Today I had the opportunity to attend Fan Expo 2007 in Toronto. Those of you who have been with me for some time will remember my coverage of Games Day 2006. Unfortunately, I did not have my camera with me this time, and thus you will be subjected to my descriptions alone, forced to glean what meaning you can.
The Fan Expo comprises a number of different “conventions” squeezed into one massive room. I veered away from the Anime, Horror, and Games areas — the first two due to my lack of interest. While I enjoy the latter in the presence of friends, my home, and the occasional arcade, I have learned my lesson from the single Super Smash Brothers tournament I have ever entered in. These people occupy a different world than I, when it comes to the game medium. Where I see a man, a corridor, they see the code itself, flowing through space.
So yes, I mostly stayed around the Sci-fi and Comics end of things. With not a lot of money to spend I tried to avoid any major purchases, avoiding the temptations of the wares being offered to me. I was looking forward to meeting Adam West, not even for a signing — simply to ask why Batman no longer danced, as he once had. However, upon arrival I mistakenly believed he would not appear until Saturday, and my spirits died there, so that when I did see him, the sight of the line and my fatigue overcame me, and I passed on by.
Still, I did get to meet Ramon Perez and Kent Burles, two artists whom I am aware of due to their work for Palladium Books. I have always been fond of Perez’ work — it has a comic book feel, yet he has an uncanny ability to make his style fit the setting, be it superheroes or futuristic Wild West North America. If this man draws a wizard batting robot soldiers while his pyrokinetic friend fends them off with mind-flames, you believe that it’s happening.
I will be honest, Burles’ work has not been a favourite of mine in the past. However, looking at his art now, I think I misjudged him. His style is indeed very different from much of the other art you see commonly, but it stands out and particularly suits certain settings. Anything fantasy or organic looking by him is really great. I actually got to talk to him for a while about his art and Palladium’s financial problems and I felt bad about expressing so much dislike about his art on the net. He’s a really nice guy and looking back through my books I’m coming around to his style more and more. I guess I get a bit carried away with the anonymity the Internet affords sometimes, which is why I was glad to meet him in person.
Continuing with the theme, I was able to find a copy of Palladium’s original “Rifts”, Second Printing (1990) in nearly perfect condition, for a mere $12. Since every copy of the old book I’ve seen since I started playing the game has been torn to hell, this was pretty awesome.
Never having been to such a large con before, Fan Expo was indeed an interesting experience. I would have liked to spend more time (and money, if I had it) looking around, but such are things. Got to meet artists, preview some upcoming board games (Tannhauser and Starcraft!) and see a lot of costumes, ranging from the impressive (Stormtrooper Legion) to the bizarre and disturbing. Fan Expo runs until Sunday, and it caters to nearly ever variety of nerd imaginable. The Penny Arcade Expo is on this weekend as well (but it’s in Seattle), and yes, it is true that Hayden Christensen cancelled, but…wait, that last one should be an incentive to go, if anything.
Am I on crazy pills here? You may have read a recent story about Tre Smith, the Humane Society’s lead investigator. In this story, he found a dog left alone in a vehicle on a hot day. He smashed open the window to free the animal, then began helping the animal with the assistance of people nearby. Not so bad so far, right? Well we’re just turning off the exit of the sanity highway, baby!
When Cyrus’s owner returned to his car, Smith handcuffed him to the vehicle and left him alone while Cyrus was taken away for treatment. It was during that time, the owner alleged, that the angry mob already gathered at the scene began beating him. (CBC).
When the police showed up, the guy was still handcuffed to the car, but he was now bleeding! If he’s anything like me, that blood probably just started pouring out on its own. However, some suspect that the angry mob was to blame! Not Megan Ball, who doesn’t know Smith. She set up a Facebook group supporting the investigator.
As for Smith, he doesn’t think he’s hero material, and just said: “It’s unfortunate that it took Cyrus’s pain and suffering for us to get here.”
Preventing animal cruelty is one thing, but didn’t Smith think before leaving a defenseless man handcuffed to a car surrounded by people who probably weren’t too happy with him at the moment? Now people are calling for Smith’s reinstatement after his suspension.
To anybody who supports this guy: you realize that he willfully left a man in what was probably a worse condition than he found the dog in, right?
Depending on who you ask, Premier Dalton McGuinty of Ontario has either done a lot of bizarre things or a lot of nothing during his time in the office. Regardless of what he’s actually done, he gets quite a lot of bad press (see the tuition fee protests against him). However, once in a while he does something right, in my ever-so-humble opinion. Way back in September 2005, we had the Sharia Law campaign in which McGuinty said that we wouldn’t be seeing religious arbitration in Ontario. One point for him. Another point is added today, as he announced free HPV (human papillomavirus) vaccines for Grade 8 girls in Ontario, starting this fall (CBC).
Back when I was involved with the Ontario secular movement, this issue got tossed around quite a bit. The central debate here is between the right of vaccination and the right of parents to refuse. Ignoring those who might see vaccinations as mind-control weapons of the “man”, there is a very real concern among some parents that such a vaccination intrudes into their freedoms. Sometimes underlying this concern is the belief that such a vaccine might lead to promiscuity, much in the same way that some believe condom distribution will.
I’m not sure how prevalent this latter sentiment is, but it disturbs me nonetheless. Wikipedia says:
Other critics, including socially conservative religious groups, warn that the vaccine will encourage promiscuity by making it seem safer. Many women’s rights organizations disagree. Dr. Christine Peterson, director of the University of Virginia’s Gynecology Clinic, said “The presence of seat belts in cars doesn’t cause people to drive less safely. The presence of a vaccine in a person’s body doesn’t cause them to engage in risk-taking behavior they would not otherwise engage in.” (HPV vaccine controversy – Wikipedia, August 2 2007)
Those who oppose the vaccine on more libertarian grounds will have to speak to their daughter, not the state:
Jensen also told CBC News that parental consent forms will be issued prior to vaccination. But if a 13-year-old girl wants the vaccination despite her parents’ objections, she will still be able to get one. And even if parents agree to the vaccination, their daughter can still opt out.
Giving the choice to the person it’s actually affecting? What a novel idea. Of course, they might accuse schools of pressuring their children, but if the worst criticism of the program is that it’s encouraging children to prevent terrible disease then I think that speaks for itself.
Filed under: Poetry
Alternate Title: Antique Poetry Basement Blowout Extravaganzy
I dug up some old poetry of mine from an anthology written a bit over two years ago. Obviously, a lot of it is trash. However, I picked a few out to post here, both as a reminder to me and a bit of a treat (if you can call it that) for you.
Words are Like a Loaded Gun
Words are like a loaded gun
So Sartre said
And now he’s dead
It wasn’t verse that took his life
But time –
The most uncaring knife
Yet still it’s true
For words have killed
Many a tyrant and have spilled
The blood of those with no defense
Against the hands around their necks
The modern fighter has sheathed his blade
And chosen a more forceful tool
For the pen can easily be used
To bend the minds of king and fool
(This was when I was at the height of my Sartre-worship. Enjoy the rhyming while you can, it’s all downhill from here…)
Thank You Heston
Bang
Blast
Fast – quicker
Than he thought it’d be
The air ignites in reverence of the god that passes by
It isn’t misplaced awe – a god decides who lives and dies
And this
one’s
dead
(Later became a song. Better in poem form, I think. Although, the song does have a great chorus, adapted from Army of Darkness: “Good, bad, I’m the guy with the gun.”)
Denouement
The stars were quoted as saying
“Humanity is a fad”
But stars can’t talk
So no one will laugh
When there’s nothing left
But a barren rock
And fossils from the past
(Inspired by Bad Religion’s Part IV (The Fossil Index).)
EVERYTHING IS ABSURD
The problem with counter-culture
Is it becomes the new-culture
People who hate everything
Their irony
That is
They become what they hate
Poetic rhetoric only takes you so far
And quickly
It too gets old
Stay in the game
Or live outside
In a self-deprecating
Childish bubble of ignorance
Your call
Truly
The cliché lives a sad ironic life
Superman
Unflinchingly
The superman proceeds
He casts aside prehistoric notions
Good and evil merely words
Like any other
Hail to the superman
For he has truly moved beyond us
And lives in a world of his own
Alone
(Is this a reference to Nietzsche or a paean to the Last Son of Krypton? You be the judge…)
Unpoem
Poem
Poem
No poem here
But no-poem’s another poem yet to be written
A poem is only such when called by name
Could just as easily be
Rambling
Rant
Recycled trash
Definition useful to a point
From A to B
The poets write and will be damned
If they’ll stick to a straight line
(I have endured endless mocking at the first two lines of this one. Poem! Poem! Get yer poems! We got sonnets on sale, five pence a dozen!)
$91
Ginsberg Burroughs Cassady Walker
Johnny especially
Knew well but the last perhaps too
Met him seventeen times an hour
And finally killed him
Lowell oh Lowell
Jean-Louis
I apologize
For calling you the king of Beats
(This one needs some explaining — skip this if you don’t want to know too much about it. Jack Kerouac was a beat author who was friends with Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs, and Neal Cassady. The “Walker” in the song refers to Johnny Walker, a drink Kerouac knew only too well. Apparently, he once drank an obscene amount in one hour (hence “meeting him”). His alcoholism would be the cause of his death. Additionally, he never wanted to be seen as “king” of anything — yet he is referred to as the “King of Beats” by many.)
Reptile Brain
When I see you
There’s no control
When they say their heart
They just mean primal
Instinct
That is the
Terrifying truth of the
Evolved
When the old
Haunts the new
(I like the second half of this one, not so much the first.)
Republic
Be fair the Truth
is not a tightrope that can be walked
it’s far too slack for that
Neither is it a line which
can easily be crossed
since it was long ago
rubbed out
Some seek to find everlasting
a Truth of Forms conquering
all lower-case truths
found by the non-kings
the philosopher-kings being
Those who have found this Truth
among other things and so
have authority to rule
the world which they say
they escaped to from the cave
A rule founded on superior notions
notions which may sadly prove to
be disastrously wrong
Don’t tell the man
who believes in the World since
he’ll surely call you blind
(Take that, Plato!)
Prelude
Man knows that he is winning
He’s winning he knows
But he doesn’t know where he goes
To utopia maybe
Or likely
More to oblivion
He thinks that he’s winning
Against whom is unsure but
Rest assured that victory is secure
(Ending on a prelude? Am I mad?)
Quite clearly, yes.
Well, well, well. It has been about a year since I begun this jaunt into unfamiliar Internet territory — before then, blogging existed in a known but seldom-visited corner of the InterTron. I have lived in this place for one year. I know few of my neighbours, and I doubt that they know me. Our only commonality is our obscene idol, which is known only as “Blog”. It demands sacrifices regularly, gradually consuming the entirety of our minds into its grotesque form.
That being said, it was one year ago (or so) that I examined my socially unpopular pastimes. At the time, I came to the conclusion that nobody should dictate how my leisure time is best spent besides myself. I come back to this issue today for two reasons:
1. I have recently landed a job (my title: toadie) working at a game and hobby store, catering mostly to children and bizarre man-child hybrids such as myself.
2. It makes a good connection with my very first blog (it’s all cycles).
I am still of the opinion that I shouldn’t be worried about what other people think. However, my concerns have shifted — I now wonder if I am making the best use of my time. Sometimes other activities, such as chewing my way through the rest of a forgotten book, seem more productive. In other cases, I feel as if I should be broadening my horizons — perhaps keeping up on my areas of academic interest.
Books often seem more legitimate, and I most definitely do not read enough (novels, that is — I read plenty otherwise — why, I’m reading right now). Making things more complicated is my desire to constantly have a to-do list, even going so far as to have a list of games and books to make my way through. The upshot to seeing leisure as a task is that it feels like you’re getting something done. The downside is that it’s not very relaxing, which is supposed to be the point, no? Even as I write this, the almost satanically-powerful urge to “catch ’em all” (that’s Pokemon, for all three of you who didn’t catch the reference) is burning into my very soul.
These concerns seem unlikely to go away anytime soon. However, the Summer months are only just beginning. Perhaps working in the games business will push me away — I anticipate that it will only build my knowledge and affection for the subject, however. Regardless, I feel that I must either reconcile these feelings or else make a concerted effort to take up more diverse interests.
In parting, Connor has put up some of his music. He recently moved in with me for the Summer and we’re going to be joining our Voltron-like forces together once more to form some kind of giant musical robot. This can only bode poorly for our neighbours, but it also signals a return to my undying love for the stage, with any luck.
“…in order to really be a martyr…you have to have a religion first.”
This is what The Varsity, a University of Toronto-based campus newspaper, proclaimed today in its Editorial section. The comment was made in reference to an attack on Justin Trottier, president of the Freethought Association of Canada. Details of the attack can also be found on the Varsity as well, in a somewhat less scathing article. Unfortunately, the Varsity requires registration to view their website, so I’ll pluck a few choice words from their comments.
First, a background: Justin was attacked at Ryerson University while putting up posters for an event titled “God: The Failed Hypothesis“. The locals have been unfriendly in the past — legitimately approved posters and banners get torn down almost immediately. However, this was much more than simple vandalism. After a short exchange of words (as detailed in the article) Justin was struck and headbutted in the face (I’ll leave the Zidane comments to others). To me, this seems like a hate attack: if Justin were a Christian putting up posters for an evangelical event, most people would have little problem construing it as such. However, Justin happens to be an atheist, promoting a non-religious event.
As the Varsity puts it, “Justin Trottier says he’s a victim, too. He insists we should feel indignant over his story of woe. But should we?”
YES! Yes, we should! In any other situation, this would be considered a hate attack. But of course, as an atheist, he should expect to be assaulted in public: “As a “secular advocate” seeking the same protection and rights accorded to religious beliefs, he very much wants to have his cake and eat it, too.”
They close with these remarks, cryptic as they are astounding: “But we’ll give him a word or two of advice: if you’re going to crack wise to just anybody on the street in the dead of night, start working on your left hook, and leave the Charter defense to the real victims.”
You heard it here first, folks. If you’re an atheist who walks around in the dead of night, expect a suitable punishment.
The biggest thing on the radar of secular-minded people in Ontario right now is this: http://www.cfsontario.ca/mediareleaselinks/TaskForce-Final.Report-FINAL.pdf. Admittedly, said radar is not very large, but when it detects something of this magnitude, lights and sirens go off. Have you ever heard a good siren? That should sum up the storm of controversy this document is causing at the moment.
For those who don’t have the patience to read through a document of this length, I’ll explain. The Canadian Federation of Students has produced a report on the “needs” of Muslim students in Ontario (obviously, my quotations). Said “needs” seem bizarre and unnecessary to me. For example: we should increase flexibility for Muslim students handing in assignments that might interfere with Friday prayer or other holidays. As one student said, “It’s highly stressful to see that you have to go up to the professor and try to explain to him. Some people just don’t want to go through the whole hassle of dealing with having an examination on a holiday.” I’m sorry, but it’s just too bad. I have no problems with accommodation but when you say that an entire group of people is excused from academic obligations for a certain day, where do you draw the line? Would you need proof that you were Muslim? Recite the Koran? Hey, I’d do it if it meant not having to go to class Fridays.
Later, a suggestion that it is unfair that Muslim women should be forced to pay for athletic centres that they can’t use. How about the unfairness of making non-religious students pay for a “multifaith” centre that they can’t use? In fact, the multifaith centre project leader at the University of Toronto is on record saying “why would I ask an atheist for advice about the centre?”
Last on my parade of errors is the concern with alcohol. One student explained the “problem”: “There are lots of social events in my programme. Unfortunately, many like ‘meet your professor’ tend to be wine and cheeses. Muslims shouldn’t be at these events, but then they miss out on the experience of connecting with their teachers and learning outside of the classroom.”
I’m sorry, I must be missing something. Where is the connection between having alcohol available and being forced to drink it? Why can’t you come to an event with alcohol and just not drink? Most orientation events don’t even have alcohol available anyway — if they do, it’s usually not official or condoned.
Rest assured, a task force on the needs of non-religious students will soon be published. Not to mention one on the needs of Christian students, Jewish students, Sikh students, Hindu students, feminist students, communist students, Zionist students, Pastafarian students, and every damn group you can possibly think of.
This is not about Islamophobia, it’s about making accommodations that don’t have any place within a secular institution like a university. I suspect I will be accused of “hating Islam”, when I do not. I hate injustice.
Really, I should be thanking the CFS. They’ve set the precedent — if they want to know the needs of minority students on campus, then they’re sure as hell going to hear about them.
Filed under: Events, Karl Marx, Nooooo actual bloooggging, Secularism, Sociology
Astute readers (and those with the ability to scroll down slightly) will remember my paper on Karl Marx and emotional labour that I recently wrote for a sociology course. It turns out that my grandiloquent self-praise was not so overblown as I previously thought. My TA tells me that further research on my topic could be done, perhaps warranting a full-blown study. This left me in a state of shock, to say the least. Updates will be posted as they come.
Now, in the stead of applying my intellect to an appropriate topic at hand, I diverge once more. I should be studying for a statistics test, worth 50% of my mark in the course. Considering that this course is important to my standing in the program as a whole, it is worth approximately 12.465% of my undergraduate career. And yet, I continue to ramble. Keep in mind that I do this for your benefit, and not mine, as the numbers have just proven.
I have been organizing an event for a group which I am increasingly involved with. This event is titled GOD AND EVOLUTION: Is Intelligent Design Ruining Science Education? (Spoiler: Yes.) If you are interested in this event, I highly suggest that you attend – the price is a meagre $4 and the speakers are not being reimbursed for their time. Tickets can be purchased here. Organizing this has been a harrowing endeavor for myself – I would appreciate it if as many people as possible came. Tell your friends! Whore yourself shamelessly! Etc.
One final thing, now that such sordid matters are behind us. My literary fever has struck again – symptoms include headache and neck stiffness. Upon further consideration, this may be some less comical illness that should be diagnosed by a medical profession. My real writing fever has prompted me to begin writing anew. Giraffes have been abandoned, sadly — to languish in the void until I decide to finish their tale. Shortly I will post an excerpt from my most recent attempt. I would appreciate criticism, preferably of the kind that assists me in some manner.
Now, I bid you adieu, returning to a dark cave populated by chi-squares, normal curves, and variables of every shape and size. I only hope that you must never follow me into this cave — for it consumes all who enter, without exception.
I have heard the new Ted Leo album. Oh yes, I have heard it. I have accomplished this feat through certain underground internets. I apologize to Ted, but I will likely purchase the album when it does finally arrive via legitimate channels. As well, I will be viewing him in concert for the second time, something which is rarely done. Such is the majesty this man exudes, accompanied by his coterie of pharmacists.
Yesterday I finished what might be called an opinion piece on the well-known topic of Marxian theory. In said paper, I attempted something that I have often striven for yet never achieved – I have coined a phrase. The phrase in question became the title of the paper, dragging the initial thesis off course greatly. Despite this, I stand by it as a phrase that could be used in papers, books, etc.
“Diversity of ruin” – it describes the myriad ways in which modern workers are alienated from their means of livelihood.
I would explain in greater detail, but it would be in such terms that neither you nor I would be likely to understand.
Once again, I apologize for my lengthy abscence. Rest assured, it was well spent — assume that such time away from this place is used in pursuit of otherworldly treasures, or in the heat of battle with beasts that would but utter death and it would come to pass.
Summer seems far away now, even though Winter has loosened its bony grip on my fair city. I have no doubt it will strike again, when weatherpeople least expect it. Regardless, plans for that time have already begun to coalesce. Talk of “gaming groups” and “bands” is whispered in hushed tones among those who know, the words quickly floating into ether.
I recently indulged in a splurge of such proportions that it might well be called a spree. I purchased two board games — Kill Doctor Lucky and Apples to Apples. The former I have played before, albeit not in this newer, improved incarnation. I am told the latter involves comparisons of Helen Keller and amusing adjectives. This pleases me. The results of this spree are lingering guilt and diminished monetary reserves. We shall see if it was worth it soon enough.
You may have noticed that the “Daily Doggerel” has not been updated in some time, a very long time to say the least. I have extracted what merit I could from the exercise, and moved on. Perhaps it will return, perhaps not. But forcing oneself to write poetry about the inane events regarded as news by our culture, often involving manatees and the men they love, is not something that I care to continue at this point.
Mattherobot 