Last week, the world — for those paying attention, that is — witnessed a tale of two cities occur. Between Detroit (The legitimate USSF) and Toronto (The ill-legitimate G20). And the tale couldn’t be more diverse. “Competing Ideologies,” if you will?
Tag: Repression
Interesting Times Are ‘Underfoot’
In the past couple of days, quite possibly yesterday, Michael Moore released his latest film, Slackers United, for free on the internet. And I parked myself in front of my computer and watched it last evening. I have to give the man props for this gesture. Thank you kindly, Mike.
And I was left a number of strong impressions. A few good, mostly bad…
There’s Always Next Year
Yesterday represented my first real “break” in writing on a daily basis. And 6 days short of full month! Aside from that fart, on August the 23rd, I’ve posted every single day since August 12th. Quite a stretch. But with my vacation over, I’m right back at it today.
So my “time off” was spent trekking into the city to attend the 24th Annual Vegetarian Food Fair in Toronto. It’s been quite some time since I’ve actually been to the city, a few years at least, and it felt oddly visceral. It was the same but it wasn’t?Â
I have no idea why either… Continue reading There’s Always Next Year
No-One Listens To Me
My last post, Soothing pulled a lot outta my head yesterday. I would be remiss not to mention something that made laugh aloud while drifting off to sleep last evening. Question: Is it coincidence Aamen is part or the focus of my most prized memories while booze was anywhere within, say a 25 foot radius of him? Obvious answer: No it’s not.
I was reminded of this incident merely cos The Satanic Surfers were the last band I saw, or I remember seeing prior to my accident.
One night in mid-June, I’d guess Aamen and I piled into my family’s awaiting wiener red Cavalier and drove into the city to catch one of my favorite bands. Even today not much can touch the early to mid Surfers material. I digress, on the way we picked up Trouble and Mel, then subsequently made our way to 735 Queen Street East (wow, I remembered!). Continue reading No-One Listens To Me