I can think of soooo many better uses for the word Poo-x. Like, Poo-X, a robot that goes and exterminates poo from sidewalks. Or a type of Immodium. Or a species of aliens from another galaxy. Maybe a supervillain. Or a band. Heck, even a new kind of car- the Subaru Poo-X. But poodles? Such a waste.

Ears=Ringing
Voice hoarse from singing
New lyrics clinging to the music in my head

First I was preaching
Then Guitars were screeching
Making for a beeching night of undead

OK, lameypoo rhyme, but it actually fits. I thought I knew heavy, but tonight at the Gathering Seven Devil FIx played a new song, called Transylv umm Transubsta Umm Transylstans umm it was about vampires anyways. And Communion. Oh yeah it was called The Burden (since not even Mike could remember how to say the original title). Really cool idea- what if a vampire could be freed from its curse by the blood of Christ? And wow was it ever heavy.
I get to speak again next week, too. That'll be good. Come on out if you want. Even if you live in, oh I dunno, Ohio, or Ottawa, or Ostralia.

Disclaimer- if you don't apprecaite Chinese history and culture, just skip these poosts and go read about lavacid and movies and such.
I'm reading Sons of the Yellow Empooror, by Lynn Pan right now. It's a history of the Chinese diaspora. I have in my library a somewhat extensive collection of books on Chinese culture, history, literature and autobiography. Here then is my list of books the student of China should read with no delay. It is by no means exhaustive since it is confined to books I actually have, and have read. If you have any suggestions, let me know.

1. Wild Swans, by Jung Chang. An autobiography of the lives of the author, her mother and grandmother. Three generations of Chinese women, spanning the greater part of the 20th century. Astounding.
2. Red China Blues, and Jan Wong's China, both by Jan Wong. Jan Wong is a writer for Canada's daily newspaper, the Globe and Mail. She was one of the few Westerners permitted to study in China during the Cultural Revolution. She tells of her life as a "stark-raving Maoist" to her time as a foreign correspondent during the Tiananmen incident. Jan Wong's China is a look at today's China. Both are filled with excellent, insightful writing, and fair doses of humour, as well as glimpses into the darker side of life.
3. Chinese Shadows, by Simon Leys. I found this book for two bucks in a used bookstore, and it turned out to be one of the best books on Maoist China. Written in 1974 by a renowned Sinologist he very adeptly exposes the fallacies and absurdities of a regime that, at the time of its writing, was considered admirable and worthy of emulation by the European leftist academia. The phrase, "Apparently-leftist-deviation-which-is-in-fact-rightist-sabotage" is a perfect example of Leys' ability to pinpoint the bizarre mindset Mao fostered in his people.
4. In Exile from the Land of Snows, by John F. Avedon. This book is actually about Tibet, and the Chinese conquest of it. Required reading for anyone interested in the Tibetan cause.
5. Red Flower of China, by Zhai Zhenhua. She grew up during the '60's and '70's, became a Red Guard, and thus has a first-hand account of the human tragedy that was the Great Proletariat Cultural Revolution.
6. Thunder from the East, by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. Not strictly about China, but rather a look at present-day Asia, its rise and the fallout from the economic meltdown of 1997.

Strangely, there are virtually no autobiographies by Communist Chinese men, at least that I am aware of. I wonder why that is. And yes, there are books I have that didn't make this list. Not because they were pooey, but the list above is for outstanding books.
The Rambling Rustic recommended this book, Surviving on the Gold Mountain, by Ling Huping which actually sounds like it ties in poofectly with the book 'm reading now, so thank you for that.

My friend Lydia is sending me an anthology of world poetry, which is very kind of her. We are friends because of the great Chinese poet Du Fu. Here is some work from another Chinese poet, from the 8th century, named Li Poo. Oops, Li Po. Sorry.

DRINKING ALONE BY MOONLIGHT

A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
I drink alone, for no friend is near.
Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,
For he, with my shadow, will make three men.
The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;
Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.
Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave
I must make merry before the Spring is spent.
To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;
In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.
While we were sober, three shared the fun;
Now we are drunk, each goes his way.
May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,
And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.(i)

(i) The Milky Way.

Here is an alternate translation, I'm torn which one I like better, but I think the first one, has a more poetic feel:

Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way

In a stunning display of poost-synthesizing, I am going to talk about Star Wars, Dan, lavacid, and ice all at once.
Dan and I shared a mutual obsession for all things Star Wars, being children of the '70's as we were. We both had massive armies of Star Wars figures (now sadly decimated- if anyone has old Star Wars figures they want to give me . . .) that we would combine and fight epic battles, using wooden building blocks, elastic bands and even rolled-up socks. The figures would be in forts made of the blocks, and we would take turns shooting the elastic bands at each other's armies. The socks were meteorites, and our bases unfortunately got hit by a statistically-unlikely number of them. The cool thing about Dan's place is he had a ledge in his room, spanning the stairwell going up into it, and we would set up bridges for the figures to walk across. Of course, crossing this bridge made them sitting ducks for the elastic lasers, and many, many stormtroopers and Gammorean guards perished in the pit of lavacid below attempting to get across.
Such exploits occupied many an afternoon. After Empire came out, we thought it would be cool to add some carbon-freezing chambers to our bases. So we took the figures and put them in their little plastic bubble that they came in, added water, and stuck them in the freezer for a couple of hours. They came out in a state of perfect hibernation. After a while their joints started to get a little loose so we got to be more discerning as to who we turned into icicles. C3PO got frozen an inordinate number of times, especially since, as a droid, all one would have to do is deactivate him. Ah well, it was fun.
Did I ever mention I wish I was still a kid?

I figured I better write it down now so you can all see how smrt I am in two years time when Star Wars Epoosode III comes out. I know what it will be called: Revenge of the Sith. See, there are parallels between the trilogies. Epoosode IV was A New Hope, while Epoosode I was The Phantom Menace. Both hint at things on the horizon, not yet fully realized. The Empire Strikes Back and Attack of the Clones have obvious similarities, and so Epoosode III will be called Revenge of the Sith, to parallel Return of the Jedi, which you younger readers might not know was originally supposed to be called Revenge of the Jedi until Lucas remembered that a Jedi craves not these things. I know many of you were disappointed with the new movies, but have faith. As my friend Ronda put it, Less Nookie, More Wookie. I like Wookies.
Got a better name? Up for a friendly little wager?

The most dangerous substance in the universe: lavacid. A combination of lava and acid that I frequently encountered as a child, and was thus forced to improvise ways of avoiding it. It usually occurred in the vicintity of jungle gyms, disguised as harmless piles of sand, and I often found that jumping from one platform to another, or swinging from one chain to the next were effective methods of preventing a horrible melting death. These endeavours were complicated by my friend Dan, who would often chase me in the hopes of causing me to fall into a pit of lavacid. Of course, I would try to do the same to him. Even the slightest touch would cause instantaneous fleshal evaporation. Those were the good old days, so devoid of worries. Other than the worry of falling into a pit of lavacid and dying. Now, all I have to be careful of is piles of dog poo, which are not as deadly, but can be just as potent.

By the way, if anyone knows the whereabouts of my friend Dan, I sure would like to hear about it. I lost track of him a long time ago. He was my next-door neighbour when I was 5, and one of my best friends for many many years, but the last time I saw him was in 1995. Maybe one day old friends of mine will type "Where is Nathan Waddell" into Google and the results will come back: Pooing in the Woods.

It seems like there hasn't been a lot of good movies coming out lately. Tomorrow there's The Core, which you might think would appeal to my geologic sensibilities, but it just looks so Poo-Awful. Even with Hillary Swank. However, I notice that Spirited Away is being rereleased thanks to its recent Oscar win for best animated movie. Alex and I were going to go see it the first time around but it was here for like two nights and then gone, so we missed it. Hayao Miyazaki's work is always amazing. Princess Mononoke, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, both great movies. Both essentially the same movie, as far as themes and general storyline goes, but great nonetheless. Mononoke is set in a mythic past, and there are gods and demons in it, while Nausicaa is set in an apocalyptic future, and there are giant bug monsters in it, but both have strong female characters, ecological themes and ambiguous distinctions between good guys and bad guys. You should watch them. Nausicaa.net is a good place to go for Studio Ghibli news, if you're interested.
I also watched Grave of the Fireflies a couple of weeks ago too. It's about the aftermath of World War II in Japan. Quite powerful.

It took me a while to track them down, but I found some pictures from the caving trip I was talking about a few days ago, and I scanned them and poosted them here for you to enjoy. These are old pictures, from 1994 actually (time flies), and sadly I am no longer in touch with any of my companions from this trip, except one. It was a good time though.

There is still more snow than naked ground, and it will be a while before we see any green here in Edmonton, but Spring has arrived. You have to be careful at night, though, as the melt water refreezes and makes roads and sidewalks slippery. The resulting ice actually makes some interesting structures- glaciers and lava floes in miniature. Did you know that the bottom layers of glacial ice can be under so much pressure that its crystalline structure actually changes? In other words, it becomes Metamorphic rock. Whenever I'm at the Colombia Icefields or glaciers in Alaska I like to drink the clear, pure melt water. Then I can truthfully say that I've drank lava.
These glaciers are remnants from the last Ice Age, which in Geologic terms just ended. We are in early spring, you might say, and the glaciers and ice caps are receding. The Icefields I mentioned are noticeably smaller than they were when I was a kid, and my Dad says there's a huge difference from when he was young. Sadly.
And since geology and palontology are closely related, here is your paleontological word for the day- coprolite. That means fossilized poo.

It was Sherry's birthday today so a bunch of us went curling to celebrate. Curling is a good game. It originated with the ancient Celts, as I believe, and instead of rocks they used frozen bear poos or something like that. Anyways, now it is the domain of Canadians and Scots mostly. I don't rememeber the exact score, but it was something like a million to none for our team. Later we all went to Sherry's for cake and we got her this game called Settlers of Catan or Satan or whatever- it was okay too, and me and my partner won, because we had the most Poo Points at the end. I always win whatever game I play for some reason.

I finally finished reading Snow Crash. Good book. Only Neal Stephenson could write a book about Sumerian mythology (especially the Tower of Babel), viruses, glossolalia, binary code and people it with skaters, pizza delivery guys, hackers, Aleuts and the Mafia. If you want to know how all these disparate things could possibly relate to each other, read the book. I'm not sure I could explain it properly, but it made sense and was pretty cool. I think I liked the Diamond Age better, but Snow Crash still gets One Poo out of Five. Now I will have to get my hands on a copy of Cryptonomicon.

Legolas died on Saturday. Poor little mousey. I felt pretty bad about it, I got pretty attached to the little guy. I put him in a little box, all wrapped in tissue, and buried him in the yard.

Homie Bear is a gemius, as you have always known. I came in second in our Oscars pool, Gotthammer Mike was first. I pretty much missed the whole thing, which is fine by me cause I don't really care. I'm glad Eminem won for Lose Yourself, though. That's cool. I got the 8Mile DVD a couple days ago and watched it today (again- there are some great battles in the special features that weren't used in the film). Click here to read my review of 8Mile over at the G's website. Umm, that's about all I have to say about the Oscars. When Jonny Smelter wins one, or I do, then I'll have more to say on that subject.
The Gathering was smoking, as always- in fact it was literally smoking for a while as some of the votive candles went a little crazy. Jeff P was back with the Devil Fixers and they played one of their best sets in a while, which is saying a lot. More of a somber, toned down set tonight, because of Lent, which was fine by me, since two sad things happened to me this weekend- one of which I will tell you about later. The other one is just for me. Anyways, they had some upbeat songs near the end too- Tent Meeting, which, as always, good a bood a poo. Go download their song Seed, which they played tonight and is at their website (which can be found to the left or you could just click here). It's killer, and speaks to the current situation in the world. Ummm, I've had a few bottles of Kokanee Labatt's Blue tonight, so my poo skills aren't as there as normal, so have a fine night!
And the Oscar for best salkdjlasj a rasj a poo goes to . . . Homie Bear!

Speaking of caves, there's a decent one not far from where I grew up. The Cadomin Caves, and I have had a number of adventures in there over the years. Cadomin is a small town near Hinton (where I was born) and it's right in the mountains. The entrance to the cave is at the top of a small but steep mountain just outside of town. The first time I ever went in was with my family- we used to camp in that area all the time and ride our dirtbikes and quads- and it's an ideal family outing provided your family is sufficeintly fit and equipped. The top part of the cave system is extensive but wide open and safe, so as long as you have plenty of light, you can't really go wrong. In fact, I slept in the cave once, with the U of A Outdoors Club. It was -30 outside, but the caves stay a steady 10 degrees all year round, so it was nice and comfy inside. Except that the cave floor is a heat sink, and I was very chilly all night. Since that time the caves have been closed in the winter to prevent people from disturbing the bats that live there.
Another time I went in with some friends and we did some actual spelunking, carrying some wire ladders with us to descend into the nether regions of the cave. We went deep, and there were many times when we had to wiggle our way through the tiny apertures like worms. Not fun if you are claustrophobic. We actually had a pretty good time though, we even conducted our own church service in their complete with Communion. But we were in for a long time- 14 hours or something, and coming out I got into a bit of trouble about halfway up the ladders when I almost died. But I didn't, and it was all good.
So if you ever want to go explore the caves, give me a shout, maybe I'll take you. But be warned- it's a no-impact wilderness area, so you gotta cart out your poo.

Is it a poofect night? Yes it is! Seven Devil Fix played a solid show over at the Ark, they even played my theme song (Hey hey hey Homie Bear)! Which I'm sure made NO sense to any of the people there, but that's alright. I am the center of the universe, after all. Oh yeah and then the Oilers won, pretty much sewing up a playoff spot, so it'll be a great April.

Here is an Informative and Thought-Provoking Article on the nature of poo. Thanks to Lydia and Blaine for pointing it out.
And on a completely different note, check out these pictures of selenite crystals recently discovered in a silver and zinc mine in Mexico. Although my geology days are long since behind me, things like this are pretty cool. In fact, here is one of the most fascinating geologically-related links I know of, from the Lechuguilla cave system in New Mexico. It is a unique cave system in that it is derived from sulfuric acid rather than water, thus producing its striking geological features. Don't say Homie Bear never taught you anything.
And, for no other reason than that it is really bizarre, here is Kikkoman. A Flash animation, brought to you by Japan, Purveyors of Fine Oddities.

Legolas the mouse has been trying to jump out of his terrarium for a while- it's kind of cute to watch him make these mighty but futile leaps. But the other day I went into the living room and saw him crawling up on the lip of the terrarium, clinging to it precariously. I guess he finally figured out that if he jumps from the top of his little plasctic house he could actually reach the edge. But he hadn't planned what to do once he got up there, and he looked a little scared, so I rescued him, and then today he did it again, so I decided I better put the lid back on, just in case he falls. Poor little guy. Actually the other day the inevitable finally happened- he pooed on me. I had some unrealistic dreams that I could permanently avoid this fate, but alas, one can not stop the tides of nature. Or the poos of mice, I guess, as the case may be.

I went to a western-themed party tonight at my friend Shelley's, it was fun. She's been promising this for months, and I was hoping she would have it earlier when my friend Cory still lived here cause he's got all the coolest authentic cowboy stuff (Cory if you're reading you should have seen the chaps(?) Shelley and her sister made- beautiful). As it was I just wore my trusty pooncho, which you might rememeber got me onto the Jumbotron at an Eskimos game a few months ago- no such luck tonight, though I'm sure if Shelley had a jumbotron, I would have made it on. And we played pooker all night except it was for fake money. Which usually defeats the purpose but I didn't mind since I didn't really know too many people and this was a good way to meet them. No sense taking all their money and having them be mad at me.
The party fun time continues tomorrow night as Seven Devil Fix plays another show, this time at the Arc, check their website for details and come on out, it'll be great. Can't make it then? Come out to the Gathering on Sunday night they'll be there too.

As I was walking to the university today I saw a woman with a bag of poo. Really- I'm not kidding! She was walking her dog and I guess it must have pooed and she cleaned it up. Most people don't do that so that is impressive, and integral with all the melt water everywhere- things get awful mushy awful quick in spring runoff season, and this year is one of the worst I can remember-we had so much snow and then it just got warm all of a sudden one day. Makes it hard to walk on the sidewalks actually, since they are more akin to lakes than sidewalks right now. Unless you're wearing big fat rubber boots. Which I'm not.

Although maybe I'm too old to be excited about this, but cereal box prizes have gotten waaay better then they were when I was a kid. It used to be "Free Inside (Gratuit a l'interieur)- Little Plastic Ball! Collect all six colors!!" But now they have Disney bobble heads, Star Wars Rubick's cube heads, and even Team Canada Olympic Hockey Gold Medal DVD's. Anyone want to trade for some Donald Duck bobble heads? I'm looking for a Jango Fett/ Clone Trooper rubick's head. Of course, when I make my own cereal, Homie O's, we'll go back to the old school way of doing things- "Free inside- Little Plastic Poo! Comes in brown!"

Maybe Homie Bear should start his own soap opera- it seems like an obvious fit after the well-established connection between soaps and poo. Here is how the Pilot Epoosode would go:

Homie Bear is walking in the woods one day minding his own business. No wait he's actually a doctor in a hospital, saving lives. But then he gets sued by the very patient he was saving, because this patient is actually a criminal mastermind who was trying to fake his own death when Dr. Bear foiled his plans. So now Homie is representing himself in court when the judge reveals himself to be a Hollywood talent scout on the side, so he throws out the case against Homie and becomes his agent, so they move to Hollywood and begin to make movies, but the director of the movie is actually an uindercover cop investigating Homie's alleged involvement in an organized crime syndicate. Homie refuses to squeal on his family and goes to jail where he studies hard to become a SCUBA diver so when he gets out he dives in some ocean somewhere and discovers Atlantis! But his diving partner is more than just the National Geographic writer he made himself out to be and is actually an international jewel thief and knocks Homie unconscious and steals Atlantis. So when Homie comes to he goes to Burma where he studies in a secretive and elite kung fu monastery and swears vengeance against the jewel thief. But the jewel thief's beatiful international supermodel wife steals Atlantis and divorces the thief, and marries Homie Bear and they live happily ever after as the rulers of Atlantis.
Well, until tomorrow's epoosode.

Jonny Smelter's Network Television Debut!
Soap operas are like poo in many ways- they happen every day, they stink, they vary in consistency, but today I watched One Life to Live with pride as one of my best friends ever made a cameo appearance as a bass player. I know, he was supposed to last week, but I watched it and didn't see him at all (though apparently his guitar made it on) so today I cheered when I saw him. I was all alone at my next-door neighbour's house at the time, so the cheer went largely unnoticed, but it's the thought that counts right? Anyways, Jon was only on for less than a minute but it was so cool to see him. He says there will be more appearances to come. Here is today's daily recap from the One Life to Live website:

Bo questions Troy about Sam's murder and realizes the threatening call Todd supposedly left on Sam's answering machine was placed after the time of the murder. Blair confronts Mitch, who warns her to keep silent. Blair is called in for questioning by Bo. Blair maintains that Todd is innocent and eventually accuses Mitch of murder when she tells Bo about Mitch's threatening phone call. After questioning Mitch, Bo decides to speak with Lindsay. Blair tells Troy she is going to go after Mitch herself. After getting a visit from Mitch, Lindsay tells Jen that Todd killed Sam. Jen goes to Bo demanding that Todd be arrested. Lindsay has a nightmare in which Sam puts her on trial for killing him. Lindsay later overreacts when she encounters Nora at The Palace. Joey convinces RJ to listen to Flash and her band for a possible gig at Capricorn. Flash's audition in interrupted by Antonio, who confronts RJ for not informing him about the memorial service for Keri. Jessica later urges Antonio to hold his own memorial for Keri and the baby. RJ goes to Toronto and visits a very-much-alive Keri and baby Stephanie. RJ convinces Keri they are doing the right thing by making Antonio believe she and the baby were killed in the plane crash. Upset after the failed audition, Flash is vulnerable to the advances of a man she meets on the street. Joey arrives at Jen's room at The Palace to comfort her over Sam's death.

Here is what it SHOULD say:
Bo and Troy and Sam and Todd and Blair and Mitch and Lindsey and Jen and Nora and RJ and Antonio and Flash and Keri and Stephanie are all idiots who suck, but then their lives are changed forever when they see the mighty Jonny Smelter pick up his bass and strum those two notes and they all decide to quit killing and backstabbing and arguing and hating each other and live their respective one lives in pursuit of peace and goodwill for all men. And then Jonny gets a call from some famous director and stars in the most best movies ever made. The end.

But seriously, Jon's scene went like this: Some guys are in a bar and a band is playing and the guys are watching appreciatively when this other guy bursts in and grabs one of the guys by the neck and waves his fist threateningly, if somewhat goofily, in the other guy's face while the band looks on.

You know how Neal Stephenson comes up with the most audacious names for his characters (Hiro Protagonist, Lord Alexander Chung Sik Finkle-McGraw, Nell, etc.)? I decided to see if I could come up with any names like that. Just for the poo of it. It'sharder than it sounds, but here goes. How about- Homie Lectronics? That's a good one. Ayatollah Noah Goldman. Harvey CEO. Nathan Newyorkcity. Alexander the Sub-Average. I always thought if I formed a band I would call it the Dumptrucks, and change my name to Danny Dumptruck, like Joey Ramone, Jonny Smelter and many others. Which reminds me that Sid Vicious is a pretty cool stage name. How about you? What can you come up with? Or tell me your favorite names in real life or fiction.
Here's another good one: Joe Anonymous. Then he could release a record, call it "Anonymous" and it would then be eponymous.

I started reading Snow Crash the other day- it's pretty good so far. It's by Neal Stephenson who wrote The Diamond Age which I blogged about a lot a while ago. About a lot a while ago. Clumsy, but catchy. I pooed in Pete Poland's potty. Some alliteration for you. Anyways, back to the literary critique. Well, I can't really critique something I only started, other than to say Neal Stephenson is brilliant (the main character's name is Hiro Protaganist), but I will recommend to you The Golden Compass, which I finished finally. That's the armoured poolar bear book. I can't believe no one thought of writing a book about armoured bears before. So go read it, it's good. As I recall, there was more than just bears in it. In fact, the bears might have been secondary. There are two more books in the series which I will have to pick up someday- undoubtedly the bears will have more of a prominent role in those ones.

Is there some word-limit to blogger poosts now? Because every time I try making a longer entry it just poos everything up- and I can't even get to Blogger's homepage until I restart. Ever since the Google deal. Weird. But I have found that pressing backspace in both windows of the edit page restores what you wrote, but then you have to cut words (which is never a bad idea) to make it a short enough entry for Blogger to accept. Grrrr. Some advice for those of you who like to write long entries- highlight your entry and copy it to your clipboard before you press the publish button, it might save you some aggravation.

Spring has arrived, more or less, but winter is like an athlete who should have retired long ago but refuses to. So even though it has been above zero for a few days now, today it snowed and snowed. Which would be fine if it hadn't also rained and rained earlier. So now there is 4 inches of poosnow (an Ancient Inuit Term for the type of sludgey snow we have right now) everywhere. Makes the roads hazardous. Anyways, last week I went and visited this old fellow who lives near campus. He is always out doing yard work, for the five years that I have lived in this area he has been a fixture, and a cheerful fixture at that, always talking to the passing students, offering them a smile or a laugh, or even, on occasion, a box of chocolates. I always thought he loved his yard work as he got to be outside to talk to his students. But lately he has been complaining about it a bit- he's 91 years old so I don't blame him. He's the oldest person I have ever known. So I went over there last week and he invited me in and we talked for like two hours, he gave me more cookies than I really wanted, and I offered to shovel his walk for him from now on. He was thrilled. So tonight after church I went over there and began shovelling the heavy poosnow. And when it's wet like this it's very heavy. Before long he was out there, happy to see me. He gave me advice on how to propely shovel snow (his methods necessarily bypass any heavy lifting, but I am young and strong so I just scoop and toss) and then said he would get out of my way, he actually even fired himself (twice) and then spent the next hour outside with me helping me out, though I made sure that I did all the hard parts. He has a huge sidewalk and driveway, and he also tries to keep the sides of his house snow free so that it won't melt and seep into his driveway. Anyways, it took a lot longer than I anticipated, but we got it done, for now. It was a good workout. Then he invited me in and made me tea. He told me more stories, like the time he served Prince Phillip in Yellowknife. The Prince is apparently a generous tipper. And he has a little TV that he watches- he told me about the show on Wednesday nights that comes on at 1AM which features scantily clad women frolicking by palm trees. I'm guessing he means an infomercial for a chatline or something. He's 91 and spry, like an imp, and he is a pleasure to hang out with. My new friend.
Go and read Scotty Superhero's article on his own nonagenarian friend, his Gramma, who sadly passed way this week.

After the World Vision thing, I dropped in on my friend Ronda and she spontaneously decided to burn me a CD, which I am listening to right now. She has fine taste in music. This disc is half TOOL songs, since Ronda is about the biggest TOOL fan ever. In fact, we went to the TOOL show last fall together, and it was pretty great. Anyways, this disc has a bunch of unreleased, rare, live or remixed tracks, and not just from TOOL, but also from Rage/Beasties, Mike Patton/Melvins, Skinny Puppy (Skinny Poopy), Filter, Kyuss. And even some Anthrax, covering the Beasties, sort of. And for a CD cover she had some cardboard images from an art company so she cut up this one with a robot head on it- it's poofect for this disc. But we were wondering about some of the alleged TOOL songs- like there's one with Creed, which seems like an odd pairing, and then the track I'm listening to right now- the Mission Impossible theme. When did TOOL do that? Or is it just a fakeout? Anyone know?
Oh yeah- Strange Brew where are you??? Your site has disappeared.

Do you think it's bad to rip a page out of a hymnal? I guess it's probably worth a few years in Poogatory. But my motives were pure. I can rationalize it thusly: 1) No one uses hymnals anymore, and most just gather dust; 2) Even if this particular hymnal is used, the chance that they will sing hymn #304 out of 500 or so is slim and 3) When I type out the lyrics for everyone in the world to enjoy, I am actually giving this ragged old hymn a new chance at life. So here, a la Desolation Angels, is Hymn #304 out of some church's hymnal, title and author unknown.

1. O Jesus, I have promised
to serve Thee to the end;
be Thou for ever near me,
my master and my friend:
I shall not fear the battle
if Thou art by my side,
nor wander from the pathway
if Thou wilt be my guide.

2. O let me feel Thee near me:
the world is ever near;
I see the sights that dazzle,
the tempting sounds I hear;
my foes are ever near me,
around me and within;
but, Jesus, draw Thou nearer
and shield my soul from sin.

3. O let me hear Thee speaking
in accents clear and still,
above the storms of passion,
the murmurs of self-will;
O speak to reassure me,
to hasten or control;
O speak, and make me listen,
Thou guardian of my soul.

There's a fourth verse but I only have three lines of it- I didn't want to press my luck by taking a second page. The hymnal, by the way, was from the church where the World Vidion fundraiser took place. It was alright- some good bands but they each only got 25 minutes so it was a little anticlimactic for most bands, including 7DF. Oh well, it was for a good cause.

Non-Poosical Moosical Memoriez
I mentioned a long lifetime of going to concerts, and you could be excused if you thought it was all hair metal concerts, for I have been to my share of those. However I am a Cultured and Avuncular Music Lover, and so I have also been to a number of great non-heavy concerts deserving of 0-poo ratings. I once got to see the Divine Emmylou Harris at the U of A. I went alone because no one I knew had heard of Miss Harris. Also while on my Cross-Canada Hitch-hiking trip in 1997, my travels happened to coincide with a Maritime tour of Canadian Bands that I loved- I saw Junkhouse in Charlottetown, the Headstones in Fredericton, and Wide Mouth Mason in Halifax. That show was in the campus tavern at Dalhousie University, and not knowing anyone in the entire province of Nova Scotia, I just sat myself down at the nearest table to the stage and introduced myself to the two ladies there. Turns out these ladies were the manager and agent of WMM's opening act, Dayna Manning. They informed me of this fact and I had to confess my ignorance as to who this young lady was. After a while Miss Manning joined us at the table and we enjoyed some witty repartee (for real, actually, I'm not being self-deprecating here). Her manager suggested she give me her autograph, and I told her it would be unnnecessary, and she said that she didn't mind at all. But I told her that small scraps of paper invariably wound up being used by me to start my campfires at night, and she accepted this with grace. Anyways, all that is to say she put on a killer show that night.
And when I was in Serbia (1995) I happened to glance at an open newspaper in our apartment, and using my Cyrillic reading skills, I was able to decipher a newspaper ad that read "bEETOBEN 9 CYM(l)ONIA" or something like that- Beethoven's 9th Symphony, so we went to that (I had a little mini-adventure getting the tickets) and it was amazing- Belgrade's Philharmonic was a little ragged, but good, and the 200 voice choir that performed the Ode to Joy part was a foretaste of the angelic choir in heaven.
I wanted to repeat the experience for my group in China, but despaired of finding an orchestra in the industrial city I was in, but serendipitously, I happened to talk to a laoshi who mentioned that the resident conductor was going back to Canada and would be performing a farewell concert! And we had all just gotten our fancy clothes- chipaos for the ladies and my ultracool handmade-for-me-in-two-days Mandarin suit. We made quite the impression and were treated as guests of honor even though we were just some punks from Canada.

GHOSTS!!!
A couple of weeks ago I was walking to my house with Rick and Alex and I happened to look into a house, and I saw a Spectre! It was an old man, all washed-out grey-glowy. Lesser men would have had the poo scared out of them, but not me. In fact, I told Rick and Alex to nonchalantly turn around so we could all see him. But then he was gone, which proves he was a ghost. But tonight I was walking past the same house and I didn't see any phantasms at all- and even worse, a motion-sensitive light came on as I passed. What kind of ghost haunts a house with a motion-sensitive light?
And speaking of the supernaturally weird, I recently discovered a new band, which isn't weird, but wait. KoRn has been plugging Deadsy for a couple of years now but I always ignored them for some reason, until this week when I happened to finally give them a chance. I like them- '80's new wavey synth stuff crossed with heaviness, kind of like Orgy's cover of Blue Monday, or much of Untouchables for that matter. So at supper I was telling my friends about them and this new girl Hannah happened to have a CD with the exact Deadsy track I was talking about (Key to Gramercy Park) on it! So I think Hannah is a ghost. And guess what? After supper I never saw her again. Eery.
Did you ever go and read my sister's tales of duendes? It is a good read about Mexican Zombie Ghost Children.

Speaking of KoRn offshoots and the like, I also ignored Fieldy's side project (Fieldy's Dreams) when it came out, but this week I took a listen, and though I wouldn't recommend the whole album, the track with Jonathan Davis is kickass, it's called Just For Now, and also Ortiz Anthem and Child Vigilante are decent tracks. More hip-hop than KoRn. Fieldy is an okay rapper, though he is a much better bassist.
And Soulfly is coming back to town! Except it seems a little expensive- $26.50 or something for Red's. They sure put on a good show, with a few classic Sepooltura songs (Roots, Chaos AD) and some Brazillian Tribal stuff which was among the very coolest stuff I've ever seen in a long lifetime of concerts- they all came out with these giant drums playing a cool beat in unison, and then Max had this bow and arrow thing that was an instrument. I saw them in September opening for Slayer. Hmm. I almost think it is worth it to see them again. Max is one of my musical heroes.

One advantage of a robot bear is he wouldn't poo anywhere.
Didn't that kid in Battlestar Galactica have a robot bear? I was really little when that show was on, so I don't remember much but I had quite a few toys from it, including the robot bear. Or was it a dog? Probably a dog, I guess, but a bear would be way cooler. There must have been some robot bears sometime in the history of the world. Or at least pop culture. Anybody know of any? I'm talking COOL robot bears, too, not like that robot teddy bear in A.I. They should be silver with red laser eyes NO- GREEN laser eyes! and claws that can shoot missiles, and titanium teeth, and, umm, little robot mice pilots. And they should be submersible, too, underwater robot bears. Then they could fight sharks. And spiders- I hate spiders.

Remember Tron? I sure do. In fact I even got the DVD last year when it came out- and then some guy who lived upstairs from me in my last house "borrowed" it and I never got it back. I hated it when these guys I didn't know but who shared the same address as me would come down and ask to borrow my DVD's. What was I supposed to say? I WANTED to say, "No, go away now, and eat my poo." But I am too poolite for that. So I grudgingly agreed, and would have to chase after them to get 'em back, and then I moved and the guy who had Tron was in Korea or something and so much for that. Grrrr. Anyways, Tron was a movie from the '80's that featured some pretty-amazing-for-its-time CGI. And now there is a Shockwave game based on the Lightcycles, one of the coolest things about the movie, which was actually pretty bad otherwise. Me and my friends used to play this game in the Wal-Mart at Hinton, among other places, but we lacked actual Lightcycles with color lines tracing our paths. Oh well it was fun, and the only thing funner is this game, which for some reason they call Chicken Run. Now someone needs to make a glowing frisbee game.
And here is another flash animation site- great theme song, but not as good as Homestar Runner- it's mainly just Itchy and Scratchy type stuff (so be warned- cartoon violence). Still, if you got nothing else to do, go to Happy Tree Friends. Also, while we're on the subject, here is the everyday happenings of weebl. Simple but amusing.

New Beasties! New Ramones Films!!
I can't believe it's been five years since Hello Nasty! And (wow) 16 or 17 years since License to Ill. Anyways, looks like we have to wait one more year for a new full-length CD from the Beastie Boys, but they have put a free mp3 called In A World Gone Mad on their website which addresses the Iraq situation. I'm listening to it as I type. It's good so go get it.
In other news, the Tribeca Film Festival in New York (I learned that Tribeca means Triangle Below Cacapoopoo- actually I forget now what the Ca is short for, but it's a neighbourhood in Manhattan) will feature TWO films about the Ramones, End of the Century: The Ramones Story and Hey! Is Dee Dee Home? Find out more about that here. I alerted Jonny Smelter to this development and he informed me it is very difficult to get tickets to the Tribeca Festival, but he will do his best. As for those of us who do not live in the Big Apple, we will likely have to wait till the arthouses pick them up or they go to DVD. But I think it will be worth the wait. In the meantime you can always rent Rock and Roll High School.

I was never one for Role Playing Games when I was younger- I tried them with friends, but it just wasn't as fun as going outside and fighting each other with sticks and throwing "knives". But if they made a RPG with bears, armored bears like in the Golden Compass, I might be tempted to take it up again. Here's how it would go.

Game Master (Gotthammer Mike): Ok, so you guys are approaching a cave when suddenly a horde of angry Hornet-Dogs attacks you.
Homie Bear: I kill them all with my Mighty Claws of Sharpness.
GM: No, Homie, you have to roll the dice and let others try and stuff. Besides, because the Hornet-Dogs have the advantage of surprise, they get to attack first and [rolls dice] they hit you for 13 hitpoints damage. They also hit Blu for 10 points damage.
Blu: Awwww.
Homie Bear: No I dodged at the last minute, and then I ate them.
GM: Sigh. No you didn't eat them, but now you get to counter attack. There's 13 Hornet-Dogs you have to kill. But Tom gets to go first. Tom?
Tom (my room-mate) : I flee in terror.
Blu: But he's our strongest warrior! I run away too.
GM: Four Hornet-Dogs follow you and sting you to death.
Tom: Awww.
Blu: Awww.
Superhero: Well, I use my super powers to hurl two of them over the cliff [rolls] . . .
GM: Too bad for you, they used their Staff of Opposite Effect and you are the one who gets thrown off the cliff. You're dead.
Superhero: Awwww.
Homie Bear: Well, I slash the first 6 Hornet-Dogs with my front paws, and bite 3 in half with my teeth, and then I send Legolas Mouse to kill the other one with his little mouse bow and arrow, and he shoots him so we win.
GM: No! You have to roll the dice and . . . [falls into a coma].
Homie Bear: Haha I used my Poo Power and take over the game! Homie Bear becomes Empooror of Middle-Earth and conquers the Universe!

Calgary is a fine city, but coming home today I realized (anew) how much I love Edmonton. It's my home. Had a good weekend though, the wedding was very Matrimonial and all, saw some old friends, and, umm, I guess that was about it. I'm proud to say I didn't get lost once.
After I got home I had an hour to get ready to speak at Lister Hall, a residence at the U of A. They had a church service in the Ship, which is the bar in Lister, and I was the pastor, so to speak. That went well- I like speaking/preaching, and some would even say I am good at it. I used as my theme or template or whatever, a quote I read on someone's blog once (if I can find the URL I'll link to it- and here it is): "You speak of resurrection, you tell your own stories, you wear your own scars." So I basically talked about two aspects of the Christian walk- the good (stories, John 10:10) and the bad (scars, Matthew 11:28, 29). So I delved into darkness a bit, but I lightened the mood by telling a story about pee (uhh, ask me about it in person) and I even put in a plug for Pooing in the Woods. Well, not really, but I had to explain what blogs were so I could use the quote and attribute it properly. Anyways, kind of a busy weekend, and sadly I missed a Gathering service for the first time in ages, but now I will go and relax some.

Holy poo it's cold out! -28 when I first checked this morning, with a low of -37 tonight! Looks like the Arctic has slipped some tendrils a little ways south. I half expect to see some poolar bears outside my window. Not that I'm complaining, because there is something almost mystical for me in the cold and snow, but it is March already . . .maybe Calgary will be warmer- it usually is but I heard the regions south of there were supposed to get 50 cms of snow last night so we'll see. Might not be the best weekend for travelling but what can you do? Speaking of trips south, here is a poem (not a pooem, sadly) I wrote for Jonny Smelter back when he lived in Calgary. I call it

Highway 2

Edmonton's here and Calgary is there
To travel between them few would dare
The road is treacherous when it snows
And even in the summer it's full of foes
It's not so much those hideous Orcs
As all those evil Flames-loving dorks
Then there are those meteor craters
Potholes brimming with alligators
And don't forget that greatest fear
That lurks on the road as you pass Red Deer
Like sirens of old is the Donut Mill
Calling you to stop and eat your fill
But when you do you must beware
For that is the site of a dragon's lair
This dragon has no flames or scales
Rather she relies on day-old stales
All of these hazards are scary indeed
But they do not mean that you can speed
Cause if you do you face another danger
A ticket handed out by a policecar ranger
A great hero it would take to make this trip
Unless you had an armourplated helium ship
But Jon is mighty and knows no fear
So why don't you come and visit me here?

So I'm off to Cowpootown tomorrow. Cowpootown being another name for Cowtown, being another name for Calgary, being another name for . . . ahh forget it. As an Edmontonian it is my solemn duty to insult Calgary at every oppoortunity, but the fact is I kind of like going there. To visit only, mind you. A very important person in my life is getting married on Saturday, so I am braving the cold, the wind, the ice and the snow to be there for her. Actually, Morna will be the one facing the elements, since she has Kindly and Valiantly Offered to give me a ride. My own car, as trustworthy as it has proven over the years, may not be up to the challenge this time.
Many years ago, when I was a Young and Naive Lad of 13, from the small town of Hinton, I decided to go to Calgary for Spring Break and stay with my aunt and uncle. It was great, my first real expereince in a "Big City" on my own, more or less. I went to Canada Olympic Park, which Rinlee informs me was once called Paskapoo Park. But my real desire was to go downtown and see Skyscrapers! I grew up in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains, and my big desire in life was to see some tall buildings. Anyways, I informed my aunt of my plan, and she told me I better study a transit map to figure out how to get there and back. This seemed like a waste of time to me since I knew that all buses eventually went to all stops in the city, as that was how transit worked. I would just hop on the first bus I saw, get off at the Calgary Tower, and when I was ready, catch whatevr bus was handy and go home. The first part of my plan worked beautifully, as my first bus driver happened to ask me where I was headed, and put me on a different bus (I figured he was going on his coffee break and put me on his buddy's bus) that took me right downtown. Sadly, I learned a painful lesson that night as I took a random bus and got very thoroughly lost and had to call my aunt to come rescue me. That started a Long and Venerable Tradition of me getting lost in Calgary. But luckily I always end up at Market Mall for some reason and can find my way from there.

Gold, Diamonds, Metal and Coal
Remember a while back when I said I bought a book cause it had a poolar bear on the cover? Turns out it also has a mouse on the cover too, so it is doubly good. Anyways, I started reading it the other day and I am enjoying it. Apparently there are some Mean Armoured Bears (panserbjorn) in it, though I haven't ran into any of those yet, but I bet they're pretty cool. I hope they win. It's called The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman. Anybody hear of it before? I haven't read a lot of fiction in the last few years, concentrating as I have on travel, history and biography, so I am out of touch on what's out there, especially in the fantasy genre. I haven't even read a Harry Pootter book yet! Though I have a deal with Erica that I will. I'm not a slow reader, at least I thought I wasn't, but I leant my room-mate Andrew The Diamond Age yesterday and he's done already! I couldn't believe it. I still haven't even finished the Asterix book I started last week.
Andrew and I discussed The Diamond Age while I was playing Twisted Metal Black. I thought cause he read it so fast he must have missed all the deeper stuff about subversiveness and intelligence. Nope. He is a pretty smart guy. But I am even smarter because I can discuss great works of literature while simultaneously blowing up cars and trucks. There's one guy in TMB who is sort of a Messianic Cult Leader himself- his special weapon is he shoots his followers at you, and they land on your car and tell you to repent, and then blow up from the dynamite they are strapped to. It's kind of a dark game. Twisted, I guess you could say.
Back when I was working at the coal mine, I had the oppoortunity to see my share of twisted metal out there, though we unfortunately do not run around shooting missiles at each other. But from time to time a truck (a big big truck- 170 and 260 ton models) or a dozer would suffer some mishap, maybe catch on fire or lose a tire and crash. One guy was particularly bad for causing the equipment to catch fire- he burned down my Dad's very favorite piece of machinery to run- 16 Backhoe. One time I heard him on the radio calling dispatch- "63 Cat to dispatch." No repsonse. "63 Cat to dispatch!" Still nothing. "63 Cat here, dis stupid ting is on fire!" He was just letting them know before he went and calmly put it out.
Anyways, I better not get started so that'll do for now.

And life goes on. No Apoocalypse yesterday. Maybe next year. Anyways, tomorrow is the beginning of Lent. The advent of Lent you might say. But not Advent. That was in December, if I remember. The Gathering as a church follows a litrugical calendar, so we observe Lent corporately, meaning we will not celebrate Communion until Easter. As far as individually observing Lent goes, it's completely up to us. And I haven't decided if I will or not this year. One year I gave up alcohol, another year the Simpsons, but this year I don't know- maybe I should give up blogging?
I like Blu's thoughts on Lent (March 3). I think maybe this year I should add a more better focus on prayer, or reading the Scriptures, or looking for God in other people or something (This is Nathan talking, not the Messianic Cult Leader Who Promotes Violence, by the way). Well, I'll give it some thought, and I'll let you know. Maybe.

The Apoocalypse- A Socratic Dialog 

Walking along the shores of Lake Paskapoo, an earnest young acolyte approaches the great Messianic Cult Leader Who Promotes Violence. They walk together for a time in silence, reflecting on the scenery and the fact that it was -15 degrees out. Luckily they were wearing their winter robes. "What are you thinking about, Master?" asked the acolyte after a time. "I am thinking I should not have had so much chili for supper last night. But tell me, Novice, what lessons can be learned from the ice and cold?" "Umm, the ice and cold reflect the state of mankinds' hearts, how they are closed off to the things of the Spiritual Realm." "Very good. Also, it teaches us the value of Winter Tires, or at least a good set of All Season Radials." "Which in turn reminds us of the great Wheel of Life, right?" "Well, sure. But something troubles you, my student." And indeed, the acolyte looked very downtrodden in spirit. "Master," said the acolyte, "today is the third day of the third month of the third year of the third millenium." "So it is, young Poodawan. What does this mean to you?" "Well, master, according to your teachings, today is the day of the Apoocalypse, when the Sun will turn brown like poo, and showers of poolike gelatin will rain down on the heathen masses, followed by the approach of the Four Horsemen of the Apoocalypse: Constipation, Diarhhea, Flatulence and Death." "It is? I said that?" "Yes master, you have prophecied this since last month. You told us it is an Ancient and Irrevocable Doom, and you instructed us to stock up on food and weapons." "Oh. Well . . . has there been any mention of this on the news?" "No master, thus far it has been a normal day- perhaps a few more fender benders than normal in traffic this morning, but no Horsemen of the Apooclaypse anywhere." "So what can you learn from this?" "Master, it troubles me to say this, but it seems like today is not the Apoocalypse at all, and I beg your forgiveness, but I am glad that it isn't, for I was scared. But doesn't this make you (forgive me) a false prophet?" The Messianic Cult Leader Who Promotes Violence chuckled for a second, and then said, "Let me enlighten you, my disciple. Although it is indeed the third day of the third month of the third year of the third millenium, umm, it is not yet the third age and so we are safe for another two ages of time. Now go, and get me some donuts."

I think my beloved Honda Civic needs some TLC. As you know, earlier in the year I had that flat tire, and after I got that fixed my muffler started to go. This was irksome to me since I had just gotten a new muffler two years ago. And then last year driving to the mine I ran over a rock that pierced a hole in the pipe so I had to get THAT replaced too. And now today I noticed the muffler is actually hanging down, seperated from the pipe. Rrrrggghhhh. Luckily Morna was there so I was able to contain my language. I didn't even say poo. On top of all that, which doesn't really affect driving, my car has had troubles starting for me the last couple weeks. It always starts, but it sure doesn't want to, and it's not even that cold. Today I thought it wasn't going to, but it Valiantly Made the Effort and came through. Me and that car have had some good adventures, so I am not giving up on it just yet. But it might soon be time to get a new one. Here is a love song for my car.

Little Green Jellybean
Fastest ever seen
Don't you know what you mean
To me?

You once were rear-ended
Your bumper got bended
I never got it mended
For free

Recall all the deer
That had come so near
If you didn't veer
In BC

Cops said we speeded
And said we repeated
But we never heeded
Did we?

And now you are breaking
Your starter is aching
Your muffler is shaking
I see

But you are my car
You've brought me so far
I think you're a star
Hee hee