I’ve read several I-MocKery editorials and pretty much loved them all. Everything from Inviting Dexter Morgan to guest appear on re-runs of Home Improvement to take out the Tool-Man to the five things to love/hate about Attack of the Clones has made me laugh my ass off so much I can no longer poop (yeah, a poop joke, I’m not tired enough to be witty.) Then there was the surprisingly heartfelt and moving essay Max wrote about his father that made me and others want to see this bastard write a fucking book already if he hasn’t by the time this is posted (I’m not that in depth remember?) But Today I’ve found an article to easily relate to: the Geek Hierarchy.

The Geek Hierarchy lists every possible Geek I could myself imagine (except for the Word Nerd, but I’ve only ever known one so that’s not really enough of a basis for me to make fun of, plus she’d beat the living shit out of me if I did.) I was proud to find the geek I connect the most with (more so then the comic geek you just read about) considered the coolest of the geeks. I am a Music Geek first and foremost. Eleven days worth of music on my computer may not seem like a lot to other music geeks but it is to many of my friends (the “arty” crowd and the “party” crowd.) I’ve dug up the corners of Southern Ontario (I’m not bloody rich enough to travel the whole goddamn world!) looking for Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk by Jeff Buckley despite already having it on my laptop. I went on a spree of Elliott Smith once I heard Queens of the Stone Age cover Christian Brothers. I saw Run with the Kittens at Jimmy Jazz in Guelph and bought their three albums at the set break (I got a free sticker with them ) I relentlessly talk about music and bands to anybody willing to start the conversation and I like to know what somebody likes about a particular band. I’ve been trying to be good about not smashing bands I don’t like because I’ve met some people who are super sensitive about the music they like (so they should be, music is fucking life affirming, unless you like the Jonas Brothers, then there’s no saving you – bad easy jokes, that’s one reason why I’m no where near as good as Yahtzee, but I’m not going to kiss his ass about it.) I like to read about what my favourite artists like to listen to both currently and in their earlier stages. I’m currently trying to find a decent torrent for the works of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan (then I’ll have something to hold over the heads of the Indie crowd, the snot-nosed bastards that they are to snot-nosed bastards like my self.) Final uninteresting facts: I’m an album and an EP short of Mark Lanegan’s solo career and I’m still trying to fucking find Greg Dulli’s Amber Headlights (I’ve ordered it from HMV, they took my money, and I have yet to see it in the fucking store – stupid receipt smudged got smudged after being in my file for four months, silly me.)

F Words Galore!

I’ve met some form of every geek on the list (including the snot-nosed Indie version- BASTARDS!) I took a cinema course last year so I’ve met enough movie geeks. A lot of them liked to reference their favourite art house movies to gain cred. The final assignment was a film review. At first I wanted to do I’m Not There, one of my favourite movies (not sure whether that gets me cred or takes it away) but after hearing what everybody else wanted to do I decided my best course of action would be the most politically incorrect movie I knew of at the time: Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter. The movie nerd in me who hates arty movie nerds figured it would be a nice break for whoever was marking the papers to see a religiously stupid film both praised and trashed in the same paper. I hope whoever did Atonement didn’t lick Joe Write’s ass clean, but that’s just me.

A lot of my friends from elementary school through to now have been some kind of video game nerd. I remember some of them discussing “clans” for Starcraft and myself not really wanting to know what they were talking about. I remember playing Return to Castle Wolfenstein online and hearing myself called a “noob” for the first time (I suppose language with this kind of exclusive attitude from online clans would make them the Indie crowd of video games – snot-nosed bastards) because I unwittingly logged onto a “clan-only” game and was subsequently “pwned”.  I lose a lot of cred with video game geeks for a few simple facts: 1) I own a PS3 (if it was ninety-seven dollars you’d get one too); 2) as stated previously I hate mmorpgs..mmorgips? fuck it, they blow; 3) I don’t like Halo – too many of my friends play it too much that when I play against them I might as well be strapped to a chair having Yao Ming stair-climbing on my testicles (wow that was a bad one, and if you’ve read this far it’s your own bloody fault.) The nerd in me gets excited for the Metal Gear Solid and Grand Theft Auto games, but he also doesn’t give two shits about Half-Life or Counter Strike (two names I heard a lot from a few friends in elementary school – my life is my own choice.) All in all I’ve known many a video game dork. I do consider myself to be one at times although judging by the statistics I’m a fairly bad one. But the article points out the difference between gamers and mmmmmmmmmmorpigers so perhaps I’m not as fargone as I assumed.

While growing up and trying to discover what kind of person to become I would witness my cousins playing Warhammer 40000. I liked the figures, building them, painting them, but I was buggered if I was going to play the game. Later on in life I was buggered if I ever touched the damn things.

I already mentioned the comic book nerd thing so to recap: Batman, Neil Gaiman, Sin City, Watchmen, and the occasional foray into Marvel comics.

I like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the film Serenity.

The article didn’t mention Westerns (the spaghetti, the thoughtful ie Unforgiven, and the ultra violent ie. the Proposition) but I assume they fall under movie geek.

Sports geek: I’m English, I love Football (do I need to translate?) My father’s an Evertonian so I can either support him and the six others in the province or join the sheep and support Liverpool. NEVER CHELSEA! But I’ve always been the one to play sports over watch them, unless it’s Hockey or Volleyball, which I suck beyond belief at and would watch with my friends. I don’t paint myself. I’m a pretty shitty sports geek.

Sci-Fi: I tried watching Star Trek, but I just didn’t give enough of a shit. Nemesis sucked, Episodes 1-3 sucked, haven’t bothered with Dr. Who.  I mentioned I liked Serenity though right?

I tried watching Anime as a kid. A lot of dorky things I’ve mostly done as a kid. Tapes of Appleseed, Guyver, Akira, and Cyber City Oedo 808 stand out most in my mind. The cousins who played Warhammer owned these. I’ve tried to watch a few others here and there, but I find most of them too funny to take seriously. I’ve met three kinds of Anime kids (or Otaku, whatever the fuck that means.) I’ve met some down to earth, good looking (Yeah I know, shocking right?), regular people who really like manga and have been or want to go to a convention. So Otaku (I’m probably using this word incorrectly) can actually be normal people. They can also be like the gentleman I knew from high school who stored anime porn on his PSP and watched it on the bus to school (yikes!) or they can be like the girls from that same high school who drew that porn and (another Yahtzee quote that is all too applicable yet remains improperly cited) smell like old meat. I’m gonna leave the last two kinds of Otaku I’ve met in nutshell form because I didn’t actually know them that well. One had a crush on me, but that just gave me (an awkward teenager) more of a reason to not talk to that person.

Band Geek: My high school band experience was much different from the ones I witness on television, so I feel like we get a bad rap. My high school band never had any uniforms (the school itself was Catholic, so we didn’t need anymore on top of the gym uniforms and the many different athletic association uniforms – and by need I mean want, that kid in I-Mockery’s photograph is pretty damn disturbing.) We had two different experiences: The first teacher was a hot/insane Italian woman who would do whatever songs were easiest to get, she was nice when she wasn’t insane- kinda like a human bungee cord. The second teacher was a professional blues keysman (if I’ve invented a term, USE IT!) who was cool beyond belief. The band became fewer in number and played Muddy Waters, Jaco Pastorius, and Ray Charles tunes. While still being a predominately white band, we played the first ever energetic Black History Month assembly (at our school at least.) It was in part an after school hang out for sleazy jokes and cool music. So from my experience I am proud of my band geek period. I didn’t have to dress up as a dork soldier (just a Christian one – different story, wolf in sheep’s clothes) and I got to take part in a raunchy good time.

The choir kids on the other hand – shitty singers with shitty attitudes. Why do ugly 15 year olds who stalk your humble writer have to talk nonstop about sex? THE CHOIR LEADER/RELIGION TEACHER THREATENED TO HAVE ME BEAT THEM UP! If they had kids Tokyo’d be fucked. They smelled worse then old meat. One girl’s voice gave the impression that she always needed a throat lozenge. Ever had somebody make you cry every time you heard their voice? I know my rant is more asshole-like then actually relevant, but the whole damn blog has been that so far.

I’ve never seen a war reenactment outside of the Simpsons/South Park…. but they were funny episodes.

I’ve seen ren faires. I can respect people who do that for a living because I can imagine them putting up with a lot of shit from tourists and snobby rich kids. I think Ghost Tour Leaders should fall somewhere close to this. The only tour I’ve been on was an entertaining experience. If the leader is very sarcastic and seems to hate his job and all the tourists, it actually makes the tour more fun. There was also a drunk German man shouting at the group before the tour began, who the leader also openly mocked. But then again, sarcasm makes me smile.

The LARPer is an entirely new concept to me, and like anything else with the words Role and Playing put together it scares the shit out of me. I used to pretend I was a knight as a kid, but like I’ve mentioned I was a kid when I tried a lot of dorky things. I shouldn’t judge, but that is quite a fucking hobby. I’ve never met somebody who openly does this, so I’ll never know why they simply can’t play paintball. But alas, I’m a simple man.

Furries………

A friend told me she was a closet Furry and that’s really all we’ve ever spoke about it. He/She never mentioned whether he/she likes furry porn or dressing up like a furry and looking at porn or dressing up like a furry and looking at furry porn or dressing up like a furry and having PORKO! with another person dressed up like a furry or just hanging out in a squirrel outfit with a sword strapped to his/her waist. I don’t wish to learn what makes a furry a furry just as I don’t wish to see 2 Girls 1 Cup no matter how many of my friends have. What does interest me though is a hockey game between Furries and Otaku. I just think it’d be entertaining to see. Maybe get Don Cherry to Ref. Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine could comment on the game. I don’t know, I’m just thinking.

I think I might know some people who are secretly fan fiction writers. I don’t know for sure I just have some suspicions. Just an ickling really.

Anyway……. let’s do a run down my own geekiness:

Music Geek: Check plus;

Movie Geek: Check;

Video Gamer: Check Minus;

Sports Geek: Check Minus;

Comic Geek: Check (I read them but I stay away from the stores, too much role playing and too many trench coats)

Sci-Fi Geek: judgement call: not really;

Toy Geek: didn’t really talk about it, but no I am not;

RP Geek: Newp;

War Reenactor Geek: No;

Otaku: not;

Numnumorpigotgrpger: No;

Band Geek: Check;

Ren Faire: No, but their lives are hard enough, so props;

LARPer: new to me but no, oh god no!;

Furry Geek: Nope;

Fanfic writer: No.

So I’ve made myself to be pretty geeky. Even admitting that I have been a band geek, an unconventional one, but still one. What I particularly like about this article is that it does describe a lot of how geeks can be cool. Comic book based movies turning nerdy collectors into people who just like to read a different kind of literature (don’t call them graphic novels, that’s a bullshit term used by people who read comic books but don’t want to admit that they’re comic books – it gives the impression that it is something lesser when in fact it is art. Geeky statement over.) Music connecting others gives someone’s obsession a surprisingly good conversation piece. Large movie collections bringing people together to watch something stupid. Video games getting better and being more broad in who they are marketed for (Nintendo Wii may seem gimmicky to some, but it redefined videogames into a more socially acceptable way to have fun drunk.) The recent shittiness of Star Wars and even Indiana Jones (Why Indy!? What did he do to deserve whatever the bubbledy fuck that was?!) making Star Trek seem not as outcast making as it once was while Firefly essentially saved the Sci-Fi genre from being stuffed into a locker altogether. Sports Geeks actually notifying the world that there is geekiness to be found in sports. I never once considered fat bastards chugging beer and shouting at the wall projection of the Cleveland Browns to be geeky until now.

I think there’s an important message in I-Mockery’s article: Humanity may not be able to come together based on religion, country, politics, race, things we like, things we don’t like, sexual orientation, undersating, or any of that jazz but we may be able to unite over one thing. We are all geeks, and if you don’t fall under one of these categories even slightly, something must be wrong with you. No one is that cool.

I finished the media studies class. In the class I promised to sound more insane with each post. Frankly, I’ve still been suffering from the writer’s block I’m sure I’ve written about or at least imagined writing about.

Fuck it.

I remember the story of Socrates. When he wanted to find somebody wiser than he (the grade four summary of the story, yes, shut up.) I remember him speaking with an expert or a doctor (I should have said “I vaguely remember,” but fuck you) or something of the like. The expert or scholar was so well adept at one particular field that heshethey felt that heshethey was crowned king super genius.

I am writing this at 1:30 am after a full day.

I am without the delusion of intellect. Blissfully ignorant of somethings. I cannot specify them because that would depress my ignorance. But I don’t feel as though I can read something on wikipedia, or watch it on the discovery channel, or buy it from an infomercial and become an expert on the subject. I am not charismatic because I am not full of shit.

I enjoy listening to charismatic people. They make me feel like I care or at least should care. But after while I can start to see signs. I don’t mean to sound as though I am talking specifically about the charisma of a good politician. I don’t mean to sound as though I am talking about anything. I am simply writing.

Experienced people will try to apply their experience to anything. They will try to use their swagger and their knowledge of one particular thing to convince you they know multiple things. When you are talking to a charismatic individual in close quarters conversation, listen for collections of words that sound like “you have to realize.” More often then not they feel they know more about you then you do. Do not be fooled. You are not who you think you are but you are also not who they tell you you are. You are not being cluster fucked with senseless ideas. You are being cluster fucked by my senseless ideas.

I will not give you the entire picture. You have to figure out if I am talking about anything specific. Or you don’t, but you have a choice to use your experience. Those who know me personally. Those who somehow ended up here.

p.s. this is not a suicide note

Statement set before the p.s. I started this out listening to Patti Smith cover Jimi Hendrix’s Are you Experienced, that’s my starting point. I spent the time writing this talking to a dear friend over msn. I enjoyed that. Now I am listening to Breathless by Nick Cave. I am still talking to my friend. This is not a journal entry. These are pieces to the puzzle. THis is writing with no destination. This is writing with no cause. This is meaningless but has to be written.

This is Danny Janvier. He is full of shit.

I’ve been wondering about what my muse is. From what I can tell, she’s a real bitch. She winds me up about Tom Cruise whenever he rears his stupid fucking face in the news. She teases me about what ignorant assholes scribble on bathroom stalls. You know, she could help me write a screenplay, or a moving poem, or something that can score me some kind of green in the artistic world, and instead she gets me pissed about MSN inspired acronyms and Jared Leto’s multi-sucking-ness (he’s a bad songwriter and musician – I don’t have to talk about how good he is as an actor, fuck you.) “Hey Danny, CTV News lied to you because you’re an idiot” she’d say and I’d write about how I feel they’re hurting the news industry (And I sound like I’m hearing voices, but I’m not…….. it’s just one really…………………………)

But she’s run away or hiding or something. I must be too needy of her. Wait, what the hell? Of course I’m needy of my muse, she’s my damn muse! I have to keep writing this shit so I don’t fail the damn class. Now I’m grasping at straws here. Um… Schechter makes a good point in Death of the Media when he says that the American Right’s criticizing of the ….. fuck! I’ve got nothing! The best I seem to have come up with was a post about how I have nothing, how she mistreats me and then abandons me in my time of need. I know what you might be thinking “Dude, I know like she’s hot and stuff, but, I mean, she’s kind of a bitch you know? Now let’s get drunk and get you laid. Fuck her man, fuck her.” I appreciate the sentiment bro, but it doesn’t really help me in the slightest because the happy and optimistic posts of someone else’s muse are hard as hell to write for me. As for this hour, I’m tapped out.

But Anyway, I’m digging way too into Jared Leto aren’t I? I mean, whenever someone mentions his band in any light (that includes the surprisingly positive reviews of his work, but people are allowed to like what they like) they have to mention that he’s been in this band for a while. What the fuck? Why aren’t we cynics allowed to acknowledge the fact that we don’t like his band (his guitarist Solon Bixler evidently didn’t, and is now in a good band called Great Northern, check them out, they’re incredible live) without the positive teenie-boppers attacking us with the “you’re just jealous he’s hot and famous” or “he’s been doing this long before he was a big, famous, hot actor” or “you’re ugly, you suck, and you’re not famous, stop talking to me.” I’m going to take a few minutes to quote a few lines of his:

“Lie awake in bed at night/And think about your life/Do you want to be different?”

-A Beautiful Lie. A Beautiful Lie.

“I am finished with you, you, you/Look in my eyes/You’re killing me, killing me/All I wanted was you”

-The Kill. A Beautiful Lie.

“As the day divides the night/Here we are searching for a sign”

-End of the Beginning. 30 Seconds to Mars.

The last song listed has Leto saying “And I will start my own religion.” That’s a bit of a bizarre claim at first, but there does seem to be some kind of religion forming, or at least becoming more noticeable. Bruce Willis has released two albums and a greatest hits collection although all I can remember is his cover of “Respect Yourself” taking a pretty harsh beating from music critics. Hilary Duff has released at least four records to show off a voice that just doesn’t sound right (is she bored/tone deaf/slightly flat/all of the above?) Lindsay Lohan has made music videos ranging from family fun to big-tittied Oompa-Loompa raves (what? No one else that she was really really really orange in that?) Next up is Molly Cyrus (I don’t know which came first, but both her acting career and singing career are pretty damn evil, that smile just scares the shit out of me) who’s only fifteen and somehow made several albums already although some of those were as the character Hannah Montana, which is either: a) really, really, fo-feely fake like those drug commercials that play during the news that actually look like news reports kind of fake; or b) her Ziggy Stardust so to speak.

I don’t quite get how this phenomena exists. It’s like making a movie based on the video game Halo. It looks like Halo. It sounds like Halo. Yet, it’s ultimately going to suck as bad as the Resident Evils and Super Mario Bros did.

It all seems to convenient for these actors. They’re heartthrobs on television soaps or kids movies, then they come out with albums conveniently just after some smaller band has reached some kind of popularity with a particular sound. What the fuck? Refused makes a song, Alexisonfire uses the song as inspiration, they become part of a new trend, and in comes Jared Leto to sweep up the benefits. That’s an obvious statement to make, and something that would get me in serious trouble with his fans who want nothing more than to hear another album from him. But you know what? Fuck them. I’m allowed to speak my mind on this blog. Jared Leto isn’t multi-talented, he’s multi-coded. His band follows the strict rules that have formed the kind of music they make. Their lyrics are cringe inducing and poetically flawed. There’s a line about lying awake at night because you want to change, there’s a line about being hurt by rejection, and there’s a line about the fact that day turns to night. These have been covered in songs before, and by bands that I like. But the bands that I like don’t just write something and think “that sounds deep” and then rhyme it with something else just as blatantly obvious. Lyrics aren’t just words, at least when you’re trying to be poetic and I can see that fuckhead Leto’s trying to be poetic. But poetry involves wordplay, thought, metaphor, hell, even simile and onomatopoeia and if you can’t think of a clever pun. Damn it, good poetry can even involve sounding like you’re writing about one thing and meaning something completely different (like say if I was trying to tell the world I loved 30 Seconds to Mars through this post.) So, it simply pisses me off to hear “30 Seconds to Mars is the creative front for the multi-talented Jared Leto” I just can’t help but feel like I’m being lied to. Or I’m laughed at. Or what is actually good is being decided for me. Jared Leto is multi-talented? That’s a terrible lie! (Nine Inch Nails reference provided by the Allmusicguide.com review of A Beautiful Lie)

My blog tonight was brought on by a recent experience that I discussed in class. Last week, on Tuesday I believe, a few friends and I were walking from playwriting class and in the general vicinity of the Library when we were stopped by a CTV reporter and camera man (the mistake I made was to make eye contact with a guy in a brown trench coat holding a microphone.) He explained to us the following situation: A student from THE UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO is facing expulsion for creating a Facebook study group. He is being accused of cheating. What is your opinion?

We were lined up as is the most news-camera-friendly presentation as possible when the first two people gave their opinions that: “This is ridiculous” or “No it’s not cheating.” When it came my turn, I decided to showcase my lack of respect for the mainstream news and especially on field reporting where the “public” gives their “opinion.” I bent forward as if this was the first time I’d ever spoken into the magical device that records the things that my brain makes come out of my mouth (as I’ve seen old conservatives do on CTV) and said in a deep voice “I would like to reiterate everything that she just said” Everybody laughed (mostly because I’m hilarious) and the reporter asked “Could you at least do it in your own words?” to which I replied “No, I’m not that creative.” After which I made a lengthy point about how I did not perceive the situation he explained to me as cheating. Then he asked me “so you think it’s cheating?” and I gave him an honest “what the fuck?” look. Then I proceeded to expand upon my point before he cut me off and turned the mic to the person standing to my left (who kind of came out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of me.) I’m okay with that, I mean it was rude and I was a little hurt, but it is THEIR story right? They are allowed to report it anyway they want right? RIGHT? Well CTV has their method, and frankly it’s shit. For one, they decide to bring the full Canadian opinion to discuss how students are reacting across the country. That is all well and good, but what difference does it make when you go to the University of Guelph to hear numerous students say “What? That’s ridiculous!” when it can be easily contained to the troubles the 146 students involved in the study group are or were facing as well as the reasons the school’s administration is using to make make decisions about this. It’s a contained story, honestly, who gives a fuck what Johnny Emo-haircut has to say about Facebook groups that hasn’t been said already? There’s a middle man, and then there’s a guy holding up the line. Johnny’s holding up the fucking line. He’s filler being used when I could actually have a real story here, not partisan hackery employed by news teams picking several random citizens and only showing the most polar of opinions or even just several students who agree on one view point and repeat it ad nauseum word for word. Where’s the story in that? Where’s the news? It’s fairly obvious that if you’re an average (note average, not you specifically) first or second year student (who isn’t the kind of pompous ass who’s propelled from your high horse by the rod up your ass saying “Facebook is social trash”) that you’re going to think that the fact that this student is facing expulsion over a study group on Facebook is more or less insane. It’s unnecessary and just gets in the way of what’s important, the fucking news!

More importantly, what I wasn’t aware of while giving my opinion was that I wasn’t given the full facts or even the correct facts. I felt as though I was being lied to, as if something wasn’t right in the world, and my spidey sense was tingling so to speak. I wondered how I would be taken out of context if I was actually used in the broadcast. So, myself and several others went and found out what we could. Through word of mouth alone we discovered that the university he told us about was in fact wrong. The student goes to RYERSON, a university in Toronto yes, but a completely different fucking university. What we also learned, through word of word of mouth mind you, is that the student had answers posted on the Facebook group (someone told me they were for an exam, but I have not found any journalistic proof of this specifically.) So I did my research and found an article from before we were pulled over (on CTV’s actual website and dated March 11th 2008) that revealed to me one of two possibilities: 1) This one reporter doesn’t know his shit (he did seem pretty old); or 2) He wasn’t giving me enough information to make an informed opinion so instead I just made an opinion (and those are like assholes, everybody has them.) Either way, I’m quite pissed off about the situation as you might be able to tell. My main reason for avoiding most news sources is that I don’t like to feel like I’m being lied to (unless it’s FOX, which is so blatant about it that it’s like watching a sit com.) Up until recently I just assumed CTV news was simply a boring and mostly useless lead in for Corner Gas (so far one of the few reasons I can think of to watch CTV after they stopped showing Scrubs) but now I include it in the list of people/things that have hurt me. It doesn’t bother me whether or not I appeared on their program (because as far as I know I didn’t) so much as it bothers me that they gave me very little information, wait, very little CORRECT information to record my nameless Canadian student opinion. As far as I know, I wasn’t even recorded for CTV, I was instead recorded by some asshole with a fake CTV cap on his mic making a statement about uninformed, apathetic youth by pretending to be a newsman reporting on something that’s been in the news all month. But if I could simply compare two articles. The Toronto Star’s article (I don’t hold the Toronto Star particularly close to my heart, but here they’re better than CTV) In this article, they interview Chris Avenir, the student facing expulsion at the time, Kim Neale, the student union’s advocacy co-ordinator, they reference the academic misconduct policy of Ryerson University, Avenir’s original mark in the class, how the professor found the group and changed it, Avenir’s midterms are being affected by the stress of the situation, and how each student recieved slightly different questions to prevent cheating. The interviews give opinions that are not only directly involved in the situation, but are also incredibly relevant to the situation. The interviews mentions the comparison the study group to methods of tutoring and how other students are now afraid to ask for help on Facebook because there could be a prof watching intently. The CTV.ca article was actually created almost a week after the Star’s one. So it would be natural to assume that the time in between the two meant that one of Canada’s major television stations could at least have been given to going deeper into the story, or at least getting interviews with somebody important. What is made mention of is Avenir’s comparison to tutoring (okay, carry-over is bound to happen when multiple news sources tackle a single story) as well as Neale’s discussion of students fearing use of Facebook (again, carry-over is a given.) They even have Student Union president Nora Loreto stating the obvious (that they’re behind him one hundred percent, I guess they needed a second opinion then Neale’s incredibly informed and relevant one the Star gave more notice to) but she’s still a key figure I’d imagine. Okay CTV, we’re doing okay so far. Wait, what’s that? NOOO!!!! They had to ask “a student” and “one woman” what they thought! Why CTV? Why do you always need to report opinion along with news? You were doing well, albeit not as well as theStar.com, but you were still reporting something that was kind of relevant if not totally vague.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? That the news is too vague. It’s not hard to understand that with all the stories there are to report that it would be hard to nail all stories, but come on! The Star had a pretty respectable story. They had opinions that reflect the situation and quotes that mattered. You could tell from what Neale said that Ryerson’s student union was backing Avenir. CTV doesn’t have to treat us like idiots by adding in the little quote that really doesn’t help the story at all. And they don’t need to add in the statements by those unaffected. Public opinion matters in stories relating to an election or government official who’s screwing us over for some scandal or bridge to an island or not letting certain people marry for reasons that have no logical backing (see, that’s vague writing, see how useless that is? See how it just distracts as opposed to inform? Isn’t it great that I didn’t have to waste your time with that?) Even then it just comes back to partisan hackery on the network’s part. “Here’s what the far left has to say, here’s what the far right has to say, here’s what some indecisive guy has to say, and here’s eight more people saying the same shit, see you tomorrow.” Opinion isn’t what the news is for, it’s what editorials are for. And the people who actually take the time to form an opinion write into the papers or email the station to try and get some point across make up those editorials. They’re often ignored by the average reader because they can sound like incoherent assholes who represent a kind of outrage that only people exactly like them can agree with (a little self reflexive maybe, but it’s still a point, what I write isn’t news, it’s opinion or analysis or satire.) It’s actually a stupid idea to pull somebody over and ask them what they think about for a specific topic because they, at that very moment, probably don’t have that on their mind and rely on the reporters to inform them so they can think about the topic and then make an opinion. I say it’s stupid because it’s how CTV bases what it believes Canadians are thinking because some random was pulled over while buying groceries and asked to speak about their feelings G8 summit when what’s really on their mind is what they’re going to make for dinner. I feel like I’m getting outraged over something very trivial, but I can’t shake the feeling that the news, as dry and bland as it can be, is meant to tell the news (apparently not always the truth, but who doesn’t know about media biases already?) and that opinions, whether owned by the citizens or by the company that owns the news station, get in the way of the facts. Look back at TheStar.com’s article, notice how many people were interviewed. Two people were, they were directly influenced, and gave important headway to the story. Look at the CTV.ca (oh, silly website, why do you remain a dot ca?) five different people were referenced or interviewed, one of them was a random student with no contextual need to be mentioned, another was a random woman whose opinion matters more to her circle of loved ones than it does to the story at hand, the president of the student union whose quotes inspire confidence yet are completely unnecessary, a paraphrase of what Neale said (which was important to the effects of the situation), a paraphrase of a good point Avenir made, and a direct quote that he’s confident, which is nice to know but it is also utterly useless. Frankly, I just want CTV to get its shit together; to report on the facts and interview people who are integral to the situation. Save the random citizen opinions for morning call in shows like Breakfast Television or Canada AM or whatever hunk of crap they use to fill the mornings with cheery-eyed psychos (It’s Monday morning, how are you so fucking chipper?)

I am the result of a continuously quickening pace. Everything has to be processed in such a ridiculous speed that my own attention span cannot focus for more than a few minutes. The MTV generation, a name I’ve heard constantly from the Simpsons and stuffy old conservatives, has no time for any important news outside of infotainment like Kirsten Dunst checking into rehab a little while ago (and even that’s old news). But before I get into a cynical rant about how soulless my generation can be (or start acting like I’m the first person to think of such a thing, because I’m so smart) I want to focus on something particular. The compact disk is a major contributor to this lack of attention I and others like me suffer from (note that I didn’t say “we as a society”) due to the complete control over it.

The vinyl record is awesome. Some of the best music is recorded on it and it possesses an almost honest quality to music, but the music recorded on it gives me little control. Selecting a particular track to listen to takes to much time and precision that it makes the most sense to listen to an album in its entirety. It asks for patience from the listener. It demands effort from the listener to grow attached to each track as bizarre and eclectic any one could be. Its fragility also asks for self control from the listener as each listen slowly wears the record down as well as the player’s needle. The vinyl is in control of the listener.

The C.D. is the slave of the consumer. It comes in a little package made of plastic which can be substituted easily with a C.D. wallet which can hold multiple C.D.s for easy storage and mobility (now I can bring anything from 10-120 maybe more C.D.s anywhere I feel – thousands in my iPod, but that’s a different post that somebody else will probably write).

The ability to change tracks with the simple push of a button is what makes the C.D. such a pivotal piece of technology. The sound, the durability, the appearance are all nice to think about but what really stands out is the convenience of the simple button. That little button is what takes the art out of the control of the musicians and places it into my index finger.

Take the album the Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd. The sounds of the album carry from track to track as the lyrics carry the overbearing tone through out the album. When listening to this on vinyl, it’s an auditory experience. It pleases and challenges the listener. It asks for the effort of the listener and rewards it with a story that expands through the record.

I bought the Dark Side of the Moon on C.D. and skipped right “Eclipse.” I was initially turned off by the clanging sounds and hysterical laughter of “Speak to Me” and felt buggered if I was going to hear “Money” again (a good song, but my brother had the greatest hits and played that song a lot (I’d still rather hear it then any of that inane shit Ill Scarlett keeps churning out)). My sense of serenity could not be bothered at first to hear the dramatic build up of “The Great Gig in the Sky.” All I could want to hear at first was some kind of familiarity, and I was not going to wait through any mind bending crescendos or deeply philosophical musings or kick ass bass rhythms in an unusual time signature. I just wanted to rock out to “Eclipse.”

That is one of the biggest achievements of the C.D. The ability to rock out whenever I feel like it means that my mood controls the music I hear. I do not listen to Radiohead song “Go Slowly” when I’m in an upbeat mood because that would upset me, I would instead skip to the end track “4 Minute Warning ” or skip back from that to “Bangers & Mash” to hear a song that better fits my rock out mood. When I feel like throwing my hands up in the air or thrashing my head around I will play a specific track from a specific album and try to follow that high with another rock out track from that album.

In this way the C.D. has turned the art of music into the soundtrack for my life. The music I play in my car when I’m driving is solely driving music. It’s something pumping that makes the unbelievably mundane chores of driving to class or the bank somewhat cool because I have a beat accompanying it.

But my complete control over this has cost me my attention span. Whenever I don’t like a solo or a singer I have the easy push of a button to change the track and rock out to another two and a half minute rock and roll song. I do this frequently because when I have this power of choice, why should I let it go it waste? Why should I have to listen to Nico’s strangely masculine voice over unsuitable soft guitars on “Femme Fatale” when I can hear her boom over the powerful piano anthem “All Tomorrow’s Parties” where her voice has an easier sound to it?

This control has helped to destroy the patience of my generation. I am a product of the “Why should I do it if I don’t want to” mindset which has been given power through media like MTV, the television remote, the automobile, and what I’ve been on about, the C.D. The power is mine, the art is mine, and all because the C.D. is mine.

My main problem with censorship is when the oft practiced prolonged bleep that happens to take place before a person can make his or her *bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep* and the point gets *bleeeeeeeeep* making absolutely no *bleeeeeeeeeeeepppp* cherry pie up his *exploitive deleted*.

*Prolonged Silence while various people’s lips are moving*

*exploitive deleted* it.

I give up.

I’ve seem to have hit some blogging brain freeze. Thanks to it all I can think about is why you have to keep doing this for me. It was an achievement for both you as an actor to make a movie in which you’re in that I don’t instantly dislike. I was even charmed by you in that picture. Your Vincent was simple. You didn’t shout every few sections. You weren’t running all the damn time (you did run, but even that looked intriguing in its own way.) You weren’t prettied up for the camera either. You had gray hair, were unshaven, and were interestingly ugly. I was interested in your work after that film. I finally saw you as a good actor (note I have not seen A Few Good Men, and have mostly been exposed to your work in the most current sense of mainstream.) You had to put an end to that. I understand Tom, I can be a rather crass individual at times, but I don’t think I deserve this. I think it’s rather cruel of you. I mean, we were just starting to get along, me and you. Then I heard on a VH1 episode of The Fabulous Life Of… that you bought a portion of the moon.

Tom, oh Tom. Tom, Tom, Tommy boy, the moon is for everyone Tom. I don’t want to believe what that seemingly British voice-over told me. I get that you’re rich. And I get that with those riches you’ll soon be able to reach that level of Scientology where you breathe fire upon your enemies like Anonymous or those reporters and biographers who have called you gay in the nineties. But don’t take the moon from me, I like the moon.

When you were on Oprah Tom, I didn’t see the crazy man in his early forties jumping the couch. I saw an innocent school boy “in love” with that Batman Begins lady. When South Park made fun of you and made those insinuations of homosexuality, I was laughing with you, not at you. I was laughing at R. Kelly though because that “Trapped In The Closet” shtick was damn funny. And I didn’t belittle you on your beliefs on Scientology until after doing enough reach on it (the holy doctrine being a science fiction novel certainly helped push me over the cliff, as did the outright denial of the existence of chemical imbalances in the brain and what you said about Brooke Shields. Tom, she’s Suddenly Susan.)

But now you had to question my ability to open a car door? I saw your video Tom. That hurt. A lot. I’m quite an intelligent person, I feel, and for you to say only a Scientologist knows what to do in the event of a car accident… well, I feel really torn. I may have been raised Roman Catholic before opting for a life of secularism, but I did go to driving school. I even went to regular school. I was educated. I know what a car looks like and it shouldn’t look like. I’ve been inside a car. I think I could be able to help somebody Tom. I may not be Spider-man, but hell neither are you (Tobey Maguire is though.)

I don’t think you’re stupid because of your religion Tom. I once belonged to an institution that believed a virgin gave birth, he died, came back to life, flew up to heaven, and will come back soon (sometime in the sixties, seventies, eighties, nineties? No, soon? Somebody call Pat Robertson. In fact, don’t call Pat Robertson, he’s worse then Tom Cruise.) I think you’re stupid in spite of your religion. Replacing a publicist who served you well for over a decade with your sister who brought your Q rating down to 40%: That was stupid. Declaring psychiatry as a science based on Nazism in Entertainment Weekly because of a known urban myth you heard about methadone: That was stupid.

I don’t blame you for finding a copy of Dianetics in your local mega-cafe-book-store under Non-Fiction, I blame the incompetent mega-cafe-book-store employee who found it on the floor near the Non-Fiction section and put it on the shelf so he could go home before missing the eyeball scene of Lost. But if Xenu’s forces attack our ill fated planet, I will not flock behind you for safety. The tripods won’t have scripts telling them not to kill Tom Cruise.

Tom, I only write cause I’m worried about you. Collateral showed you had promise. It showed you something more than just a bugeyed teenager dancing in his undies having a pseudo-sexual relationship with whatever Val Kilmer’s character’s name was. It made me believe in Tom Cruise. BUT THEN YOU HAD TO JUMP THE COUCH

Love,
Danny.

I wish to analyze my own profile. I can’t set up a link for all to see because you would need a Facebook account for it (sorry Ian, but remember, the imagination is a very powerful tool. EXCELSIOR!) My profile photo is professionally done. I received numerous nice comments regarding the picture so I chose that one (the words “aw” and “cute” came up a lot.) Next it says the name I prefer to go by “Danny Janvier” (not Dan, or Daniel, or Danoptimus Prime) because that’s what I want people to call me. My status says “Danny Janvier is seriously excited for the Gutter Twins concert/new album next month” and listed up my status are my university, original hometown, birthday and year of birth, and my religious views (simply the words “Fuck it.”) Other things listed on my page are my horoscope (spiritual? Hopeful romantic? Who Knows?) my received free gifts (he’s loved or at least a giver) my PersonalDNA application (it was a test that defines me as a “Compassionate Creator”) my Jetman application (it shows my top score, how many times I’ve won in area mode, and that I like to play as Santa Claus when I play it – it shows Danny Janvier as a childish nerd?) the calculated sexiness of my full name (Daniel Lawrence Janvier scored me 562 – and it tells me my name is too sexy.) Also listed are a selection of my favourite movies and TV shows (I don’t want to look like a spend all my time watching television) and my favourite bands displayed under both my interests section and my iLike application (which also has a YouTube link to a music video for “In The Ghetto” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.) I display in my notes in my side bar. My notes doesn’t serve me any purpose like this blog. I don’t analyze the world in an academic sense. Instead my notes contain: A) a sarcastic rant called “Do Not Post a Memory” I wrote in response to the irritation I experienced after the twenty-third Facebook friend (the distinction is necessary because many of my Facebook friends are simply people I know who I occasionally say hi to or had a class with) wrote a “new note” asking all of their Facebook friends to post a damn memory they had to cheer them up in times of sadness; B) Lyrics for the song “The Heist” by the Lonely Island, I found the song hilarious and felt I needed to share it with all my Facebook friends; C) Lyrics I have written, I’m an aspiring musician – the use of having my lyrics up on Facebook shows both my aspirations as well as I do have a tender emotional side underneath this manly exterior (plus my Facebook friends and my actual friends post some real ego-feeding comments – apparently I have a sexy way with words.)

One final application I have listed is the collection of photographs I have of myself. Now, anybody who looks critically at Facebook has to make mention of the photographs because they are the best visual codes for how we want to look. I have one photo album in my profile from an evening when I played at the bullring. There is one photograph I didn’t include in the album because in it I was drunk off my ass, making a stupid face, and looking the worst I could possibly look. Now if I can barely stand looking at myself in that photograph why would anybody else? I’m creating a false confidence in myself by posting only the pictures where I look good (by my standards) and am with my beautiful friends and posting deep, personal poetry I’m turning myself into a non-rock-star. I become an imitation of what I want to be. I am a total fake in this sense, but who isn’t? After all, that is what we do when we go out on the town or to parties. We dress nicely and do our hair in hopes of hooking up. We try to be fun and entertaining so we don’t come off as losers. If we’re awkward, we’ll get drunk enough until we’re ready to bust out those dance moves that show how drunk we actually are. I invite any commentary on my little post about myself and Facebook. Am I, or are we, living a dream or just trying to get laid?