Monday, March 26, 2007

How's that democracy going for you?

Provincial election today, in Québec. Democracy, right...

Here it's the dictatorship of the bureaucracy. We live in a socialist system that doesn't work, and no matter how much money you put into it, nothing improves. Why? Because socialism doesn't work!! It is expected, in socialism, that everyone will be doing their jobs and no one's gonna fraud. Yet, tons of people don't do their jobs (and they're still getting paid) and people do fraud the government. Injecting more money only encourages more corruption.

I don't believe in any of the politicians showing up. Yet I've voted. I chose the one who's closer to my beliefs. I believe in freedom of choice. For that to exist, we need one thing we do not have today in Québec: options.

Many complain that in their country, I won't name Saudi Arabia for example, they're lacking freedom. That sucks. But it also sucks to have all the freedom you want, yet no choice. I'd love to stay in Québec (well, no, I don't. I want to fuck off). If only it was as nice a place to live as we try to make it out to be.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

I need either a guide, a mentor or a hot girlfriend.

Discuss.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Completely fooled.

Blog-writing, no matter how awesomely unbelievably great it is, is not fulfilling. It's like pussyfooting around literature. It's just not committing to words, no matter how greatly awesome, might I reiterate. A blog is like a story with no end, therefore a growing, yet incomplete work. Completeness bears meaning greater than the meanings of every used words that make up a work.

In all honesty, and in little humility, I am good enough to write stories that, when considered in their entirety, are actually several stories meshed in one, depending on who you are and what you are looking for. My stories are layered in such ways that no two people will appreciate it in the same way. Unfortunately, the entirety of my stories is something very few people know about. Actually, just one, me, because none of my writings have been brought to an acceptable level of completeness just yet. They are complete in my head, but that elusive physical achievement is a self-sufficient monster that grows and guards the doors of my motivation, inhibiting anyone from trying to get to me, and inspire me a will to put out the necessary effort.

Who will come with a sword held high and fearlessly at the monster, daring to go where people have ever only been trapped, never welcomed? Who will joined me to enjoy the beautiful views from my barred windows?

Damned prison, made of laziness and reject. Might I reject it as well, life would be somewhat brighter. But my confinement is self-imposed. It is my answer, or justification, to this social attrition I sometimes draw so much pride from. I guess that, perhaps, a man who thinks solitude rhymes with independance is only fooling himself.

How great can a man be if no one knows him really?

I'm a tree in a forest where there's no one to hear me fall.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

I'm not happy, but I'm not crappy, so I go on.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Working on thin ice

I've worked these past two days. Ah, the beauties of a golf course. It was only what I could perhaps call a punctual assignment, as it wasn't an official return to full-time work. But it was a necessary task, and since I'm not doing anything else, I use it as a replacement for non-existing social life.

So yesterday was fine. It was warm. We had to dig up all the drains so that water from the melting snow can be drained out. Lots of them were covered with ice, under a few feet of snow. But it was easy. Some of them, more interesting, were under a thin sheet of ice, and surrounded by a lake. But I had good rubber boots, and good thick woolen socks, so it was no problem.

Today, we continued, did much of the same thing, with one tiny little difference: instead of being 2 or 3 degrees over 0 (celsius, people, when will you learn), it was 20 under. Oh, and more fun. There's a brook evacuating many drains that was blocked by a path made of beaten snow. It was a dam, that's what it was. So, water couldn't be evacuated. So drains didn't work. So we had to break it down. But it wasn't your regular snow path over a brook in the winter. It was a 40 feet wide dam. And we had to tear it down. AND... I fell twice in it, up to the crotch. -20 degrees, people. Cold water.

But I was wearing a good combination of crappy clothes, each having a different purpose and doing a fine job of it. So, I didn't get totally wet. I didn't get totally cold. I was comfortable. I could work, and I got the job done. We had a laugh. We had a beer. We ate Doritos. I'm glad this is the weekend.

Monday, March 12, 2007

The Scarlet Letter

What if we wore our shame rather than our pride?

"Be true! Be true! Be true! Show freely to the world, if not your worst, yet some trait whereby the worst may be inferred!"
-Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter.

Wouldn't we be more humble? Wouldn't we forgive others with greater ease?

Albert Camus, in the greatest book ever written, suggested that hell should be a street with signs, announcing to would-be consumers what everyone has in store. Who are you really?

Who am I? I guess I'm a half-blind, pretentious fucker who's to afraid to live life.

Sure, I have tons of qualities, and great ones, but aren't we truly defined by our limitations?

There I go, I wear my scarlet letter, and I repeat it for emphasis:

I'm a half-blind, pretentious fucker who's to afraid to live life.

Quote of the day

The intermediate stage between socialism and capitalism is alcoholism.
- Norman Brenner

Saturday, March 10, 2007

My friend Buddy

I met Buddy in Bonifacio, Corsica. He followed for long periods of time spanning over two days, while I walked around the city before leaving for Sardinia. I wish I had taken him with me to Sardinia. But... he was a stinky. He will be remembered as such.


Buddy thought of only two things: eat and play.
He hung around the harbor, never bothering to go within the walls of the fortified city. Probably hoping to get on one of these boats.

We were silent friends. I did call out to him a few times. But he knew, when I walked away, that it was time to follow.

When I left, he probably didn't even look back. I don't think he has kept of photograph of me.


Gone. Done. Over. Blah.

Quote of the day

Everybody lies, but it doesn't matter because nobody listens.
- Nick Diamos

Friday, March 09, 2007

Quotes of the day

Get all the fools on your side and you can be elected to anything.
- Frank Dane

In democracy it's your vote that counts; In feudalism it's your count that votes.
- Mogens Jallberg

The word 'politics' is derived from the word 'poly', meaning 'many', and the word 'ticks', meaning 'blood sucking parasites'.
- Larry Hardiman


Political quotes... how pertinent, quotationspage.com!

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Look who I found...

http://tarheelblue.cstv.com/sports/m-footbl/mtt/rich_richie00.html
I mailed pretty much all my unmailed postcards yesterday, except those I'll deliver in person.

I met my boss as well, talked a little and learned that I'm going to get much more money than I expected in salary this year. So, fine.

Finally, today's my birthday. 24.

Bored.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Good news: Tool, April 27th, pretty much confirmed. Now, all I have to do is wait until the ticket sale begins. Yay!

Bad news: There's not enough air in my right front tire.

Ok, the air in the tire doesn't bother me much. It just sucks to do the "good news" bit when you don't have a bad news to announce along. To be honest, there were tons of bad things I could have said, but I didn't feel like being really pessimistic. For once, at least.

I have to start setting myself optimistic goals. My problem, though, is motivation. I have tons of goals, just none makes me want to outdo myself or only even move my ass some.

I have to start training a little. Strengthen my back, at least. Also add some flexibility to my articulations, especially the shoulders. I've had tendinitis problems in the last few years, but with proper training, stretching and strengthening, I can get rid of that. I want to be in good shape. Not to look good, because a great body hardly helps making an unattractive whole be looked at differently. Just to feel good. No more back problems, shoulders. Breathe better. Sleep better. In all of today's diets, physical exercize and good sleeping are unduely overlooked. That's what I want. That's how I want my body to work for the next half a century. The goal: be able to run around with my grandchildren, if I ever get some.

But where's the motivation? Hypothetical grandchildren? Me, a guy who can't even look a girl in the eyes and ask her out... I know I should make the effort in order to deserve the result, but instead, I look for a fairly certain result, then only can i work upon achieving something. I'm a weird guy.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

I'm on a posting spree

Third post today!
Now, I just have to let go of this excitement building up within. I will soon go to my first real concert: TOOL!

They were supposed to come to Québec city on April 27th, but Danny Carey tore his biceps in a fight (yeah, a fight). It will be reschedules, I think, and I'm definitely going. I have to find someone to go with, because it sucks to go to a show alone.

Tool has been my favorite band, since the beginning of the 21st century, at least. When I heard the news yesterday, I was all excited, and mostly shocked. I want to buy my ticket! NOW! They're not on sale yet.

You see, I can't even write anything even slightly interesting. I sound like a schoolboy on a holiday.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSJXV0ZJ4JQ
Ticks and leeches - Tool
To all you australian photographs out there: I know what you did last summer!

Actually I don't, but I wanted to be 100% unoriginal, and I did it in a 100% original way.

I like to be cryptic at times. People could argue that I'm cryptic all the time, but that's not true. I'm a very honest and frank person. It could be said that I destined to frankness, bearing such a name, and crowning myself of such a nickname as The Frankness. My silliness of bygone days now sounds pretentious. Where's the line between stupid and arrogant?

Question better left unanswered (the politically correct thing to say when you're just too lazy to find an answer).

Talking about politically correctness. There's an election campaign raging in Québec. Just when I come back from 45 days in europe... It just makes me want to leave again. It's such a stupid campaign, driven by "smart" people taking people for idiots. It's a shame to see that it's always the way it worked, that it works again, and will work for generations to come. I guess I found out during my trip that there's no running away from political hell, as it's the same thing everywhere. The only way not to be affected by it all is to not care at all, and that's not something I can do. I'm concerned. It seems that I must now admit that I'm shamefully patriotic. But I think I could be patriotic anywhere in the world. Now that I've been to italy and returned, I still follow the Prodi saga. And here, two successive election campaigns: first in Québec, then the entire country.

Signed,


French Canadian Elitist Bastard.

Words mean something

I photographed almost every postcard I wrote during my trip. They were mostly my memories, not those of the people I sent them to. By the way, Aliya, don't read this one, it's yours and I haven't mailed it yet.

I know my postcards probably won't have changed anybody's life. The first part of my novel probably hasn't changed anyone's life yet. Why write and be so inconsequential? My metaphors probably hide my messages.

I can make her laugh, but whoever said that to seduce a girl, just make her laugh, is wrong. I make girls laugh all the time, yet none is really willing to give me a shot. Some say they would date me, if they weren't 2000-6000km away, or didn't already have a boyfriend. Yeah, right.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Quote of the day

In physics, you don't have to go around making trouble for yourself - nature does it for you.
- Frank Wilczek

Saturday, March 03, 2007

The Angel of Death


This piece of art was one of those who fascinated me the most during my trip. I saw many artists of the Renaissance that I really like, like Boticelli, Signorelli and Michangelo, but this one that I don't even know who is its author really made me stop. To be honest, it surprised me. It's in the Chiesa di San Pietro di Vincoli, in Roma.

Roma is a city extremely concerned with its image of holiness, even though it's equally, if not more, bloody and barbaric than it is christian and holy. I don't know why people try to hide its duality, while it could be exploited in a much more interesting way.

That statue, this angel of death, sparked an inner monologue within me. Since I was in a city that considered itself holy in many capacities, I wondered whether one city in this world could claim the title of "evil" city (and since one of the chapter of my novel is titled 'City of Evil', this debate was particularly important and fascinating to me). Roma just doesn't cut it as evil, in my opinion. I considered all the cities I've seen, and none qualifies as evil. Every city has its shiny moments, its liveliness. I guess good and evil are really just how we perceive things and places, or people for that matter. To me, Venice had a pretty gloomy look, perhaps only because the streets were empty, I was hungry, disappointed, sad, lonely, depressive and the sky was cloudy, and the canals foggy and smelly. I imagine well a deserted street of Venice haunted by a serial killer. It would be the perfect set-up. Venice is still a medieval city, that has never adjusted to modernity, because of a lack of space. It's a good thing, in my opinion. But Venice isn't an evil city. It would be perhaps, if its past wasn't so rich and glorious.

I can't put my finger on that elusive city of evil. One that would advertise itself as such, one that'd give you either chills or amazement, or both. I guess the closest to that we could find would be Nazi death camps. But it just feels wrong and morbid to be fascinated by such a place. A city is made evil by its inhabitants, who are evil, not crazy. Hitler was crazy, out of phase. Not evil. He probably thought he was doing good. True evil is selfish. It is one man's tool for his own service. Not a bunch of men's tool for a "higher" purpose, in their minds. I don't know.

Maybe a true city of evil doesn't really exist, just as Roma isn't a true holy city of God anyway. It's one big monument to human ego.

Friday, March 02, 2007

Pics

Corsica is awesome. The french are annoying, but Corsica is amazing.


Bonifacio, Corsica. One of the most beautiful place on earth.

If I was to be a stray dog, like my friend Buddy, I'd get lost in Corsica as well.


Alghero, Sardinia. The Mediterranean Sea at its most mesmerizing.
Trequanda, Tuscany, lost in the fog. Yes, there's a village in there. That day, I doubt they saw the sun.


Trequanda, on one of its shiniest days. Remember, people, that was in the middle of winter.

Thursday, March 01, 2007


Wherever we go, we always find things to make us laugh, don't we? The very nature of man is generally laughable.
Why do I hide myself when I laugh? Some of you may have noticed already, those who have seen me laugh. Why do I avoid eye contact? Is it just an attempt not to be read like a book. Somewhat ironic, because then I just go off and write a book that displays my nature under all of its angles. I mock myself. I blame myself. I also talk of myself with lots of reverence. I'm fair in my description of who I am... but with a delay.
I show myself, who I really am, but I give myself some time to run for cover, then people read me, and I'm nowhere to be found when it's time to be confronted. Or if I'm to be addressable, then it's through some mechanism that allows me similar flexibility and cover. Have I ever been honest with someone, face to face? Would it make a difference in the result?

Back in Québec

I'm back. I'm gettin reaccustomed to my laptop. I'm tired. I don't know what to think yet. I'll get back to you on that.

I have postcards I couldn't mail, because when I purchased stamps, I realized they were larger than the area left to put them on. So I will send the left-overs in bunches. Don't worry. You will get them.