Sunday, November 28, 2004

Cool as Kim Deal

PIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIES
PIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIES
PIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIES
PIXIESPIXIESPIXIEPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESPIXIESSPIXIESPIXIES!!

Show awesome despite crap arena venue. Far too high off of Frank Black and co. to form even semi-coherent blogpost. Many apologies to readers.

Highlights (no particular order) included Cactus, TWO versions of Wave of Mutilation (with In Heaven acting as the segueway between the two), U-Mass, a beautiful rendition of Caribou that made the crowd surfers go absolutely apeshit, Kim's lovely vox on Gigantic, Nimrod's Son (which made me physically ache to hear some of Frank's solo/and the Catholics stuff - does anyone have my copy of Dog in the Sand, incidentally?), Velouria, Debaser, Isla De Encanta, Monkey Gone to Heaven, Where Is My Mind? and Dead. Here Comes Your Man acted as the encore after a particularly fervent standing ovation from the masses, the likes of which I have never seen. It was really quite incredible.

If my Pixies glass were half-full, I would complain about their omissions of Dig for Fire, La La Love You, There Goes My Gun and BONE MACHINE...but I won't. Because they played a kajillion great songs and are just. so. good.

Also, this show actually completes my personal Bands I Must See Before I Can Die a Happy Woman list:

1) The Cure (summer 2000)
2) The Rolling Stones (summer 2003, though they were the size of gnats)
3) Sonic Youth (summer 2004)
4) The Smiths in the form of Morrissey playing Smiths songs (fall 2004)
5) The Pixies (tonight!)

Three cheers for sticktuitiveness, rah rah rah.

David Bowie, Elvis Costello and Liz Phair: you guys don't actually count as bands, which is why you're not on my list, but you'd better believe I'm coming after you next.

(Now playing: "U-Mass", The Pixies)

Thursday, November 25, 2004

Lampooning our Nation

Congratulations to Matt and Justin for getting their National Lampoon on. The article they wrote about Canada is very funny so I suggest you read it right this second.

And check it out, ladies: not only are they funny, rumour has it that they are both available and easy!

Matt (left) with Blake (not in drag)



Justin (file photo)



You want digits? I gots digits. Don't miss out on this amazing offer! Act now!

Links to blogs of friends can now be found to your left. (Many thanks to the ever-lovely Lukas, who is an HTML superstar.)

(Now playing: "Shu Ba Du Ba Loo Ba", Serge Gainsbourg)

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Shine A Light



This is Win Tin. He is 74 years old. He is a journalist in Myanmar (formerly Burma). Or was, before he was arrested.

Win Tin is being held in Rangoon's Insein prison, serving three consecutive sentences totaling 20 years. He sheltered a young woman who had had an abortion and was sentenced to three years for "harbouring a delinquent sought by police". His second conviction was for "making seditious statements, organizing subversive movements and writing pamphlets calling for treason against the state" and a third conviction was for "secretly publishing anti-government propaganda to provoke prison riots." Win Tin's trials were below acceptable international standards. In his third trial, he was not given the rights to a lawyer. At one point during his imprisonment, Win Tin was forced to spend six months in a cage in the prison's dog kennels as punishment for secretly communicating with a UN human rights official and for publishing an underground magazine. Win Tin has a variety of serious health concerns and has suffered two heart attacks while imprisoned. He is a member of the National League for Democracy (NLD) and is a friend and mentor of Nobel Peace Prize winner, Aung San SuuKyi. Win Tin has been offered freedom in exchange for a resignation from the NLD, but has remained true to his convictions and refused. Family members are only able to visit him every two weeks. Win Tin is not allowed to write in prison, and the only permitted reading material are pro-government newspapers.

In solidarity with Reporters Without Borders and on Jailed Journalists Support Day, please sign this online petition for Win Tin's release.

Thank you.

(Now playing: "Burying Ground", Mike O'Neill)

Friday, November 19, 2004

Nightclubbing

Last night, we went to Orchid.

I now remember why I prefer comfortable, smoky, urine-soaked pubs to dress-code-in-effect meat markets. In fact, if I am ever again tempted to go the dance club route, I am going to come back to this post and remind myself why I would be better off going to Reservoir or something:

  1. Really bad music with throbbing basslines so persistent that they made me want to hurt somebody. Badly. Possibly myself.
  2. A multitude of cheerleader skirts that barely cover no-no areas.
  3. Bathroom conversations that sound like this: "Sarah,hon,thisismyfriendTammy.Heyhow'sitgoing?Cool.HeyAdamishere!NOWAY!Ohmigod,whyishealwayscomingbackhere?Didyouseetheskankhewaswith? Forrealshewenttomyhighschoolandshe'sthebiggestho,
    Iswear.Wellobviously,lookatthewayshedresses.Whatacompletewhore.
    Doesshethinkhe'safter
    herbecauseofherpersonality?Imeanreally.CanIborrowyourlipgloss?Kay.Thanks.Noprob.Cutetop.Thankshonit'sPaulFrank.NOWAY!IlovePaulFrank.Metoo!OHMIGOD!"
  4. "Drink specials all night long!" translates into Blue Light = $0.50 cheaper than usual.
  5. Boys with chains and gelled hair who smell like cigarettes, musk, and formaldehyde. (These are not your potential future boyfriends, Sofi. Stay away. Far away.)

In much happier news, I got a surprise cheque from Chart today. It's for a substantial sum, so I think it was probably for the uncredited work I did on the Sexiest Canadians feature last month. Needless to say, I am no longer bitter that I was uncredited. Now I can buy groceries AND pay December rent! Awesome.

(Now playing: "Good Enough", Mike O'Neill)


Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Taco! Burrito! What's that Coming out of Your Speedo?

Here are two insane email-related things that I need to record for posterity...

1) I opened my Hotmail this evening, and instead of getting my inbox, I got a weird splash page with the following message:

My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this lBurger?

·"Now thats a fire!"
·"Ice cream!"

For over a thousand years Roman conquerors returning from the wars enjoyed the honor of triumph, a tumultuous parade. The conquerors rode in a trimphal chariot, the dazed prisoners walking in chains before him.Pizza?
Sometimes his children robed in white stoodwith him in the chariot or rode the trace horses. A slave stood behind the conqueror holding a golden crown and whispering in his ear a warning: that all glory is fleeting.Burrito?


I should point out that each of the food references were a link to nowhere.

Any computer nerds know what that's about? Initially, I was worried it was a virus, but nothing much happened when I hit the continue button. Is this just some 16-year-old hacker nerd having a bit of a party or should I be worried that my computer has been taken over by Ancient Roman ghosts? TELL ME.

2) Lindsay wrote me an email to my Gmail account, which talked about a variety of things. Mostly about the kids in her new classroom. As you probably know, Gmail scans emails for key words and then displays content-related advertisements on the side. Most of the ads in Lindsay's email had to do with books on Dealing With Angry Children and Raising Happy Kids, but one of the ads was this:

Sad
Sad for sale. aff Check out the deals now!
www.eBay.com

I think anyone selling sad would go out of business pretty quickly, no matter how rock-bottom the price.

There's too much of it already and it's free.

(Now playing: "Paper Bag", Fiona Apple. Thank you, Zach Braff.)

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Meat is Murder (but it's so goddamned tasty!)

Quick update:

My ten-day stint as a vegetarian (aside from a small poutine cheat on Friday night) has officially ended, owing to the succulent siren song of Coco Rico.

And until they make soy products that taste like delicious slow-roasted Portugeuse-style chicken, that's just the way it's going to have to be.

(Now playing: "Fading Vibes", Les Savy Fav)

(P.S. I'm totally interviewing The Stills this week! Awesome.)

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

The Hidden Cameras are My Boyfriend

I. Am. Exhausted.

I've gone out 5 out of the past 6 nights (in an attempt to forget what happened south of the border on November 2nd? Possibly). Some of that going out was of the it's-4AM-holy-shit-I'm-so-hardcore variety. It's been fun, but my body is no longer as resilient as it was when I was an undergrad. Consequently, I've passed a couple of days that have been complete and total write-offs. My workload's been pretty light lately, so I've been able to get away with it.

Tonight, I've been cleaning my room. If I said I wasn't enjoying it, I would be lying.

Last night, I was supposed to see Hot Snakes with Paul and Craig, but due to circumstances beyond my control, I wound up going to El Salon to see Blow and The Hidden Cameras with Lukas, C-MAC, Priscilla and Chicago-Kim. I am glad I missed the Hot Snakes show, because holy shit.

Blow is this cute, coked-out girl who sings songs about sex, drugs and sapphic lust to synthesized beats provided by some guy I couldn't really see. Her music was alright and her voice not much more than passable. However, her stage presence, vaguely disturbing anecdotes, stage props (a string of life-sized paper dolls from skin mags) and off-beat charm more than made up for it. They closed their set with their sultry and alarmingly beautiful cover of "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" (which, coincidentally, Benjamin introduced me to just a couple of weeks ago. It's actually called "Come On Petunia", if you're looking for it on Kazaa. Her voice is much better suited to recordings than to live shows, unfortunately.)

The Hidden Cameras played one of those shows that put me in a spectacularly good mood for days. I was only familiar with "Mississauga Goddam" and "Music is My Boyfriend" before the show, so I had them pegged as sort of chill and Broken Social Scene-y. I couldn't believe the explosion of poppy, catchy goodness that emerged from the cast of thousands onstage. "Doot Doot Ploot" makes me so very happy. As does "In the Union of Wine", "B-Boy" and a new song they played, which I can only imagine is entitled "Lollipop". I will snatch it up as soon as it is released. Oh yes. I will.

I've heard a lot about Hidden Cameras shows from a variety of people, but no matter what you've heard, nothing adequately prepares you for the weirdness of the requisite onstage dancer. Shirtless dancer guy was wearing a red and black balaclava and a large yellow neck frill. At one point in the evening, he was sporting an elegant black shawl. And he danced like a maniac for the entirety of the set. I kept waiting for him to run out of steam, but it never happened.

My week of fun may or may not continue with Devendra Banhart tomorrow, depending on how much my arm is twisted by ICRM.

I am attempting to phase animals out of my diet by January 1st. Giving up chicken will be the absolute hardest, but I'm going to try. I made some pretty kickass tofu this evening and it has given me hope.

(Now playing: "In the Union of Wine", The Hidden Cameras)

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

America the Pitiful

Dear U.S. of A,

What the fucking FUCK?!?!?!?!

Most sincerely,

Sofi Kristine Papamarko

P.S. This open letter was not intended for the smart 55,546,066 of you. You're all totally invited to seek political asylum in my apartment. Have a beer, guy.

(Now playing: "Beginning to See the Light", The Velvet Underground)

Monday, November 01, 2004

Jay & Erin: A Like Supreme



Scene 1

Jay: I like you, Erin.
Erin: I like you, Jay.
Jay: I don't think I'll ever like another woman as much as I like you. Will
you...marry me?
Erin: Ohhhhhh! Of course! Oh Jay, I like you SO much!
Jay: I'll like you forever, Erin.

Scene 2

Jay and Erin (to their precocious 8-year-old daughter): Now, honey. When a mummy and a daddy really like each other, the daddy plants a seed...

Scene 3

Erin toasting Jay on their 60th wedding anniversary: Of all the people I
could have fallen in like with, I'm glad I conceded to realistic
expectations and settled for you, Jay.
Jay: Ditto, baby. Ditto.

Fin

(Many thanks to Matt for sharing that stupid, stupid ad.)

Hallowe'en was pretty fun. I went to a bunch of parties, including a too-cool-for-Vice warehouse party in Outremont on Saturday night, where I saw some of the best costumes I have ever seen (Beetlejuice, Aladdin on a flying carpet, Borat, a dead congresswoman, and a guy who looked like a lightbulb but who insisted he was dressed as "The Future") and waited in line for the bathroom for over half an hour.

As for actual Hallowe'en, our street is apparently a hotbed for trick-or-treating. I estimate we had about 200 kids come to our door. It was crazy. Although Liz had the presence of mind to buy a whole shitload of candy ($30 worth), poor Roberto had to go on an emergency run to the Pharmaprix in the rain and buy another $33 worth.

Also, I can't wait to have babies. Kids are cute as hell. Anyone want to help me out?

(Now playing: "Ethel Tripped a Mean Gloss", The Orange Alabaster Mushroom)