Last Post for 2008

I'll briefly comment on senate appointments and then move along. I have heard and read people criticizing Stephen Harper's appointments of senators as if it's another way to manipulate the government. The patronage appointments of the senate are nothing new and have been happening since the beginning of the senate. Whether you like it or not, Stephen Harper does have the right to appoint senators, something he has not done while in office, regardless of there being more important issues to deal with. Harper is also trying to change the senate to be an elected one, which is truly a great improvement from the status quo in existence. Am I in favour of this plan? Actually, no. I'd prefer to see the red chamber abolished, unless there were to be some sort of massive constitutional shakeup in how the country is run. Right now, the senate is irrelevant. I suggest we do away with it, leave things up to parliament and save some cash. It's a valuable spending cut. Let's do it when we get rid of the monarchy and let the GG's house be converted into condos (or a homeless shelter, or a bingo hall as Preston Manning wanted to do to Stornoway, until he actually got a chance to live there and decided it wasn't so bad after all.)

I commented more than I thought I would. Sorry.

I just wanted to wish any readers out there, if there are any, a happy new year. I'll be candid and say 2008 was less than stellar for me and a lot of people. But 2009 is a new year. Don't be resigned to accepting next year as a bad year because the papers say so. For those of you who had a good 2008, I hope your success continues.

For me, this week has been great. A friend from Vancouver Island is visiting and we are having wonderful times. Tomorrow I shall ring in the new year at a party put together by my good friend Clara Blackwood (who is not from Vancouver Island).

Good luck to all.

Poetry about Las Vegas and (unfortunately) my favourite basketball team

Las Vegas had a blizzard yesterday.
One local joked hell had finally frozen over.
They say with snow powdering its black glass pyramid,
the Luxor looked like an ash mountain.
Snow weighed down on all the palms like a curse from Jesus.
I change channels
where thunder in Oklahoma can look good
when dinosaurs from Canada play against it.
The Thunder from Oklahoma
is the worst the world's ever seen, they say.
Yet tonight it brings a second Cretaceous destruction.
Maybe the dinosaurs will go home and win the lottery again
and not blow their winnings this time.

Marnie Stern, I'm Blown Away

I rarely, if ever at all, write about music on this blog. I often write about arts and literature, but not music. However, I'm a huge music fan.

However, over the last couple of years I've been listening to older music. I've been listening to and discovering older jazz music, classic rock records and classic metal records. The "mainstream" indie scene got boring for me. The stuff that was being presented as new and groundbreaking by the pretentious music experts wasn't that new and exciting. At the beginning of the decade I was excited by ambient or classical influenced bands like Sigur Ros, Mum and Apocalyptica, as well as a few garage-rock sounding bands like The White Stripes, Death From Above, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And then, meh.

Late this year an album was released entitled, a really long title is coming, This Is It And I Am It And You Are It And So Is That And He Is It And She Is It And It Is It And That Is That. It is the second album by Marnie Stern.

In the early 90s when grunge came along, a lot changed in rock, much of it for the better. However, one could argue something was missing, with a few exceptions as always, with the "alternative" scene and the "indie" scene. That thing was musicianship. Lyrics and catchy tunes displaced musicianship, mainly the long-winding guitar solo.

Stern's album displays her virtuoso guitar playing and tapping technique in a way never displayed by the likes of Eddie Van Halen, Yngwie Malmsteen or any of the other 80s shredders. She manages to have poppy melodies included in the difficult to play rhythms, with songs like Shea Stadium and Transformer, as well as rockier songs like The Crippled Jazzer. No songs are longer than 4:20 (I'm guessing a coincidence). She doesn't get into the solo.

Years ago, I was one of the kids who walked around the halls in school either carrying a guitar or a guitar magazine. Guitar magazines that had a couple of free song tabs in them were quite popular. I remember there was one copy of Guitar World discussing women guitarists and why there were so few of them. It also discussed how hard it was for women to break into the testosterone-dominating hard rock scene in the 80s. How ironic would it be if a solo-performing female is the next "guitar hero" (no pun intended) in 2008, the one to seriously bring the guitar back to rock?

Coalition Governments Are a Part of Democracy

We'll find out in the next several months if we'll see the first coalition government in Canada in around 90 years.

But isn't it funny how many of those complaining about the unfairness of a Liberal government majority with less than 50 per cent of the vote are now crying the coalition is a threat to democracy? That being said, if there were an NDP led minority about to be toppled by a Harper-led coalition, I'd love to see if Now Magazine issues a front-page story as to why the coalition is suddenly a threat to democracy. Whether or not it was right to prorogue parliament is all based on what part of the political spectrum you are on.

As one who believes in abolishing the monarchy, I have a serious problem with an unelected person, Michaelle Jean, deciding who should be Prime Minister. This is the issue more people should be talking about. People shouldn't have to blindly accept they are subjects of another country's queen.

If people think the coalition government is a threat to democracy, remember you are not in America. Much like the rest of the western world (not named America) we have a parliamentary democracy. In European countries, especially ones like Italy and Austria with proportional representation, coalitions are a norm. Coalition governments are a reality in a parliamentary system, though we've rarely seen them here.

And if you support proportional representation and hate the idea of a coalition, it's time to rethink your stance

My take on the Governor General Awards poetry controversy

A lot has been made about Jacob Scheier winning the Governor General's Literary Award for best Canadian poetry book of 2008 with More to Keep Us Warm.

I do have issues with Di Brandt being a judge in a situation where she'd been of assistance to Scheier's fabulous book. It doesn't matter how objective Brandt is. I have no idea as to the influence she had on the jury. I can give her the benefit of the doubt, but in this situation, the doubt is there. This is a conflict of interest. We'll never know, as outsiders of the jury, what influence is there.

First of all, this is Canada, a relatively small country. It is very rare an award-eligible writer would have absolutely no connection with a very good writer who's seen as an eligible judge. We're talking about poetry, a small literary genre in a small country. Everybody in that scene eventually knows everybody.

I feel badly for Mr. Scheier. I feel people can make the arguments other poets were deserving, but shouldn't make the argument Scheier's More to Keep Us Warm was not deserving. (I'll qualify this and say I liked Sachiko Murakami's The Invisibility Exhibit the most.) It is a deserving book. I just wonder if people will dismiss him as an illegitimate winner. I feel bad as he is a first-time winner with his first book and this was supposed to be one of the greatest moments in his life, and it's racked by controversy. One of two things will happen. The expectations will be so much for his next book and he'll get the sophomore jinx or he, with his so-called "illegitimate victory," will be motivated to blow all away with his next book, proving the controversy a blessing in disguise. I'm hoping for the latter as he does not deserve the controversy surrounding this, for he is a fantastic writer.

The whole Carleton thing

So I have been steaming mad over the last two days at the Carleton University Student Association's decision to no longer support their annual Shinerama fundraiser for Cystic Fibrosis.

The reasoning was ignorantly claimed the disease is not inclusive enough. CUSA ignorantly claims the disease only affects white men. Seeing as many sufferers don't survive into their 20's, this already disproves that claim. People who are of other "races" such as South Asian, Arabian and South American descent have been known to be affected. In Canada we've seen a less common affliction among Natives, those of southern African and eastern Asian descent afflicted by this disease. This is all stated by the Canadian Cystic Fibrosis Foundation's CEO Cathleen Morrison. Of course, in Canada there is a growing number of those with mixed ancestries.

I've only met three or four people in my life afflicted with this horrific disease. They were all women. According to Morrison, the percentage of men to women affected by the disease is about equal, with women succumbing to it more quickly. Being diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis, a disease affecting the lungs and digestive system, generally leads to a death sentence. One diagnosed is extremely lucky to live into their 40s.

With that being considered, CUSA should be ashamed of trying to be politically correct, rather than taking human life into consideration. Perhaps when the members of CUSA who made this ill-informed decision hit 40 (and I have yet to hit 30), they will be ashamed of themselves. I hope they are. They are an embarrassment to all who call themselves liberal-minded.

Hey, I'm updating!

I know I've been completely lazy updating the blog.

Tomorrow night (or now tonight) Rochdale Rhymes and Readings happens at the Regal Beagle, 335 Bloor St. W. with THREE poets, Mike Schram, Michael Fraser and Cathy Petch as well as an open mic. Cover is pass the hat.

I'll update a couple of other events I'm involved with. I'm guest hosting Cryptic Chatter on Nov. 7 with features Joe Dewar and Kate Marshall-Flaherty. It happens at the Renaissance Cafe, one-and-a-half blocks west of Woodbine Station at 8 p.m. There is an open mic as well. Cover is $5.

As well, I am reading (I'm not totally sure of who else) at Oral Stage Nov. 10. It happens at Paddy's Playhouse, at 161 Gerrard St. E. in the gaybourhood.

The CANADIAN election debate

I watched the Canadian election debate tonight. My cable got cut off some time ago and I haven't hooked it back up since. I don't know if I told the story of it getting cut off, but it was re-hooked up in 2006 after I complained about my Internet being disconnected and I never really complained about that. A couple of months ago Rogers caught up with me.

Anyway, I'd rather watch the Canadian debate then a debate featuring non-leadership candidates in someone else's country. Earlier I thought I was going to vote for the Green Party in protest of them being denied a spot in the debate, but outrage of many Canadians won and Elizabeth May was in the debate. I myself sent an angry letter to Olivia Chow (my MP) saying I would refuse to vote for the NDP because of their stance. During this campaign I was disappointed as there was no one truly worth voting for. I'm still not sure there is someone worth voting for. I still may vote for the Greens or a fringe party in protest. However, Jack Layton, who is mistaken if he thinks he will be Prime Minister, clearly won the debate to me. He was constantly hitting on Harper, but offering solutions, whereas Dion didn't seem as such, whereas May seemed often invisible, regardless of reports she's a star in the making. Layton's comment about the arts and those in the arts not being able to afford arts lessons for their kids was great, as was his comment about Harper's platform being under his vest. I really liked his comment toward the end about the winner always being locked by the boardrooms, as if he was offering change.

Layton deserves a chance. He's the best leader out there, but he doesn't have a chance of winning. No chance at all. Might I vote for him? His wife is my incumbent, so even a strategic vote is worthwhile if I were one for that. I like Layton quite a bit right now, though I am lukewarm overall to all candidates.

Upcoming Rochdale Rhymes and Readings

On Oct. 5 Phoebe Tsang and Valentino Assenza will feature at Rochdale Rhymes and Readings at the Regal Beagle, 335 Bloor St. W. I'm excited as both are fantastic writers. Phoebe Tsang is a page poet, but often commits herself to reading her poetry from memory. Her work is quite impressive and worth listening to live. Valentino Assenza is often considered a spoken word poet, but has published three chapbooks, and in my opinion, is more of a page poet than a performance poet when in comparison to many of the spoken word poets in Toronto. He's performed very well on the spoken word/slam scene. Personally, I think it's because the poetry he brings is so good. He needs not to yell, speak fast, etc. Audiences just connect with him and his honesty.

Down

I've been down lately. Perhaps it's because of money. Perhaps it's because I find myself working in a job where most people are several years younger than my 28, not to put them down as they are mostly great people. It just hit today when someone said, "I worked here when I was 16." Perhaps I feel I'm capable of doing so much more but cannot smash a door down and prove myself worthy of a shot.

I actually like the company I work for quite a bit and I'm not putting them down. It's just everyday I hear Switchfoot's Meant to Live over the store's PA and hear the chorus of, "We were meant to live for so much more," and yes that hits me.

Sarah Palin

Look, I haven't posted in awhile and I'm not trying to become one of those special Internet bloggers, but what's going on in the US disturbs me.

In the US election, you have Barack Obama, perhaps the smartest, best candidate the democrats have put forward since JFK. On the Republican side you have John McCain. Truth be told, if it were between John McCain and Al Gore in 2000, I would've supported McCain, but America twice decided to go with some idiot of a president's son. McCain now looks frail and it would not surprise me if at some point Sarah Palin took over office. Yes I do see her as a trailer trash Alaskan, but she's not ready to be president. She's spent two years running one of the least populated states in America and before that was mayor of a town smaller than Port Hope.

Sarah Palin is not a bad mother because one of her teenage children has gotten pregnant. Many children will go out and have sex before they are married, regardless if their parents tell them not to. But when a mother teaches contraceptives are evil and wrong as Ms. Palin publicly has, this is what happens. I went to a very large Catholic high school that had one of the highest pregnancy rates in Ontario and one shouldn't be surprised.

As frail as McCain looks, this election may be a battle between Obama and Palin. As pathetic as Palin's attempt was to show she actually has more experience than Obama, people seemed to lap it up. Americans will get what they ask for. George W. Bush was a lousy president, as will be Trailer Trash Alaska. But maybe That's what the US wants.

Unrelated, I saw a film called The World According to Monsanto. The film itself is rather boring and not the best put together documentary. Going in though, I did not know as much about Monsanto as I should have. I think what was most eye-opening was when Vandana Shiva, environmental activist and former winner of the Right Livelihood, or Alternative Nobel Prize, said that what's more dangerous than one person owning all the world's guns and bombs is owning all the world's food, which the movie claims Monsanto is trying to do, though it is a one-sided smear job (A company official is on tape saying they will refuse to cooperate).

On a happier note, Rochdale Rhymes and Readings is on Sunday at the Regal Beagle, 335 Bloor St. W., featuring Tomy Bewick and Phlip Arima. Admission is PWYC and there is an open mic. Come on down.

Not so Fast

That new job I was telling you about crashed and completely fell apart. I won't go into details. For now I've found a job at a clothing/sporting goods store.

So I was at Toronto Poetry Slam last night. Valentino Assenza won and was thrilled. I was thrilled for him. He's a great guy and good things sometimes do happen to good people. I was pulling for him in the finals because he was that good. He'll be featuring at some point at RDRR. He will be featuring with me at the Plasticine Poetry Series on Tuesday (Aug. 19th) as well. Rochdale Rhymes and Readings will be on Sept. 7 and will feature Tomy Bewick and Phlip Arima.

New Job

So I do have a new job. I'm now, or will be shortly, the listings co-ordinator for Sources, a company that makes directories mainly for media and PR people like the Sources guide as well as Parliamentary Names and Numbers and Media Names and Numbers. I've only worked there one day and know the learning curve will steep but know it's nothing I can't handle.

RDRR is tomorrow night!

Though technically seeing as it is after midnight, RDRR is tonight. Tonight we will be featuring Molle Dorst and Amanda Hiebert, two amazing spoken-word artists. Generally at Rochdale Rhymes and Readings we only have one spoken-word artist and a page poet. But I'd already booked Amanda and decided I really wanted Molle to have a spot before she went back to Kingston to finish her grad school work and seeing as RDRR is taking a break until September, now was the time. So if anyone does read this blog and is into spoken word, performance poetry or "slam," RDRR goes down July 20, 8 p.m. at the Regal Beagle, 335 Bloor St. W. That's in the old Rochdale College building beside the Bata Shoe Museum, by St. George subway station. There's an open mic and admission is whatever you throw into my fedora. Hosted by yours truly, Mike Lipsius. And if anyone who reads this was at the Toronto Poetry Slam on Friday, please tell me who won. I had to leave part way through the second round.

The Fringe Festival

I never did review what I liked and disliked about the Fringe Festival. I saw eight shows and will give a really short review, mostly in point form of each.

Crude Love- Story about an environmental activist deemed too extreme for Greenpeace who falls in love with an oil worker. Funny at points, but far too preachy. It was sponsored by Adbusters, which kind of bothers me as I'd have the same problem with any other sponsor of a play at the Fringe Festival. At the end they had a hat to raise money for Greenpeace in hope of banning oil mining in the Alberta tar sands. I mean, I realize there's a problem with the environment, but could Greenpeace not have come up with a more realistic goal? If it's as gloomy as some pessimists say they'll run out of oil soon anyway and it won't matter. I'd rather see a play that made me think rather than see a play that told me what to say.

Mating Rituals of an Urban Cougar- Andrea Thompson performs her performance poetry, which is great, but an hour of it is too much. Her banter in between pieces just wasn't enough to stretch it into an hour long show. Also, she objects to being called a cougar which kind of defeats the point of the title.

Einstein's Wife- Life stories of three women, Rosalind Franklin, Jackie Mitchell and Wally Funk who all have great accomplishments suppressed by men, from striking out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig in succession to hoping to be the first women in outer space to discovering DNA. Story is told in 35 minutes, but told brilliantly. Only problem was a factual error. Babe Ruth never had a candy bar named after him. He was nicknamed after the candy bar.

Ladylike- Interesting look into the life of a transgendered woman. However, there really seemed to be not as much of a story as there could have been. Not as great as Eye's four star rating.

About an Hour- One hour improvised comedy play, from the people who brought That Show Stopping Number last year. Absolutely hilarious. Six out of five.

Moments on a Wrist- Your typical interpretive dance show. I took a chance on seeing something different and I'm not about to pretend to be an expert on interpretive dance.

Sitting in a Tree- All over the place. No focus at all on the struggles in the relationship of the main characters. I still don't know why that one guy was dressed up as a duck and that Italian guy had a foam heart tied to him. Come to think of it, a lot of the characters were silly. I went away wondering what the message was supposed to be.

The Movies (Abridged)- Story of a guy trying to get a managerial position at "Bigbuster." Without going to far into the whole background, different genres of film are explored in a comical way. Funny, but not that funny.

Major League Home Run Derby

I am currently watching the Major League Baseball Home Run Derby. If I have to hear Chris Berman talk one more time about "A former heroin addict who was out of baseball for three years has hit 28 home runs!" I will scream. Yeah, Josh Hamilton's a good story, but enough!

Stone Temple Pilots

Last night I ended up at Edgefest at Downsview Park to see Stone Temple Pilots, Sam Roberts, Linkin Park, etc. The day was incredibly rainy and muddy. You could not avoid getting dirty. However, everyone got dirty together. Stone Temple Pilots put on such a great show. It was great they were just on a reunion tour and not trying to sell a new album. They just played all the great songs you remembered. They were far better than when I saw them in 1994 (opening up for the Rolling Stones in a 50,000 seat stadium with 10,000 people who didn't care to see them and were just waiting for the Stones). I realize now why STP were/are so great. They never had a sound. You couldn't say someone sounds like STP, because STP doesn't sound like anything. Their music was/is all over the place.

I didn't stick around for Linkin Park. I'm not a huge fan to begin with and I could see more rain clouds were on the way. I just went home.

But yes, I will pester this blog with more poetry. This poem is about STP.


A walking walrus running through the mud.
A recovering heroin addict
owns about 30,000 eyes
and 30,000 ears
for an hour and a half.
Even with the mud and rain
those eyes and ears
felt like they were donated to a good home.
The owner of more eyes and ears than he could count
in his red fedora points at the rainbow.
(No one saw it. We were watching him.)
He offers $5 and a colour TV
to the one who brings him the pot of gold.
No one was leaving.
We were flies in Vaseline,
very filthy Vaseline.

Weird phone stories

So today I got three voice messages saying, "Hey Mike, why are you paging me at 3:30 in the morning," "Hey Mike, why are you paging me at 3:30 in the morning and not answering your phone?" And one telling me to quit paging them. Who was this? I had no idea. My phone shows no calls or messages sent at that time and though I'm often a bit of a night owl, I was in bed at 3:30 am.

This story gets weirder. I received a call from the man who was calling me today. His name is Chester and I do not know him. He says my number showed up on his pager. This is very strange. I did explain to him I was in bed at 3:30 in the morning.

I called Rogers tonight. They told me they know nothing of me calling anyone at 3:30 am and it possibly could be on Chester's end.

On another note, I have been doing a lot of volunteering with the Toronto Fringe Festival. I have enjoyed it. I'll comment on highlights of the festival later on when the festival is over or almost over. I have many comps. I've seen four plays so far, with many to go.

Wrestling is So Gay!

So yesterday I was at the Pride parade. I got to eat funnel cake, I made a stop at the Proud Voices spoken word tent and had a couple of beers at the Alternaqueer stage, which I love. Something occurred to me when I turned on the TV tonight. The TV was tuned to WWE Raw. I'm amazed by how much pro wrestlers look like participants in a gay pride parade. They're out there being all macho, etc. but they're wearing speedos and really short pink shorts. They get waxed and shave their legs. They're wrestling covered in baby oil. Wrestling is so gay.

It's been a month

I've had a rough month. It started with my parents being involved in a serious car crash and moved along to me finding out I would be laid off to getting laid off unexpectedly early. I am unemployed and looking for work. This is not meant to be a case of 'poor me.' I've been unemployed before and know I will make it through all of this, one way or another. I know I am good enough to do plenty of things for some lucky future employer. But the perils of unemployment are a lot to bear. Not having money isn't even the worst part. The feeling that sometimes comes over us of "WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!" when we can't find a job is worse. We sometimes sit there praying the phone will ring for an interview or offer.

The most important thing is to never give up faith or hope because the second you do this, it's like being trapped in a whirlpool while hanging on to a bar and then letting go. Once you let go, you've let go. Always stay strong and believe you'll be able to get by. This is how you hang on and not let go, no matter how tired your arms are feeling.

Rochdale Rhymes and Readings

So on Sunday the latest edition of Rochdale Rhymes and Readings took place. The room was quite ful and a big hand goes out to the open micers, the crowd and features Jeff Cottrill and David Silverberg. They were incredible. I especially did get a kick out of Jeff Cottrill's tongue-in-cheek piece about writing a slam poem. I was especially glad to have David Silverberg there as the guy hosts a lot, but you don't hear him read enough.

Next month's RDRR will feature Jogindra Siewattran (Yogi) and Carey Toane. It will happen June 22 at the Regal Beagle, beside the Bata Shoe Museum.

I am excited about the slam this weekend. It's the Anything Goes Slam. My first piece will be more comedic parody satire than poetry, but it is the Anything Goes Slam.

Yonge and Dundas 24

So I went to the latest and greatest theatre in town tonight, the Yonge and Dundas 24. Getting in was a big enough challenge for someone willing to pay $13 for a movie ticket. I saw a ticket office, but thought I'd explore the Toronto Life Centre, or whatever it's called. I ended up on the third floor, through a series of escalators and wanted to know how to get down. I was told by a security guard to go up to the fourth floor and take an elevator down as they had no escalators that went down. I got there and found out the cinema was on the fourth floor I tried to get in but was told I needed to go all the way to the first floor to get a ticket and needed to take an elevator. I laughed and tried to get on an elevator but was told I couldn't get on that elevator. That was for patrons only. I needed to walk to another elevator and go down to buy a ticket. I did feel like walking up the street to the Carlton (where a ticket to a more "independent" movie would've been cheaper) but instead bought my ticket to see Iron Man.

Being suddenly hungry, I did buy popcorn and a drink. They were regularly priced for a movie theatre (which is astronomical) but were puny in size.

The cinema itself was pretty good. The seats have a lot of legroom, which is good for a tall guy like myself. Often small theatres are very uncomfortable for me. The movie itself was pretty good. It is as advertised, an action movie based on a comic book. It won't win film of the year honours, but for a comic book action movie, it's good. But if Iron Man could use his advanced technology to win the war in Afghanistan singlehandedly, why do I have so much trouble getting in to see it?

Apocalyptica

I know it's been a couple of days, but I cannot get out of my head just how good the Apocalyptica show at The Phoenix was on Wednesday night. I found out afterward, Perttu Kivilaakso played cello with a finger broken the night before. I cannot imagine how much pain he must have been in.

But highlights of the show were the crowd singing along to the instrumental cover of Seek and Destroy as well as members of the audience stopping to slow dance to the very mellow cover of Nothing Else Matters. Overall the band just rocked. They were swinging the hair and were not up there to just sit and play. They came to rock.

There were guest appearances by Adam Gontier of Three Days Grace and Toryn Green of Fuel. I'm not putting them down, but I felt as if their appearances took away from the show and the impact of Apocalyptica. I understand Apocalyptica has a new record to sell and that includes non-operatic or heavy metal vocals and more of a mainstream sound. I'm not a fan of the new record, but won't write them off as sell-outs the way I did with Metallica many years ago. I see Apocalyptica as just trying something different and respect it even if I don't like it as they are true artists.

One other slightly disappointing thing with the show was a lack of material from Apocalyptica's all-original and sublime 2003 album Reflections. I guess they had a new album to sell, fans know them for their covers and stuff in the middle had to get cut.

Social parasites

I realize my anger will sound like nothing short of a rant, especially to those bleeding heart imbeciles who actually sympathize with the Toronto Transit Commission employees.

But thanks guys for making me miss my lunch date with my Grandmother. I realize you have a hard life when you're making roughly twice what I am or more and trying to get by. I realize how hard it is to sit on your ass all day trying to collect tickets. $26 an hour just isn't right. It must be so hard dealing with angry customers all day face-to-face. I mean you have to deal with unruly customers, unlike all those losers who work for minimum wage! You should get a raise! Wait, you did but turned it down. Ah, shucks. Out of the blue, people can't rely on you. Now they have to drive home on a Friday night. Yeah one or two people might die in drunk driving accidents, but that's beside the point isn't it? I mean, the economy's bad, how's anyone supposed to live off a TTC salary? I'd write more supporting you guys, but I have to get up early and call my Grandmother and tell her I won't be around tomorrow afternoon. Scumbags.

Bob Snider

Last night I saw Bob Snider at the Free Times Cafe here in Toronto. He doesn't get credit for being the songwriting genius he is. He's definitely the most underrated songwriter I know of. His words are genius. I'll even go out on a really big limb and say there's a possibility he's the best songwriter Canada has. But I wrote a poem about last night.

Bob Snider
The ink bleeds blue
all the way through
this book with a 30 cent pen
found on a shelf at Honest Ed's.
And there's a bookstore with the family name.
Tonight I saw a genius among men.
His body and face would give other ideas.
One may see him and say,
"sorry no change,"
though the book displaying his genius
is available in the store with the Mirvish namesake.
I saw the man in a Jewish cafe tonight.
Bob Snider was his folksy self.
Thrilled he could share his genius with those who cared.
I hadn't enough money for his book.
A beautiful woman wearing a tattooed sleeve,
a beautiful woman, seemingly in and out
told me to go to the point of the books purchase,
which is across the street
from where the point of this pen began.
She offered to share her fortune cookie.
She loved fortunes and hated cookies.
I had my own fortune,
but I can't find it right now.

4 Poems, if You Call it Poetry

These are four poems I've written in the last week. One was about going to an NHL hockey game, sitting in the rich people's seats and watching a man and his date for the night. One is an attempt at writing erotic love poetry. One is about overhearing a conversation with a trio of people outside a pub. One was written while very bored at work on an incredibly slow day, trying to just relax and even meditate and being unable to due to distractions. Enjoy.

Mike


The Hockey Game
And she was holding his hand.
I’ll never know if it was about love or money,
or just a love of money.
And maybe she had all the money
and had a thing for older men.
We sat behind them, Mel,
watching a horrible hockey team play masterfully
in $180 seats given away as easily as a puck from McCabe.
Toskala was great.
Tlusty was grand.
Antropov was fantastic.
For a period of time,
the second period to be exact,
we were fixated on two people in the rich people’s seats.
You whispered,
“Do you want a trophy wife when you’re older?”
People so rich they only hung around for the middle of the game.
Or maybe a bartender knows they never left.
They took the subway home, after all.
Guess who sat beside them?
Fighting a smile was never so hard.
The Leafs will only polish golf clubs this year,
but someone in front of me, has a trophy.

Chocolate
I do want to feel you. I do want my toes to run up and down your legs. I want to feel your skin under bedsheets after midnight and at the rise of sunlight.

Yet, the reality is, I’m greedy. I want more. I want more like a cocaine addict wants more. But I seek something fulfilling. I want you to playfully pull my sweater and pants up and my hat down over my eyes, blinding me to everything but your world. I long for the one who seeks joy proudly prancing around naked, unashamed of all the blemishes we have and never talk about, only trying to let them heal and never covering them up.

I long for something as sensual, beautiful and erotic as us feeding dark chocolate to one another, naked between the sheets in the pitch black of night.


The Spitter
Two lovers and a third wheel
stepped out for a smoke.
The third wheel is a spitter.
"Stop spitting! That's gross!"
Yells the woman.
Her lover kisses her and says,
"Spitting's not gross, swallowing is gross."
The woman yells,
"I know, but he's just spitting saliva!"
The stranger you're ignoring now knows something about you.

Unable
With eyes closed,
I have no idea what awaits me.
I have no idea if an ear-rattling alarm
will abort my trance.
I know I have yet to reach it.
An annoying external voice
holds my head open,
stopping my mind from entering the surreal.
I want to hear, "fucking right, fucking right, fucking right,"
no more.
A wedge between my ears will not allow me to relax.
I cannot enter a dream state.
My meditation is going nowhere,
pre-empted by the sounds
of "Fucking eh, fucking right, what the fuck's that about?"

Reminiscing

I was just thinking yesterday about how Easter once mattered to me. It wasn't in a religious sense, but Easter always was a day where you'd get excited as a kid because you'd get pounds of chocolate and other junk food. Then it became more of a celebration of new life and the arrival of spring. It was a long weekend and I and other family members would get together and celebrate the end of winter. But the last few years I've worked on at least one of the days and it has been cold. Bitterly cold this year with snowbanks still on the ground. This year I kept forgetting it was once one of my favourite holidays of the year. One where it was time to grab the glove and go play ball with my four day weekend. I can blame it on the weather, I can blame it on work, I can blame it on being too old to care about mounds of chocolate. In the end, it's up to me to make the most of the situation. The finger's pointing at me. But damnit, if only there were no snow. If only I still had my glove that I could go play catch with someone with...

March 8

A blizzard blasts my eyelids.
I stumble through mountainous snowdrifts
and almost leave a print of my face in one.
"Suck it up," one man tells me.
"This is summer in Sudbury."
I'm now warm in the pub
where they hand out
mint-flavoured lifesavers with meals.
Where the days counting to St. Patrick's Day
change from nine to eight two hours early.
Where a lousy pub band plays music.


I know I am sick, morbid and selfish, when I tell you,
dying tonight wouldn't be so bad
if I had to die young.
I'm in the 27s, though I ain't so famous.
Deathclock once said I'd die on a March 8.
There's a blizzard in the window.
I'm alone on the other side.
The man beside me was here for two pints and leaving.
He's on his fifth and close to gone.
Dying on a Saturday when the world is dead.
I love life and seek to find what tomorrow feeds me.
Yet the rush of death is a once in a lifetime experience.

The oscars=dreadful

So I did watch the Academy Awards last night. Early on, I had to ask myself, "what the hell am I watching?"

First of all, I only saw one of the movies nominated for best picture, Juno. Honestly, if this was one of the best movies of the year, it's probably good I didn't see too many this year. Then last night I had to endure performances of those three god awful songs from Enchanted.

There were very few laughs. The only thing I kind of found funny was Jon Stewart's line after The Bourne Ultimatum won one of its awards, "Someone just jumped ahead in the office pool with a complete guess." T

he show wasn't as predictable as many critics have said, however. Marion Cotillard and Tilda Swinton were total surprises. But most speeches were a total bore. Thumbs down. A boring cliche, I know, but fitting.

My next post will have new pieces of writing, I promise. I know it was Friday I promised it would come.

Expensive Chain Coffee Joints

Tonight, rather than going to the local pub to write, I went out to a local coffee joint. Not a local independent one, mind you. A couple of weeks ago, through details I won't get into, I received a gift card for Second Cup. I sat in a Second Cup on Bloor St., the one across from Bloor Cinema, writing and reading Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. Hey, that Pole/Ukrainian sure could write.

Anyway, A chocolate tart, a chilled green tea milkshake or whatever it was and a berry smoothie (I was there for awhile) cost me roughly $14. That's almost three pints in a pub. I'm not complaining. It wasn't my money and I'll probably feel better tomorrow morning than I would've with three pints. Mind you, I'm sure that chocolate tart packed alatta calories and wasn't all that healthy. But this morning I had no time to eat and thought I'll grab a muffin or something at Timmy Ho's on my way to work. I got there and saw I wouldn't have time to stand in a lineup going around the store. I ran across the street to another Second Cup. A (really small) scone and a croissant cost me $5. Five bucks! Now Magazine spent a whole whack of time bitching about how it costs up to $30 to get into the ROM. How about how it costs too much to do anything?

Anyway, I'll post some of what I wrote later. Like Lady MacBeth said, "to bed, to bed, to bed."

Haven't written here in awhile

I haven't written here in awhile.

I went and saw Juno last night. It was alright and kind of funny, though I found it bizarre they managed to make a comedy out of teenage pregnancy. I just don't understand what was so great about this movie to the point where it would be movie of the year and where one would think Ellen Page had an absolutely standout performance. I didn't think any of the performances or the story or the direction stood out with greatness.

Probably the highlight of my week this week was me launching my own poetry series in Toronto called Rich Dog Rhymes and Readings (RDRR). Probably 12-15 people showed up to see Krystle Mullin and Lara Bozabalian. I was happy with the turnout considering the miserably cold weather. This weekend seems to work as follows for poetry in Toronto: Toronto Poetry Slam on Saturday, $100 Slam on Sunday. Live Words on Monday and the Art Bar as well as the Plasticine Series. I figure I'll have to sit out one of these days. I have other things to do besides just poetry. The date for the next RDRR has not been set, but it will be on a Sunday at the Regal Beagle on Bloor St. W.

Four things bothering me tonight

1. The Raptors lost tonight.
2. The Raptors lost by a lot tonight.
3. The Raptors absolutely mailed it in toward the end tonight.
4. When in the shower, no miniature Irish woman pops her head out of the Irish Spring bodywash bottle to check out my manhood.

Things that have made me mad in the world this week

1. Christian bashing- There seems to be an ongoing thing where it's almost progressive or politically correct to bash those practicing Christianity. While it's very politically incorrect to bash other religions. For some reason, even though most other religions hold even more socially conservative values, bashing Christians is OK. I think this is because other religions are seen as a minority and Christians aren't, so they're safe and people need someone to vent their anger at. The fact you need to vent at a general group of people is bothersome. The fact you'll pick what people won't get mad about and bash that group is cheap. By the way, I am not a member of any religion.

2. Sexist guys- Look, as far as women's rights go, forget about changing laws. What needs to change are attitudes. I am now sick of hearing from so many men about how they want to stuff their sausage in that and how they want a piece of that and how they want that girl's pussy. I hear about all these men glorifying playing women from their own mouths and it bothers me. This is out in public I see it and not just in rap videos. I'm not advocating celibacy or denying each other as sexual beings. But can you not see the opposite sex as something just a little more than meat?

3. black-focused schools- I realize this such a touchy issue and we're all entitled to our opinions on this. But was a lot of blood not shed once upon a time to end this? Those against religious schools, be aware. This issue is coming back. This will be a slippery slope where everyone is going to need their school funded. I'm against funding black schools, white schools, Catholic schools, Muslim schools, Jewish schools, satanist schools, green schools, blue schools and most importantly, purple schools. Greenlandic and Mongolian-centric schools might be OK with me. But kidding aside, I want kids learning together. How do we ever get rid of racism by segregation? I have no doubt racism exists, but this plan is taking the easy way out. This plan is like separating two groups of people to avoid racism so we can sweep it under the rug and pretend there's no place for it to exist anymore. It's similar to my stance on those who have hateful views. Let's let them say, "I'm dumb enough to believe the holocaust wasn't real" and then unite and show the world that this sort of thinking exists and then, of course, expose them for the fools they are rather than sweeping them under the rug. Laws and procedures will do nothing to stop racism if attitudes are not willing to change. If we start separating children into different groups based on race and religion (yes, even Greenlandic and Mongolian kids), it's going to be that much harder to co-exist in the adult world. Perhaps I'm naive or a hopeless romantic, but it's not the Canada I dream of. I just see no progress in segregation. I feel like today is such a sad day in my city and country.

Just a thought

Ever notice how Barack Obama and Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson have almost the exact same voice? If he wins, I want Barack to dedicate his victory to "the millions and millions of Obama's fans."

Band Names I'm Copyrighting

If you're starting a band, you're no longer allowed to use these names as they are now property of Mike Lipsius. Using them will require a fee of a case of beer and then a bunch of money if you ever get big.

1. The Cadaver Family Flower Shop
2. Hindus of Scotland
3. Both Hearing-Impaired Leopard and Hearing-Impaired Leppard, Hearing-Impaired Leopyrd remains free as someone else thought of it for me.
4. Jewish Priest
5. Semi-Autistic Machine Gun
6. Sawed Off Arm
7. (for the female punk band out there) Clit 'R' Us, though Cliteracy remains free as I didn't think of it either.
8. Jesus Hates Brampton, Brampton Hates Jesus

As an addendum, also add Jesus Hates Scarborough, Scarborough Hates Jesus and Jesus hates Whitby, Whitby Hates Jesus. Jesus hates Mississauga ...is too long so you can have that if you want.

Copyright Mike Lipsius ©2008

More to follow