March 15

March 15
Well, it’s starting to look as though the snow, despite its previous attitude, is beginning to recede. It will have to whether it wants to or not as the weather has been quite mild as of late. I heard that they’re even predicting some rain, which would be nice. We could use a nice, cool rain to wash the streets clean.

It made me think of that night. Remember that incredible thunderstorm? Nowhere else on earth can you feel the awesome power of nature the way you can on the prairies.

We had been sitting together reading (you were reading, I was wondering what was on your mind) and then suddenly, BOOM! The whole apartment seemed to shake. We went out onto the balcony and watched the clouds begin to move towards us so fast, and then the entire sky lit up. It was amazing how it was, at some points, much brighter outside than it was inside. Then the wind began to pick up and you could see the leaves on the trees below us go from this pretty little tarantella dance to arms of a madman flailing against some unseen enemy. Then the rain began to fall, softly, slowly at first, then in huge droplets that I thought were going to turn into hail. I wanted to go in but you said, no, let’s stay and watch it out here, so I got us some hats and jackets and we watched the clouds clash with sky in a dazzling display of warfare unknown to most here on earth.

Oh god.

Then you turned to me, and told me. You told me about the beast within that would eat at you until you were gone, the silent destroyer that one hears so much about, but never expects that it could happen to someone one loves. And you told me that you didn’t want to fight it. That you were happy, and needed for me to be happy with your decision, that fighting it would tear us apart and destroy every memory we’d had of each other in our brief time together. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I pleaded with you, please, fight this thing, we can fight it together! But you were firm. You had made your mind up. And we held each other close, so close in that driving rain, the lightning lighting up the entire sky, the thunder consuming the air around us until all that existed was, very simply, the two of us surrounded by light and noise.

We, neither of us, cried that night. I was too shocked, I think you were too determined not to; to not be crushed by this thing in your lifetime: not while you still had breath. We fell asleep in each others’ arms, safe and secure in the comfort of the other, for the last time that night. I dreamed of thunderstorms and sunrises and rainbows and when I woke, you were gone. Dreamily, I arose out of our bed and walked towards the kitchen to put on coffee, my memory of the night before not quite there yet. I knew there was something wrong, what was it again…

Carly Vs. The Blue Underpants

Carly watches David slide on his blue underwear over his pale, skinny legs and wonders how she ended up bringing this guy home. She had met him at her friend Stephanie’s birthday party the night before and thought that he had nice hands. She had laughed at every joke he had made, delicately tilting her head back and letting out a restrained, yet joyful laugh. She had done so because, what else could exposing one’s neck possibly mean? Her friend Stephanie had decided her party would be an ironic one, in which hipsters in skinny jeans would go to a karaoke bar and gleefully sing out their ironic renditions of Sweet Caroline, California Dreaming, Rock Lobster and She Bang. Carly sang My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion to the delight and horror of those assembled. David did not sing. They talked about their plans for the future, or rather, David talked and Carly listened. David wants to travel. Carly said that she did too. He wants to go to South America and live in a small hut and then follow the same trail that Che Guevara took when he explored the Continent by motorcycle. Carly ordered another shot. David would wait until he got his degree to do so, to which Carly replied that she thought it was a very solid plan. David told her that he was going to be a novelist. Carly felt herself moisten at the very notion. Two Jaggermeister shots later and she was inviting him to see her book collection. He was very interested in seeing it. Now, as he is leaving, she wonders how the combination of ironic moustaches, skinny jeans, karaoke and Jaggermeister could be so incredibly intoxicating that she ended up with this guy in her bed. No words have been spoken between them this morning and she knows that he will tell her that he will call and she will hope that he does, even though she is, at this point, thoroughly disgusted with herself for sleeping with a guy that wears blue underpants.

The Problem With Religion | The End Of Faith

Somewhere between 70 and 80% of the world’s population believe in some kind of G*d. Does that make them right?

In different times in the world’s history, people believed that Jews used the blood of Xtians to make themselves fertile. People believed that the world was flat and that sea monsters were a very real and probable threat. People believed that applying leeches to a sick person could heal them. There are those today that believe that there is a G*d that helps them score touchdowns and win Grammy awards.

And although we would think a person an idiot for thinking that the world is flat, there are those that still believe in the same religious ideas that people at that time adhered to.

Incredibly, even though there is a wide variety of information on the atrocities committed in the name of religion, as well as the incredible fact that most of what Xtians believe is based on mistranslations of early text, people still profess faith in religions that they seem to know nothing about. Ask a Xtian if they have any idea how their religion was formed and 9,999 times out of 10,000, they will have no idea. How is it that an Atheist like myself can know more about religion that most religious people? It’s because investigating the facts would shatter their belief system, and those that cling to superstition in order to make sense of the world would not be able to carry on in a world where they have learned that believing in their religion makes as much sense as believing that there is a person called Superman who can actually fly.

For anyone willing to investigate and to learn, there are many books available. These books will appeal those with an open mind. It is unlikely that many religious people will actually read them, but in hopes that some of these texts will reach at least a few, here is a list of essential reading.

The End Of Faith and Letter To A Christian Nation by Sam Harris

The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins

God Wants You Dead by Sean Hastins, Paul Rosenberg

The Jesus Puzzle by Earl Doherty

God – The Failed Hypothesis by Victor Stenger

This is a good start. Of course, as with all texts written by humans, there are flaws and there can be arguments made against some of the ideas in these books. I certainly do not agree with everything written in these books. But, opening up a debate and finding out some truths about religion can do nothing but good. Especially in a world where Xtians and Muslims want to see each other dead because of some ancient, often mistranslated, texts. Start asking some questions and you will get answers that will amaze you. You will be a much better person for it.

I would like to say how wonderful it is to be able to live in a world where you can question religion without being tortured and killed for your ideas, but, unfortunately, that is not yet a fact. Perhaps we will some day. It will only be possible if religious zealots do not find a way to bring about the prophecies that predict the end of the world. They’re getting closer every day. And that, my friends, is very scary, indeed.

The Good Christian

I guess if I think about it I really have quite a lot to be grateful for. It’s good to be born into a Xtian family because if you’re not it seems like it’s pretty hard to become one because you’ve already hardened your heart and everything.

There was this one man that stayed with us for a while, him and his daughter. He had had a hard time and was trying to be a Xtian but because he drank and smoked it’s pretty tough for him. He still wanted to do all that stuff all the time and you could tell that it bothered his daughter quite a bit but sometimes he still ended up doing it anyway.

He had a really hard time being a Xtian. My mom used to teach him about the bible and everything because he didn’t know much about it and she’s quite knowledgeable and she loves to talk about the Bible all the time. She was telling him about the Ark of the Covenant where, and this is where it gets weird to me, but I think that that’s where they used to keep G*d. I have a pretty hard time understanding this stuff sometimes, but I guess that that’s the place where G*d stayed so that he could be close to his Children. The Children of Israel, I mean. They carried Him in this gold crate that was decorated with Angels and everything and was supposed to be really pretty. The thing was that only Priests or High Priests or something were allowed to touch the Ark and if you were just a regular person you couldn’t touch it or you would die.

So, this one time when she was telling him all about the Ark of the Covenant she was telling him about how they were moving it from one spot to the other, I think it was because Solomon or somebody like that (I have a hard time remembering all this stuff because even though I got the Demon out of me I’m still not a very good Xtian) wanted to have it in the main Temple where all the really good Jews worshipped and so they had to move it all this way on these wooden carts that were pulled by oxen. I think oxen are cows or something. So, when they were moving it one of the carts shifted and I guess there were a bunch of farmers helping out as it went by their place and he reached up to steady the Ark and he fell down dead.

This made Mr. Kaelie pretty mad. I don’t really know why but man oh man did he ever get mad. He started saying things about how sick it was that there was a G*d that would do something like that and why would you want to believe in a G*d that just killed his people for just touching the Ark and why would G*d say not to kill people and then always kill people and all of this stuff. My mom just sat there smiling and she said, like she always does, that the Lord moves in mysterious ways. This seemed to make him more upset and then I had to go to my room so I didn’t get to hear much more of it but she talked to him for a long time and by the end of it he was crying and praying and everything but he still was pretty mad for a while.

I think he’s going to have a hard time being a Xtian. I think that if you want to be a good Xtian you can’t ask too many questions.

Ben Henriques – The Responsibility Club

Let me first start out by saying that, save for a few different things, I’m not the biggest fan of fusions of different styles of music. While I love In A Silent Way and Jack Johnson, (and the first Headhunters album) I get off the bus at On The Corner and don’t really feel like I need a transfer. I have some Weather Report albums for good measure, but don’t listen to them much unless they find their way onto my iPod when I have selected AutoFill. So, having seen a couple of descriptions of Ben Henriques’, The Responsibility Club, I was a bit apprehensive, but found myself pleasantly surprised by the stellar compositions and the thoughtful interactions on this album.

My first thought upon hearing the opening notes of the album was, “Man, this dude loves Stan Getz,” as it conjured memories of the interaction between Stan and Miles in the first notes of Conception. However, it lasted only a moment and I soon learned that these players have a style all their own (in the same way that Stan and Chet did). The tenor and alto saxophones dance around each other, coaxing sounds from one another until they end up like a two headed snake wrapped around the rod of Asclepius. Well, it’s probably not as pretentious as that, actually. However, the first track, entitled “Going South,” lays out their jazz roots and lets us know that they’re revving up to head elsewhere.

The second track, “Don’t Even Go There,” (and yet, they did!) is a slightly more avant-garde composition that is a clever mixture of soft tones and abstractions. It jumps from linear imaging to Jackson Pollock-esque splatters as easily as a chick in a short skirt moves from table to table at a nightclub on the prowl for drinks. The guitar player meanders from table to table while the rest of the band coaxes him on from the sidelines and makes sure he doesn’t run out of shots. From slightly dissonant to alarmingly good-natured and subtle, I found myself actually laughing out loud at a couple of points in appreciation of the delicate transitions.

My favorite composition on the album is “A City Map For Mermaids,” a track that gives the impression of being a heartbreakingly beautiful love song that simply demands your attention. And not by grabbing you by the neck and shaking you, but by kissing you softly on the ear and then gently working its way down and politely asking you if you wouldn’t mind very much if it put its hand down your pants.

“Sad Name For A Fish” is the perfect track for pleasantly melancholic moods and, like it or not, you will find yourself closing your eyes and floating along with the perfectly harmonized interactions between the two saxophones as they coax you into an opium like dream. The bass line saunters along like a fisherman deftly jumping from rock to rock at the shore while the drummer crashes waves against the rocks as on a perfect, if only slightly overcast, Sunday afternoon in Tofino. But the part where there are no hippies.

The only sour point for me on this record was a song called “Great Wakering” that I couldn’t quite seem to wrap my head around and might more aptly be called “Great Wankering” (sorry, boys). However, the track was over soon enough and I was played out of my confusion with “You Are A Protocol Droid, Are You Not?” While, for many, a yes or no answer would have sufficed, I was pleased with the outcome of this track and was glad to be back on what had, by now, become familiar territory.

It’s not as though there is a large range of musical styles on this album. Instead, the effect is more that the musicians have managed to recite their pedigree in a way that is both respectful and slightly brash. Quite simply, they have expressed their love of all music and managed to convey that to the listener in way that is not offensive or overt, as most fusion is wont to be. They are not given to thievery, but rather, having traveled down several paths, they are now able to strike out in directions that are theirs and theirs alone. Think of it as the Jeet Kune Do of Jazz music: free of all the conventions and useless forms of Traditional Jazz and leaving only the most effective aspects of the music: the most effective weapon aimed at the closest striking point.

There is also a sense of friendship on each of the recordings. There is a trust that each of these musicians places in each other as they travel along and there is not one note that is left unanswered or, if it were to fall out of the air, would not be picked up by another sound that would complement the outburst and allow it to continue on gracefully, having been acknowledged. Instead of fighting for space, these five musicians have found a way to interact that is seldom found in modern music. The Responsibility Club, courtesy of Ben Henriques will be on very heavy rotation in my playlist for some time to come and I highly recommend it to anyone that appreciates jazz music at its very finest.

You can buy this wonderful recording here, if you’re a Luddite(ish) or you if you prefer to use those iTunes that the kids are using these days, click here.