The Twenty-First: Blessed are the forgetful...

...for they get the better, even of their blunders.
-Nietsche
(Beyond Good and Evil.)

Today was the type of day I like to go home and writ about in my blog, examining every little detail. And so I believe that, since this is my blog, I shall do that.

Q107 was playing an unusually good amount of music this morning, thus making it easier to sleep in. For you see, I have a tendancy of being disturbed by John Derringer's opinions, whether I agree of disagree. If the man didn't have a decent point once in a while, and represent perhaps the best radio station on the air today, then I'd have no business waking up to him every morning. So usually I set my alarm for about 7:15, and sometime between then and 7:30, there's a lot of boring talk, you know, the type that they use to pad out the morning shows, gossip, politics, society that sort of thing. And I can get up and leave. But instead, I slept in, because they were playing good music instead. So I had to force myself to get out of bed whilst they played Phil Collins' "In the air tonight." I was up late enough that I could qualify it as being "slept in."

Yesterday Dad gave me a box of Lucky Charms I'd bought for my one-time stay at the trailer this summer. Having just closed the trailer up for the winter, he gave them back to me. I was initially worried they'd be stale, but I had a bowl this morning and decided they were fine.

Got to school about 15 minutes late, of my own hand. When Mr. Andrews gave me his look, I just shrugged and said "slept in." What, was he worried I was wasting my precious storyboarding time?

Trouble started brewing in food school. See, i thought Mrs. D had told me to go over to North, but it turns out she jut meant to go to the Dish Room. So there I was, at the North Campus, where I didn't want to be and where I wasn't supposed to be, but I didn't know that. So I had to get the verbal abuse from Mrs. D that usually reserved for Adeel or one of the other incompetant middle eastern folks who work there. And I'm not being racist by saying that. The fact is that the only people who really get such lectures happen to be Middle Eastern of origin. And they outnumber the white kids in class anyway.

Drama was, thankfully, my final Commedia Dell'Arte (or as I call it "Comm-AY-dee-ah dell-ahh-lahh-lah,") presentation; where it turns out that it was not Brighella's birthday or a costume party, but a tupperware party! Props to Vanessa and Janessa for coming up with a really good classicist storyline, that, as per their demands "didn't involve love." I was slightly insulted that they were so adamant that there was to be no romance, and can't help suspecting that it has something to do with myself and Chris Brown being the male members of the group. But anyway, we pulled it off all right. Props to me for basically adlibbing ever single line of dialogue I had, and managing to get a laugh twice with the same joke (misspelling names with punctuation.) I don't know why, but I've always preferred presentations where I'm allowed to say anything that pops into my head. I tend to have thoughts and make observations that are spontaneous and untested and usually result in an unexpected laugh. It's just so tacky when you do something like Ryan Goad where you just intentionally don't open the door and say "Maybe I should open the door!" If it's something silly like that, it should be spontaneous and not planned. Nothing against the guy, he is quite charismatic, but he lacks spontanaity. Coffini was the gem of that presentation, as he usually is. Mike Coffini was, I believe, placed upon this Earth simply for the enjoyment of others. A natural entertainer. He's in a different league altogether from everyone I can think of in the class. He has this attitude like "I'm just gonna be me, and do very little else, and you'll probably laugh."

So when it came time to reveal that the part was in fact a tupperware party, people claim they laughed, but I didn't hear much laughing; I heard a braced silence followed by a collective "Ohhhhh," that was shared by at least more than one person. I didn't hear laughs until I earnestly handed Chris Brown a plastic container. On the plus side, everyone yelled "Happy Birthday Brighella" just as we'd hoped.

Rosser had us vote on how we wanted to make groups for our next assignment; we chose, he choses, random hat-drawing, or we make lists and try to match. Hat-drawing won by a vast majority, in which I was included.

I remember the many phone calls I'd have with Drew back in grade 4, where we'd talk about every single subject imaginable, and then upon realizing we'd run out of topic matter, talk about how we've got nothing left to talk about, because we were such good friends at that time that we didn't want to hang up until it was necessary. I'm sure everyone's had a coversation about how there's nothing else to talk about. It's a very common topic. This was the motivation, seemingly, the theme of sorts behind lunch today. After exhausting our stock supply of conversation, we just began to amuse ourselves for the sake of our own amusement, if that makes sense. At one point the table was disbanded to different corners of the room to try and start a "slow clap." Alyssa's idea, I think. She went across the way and started clapping, then I started clapping, then Kyle, Angela and Jessica started clapping, and then half the caf was clapping. And then we kinda stopped. I always wish I had more to say in public, but I fear no-one cares to listen. And nothing's so embarassing as talking to people who don't care. Because they don't care and you've just made a perfect ass of yourself. So I just sit and listen.

I used to do that in Grade 10. Except I had a harder time dealing with it, I'd get bored and frustrated, and leave without explanation. It was one of the things Ana got mad at me about. My seemingly irretrievably introverted nature. But I've been better lately. I still don't talk, but I remember something someone once said about Paul Shaffer: that he's very quiet and loves to listen, and then he can explode with conversation at any minute. Paraphrasing, naturally. That feels like me. I don't need to insinuate myself into any conversation I'm not in, but I can just hang around and observe and still be a part of it. The key thing is to not withdraw into myself. It was myself, Jeff, Kyle, Angela, Jessica, Alyssa, and Steffi, at the table I think. Just for posterity's sake.

Despite my troubles, I at least had a decent day. I like thursdays. Inexplicably, they're usually good days. Or so I think. I really have no statistical basis for that statement. It just feels like by Thursday, you're set into the week, not too close to the end, all fired up and ready to go (or else already out of it,) and it's the day least likely to carry unpleasant surprises.

Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Twentieth: Got to get you into my life

What a day.

I'm sick as a dawg. Sneezing and aching, and my poor head, ugh! And yet, I've been busy as sin all day. Well, not all day. Until Josh comes back - which I suspect is not until next week - anything I do in Commtech qualifies only as busywork, meaningless and contributing quite to the cause. I don't know what I'm gonna do tomorrow.

I probably shouldn't have been cooking in Food School, what with my cold and all. And also this was the fourth day of my three day rotation, so I literally shouldn't have been cooking. But Mrs. D shot that explanation down, so I probably would've just gotten a crossed look if I tried to pull the sick routine on her. Plus, I would've ended up in Dish room, which is just bad news.

And in Drama, all I did was watch Commedia Dell'Arte sketches that weren't mine. Alyssa took a pie in the face (well, she corrected me and said "on the shoulder," but come on - there's no such thing as a "pie on the shoulder.") and Jeff wore Alyssa's pants while serenading Denise. And Steffi sculpted a large yellow phallus from clay while Ana pretended to pose nude.

Got comics today. Hooray hooray.

The real business came after I got home from Dad's and set to work on ultimately getting the new comic online in as speedy a fashion as possible, as well as whoring it in every available outlet.

Also, Eric retned Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which I already saw in theatres, but loved. **** 1/2 out of 5.

I hate this time of year - I hate watching summer evaporate into Fall. I hate this sudden coldness which forces me to wear a jacket in the morning but not after school. I hate that it's dark just after 7. I hate that the leaves are turning and that soon they'll be gone. I feel so BLAHHHHHHHH.

Whine, whine, whine.

Keep on Rockin'
-Scott
"She's so Beautiful. I wouldn't want to ruin that by telling her so."

The Nineteenth: I'm Burning for You.

I like "blogging" because it gives me an outlet when I want to write and can't think of something creative to do.

I feel so fake, man. Like my entire course of interaction with society is just artificial. i'm an outsider, maybe not by design and not really by choice - just by circumstance, I guess. I made a choice many years ago, I remember the exact moment I turned away from society, and I've spent a lot of time since then trying to get back in but it's not the same. I can function, but it's not as lucid as it should be.

I think there are some song lyrics in that, but I'm not feeling musical or poetic at the moment.

I'm trying to remember Randi. Not the Randi I dated - the Randi I first met, who I used to flirt with at the blwoing alley (or, whose flirtations I attempted to return.) There hasn't been a female since her who's talked to me the way she did then. There was an earnest boldness in her personality back then; over the years, I suspect, it melted away. And by the time we started dating, she - and indeed, I - was a different person. And maybe the key difference is that back then, I wouldn't maybe have been the type of person who wouldn't whine like I do now in this blog. Well, I can't say for sure, but I think that since now I've got more years to reflect on, I do more reflecting.

It's a form of therapy to write in this thing. Even if the entries are all the same - and sometimes it seems like they are - at least I'm getting my thoughts out, not bottling them up so I can end up hurting someone because my mind is so cluttered with thought. It's all in the open air.

Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Eighteenth: Hatchet Face Jr.

Some of the weird things that happened today:

* The bowling team was reconfigured. Bye bye veteran bowler Michael, hello novice bowler Nadia. Not that I'm upset - it's not often a pretty girl like Nadia just randomly walks onto my bowling team.

* Car broke down while out grocery shopping. So here we are in the parking lot of No Frills, with a dead car and a trunk full of groceries. While waiting for repairs, Eric and I looked at Vespas for no good reason, and then went to the pet store for no good reason.

* Toilet broke. We've had our problems with that antique piece of plumbing for weeks, but it just finally came apart today, so we needed to fix THAT as well.

* Watched Jim Jarmusch's Coffee & Cigarettes, which was entertaining, but didn't hit me as hard as Jarmusch's excellent "Night on Earth." Just the usual problems with the "unrelated segment" format of these movies. *** of 5.

And I thought this weekend was going to be uneventful! Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Seventeenth: Two of Us

This is my third post today. These random thoughts just keep popping into my head.

I've got the blues. Because this weekend, as every weekend, I will find myself isolated from society, withdrawn into my little world of bowling, grocery shopping and death-dueling. See, as usual, when the Drama class was going in a circle to say what was going on this weekend, I just made a joke comment about how I was gonna have a duel to the death, because nothing I'm doing this weekend is worth noting.

So yeah, that's got me pretty down, the fact that there's a palpable separation between me and the rest of the world every weekend. If I seem depressed, there's your explanation. I really do wanna be where people are. And I wanna leave this house. But this is sadly, not to be.

Last night I had a dream that Eric and I were attacked by two punk kids, only to defeat them and transform one of them into an infant. He had the last laugh, however, when he swore his revenge - that this Monday I would have no electricity! I swear to God, this is the dream I had. And then I had to lock my bike up, but I lost my key. It was so weird.

"Hey Jude" is probably the most universally beloved song on Earth. If you or someone you know hates this song, there is something fundamentally wrong with you. It doesn't matter if you're not a fan of the Beatles, and it doesn't matter if you don't like oldies at all. If you don't like "Hey Jude," then you don't have a soul. Plain and simple, you don't have a human soul. You are clearly incapable of feeling.

Man, it was a foggy day for the Terry Fox run.

This is my world. Keep on Rockin'
-Scotto

The Sixteenth: Fraggin' Wauuuugh.

Everybody over here is going fuckin' mental.

It's like we're just a pack of jackyls without enough social grace to be able to coexist in a house without just ripping each other to shreds. What the fuck is our problem???

God help us all, we need to get out of this house.

Keep on Rockin'
Scott

The Fifteenth: If the phallus fits...

I'm not having any fun.

I don't know what this bitterness is. Actually, I have some theories, but the point is I'm not having too much fun right now. I feel... trapped, maybe. Everything's so routine, so bland, so nothing. Nothing!

Interlude: Grounded for Life has some of the best dialogue on TV.

Back to the point: blaaaaaahh.

What can I do? Can I just sit on my ass and wait for life to come around? For things to happen? Or do I actually have to seize my own destiny for once? God, I hope not; I've never been good at that.

What can I possibly do?

Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Fourteenth: Get back

I'm doin' my best.

I updated the Blog format a bit. I was gonna pick an entirely new template, but I couldn't find one I like better than "Minima Black." You'll notice the new title and blurb, however. Or, you won't, which is perfectly acceptable. Maybe sometime I'll go into the HTML editor and create my own template.

When I get down - which is frequent - I find that I can always feel better by listening to the Coral. Speaking of Coral, I haven't seen her around recently. I'm beginning to worry.

I feel sometimes like I'm stuck in a neverending loop, a pattern of behaviour I cannot escape, at least not of my own accord. I'm just trapped in my own behaviour, doomed to keep repeating the same mistakes until I learn. I'll never learn! Never! I swear! You guys out there in Blogger-land might not know what I'm talking about, but that's understandable since I'm trying to be vague. Did I mention that I love being vague? See two posts down for the answer.

Why do I even carry a binder? I hardly ever have to write something. Maybe it's best to be prepared in such an unlikely event as I should have to write something, but still it's weird. I have 3 classes, none of which routinely involve note-taking. I've handled more chicken breasts this year than written notes. Wish they were human female breasts rather than chicken breasts. Take that how you will. Which reminds me - it bugs me in Commedia when girls playing Columbina grab their boobs. Not that there's something inherently wrong with that, it's just that, well, I can't laugh while a girl is fondling herself, because it's too... you know... sexy. Some of the presentations I've seen, when I think on them now... ooh. Ha ha. Seriously though...

Big news, actually; I've been thinking a lot toward my future for once. I'm going to apply for Sheriden's 3-year Media arts program To be honest, it doesn't sound as appetizing as Journalism (which I'll also probably apply for,) but it suits my talents, my ambitions, and most importantly: the credits I'll be having. The only problem is that it'll be hella-expensive.

My love, she waits for me by the half-moon light. Only, she doesn't know it. Keep on rockin'
-Scott

The Thirteenth: Amateur Lover

Unexpectedly big day today. It started out humdrum enough - there was nothing to do in Commtech (damn Josh and his going to Florida for 10 days.) and Food School was the same old same old. Pouring Ranch dressing into bottles. In Drama, there was a presentation - isn't there always? - of Commedia Dell'Arte. I didn't think it was going to turn out well, but it was really well recieved. I also had to bite into a fake sandwich made of tinfoil and plastic bag. It was odd, because later at Earnest rehearsal, Rosser commented on it, which is odd since he doesn't usually bring things up after the fact (he = forgetful.) So I was flattered, since to me it was sort of a slight performance.

Rehearsal's such a bore. I sit around waiting to announce Mr. Earnest Worthing or Ms. Fairfax or whatever, or waiting for my cue to serve the cake. It's not easy being the butler.

The big news of the day is my usual pattern of behaviour - I'll do anything to get people's attention and approval. In this case, it was something of a dare: if they gave $20 to the Terry Fox foundation, I'd get on stage and do Vanilla Ice. And do Vanilla Ice I did. First verse only, a cappella. Just like I was planning on doing in Grade 10.

Went to Dad's today. i miss the day when he had his own place. Not that I don't like the current situation, but I miss just sitting and hanging out with my Dad in his own place. That's sentimentality for you.

Got comics today. Mmmhm.

Keep on Rockin'
Scotto

The Twelfth: Vague Terminology

Another movie I saw on the weekend was Kevin Smith's Jersey Girl; and in terms of movies, it's the most complete of a film he's ever made. It's like, a whole movie, unlike 3 or so of the previous movies he'd directed. Dogma was close to a whole movie, as was Chasing Amy, but Jersey Girl is the most daring in that he shrugs off his usual "Jay & Silent Bob" audience in search for a more mature one, and I think he at least succeeds in putting himself out there and making a damn good movie. Clever use of the musical "Sweeney Todd," and a great performance from the little girl. ****1/2 of 5.

I've been feeling so cluttered lately. My mind is just messed up, so I've been meditating more than usual (I don't usually practise that, because I can never find a good time, but lately I've been looking harder for time and fitting it in when I can.) It helps to relax and clarify the mind. I've got a lot on my mind lately, most of which is of my own design. If I could stop thinking about girls for half a second I might have a mostly productive day once in a while. But no, I insist on punishing myself. The universe is playing games on me. I've been retreating from society as much as possible lately, and trying to escape into my own mind, but I don't like what I get there. I'm reaching out, to the faceless masses of the internet, for a small measure of comfort, preferably without going into specifics. That's what I like about the blog - I never have to be specific about anything.

By the way, for the edification of the public:

twi·light
n.

1. The diffused light from the sky during the early evening or early morning when the sun is below the horizon and its light is refracted by the earth's atmosphere.

2. The time of the day when the sun is just below the horizon, especially the period between sunset and dark.

I've always wondered exactly what is twilight, and I'm sure I'm not alone. Now we all known. Let's laugh, love, and learn together.

Keep on Rockin'
Scott

The Eleventh: In Charge of our days and our nights.

This post is "The Eleventh." There is a "the Tenth" but I'm not posting it because it's an unnecessarily detailed comparison of the first two albums by the Coral. I might slide it in someday, but it'll come geographically after this one.

So, on Friday, in Drama, I had the pleasure of bending over a chair while a girl pretended to shove a slapstick up my ass. In case you can't imagine, let me describe the silly grin on my face as I type that sentence: I have a silly grin on my face as I type that sentence.

The girl was Alyssa, who's new this year to White Oaks, and who I hadn't said much to before Friday, other than a casual "Hey," now and again. This would usually be when she comes into the caf while I'm working there. But after we had to do a Commedia assignment, I got to know her as a cool girl who's really good to be onstage with. And I say this, because the 3-minute bit was largely made up on the spot, so there had to be a certain level of interplay. And, not being quite a professional improv-guy (like say, Doug Calderwood-Smith,) it's often kind of awkward when I'm trying to bounce back and forth off someone on the spot, but she played well. And also, when we were trying to figure out what exactly to do, she was the one mostly giving ideas, which is just cool. I certainly hope I get to work with her again.

In that entire class of 32 people, and after 3 years of Drama, I still find it odd that I've never been onstage with Doug. Granted, we were only in the same class once before now, but still. That's my goal before the end of the year. Maybe I'll take him up on his invitation to join improv. I've been asked by someone or other on a few occasions since Grade 9, but I usually just said "Meh... nah." but now that I don't feel like I have anything better to do, maybe I'll check it out.

I read John Lennon's 1980 interview. It's so odd - it seems like he hated listening to music after the Beatles. Quite fascinating. He could never listen to the Beatles music, understandably, because he only could hear the session it took to record it. Like, thinking who was there, and where he was standing, and picturing himself banging the tambourine. And he completely slanders recordings of "Across the Universe" and "Strawberry Fields," because he never felt they were recorded right, although it's hard for me to personally imagine them sounding better, either of them. Reading it is like reading the words of a madman who is a genius but just can't deal with the world he has made. For one of the most famous people in the world, he sure did have a lot of resentment. And 2 weeks later, he was dead. And that was the last public record the world ever had of John Lennon the man. Optimistically I'd like to think that over the course of time, had he not died of course, his resentment would have faded, but then I think realistically, it must have been too difficult to be John Lennon, and that would have been impossible. It probably would have just festered, and he would have said even more mean things about his former bandmates. That's the impresion I got of John Lennon, anyway. In hindsight.

Kris, my venerable cousin, once said that he thought he hated the Beatles because most of their songs were, like, "She Loves You," and simple things like that, but that as time wore on and he heard more of their later stuff, he realized that they - and John Lennon in particular - were geniuses.

After spending last Saturday with my baby cousin Cameron, age 1, I decided that the only sensible way to communicate is monosyllabically. Just try pointing at something and saying "Ba," and you'll see what I mean. It's a lot easier without all those words in the way.

Just watched "The Girl Next Door." I can't decide if it was a shitty movie that was well-written, of a good movie that was written like shit. Either way, I hated it. It was a waste of Elisha Cuthbert, who can act. *1/2 of 5 stars.

Got a horrible stomachache today. Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Tenth: More Magic and Medicine

I was re-reading my critique of the Coral's 2003 disc, "Magic and Medicine," and noticed that I harshed on it perhaps unreasonably. Indeed, I was immediately bitter and shocked that it wasn't as great their debut (at least, not the same,) but now that the shock has worn off and I've gotten to know most of the tracks, I feel like I have a better idea of it.

When the album is stong, it's as strong as the previous album. When it's weak, it's quite noticible, but forgivable because of the strength elsewhere. It may be more sentimental by multiples, but the material is overall strong, perhaps because of it. Here's a comparison of the 11 tracks on it, against the 11 tracks on "The Coral."

#1) Spanish Main: A quick song that proclaims, repeatedly, that "We'll set sail again/We're headin' for the Spanish Main," with a rocking guitar riff that rolls like sea waves, thus telling the listener that we're heading on an adventure.

In the Forest: Similarly, the Coral take us to another geographical location - the woods. Setting the somber, reflective mood of the album, it's bulkier than "Spanish Main," but does the same job as well. It also contains my favourite lyrical cocktease, "You'll never know how much I...... you."

#2) I Remember When: A rock track that reminisces, and then changes gears and becomes furious in the chorus, it oozes a mystical nostalgia and an angry youth at the same time.

Don't Think You're The First: Though simplistic in its rhyming couplets, it's more straightforward, and has a good point. It's quite a frustrated indictment of some poor subject who think's they're unique in their despair, and kind of unites all humanity under the same several experiences.

#3) Shadows Fall: This chilling sea ballad seems to lament a sailor lost at sea, but is put into a larger context, which seems to be the basic premise of the album. It's one of the most strongly orchestrated songs on the album.

Liezah: My favourite song on the second album, this ode to 60's brit-pop ballads (a la Herman's Hermits?) laments a girl whose habit was breaking men's hearts in every possible way. It's passive tune and almost sighing delivery, along with a beautifully picked guitar track make it among the strongest songs on this album.

#4) Dreaming of You: In many ways, the best song on the first album, this is just pure Brit-Pop, with its bouncy bass line and teen-dream lyrics, singer James Skelly (I believe,) lets loose on this one, as does the rest of the group. Lyrically, it's the one that is most likely to be a hit.

Talkin' Gypsy Market Blues: Lyrically, the track that is most likely to be a forgotten album track, this song tells a story of the singer, who went out looking for some Gypsy Boots, but couldn't find them, but in the end gets reassurance from the beautiful daughter of an old man from a car park. It's the most guitar-driven song on the album, and as for the vocals, Skelly just doesn't stop once he's started.

#5) Simon Diamond: The most absurd entry in the first album, this song tells the story of a young man who, faced with the pressures of modern life, transformed himself into a tree. I think of it as "Stairway to Heaven" in less than 3 minutes, because it starts slow and quiet, and builds to a balls-out anthem.

Secret Kiss: Listening to the album, this has become one of the msot intolerable tracks for me to listen to. It's kind of a candle-light ballad, and somewhat romantic, but not structured as well as several other songs.

#6 Goodbye: Like "I Remember When" from earlier, and "Waiting for the Heartaches" after it, this song starts almsot as a ballad, but because of its natural build, just becomes an angst-filled shoutfest, as you can sense the singer almost tearing up when he sings "Once, so very long ago.../was when I loved you so.../if only I had known..." but toughens up in the chorus, "Goodbye.../Don't say Goodbye...!" It's so organic you have to wonder if that's even the song they thought they were writing when they started.

Milkwood Blues: In my opinion, this song is too like "Secret Kiss" to have been placed after it, because it's too much in that sad, lamentable, romantic feeling that was over used already in the previous track. On it's own, it works better, and best as an instrumental. Like "Goodbye," it contains a countdown from 10 to 1.

#7 Waiting for the Heartaches: Lyrically, among the stongest of the album, because the subject matter is so rare. It just radiates self-pity and doubt, in lines like "But I can't understand/Why she's holding my hand..." just before he launches into the chorus where the singer proclaims that there's "Noi way that I can possibly run" from the inevitable heartbreak.

Bill McCai: Probably the cleverest thing the boys ever wrote, (and exclusively of from the mind of James Skelly,) Bill McCai is the chilling tale of how normal life can just kill you. It follows the title character from the carefree days of his youth to the dreadful plainness of his life as a grown man. "And every day when he gets the train/looks out the window, thinks in vain/if I could only be that boy again..." so sad. The song hits the nail again when he sings "His wife can't stand the sight of him/with his routine glass of Gin/She makes his lunch of processed ham/and waits in for the meter man..." It's so upbeat that whenever it gets depressing, the effect is doubled because of the seeming lack of concern from the narrators. In fact, the bounciest part of the song is the lyric at the end tha treveals his fate. The verse: "His family gathers round for tea/Eyes fixed on their new Telly/Newsflash came, then it said/Bill McCai was just found dead..." leads into the best refrain of the song "No more windows, no more trains/Hung himself out in the rain/Now he'll never be that boy again..." The narrator's complete lack of sympathy drives the point home: "And we say BYE BYE, BILL MCCAI.....!" The song hits you in the face in the middle of the albumn and, upon second or third listen, gives you something better to look forward to.

#8) Skeleton Key: Ripping their instruments apart in this hailstorm of a song, this is the one that lets loose more than any other. Its supernatural ramblings about beds of nails and pointing fingers, shipwrecks and intricate locks, make no sense really, but it's a gripping listen.

Eskimo Lament: The most uniquely sentimental song on the album, the song goes for two verses with a very somber individual reciting "Rain, rain, go away..." and then gets razzed by an array of brass instruments, it's very well orchistrated. Then, it becomes a great vocal exercise for the group, who didn't get as much background vocal play on this as last.

#9) Wildfire: This rapid change-off song is among the stronger lyrics on the album, the entire song just chugs along, with a great liquidy guitar and keyboard instrumentation, "Wildfire/I desire to be loved/Climb higher/to the platform just above/Little liar/You deceive me with your wit/elocution/sculpted perfectly to fit." It comes at a crucial point in the album when the identity of it has already been decided and a very solid song needs to signal the beginning of the end of the album.

Careless Hands: Part of me just thinks "Ugh God, Secret Kiss part 2..." and part of me thinks that lyrically, "Careless Hands" is as sophisticated of a love song as any modern musician can conjure up. So lyircally, it's impressive, but at this point in the album, hearing Skelly warble love ballads gets tiring, and we're ready for the change that comes afterward.

#10) Bad Man: Beginning with an enthusiastic swing-based drum solo, Bad Man is the most socially cirtiquing song thus far on the album. It makes a plight for this man, who just constantly referred to as "Bad." Lyrically strong, musically superb.

Pass it On: One of the 3 or 4 best tracks on the album, "Pass it On" culminates all the balladry of the album into this great track. It conveys greater emotional depth than the rest of the ballads, and the tune is janglier and more catchy than most of the songs they've recorded.

#11) Calendars and Clocks: It takes an epic song to end an epic album, and this song does that. It ends the album - then brings it back for an encore. The song supposedly is 11 minutes long, but that is the track length, it is actually 2 different songs. The first ends after 6 and someodd minutes, and then aftr over a minute of solid silence, a single guitar brings us back into the album's murky depths, singing a dirge about the evils of time travel, using that as a platform for the most politcal song on the album. The pair make for a stunning composition that doesn't tire any more than 2 seperate tracks would. The second part actually makes reference to the title of the second album, "Magic & Medicine"

Confessions of an A.D.D.D.: I don't know what A.D.D.D. is, but in any case this is a very good song. It lays down all sorts of wild accusations on this character, and then then joins the whole audience together with the phrase, "And if you think it's you then let me know." It's not quite as epic as "Calendars and Clocks," but it wraps things up better than if the album had ended with any different track.

So that's my big time-killer for today. Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Ninth: What's one life?

Sometimes I wish I could write a song about being in love with an Uptown Girl. Then I could be in the music video as a singing-and-dancing car mechanic. And it would sell millions and I'd be a rich celebrity and I'd love it. Except then I'd be Billy Joel. Fuck it, I'd rather write "We Didn't Start the Fire."

It's been sort of an idiosynchratic week. I've been all over the place, torn from one end to the other, doing every possible thing that can be expected. I can't stand the douchebags I have to work with in the Cafe. What kind of person can't wait for the light to turn off on the dishwasher? "Take it out, it's done," he says, except that the red "Wash" light is still on, the jets are still going and the rinse cycle has not yet begun. Fuckin' moron. Every time he opens that dishwasher a minute and a half early, it twists the knife in my stomach. It shouldn't take a genius to understand that red light equals dishwasher ON.

In Drama, we did this "Blackout" sketch and it was a hilarious wreck. Like, we were fucked because we weren't going to improv it, so we wrote a script, which nobody - myself included - really managed to memorize. So we fumbled our way through it and tried to hit all the key points. At first I was put-off because I was getting no audience reaction in my "Enthusiastic hero" role, and even the transition into perverted street-groper didn't get such a huge reaction (the radio announces that a pervert escaped after being pepper-sprayed, and I come in rubbing my eye - come on!) But as soon as we started really getting into the pervert jokes, the audience was with it. I'm still proud that I stetched out the "boobie-touching" line with a graphic hand-gesture, to capitalize on the unexpectedly quiet reaction. Seriously, we couldn't keep a straight face in rehearsal, but the audience wasn't going for it as much as they could have. Then later, someone dropped a line and we all froze, and after a couple seconds I could feel it all going wrong so I did my best to cover be ad-libbing - "Somebody pelase break the tension..." in order to kickstart the thing. Being it in was a mess, but watching it might have been even more funny than if it had gone off as planned. Ryan Goad then razzed me afterward "That's why you don't write a script!" But what does he know? The only funny thing about his was Doug, who is, like, the king of improv. In ours, because we had a script, we had a dramatic arc that was, for better or worse, the strength of the presentation. We had the audience, I think, right where we wanted them by the time we went into the very serious "Book of Revelations" series of events at the end. And I got one more laugh with "So... we won?"

The thing I love about Drama is not acting. It's writing, and getting immediate crowd reactions. The thing about the comics is that I have to ask people what they think, but you don't have to ask when a crowd is roaring with laughter after something you said - or at least wrote, that someone else has said - I love that immediate gratification.

I remember, during the Columbine project, when we had some Grade 12's sit in on a dress rehearsal and they were practically in tears by the end, because of some of the stuff I had written. The euology - which Steph Guest delivered flawlessly - came from my own brain with no outside resources, and was perhaps the most poignant part of the whole play. The play had a great ending - and that was not mine, except in my performance, but virtually everything in the script was me, often with participation with Josh and sometimes Goad, except for the odd scene. Before the rewrites, the script was superficial and shallow, and just bland. Ater the rewrites we did, it was pretty deep, and full, and is about my favourite thing I've ever done in Drama. At least that I have written.

On performances, I'll never forget doing "Try Again Eugene." That monologue was the best - possibly only worthwhile - monologue from the WOSS Sears entry "Sometimes I Wake Up in the Middle of the Night," and just happened to originally be performed by my own brother Eric, which is perhaps why it stood out to me, but it was undeniably a great piece, and I loved doing it. Because it was true, it was I was thinking at the time, and often still think to this day. "Try again, Eugene." It oozed pathos and self-pity. It was fierce, and sensitive, and I got to yell "I'M SICK OF THIS CRAP!" (Note: The script originally said "Shit," but in Grade 10 you can't say "Shit" in Drama. That's a Grade 11 word. "Fuck" is a Grade 12 word. And you can't say "jizz," "cunt" or "faggot" under any circumstances. Strangely enough, one need not come of age before being allowed to say "dyke," because I tossed that word about pretty heavily in Grade 9, although I consider it to be equally derogatory as "faggot.")

On a saddening note, we're not doing the Fringe this year. Josh and I agreed that we wouldn't have the time to devote ourselves to it this year. And considering the near-failure of "Half-Past," we're not eager to again risk defeat. Once is enough. And plus, we wouldn't have as good of a script. I don't know if I'll ever write another script as good as "Half-Past." I declare it at this moment as the best single piece I've ever written. The point is, we had that experience, we'll always look upon it fondly, and we wouldn't want to taint it in any way.

Ana claims to have the "best Fringe idea ever," which is a statement I take exception to. But I wouldn't say that to her.

I'm going to have the script to "Half-Past" up on the site for download, soon. Which reminds me, I added a couple of song lyrics to the page for the first time in a couple weeks.

So what's one life?

Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Eighth: Fuck n' Run Redux

What a week.

I've eased back into school by now and things are getting settled. I've already written something against my will - a drama presentation. Everybody likes the script.

Strangely, in Drama, when we were doing "what's up this weekend?" I got a pretty big reaction for my Great Grandpa's birthday. It's his 100th, and I guess most people aren't used to hearing about centennigenarians. So I enjoyed blowing their mind with that.

Josh and I had to change our idea for Commtech. Apparently Mockumentary isn't as good of an idea as we'd thought. Or as original. It turns out that every year somebody tries Mockumentary, and every year it sucks. So rather than do a mockumentary just to spite him and risk failing, we thought we'd just resurrect another idea we never really got around to.

I find myself being kinda bipolar lately. Actually I'm usually bipolar, but I'm noticing it more these days. When I'm good, I'm good, and when I'm bad, whoo boy.

Well on that deeply personal and somewhat depressing note, Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Seventh: Coward.

I'm pissed off at myself.

Here's how it came about: I was writing out my little memoir about Girls, and in all my stories, it basically amounts to the fact that I'm a coward. Like, msot of the time I couldn't own up to it for myself. Or My cowardly double-dealing ends up screwing me over. Or my own inemptitude frustrates me to the point where she begins to think I'm a serial killer.

In Grade 5, the first time I ever told a girl face to face that I liked her, she told me that while she liked me, she could not commit. And did this screw me up for the rest of my life? What the fuck? Could this little insignificant moment have really affected my psyche so much that to this day I cannot function within the normal perameters of society??? I should have gotten over it long ago! And you know what? I DID get over it long ago. The rejection I can take, but FUCK. Will I always be haunted by that one example of incompetance? And all opf the other examples which followed because of it? I can pinpoint several different points in my life when, if I had just not been a coward (or an idiot) things would have turned out differently. But hindsight is 20/20.

God I can't even live with myself right now. And I don't want to live in the past, but this is my past and it's quite upsetting. And I just want to get it all out. Will I stop being such a fucking coward? Probably not. But maybe now that I recognize it I can better evaluate situations, and actually make decisions that shouldn't be so difficult.

The story of my life is a sad one, indeed. I must find some way to make ammends this year. That is my goal. I need to rectify a situation that should have been fixed years ago, and would have, but for my own fears and incompetance.

Sorry for the bitter-sounding entry kids. Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Sixth: Fuck 'n' Run

Today was the second day of school. Hell of a day. Not a great day, but busy.

Communications is going to be infinitely better this year than last. Josh and I basically decided we were going to make a Mockumentary about Kyle, who's palying a struggling or washed-up actor. That whole this was Josh;s idea and I love it. Not that it makes any difference to me, but it's a mostly good class. Ana (who made a surprise return to WOSS this year) is in this class, as is Nicki, (who was glad to see me 'cause before that she didn't know if she knew anybody in the class. I had the same feeling.) It's actually a really small class, which could be fun.

In second period, I work in the Cafe, which is kinda nice, because in 2nd, it's not as much hustle-and-bustle as 3rd period. It's mostly prep work, and when you're serving (as I did today,) you don't have to do too much. Of course, there will be a rotation of tasks so eventually I think I'll have to do some work, but at least I won't be running around like a maniac in third period.

My last period of the day, 3rd period, is Drama. And basically anyone who took Grade 12 Drama got put into the same class, so there's over 30 people in the class. A big change from last year's 14. It should be interesting before the end.

I could go home any time I want after Drama. No more class. But usually I stick around and have lunch with Kyle, Josh, and whoever's around them (ie Angela, Jessica, etc.) It's not as much fun as last year - last year there was only the 5 of us most of the time, and now there's this huge crowd so I hardly say anything. But I want to avoid getting all weird and frustrated like in Grade 10.

I think this is going to be like Grade 10, but better because I've changed since then. Semester 1 of Grade 12 is Semester 1 of Grade 10 in reverse, and minus Civics/Careers.

But enough rambling. I just think it's funny that my day ends at 12:12, which is roughly the time I was getting up in the summer. So I'm using all that time I was spending on sleep, to be in school. Ugh.

Eric got a $5 bill with a URL on it - "www.whereswilly.com" follows $5 bills around the country, being tracked whenever somebody gets it, goes to the URL, and puts in their postal code. This one started in Hamilton, spent a month in Burlington and now has been in Oakville for a couple of weeks. And it's been in Eric's possession for a day or so, and he'll probably just end up spending it at the same place he got it (convenience store.) It would be cooler, though, if he didn't spend it until he went all the way up to North Bay or something, and then we'd see a cool journey.

But it's an interesting experiment, tracking $5 bills. Probably thousands of such bills change hands every day. That's an amusing thought.

Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The fifth: Checkin' in

Hey y'all. Just checking in before the first day of Grade 12. Sorry for not being around all weekend (not just on Blog,) but I've already explained.

Okay, time to go jump off a cliff (...a metaphorical cliff.)

Keep on Rockin'
Scott

The Fourth: Radio Active

This is gonna be a short entry.

I'm sapped of energy, because I haven't been on my computer all weekend... Eric took it. I'm on Brandon's right now, while he's, uh... elsehwere. So I haven't been able to absorb all that delicious radiation that can keep me percolating all night long. So sad. It makes my blood boil the way Eric does this, but I'd sooner die than try to have an argument with him about it. So I put up with it and wait for him to crash from being awake for 65 straight hours or whatever the fuck.

The countdown is on. Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Third: My past.

Lacking anything better to say, I think I'll give you this exerpt from my project, "Girls"...

Passionately, she poured her heart out to me, and I responded in kind. I can’t recall all the words, but I remember her biggest point was that yes, she really cared about me, and my feelings, because she had recently gone through a rough period with Drew that ended badly, she was evidently feeling very insecure, and essentially said, in more or less these exact words,
“I just know that I’ll end up hurting you the same as I hurt him, and I don’t want to; I care about you too much, and I can’t make the promise that I won’t.”
To which I quickly and thoughtfully replied, “Carolyn… I don’t want to make you make that promise.”
Pretty heavy stuff for 11 year olds, right? Basically, she was saying she cared SO MUCH that she couldn’t go through with it. It’s a nasty paradox, the logic of which eludes me to this day. My response was a little naïve, being so young I had the idea that I’d be prepared for whatever eventually happened, whether she broke me heart or it ended happily ever after, I figured it would be worth it, so I was trying to give her the signal that everything would be all right.
Well, she either was so touched, upset, or embarrassed, that she ran out of the place crying, and I was left to wonder exactly what had happened. I thought, at the time, that I was on the verge of something, but Carolyn and I broke contact after Grade 5.

Later that summer, Drew called me up and delivered the bad news that she had started going out with my other best friend, Daron Webb.

Such is my life. Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The Second: A big list.

I stole this from Becky's. And did it my way.

TEN Things You Did
(o1) Moved
(o2) Wrote a movie
(o3) Wrote/drew a comic
(o4) Met a gal who lives on the other side of the continent
(o5) Helped sell lemonade
(o6) Walked dogs
(o7) Got a job
(o8) Broke up with girlfriend
(o9) Watched TV
(1o) Listened to music

NINE Favorite bands of the Summer
(o1) Aerosmith
(o2) Beatles
(o3) Clash
(o4) The Coral
(o5) Rolling Stones
(o6) Nirvana
(o7) The Who
(o8) Rush
(o9) Monkees

EIGHT Places You Ate At
(o1) Home
(o2) Mr. Sub
(o3) A&W
(o4) McDonald's
(o5) Tim Horton's
(o6) Aunt Lori's
(o7) Dad's
(o8) Dairy Queen

SEVEN Things that Annoyed You
(o1) Eric
(o2) Boredom
(o3) Futility of existence
(o4) Not having money
(o5) insects
(o6) lonliness
(o7) lack of sleep - or abundance. Both, really.

SIX Things You Bought
(o1) comics
(o2) Sorcery Ball
(o3) A new house
(o4) food (groceries)
(o5) beverages
(o6) Suprise bag

FIVE Things You Accomplished
(o1) Wrote entire movie
(o2) Drew entire comic
(o3) moved with very little 3rd party help
(o4) made a truly painless breakup.
(o5) put up with my brothert in close quarters for 2 and a half months without committing murder

FOUR Movies You Saw
(o1) Being There
(o2) Rushmore
(o3) Butterfly Effect
(o4) Kill Bill volume 2

THREE Things You Wish You Did
(o1) Found a new girl
(o2) Gotten out in society more
(o3) Gotten a job sooner.

TWO Rules You Broke
(o1) We don't talk about fight club
(o2) Be nice to the creators

ONE Thing You LOVED About This Summer
(o1) Having my time todo whatever the fuck I want.

Take from that what you will. Mazel tov, which is Yiddish for Keep on Rockin'
-Scott

The First: Rushmore and Registration

Eric and I just watched Rushmore. It's a charming dramedy from the people behind Royal Tenenbaums. It's funny, then it's sad and gets deflated in the middle, but it perks up for an interesting ending. ***/5.

I registered for school today. So my feet are wet in terms of school. So there's just no turning back now. I have to laugh at myself right now, because I have got to be the luckiest or unluckiest person in the world. As I've said before, I'm looking at the best semester ever. At the same time, my last semester ever in high school will therefore involve English, Writer's Craft, and Law. Tricky stuff to deal with on your way out. Then again, it's better to have an easy first semester, as I've experienced in the past. When my second semester was loaded with Humanities and Drama last year, I was going bonkers.

So I'm going into Grade 12. It's hard to believe. Sometimes it feels like it's still 2001, I'm still going into Grade 9, I'm still nervous. I've just gotten the hang of this "high school" thing and it's almost over. I think back to the early days and it's just hard to believe that it was so long ago. Maybe it's just my unwillingness to grow up. I think this means there's something fundamentally wrong with me. I've been thinking about Grade 8 a lot. That year really set the mold for what sort of person I've grown into - and that person is incredibly fucked up, but doing okay. That was the year I met Randi. That was the year I became a decent writer. That was the year I discovered my tendancy to use guerrella tactics to win people over. It was a weird fuckin' year. And it was almost 4 years ago. And I've barely changed. Actually, that's not true - I think I did change, in Grade 10, and then changed back. Or maybe it's more like a graph, and I'm back to the same place I was in Grade 8. Weird.

I just thought about everything I wrote in that above paragraph, and laughed. Funny how seeing my own insanity in writing cheers me up.

I added some new songs to the lyrics section. None of which I'm particularly proud, but they're part of my work so sI might as well flesh that oevre out by including them.

The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of getting a girl. It's one thing that's not like it was back in Grade 8. I look back on that and laugh at what an awkward little nebbish I was. Over the past 3 years -- okay, over the past year... 6 months, really -- I've gained confidence. I'm better. Haven't I already said that elsewhere on this blog? Some previous post? Don't care. It's still true, and I'll fight anyone who disagrees.

Sidenote: at registration last year, the girl, my own age, who gave out cards for the ID pictures had to ask what my name was. This year, same girl, she didn't ask. Funny.

Here's hoping this year works out. Keep on Rockin'
-Scotto