002: Strange little angels

It's difficult to explain what kind of rut I'm in.

Not a "depressed" rut. Not inherently, althought it's a bit of a downer when I think about all the wonderful things the people I know are doing, wherever they may be doing it and when, for better or worse, they're out there experiencing places and things totally unrelated to this town, this culture, these people.

Now, I do not think that there is anything wrong with this town, this culture, these people. There are, numerically speaking, as many or fewer faults here than any other place I might hypothetically be. Not to speak to grandly of the issue, however, I was just thinking about the sort of stasis I've entered, particularly over the past year.

This was brought on during a conversation with Alyssa, who is evidently enjoying herself in fresh new surroundings in Alberta. It's a matter, I told her, of self-realization and perspective. As I put it, "you can't see yourself properly if you're only looking from one perspective." As you go new places and find yourself in new situations, you see different aspects of yourself that you may not have realized, even if they were always there.

Therein lies my issue, that I haven't found as many opportunities for new perspective. I haven't found many and I've taken fewer. Everyone I know surpasses me in this category to such a great degree. As longtime readers will note, I'm still living at home, going to a school not 20 minutes of walking away from my house. Everyone I can think of in my age bracket has found many opportunities for this. They dishearten some and enthrall others (including one friend who has been particularly obnoxious, but no names -- it's not really relevant.) I am, as she so perfectly elocuted, "a creature of habit and comfort." Not deniable.

Am I upset at this? No, merely frustrated. If I could feasibly find a way to change my surroundings, just for a little while, I'd (likely) be satisfied. It's an overanalytical examination of your typical desire for a vacation of some kind. Don't take these words as anything more than idle musings. I'm not crying out for help, I'm just understandably bored.

From this comes the inspiration for my next project to write, to get my stress out about this issue. I also just want to write something funny, with the simple goal of getting a few laughs and moving on, not having some grand romantic or melodramatic arc, like certain things I've done.

I was watching a documentary about Canadians in the world of comedy entitled "Comedy Gold," and it was interesting if a little glad-handed. I don't want to speak for the guy, but this seems like the kind of thing Haasim would like to dissect. It recounts many famous Canadians' monumental contributions to comedy, including the usual names like Mike Myers and Air Farce, but provides little real insight into why Canadians gravitate toward comedy. My thought is that we're such a plain, unassuming country, when everything's settled, we notice little amusing details more.

But the problem, as I see it, is that the country is manifestly obsessed with its history in comedy. Yes, we've had some great comedy shows, but most countries have. Plus, a lot of these greats aren't really that good when you boil it down. Air Farce and 22 Minutes are shows that I particularly denounce as ineffectual corny punchline gags that feel like dinosaurs in an age the Daily Show and even a good episode of Saturday Night Live. And SCTV is good only depending on what you feel like laughing at on that given day. If TV parodies and silly characters aren't up your alley, then the show is dead in the water.

Then again, Canada gave the world the Newsroom, Kids in the Hall, Corner Gas (which surprised me the first time I saw it with how good it is,) and of course, Myers and Jim Carrey. So we're definitely capable of good. We're just too obsessed with "We're Canadian and we're funny." It's not an absolute - go watch Comedy at Club 54 or the Holmes Show for proof. By the same token you could say Canadians have a great ear for rock and roll because we gave the world Rush, The Guess Who and Neil Young. True, but we also gave them Loverboy, Chilowak and Trooper.

I wonder about "The Apprentice." Does Donald Trump accept resumes for positions to be filled in his company, or must everyone now compete on the show? And do they have an unlimited supply of jobs for these people, or... do they just end up working as consultants on the next "Apprentice," and leave once that show's over? I wonder.

I had this dream (yep, don't think they'd go away by now,) that chilled me to the bone. There was this fake reality set up inside a garage and I observed someone being made to believe this was in fact a real situation they were living. Like a smaller, more paranoid Truman Show. And just as I had revealed to this person that he or she was not living the existence he or she thought, the wall beings to pull upward and an ominous voice informs me that the very same ruse has been perpetrated upon me. And suddenly I worry about where reality truly lies. In this dream state I am uncovering untruths about who I am and how I live... I can't shake the image, the feeling of shock as it suddenly dawns on me - I am but a pawn, not a player, in a Chess Game perceptible to all but me.

And that's all. I've ranted fairly extensively tonight. There's a lot of business to discuss, but events will always be there to be recalled (such is the magic of memory,) but I might never have given this rant... these rants... a formal existence if I'd gone through the usual "what I did today" spiel. Not much to tell, but there's still something.

Such is the magic of this blog. It's disorganized, yes, and any attempt to distill any one psot into any of category would dilute it to a mere paragraph here or there. Likewise, they are not to e categorized, such is the nature of the blog. It's all in my head, and I'm just here to pull up the door to the reality you didn't expect.

Or something. It's late, I'm tired. Thep point is, more some other night. Plenty more. tomorrow. I promise.

Keep on rockin'
-The Scott Williams you know