Benjibopper

The above subject is my new mantra.

My stress level is a bit out of control. I'm gritting my teeth a lot, which is in turn giving me more headaches than usual.

Reading James Joyce seems to help for some reason. I'm reading 'portrait of the artist...' - apparently his most accessible work. It is easy enough to read, after the babytalk start. The writing is really beautiful.

I finally finished clash of fundamentalisms, the sixth book I've completed this year. [My propensity for listmaking is perhaps one source of stress. I'm a little obsessed with accomplishment - been an overachiever ever since I almost failed my maroon level swimming class in 1983. I have a memory for statistics like Chris Bosh has rebounding skills - 8.3 per game at age 20 years and 300 days, not bad Boshie, not bad.]

My current obsessions are:

1. my wedding
2. my job
3. the enviro. org. i'm on the board of
4. basketball (my own team and the Raptors - yes I'm a raptors fan, never let it be said that i don't have a sense of humour)
5. writing a novella pitch and a novel
6. reading books

Not likely in that order though. But the first 4 more than the last 2, unfortunately. [I'm excited about the wedding, but planning it is a pain, even though we're keeping it bonehead simple.]

February blues, only one day left.

-Bopper

Labels: 2005, non-fiction, Toronto, Workplace Boredom

Longing is the universal feeling: desire
so I asked my girl how to pray
because being raised a Christian
there was so much blood on my hands
and more spilling every day

She said let's have a weekend without computers
so I got on my knees and scrubbed
but once loosened the river released
and flooded the whole of the house
until all I could see was more blood

I ran to every corner
and I covered every inch
my bones were bared
with no muscle spared
it had to do in a pinch

The bank forclosed on my heart
and I had to reboot after all
got lost in virtual communique
fighting porno popups galore
fearing their effect on my balls

I sent off a quick letter
to keep the loan sharks at bay
got back to planning my wedding
organizing expense accounts
distributing wealth on work 'n' play

You gotta spend money to make money
so I'm due for a lottery win any sec
I still long to travel the world
see those poor kids up close
they're dirty but what the heck?

We're all longing for something
for some of us it's food and such
but who is ever satisfied?
I keep longing for more
after every single touch

What does it take to simplify?
throw all this broken shit out
throw out the stuff that works too
it'll bust up soon enough
guaranteed without a doubt

It's the one thing you can be sure of
things end and things fall apart
the great mystery of it all
is no matter how many things die
there's always something else to start

Labels: 2004, philosophy, Poetry, Toronto

Once again back to the Tariq Ali. Why read the book when you could read my abridged blog version?

This gave me nasty chills:

Lesley Stahl: "We have heard that half a million children have died in Iraq. I mean, that's more children than died in Hiroshima. And you know, is the price worth it?"

Madeleine Albright: "I think this is a very hard choice, but the price? We think the price is worth it."

Labels: best of, politics, quotations

"The empire [United States] prefers to play the role of supreme arbiter these days, but its solutions put its own interests first. It would make much more sense for the South Asian states and China to forgo the mediation of the empire and speak with each other directly. If they fail to do so they might discover, sometime later this century, that over the benign gaze of the empire, the forces of rampant capitalism are breaking up both China and India. Now there's a thought."

--Tariq Ali

Labels: quotations

I can't spare a minute

Not for sick kids
nor pleasant pretty women
saving children for a living

What a sad state
to strategize exclusively
responding to the needs
you yourself perceive
based on limited experience
and the few reports
you've found time to read
in between meetings

But it's a hectic world baby
information is fragmented
like split screen television
you can't know everything
and you can't save 'em all

Just like the docs on ER

Labels: 2004, Poetry, politics, Toronto

I'm not certified
un-bonafide
I hide inside
individuality

I'm associated
negotiated
somewhat appreciated
for marketability

NBA dreams fade
unfinished novels spayed
no time to play
despite agility

What I am is me
ebrace diversity
but my eyes see
oppression

Power and discrimination
makes criminalization
the bottom of civilization
my obsession

Unauthorized voyeur
looks down unsure
his strategy impure
dispossession

Oppressed look up
praying for good luck
promising all stuff
for inclusion

Others pure hate
me participate?
in their fate?
exclusion

Programs in schools
new policies & rules
associations with tools
delusion

I'm an individual
identified residual
community unfeasible
seclusion

You're one too
and you and you and you
drifting in the goo
of an aquarium

The only way out
come together without
leaving others out
and envision the solarium

Move toward the stars
that free us from scars
having held us marred
trapped in sanitarium

Labels: 2004, philosophy, Poetry, Toronto

Found this quotation by a Pakastani transport worker named Sind, from his suicide note (quoted in The Clash of Fundamentalisms, by Tariq Ali - great book):

"I have lost patience. Me and my fellow-workers have been protesting the non-payment of our salaries for a long time. But nobody takes any notice. My wife and mother are seriously ill and I have no money for their treatment. My family is starving and I am fed up with quarrels. I don't have the right to live. I am sure the flames of my body will reach the houses of the rich one day."

The world is a vampire. Billy Corgan said that.

Bopper

Labels: best of, quotations

Something sad about seeing Paul McCartney sing his old beatle songs as part of the giant commercial that is Superbowl. Not that's it's any surprise - the cute beatle has always been the most savvy, the richest, the biggest commercial success. Even after Jacko takes his share. Yet sad nonetheless, that a year after boobgate the most family friendly, toned down, safest and least offensive act the organizers found (and you know they looked very, very hard) was Sir Paul's tribute to the Beatles (and Roger Moore as double O seven). This is the man for whose fans the word hysteria gained popular usage, he was just so damn hot. Unlike many of his peers, Paul's voice is still strong and clear. And he's surrounded by world-class musicians. But where the hell are John and George? Oh, wait, yeah, that's right. Not only is Paul not the Beatles, he's not even the best one. I'm not sure I'd even put him in my top 4. I can understand having your hayday and living on the royalties ever-after, but to keep putting it out there like as if it's fresh and exciting, that's just annoying. And he didn't even show any flesh.

Bopper

Labels: 2005, non-fiction, politics, Toronto

I have a co-worker who told me she just loves quotations by Winston Churchill - she's a big fan. She's got a whole address book of 'em. I told her I liked good quotations too and she told me to send her any good ones I came across. I haven't sent her any yet, certainly not this one by her favourite colonialist:

"I do not agree that the dog in the manger has the final right to the manger, even though he may have lain there for a very long time. I do not admit that right. I do not admit, for instance, that a great wrong has been done to the Red Indians of America, or the black people of Australia. I do not admit that a wrong has been done to these people by the fact that a stronger race, a higher grade race, a more worldly-wise race, to put it that way, has come in and taken their place."

This is how the great drunkard justified the occupation of Palestine by Israel.

-Bopper

Labels: quotations

Leaky Roof Residence (top) and Nakjung's Friend

Labels: photography

Really, I still have all my teeth 

photo by Molly Crealock

Labels: photography