Friday, February 27, 2009

they took our job

In under two months:
128 job cuts at Snap Lake (90 more expected with contractors).
more than 20 lay-offs at Arctic Sunwest Charters.
5 lay-offs at Arsalanian Diamond polishers.
Laurelton plant closes... 25 jobs lost...
Summit Air job losses.

With the halting of mineral exploration in the territory as commodity prices nose dive and with the NWT's diamond industry (see, we are a one-trick pony) yielding expansion until this economy turns itself around, people are losing work left, right and right and left of centre.

But nary a word seems to be heard. Not in the legislative assembly, not from the public. People should be angry. People should be demanding action, shouldn't they?

Well, at least we're not hearing any of this...

We'll have to wait and see if it gets to this, though.

Well, back to the pile in the meantime...

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

potent potables for $400, alex

Slader, describing a barracuda, after coming face-to-face with a few in the Dominican and after one almost bit off his girlfriends toes:

"Think of a jackfish."

"Now picture his abusive, alcoholic, steroid-using uncle."

"That's a barracuda."

Funny aside:

When I googled 'barracuda', I got pictures of the menacing looking fish.

When I googled 'angry barracuda', 'mean barracuda' or 'vicious barracuda' I got a good number of pictures of The Sarah Palin.

Remember her?

Okay Sarah, can you point to the elephant? Good. Okay, now point to the orange... Great work! Gold star today.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Humboldt is hokeyville

Yes, Hokey-ville, my friends.

I understand there is an element of hokeyness in this whole Kraft Hockeyville contest that is being endlessly pimped by the CBC. But the Humboldt segment pushed us into a surreal 'Twilight Zone' of hokeyness.

I like small communities. I eventually want to start a family in one, I think. You know, hitting the Timmy's before sunrise, driving the kids to the rink. Pretty much your standard, slo-motion death...

But this Humboldt montage -- including the Elgar Peterson minute-long interview, where he says nothing and vacantly looks like he's staring death himself in the face, and the song (replete with piccalo fills) with lyrics right out of the adlib song book -- is nearly unwatchable.

Please keep listening, even if your ears start bleeding.

Hoombilt is huckeyveeel and wheel tell yuh wiiii

Is this traditional Saskatchewan music? Just because someone wrote a song for this event, is the CBC really bound to play it? Isn't there some kind of quality censor? I swear, I sang this dang tune all Saturday night and Sunday morning and my voice slowly devolved into an inbred kind of slur. I had the lyrics memorized and everything.

I have nothing against the people of Humboldt, or anything personally against the musical collective that pulled this song out their wazoos, but can we agree that this is the last time we ever have to hear this and that we put a little effort into our lyrics next time.

And now let's wait for the Humboldt hate mail to start rolling in...

Sunday, February 22, 2009

potent potables for $200, Alex

"Don't scratch your face with a dart in your hand."
-- Fletcher Stevens

Quote was taken midway through his losing $100 to yours truly in a best-of-seven 301 match.
Sorry Dilchy Boy

Friday, February 20, 2009

in the morning

It's late.

But when you read this, perhaps it isn't.

A friend of mine told me she read yesterday's post with some tea in the morning.

So if you're doing the same today, this one's for you.

Really can't think of a better way to start the day at the moment.

She told me I needed a hug. Maybe I do.

Just for shits and giggles...

Maybe this song went better with last night's post...

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

random shenanigans

Sorry folks. Been kind of disjointed lately. Work has been wild. NWT politics is wackier than a Willy Wonka candy creation. Life has been just as crazy. My brain is operating on reserve battery power. So I'll be quick.

Some random thoughts...

1) People! In the manic rush that is our lives it is easy to burn headlong through weeks and months and years, but do you realize that we are getting perilously close to the end of the 00s? It's god-danged 2009! Huh?!?!? How did this happen? Where in the hell did all that time go? We are nearly a decade through the millennium and we don't even have a nickname for the 00s yet. For some bizarre reason, I thought once we hit 2000, we would all stop and stretch and sigh and then take a deep breath and examine our world and come up with solutions to make things a little bit better. But I would have been 17 or younger before 2000, and therefore idealist and therefore naive and therefore unrealistic and therefore stupid. Food for thought: it's been eight years since Bin Laden blew up buildings and he's still out there. I've been through school and a couple jobs and a couple failed marriages (we'll work it out Angelina J....) Time is flying.

2) As a result of the ceaseless march of time, it seems to me I'm hearing way, way, way too much 80s music when I'm out and about in public places. Now, when I was a teenager or a young 20-something, I used to be able to frequent drinking establishments and listen to oldie rock standards from the Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin or David Bowie or the Beatles and enjoy myself. But damn! Since time keeps slipping away, the 80s are becoming classic and I'm sorry my friends, but the 80s are not classic. The 80s sound like crimped hair and acid washed jeans and drug overdoses. The music gives me the heebee-geebees. I'm not saying all of it. I'm just generalizing. And nothing bad has ever happened when someone generalized.

3) Another symptom of time cruising along like a banshee on a fission-powered broom is the fact that I'm getting older. I don't want to alienate any of you out there who may be a bit more 'experienced' or 'grayer' or 'hairier in the nose and ear region' than I, (just humour me and think of how you thought as a 25-year old) but I was in bed last night with my headphones on and listening to Lupe and started, you know, kind of getting into it because I couldn't sleep and starting mouthing the words and then... BOOM... it hit me... how old can I be before that has to stop? When do you start accepting passivity? Can a 45-year old white man, balding, with some liver spots on the scalp, and is psoriasis-ridden and athlete-foot having, still rap along to Lupe? Can I go on a road trip with that shit just cranked? I mean, I'm gonna be the same guy. I'll be into the same shit. Just a little rhetorical one for you to marinate on...

4) Speaking of driving, I came up with a very premature (and generalized) theory on the relation between a driver's aggressiveness and their place on the food chain of life this evening. I was driving home in a hurry (for no reason) and got stuck behind a mini-van puttering along. I was impatient and followed it like a pony in a circus circle (I could smell it's exhaust... mmmmmmm). Every turn, every hill, every second, the van's damn stop lights flash up, and it's frustrating as all hell, but I'm almost home so who cares. Then, at the last turn, the van's lights shoot up again, and it's left turn lights go up, into an income support area in town. I see a car about 50 metres down the road turn onto our street, as the van ahead of me slows and approaches it's turn-off, about 10 metres away. The van slows a bit more. And it slows some more. And it stops. And it waits. And the car off in the distance approaches and passes us 5 or 6 seconds later. And then the van turns. Moral of story: Maybe if you didn't always just sit there and wait for that all-important oncoming car and instead turned and took some initiative, you wouldn't end up where you did. Is it hot in here? (grabbing at collar) Quite the generalization and assumption, but oh well, it popped up in my mind and who cares what I say on here. It's only slinignlingo. Can we start calling bad drivers Welfare Drivers, instead of Sunday Drivers or Prairie Drivers?

5) I realized tonight how much I dislike driving. I mean, I've realized it before, when half-asleep on a couch I have to scrape myself from said comfortable spot to yawningly commute through streets to my sleeping spot at another place. But tonight, I came to the realization of how much driving cuts you off from life and interaction. Especially in the winter. Case in point, I have to baby my truck in -30 and -40. I can't leave it at work or else it dies. I have to plug it in all the time or else it dies. I have to start it all the time or else it dies. I can't just let it be for any amount of time or else it dies. This means that I can't walk anywhere. I can't stop in at places. I can't go for more than three or four beers at a bar or a friend's place. I'm a slave to my ride. So I end up waking up in the morning, driving to work, driving home and then twiddling my thumbs and missing out on things for much of the winter. I realized tonight that I need to live in a place where I can walk everywhere, or bike everywhere or take a bus or subway. For my own mental health.

6) I came up with a name for the now-defunct superboard merger plan proposed by our Finance Minister Michael Miltenberger, but our editors did not want to use it. I wanted to call it the Milten-merger.

7) I hate the whole concept of insurance. It's bullshit. If something happens to you, you've been paying into that shit for how long? It should cover you. And it does, but it just means your rates go up, and you end up paying more in the long. I find insurance to be very indicative of our economic system and I hate the concept of it enough to leave Canada.

Wow, that was ranty.

Monday, February 16, 2009

freddy boy!

I need to step it up and get some computer skills because there are about a dozen mash-up videos floating around in this head 'o mine...

I did not make either of these video

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Mount Douchemore (final tally)

Alright folks.

The votes are in. The ballots are counted.

Your choice for Mount Douchemore:

1. George W. Bush (who is he, again?)
2. Herb Mathisen
3. Stephen Harper
4. Patch

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod... (breathing shallowy, about to pass out)
Thank you. Oh... Thank you so much.
I just want to thank everyone who voted for me. I mean, Mount Douchemore? Second head? What an honour!
Oh man... Get it together...
Okay, umm.... I'd like to thank my mom and my dad for molding me into such a gigantic douche. Thanks for doing my laundry and doing the dishes and letting me watch TV for so long.
To my sister, Haze, thank you. I mean, you can't imagine how much you did to make me as douchey as I am. 
To everyone who was a part of this beautiful thing, I will make sure something gets on here to commemorate your participation!
Oh... and I want to give a shout out to God for blessing me with douchebaggedness to spare. All the douche in me is due to the All Mighty.
God bless."

Herb Mathisen's Mount Douchemore acceptance speech.

r.i.p. dilla dog (1974-2006)

R.I.P. James Dewitt Yancey (Feb. 7, 1974 - Feb. 10, 2006)

J Dilla died three years ago to the day of complications from lupus.

He's the greatest hip-hop producer in my humble onion and I'm thinking some people who read this here blog perhaps are not familiar with the man/myth.

Here are three tracks for your aural pleasure...


long live j dilla

herbo slice

Create your own FACEinHOLE

how to waste 30 min

Create your own FACEinHOLE

Friday, February 6, 2009

what next?

Legislative Assembly this week = Brothers Grimm on speed = story factory

Let's see:
Non-confidence vote
Premier addresses affair
Seniors protesting for health benefits
Groenewegen accuses Miltenberger's brother of leaking draft motion
...and many, many more

That's in three days, folks.

What's in store for next week?

Aliens descend from Planet Tramaldefore and take back David Krutko
Legislative Assembly building mysteriously disappears from Yellowknife, turns up in Inuvik
MLAs work together to collectively approve well-rounded budget that gets all regions of the NWT through tough economic times...

Yeah, I know, I'm probably stretching it a bit...