There ain't no cure for the summertime blues.There's something wrong with me. Actually there are several things wrong with me and most of those are mental. But I've been totally out of sorts lately. I think the heat has made me lazy and the lack of activity has put my brain into a low energy cycle. Anyways, as I was saying...last week...
So I drove up to frEdmonton, saw a squished beaver, and lo and behold all the rooms are booked because of the stupid Indy. Our hook-up up there works in a couple of hotels and assured us it wouldn't be a problem. As it turns out my parents stayed at their friends house and I stayed in a...camper. I now belong to the trailer park demographic. To be precise the camper was actually in a driveway and was really nice. Like a small hotel room bathed in fake wood paneling complete with a shower and a TV. As it turns out the guy who owns the camper is the same dude that pirated our (kp's) DVD unbeknownst to me until after the fact last November. As it turns out he's the brother in law of the president of Barungi. I met with the president and she told me how they did two shows over the span of a month for a Casino and ended up with like 85 g's. As is stands they apparently have 100 g's in the bank and no idea on how to spend it. I told them that if we had that kinda money that' we'd be in Europe. She was very interested in doing an exchange with us, in which we take turns traveling and performing back and forth. With workshops in between. Apparently they've done it before with Montreal and Toronto and they know how to get funding for it. The next day I went to their practice. I met their dancers, their core is about 10 senior dancers (about our ages) and about 20 little kids. One of their dancers knows and met us thru Ron, Dean, et al when we performed there like back in the day. Their AD was a younger guy named Jodi, the way he danced he kinda reminded me of a slightly shorter WiL. He's the same guy that contacted Kuya Rudy about coming to Edmonton. When he met me he asked me if my KP was the same KP associated with Likha then he got all star struck talking about Likha. And I think he kinda got a little intimidated with me watching (he said so) and proceeded to introduce me to the rest of the group as a memember of Likha who was there to observe and maybe help out. Yeah right. (Not Likha, on vacation, don't wan't to undermine the AD) apparently his dance knowledge doesn't include a lot of traditional stuff so his teaching is kinda like a traditional/jazz/interpretive dance fusion (with a bit of cheerleading lifts and pyramids). apparently Barungi has been slapped on the wrist before from visiting dance instructors from the Phils. Their previous AD was also named Soriano but she was apparently ousted from power. (OMG lots of politics in Edmonton). Honestly I couldn't make heads or tails of wtf they were dancing. Even their Tinkling was so f'd up that the rhythm was soooooooooo off. (they were dancing to some weird jazz music). When I got back to my trailer I got to watch a DVD of their last big show. It was more traditional and kinda looked like our kp stuff from about 5-7 years ago (didn't we leave a tape back there around that time?) I watched the first half and it looked kinda simplistic (their feet, hands, and expression were all off for the most part) and I couldn't tell the young ones from the seniors. I was supposed to be given a copy of the DVD, again it didn't happen. I became friends with the presidents son Shawn whom I partied with all weekend. He'll be sending me one, hopefully before our cast party.
As it turns out Barungi is going to be touring SF, San Diego, Disneyland for two weeks in August and wanted me to come with. If I didn't have a cotillion on the 6 and the Cast Party on the 7 then I would go. Maybe I can meet up with them in SF.
On my way driving home from Calgary I saw the car behind me squish a mama mountain goat.
Rhoel. The Paranoid Andriod.
BTW, I'm about half way thru Restuarant at the End of the Universe, and it's not as funny as Hitchiker's. Maybe it's a statement to my state of mind lately.
Can you smell what the Ro is cookin?I just drove 10 of 13 hours (my dad is a weak old soldier) from Edmonton to Calgary to Van. Three days ago it was a matter of 9 of 13. I'm delerious, tired and full of gossip and revelations. I've seen video, (thou for the second frickin time in two trips I was not ferbished with a copy. I'll fix that before I do anything for them. It mostly involves KP, Likha, Barungi of edmonton (at this point who gives a fuck how it's spelt) Karilagan dance society, a two week tour thru San Fran and LA, San Diego, Disney Land, and 100 thoursand dollars. If you're interested (only after sufficient interest is expressed and not before) I suppose I can write a bit on it after my 10 hour blink that starts...right...about...now...ish... Rhoel.
I going back to AlbertaI just found out that I'll be going to Calgary and Edmonton over the weekend. Be back Tuesdayish. Don't know if I'll have internet accessibility so I'll probably see you guys in about a week. Rhoel.
Paranoid AndroidIn the beginning mass media was a dude (or dudette) painting on a wall. A few sleeps later it's 24 hours a day live up to the second on location as it happens type of world. Anything of significance that happens anywhere on this planet, I'll know about it by the time I've done with my breakfast. How famous would say...Billy the Kid be if I lifted his image off of a surveillance camera after his first kill, produced a computer simulation of his likeness instantly distributed EVERYWHERE, tracked him down with a live satellite feed, drove out there in my armoured hummer at night with my starlite night vision dressed in kevlar body armour and apprehended him using pepper spray and some plastic zip restraints. History would ask "Billy the who?"
I don't remember where I was going with this...
So I finished reading the first book of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. Funniest damn book I've read in a very long time. I'm a movie junky. It takes a pretty crappy movie for me not to have in some way enjoyed myself. I also like reading books, again one of my favorite things is to read a really bad novel every once in a while. I haven't read all the classics, I mean I own books like Mobey Dick but I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. Call me Ishmail. Probably the most famous opening line in literature. That's as far as I've gotten with that book. Like when someone tries to impress me by quoting Chaucer or something, I don't know what you're talking about so how is that supposed to impress me? I also love books that have become movies. Some of my favorite books have become movies. Usually the movie sucks ass and somehow taints the book. Sometimes a movie somehow captures the essence of the book (I find this happening more frequently now a days, better screen writers perhaps). Most of the time I'll see the movie first and then hunt for the book like in a used book store that has a beat up copy of book 3 in the series that he'll let you have for 15 bucks. I'd rather see the movie first anyways to enjoy both, instead of enjoying a book then dreading the movie afterwards. Like eating all the crappy bits on your plate before finishing off the good stuff.
I was lucky enough to find a new hard cover compilation of all the Hitchhiker books (with a bonus new short storey) for like 15 bucks (with discount) at Blackbond books. I've never so enjoyed every page of a book before. I only read 2-3 pages per sitting so I could savour and enjoy every joke and avoid joke overload in the process. And I'm glad to say that the movie was just as enjoyable but I'm still glad I read the book after. I wanna watch the movie again. Then in a few days I'll read book two. Restaurant at the End of the Universe. Stay tuned.
Rhoel.
-BTW paranoid android was a line from the Book 'Hitchhikers' that was used as a title for a song and album from Radiohead. If you told me that I probably would have been impressed.
-Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean that someone isn't following me.-
Third eye blind.Insane. Information overload. I'm away from the computer for a few days and suddenly there's a couple of hours worth of blog entries to catch up on. It's like a monumental task I don't want to start at this particular moment.
Whenever I chill with my youngest brother and his wife they always seem to have the same circus of ppl partying around them. They're all interesting and fun ppl and very divergent in personalities. One of the faces in the crowd is this dude Cristo.
Cristo is among other things a psychic.
When I was in school way back, you know one of those times between majors, I had taken a few semesters of philosophy. I don't remember much of what I learned in school but I remember this one discussion we had about predetermination vs free will, essentially what it comes down to is that one can't have both. Either (god) or something greater has a pre written plan for you and you are merely an actor performing a script, or you are a creature of free will makein your own decisions and essentially write your own destiny. This is a somewhat simplistic view of the sides to the discussion but what it kept coming back to was that you can't have both. I think one of the reasons I remember this discussion is that I do believe in both, I don't know how logical that is but on one hand I believe there is a grand design for my life that I as yet do not understand or see, contol is an illusion, (may be echoes of a catholic upbringing as is the disclaimer that God helps those that helps themselves) and on the other hand I believe that my future is yet to be determined and that I have control of my life. I believe control is not an illusion. I have faith that I will be placed exactly where I need to be and what I do when I arrive is ultimately up to me.
Now if someone has the ability to tell me my future...do I want to know?
I'm sure that a lot of what a psychic says involves a lot of psychology, a lot of insight into human behaviour, a lot of telling ppl what they want to hear, a lot of vague phrases that can be interpreted this way or that. But I've seen enough to believe that there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,than are dreamt of in your (my) philosophy.
I often relate my life as a really bad novel, or as a B-rated (lately very G-rated) movie of which I am the protagonist (who on occasion does antogonistic things). When I'm reading a book do I go and skip ahead or read the ending? No. When I go to the theatre I actually avoid watching the movie clips and avoid discussions about movies I haven't seen yet because when I step into that theatre I want no expectations. I just want the experience that was intended by the director or writer...of in this case my bad novel or B-movie.
Rhoel.
-I don't mind G-rated movies as long as there's a lot of sex and violence-Elvira, mistress of the dark.
Happy Canada Day!!!Or to Manok, Happy Canook Day!!!
I was talkin to a friend back east in NJ, a former Torontonian, mentioning how I was thinking of going to TO for the holidays and was thinking of skipping down to NY while I'm out that way. She said, "For Canada day? Like tomorrow?" I'm like, Canada day isn't a holiday, it's just a day off. She's like,"I know right?". Essentially we launched into this comparitive Canadiana/Americana view on the holidays. Maybe it's just my familly but Canada Day isn't really a big deal. I mean the fireworks at Canada Place are so lame that they didn't even bother this year. My first year down in Seattle I woke up on the 4th to a giant loud ass bbq being thrown by the two sisters that lived upstairs. I think I was pretty much drunk by around 4-5, but I don't know exactly when because I was drunk. Before I know it I'm in the back of a car with like 4 hotties I don't even know fighting our way to Lake Washington for the celebration. It was like trying to get down town durring the Molson Indy or the Symphany of Fire. Luckly the two sisters had a realitive that had a food shop down on pier whatever, and we had VIP on the pier and spent the afternon drinking at "The Happy Hooker". It was crazy. 100m down the beach there's a giant big top where a black tie affair is in full swing with jazz band incluse. 100 m the other way is a gathering of red necks complete with mulleted childrens. Over the lake the Blue Angels are doing their thing while other various military fighter planes are doing mach 1 fly by's at Sea Level. As the evening fades to black I find myself snuggling with one of the sisters' hot Spanish friends listening to her talk like a bad rap video pretending not to be staring at her...shirt. And then the specticle begins. Crazy fireworks that last a really really long time. Soon we're home where the real drinking begins. After me recantation Celeste starts talking about american thanks giving... Sometimes being Canadian can be very non-thrilling.
So today I helped my brother move, drank some drinks, and now have kept up my streak of consecutive blog days to 8. I had planned to resume my erratic bloginess but it looks like I've generated enough mommentum to push forward thru rain sleet and drunkness. BTW,of the many things one should not do while under the influence, blogging and posting online should be umong them. For instence last night (this early morning) I had planned to finish off my week of blogging by talking about something that wouldn't require much thought because I was drunk, tired, and drunk. I planned to blog about how much I hate pets, and ended up talking about religion. How the fluck does that happen???
I had these two friends who were models and they had this rule that if they couldn't physically open something with their own hands then they couldn't eat it. It's surprising how tough it is for two skinny flip girls to open a bag of chips, wrestling and swearing at this now pulverised bag for like twenty minutes before they give up. I once made the mistake of taking it out of their hands and opening it for them only to have them turn on me like Brutis on Ceasar. I think I should invent some elaborate way to turn on the computer so if I'm too inebriated to turn it on then I can't use it.
Rhoel.
P.S. Pets smell. (right Lora?) To be continued...
On the seventh day.Today is the last of my week of writing. I for the third time invoke the Tomorrow isn't till after I sleep clause. Time is the fire in which we burn. Somewhere on this earth tomorrow is today, conversly yesterday is today. I actually believe time is a man made entity and has no real worth to the natural way of things. Another man made thing is religion.
I am in no way a religious man. As it is right now I do not believe in god. I was baptisd and raise as a Roman Cathlic. I pray every night out of habit, but I don't go to church. I believe in reincarnation (life after death) but don't believe in heaven or hell. I believe my dearly departed to be in a better place than which they came only because I feel peace when I think of them. I feel (and have been told) that I have a very old soul, and at times I dream of many lives past. I have memories and experiences that do not relate to my current life. I remember experienceing very ordinary and unconsequential things. When I sleep I sometimes see what I percieve is a window and watch things thru it of ppl and things that are of no consequence to me. I have been told that these things are out of body experiences. Of which I believe. I've been told of these things by my mother, probably the most religious person I've known.
I believe myself a very spiritual man. I believe that everything not explainable by science can be explained by the powers of an individuals inner strength.
On the Seventh day I helped my brother move all day. He bought a house really close to VJ's house. If you were to stand on VJ's porch, the neighbor to his right, the house behind the one across the street from this, is Roque's new house. The view from his front porch is a cemetary. Congrats to my brother for hustling enough to provide a nice home for his young familly.
On the 8th and 9th day I will also help move shite that isn't even mine. I am reminded on how much I hate moving.
Rhoel.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
--From Hamlet (I, v, 166-167)
