your dreams.
30. EVER BEEN IN LOVE? Yes. And I still am.
31. MOTTO: A few. Veni, vidi, vicci. Et tu, Brute? Give yourself to the Dark Side. Quis Dolor Cui Dolium.
neolithic pondered at 13:14 |
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Bringing balance back to the Dark Side of the Force
Let the hate FLOW through you.TGINS. Not F, as in Friday, but NS, as in Not shooting on Smallville today. Or tomorrow. Or at least until the middle of next week. I've paid my weekly penance, will be rewarded with a gigantic cheque next week, and as such, I'm taking a few personal days, up in the Cariboo, visiting a great friend.
It was weird. After the Tuesday shit festival, I doubted I could hold out for a week. Luckily, however, balance returned to the Dark Side. Because we shot around water, we had a limited crew around set for safety purposes, which meant instead of sweating fear pounds off of my slender body, I got to hang out more at Craft Services and put some of those pounds back. And I got to make up for those messed up high stress mistakes on Tuesday. So all is good.
Though, one of the keys (I won't say who) in the electric department is now the SECOND who rivals Mr. Rogers
as to whom is more benign.
neolithic pondered at 08:45 |
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Types of bullying
Bullying is when someone repeatedly acts or says things to have power over another person. Bullies mainly use a combination of intimidation and humiliation to torment others. The following is some examples of bullying techniques:Funny how this example involves a lot of inferences that would occur in the workplace. And for the longest time, I held the belief that as we grew into adults that we became tolerant of each other's differences, strengths, and weakness, and learned to accept each other. It's actually happened. I've reconciled with several bullies from my past. But of course, then I'm reminded of Dubya. There's a bully who proves we have a lot of evolving left to do.
* Calling the victim names and stating the victim is useless at whatever they do
* Spreading gossip and rumours about him/her
* Threats of job loss and disciplinary action for unspecified reasons
* Constant negative criticism for unspecified allegations
* Taking the victim's possessions or taking control of the victim's work
* Demoting the victim
* Making the victim do what they do not want to do with a threat of violence or disciplinary action if they refuse
* Actually following through with a threat on one occasion to ensure the victim will comply with all future orders
* Cyberbullying through the use of various information technologies
But as such, it does really suck ass when people are bullied at work. No matter how much stress comes down the pipe, supervisors and such shouldn't take it out on their crews. Unfortunately, they still do, and make good people small.
It really does suck. Just saying.
neolithic pondered at 23:31 |
I'm a loser baby...
So why don't you kill me.
I'm normal. Ish. Maybe. Though my babe is cooler than me. How do I know?
neolithic pondered at 22:52 |
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Define irony: a bunch of idiots dancing around on a plane to a song made famous by a band that died in a plane crash.In a completely unrelated development, I am reminded of this post that Dawn made not too long ago. I believe it has one line in there that said
Garland Greene, Con Air, uttered while a number of convicts dance on a hijacked airplane, while Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd is played in the background.
I don't know how many of you have been receiving Spam comments on your blogs, but I know of a [couple] already, so I've decided to turn on "Word Verification" in order to try and combat it before it reaches my blog.So, as such, I'm sure you can join me in my utter surprise, when today, Dawn just had to buy this grocery shopping...
neolithic pondered at 17:35 |
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Disclaimer Episode II
I got kinda appalled when I saw this comment on Dawn's site.
Anonymous said...Wow. Not that I shouldn't be surprised. Yes. I am excited that I had the opportunity to day call on X-Men 3 for four days last weekend. It has been something I had been looking forward to since having moved to British Columbia from Ontario late in June. What a great goal to achieve for a FULL YEAR of heartache and pain. Don't believe me? Go back into the archives of this and my other blogs (which are all linked). Trust me. It's been hell, and I'm glad that things have turned around. Good things come to us who wait and persist.
I'm from holland and post on the SHH forums. I'm a big fan of X-Men and was wondering if you/he can answer these questions for me and other members of the forum please. what Jeff did do on the set of X-Men 3? What does Halle Berry (hair), Kelsey Grammer, Ben Foster and others look like in costume.Where were they shooting when he was on set? Can you describe any scenes? Has he seen Gambit? When are they going to release the first pics?
Anything else you can say?
Now then, Mr. Anonymous. I just wonder, if it has ever struck you at all, that I'd flush my entire film opportunity right down the toilet by violating my confidentiality agreement with X-Men (or any other show for that matter) just to please a group of individuals who are so hung up on their favourite shows that they can't wait until next summer, LIKE THE REST OF US, to find out what happens. Even for us film technicians who work on the sets, we still are enough out of the loop for story, as so when we do have the chance to see the finished product, we can still enjoy the film without knowing too much. One of the great benefits of shooting out of order.
So, as a message for anyone else who wants to ask me about what happens on the shows I have worked, I'll just say, YOU'RE BARKING UP THE WRONG TREE. Here's a hint. I grew up in the 70's and 80's, in the whole Star Wars original trilogy era. We didn't have internet. So how did we find out what happened in the films? We did it the old fashioned way.
WE WAITED UNTIL IT WAS RELEASED INTO THEATRES, GOT IN LINE, BOUGHT A TICKET, AND ENJOYED THE SHOW.
Follow my last year. Be patient. Good things happen to those who wait.
P.S. (to the Irish Minnesotan) this is NOT in response to your request for dirt. And this Stella's for you (since I have no Guinness) [beer].
neolithic pondered at 00:12 |
Friday, September 16, 2005
Copyright 2005 Jeff Vickers
In the darkness, footsteps on concrete slowly begin to march, then echo. Another set of footsteps add to the mix. More footsteps add, until a rush of movement fills the void. Suddenly, the void is annihilated with a bright light.
Monica, lying on a tiled floor, begins to stir. Her eyes squint tightly as she opens them. As her eyes adjust, the sound of the feet is married with a large volume of people, moving all in one direction past her. Monica sits upright, and gives her head a shake, and all her hair falls out of place into her face. Messily, she clears it from her eyes, and is compelled to look at her watch.
It read 8:30 AM. It hit her. Everything came into focus in one moment; her Master's thesis defence was in just a half hour. The sign on the wall on the other side of the hallway, "Metro" and an arrow pointing in the same direction as the pedestrians. Monica quickly rose to her feet, and hurried along with the other commuters.
Monica's rushed journey came to an abrupt halt as she just misses the train in Atwater station, the car's door sliding shut right in front of her. "Un autre train prochain a deux minutes." Two minutes isn't bad. Monica tried to tidy her hair in the reflection in the rushing windows, when she noticed something odd. There was a passenger, standing in the car, that looked to be nothing but a shadow.
"Strange" thought Monica, though she clutched her documents for her thesis, "Perceptual Effects of the Brain by Subjection to Extreme Environments and Conditions." Monica had been up for three nights preparing for her thesis defence. "It will be nice to get some rest tonight, FINALLY."
Monica caught the next train, a short trip from Atwater to McGill, and was able to tidy herself up before her thesis defence. Why she was lying on the Metro floor, she still was unsure, but her mind stayed true to her goal for the day. To successfully defend her thesis. The train stopped at McGill station, and Monica darted out with authority, knowing she couldn't stop if she was to be on time.
Monica reached the Department of Psychology, just in time. She took a moment to compose herself, took one deep breath, and strode forward. WHAM! Right into her Master's advisor, Dr. Jacob Roberts.
"That was a marvelous defence. I wouldn't be surprised if you get fully funded for your doctoral research."
Confused, Monica was speechless. Out of the corner of her eye, a figure, just a shadow, darted away from the auditorium where students do their defences, down a dark hallway. Inadvertently, Monica uttered a soft "thanks", and pursued the shadow down the hallway. Dr. Roberts shook his head for a moment, and made his way back to his office.
Monica ran after the shadowy figure, and noticed it went into the woman's lavoratory. Monica went right in after. Monica, once inside, froze in horror. She stood opposite a figure, the same size as a person, but with absolutely no features, just a big black shadow. The blackness grew out of the figure, and then Monica noticed something odd. Her reflection, without any background, appeared in the figures body. Monica became engulfed in darkness, and the last sound she heard was a strained voice scraping out the word "Doppelganger."
Months later, at McGill graduation ceremonies, Monica was called up to receive her Master's degree. Through the shadows, a dark figure made its way up the stairs, but on stage, Monica stood, in cap and gown, to pick up her degree. As she turned for family and friends to take pictures, nobody noticed the jet black eyes she had.
neolithic pondered at 11:27 |
Thursday, September 15, 2005
The laws of filmmaking
As I've more than likely made mention of in several posts, no matter how much preperation is put in, no matter how prepared a crew is for the unknown, Murphy seems to rear his ugly head, like crap rising to the surface. For the three people left out there who are not familiar with Murphy's Law, I give it to you here...
If anything can go wrong, it willNow lets see. I worked de-rigging this unnamed film (being made after a video game, to boot) today, which was located in Chiliwack, about 1 1/2 hours realistic drive outside of Burnaby. Being so far out of the normally accepted driving radius, I got paid the moment I sat in my car at 7 AM to head out to the location. YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!
Corollary: It can
MacGillicuddy's Corollary: At the most inopportune time
And for an hour and a half of sheer bliss (read 7 cups of coffee on the drive there), I enjoyed the scenic drive along #1 and through Chiliwack, things were going well. Then, Murphy showed up. Go figure.
When I recieved the call last night from dispatch, I was instructed to drive down a sideroad which winded through the mountains, well out of city and mobile range. I had to turn off onto another road, but the individual who gave me directions decided not to tell me how to make the final kilometer of the journey, opting to give me the instruction to follow the markers to the crew parking area. See, when a film is shooting at a location, they put up the markers to make it easy to find said set.
Needless to say, Murphy (okay somebody in Locations, but who's counting) removed all the signs. I couldn't even find the road, as it was hidden and unmarked. As such, I continued down the road until it hit a dead end, only to turn back and hit metropolitan Chiliwack, to get mobile service, and ask a fresh voice for directions.
And what did I get? "Just follow the markers on the road and you'll get to [said location]." Obviously, that just didn't work for me. I had now been hunting out this location for the better part of three hours, with no success. So I went on asking for something more specific as the markers were now down. So, the friendly voice on the other end of the phone, exasperated, made the physically draining effort of grabbing the map and figuring out where I had to go.
Wow. After getting real directions, not the follow the yellow brick road variety, I can get to where I need to go. In just three hours (twice the necessary time, using far too much expensive gasoline). Something tells me there's a message here.
The probability that something can go wrong is directly proportional to the square of the amount of inconvenience it can cause you.
The two most abundant things in all the universe are hydrogen and stupidity.or just perhaps
If authority was mass, stupidity would be gravity.
neolithic pondered at 21:29 |
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Meme's for health
Sitting here, waiting for IATSE to call, just makes it hard to keep occupied. Therefore, meme's.
Blasted from Laura:
|Act your age||Definitely not. I'm in an industry that makes you act younger while your body feels ancient.|
|Born on what day of the week||Tuesday. I never got Tuesdays, the same as Arthur Dent never got Thursdays. The only consolation of Tuesday is that it's cheap night at the flix.|
|Chore you hate||Cleaning my car. Speaking of which...|
|Dad's name||Miguel. Well in English, that's Michael.|
|Essentail make-up item||Guys? Makeup? Well, if Dawn lets me, a Canucks logo for my face.|
|Favorite actors/actresses||Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro, Christopher Walken, Julianne Moore, Uma Thurman, Anna Paquin|
|Gold or sliver||Gold. The colour of Queen's Engineering.|
|Hometown||Montreal, PQ, Canada.|
|Instruments you play||Trombone, Piano, I try to play guitar, but fail miserably.|
|Job title||Lamp Operator/Lighting Technician.|
|Kids||None. Though our Zebra Finches are due to hatch 3 eggs.|
|Living arrangements||1 Bedroom Flat with my Fiancee Dawn.|
|Number of socks you own||2 x 10^4|
|Overnight hospital stays||None since I lost my two front teeth in a bar fight in Detroit, Michigan, 7 years ago. And yes, I won.|
|Phobia||Swinging around on unsafe cranes 150ft above the ground.|
|Quote you like||"Veni, Vidi, Vicci", "Et tu, Brute?", and "no Luke, I am your father."|
|Religious affiliation||Agnostic/Spiritual, though I probably lean towards Zen Buddhist.|
|Siblings||None biological, though have two sis's and a bro. Choosing your familia works better :P|
|Time you woke up today||10:30 AM PDT. God I love days off from filming.|
|Unusual habits||I like to drink Maple Syrup and Swiss Chalet sauce. Yeah I'm a freak along with being a dork.|
|Vicious thing you've done||Broke someone's nose. Well, he knocked out my two front teeth.|
|X-rays you've had||Most of my body. Chest, knee, head, arm, wrist, legs, you name it.|
|Your favorite season||Winter. Hockey and Skiing. 'Nuff said.|
More from Bzoink
|Favorite Movie from the saga?||The Empire Strikes Back, though Revenge of the Sith is a close second.|
|Character?||Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader|
|Line?||No Luke, I am your father.|
|Villian?||Jabba the Hutt (only because I feel that Vader is the Tragic Protagonist)|
|Action Scene?||Too many to like. Darth Maul vs. Qui Gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi is really kick ass and stands out at this moment.|
|Ewoks or Wookiees||Wookies. Ewoks in Jedi make Episode I and II look like Oscar hopefuls.|
|Anakin or Obi-Wan||Anakin|
|Padme or Leia||Leia|
|Vader or Maul||Vader|
|Lightsaber or Blaster||Lightsaber|
|Would u consider yourself a SW geek?||Ummm... yeah.|
|Am I annoying you?||I find your lack of faith disturbing.|
|Who is your favorite character?||Stewart Gilligan Griffin|
|Who is the funniest out of the Griffens?||Stewie (again)|
|What is your fav. qoute from your fav. character?||This God fellow is so deliciously EVIL|
|What is stewies best line?||Seeing as it's been answered above, another Stewie quote: "I have an idea, why don't you kill Lois?"|
|Which episode is the best?||Road to Rhode Island|
|Have you ever seen the banned episode?||Yes I have.|
|If you have, should it have banned?||No it shouldn't have.|
|Who is Funnier|
|Quagmire or Death?||Quagmire|
|Stewie or Brian?||Stewie|
|Peter or Everyone?||Peter|
|Clevland or Joe?||Joe|
|Meg or Leowis||Lois|
|ONE MORE BIG QUESTION|
|Do you think they should come out with more episodes and seansons?||Yes. Yes they should.|
neolithic pondered at 17:45 |
Fall is upon us
And football is in the air. I know, it is a poor substitute for the blessed game, but it does make for interesting table conversation with the Yorkshire Angel. Well until we get into the status of Dawn's beloved club, still one league below my beloved football club, who incidentally is the defending champions (insert evil grin here).
Well, not the Premiership champions. Not the FA cup champions. Not the Carling Cup champions though, which is odd. But, the UEFA Champions league champions.
As such, I've started playing (though very poorly) the Premiership Predictor over at Sportsnet. I'm hoping this week goes better. Here's my picks (in bold)...
Chelsea vs CharltonI will say this about being in Vancouver though. The eight hour time difference to the UK sucks ass. We've got to get up at 7 AM on the weekends to watch footy. Grrr. Well it beats watching American Rugby.
West Ham vs Fulham (Draw)
Bolton vs Man City
Birmingham vs Portsmouth (Draw)
West Brom vs Sunderland
Middlesbrough vs Wigan
Tottenham vs Aston Villa
Man Utd vs Liverpool
Newcastle vs Blackburn (Draw)
neolithic pondered at 11:20 |
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
To hell and back
And all we got were these lousy pictures from the chemists.
Ok, well maybe they're not lousy. MAYBE. Here we go.
The Hell's Gate Air Tram, which lifts people down to the Fraser River and back up to the Trans Canada and parking.
Looking down the AirTram, from the parking area towards the visitor center.
The suspension bridge that crosses over the Fraser River, and right over the Hell's Gate pass.
Hell's Gate Pass.
Dawn looking out toward the Air Tram.
And I don't know why this was here, but I had to take this picture.
Just don't call Dawn small. I'm looking towards Jules whilst I say this.
neolithic pondered at 18:07 |
If I dig a very deep hole, where I go to stop?
Thanks to our very good friends over at Google, there's a cute little appendage to the whole Google Earth fun, found here. No, it's not part of Google Earth, but it uses the image maps. It lets you know where you would end up, if you dug straight through the middle of the earth. And yes, it's a big dig.
Here's the map I attained. I'll let you guess where I am and where the opposite is.
Concept blasted from Stiggy, who in turn blasted from Phin, and I'm sure there's more generations of blasting involved.
neolithic pondered at 17:22 |
Monday, September 12, 2005
It's been a few days
And for those of you who haven't deciphered the cryptic (ish, ok, well for non-geeks) message, I've been doing lighting for the last four days on X-Men 3. And to disclaimer now, I've signed an agreement not to reveal what goes on in the show, though I've been on second unit, and as such, we're shooting low dramatic priority scenes, and as such, I haven't much idea of what the whole plot is. So next summer see the movie. It should be good. Did get to meet Hugh Jackman which was cool. He definitely is not a prima donna type, and is very down to earth, even giving me a brief high five after a day's shoot.
Anyhow, my brain feels like goo, so as such, something with more punch tomorrow. Until then, I leave you with this, thanks to Jean.
neolithic pondered at 23:18 |
Friday, September 09, 2005
It definitely has been a strange week. As per normal for a short week (us Canucks and I believe the Yanks too celebrate this sardonic holiday called Labour Day), IATSE day calls were thin. Though now with things picking up, and life getting on, it's easier to deal with. But still, when a passion in your heart calls you, it's tough to sit and wait.
Then this strange voice echoed in my head. "You are a god amongst insects. Don't let anybody tell you any different." Right. I shouldn't let the film school idiots tell me that I'm not a good director, writer, or cinematographer. They all gave up on their goals, just to sit on high horses, trying to erase the memory of too many failed films.
"Mankind has evolved." Yes, of course. This isn't about anything else but paying my dues. Just like everyone else. Who was that voice, why is it saying such things. Then it spoke again.
"Mankind is evolving. Into us."
Whoah. Trippy. I try to shake the voice, bringing myself to a zen center.
Then one last rant from the voice.
"We are the future, Charles, not them! They no longer matter!"
Wait a minute. My name isn't Xavier. Though after clearing my head, I answered the call and had a wonderful day call today. Too bad it was cut short by heavy thunder.
neolithic pondered at 22:36 |
Thursday, September 08, 2005
All one has...
Is their word. However, nowadays, even that is in jeopardy. People mire themselves in a large scale of lies, falsehoods, and misdirections. Don't believe me? Take this into consideration. How many pieces of identification do you need to show now just to write a cheque. How many codes are there to your credit card? Why on earth do we need a minimum drink limit? Simple. Because we abuse the system. We try to get out of responsibility by deception.
Which is why I'm glad to salute Google.com, or Google.ca for us Canucks, for being the most honest search engine on the 'net.
Don't believe me? Try this challenge, concieved by none other than one of my best mates,
1. Log on to google.com.Here's a glimpse of what I got.
2. Type 'failure' into the search field.
3. Click I'm Feeling Lucky.
neolithic pondered at 19:50 |
Fiction Friday... One Day Early
I'm eager, though I'm not sure how good this is... feedback would be appreciated.
FAMILY ROOTS Copyright 2005 Jeff Vickers
"It's not true. You're lying."
"It is true. You know in your heart I'm right."
Chantal stood in the alley behind her house, her backpack and books littered the ground in front of her. Bruno stood across from her, unshaven, wearing the same clothes for the last few days. Chantal, nervous but motionless, manages enough composure to grab a cigarette from her pocket, and lights it with great labours as her hands shake through the whole ordeal.
"You know those things will kill you. Well, actually, not really." Bruno looks towards Chantal, giving a knowing glance. "Haven't you ever felt like you weren't like the others, like you didn't fit in?"
Chantal definitely wasn't the Prom Queen from high school. She was tall, over six feet, thin, and dressed herself in nearly all black. However, she did not follow the Goth trend, and chose not to wear any makeup. Still, with her long, unmanageable dark hair, she possessed a natural beauty and aura. A natural academic, she had the highest graduating average in high school, and received a full scholarship at McGill University.
Chantal's success wasn't without its price. She was completely outcast since grade school. When she took the bus to school, she had to find an empty seat, as none of the other kids would let her share a double seat with them. Even when it got to the Graduation Formal, nobody asked her to be their date, over a dozen boys opted to go single rather than ask her.
Chantal felt lucky that during such difficult, emotional, growing times, that her parents always supported her. Being a keen scientist, Chantal always ended up teaching her mother more about Newton's Laws and chemical compositions as her mother made daily unsuccessful attempts to tutor her. Chantal, however, appreciated the company and always made her mother feel welcome to spend the later part of the afternoon and the early evenings studying with her. She was always grateful for each moment she spent with her mother, which she still carries with her to this day, to help ease the pain of her mother's passing, nearly one year ago.
Her father was a hard working, borderline workaholic, assembly line supervisor, who fought hard to make sure that his daughter was well taken care of. Chantal was, though it always longed in her heart that she wished she could have spent time with her father the same as she could with her mother. It weighed on her that her father may die without her really knowing him. To date, the last words he spoke to her were "You'll always be my little angel."
"You're my little angel." remarked Bruno, snapping Chantal from a brief reverie. Chantal shook her head, and quickly, yet subtly, the paralysis of fear set into her body, making it quite rigid yet again.
"You were never there. Even if you did knock Mom up, you never came back to see me. Jack Carver is my father. I don't believe you. I'll never believe you."
"You don't look a thing like your father."
"I take after my mother."
"Your father was the big man on campus when he was young. You were the eccentric, bright youngster cast out by your peers. Don't you think some of that would have rubbed off? Have you ever wondered why Jack worked such long hours? He could pay the bills. That wasn't the problem. Didn't Daddy ever tell you why he didn't spend time with you?"
Chantal's anger grew within her, breaking her psychosomatic paralysis. "You take that back, you fucking asshole." Unknown to Chantal, Bruno had been brandishing a small handgun, carefully concealed around his back. Chantal took a step towards Bruno, bringing herself face to face with the stranger. Bruno quickly shoved her back a few steps, and pulled out the firearm.
"I have no time to play this game." Bruno blurted quietly, as he quickly and deliberately pulled the trigger of the gun, releasing an earth shattering bang, along with a white flash.
Chantal saw nothing but white. After a moment that seemed like an eternity, the image of her mother and father appeared. Both smiled at her warmly, and soon her mother faded away, only leaving her father. Jack soon crumbled, and from the rubble of Jack's remains, Bruno crawled out from underneath.
Another quick white flash.
Chantal was back in the alley, though all appeared odd. Chantal circled around twice, not noticing anything. Her gaze fell on Bruno, and then it dawned on her. Bruno was frozen, still holding the gun up, pointed at her. Shortly ahead was a bullet, suspended in the air. Chantal quickly walked up to the bullet, and grabbed a hold of it.
Chantal gets thrown to the ground like she was hit with a shockwave. "See, I told you that you were different. How many of your friends could pull a bullet out of the air like that?"
Bruno offered Chantal a hand and brought her back to her feet.
neolithic pondered at 01:39 |
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Chain Blogging Thingies
Yup. It's official. I'm bored. So I
Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross pollination effect.
Next: Select four new friends to add to the pollen count.
Wow. Seeing as I've not been tagged by any of these in a long time (I kinda feel like the friend who people don't openly admit they know or like), this will take some thought.
Ok, first off, Todd, just to be a pain, but also, because he makes 1 post a solstice.
Secondly, somebody from the Project Bowl-a-verse. This could even include Chocobo Bobo, just so long as there's some form of translation. And a Kirk pic, as dear silk is on vacation, and I don't feel like waiting.
Thirdly, Laura, as she seems to like these meme things.
And last, most importantly, my Dawn, my partner, my love, my one and only.
Anyone else who wants to, feel free. Please nobody feel smited. Just comment as so I know you've done it.
What were you doing 10 years ago?
Studying Vibrations in McLaughlin Hall, Fluids labs in Clark Hall Pub every Friday, teaching ArtSci frosh how to say "would you like fries with that", all at Queen's University, in Kingston, Ontario.
What were you doing 5 years ago?
Selling Pre-Paid Legal and ATM machines in Windsor and Detroit, preparing to move to Los Angeles. Bitter, single, and I think I drank too much and smoked too much herb.
What were you doing one year ago?
Still living in Ontario, I was preparing to finish film school (yeah I returned after all my high priced fancy engineer education), and had just met the love of my life face to face. To the day, I think I may have been at Niagara Falls.
What were you doing yesterday?
Seeing as it's just past midnight, I found out Smallville couldn't hold onto me as a day call, and as such, went crab fishing with Dawn and caught one, while I have been waiting for IATSE to call to give me another day call.
Five snacks you enjoy:
Ben & Jerry's Half Baked Ice Cream
Kosher Dill Pickles
Five songs I know all the words to:
Kyle's Mom is a Bitch - Eric Cartman
Edie (Ciao Baby) - The Cult
Keep on Rocking in the Free World - Neil Young
Like a Rolling Stone - Bob Dylan
Five things you would do if you had a million dollars:
1. Immediately take a vacation with Dawn to Lake Louise, staying in Chateau Lake Louise, for at least 1 week.
2. Afterwards, travel to the UK and meet Dawn's family.
3. Return, by a 24p, High Definition camera, and start shooting short films again as a Director.
4. Give a chunk to my parents, hell, they put up with my crap for 32 years.
5. Put a down payment on a house.
Five things you like doing:
1. Working. Yup, I'm nuts. But I enjoy working in film. Even if I'm just a lighting tech at the moment.
2. Spending time with Dawn.
3. Hiking in the mountains.
4. Watching films.
5. Writing films and stories.
Five bad habits
1. Being paranoid that people are out to get me. Sound weird? As some of my friends will attest, my online nick for the longest time was Mulder. And my best and longest running mate, Todd, can attest to it. Hell, I can quote the Mulderisms from the X-Files even now. See, I'm the central figure in an ongoing government plot to conceal the existence of extra-terrestrials on the planet. It's a global conspiracy, with players in the highest levels of power, whose effects stem to the lives of every man, woman and child on the planet. Of course no one believes me. I'm a annoyance to my superiors, a joke to my peers. They call me Spooky. Spooky Mulder. Whose sister was abducted by aliens when I was a child, and now I chase after little green men with a badge and a gun, shouting to the heavens or whoever will listen that the fix is in and the sky is falling. And when it hits, it's going to be the shit storm of all time.
2. Quoting film and television verbatim. Like above. Just don't get me started on the holy saga, being Star Wars. I'm just perfecting the Geonosian dialect, and can speak all the other alien languages. Yup, I'm a dork, in the worst way.
3. Under stress I anger easily, but bottle it up until I explode.
4. I over commit myself.
5. I don't get adequate rest, and overdo it on coffee and Red Bull.
Five things I would never wear again
1. Those gaudy fluorescent T-Shirts from the 80's.
2. A mullet. Ok, it's not wear, but I'd never have my hair that way again. Ok, so I would never ever have had or will have my hair that way. Though I had a mohawk during Frosh Week in my first and second year of university, spiked up with schillack, and with gentian violet purple dye on my skin. Funnily enough I WOULD do that again.
3. Anything with a Toronto logo on it.
4. Cheesey red ties (cuz in sales some think red influences sales... odd).
5. Speedo's. Damn my father, and former boss, for getting male lifeguards to wear the hideous things. Though the girls liked me in them for some reason.
Five favorite toys
1. My car. I've been through ups and downs with her, and I gotta give the auto it's props.
2. My 'pooter.
3. My camera.
4. My tools.
5. My baseball glove.
Now, with all that done, anxiously awaiting my tags responses.
neolithic pondered at 00:06 |
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Rant for a day of the week that ends in the letter "y"
And it's not work (or lack thereof... things for us day call film types tends to be slow after holiday weekends). Though the lack of work re-directed my attention to two things. One, my telephone, though calls from Cheekey and my mom filled a few gaps, but more importantly, the mail.
I don't know why, but I do like getting mail. Even though 99 44/100% of it is simply bills. But I am waiting for something positive. My library card. See, the week I moved into my current digs, we were internet challenged as the earliest practical date to have our cable installed was the following weekend. As such, for internet, instead of dropping loads of cash into a net cafe (again), Dawn and I went to the library. And, as the two of us read a fair bit, decided, lets get a library card, then we can take out more books, and if we don't like them as much, at least we didn't have to buy the things.
One snag. My photo ID, at the time, wasn't current to my address. Hence, the librarian said it would be mailed to us.
One month ago. I knew the post was slow, but this is seriously taking the piss.
Meh. Since I don't have a call today, maybe I can take the piss outta the librarians.
neolithic pondered at 12:48 |
Frailty, thy name is woman!
And we'll get to good old Bill
Oops. Wrong one. I mean this ol' Bill
Well, we'll get to them soon.
Anyhow, this story goes back to 2001. Michael Moore released his book, Stupid White Men, his indictment of the backwardness of the GOP, and it's "leader", Dubya. No, I'm not getting political. I would, however, like to make mention of one chapter where Mr. Moore spilled a universal truth.
WOMEN ARE THE STRONGER SEX. THEY ARE SUPERIOR TO MEN
It seems we men serve two functions that the fairer sex genuinely need us for. One, to provide sperm in the reproductive process, and secondly, to reach items on high shelves. Thanks to genetic research, our need in part one is becoming reduced, and thanks to the stepladder, our other purpose is being wiped out.
Hell, even two-time OscarTM winner Hilary Swank
is proving that women can act like men much better than men acting like women. Swank pulls off the male personna seamlessly in Boys Don't Cry, Julia Sweeney played Pat
A man could never bring the femininity to Pat to raise the gender question. Our best attempts?
a Male actor trying to keep steady work, playing a female character on a soap opera, and Mrs. Doubtfire
A man being an old british nanny to see his kids. Played by Dustin Hoffman and Robin Williams. Thespian geniuses. And you can still tell. Loads of gags in both films to keep the illusion up as long as needed in the story.
How does this relate to Shakespeare? Well, he was a mind ahead of his time. In his comedies, women typically dress as men, and bail the boys out of trouble to save the day. But where he was a genius writing his great works, he sucked ass casting it. Men typically played women. I would have thought someone of his genius would recognize the need to at least cast women as women. Does the phrase "selling out to authority" mean anything? Does his hypocrisy go only so far, or does it know no bounds. Men were typically cast as women. But the themes in his works, as it seems, didn't have much effect on influencing his audience. We are still mired in the gender and ethnic discrimination that plagued his day.
So why did ol' Bill write women so well? Did he know his works would stand the test of time? Was he bored? Or did he do it to woo women (yet another truth Robin Williams taught us in Dead Poet's Society - the purpose of language).
What do I think?
Shakespeare did it all for the nookie!
neolithic pondered at 07:08 |
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Another happy trip from the chemists
And more photos to share.
First off, Dawn and my first ever crabbing experience at Barnet Marine Park.
A lot of people were crabbing and fishing that day, though the view of the mountains is breathtaking.
Dawn hard at work keeping an eye on our line.
Me impatiently waiting out another 20 minute cast.
Me and the only crab of legal size and gender we caught that day.
This is one of many which were too small.
The second set is from our afternoon at Cypress Provincial Park.
Dawn at the foot of Yew Lake. Mountains and trees as far as the eyes can see.
The future home of the 2010 Winter Olympics Freestyle Skiing events.
And lastly, there is our trip last weekend to Shannon Falls and Stawamus Chief Provincial Parks, up in Squamish.
Dawn watching Shannon Falls.
Dawn not impressed about climbing to the peaks of Stawamus Chief.
Part of Olesen Creek, which runs down the mountain.
Another part of Olesen Creek.
Dawn's feeling the effects of climbing up another 550m to the peaks.
The ongoing cliff face we saw as we climbed up.
I don't know why, but this tree growing into the mountain rock just fascinated me.
And finally, at the top, the views were worth it.
Stay tuned, pics of Hell's Gate soon to come.
neolithic pondered at 15:05 |
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Yeah I need something to post
Until then, here's a gratuitous quiz.
|neolithic is a radioactive squirrel!!|
neolithic pondered at 00:02 |
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Copyright 2005 Jeff Vickers
The sun broke over the rugged mountain horizon, tinting the sky a strong straw orange. At the foot of the mountain, a black BMW pulls into a parking space, guarded only by a sign reading "RESERVED: JAMES HURST." A man gets out of the car, dressed sharply in a jacket and tie, brandishing a briefcase, shades, and a smirk. As he reaches the door to Hastings Genetic Research Inc., his attempt to open the door is a failure. He is perplexed for a moment, then drops his briefcase down and searches for his keys. The moment they emerge, a janitor reaches the front door with his mop and bucket, gets his keys out and opens the door.
"Forgot your keys again, Mr. Hurst?" remarked the janitor, with a light snicker under his breath. James simply picked up his briefcase, and awkwardly brushed past the janitor into the offices. He quickly glanced at an office directory just passed reception, and put his finger by the listing "JAMES HURST, OFFICE 301", and proceeded to his left and the elevator.
A loud, electronic bell sounds, and the elevator doors slide open. James gets in the elevator, alone, and presses three. As horrible elevator music plays, James stares out into space. The elevator melts into darkness, and James is now staring into nothingness. Two red dots grow in the darkness, until two glowing red eyes are staring back at him. Another electronic bell sounds, and James finds himself suddenly back in the elevator, the doors now opening.
James slowly makes his way off the lift, and gawks first left, then right. After a moment, he turns back left, and nearly runs over a young, attractive secretary. "Mr. Hurst, oh, you're in early. Can I get you a coffee?" Hearing the word coffee caused some cog to start in James' head. "Yeah, coffee would be great. I didn't sleep well last night. Alicia, isn't it?"
"Yes Mr. Hurst. It must have been an odd night. C'mon, let's get you that coffee." James promptly followed Alicia into the kitchenette, and there she quickly poured him a cup. "One sugar or two?"
"Black" requested James. No sooner after getting the coffee, James guzzled the whole cup in one long chug. Once he finished, the kitchenette faded away, being replace by a genetics laboratory. James looked around the lab, which looked to be wallpapered with biohazard logos. Another man, in a white lab coat, stands over a covered cadaver with a syringe filled with a liquid bearing a yellow hue.
"What are you doing?" shouted James towards the unknown man in the lab. Unphased, the unknown man pulled the cadaver's arm out from under the sheet, and injected the liquid into his arm. James ran up to him, grasping both the man's arms. The needle on the syringe broke off, just before all the liquid could be injected, and the nearly empty syringe dropped to the floor, and the liquid residue immediately started burning the floor.
The unknown man, however, stood upright, and glared deeply into James' eyes. "You... your kind... will not get in my way anymore." James could not look away from the fierce, piercing glare. He could even see his own face staring back at him, but something seemed odd. James moved his head, but the reflection staring back at him stood still. James became paralyzed with fear, as the unknown man's eyes became completely black, and red irises grew out from their centres.
Alicia shook James softly, and she whispered to him "hey, those experiments are getting to you, aren't they. Good thing it's Friday, you have the weekend coming up to recover." Alicia gave James a soft smile, and left the kitchenette.
James poured himself another coffee, and promptly made his way out of the kitchen, and down the hall. He reached office 301, which read "CLONING LAB". James promptly entered the lab, the same one where he saw the unknown man. James continued on to the washroom, where there was a large basin sink and antibacterial soap. James scrubbed hard, and then quickly leaned close to the mirror to check his face. In each eye, the still image of the unknown man reflected back. James took no notice, and proceeded back to the laboratory.
James reached the lone cadaver in the lab; he removed the clean white sheet from the head and torso, and folded it down towards its legs. James stared right into the face of the body. James' lifeless body was staring back at him. "See James, I told you that your kind would no longer get in my way." Standing over James is the unknown man, holding another syringe, with a green hue of liquid in it.
"Bottoms up" the man remarked, as he injected the green liquid.
neolithic pondered at 20:53 |
It's the most wonderful time of the year.
All across North America, parents are eagerly anticipating Tuesday. The day their kids go back to school. No more chants of "are we there yet" or "can we go for ice cream" (the fifth time of the day), just blissful quiet.
But why do kids start school on Tuesday? Well, it's that lovely last holiday for the summer. Labour Day. I never really understood the day. Growing up, my father almost always worked that day. I always worked that day. Ahh the joys of being employed in the service industry. Well, then sales. As such, I guess the importance is lost on me to an extent. Luckily, in the film world, with union requirements for double time and such on holiday shoot days, we don't work them much.
But why such an ado about a government holiday? Well, if history is repeating itself (and today we got a dose of that), each summer long weekend (the other two being Victoria Day or May Two-Four, and Canada Day weekend) the prices of gas has gone up. Usually a good 10 cents per litre.
Well it looks like we're in for another bang this weekend. Just to get ready for it, prices have gone from lows around 96.4 cents to 124.9 cents per litre, in just one day. Yeah, I'm posting this because I got burned with that at 12:30 AM, just fresh from 14 hours of sheer Smallville bliss.
But, to save this being a rant about prices, or a flame war about who pays more for gas as a whole, all the talk I've heard/read/watched today, I'm reminded about a certain letter I recieved in an email quite some time ago. This is the US version of the Canadian chain letter.
THE FOLLOWING WAS SENT BY AN ECONOMISTPlease do not try this. It doesn't work and will just irritate people sending this email around.
WITHIN THE FUEL INDUSTRY.
ANOTHER ECONOMICS PROFESSOR AT CAL REITERATED THE SAME LAST WEEK.
I THINK IT IS WORTH TRYING.
I got this from a reliable source & the web site listed is legit. We heard today from a man who is very savvy about the economy, namely, Clark Howard, and he says that the gas prices are going to start going up again and will be high this summer-$2.00 and up. We need to do whatever we can, and do it NOW!!!! Gasoline Prices: This makes more sense than the don't buy gas on a certain day routine that was going around last year re: Gasoline Prices. Whoever started this has a good point. We need to try an aggressive response. With the price of gasoline going up more each day, we consumers need to take ACTION! The only way we are going to see the price of gas come down is if we don't buy it. But, (as the gas companies know full well, and are counting on), that's not really a practical option since we all have come to rely on our cars. But we CAN have an impact on gas prices if we all act together.
Here's the idea: For the rest of this year, don't purchase gasoline from the two biggest companies (which now are one), namely EXXON and MOBIL. You see, if they are not selling, they should be inclined, (i.e., "forced"),to reduce their prices. And, because of their size, and hence market share, if they reduce their prices the other companies will too. (They would HAVE no choice!). Isn't that a "juicy" prospect? But to have an impact, we need to reach literally millions of users.
But it's do-able! I am sending this note to 42 people. If each of you send it to at least 10 more ...and those 10 send it to at least 10 more and so on, by the time the message reaches the sixth iteration, we will have reached over one million consumers. Acting together we can make a difference. If this makes sense to you, please pass this message on, or one you compose, to at least 10 more E-mail addresses. PLEASE HOLD OUT UNTIL THEY LOWER THEIR PRICES AND KEEP THEM DOWN! THIS CAN REALLY WORK! If you're not outraged, you're not paying attention!
Now with the stupidity clause in effect, we won't be able to boycott gas stations to reduce fuel prices. First off, prices are, in general, set by OPEC, not by individual stations (surprisingly enough, if you look at the prices, they are fairly similar in scale). Secondly, all those drivers who have credit cards for specific gas chains, paid for by their work, aren't going to pay for their own gas. Ever wonder why prices are lower in the evening? Like the long distance rates? Because gas companies know that business travel has to fill up during the day. Commercial business is their bread and butter. And here's the hint. Professional decision makers aren't going to change their minds because of a chain letter.
The bottom line is that we the little guy probably can't make a difference in that price. What we can do is be smart about things.
1. Don't drive everywhere. Get a bicycle. Ride public transit. Support clean energy initiatives. No, this won't bring gas back to 60 or less cents per litre, but at the end of the day, you'll spend less on transit, creating more savings, and to boot, you can save the environment too (well, a little piece of it).
2. Conserve your in home energy. Turn lights off. Limit shower time. Watch your thermostat. Don't crank your AC. Again, it probably won't affect the per unit rate, but you'll use less fuel, impacting your bottom line less.
3. Get regular oil changes. If you have to use your car regularly, the better kept it is, the less fuel you will burn per kilometer. Hence savings there. And a cleaner exhaust.
I could go on, but I'm assuming you can get the point. We can't get the prices down, no matter how clever the scheme may be. We have to take some responsibility and actually watch our dollars and cents, not bowing to the quick hard and fast ideology that pop culture instills in us this day and age.
neolithic pondered at 00:14 |