Saturday, January 31, 2009

Napoleon and Candyman say...

Chew on this, you mother fuckers!!!!!!!!

Friday, January 30, 2009

Une Question de Feeling

R : Deux étrangers qui se rencontrent
Dans l'ascenseur déjà le désir monte

F : Deux étrangers qui se rencontrent
Stoppant leur course contre la montre
Seuls, tout seuls au bout du monde

R : Seul, là-haut dans cet hôtel de verre
Ça commence comme un fait divers
Je t'ai offert

F : Un verre
J'ai allumé ta cigarette
L'alcool me montait à la tête

R : Les yeux dans les yeux

F : On a ouvert le feu

R : Y a trois milliards d'humains sur terre
Et combien de cœurs solitaires
Pourquoi nous deux

R+F :Pourquoi nous et pas eux
C'est une question de feeling

F : C'est une question de feeling

R : Question de feeling
Dans l'infini universel

F : Nos deux vies parallèles

R : Parallèles
Se sont croisées ce soir
Le jour se lève
C'est comme un rêve
Un rêve qui s'achève

F : Moi j'ai envie de te revoir
C'est une question de feeling

R : Question de feeling
C'est une question de feeling

F : Question de feeling

R+F : Deux étrangers qui se rencontrent
Stoppant leur course contre la montre
Question de feeling
Coup de poker
Y a trois milliards d'humains sur terre
Et combien de cœurs solitaires
Question de feeling

R : C'est une question de feeling

F : Question de feeling
C'est une question de feeling

R : Question de feeling

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Cloaca No 5

Anyone hear of this ?

Its a shit machine. You feed it food and it processes it just like a real stomach and then it shits it. I find it most interesting. Its at Uqam for a month. They paid 30000.00$ for it, and because of this, our clever "journalists" at Journal de Montreal tried to feed the outrage it would cause because of the financial state Uqam is in.
Titled in the journal: "L'UQAM se paye une machine à caca." These are the same assholes who are asking for a raise or something. I hope they all lose their job.
Anyways, you can tell the artist who made this truly knows his art.
Says the father of this artificial food processor: "L'art, c'est quelque chose qui ne sert à rien. Pour moi, un artiste, c'est quelqu'un qui n'est pas nécessaire, qui s'amuse, qui gaspille son temps."
That ought to get the idiots at JDM excited.

Jelly Fish!

Man, I've seen this shockumentary yesterday and I'm telling you, I've had a hard time sleeping last night. The end is upon us my friends. The end is coming. I'm glad I'll be there when it does. I think possibly around the 30's, when we're in our 50's.

you dont believe them?
watch this shit!


Who knew Kanye West would have such a hot blog?

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

On Cars (Part 1)

I don’t hate cars. I think they are an awe-inspiring invention. Immensely practical, they provide mobility for countless people. They’ve pushed the limits of human inventiveness.

That being said, I hate the saturation of our cities with cars.

Since their invention, they’ve been accompanied time and time again with incompetent mismanagement which bordered on the criminal. There are simply too many cars on the road. I would think that 73% of cars on the road, at any time of the day, are not being used out of necessity. Most of its use is due to sloth, pure and simple. Also, to a misguided sense of its advantages.

Without even mentioning pollution, one of the main problems is the space cars take. Compare a human taking public transportation. Compare a person walking. Compare a citizen riding a bike. A single person in a car takes more space than each of these examples and by several orders of magnitude. Think not only of the physical space occupied by a car. Think also of all the space needed around it for a minimum of safety. Next time you are in building which affords you a view on a busy street, look at the moving cars and the space between them. All around them. Immense. Waste.

And therein lies the ridiculous part of the automobile in the city. I mention the city because in the countryside, a car is a different beast and I will not get into it at this time. My hate, or rather frustration lies in the car and the city and their current ridiculous combination. The more public transportation is used, the better it gets for everyone. The more cars are used, the worse it gets for everyone. It’s that simple of an equation.

Higher use of public transport leads to a higher frequency and a wider network. More time gained. Higher use of personal cars leads to more congestion. More time lost. More sanity lost. More environmental damage. More life lost.

This simple inefficiency should make business-oriented people agree with me. I can understand businessmen and politicians in other regions being beholden to the car and its industries. However, the last car-manufacturing plant in Quebec closed shop what must be 10 years ago. And even then, it was producing a marginal vehicle. In the meantime, there are lots of manufacturers (and their money and jobs) of public transportation vehicles as well of bicycles in Quebec. Why does mentioning this feel slightly rebellious? It’s the truth after all.

Cars are a blight on our city, which would only be made fairer with stricter car circulation rules. Imagine St-Laurent permanently pedestrian. What about St-Denis? What a poster-child for the beautification that would follow the banishing of the car!

In the end, I’m not arguing for cars to be banned from the city. I desire their vastly lessened presence. In my interest. In everyone’s interest. In your interest.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

So intense...

I found this photo on the Radio-Canada website. I've been staring at it for a while now and I seriously can't stop laughing. I keep picturing the same scene:

Gilles timidly reaches for Jack's hand. Jack takes control, squeezing Gilles dainty little fingers into his. Gilles wants to look into Jack's eyes, but he can't. He knows he's not strong enough to handle the pheonix lurking beneath those shallow lipid pools. The music starts. For an instance Gilles wonders what Jack's moustache would feel like gently caressing the small of his back; but he shakes away the thought. "No distractions": he thinks to himself. "I must concentrate". In a heartbeat, Jack whisps him across the dancefloor. The Tango has begun.

Stupor Bowl

So, are we all going to Napoleon's?

It's this Sunday.

The Craw

Although they offer considerable amounts of styles, Craws are fundamentally flawed weapons. Yes, craws are flawed. First, because you can only whip them one way. The other way you're just caressing your ennemies cheeks with the craw's smooth convex side. Second, craws are flawed because of their low range, and their small volume and weight make for low impact damage. Of course to this you'll reply that it's compensated with the craw's ripping damage, but what if your foe is wearing an anti-craw jacket? Even the thinnest chain mail will protect against any kind of craw.

The CrawMaster 3000 : good looking, just not reliable.

Because Craws are attached to the fighter's arm, which is another flaw, the fighter loses it if he loses his arm. To better make my point, lets take a look at those ill advised fighters who've chosen the Craw as their primary weapon.
Shredder chose to shred using mainly some craws attached on his hands. How many times did he win against the turtles? 0. Freddy used the craw to try to obliterate Jason. Who won? I dont know, I havent seen that piece of shit movie. All I know is it certainly didnt do any good for the Craw's reputation.
Raptors used the craw and for this they were deemed by many as the coolest dinosaurs ever (because craws look good). How many raptors left alive to this day? 0.

The Craw is flawed.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Yet another rant against winter (well, not quite)

Dont get me wrong. I love winter.
Especially because it killed Descartes.
This is rather indirectly against winter.
Here goes :
You know, I've got enough problems with life as it is. I mean, I can deal with the bus drivers that never respect their schedule, I can live with the fact that more people vote for reality tv than for provincial elections, I can stand my cat puking on my clothes every now and then, and I can even do with my stupid friends whose idea of a good time is to spend the night in a tent at -32 degrees on top of a mountain. But one thing I refuse to take no more are those blasted eardrum tearing, mind crushing, grandma raping towtrucks with their fucking sirens. They give me fucking balls zits everytime I hear them and now I cant see my scrotum no more. Just take the fucking cars and go! We dont need to know you're working! Just leave! Take the bloody car !

So Candyman, could you get one of those name list of yours going and send it to mayor Tremblay so he tells those towtrucks to stop using their psychosis inducing sirens, we would all be better off, even the deaf people, I'm pretty sure they can feel the waves of agression sent by those harvesters of anxiety.

Here's my name : Nerdlord Of The NES.

Long, yet Savoury Text

Bon annniversaire, Marc. Le 5 février 2009, tu fêteras tes vingt-neuf ans. Tu permets qu’on se tutoie, Marc ? Tu ne me connais pas, c’est vrai. Mais moi, je te connais très bien. C’est sur toi qu’est tombée la (mal)chance d’être le premier portrait Google du Tigre. Une rubrique toute simple : on prend un anonyme et on raconte sa vie grâce à toutes les traces qu’il a laissées, volontairement ou non sur Internet. Comment ça, un message se cache derrière l’idée de cette rubrique ? Évidemment : l’idée qu’on ne fait pas vraiment attention aux informations privées disponibles sur Internet, et que, une fois synthétisées, elles prennent soudain un relief inquiétant. Mais sache que j’ai plongé dans ta vie sans arrière-pensée : j’adore rencontrer des inconnus. Je préfère te prévenir : ce sera violemment impudique, à l’opposé de tout ce qu’on défend dans Le Tigre. Mais c’est pour la bonne cause ; et puis, après tout, c’est de ta faute : tu n’avais qu’à faire attention.

J’ai eu un peu peur, au début, d’avoir un problème de source. Pas par manque : par trop-plein. À cause des homonymes : il y a au moins cinq autres Marc L*** sur le site Copains d’avant. Mais tu n’y es pas : ce doit être une affaire de génération, à la fin des années 1990 et au début des années 2000, les gens s’inscrivaient massivement sur Copains d’avant et renseignait leur parcours scolaire, pour retrouver les copains du CM1. C’était avant Facebook. Ah, Facebook... Mais n’allons pas trop vite. Je t’ai rencontré, cher Marc, sur Flickr, cette immense banque d’images qui permet de partager ses photos avec ses amis (une fonction que Facebook s’est empressé de copier, soit dit en passant). Pour trouver un inconnu dont je ferai le portrait, j’ai tapé « voyage » avec l’idée de tomber directement sur un bon « client » comme disent les journalistes, puisque capable de poster ses photos de voyages. Je t’ai vite trouvé : il faut dire que tu aimes bien Flickr, où tu as posté plus de dix-sept mille photos en moins de deux ans. Forcément, j’avais des chances d’y trouver tes photos.

Alors, Marc. Belle gueule, les cheveux mi-longs, le visage fin et de grands yeux curieux. Je parle de la photo prise au Starbuck’s Café de Montréal, lors de ton voyage au Canada, avec Helena et Jose, le 5 août 2008. La soirée avait l’air sympa, comme d’ailleurs tout le week-end que vous avez passé à Vancouver. J’aime particulièrement cette série, parce que Jose a fait des photos, et ça me permet de te voir plus souvent. Vous avez loué un scooter, vous êtes allés au bord de la mer, mais vous ne vous êtes pas baignés, juste traîné sur la plage. En tout, tu as passé un mois au Canada. Au début tu étais seul, à l’hôtel Central, à Montréal (série de photos « autour de mon hôtel »). Tu étais là-bas pour le travail. Le travail ? Tu es assistant au « service d’architecture intérieur », dans un gros cabinet d’architectes, LBA, depuis septembre dernier (Facebook, rubrique Profil). Le cabinet a des succursales dans plusieurs villes, et a priori tu dois travailler dans la succursale de Pessac, dans la banlieue de Bordeaux. Ça, je l’ai trouvé par déduction, vu que tu traînes souvent à l’Utopia (cinéma et café bordelais) ou à Arcachon. Donc à Montréal, tu étais dans un bureau avec Steven, Philipp, Peter, en train de travailler sur des plans d’architectes, devant deux ordinateurs, un fixe et un portable. En agrandissant la photo, on peut même voir que tu avais un portable Packard-Bell et que tu utilisais des pages de brouillon comme tapis de souris. Je n’ai pas dit que c’était passionnant, j’ai dit qu’on pouvait le voir. Le 21 août, c’est Steven qui t’a accompagné à l’aéroport. Retour en France, où t’attendait un mariage (Juliette et Dominique), puis, la semaine suivante, le baptême de ta nièce, Lola, la petite sœur de Luc (qui fait des têtes rigolotes avec ses grosses lunettes), à Libourne.

Revenons à toi. Tu es célibataire et hétérosexuel (Facebook). Au printemps 2008, tu as eu une histoire avec Claudia R***, qui travaille au Centre culturel franco-autrichien de Bordeaux (je ne l’ai pas retrouvée tout de suite, à cause du caractère ü qu’il faut écrire ue pour Google). En tout cas, je confirme, elle est charmante, petits seins, cheveux courts, jolies jambes. Tu nous donnes l’adresse de ses parents, boulevard V*** à Bordeaux. Vous avez joué aux boules à Arcachon, et il y avait aussi Lukas T***, qui est le collègue de Claudia au Centre Culturel. Fin mai, il n’y a que quatre photos, anodines, de ton passage dans le petit appartement de Claudia (comme si tu voulais nous cacher quelque chose) et une autre, quelques jours plus tard, plus révélatrice, prise par Claudia elle-même, chez elle : on reconnaît son lit, et c’est toi qui es couché dessus. Habillé, tout de même. Sur une autre, tu te brosses les dents. C’est le 31 mai : deux jours plus tôt, vous étiez chez Lukas « pour fêter les sous de la CAF » (une fête assez sage, mais Lukas s’est mis au piano pour chanter des chansons en allemand, tout le monde a bien ri, vidéo sur Flickr). Ce 31 mai, vous avez une façon de vous enlacer qui ne laisse que peu de doutes. Et le 22 juin, cette fois c’est sûr, vous vous tenez par la main lors d’une petite promenade au Cap-Ferret. C’est la dernière fois que j’ai eu des nouvelles de Claudia. Note bien que j’ai son numéro au travail (offre d’emploi pour un poste d’assistant pédagogique au Centre culturel, elle s’occupe du recrutement), je pourrais l’appeler. Mais pour raconter une séparation, même Internet a des limites. Avant Claudia, tu étais avec Jennifer (ça a duré au moins deux ans), qui s’intéressait à l’art contemporain (vous avez visité ensemble Beaubourg puis tu l’as emmenée au concert de Madonna à Bercy). Elle a habité successivement Angers puis Metz, son chat s’appelle Lula, et, physiquement, elle a un peu le même genre que Claudia. À l’été 2006, vous êtes partis dans un camping à Pornic, dans une Golf blanche. La côte Atlantique, puis la Bretagne intérieure. Tu avais les cheveux courts, à l’époque, ça t’allait moins bien.

On n’a pas parlé de musique. À la fin des années 1990, tu as participé au groupe Punk, à l’époque où tu habitais Mérignac (à quelques kilomètres de Bordeaux). Il reste quelques traces de son existence, sur ton Flicker bien sûr mais aussi dans les archives Google de la presse locale. Tu sais quoi ? C’est là que j’ai trouvé ton numéro de portable : 06 83 36 ** **. Je voulais vérifier si tu avais gardé le même numéro depuis 2002. Je t’ai appelé, tu as dit : « Allô ? », j’ai dit : « Marc ? », tu as dit : « C’est qui ? », j’ai raccroché. Voilà : j’ai ton portable. L’article disait : « Pour les Punk, l’année 2001 a été révélatrice. Leader du premier concours rock, ils sont pris en charge par l’association bordelaise Domino, qui propose, pour une formation, un accompagnement de groupes de musiques actuelles. Devant plus de 700 spectateurs, ils se sont produits également à l’Olympia d’Arcachon pour un grand concert. » Mais 2002 semble être la dernière année d’existence du groupe - on imagine comment tout ça s’est fini, tu es parti à Montpellier à l’université (Facebook, rubrique Formation), les autres ont sans doute continué leurs études ici ou là... Mais tu vois, il ne faut jamais désespérer, parce qu’avec Michel M***, le guitariste, vous avez joué à nouveau, le 19 juin 2007 au Café Maritime, à Bordeaux. Il y a une petite vidéo où je t’ai entendu chanter, rien de transcendantal mais enfin c’est honnête. Et puis avec Dom, vous vous êtes remis à jouer ensemble, puisque dans les rues de Nantes, lors de la fête de la musique 2008, vous avez fait un spectacle, spectacle que vous aviez répété la veille chez lui et sa copine, Carine T***. Dom, c’est Dominique F***, il est thésard à Bordeaux III. Beau sujet, « Ni là-bas ni ici », une sociologie de la fin de vie des migrants. Tiens, bizarrement c’est en faisant des recherches sur lui que j’ai découvert que tu avais aussi une page sur YouTube, pour les vidéos. Et que, début 2008, tu étais en Italie (jusqu’au 27 mars, où tu filmes ton retour à Bordeaux dans un marché couvert). J’avoue manquer d’informations sur ce que tu faisais à Rome : sans doute pour du travail, parce qu’on voit que tu es installé avec ton ordinateur dans un appartement (belle vue, au demeurant). Tu as fait la fête avec Philippe S***, et chanté le jour de la Saint-Valentin au Gep Wine bar.

J’ai triché, une fois : pour avoir accès à ton profil Facebook (ce qui m’a bien aidé pour la suite), j’ai créé un faux profil et je t’ai proposé de devenir mon « ami ». Méfiant, tu n’as pas dit « oui », à la différence de Helena C*** dont j’ai pu admirer le « mur », là où tout le monde laisse des petits messages. Mais tu m’as répondu. En anglais, bizarrement : « Hi Who are you ? Regards Marc » Je m’apprêtais à inventer un gros mensonge, comme quoi j’étais fan de Vancouver et que j’avais beaucoup aimé tes photos de là-bas, mais au moment de te répondre, Facebook m’a prévenu : « Si vous envoyez un message à Marc L***, vous lui donnez la permission de voir votre liste d’amis, ainsi que vos informations de base, de travail et d’éducation pour un mois. » Je me suis dit que la réciproque était vraie, et je n’ai donc pas eu besoin de te répondre pour avoir accès aux informations de base. Au passage, j’ai découvert que Facebook propose une solution pour éviter les captcha, les petits textes à taper pour prouver qu’on n’est pas un robot : c’est très simple, il suffit de donner son numéro de portable au site pour qu’il vérifie qu’on existe vraiment. Et voilà : il restait une dernière information que Facebook n’avait pas, dépêchons-nous de la lui donner.

Je pense à l’année 1998, il y a dix ans, quand tout le monde fantasmait déjà sur la puissance d’Internet. Le Marc L*** de l’époque, je n’aurais sans doute rien ou presque rien trouvé sur lui. Là, Marc, j’ai trouvé tout ce que je voulais sur toi. J’imagine ton quotidien, ta vie de jeune salarié futur architecte d’intérieur, ton plaisir encore à faire de la musique avec tes potes à Bordeaux, tes voyages à l’autre bout du monde, ta future petite copine (je parie qu’elle aura les cheveux courts). Mais il me manque une chose : ton adresse. Dans ces temps dématérialisés, où mails et téléphones portables tiennent lieu de domiciliation, ça me pose un petit problème : comment je fais pour t’envoyer Le Tigre ? Je sais que tu es avenue F***, mais il me manque le numéro, et tu n’es pas dans les pages jaunes. Cela dit, je peux m’en passer. Il suffit que je ne te l’envoie pas, ton portrait : après tout, tu la connais déjà, ta vie.

Original here

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Continuing with Street Fighter and raped children...

For saturday, if ever we cant run faster than the horses.

and the argument saying the police ties your hands in your back doesnt stand cause when I got arrested, there was this guy who showed us how to get your hands back in front by bending your knees in an exagerated fashion so you can pull your hands from under your legs back in front. So bring your pins.

Saturday Night Plans!

Hey guys!

Wanna have fun! F-U-N! Fun!


Nerdlord and I are going to camp on the Mont-Royal Saturday evening. Who wants in?

Also, even if you don't want to do the whole shebang, you can just join us for ''chilling'' out.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Barack Obama Speech

The first speech I ever saw Barack Obama make is the following. Not quite a speech, but still. To put you in context, it was WAY before the primaries, when nobody had announced their candidature.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Oh no....

They did it again. Why do they keep doing this!?!? Leave my childhood alone!!!!

Check out this piece of shit.

Friday, January 16, 2009

A paradox

What kind of life do I lead where I don't fit in with either francos or anglos? In the midst of our recent Quebec bashing, I can't help but appreciate this part of the Bye-Bye that bashes the west. The virulence is wholly felt. I feel like a two-sided xenophobe. 'On va 'es avoir, les anglas!'

Thursday, January 15, 2009

for all of youze freezing your ass off in montreal... enjoy this sun trip.

Avaaz petition

With over 1000 Palestinians and 13 Israelis killed and the death toll mounting daily as the Gaza offensive escalates, we're urgently demanding action to end the violence and protect civilians.

Sign the petition below calling for robust international action to achieve an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and take further crucial steps toward a fair and lasting peace in the Middle East -- we've made progress at the Security Council but the Gaza violence is still escalating -- our message and numbers signing will be published in US ads (opposite) and delivered to key powers in the coming days:

Sign petition here

If you ever plan to trick a Russian, think again.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Speaking of Discussions...

This part of Bye-Bye 2008 has caused quite a stir.

I just noticed the Youtube comments and they're on FIRE! Even by Youtube standards. It's just that it's so funny watching Quebecers defend themselves in broken English.

Sample insult: ''son of the King's bitch i.e(for the unilingual) fils de pute du roi...''

Fuck, whoever wrote that must be from St-Alphonse-de-Mistaquoi.

Small and Smaller

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


Dear Sycophantic Backstabber.

You evidently do not recall the aforementioned art night. You never claimed that Kampala was in Uganda. I did! I never said it was in Kenya. For the life of me, I can't remember what country you claimed Kampala was in.... Mauritania? Mali? who knows. but 100% not Uganda.

I've been wrongly accused!

We're in a fight.

Conflicting Reference

I did a little cross-checking of Sycho's facts and I came across a little map of my own. Apparently, he was wrong.

Why do we always have to wait for the japanese to make the future?

Honour Saved!

'Twas a few weeks ago a gaggle of us were up to merrymaking and art creation. At one point, I made yet another astute example, this time, concerning Kampala, a city in Uganda.

In an exagerated fashion (I suspect she was inebriated) Woody cruelly corrected me and told the gaggle that Kampala was actually in Kenya. She said it with such authority that none dared question her, least of all myself.

But lo, and behold, it turns out the city of Kampala is not only found in Uganda, it is that republic's very capital!

Direct your attention to the map below and take a gander at the center-bottom of the country, you will find a white star in a red circle (this is African for capital). On top and associated to this Africanese symbol, you'll see the word Kampala. My PhD in Afriken (this is how the locals write it) Map Reading allows me to determine that Kampala is indeed the capital of Uganda.

Further research confirmed that Kampala was in Uganda. Witness:

The case is closed, as they say.

Ultimate Karaoke Song

Two previous ones are disqualified.
JD - if you cant find it on a karaoke list, then its not a karaoke song.
DefLep - Nobody likes to sing a song on which you cant even airdrum properly. One armed air drumming sucks.

Karaoke! bis

There can only be one best karaoke song and that is without a shadow of a doubt Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division

And that it is so rare to find on a karaoke list only adds to its supreme appeal.

Monday, January 12, 2009

speaking from experience: best song to sing karaoke to

You're all guaranteed to bring the house down with this favorite. I felt like the demolition woman.

BBQ Fever!

As you all know, last week, Candyman and I went up the mountain and cooked some sausages. It was great. I want to do it again. Of course, it does not have to involve sausages, but sausages are a great vehicle for flavour and are easy to eat and prepare.

I was thinking we could hit the old port this week. I singled out two spots. Spot A is sweet. Spot B is better, but I question how my non-bike-enabled friends will deal.

Wadaya say?

Also, time is ticking on winter camping. Who wants in? We're about to set a date.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Aurores boréales

Saviez-vous que les aurores boréales étaient en fait les manifestations du balaiement des vents solaires par le champ magnétique émis par le centre de la terre ?
Fascinant n'est-ce pas ?

Et apparemment, malgré que pendant toute ma jeunesse on m'ait prétendu le contraire, ils savent ce qui a tué les dinosaures.


Pourquoi qui l'ont pas protégé le Rocket, hein?

pourquoi qui le traitait comme de la marde?



Worst decision ever made.

I was watching this excellent war movie Letters From Iwo Jima when suddenly it struck me.
I know a bit of world history and I've read some war books, Kissinger's stories and some on the seven year war among others (by the way, next year will be the sad 250th anniversary of the falling of Montreal to the damned english, a date I should like to celebrate by attacking anglos in the city, for whom I've continually fostered an unremitting hatred since the day I was born)

So anyways, as I was watching this intense movie, I thought about the worst decisions that have ever been taken in the history of mankind, in terms of bodycounts and other horrors that followed.

It seems to me that no decision seems to have been more ill advised than the one taken by the japanese officer who ordered the attack on Pearl Harbor. That guy was a serious lunatic. And I'm not just taking into account the two bombs. Japan got hard core fucked up previous to those. They litteraly burned the whole fucking country before nuking it.

Recess : Find a decision which, to your understanding, was the worst ever in the history of the world.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Deadbeat Poetry

Where's me brain?
Its 3 in the p.m
I just woke up
Where's me brain?
Told my friend I' d help
him move his fridge.
Instead I slept.
Where's me brain?
Girlfriend's gone in New-York
I wouldnt jerk off to bjork.
But I might, cause I'm crying.

The Wrestler is a helluva movie. ..

if only for Marisa Tomei...

I'm ever so glad to have seen that woman dance on a 60 ft wide screen...

A helluva movie.

Thursday, January 8, 2009



I went to comedian André Sauvé's show yesterday. Ups and downs, but overall a very fun show. Talks a lot about mental issues. And he knows his stuff since he was a therapist before. Speaking of mental,At one point, he even managed to make poetry fun. And by mental and poetry, I mean Émile Nelligan. Here was the excerpt in question:

Ah! comme la neige a neigé!
Ma vitre est un jardin de givre.
Ah! comme la neige a neigé!
Qu'est-ce que le spasme de vivre
A la douleur que j'ai, que j'ai.


This quote won't open any of your eyes, but I felt it was a nice refresher on the politics of brutality.

''Terrorism is a normative term which is used to describe what the 'other' does, not what 'we' do.

Powerful nations such as Israel, the US, Russia or China will always describe their victims' struggle as terrorism.

However, they fail to acknowledge as acts of terror the destruction of Chechnya, the slow slaughter of the remaining Palestinians, the repression of Tibetans, and the US occupation of Iraq and Afghanistan.

Normative rules and what is legal and permissible are determined by the powerful. They formulate the concept of terrorism in normative terms and make it appear as if a neutral court derived such definitions instead of the oppressors.

For the weak to resist becomes illegal by definition.

This excessive use of legal jargon actually undermines the fundamentals of what is truly legal and diminishes the credibility of international institutions such as the UN. The law becomes the enemy of those who struggle.

It becomes apparent that the powerful - those who make the rules - insist on legality merely to preserve the power relations that serve them or to maintain their occupation and colonialism.''

Full story

In the midst of all this caca, my mind veared to this song. Never fails to leave me vaklempt.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

not a picture, but still, pretty funny. (for porn)

Uploaded by argenor


I challenge anybody to think a funnier picture that was taken in this year that is new. Taken on January 1st, it started the year with a bang! BBC story.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009


My words of the month are the following:


i.e. I drank too much last night, ergo I'm hungover as shit today.


Amalgamation of traits. i.e. what a girl told me at new year eve's: I would have remembered your phenotype. Too bad I can't remember her name! Damn! (I must add that it was used in a French conversation and the word sounds a lot better in French.)

Monday, January 5, 2009

Hey Nerdlord

Here's that blog you were asking me about. We should probably put a link to it on this page.


Burning Gaza and Dead Palestinian Children


Dear Nerdlord of the NES

You difficult fuck.

How about this deal: Badminton. 30$. 12 weeks. 1 hour per week. 7501 joseph-françois perrault, montreal, H2A 1M1.

1) Israel's existence is not at stake and hasn't been so for decades, if it ever was, regardless of the many de rigueur militant statements by Middle East leaders over the years. If Israel would learn to deal with its neighbors in a non-expansionist, non-military, humane, and respectful manner, engage in full prisoner exchanges, and sincerely strive for a viable two-state (if not one-state) solution, even those who are opposed to the idea of a state based on a particular religion could accept the state of Israel, and the question of its right to exist would scarcely arise in people's minds. But as it is, Israel still uses the issue as a justification for its behavior, as Jews all over the world use the Holocaust and conflating anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism.
2) In a conflict between a thousand-pound gorilla and a mouse, it's the gorilla who has to make concessions in order for the two sides to progress to the next level. What can the Palestinians offer in the way of concession? Israel would reply to that question: "No violent attacks of any kind." But that would leave the status quo ante bellum -- a life of unmitigated misery for the occupied, captive Palestinian people, confined to the world's largest open air concentration camp.
It is a wanton act of collective punishment that is depriving the Palestinians of food, electricity, water, money, access to the outside world ... and sleep. Israel has been sending jets flying over Gaza at night triggering sonic booms, traumatizing children. "I want nobody to sleep at night in Gaza," declared Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert[9], words suitable for Israel's tombstone.
Israel has created its worst enemies -- they helped create Hamas as a counterweight to Fatah in Palestine, and their occupation of Lebanon created Hezbollah. The current terrible bombings can be expected to keep the process going. Since its very beginning, Israel has been almost continually engaged in fighting wars and taking other people's lands. Did any better way ever occur to the idealistic Zionist pioneers?
-William Blum

(table) Tennis Anyone?

That or badminton. I've got a raquet sport itch and I'm planning on scratching it.

Who wants in?

So far, for ping-pong (pour le pongiste en toi) I've found two offers:

Club Prestige at Centre Claude-Robillard
February 2nd to June 19th.
Pratique libre
Monday to Friday: 6h45-22h
Saturday and Sunday: 6h45-20h
+ 15$ for the membership which includes, amazingly: Grâce à cette carte, vous avez le droit d’utiliser les vestiaires, la piste d’athlétisme, la salle de musculation située dans le gymnase d’athlétisme et la piscine pendant les heures de bain libre.
+21$ frais de financement or something
more info


Club de tennis de table Maisonneuve
16 janvier au 7 mai
Monday, Wednesday, Friday 19h-22h
6200 Pierre-de-Coubertin
More info

As for badminton, there's a lot more out there, this seemed the closest to my desires, after a quick search:

Badminfun - League and libre
12 weeks
Monday and Wednesday 18h-20h
60$ + 10$ membership to centre Jean-Claude Malépart
2633 rue Ontario Est


At the same centre Jean-Claude Malépart,
There is free play Thursdays at 18h-20h
12 weeks

Oh, and did you really think I wouln't add a few youtubeez?

on this next one, at 3:04, check the move. It warranted a ''absolutely outrageous. That was naughty.'' by the announcer!

And finally:

Friday, January 2, 2009

Critique Anyone?

I thought this video/ad was quite impressive. My only review is: Wow! (I don't know whether that's in the good sense or not. I mean just the producers' bourgeois california accents are enough to hate it)