Stirring Up the Day

The words just won’t come out sometimes.  The whole world is happening around me, happening to me, and I just don’t have anything to say about it.  It’s sounds like a depressing thought, but it’s not really.  It just is.

I keep thinking I need to top up on my spirituality, but whenever the cross roads come, I know I’m already there.  It’s like it’s living somewhere below the surface, out of sight, out of mind, not really bothering with me until needed.  I keep thinking that I need to write it all down, but that’s not needed either.

There remains a steady stream of stirrings in my social life… my love life.  I have no idea where anything’s going.  I’m not really at the wheel, cuz there ain’t no wheel.  I’m a leaf floating on a raging river and all I can do is ride.  There’s no destination, no side trips, no rest stops.  There’s only the constant forward motion.  Wouldn’t have it any other way.

I have $20 million worth of intellectual property ready for the making.  Ain’t worth a fuck until someone comes along to buy it.  All I can do is hang in there… keep at it, keep at it and create more.  And yet, creating more has me feeling kind of cheap, kind of like a whore.  I’ve been creating constantly for a year and a half, new projects, polished projects, projects with shelf lives, and projects with market potential.  From my mind to the page.  No one can do it quite like I can do it.  Just gotta do a better job getting it all to market I guess.

So here I am.  Saturday morning.  Got a whole day ahead of me.  What shall become of it?

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Rousing Speech Fuels Highwaymen

Media Release

For Immediate Release

ROUSING SPEECH FUELS HIGHWAYMEN

October 29, 2010 (Yellowhead, Sk) After not even showing up for their previous game, Yellowhead Highwaymen owner/coach, Captain Jarrett Rusnak concluded that a lack of intensity has been the root cause of his team’s troubles.  “I was hanging out with some guys at Joe’s Condoms, Vacuum Cleaners and Pizza last week and was shocked, shocked I tell you, to learn how much football wisdom our collective fan base possesses,” began Rusnak.  “I can’t believe we’ve been here three years and never once bothered to consult our fans on the most important football decisions affecting this team.”

“We need to fire the coach,” said Merv Flerman, a plumber and unnoted football expert. “That’ll teach the players to stop being so dumb!”

“I think we should platoon our running backs with someone who’s good,” said Edward Verman, a pan handler and one time high school football player.

Mo Charles, a gas stationed attendant, mentioned that the team should keep its current coaching staff, except try harder to get wins.  “And also they should bring back the 1960s.”

After firing, then rehiring himself, buying a better running back at Wal-Mart, dropping acid then having tons of unprotected sex with a bunch of hippy chicks, Rusnak entered the locker room and roused his players with a speech crafted by the finest wordsmyths discount coupons at KFC could ever buy.

“Life is a game of inches,” Rusnak began.  “And so is my big fat Romanian cock!  Win the game or you’ll feel me slapping you across the jaw with it!”

The Highwaymen remain 18 points up on The Mighty Drama Quins.  The team also announced that proceeds from Sunday’s 50/50 draw will benefit literacy and grammar programs across the province.

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The Unauthorized Bio of Socksey

It is clear that ‘Socksey’ did not exist before 1991, at least not THIS Socksey.  There are records however dating back to 1692 of a woman who simply vanished into thin air during the Salem witch trials.

Socksey Walcott arrived to the tiny Puritan village of Salem, Massachusetts in 1691 and soon after introduced the population to something known as cunnilingus.  In no time, the village was taken up in some sort of craze.  Young women took to dancing in the forest naked and men suddenly found themselves smiling all the time, NOT thinking about their daily chores.

Socksey Walcott was called before the court, and charged with witchcraft, setting off a spree of accusations and mayhem.  Upon seeing the hangman’s noose, she realized her welcome was about worn out.  Pulling out the doubling cube, she made a deal with the dice gods and vanished into thin air.

She awoke in a place somewhat resembling a tacky 1970s porn set, with fake red leather walls, and a large velvet Elvis covering the ceiling.  Glen Beck was eating babies and some guy named Vic was standing in front of the bathroom mirror in his underwear singing show tunes while waxing his belly.  “What am I doing here?” cried Socksey.  “I made a deal with the dice gods!”

“Those were FIBS dice gods,” said Vic.  “We’re stuck here for eternity baby!”

Glen Beck shot Socksey a sympathetic look and whispered, “I’ve only been here two weeks and look at me now.  I used to be a nice guy.”

Suddenly a monkey swept in, grabbed Socksey by the hand, and jumped out the 19th story window.  “You’re going to kill us!” screamed Socksey.

“I’m a monkey,” said the monkey, “I don’t speak english.”

Socksey and the monkey hit the ground so hard, they landed smack in the middle of 1991.  She’s been incognito ever since.

42 Hours A Day

I have decided that henceforth, days shall be 42 hours long and weeks shall be 4 days long.

You’re now all welcome to sleep when you’re tired, eat when you’re hungry, work when you’re scheduled, and play when you’re not.  There’s no pressure anymore and we can all just take our ‘time’ and chill for a bit.  There’s plenty of time to get the day’s shit done.

The idea was inspired by jet lag.  Most people don’t care for it.  Me?  I consider it a dear friend.  I’ve been to Europe a few times and a 9 hour time zone difference really messes with my internal clock.

I’m sitting awake with a grumbly tummy.  The clock on the wall says 3am and my body swears it’s more like 4pm while the digits on my laptop say it’s yesterday at 6pm (the time back home).  A look out the window shows a full moon.  My brain can’t wrap my head around it.  Something inside me fractures.

For the first time in my life, time became completely meaningless.  Not even the days of the week meant something.  It was a truly liberating experience.  When was the last time you failed to feel the authoritative presence of ‘time’ in your life?

Can you imagine the world running on a 42 hour clock?  Can you?  How would that change things for you?  Is it even possible to live on a 42 hour clock in a 24 hour world?

I’m gonna try.  I’ve even named the four new days of the week.  Today is called ‘Prime’.  Tomorrow is ‘Lefty’.  The third day is ‘Margin’ and the weekend shall be called ‘Ham Salad’.

I double dog triple dare you to give it a whirl.  Let me know how it works out for you and I’ll do the same.

Me & Jazzy… Writtin’ Up A Storm

Jazzy called me last night and we talked for half an hour about story design.  She’s been mapping out a time travel story about two tweenaged girls stuck in the past and she’s really excited about it.  At the same time I’m designing my own story for ‘Highwaymen’ episode two.

She’s got great big ideas for her story and I’ve been giving her advice based on what I’ve read and learned about story design myself.  She asks really great questions, and I can tell that she’s been taking my advice to heart because she builds on it.  She even told me that she wants to research the Salem Witch trials so she can learn more about where her story may go.  My little girl wants to do research for her story!

She’s also in the midst of creating her two main characters and I’ve been telling her about my efforts to create a new character in ‘Highwaymen’ named Jude.  I sent Jazzy some biographical information that I began sketching out, and how I plan to write a more thorough bio after that.  Next I plan to put her in a scene with Harry and see what happens.  Characters have a way of taking over a scene once you turn them loose.  Jazzy thought that was funny because she’s experienced the same thing with her own characters in other stories she wrote.

I keep telling her how proud I am of her.  We share the same passion and it helps me to feel close to her when we live two provinces apart.  Not only that, but she’s already a hellova good writer!

Coaching From the Couch

It’s 9:30pm on a Saturday night in Regina.  The Riders just lost badly to Deadmonton and despite having second place and a home playoff game sewn up, people are acting like the apocalypse has arrived.  Fans in this province bug me because they have no sense of perspective when it comes to assessing what kind of team we have.

The Saskatchewan Roughriders have been to two of the last three Grey Cups, winning both times (the 2nd for about 30 seconds).  We’re one of the winningest teams over that three year span.  We’ve done it with five different quarterbacks, two head coaches, off field drama, 17 broken tibulas and tons of personnel changes.  It wasn’t that long ago that home playoff games and winning seasons were merely a fantasy, season after season, after season.

We’ve lost games we should have won this season, including the last three games in a row.  So has 11-5 Calgary (who’s 2-4 over their last six games).  So has 11-5 Montreal (who just got trounced 40-3 by Hamilton).  And every bottom feeder in the league has beaten one of the three dominant teams this season.  I’d rather be cheering for the 9-7 Saskatchewan Roughriders than the BC Lions, or Edmonton Eskishmoes, or the Winnipeg Blowbombers.  We remain a threat to play in the Grey Cup and win this year.  We’re in good hands with our current coaches and players.

How about we just let them do what they do best?  I doubt very much our advice from the comfort of our couches is all that useful.

Highwaymen Forfeit Game

Media Release

For Immediate Release

HIGHWAYMEN FORFEIT GAME DUE TO PLANE CRASH

Oct 22, 2010 (Yellowhead, Sk) The Yellowhead Highwaymen were forced to forfeit their recent away game after their plane crashed over the Saskatchewan Alps.  “The Flux Capacitor blew on the cigarette lighter in the cockpit and next thing you know… all the coffee makers were offline,” began Highwaymen Owner/Coach, Captain Jarrett Rusnak.  “It was chaos and then the plane’s engines stalled and I was like, ‘I totally want to have sex with a hot chick in the bathroom before the plane goes down.’”

The plane made an emergency landing in a field near Saskatoon.  Due to the uncertainty of the situation, Highwaymen coaches and players were forced to eat some of their fellow passengers.  “Well, we kind of felt bad about that, but we didn’t have time to grab something in the restaurant before we left,” said Rusnak.  “Then a bunch of people from Saskatoon showed up to rescue us, and they started talking about their goddamed river, and how pretty their city is, and how they’re so much better than everyone else… and so we ate them too.”

All together, three teams of rescue personnel were eaten before Highwaymen coaches and players were eventually coaxed out of the plane with tickets to some stupid Ukrainian dancing thing.

The Highwaymen remain hopelessly out of playoff contention but have invited league leaders to the team’s annual fundraising dinner to…. ‘speak’ at the event.

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Wal-Mart Theology

My dreams were full of feminist theologian scholars musing about Islam, Judaism, and Christianity.  It is clear the bible was written by men, for men.  Look at the 10 commandments; “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife.”   At best, the perspectives of women were simply overlooked.  At worst, the status of women in the bible was intentionally buried over the centuries.

In the best light biblical women are portrayed as meek, submissive, obedient, and pure.  At worst they are portrayed as unclean, seductive whores.  Not much of a middle ground.  There aren’t really any heroines in the bible who take action and git ‘er done.  Not like the men do anyway.

In contemporary times, there has been a movement afoot to uncover role models that modern women can relate to.  It turns out that the Torah in its original language is loaded with positive stories of women.  Even God is referred to as both male and female at various times.  The Christian gospel shows Jesus to be very progressive towards the status of women.  The Qur’an is probably the most progressive of all religious texts towards the status of women.

In all cases, it has been social/political traditions that has altered or cast the meanings of these writings towards a patriarchal slant.  Tradition is a motherfucker to overcome however.  While some of these feminist theologians advocate for a fresh look at these texts, others have abandoned them altogether.  Even the patriarchs within these religions can’t agree on the interpretations of the readings.

So what do we have?  A mass of humanity working for and against itself searching for ‘the ultimate truth’.  Add enough scholars and theologians to the mix and you can twist meanings out of anything to suit your point of view until it all becomes a completely meaningless Wal-Mart of theology.  Go shopping for whatever you need to support your point of view, to bring hope to the hopeless, to find meaning in the mysteries, to inspire the faithless, to begin wars, to murder innocents, and to marginalize the powerless.

We turned God into a war criminal… and a saviour… and I just can’t make sense of any of it.

Above Average

I’m sitting here thinking of things to write, and the only thing coming up is, “What am I doing?”

Someone told me recently that they think I lead an interesting life.  If you read my blog regularly you’ll see it has its ups and downs, but generally, it is pretty interesting.  I do love my life.  But there’s lots of uneventful bits to it as well.  I don’t write about those bits… I mean who wants to read that, if I don’t even want to write about it?

In my blog I tend to focus on the interesting stuff.  In my everyday mind, I tend to concern myself with the uninteresting stuff.  I’m not one to dwell on my upside (even though I write about it).  Ironic.

In everyday life I spend a lot of time trying to make myself be productive.  It doesn’t come to me naturally.  In my natural habitat, I’d be hanging out on my couch, in my underwear, and feeling completely shitty about myself.  Fortunately I don’t do that very often (I wear pants), but I find other things to waste my time on.  Creeping on facebook, reading the news, and playing games all take up a share of my day.

I make deals with myself.  If I can accomplish the goals I set for a given day, anything else I do (or don’t do) is fair game.  I even try and be modest with my goals so as to not disappoint myself.  These are the things I have some control over.

There’s a lot more in my life that I have no control over.  I can’t go to Wal-Mart and meet the girl of my dreams in the lifestyle bin (or better yet, get 2 for the price of 1).  I can’t make people do things that would please me.  I can’t get others off my mind. I can’t green light my projects.

These are things I simply have to leave myself open to.  Put myself out there, do what I do, and trust that things will unfold as they will.  As I look back on the last year of my life, I have to admit the formula has been pretty successful so far.  Yet today, I can only think about the pieces that are missing.

What am I doing?

I have really great people in my life.  I’m in a pretty good place.  I have the freedom to pursue interesting things.  I have my health.  I can make people laugh.  I’ve got a lot going for me.

I’ve come to know that life isn’t one thing or another.  It’s everything.  It’s all the bad AND all the good.  Can’t have one without the other.  Can’t appreciate one, without the other.  And sometimes the best things in life remain a mystery.

Fuck it.  I’m going to go out and have myself a perfectly average day!

Duets, Eyeballs & Ron’s 50th

It was weird, touching someone else’s eyeballs, but oddly, kind of familiar.  It was just like all those times of looking in the mirror, taking out my own contacts, except the face was different (so were the eyeballs).  It was 3am and that’s how my evening ended.

Ron’s 50th birthday reminded me of the time Shawn and I teased him on his 40th.  I then got kind of down about the passage of time.  However, I soon washed away the doldrums by taking the mic and singing ‘Just A Gigolo’ under the influence of several beers at the Karaoke booth.  I even did a David Lee Roth jump off the stage.  The DJ bought me a shooter for that one.

I didn’t expect much from the evening.  A mass of humanity from all walks of Ron’s life were invited and I wouldn’t know many people.  I figured I’d stay, hang out for a bit with Shawn & Cheryl then call it a night.  Brad and his wife Beth showed up and next thing you know, we took over the dance floor.  Later Brad and I did a duet of ‘Islands in the Stream’ (I sang Dolly’s part falsetto).

Angie organized the whole thing and with all these random guys calling her in the week leading up to it, Ron seriously thought she was about to leave him.  He had no idea that something was afoot.  When he walked into the hall, 70 people shouted “surprise!”  I think he was actually more relieved that Angie wasn’t ditching him for another man.  What a birthday present!

Ron made his rounds, completely overwhelmed by all the people who showed up.  He spent a bit of time with us, but he spent even more time with faces he hadn’t seen in years.  It was a good sight to see.

Shawn, Cheryl, Brad, Beth and I wound up back at Shawn’s house playing cards.  He kept trying to tweak my nipple after Beth wouldn’t let him tweak hers.  I guess that’s what friends are for.  Later, Cheryl was too drunk to take her contacts out, so I did that for her.

A half hour later I was home marvelling at how pleased I was to have my expectations for the evening dashed so well.