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/ 2005 BLOGS (*IN
CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER)
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Jan 4th,
2005... SONG OF
THE DAY:
Shannon Lyon - Jenny's Song
And a Happy
Nude Year to you! Back in black from a nice long chillout away from
all the hustle, ready to rock in the new year. Today I am pondering
the enormous weight of this question posed in Weekend Magazine, July 1961:
Is life worth living in the year 2000?
We're still sans hovercraft and family holidays in space, but yeah,
I think things be aiight here in 2005. Attention Scientist Geeks:
quit trying to make stacked robot women for yourselves and get working on
those rocket belts. We'd like those sooner than later, thanks.
-COOPout
Jan 11th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Matmos - Lipostudio
At this time
of year, everyone (monkeys and robots included) are posting their Top 20
music and movie lists. But I'm always raving about stuff all year
long, so I got to looking at some Worst Of 2000 lists, when it hit me how
much crap we're forced to wade through every single year. The slop
really adds up fast. I looked at a master list of all the movies
released in 2004 and within 2 minutes, I already had compiled my own list
of horrendously bad films, literally as long as my arm. I think I
only saw a couple on this list, but am 100% confident (by the trailers and
people involved) that these movies are a complete waste of my time and
money. It's funny, 'cos there's a ton of things you may hear or see
in a given year that may or may not hit you, but probably have some sort
of merit that would keep it off of a "Worst Of..." list. For me,
these have no such qualities.
After The Sunset
(Not to be confused with the excellent After Sunset)
Agent Cody Banks 2
The Alamo
Alien vs. Predator
(D'uh, aliens and other stuff blows up real good!)
Along Came Polly
(Ben Stiller gets the runs! Crazy!)
Anacondas: Secret Of The Blood Orchid
Around The World In 80 Days
Blade: Trinity
(I stayed home in my undies and re-watched the first one
instead)
Catwoman
Christmas With The Kranks
(I want to ho-ho-hang myself!)
The Chronicles Of Riddick
Darkness
Dodgeball
(Ben Stiller is SO wacky! See my review below)
Envy
(Ben Stiller blows it again)
Eurotrip
(Crazy hijinks abroad!)
Fat Albert
(another classic cartoon butchered shamelessly)
50 First Dates
First Daughter
Garfield: The Movie
(Lost some respect for Bill Murray, one of my faves)
The Grudge
Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights
Home On The Range
I, Robot
King Arthur
Little Black Book
Mr. 3000
National Treasure
(One of the top grossing films of 2004. Shiver.)
New York Minute
The Girl Next Door
The Prince And Me
The Princess Diaries 2
Raising Helen
Scooby-Doo 2
Seed Of Chucky
Soul Plane
Surviving Christmas
Suspect Zero
Torque
Van Helsing
Welcome To Mooseport
(Ray Romano gets multi-millions, I get dry heaves)
White Chicks
(Ha-ha! Isn't it SO silly how how different white and
black folks are!?)
The Whole Ten Yards
(The Whole NINE was long and bad enough!)
Without A Paddle
(Honk if you love crazy hijinks!)
You Got Served
Seriously, I made this list in about 2 minutes. There's no need to
feel embarrassed if you paid to see any of these movies, because chances
are you already felt ripped off and shamed enough after viewing it
yourself. If you disagree, please feel free to
email me
and tell me which of these movies you dug. Then, I will post your
name and picture in my next entry and we will collectively point and laugh
at you. Ha-ha, Bob McCob loved "The Princess Diaries 2!"
I also wanted to take a minute and remind you to take extra care in the
movies you choose to see in early 2005. Now's the time when
Hollywood unloads their worst steaming piles because they're too caught up
congratulating themselves (it's Award Season, after all) to put the effort
into making and marketing a decent movie. We're onto your schemes!
Well, maybe Bob McCob isn't. That dude will put two thumbs up
anything! Sorry, that's two thumbs up FOR anything.
My mistake.
-COOPout
Jan 14th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Razorlight - Rip It Up
I watched
one of the best movies I've seen in ages the other night. It was a
surf documentary called
Riding Giants, and it was absolutely
enthralling. A really refreshing look at the history and future of
Big Wave Surfing, the most insane sport ever, but not in that obnoxious "extreme"
way that they use to describe snowboarding, rollerblading, gum, and fruit
juice. It truly IS extreme because these waves are so big and insane
that if you make a mistake, you WILL die. But the way these guys put
themselves on the line to connect with the ocean is a crazy beautiful
notion to me. And when they're not out there, they're depressed and
lose that feeling of identity and purpose. It's all beautifully
crazy, human, and magical...you should definitely check it out.
*Laird Hamilton
charges a 50-ft offshore monster in Hawaii. Juicy Fruit executives
wet their pants as dreams of sugarplum fairies and
©Super-Extreme
endorsement deals fill their tiny brains.
OK, last post about movies, I promise. In fact, the next post here will
be something you're not expecting at all. Something...extreme!
-COOPout
Jan 18th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
David Kitt - Sweet Summer Morning
OK, so today we have a
special guest post/rant from our beloved Cookie. She's been really
ornery lately about the flogging of a particular product, and I thought
what better place to rant and rave than this tasty space? Cook also
hand-picked the Song Of The Day (and a tasty track it is), so please check
it out. So without further adieu....
So have any of you seen the
advertisements for the
Scentstories CD player from Febreze?
If, by chance, you have not, it's a CD player that plays discs of scent.
That's right, scent. I recently saw an ad clarifying to the consumer
that "It doesn't play music, it doesn't play movies...it plays scents!"
I suppose too many people were buying this and annoyed that some relaxing
new age music didn't come out of the box with the nice scent. Sorry,
it just "plays" scents. What!?
What marketing department genius felt
that a person would pay $45.00 to have an air freshener seemingly meld
with a CD player (but not really)? Maybe the point was to have the
freshener disguised as a common fixture in a home? OK. But then why
didn't these geniuses think of using something like a picture frame, a
vase, some other display item you wouldn't naturally assume could also
handle your "Dirty Dancing" and "Footloose" soundtracks as
well?
So who are the people buying this
thing? I understand that home scents are purchased because our lazy
society is always looking for the easiest solution to avoid having to work
and do actual cleaning. Don't have the energy to get out the mop and
bucket to wash your floors? Buy a can of Lysol for $2.99 and spray it
around to create the illusion that your nice-smelling bathroom (that has
mushrooms growing in the corner) is actually clean.
So if you bought this thing,
please never invite me over because, not only will I laugh at your for
thinking it was a CD player, but I won't want to eat in your house because
you are a filthy pig.
-COOKIEout
Thanks, dear Cookie.
Hey, with a little more research I found out that
Shania Twain is now flogging the Scentstories player
on the Febreze website. In keeping with this bad product and really
bad advertising, here's what not-whorey-at-all Shania has to say about
Scentstories:
"Hi, this is Shania Twain for Febreze. Please buy not only my
crummy watered down records, but also this completely unnecessary product
for your home. Shucks, I always have Scentstories playing in all
nine of my mansions and my castle. Heck, the bajillion hectares of
land I own in Switzerland all smell deliciously of Autumn Plum #3.
So please head to your local WalMart today and do your part to support my
obscene wealth and lifestyle. 'Wooo, hey, come on over
(unintelligible singing until fade out)...'"
- COOPout
Jan 24th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Johnny Cash - The Man Comes Around
Please tell
me you've been wearing your toque and long john's? It's goddam cold
out there if you didn't already know. Absolutely dreadful. But
the good news is that I'm jetting off down south in February, so I'm not
the least bit concerned I'll have you know. Isn't that always the
way? You get feeling a certain way and then a crummy jerk like me
comes along with horrible news and you wanna sock me in the nose.
Sorry, I've been reading JD Salinger again and I've deluded myself into
thinking I'm a recluse writer from the 50's who uses the words 'crummy'
and 'goddam' an awful goddam lot. Please read "A Perfect
Day For Bananafish" and you and I will have a nice talk afterwards.
My friend
Jode Roberts had an art show the other
night and it was really great. Hey thanks for all the tasty wine,
Sir Toad! People who paint blow my mind. I have no idea how
they do it, or how to figure out What It All Means. I used to
try, but I'd just ended up overanalyzing the smallest details and ruining
the experience. So now I just go on my initial reaction to it, if
it's esthetically pleasing to me, is there titillating (tee-hee!)
nudity involved....that kind of thing. Go check out Jode's fine
work!
-COOPout
Feb 2nd,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Doves - There Goes The Fear
Gobbler's Knob. Heheheh....
I was thinking of just posting the same thing over and over again like
Bill Murray would have experienced in the excellent
Groundhog Day. But I think that
would be annoying. So instead I got thinking that maybe I'd post the
same thing over and over again like Bill Murray would have experienced in
the excellent
Groundhog Day. Yep, turns out it IS pretty annoying. Sorry about
that, I'll make sure that I never post the same thing over and over again
like Bill Murray would have experienced in the excellent
Groundhog Day.
I was watching old Punxsutawny Phil lookin' for his shadow on the news
this morning, and I realized I really want to go to Gobbler's Knob next
year, get really friggin' wrecked at 7am, and cheer on the little rodent.
There were so many people there, hooting and woo-hoo'ing and chuggin'
beers and Red Bulls. Could there be a better pure American
experience? Get me some Schlitz 6'ers and we'll do it up
Pennsylvania style. Hoot-hoot! I've been to Penn before, but
it was just for gas in some scary town on the way to NYC. We got a
heavy, heavy
Deliverance vibe from Scary Town, PA I'll
tellyawhut. But again, if you're looking for the ultimate American
experience, you must assume some risk of a backdoor hijacking by rednecks
or dirty cops.
Gobbler's Knob. That's effin' funny, yo.
-COOPout
Feb 8th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Ryan Adams - Wonderwall
Hey, you most
likely caught some of the Superbowl the other night? (I had a Superbowl of
my own: a Superbowl of the new cereal
Life Cinnamon Swirl. Oh my god, does Mikey ever likes
it!) Sorry. Did you happen to notice that Budweiser always has
the best (and most frequent) commercials, but as we all know is absolutely
the Worst. Tasting. Beer....Ever! Seriously, if you crack a "fresh"
Bud, the whole thing tastes like that bit of swill at the bottom of
the world's second worst beer (which varies by opinion. The Bud
thing, however, is an indisputable fact!). So I got
thinking they should put the bottom swill of a Bud in a Fear Factor
episode. The contestants will wish they had gotten the blended pig
rectum instead. It really does beg the question: if someone
bottled a pig rectum lager and spent $500 million marketing it, would it
still be the #1 choice for Footballers and Fratboys? "Help her wash
down those roofies with a refreshing Pig Rectum Lager beer bong! Now
with more rectum-y taste!" With sweet copy like that, I bet my
shoulder pads and cup it would!
Feeling kinda
funny today. It's one of those days where you wake up feeling like
you drank a whole bottle of cough syrup and passed out in a ditch.
You know what I mean? Don't lie, you were twice as wasted as me with
all those anti-freeze and model glue shooters you were chuggin' all night.
<<twitch, twitch>>
Of course what I meant to say, is Stay in school! (Sorry, the public
service announcement people got to me before I could finish.)
-COOPout
Feb 10th,
2005... SONG OF
THE DAY:
The Who - A Quick One While He's Away
That's right beeyatches, you
just try
steppin' to me!
In the one/bajillionth chance that you actually survive your severe beat
down, then I'll have my boys
run you down and finish you off.
Then, I'll report all the gruesome details to the world at
6 and 11pm.
Of course, I'll not only earn millions, but also some
tasty RBI's for doin' it.
Then teach a course on
How To Be Badass, just like me, yo.
So I repeat, you just try steppin' beeyatch! You don't know me.
You're just jealous! You just wanna
get with this!
OK, that's it. I'm outta this shite weather for while. C-ya when I
get back.
-COOPout
March 1st,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Nick Drake - Time Has Told Me
Today I just want to be in
the sun with Cookie, listening to
Iron & Wine, maybe read a few chapters
from
Just Give'r: A Handguide By Terry & Dean
and laugh myself into a fit. Take a break from lazing around, and
with fresh ideas in my head stroll over and pick up some indian food from
Rasoee and eat it on the curb and flip off the morons driving by with
their stupid car stereos booming with bad club music at 2 in the
afternoon. I'll swear at myself for being so jaded that I can't just
enjoy my nice day buzz without bitching about something, which will just
make me want to go back to my spot in the sun, read some more, listen to
Nick Drake and fall asleep with Cookie's head on my belly and enjoy a
peaceful dream where I'm floating on the ocean, looking at the sky and
singing Time Has Told Me with little saltwater critters, and
we laugh and laugh and laugh...........
-COOPout
March 6th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
The Frames - Finally
I went to see
my favourite group in the world last Friday,
The
Frames. It was kind of bittersweet because the band was
in fantastic form as usual, but a really brutal audience made it
frustrating and hard to listen. Lots of drunken Irish folk, hooting
and talking through the entire set. The Frames are massive in
Ireland, so as I understand it, when they play abroad they get a lot of
ex-pats who come out to their shows for a taste of the homeland. I
guess it's kinda like being in France or something and reading that the
Tragically Hip are going to be at some small club. I'm indifferent
to The Hip, but maybe I'd go too just 'cos it's not every day you get to
see your country's largest band play in a wee little club, lads. So
I get it, but it was really unfortunate because these idjits came
dangerously close to ruining the show. The opener
Mark Geary, seemed really good, but he
never stood a chance and walked off halfway through his set. (Hit
the link for his tour diary where you can read first hand how pissed he
was at TO.) Sorry about that guys, we're normally a lovely,
attentive bunch of music lovers here.....unless you're an
Edge
102 wanker, that is.
On the upside, Cookie got some sweet baby blue Frames underoos and I
finally got a t-shirt to swagger about in, further declaring my love for
the best unknown band in the world. Forget the music, we've got
swag!
-COOPout
March 8th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Jack Johnson - Do You Remember
I'm getting my
wisdom teeth out tomorrow. Two problems with that sentence.
1. It assumes I have some wisdom. Even though it's only in my
teeth, I still refute it.
2. The other problem is my age. What, am I 18 years old
now!!?? I told you I was a late bloomer, but man, this is just
silly. The good news is it means my pubes are more than likely on
the way now. <Quick Silent Prayer> Hopefully the locker room
embarrassment will be behind me soon. "Uh yeah, my lady likes me
smoooth is all!"
Due to my old age and the potential complications, I will be given a
general anesthetic and knocked out cold for the operation. When you
get thinking about it, being under is probably what it's like to be dead.
You fade out to black, and then there's nothing there. In the movies
they always show people having these vivid dreams while they're out, but
if you've ever been put under, it's not like that at all. There's no
cool and trippy dreams, it's more like someone just stole time from you.
You wake up in a different spot than you fell asleep in, and you have no
clue how you got there. But everything's all right behind the scenes
- your heart is still beating, blood pumping, there's all kinds of life
left in you, but everything is black and you have no control. And
that's just from a loss of consciousness. So imagine if your organs
all stopped working as well:
You = Dead.
<--- that period is being used dramatically.
The most common question people ask before an operation is "So,
like, are you, like, all afraid and stuff!?" Nope. I'm not
trying to come off all brave, but the truth is that I don't get scared in
situations where I have zero control. Once I'm under, it's out of my
hands, so what's there to fear? The surgeon is gonna do his
thing, I'm a friggin' vegetable sitting there all drooling...what could I
possibly do to control this situation? So I chill out and enjoy the
free painkillers. I feel the same thing about flying. Why does
everyone get so freaked out when the plane makes noises or hits turbulence
etc? What are you gonna do about it? Jump up and take
the controls? Either the pilot will get you out of it,
or you'll be screwed. Either way, it's totally out of your hands.
Think those little inflatable water wings are gonna help stop a nose diving 737?
Sit down, relax, and eat the free peanuts!
-COOPout
March 15th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Jeff Buckley - Everybody Here Wants You
Wisdom
teeth suck. Nitrous oxide, however....very good.
I think my dental surgeon was a stoner 'cos, not only did I get the
general anesthetic, but I also got the laughing gas BEFORE getting put
under. I'm sitting there with the nitrous mask on, breathing in
waiting for it to work, and he's like "No Scottie, take a deep breath
and hold it as long as you can before you let it out. It works way
better like that!" So I start taking these heroic hauls and
holding it and he was right, things quickly started getting all heady and
really, really funny. The surgeon would look down at me and he was
all in Fisheye Vision, messing with me, saying stuff like "Hey Buddy, what's so funny!?". I
tried to tell him that he was all warped and stuff, but when my voice came
out, it was really low and warbled like a tape recorder slowing down.
So that made me laugh even harder. Then the Anesthetician came over and got
in on the action asking what all the commotion was, his head all round and
floaty like
a crazy Macy's parade balloon. "Hmm, I don't know what his problem
is..." I bet these friggin' guys sit around the office and take
huffs on the nitrous tank when they're bored. It's the only way to
become a pro, so I suppose I would, too. All in the interest of
science, of course.
So before I finally got knocked out, I was thinking "I better remember
this". I did remember, but not a single other thing, just like I
said. I'm smiling ear to ear thinking about my adventures with
Nitrous now, which hurts my mouth, but I don't care.
-COOPout
March 17th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
Ash - Shining Light
Got tickets to
see Josh Rouse the other day and I'm pretty pumped. Lots of good
live music going on over the next little while. Anyhooo, Josh is one
of my personal faves, and easily one of the best and most underrated
songwriters out there today. Well, he gets lots of press and
fantastic reviews within the underground music communities, so if you know
who he is, it may seem like a stretch to call him underrated. But
you know what I mean. The kind of guy that writes intensely melodic
and smart tunes that should be on every radio in every home around the
globe, but somehow falls under the radar with each release. (Sound
familiar,
Mr. Szabo?) There's a funny story
Josh told on his last tour about a "young, fresh-faced lad" who
came up to him after a show in 2000, professing his love for Josh's music
and how much he influenced him etc, then handed him a demo cassette.
The name of that fresh faced lad was John Mayer. And yet
collectively we ask, Josh who?
Do yourself a favour and go pick up
any of Josh's albums, I guarantee you
will not be disappointed. I personally recommend his 2002 conceptual
masterpiece "Under Cold Blue Stars", however, his latest 2005
release "Nashville" is on dirt cheap right now and that's cool too.
Once you get one, you'll want them all. The crying shame (but our
gain as fans and concert goers) is that Josh will be playing at Lee's
Palace, a venerable staple in the TO live music scene....but also a a
venue John Mayer never even had to set foot in on his quick launch to the
masses at the stadium and arena level game.
Happy St. Patty's Day, lads and lasses! Cheers with a couple green
beers...
-COOPout
March 17th,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
The Pogues - Gartloney Rats
Faith 'n' Begorrah, what was I thinkin'!? Good ol' Big Jimmy emailed
me with mild offence taken over my St. Patty's Day song selection. I
purposely picked an Irish band (other than the Frames for a change!), but
he raised a good point and suggested some Irish Rovers or something a
little more festive and authentic for today of all days. So I've
updated the song of the day with a nice rousing Pogues number. I
wanted to pick "Dirty Old Town", but the clip just didn't cut it or
make we want to drink more than usual.
That's better. Now back to these green beers, wee lads 'n' lasses.
-COOPout
March 23rd,
2005...
SONG OF
THE DAY:
The Shins - New Slang
I had this really crazy dream the other night that me and Szab were on
this scuba diving mission to swim with whale sharks. It was so
badass! But I woke up perplexed as to why I would dream about whale
sharks. Then I remembered, I was reading about them in this coffee
table Ripley's Believe It Or Not book, and that's probably all it was.
Either way, it was supercool and now I want to go on a scuba adventure
like
Steve Zissou! Wanna come?
Man, I love sharks! If I could choose how to die, I'd want to get
eaten by a great white shark. It would be an honour to be consumed
by such a formidable, misunderstood predator. Of course, I don't
want to get snatched at the beach by one - I want to be in one of those
cages. Big Whitey will come up to my cage and give me a sniff to see
what I'm all about. I'll sniff her too, but just to be polite --
it's underwater, I can't friggin' sniff! We'll lock eyes and get a
deeper understanding of each other. Her hypnotic stare will lure me
out of my cage, somehow thinking we've connected and it's OK to get closer
to this magnificent beast of the deep. And then it's too late.
Whitey grabs me by the torso with her razor sharp jaws, and rips
me in half! Ah, you bitch!! With another swoop she comes back
and finishes me off. Then the vegetarian, tree huggin' whale shark
comes along to skim up some plankton amongst the deep red, chunky haze of
flesh, bone, and wetsuit material. A lone, battered swim fin
flutters downwards and fades slowly out of sight towards the black
sea floor, leagues below. Hey, these creatures function at an
awesome predatory level...I'm just a miniscule appetizer from the city
streets. I do like to make pictures, though:
-COOPout
March 28th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
David Gray - We're Not Right
My name is Coop, and I am a synthesizer geek. <Star Trek gesture>
Live long and, er...something.
I recently bought a
MicroKorg analog modeling keyboard, and
have locked myself in the basement making weird ambient blips and bleeps,
saws and sines, and other geeky soundscapes with blissed out joy. My
MicroKorg is so cool it's already changing the way I write, and has
managed to elbow its way into all of my current and ongoing musical
projects. I'm not sure why but I have never really messed with
keyboards or MIDI or anything like this before. I'm just really
attracted to it, like a Lord Of The Rings fan to an action figure
accompanied DVD re-release. I have quickly discovered that, as cool
as this thing sounds, you simply CANNOT look cool playing it. No
matter what. From Joe Hipsters, to badass Cage Fighters...take one
step behind this thing and the formula is clear:
Human(X) + MicroKorg =
GIGANTIC NERD (with a remainder of Warp 5)
I recently braved public scrutiny and played my MicroKorg at a live show
for the first time Saturday night while backing up
Rob
Szabo at the Boathouse in Kitchener. Check out this
little video clip (1MB,
WMV file) of ol' Coop in action, looking only slightly less
geeky than people who write about themselves in 3rd person, or a 43 year
old man in a Boba Fett mask. I assure you, it's perfectly normal to
be confused upon viewing this video. "Should I be laughing at
him, or be touched by the melodic genius?" It's a toughie, but
ultimately your call.
-COOPout
April 1st,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Beth Orton - Love Like Laughter
Say you've got $100 that's burnin' a hole in your pocket. Maybe
you've had your eye on
the latest Pumas (like I always do), and
think maybe you'll pick 'em up today. I'm here to remind you that
sometimes, it's good to spend your money in different ways than you
normally would. I mean, you get that one thing then the money's all
gone. Vamoose. I'm not saying you don't deserve those wicked
sneaks, 'cos I know you've really been working hard and The Man has been
on your back. But think about the simple joy that you can create for
yourself and others by spreading out that $100. Do you remember
when you were a kid and you'd go to the corner store with $5 and just have
a heyday with all the candy? Apply the same theory with your $100.
Instead of buying one big ticket item, buy an absolutely insane amount of
really cheap things and enjoy the experiences that come with
them....rather than just one product you buy and forget about. Some
ideas off the top of my head:
1. Buy a newspaper and coffee for every single person in your office
(or department if your company is huge). Stand in the lobby first
thing in the morning and say, "Enjoy your free paper and coffee, my
compliments! Hey now, only one you greedy sunsabitches!!"
Now you're the toast of the office and The Man gets off your back for a
while. You just bought yourself a little breathing room, y'know? If you're really
lucky, your boss might even say, "Johnson, forget about that time when I caught you in the men's room....ahem, well, just forget about
it already."
2. Go to the subway and gather up a whole bunch of random people and
tell them that you'll pay for their subway ride if they pose for a
Polaroid with you. Then get a big ass group shot of everyone, then
get the token guy to wave you all through and take up an entire subway car
with your new friends. Kick old ladies out of the seats if you want.
What are they gonna do, try and take on you and your gang of 50 bad MF's?
Please! Snap pictures of some more subway car hijinks (hooray for
hijinks!), and post 'em on your kickass website. (That last part
only applies if you, like me, have a kickass website.)
3. Go to Sugar Mountain and have a retro candy heyday, like the
candy heydays of yore. Spend it ALL on gummy worms, Popeye smokes,
and Dubble Bubbles. All the joy lies in the fact that you just
bought hundreds of something. Give it away to your neighbours,
friends, and funky looking peoples on the street. I like your
haircut, here's a Popeye smoke! Hey buddy, if you pull up your pants
I'll give ya some gummy worms! Throughout the day, you'll have
shared and eaten so much candy that you get a wicked
bellyache. Lay on the couch and ponder this: does my belly
ache from all the sugar, or is it the obnoxious retro overload? Play
some Duck Hunt on Super Nintendo until you figure it all out. Woo! High shhhcore, beeyatches!
4. Go to Chinatown and buy a whole boatload of badly dubbed martial
arts films, a sixer of Miller "High Life" tallboys, and some tasty
noodles. Pull your TV out onto your balcony and watch the saga
unfold with the spring sun warming your shoulders. Invite a friend
over to enjoy the kung fu goodness, but make sure he brings his own sixer
'cos you killed yours on the walk home already! That is, unless
you're a gigantic pansy.
That's all I can think of right now because, sadly, I'm not a robot.
You can be as crazy and creative as you want, 'cos it's your $100.
Seeing as it is your money, I s'pose I should acknowledge the
arrogance it takes for an arse like me to tell you how to spend it.
But my only intention is to highlight the experiences that may came
along because you spent your $100 thinking outside the box. Like just the
other day, I spent my money on ten $10 Parkdale crack whores rather than
just one regular hooker. The
experiences that followed were monumental, however, not fit to print here.
Sorry, kids.
-COOPout
April 6th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Kasabian - Processed Beats
FRIKKIN' CENSORSHIP
I wish, like on reality TV, I had more big dramatic moments going on
around me lately. Everyone struggles their whole life to find
fulfilling love, great friends, and a sane relationship with their family.
I'm fortunate enough to have all of that stuff in my life right now.
Woe is me, I know.....but I've been thinking lately it'd be super cool to
have a buddy get caught up with crystal meth turn into a zombie to spice things
up and make my perfect life a little more interesting. Nothing keeps
you on your toes like a crazy, strung-out buddy hungry zombie trying to
steal your
wallet or set you on fire eat you
every time you turn around. Just like the
movies! How exciting! Plus, it'd be pretty funny to play
tricks on him when he's passed out in your closet or fallen into the ditch outside
the house. Yeah! You could do that old one where you put
shaving cream in his hand and tickle his nose until he smears it all over
his face! Oh jeez, nothing says 'funny' like a wild-eyed
crank addict zombie all covered in shaving cream! Y'know, 'cos he's a total
junkie zombie slob who can't
even form sentences, let alone shave! It's
ironic, see!?
Yep, you just don't get any of the
good TV-worthy dramatic action unless you have a drug addict zombie friend on
hand to risk messing everything up. Sigh. It just really helps
you take stock in all the things you take for granted, you know?
Hey, if you're an addict zombie of any kind and you're reading this, please call
me. I'm just kidding, addicts zombies can't read! Hahaha.
(DISCLAIMER: If you bought
any of that, it's probably best you leave now. Sarcasm probably
isn't your thing and that's OK. I don't really want anyone to
suffer
from addiction, turn
into a zombie let alone for my own amusement. I just enjoy
bearding my real message in sarcasm, and well, it's kind of sexy too.
I love everyone equally. Yes, even the Irish. Thanks.)
-COOPout
April 12th,
2005...
SONG
OF THE DAY:
Queen - Dragon Attack
Did you ever noticed how having headphones on in public can really distort
your perception of what's actually happening? When you've got
Slipknot cranked, it greatly diminishes your ability to hear
outside of your own head...that's obvious, but not really what I'm talking
about. Check it: Your fave tune comes on, the sun is shining,
and you start singing (very) quietly to yourself...maybe lightly tap along
to the beat on the side of your leg. Basically, you're all pumped up
and feeling the tune, but you're trying not to make an arse of yourself in
public. Here's the reality, as perceived by some guy you just walked
by: some oblivious fool air drumming on his chest and singing really
loud and off key just walked by me. But who cares, it kinda makes me
laugh. A few times I've been walking along, going all Animal (y'know,
from The Muppets?) 'cos I think no one is around....and then I'll walk by
a storefront and some lady will be hidden in the doorway having a smoke.
I cruise on by like a whirlwind of schizophrenic energy and sound.
But you know, in my head I'm incognito.
The other day I was walking along
rocking out to effin' Skynnrd or whatever (probably Enya, ya pansy! -Ed), and a couple dudes pull over to
the side of the curb, roll down their window, lean out and mouth something
to me. I'm used to reading lips (many, many, metal concerts), so I
immediately recognize the oral sphincter patterns to distinctly resemble "FUUUUUCK
YOOOOU!" I stop, click 'pause' on my little remote, but
don't take my headphones off. I figure that should be enough volume
reduction to ensure what was said before I haul out my numchucks (I gots
skillz) and go to work on these clowns. So I put on my best Pacino
accent and say "What's that, buddy!!??" He leans out further and
again says to me, "FUUUUCKK YOOOU!" I'm temporarily confused,
wondering why someone would randomly pull over and confront another human
with an insult, but not direct action. (It's kind of like trying to
start a fight with an armless guy by saying "C'mon, punch me!")
So I take my earphones right out, crouch into my Tiger-Lotus Stance, and
prepare to start snappin' some necks and knees. With incredulous
tone, I ask "What!!??" one more time. Only this time, sans
earphones, I hear clearly:
"FROOONT STREET!? Where is
FRONT STREET!!??" Seriously, say it and look in the mirror.
"Oh, Front Street? It's two
blocks that way." Whatever. I relax my stance, put away the
numchucks, put my earphones back in and mutter to myself, "Front Street
too, buddy. Front Street, too." Yes, you can check
how that
looks in the mirror.......
-COOPout
*NOTE: My spellcheck says I should change the word 'numchucks'
to 'upchucks'. Hehehe, 'upchucks'...that's some pretty funny sheeyit.
April 18th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Beck - Hell Yes!
Saw
Closer the other night and it was
awesome. But you should know that, when I say 'awesome' what
I really mean is TOTAL CRAP! Praise is the new insult, dontcha know? Anyhooo, this movie was so brutal I wanted to throw
stuff at the screen. Apparently it used to be a play, so actually, I
wish I went to that play so I could throw stuff at the actors instead.
If anyone tells you they loved it, just double check to make sure it's not
your Star Wars nerd buddy with a woody for Natalie Portman. If it
is, make sure you don't touch their hands. If it's not, then I
suppose you can hear them out.
Who wants to hear depressed, morally bankrupt arseholes whine while they
try to find the love and happiness they don't deserve? But my
problem with it has more to do with how showoff-y it is. That stuff
is all for the actors, which is only
OK if you're an actor. Why would an audience member applaud them for
"courage" in tackling such unsavory characters, and ignore the fact
that they totally forgot to entertain us? I wouldn't pee on these
Closer people if they were on fire, so I certainly regret paying
to
listen to 'em for two hours. The one lesson Closer did teach me is
to not pee on your TV (or anything that's "plugged in" for that
matter). The only thing worse than wasting your precious time
watching a movie like this, is wasting it at the free clinic getting your
junk treated for third degree burns.
Another crap thing about this movie is that they shamefully lean on a
beautiful song ("The Blower's Daughter" by
Damien Rice) to set tone and mood they weren't capable of
creating themselves. I'm glad I don't listen to the radio because my
heart would break knowing that tune is doubtlessly being overplayed and
inevitably ruined as we speak. Bleh.
*lata,
COOP
*Please note I won't be signing off with 'COOPout' anymore 'cos
someone asked me if I stole it from Ryan Seacrest, the American Idol guy.
Yeah, I steal all my lines from TV shows watched by millions and try to
pass them off as my own. Busted.
April 20th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Feist - Mushaboom
What do I do
when I don't have a particular beef to wax? That's right, it's time
for another list of things that have been tickling me PINK lately.
1.
Deadwood. This HBO western series
is absolutely dead-ly. Fellas, watch this and learn how to be a real
man. Meaning, when someone double-crosses ya, just call them (and
everyone in sight) a
c*cksucker and beat them unmercifully until they're gurglin' and
spittin' chicklets. The most foul-mouthed thing EVER, and also the most awesome. Sorry that's redundant -
awesome and foul-mouthed are always
inclusive of the other.
2.
The Decemberists. What you get when
you cross Violent Femmes, They Might Be Giants, and other quirky,
scrappy acoustic acts from the 80's, then toss in a little folky Gaelic flair
and
rousing, brilliantly poetic stories of ships, countrymen, and jumpin' trains.....then
top it all off with the lush jangle of modern Brit-rock giants like
Travis, Coldplay, etc. Oh, cello and horns too! Absolutely class, timeless
tunes.
3.
Seagram 83. That's right kids, I'm back on the rye. Not only
am I a belligerent MF on the stuff, but I've been drinkin' what 70-year
old farmers get down with. Get outta my way or you'll be spittin'
chicklets at some point during this three day bender I'm on. How I
woke up in a Grand Prairie cornfield the other morning is beyond me.
4.
Lou Barlow. This doood from Sebadoh
and Folk Implosion put out a new solo record called "Emoh",
which is HOME backwards, not whiny pseudo punk music for 14 year olds.
Some delicate guitar playing, fantastic lyrics, ambient sounds and rhythm,
and a tender voice in recoil from too much drinking and self-loathing. I've been
covering his song "Mary" for a while now. A
hilarious
(albeit highly blasphemous) tale about the Immaculate Conception being a
cover up by Mary 'cos she was nailin' the dude next door and got knocked
up. "They'd stone us both if they ever knew..." Screw
the DaVinci Code, this is way more interesting. Add to that a dead
serious acoustic version of Ratt's "Round And Round" and you have
one badass record on yer hands. Well I do, you have to go get it and
then you'll have it on your hands.
5. Da Zone. The best shoe store in TO where not only will you find
the sweetest Adidas, Tiger, and Puma sneaks, but also P. Diddy and Chingy
dropping large paper on shopping sprees. If you still think I'm still a
pansy what with all the shoe stuff, just see #3 again.
There you have it. Oh, one more thing: Check yo' self before ya wreck yo' self.
lata,
COOP
April 25th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Bloc Party - Helicopter
Had a really great time at the Graffiti's show the other night, thanks to
everyone who came out. I hope you enjoyed listening as much as I
enjoyed playing for you. You were such a beautiful, attentive, and
giving audience. It all makes me really happy, thanks.
I was also really pleased with the feedback I got from some of you
regarding the new material I played. Some highlights of which I'd
like to share/paraphrase here:
"That one new tune was cool. It started out sounding like it was
really gonna suck but then I actually ended up liking it a lot."
"Can I drink the rest of your beer? It looks like it's getting
warm."
"We want Szabo, we want Szabo!!"
"I wanted to tell you I really thought your new tunes were great.
But I should also tell ya I have really bad taste in music and don't know
what I'm talking about."
"You remind me of my cousin who plays guitar too. He's in jail
now for killing the neighbour's dog. Look, he sent me this drawing
of a unicorn."
Thanks so much for taking the time to share your thoughts with me. I
really appreciate it. You have no idea how this helps guide and
inspire me as I move forward with my writing and recording.
lata,
COOP
April 27th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Amos Lee - Seen It All Before
One of the things I'm really proud of with this here space here, is that
I've been relatively on top of posting entries for quite a long time now.
Of course, it's all nonsense and gibberish, but you have to acknowledge the
sheer volume and consistency of my inconsequence. I love reading
other peoples blogs but most rarely/never update the things, so I
eventually forget about 'em. I'm not hackin' on these fine peeps 'cos
it's hard, I'm just sayin' that particular sitch hasn't been the case
here. If you go back into my
news archives on this site, I've been
pretty much running my mouth off here for over four years now. Yep, it
seems procrastination is pretty much the one thing I put the most
consistent effort into. If irony weren't dead, that'd be an effin'
funny line, yo! (The death of irony, you should know, involved a
tragically comic turn of events that now contradict and highlight its
absurdity...and a duck-billed platypus, no less!)
Four years worth of entries. Sheesh. Dude, if you printed all
this stuff out, it'd almost make a book. Not a very good book mind
you, or to be more accurate, a horrific waste of paper, ink and
energy...but you can't argue that it'd be as long as the average one
should you print it out. That's all I'm saying. So what I've always found interesting about volume (what a geek! -Ed)
is that, after a long enough period of time, even the most miniscule things become
significant or "data". With the right scientific
tools, you can literally map the rise in bitterness out to a 45 degree
angle on a nice colourful graph. So I started doing some various searches through the
archives and "concluded" the following Fun Facts from my
years of blogging and logging:
Most frequently used adjectives: amazing and wicked
(and you say I'm negative! ha!)
Most commonly
used expletive: does
"frikkin'" count as an expletive?
Band name most frequently dropped:
The
Frames (followed closely by
Rob
Szabo)
Sarcasm Meter: off the charts!
our scientists couldn't get an accurate reading.
Total number of entries:
281 282
Longest entry: 1,065 words (if you count the slang and nonsensical
gibberish that aren't technically words, it's 225 words! hehehe)
Shortest entry:
18 words
Longest period without an entry:
35 days
Self-loathing references:
3,465 (I'm a playa self-hata)
Self-loving references:
too subjective to be sure
So that's that. Thanks to everyone who's spent time here reading all
this crap over the years. Much love for reaching out, sending me
emails, and making this another legitimate outlet to communicate with you
fine folks.
Hey, I'm outta here for Montreal for a few days. I plan to indulge
in their tasty smoked meats, poutine, and late night curfew at the peeler
bars. I shall amend our strained relationship with my broken french
accent and T-dot dissin' (but I won't mean it). I also plan on peeing on the Molson Centre as well. Eff
za Habs! (It feels weird making hockey references these days, but yo,
I still feels it)
Vive le bibliotheque!
COOP
May 3rd,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
The Flaming Lips - It's Summertime
Back
from Montreal with a full belly and renewed appreciation of our diverse
land. It baffles me why being anywhere in Quebec makes me feel
further away from home than anywhere on the west coast, or even the
States. Every time I end up there I marvel how out of place I feel
and how differently I'm treated. Hmmm...same country, same funny
money, same affinity for Tim Horton's coffee, and hockey. But they
no likey me. Ah well, I love all of the hatin' bastads anyway.
Onto more pressing matters. I had this idea that I want to start
putting a Photo Of The Day along with each entry. I've been meaning
to create a site for my photography for a long time, but haven't done much
of anything on that scene yet. So I think this idea fits the blog
vibe better and will give you something tasty to look at instead of
glazing over looking for swear words in each paragraph. Maybe it
will be something I saw on the street that day, a studio mug shot, or
maybe an old photo from my travels or...something. Same deal as my
Song Of The Day - just whatever fits the mood I'm in. Who knows, you
may see a full on crotch shot if that's what I wanna do. Probably
not.....but maybe. Unlikely.......but likely! So look for it
soon.
lata,
COOP
May 6th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Stars - One More Night
Sometimes I'll get some stupid idea cooking and it will keep me up at
night, stirring, and excited to spill it out in whatever form when I
awake. It could be a musical idea, some kind of concept for a song,
story, or just something I want to capture or talk about here. It
can bug me that I'm so excitable, but I also love it when my body reminds
me of feelings I sometimes forget about. As much as I'm a jaded hack
who complains too much, I'm equally as much a blue sky romantic, running
away with every little notion or stitch of possibility I feel.
I know that my ranting, sarcastic side has made a greater presence here as
of late. But I'm here to tell you that I'm completely off on another
direction right now, feeling like there's life and opportunity in every
thing we touch. Sunny, meandering paths are forming, where only
distractions and obstacles once existed. The ability to make plans
and block out distractions, excitement in waiting to see hatchings come to
fruition. My head and my heart is ringing out with clarity,
providing high octane fuel and simple, viable solutions for beautifying
life and making a difference in the world.
It's beautiful out there, kids. Go on, hug a tree, play some hackey
sack......you know.
lata,
COOP
May 12th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Ray LaMontagne - Hannah
I think
you all know how much I love robots!!?? If not, the answer is: just
slightly less than monkeys, but 9000% more than getting hit
in the crotch with a lawn dart. So it may be of no surprise to you,
that I've watched
THIS VIDEO 400 times, and it still makes
me laugh to no end. I am so happy to learn that the threat of robots
(especially retro robots with accordion arms!!) overtaking the world is
finally being taken seriously. Granted, it's more of a pointless
Deep Impact kind of
seriousness...meaning, the secret is now out but it's WAY too late to do
anything about it except to clog up the freeways in your "automobiles".
So all I can do is laugh an evil laugh to myself, but vaguely unsure as to
how I'd notate it here in this restrictive English language. If a
C++ script would translate correctly, I'd use that. But every time I
load it in, it just keeps putting ridiculous bids for Star Wars action
figures on eBay. Damn binary!
(I know nothing of binary or C++...but I do know how to mine geek
culture for pure comedy gold! Gold, Jerry.......GOLD!)
lata,
COOP
May 26th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Mike Doughty - Sunken-Eyed Girl
Yeah, well it seems I've gone and jinxed myself. I knew as soon as I
started patting myself on the back for being a super-consistent blogger,
then I'd go and run out of ideas and not have anything to say for two
weeks. Serves me right, I know. It's funny how with a lot of
things (especially music, but OK, this too), you just can't acknowledge "it"
or the magic will disappear. It's kinda like the time I told all my
friends I could eat a Costco-sized bag of spicy beef jerky and down a 40oz
of
Jim Beam. See, I did it without thought for the six
previous Fridays - much to Miss Cookie's chagrin. But when I
announced my, er, talents to the boys, they wanted to see the proof
first hand. So we got some dry ice and black lights, I laced up my
steel toes and went for it. Of course, I don't need to tell you how
badly and UNmagically it went down. In fact, I'm kinda
forbidden by law to talk about it anymore than this. So let's just
say that it will easily be another two, three years before people can
start canoeing the Wye River again.
So I'm just kinda bummed that I didn't learn from my mistakes, and have
somehow placed some kind of evil ju-ju on myself to perform. You may
say, "But you're writing now! Hazzah, the curse has lifted!" but
you'd be wrong. It doesn't count when the written subject at hand is
simply to acknowledge that I haven't written. Nope, doesn't count.
Nor, does it count when I start rhyming off daily minutiae like "I
shore like green tea" or "I shore had a real good poo today!"
The curse stands. You'll only know how long until when/if you hear
from me again. Kindly be patient, little chickadees...and you too,
Dear Reader.
lata?
COOP
May 31st,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Kings Of Leon - Razz
I was
doing some stretches yesterday before hitting the gym, when it occurred to
me that I hadn't stretched in a very long time. I mean, I've reached
WAY across the table to grab more wine, yummy bread, or thirds of Big
Jimmy's meatloaf surprise...but that's about it. Stretching is so
great, I wish I could discipline myself to get up real early and do a
whole routine by sunrise like The Karate Kid. I'd wax on....then wax
off a few times. That's the whole thing that knocks me out about
fitness, and why I'm getting fat and need to make some changes. I'm
not concerned with the vanity, obsessing about weight to look a certain
way...it's more that I feel as though I've lost my self-discipline to do
something just because it's hard or no fun. I've been soft for a
while, and have realized that my priorities are out of whack when faced
with this critical decision last week:
Ride the bike for 25 mins and hit the weights, OR eat nachos and watch Rob
& Amber's goddam wedding.
Ahem....so that's why I started working out hardcore yesterday.
I'm going to put a real-time
©Gut-Cam
up on the site so you can watch my transformation from flab, to sorta fab
over the next while. I say 'sorta fab' because, while I'm totally
committed to the fitness, I'm not too sure I'll be very successful with
the food part. Very, not sure. "One thing at a time, Daniel
Son", as Mr. Miyagi would have said if they used my script for
Karate Kid 3. (Plus, there was more asskicking, a gay Cobra Kai
member, and awesome fart jokes)
lata,
COOP
June 6th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Amy Correia - Gin
This fair city
of ours has been a hot place the last few days. You know it's hot
when your forearms and shins sweat for no good reason. You're just
standing around, not doing scissor kicks or even super slow tai chi moves.
You know it's hot when the Kool-Aid guy comes busting through the wall,
shouting his "Oh Yeah!" catchphrase. Throwback retro nonsense
aside, that guy really does make you want to drink ice cold neon blue
sugar water....as long as there's gin it of course. Then again, put
some gin in a hot chocolate and I'll drink it at high noon in the Arizona
desert.
I finally stepped up and shaved my head last week. I always thought
it'd be a great way to keep cool in the summer. Newsflash: it's NOT.
All it does is expose your tender white scalp to the scorching sun and
roast it to previously impossible crispness. Yeowch. If you
put a blindfold on, $100 says you couldn't tell the difference between my
noggin' and a KFC drumstick. Especially if I haven't showered in a few
days. Mmmmmmm...crispy and greasy.
Oh well, at least my new 'do' (or more aptly 'don't') has
provided me with unforeseen aerodynamic gains. I'm proud to announce
that I've set a new record for 100m backstroke at the Y's Senior Swim.
You don't get that kind of glory for free, so I guess it's all coming out
in the warsh - along with my Canada flag speedo trunks.
lata,
COOP
June 10th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Be Good Tanyas - Only In The Past
I was
walking home yesterday, when the friggin' Batmobile pulls up to the movie
theatre on the other side of the street! Well, it was the new/old
one from Batman Returns. This one is actually pretty kickass
looking...kinda like a cross between a Hummer and a Stealth bomber.
I took a couple pix and was gonna post them here, but then I realized I
don't really care. It was obviously a planned promotional event, but
I had no friggin' idea. I just walked around the corner and was all,
"Batman!!?? Gee-willikers, there must be trouble at the Cineplex!!"
Turns out there was.
Bill Gates had taken an audience at Revenge Of The Sith hostage,
demanding they get back to their programming jobs or else Microsoft would
go belly up. Batman was there to reason with the audience that,
perhaps The Bill was right:
Batman: "Now geeks - er, I mean Really Cool Guys. Ahem.
You need to listen to Bill and get back to work. And also 'cos
you'll need to save a couple vacation days so you can take more time off
next week when MY movie opens!! 76 times is 77 times too many to see
this Star Wars installment already! Ha-ha, that's some funny
Bat-math for you."
Lead Geek: "OK Batman, we'll go back. Hey Batman, what was
it like kissing Katie Holmes? You, Tom Cruise, and Dawson are so
lucky!"
Napolean Dynamite: "Lucky!"
Batman: "That pig wanted a three-way with me and Alfred and
insisted that The Enquirer shoot the whole thing. That's just
gross......you know I've got that contract with People Magazine, man."
The news cameras pull away as Batman leads his legion of nerdy fans
out the theatre doors and into the blinding concession stand lights of the
foyer. This last conversation is overheard as the opening strains to
that ubiquitous (that means 'supergay' if you didn't know) Prince song
fade in:
Geek #2: "Hey Batman, who would win in a fight: you or
Gandalf!!??"
Batman: "Do you mean a real fight, or at the box office!?
Huhuhuhuhuhuh,snort,!!"
lata,
COOP
June 15th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Foo Fighters - Another Round
Today I started writing this whole philosophically-tinged piece about the
inherent personal traits we possess, and if it's possible through
perspective and knowledge to fundamentally change who we are. I had it all
plotted out and ready to post when I realized, that's really boring and
stupid to be having a one-way dialogue about something like that. I love
writing and sharing my thoughts, but if there's no exchange of ideas,
what's the point? I can write about hot sauce and death metal, and
you can send me love/hate mail...but that's no conversation.
You just can't launch these kinds of theories into space without someone
else there to agree, disagree, or punch you in the colon for such
insolence. Nah, these topics are best discussed at 3am with a diverse group of
friends who have drank their weight in Goldschlager shots.
Especially when the Super Nintendo is in the shop, and playing cards is
just too visceral an activity. So...pseudo-heady conversation it is.
Like, they have these secret cars now that run on water but won't sell
them to us!
lata,
COOP
June 21st,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Metric - Combat Baby
I had
the distinct but looooong overdue pleasure of catching
David Kitt perform on Friday night at the El Mo. I've
been obsessively into his music for several years now and he has never,
ever, neverever, been to Canada in all that time. Ever! So
when I saw his name in the paper, my heart skipped a beat and I almost
swallowed my tongue. I guess I had given up hope that, short of
actually going to Ireland, I would ever get to see him perform live.
I fretted the week leading up to the show because his set was to be
(unbelievably) an opening gig for another artist. I worried that he
wouldn't get the attention he deserved, the heckling and indifferent clamoring above the music. But then again, that scenario
would allow me to unleash my favourite Supa Crowd Ninja alter-ego to do
stealthy backflips around the room, decapitating those who just won't shut
their gates.
Always the optimist, I also worried that he would be his
brilliant self and the short set time would leave me broken-hearted,
wanting more more more. Which of course, is how it went down. We sat on
chairs five feet from him and tried our best to take in his breathtaking
talent in the swift 40 minutes he was given. It was surreal and
magical and over way too quickly. Do yourself a favour and check out his
album
The Big Romance. It's easily in my
Top 5 records ever, and it will astound you how beautiful and chameleon-esque
it is. Meaning it somehow fits any situation, any time, and
increases the vibes tenfold. It is, of course, best served with
headphones...but will still manage to hit you even if you're just unclogging
the john, or warshing your socks.
Juxtaposition is the word of the week, one that is better left
written than fumbled about with orally. Hehehe, that's pretty dirty
right there. It also has 'position' in it, so it's all pretty
nasty over here. Ahem. So to juxtapose, I'm moving from David Kitt onto:
The
MMVA's were on the other night, which take place literally a block away
from our apartment. The significance of this event is so important
to us, that we can't even bother to walk 300 meters to take it in. I
do, however, boo and hiss at it on TV while a strange phase/delay sound effect
happens due to the proximity of the gigantic, swirling outdoor PA overtaking my
thin indoor TV volume and its millisecond broadcast delay.
It's like a wave of mediocrity flooding the neighbourhood,
creating resounding ripples of disposable sound in our courtyard swimming
pool. When the love of music or film is pitted against The Cult of
Celebrity, guess who wins in every case? You know this.
The Arcade Fire was the sole
exception who, added at the last minute, provided a shred of integrity to
the proceedings. Poor Ashlee Simpson. She's the only one of
the current crop of talent-less pop tartlets that, because of the massive
scrutiny, has to actually sing her songs live. Clearly overheard
after her "performance" were obviously disappointed pre-teens lamenting on
their cell phones "Ohmygod Chrissy! Ashlee sounded
terrible. Hilary and Lindsay are much better performers."
Like shooting fish in a barrel, I know. But how can I resist?
They're right there!
lata,
COOP
June 23rd,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Adam Warner - Fall
Have you ever noticed that you'll hear people say
that they're feeling "discombobulated" when they're all
stressed and way out of sorts? I hear it all the time, it's such a great
word. That's because it's one of the rare ones where the word
really sounds like the feeling it represents. It's so strange
sounding and multi-syllabic that whenever dudes say it, your brain is
taken by surprise and hiccups with a "whoah, what!?" for a
split second. Perfect.
But have you ever noticed that when things are superchilled and totally
smooth, no one will ever tell you just how combobulated they feel?
I'm on the beach with a frosty coconut beverage in hand, not a care in
the world. Completely combobulated. I just hope nothing goes
wrong, because I'd really hate to become discombobulated.
That would totally suck.
Hey!
Tomorrow night (Fri 24th), I'm playing my last show with
Rob Szabo for the rest of the
summer. If you're free, you should definitely come out 'cos the
last show with this lineup was totally insane! We can all raise a glass to the
man of the hour, and wish him well as he embarks on his cross-Canada/US
summer tour. All the event details are on the
shows page. Hope to see you out!
Vive le pamplemousse!
COOP
July 6th,
2005... SONG
OF THE DAY:
Peter Katz - Endless Day
I'm
still seeing fireflies.
Spent the last week up north in a little cabin, completely unplugged and
relaxin'. Lots of BBQ-in, beach, and campfire goodness to satisfy
urges and reminisce aplenty. I seriously feel like I've been gone a
month! Out of touch and loving it. Spending each evening under
an infinite stretch of coal black sky and brilliant stars is always a
treat and welcome reprieve from the eternal ballpark lights of the city.
Jays 4, Yankees, 9.
I would sneak pees out the back door of the cabin late at night, and all
through the trees and sky, fireflies would blink their emerald-y blink at
me. There's one! Oh, there's another. Since I've been
home, if I find myself in the dark (usually to pee!) I swear I'm seeing
one of my firefly buddies blinking hello out of the corner of my eye.
Oh, there's one - nope. Perhaps it has something to do with pee?
Hmmm...I did eat asparagus recently.
Had a fun show last night at Graffiti's. Thanks to Christen for
having me out to play the first of her monthly summer songwriter shows.
I played a couple new songs, and also used my iPOD as a backing band on a
few tunes. It was really fun, but really strange to have all this
sound and rhythm coming out of the speakers, but no one there. My
"band" behaved for the most part, didn't drink too much before the show
and start messing everything up. The same, however, cannot be said
for me.
Vive le tekmology!
COOP
July 12th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Odds - Truth Untold
UPDATE:
07/13/05: WOW, this is really weird: the same day I wrote
this, a piece about the
cancellation of the Sunday Night Sex Show hits the newswire. Dammit, I wish I had asked for ten million
dollars instead....or the ability to turn store-bought apple pie into
homemade apple pie. Mmmmm, now that would be a gift!!
cheers, COOP
Some friends
of ours were in town from Fargo (yes, that Fargo, Margie) a while back, and I was reminded the other
night of a very important question they asked of us: "Why is someone's
Grandma on TV talking about sex?" Referring of course, to Sue Johanson
and her call-in sex advice program. It was really funny, but a very good
question nonetheless. I guess she's been on TV long enough that we
just don't think about it anymore.
But then, I tried unsuccessfully to remember a time when she didn't look
like someone's Grannie. I guess there's just something in our
Canadian blood that thinks it's appropriate to sit back with a Tim
Horton's coffee and watch Grandma show her young 'uns how to use a
vibrator. "Now dears, always make sure to have a healthy supply
of 9V batteries in your tickle trunk."
Seeing as I hold a degree in Human Sexual Relations, (and a PhD in
Awesome), please feel free to send me your questions about sex or concerns
about that itchy nut rash you've got, and I promise I'll set you straight.
Please. The last thing we need is more video of Grandma
explaining how to stimulate the clitoris right after dinner. C'mon,
after dinner is pie time...but I mean that in another way, you perverts.
Vive la phoque,
COOP
July 15th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Herbie Hancock - Rockit
How
awesome would it be to have your own theme music? You know, you're
cruising around doing stuff, and all the while Your Theme is
playing in the background. It's definitely an enabling thing, makes
me want to do more stuff and infinitely improves the way in which I do it.
I've decided that I want Herbie Hancock's "Rockit" as my personal
theme music. It's so badass, and you can't help but hum (and in my
case
imitate that synth sound) the main part
from it all the time. So even if it's not on, you can still make it
happen. Yep, the DJ always knows what you want to hear on the
brain waves.
Listening to "Rockit" makes me simultaneously feel like an
undercover cop AND a retro nerd doing robot moves with those big huge
glasses on. Or maybe a really big suit like David Byrne had in that
Talking Heads' video. Yeah, an undercover cop wearing a RILLY big
suit doing robot moves. Either way, we all know when you're a RoboCop, you are 100%
awesome, 100% of the time. See? My Marine Biology degree is
coming in handy. All I needed was a little theme music. Well, I'm
off to wow the crowd on Queen St. with my robot moves and relentlessly logical
interrogation tactics.
Vive le baguette,
COOP
July 19th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Portishead - All Mine (Live)
I went
fishing with my Dad, brother, and nephew, and guess what? Turns out I am a
badass boat driver! I was chartin' fishies on the depth finder,
deftly trawling all around, but these bums couldn't catch all the action I
was throwing their way. So yeah, I got skills on the boat, but I'm
no fisherman either. Which is fine by me 'cos fishermen are smelly
and chew tobacco and have a hook where their hand used to be. I
do like fish though, especially 'cos they have squishy eyeballs that
squish if you poke 'em with a stick. You like sushi? I dare
you to just cut a piece off this big ol' lake trout that we caught.
Now that's fresh fish, bud!! Up here, we eat the eyes...
I also did some pretty mean nude swan dives off the bow of the boat.
The water was freezing but I didn't mind...I just kept right on nude
swimming. That is, until a superhuge LARGEmouth bass
tried to eat my worm. And when I say that this bass was
superhuge, what I really mean is that it was just a tiny rock bass. Rock, bass!
My cat Willis, his breath smells like cat food...
Vive les poisson,
COOP
July 21st,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Ray LaMontagne - Trouble
I'm
goin' to see Ray, I'm goin' to see Ray! Lalalalalala. Meester
LaMontagne is in town next week and I couldn't be happier about it.
His record "Trouble" is absolutely brilliant and beautiful.
It sounds timeless to me. Old music. New, old music.
It's the first record I've picked up in a while that makes me want to
actually get it on vinyl. I've never been a vinyl purist or
anything, it's just that he's got the kind of sound that makes me want to
hole myself up in a basement, sit cross legged with some giant headphones
on and just drift away. If I had an ugly paisley velour couch to sit
on...it'd be all over.
Big Jimmy took us to a ball game last night, and it was absolutely
perfect. Amazing seats, amazing weather, and amazing beers. A
perfect summer evening at the field, it was. There's something about
the way that overpriced beers in plastic cups taste that makes you wanna
keep on drinkin', despite the quickly depleting funds. And it was
Blue, too! I had no money but I was ready to start chargin' rounds
on the ol' Visa. Thank goodness Mrs. Sensible was there to keep my
amped-up, dumb-ass in check.
The Mariners hit quite a few home runs, but the dummies in the outfield
wouldn't throw the balls back. If I caught a home run ball, I'd
chuck that MF back onto the field with such disgust - I'd probably spit on
it and throw my shirt and pants over the edge too. It would be such
a vulgar display, I'd probably get kicked out! Thing is, I don't
even really care, I just know that it's tradition to chuck that shit back.
I'd make my section proud of me, instead of getting booed and heckled like
the losers were all last night. If you did that at a Red Sox game,
you would get killed!! They'd beat you down with beer showers,
condiment assaults, and skewer your pride with Beantown irreverence.
Is it really that important to keep a stupid ball? It'll end up in a
drawer, forgotten by the weekend. Dumbasses. Hell, I was ready
to chuck a foul ball back if it came our way. Screw you and your
foul balls, Mariners! Heh, Mariners have foul balls.
Vive la brasserie;
COOP
July 25th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
The Weakerthans - The Reasons
There's this little parkette I walk through on my way to the
studio. It's a nice little greenspace, with some slides and monkey
bars for the kids, a little wading pool, and a basketball court for da
Inna City Yoots. On my way through this morning, a city worker was
on a ladder putting some brand spankin' new mesh on the hoops. I
thought this was really funny, and of course a complete waste of time.
Have you ever seen a public court with mesh still on the hoops? I
didn't think so. You can get mesh at Canadian Tire or whatever for
like, two bucks, but people steal it like some crazy fool left hundred
dollar bills just lying around. Yoots discover it incredulously: "Ohmygoddude,
look! Mesh! Lift me up, I'm gonna grab it! We can bring
it back to the house." But don't begrudge the yoots, someone else
will just steal it back from
them anyway!! "Ooohlookit, mesh!" Maybe that's the thing -
there's actually only one set of mesh that exists in the entire universe,
and people just keep stealing it from each other. And the cycle
continues....
You may think, well that's the city for you, but in this case it has
nothing to do with it. Even at our public school courts in the small
town I grew up in, exact same thing. I'm telling you, mesh
disappears faster than special brownies at a Phish concert. It's
mesh, not meth.
So I had this idea to play a game: Guess How Long The Mesh Lasts!?
You gimme your wagers, I'll take daily surveillance photos, winner
takes home a nice weekender in Vegas. Superwebsite fun for the whole
family, I was thinking. But here's the kicker, when I
went out at lunchtime the friggin' mesh was already gone!! Gone!
So much for my game, but it does make a better story. I think so
anyway.
Vive le pantalons;
COOP
July 28th,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Shannon Lyon - Barcelona
Big
Ray LaMontagne show tonight.
Shannon Lyon and his band are opening now. How pumped am
I? So pumped that I'm saying it like p-umped. T-otally p-umped.
It's the new style! Well, it's an old style but I'm back on it.
I'm outta here for the long weekend. Have a good one, be safe.
Drink port. Whoops, did I sneak a "be safe" in there? I didn't
mean to. Be wreckless, get some bruises and scrapes, jump off
something......just give 'er!
lata,
C-OOP
August 3rd,
2005...
SONG OF THE DAY:
Van Morrison - Into The Mystic
Hey
Kids, back from a nice long bailout up north. Was great to get away,
but this time I was counting cars instead of stars. Traffic is an
absolute nightmare going north on long weekends. That's not new
information, it's just more obvious when it happens directly to you rather
than seen on the news! Horrible waste of time, fuel, ozone, and brain
cells.
Oh, I got pulled over by the jet ski cops for not wearing a
life jacket in a pedal boat!! A pedal boat, fer chrissakes!! On a lake! In
2 feet of water!!
Wearing no pants! Hehehe, of course I was wearing me trunks...as for
the poached bald eagle and 40oz I had in the back, well that was no problem with
Officer SeaDumb. Breaking news: drunk man in pedal boat mows down
42ft yacht, then helplessly sank to his death. Authorities say his
life could have been spared if only he were wearing a life
preserver.
Last Thursday at the
Ray LaMontagne show, I felt like I witnessed history
in the making. I'm not sure how else to describe it. Ray
transported us back in time, looking like a young Cat Stevens, sounding
like a young Joe Cocker or Van Morrison, weaving the timeless tales of heartbreak and
hardships of his unique life. I couldn't help but wonder if the folks
who witnessed someone like Van the Man before his ascent to stardom felt
special tingles in their toes standing in his presence of his sound.
And it's funny 'cos I don't pictur |
