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I stayed up late waiting for you to arrive. but it was too much for me and I fell asleep. When I woke you had already come and gone, and I had missed you.

Sick

I’m in Brazil and i’ve been mad sick for 5 days now. If your the praying type I’d love some. I only just started eating solid food. luv you all kthxbye

Airport Showdown

Brazillian airport, arrivals, alternate lineup for baggage search:

“open the bag please sir”

oh shit

I lay out the contents of my bag on the polished aluminum desk in the flourescent light. I am a doctor, carefully laying out his instruments for surgery.

1 “sex god” book by Rob Bell (re-reading it)
1 firewire cable
1 dell laptop
1 hoody (from zumiez, $14)
1 nintendo DS: final fantasy 6 and FF tactics thank you very much
1 ipod classic 120GB ( airborne toxic event playing)
1 ipod USB cable
1 Canon XH A1 3CCD professional video camera. dang.

This has happened before. My last trip: Lima, Peru
we got hit with a $1000 fine for having pro equipment. had to pay in cash. they took our gear until we coughed up the dough. and our passports. These guys, they want cash. No Visa. If you got anything that looks pro: they can smell it from a mile away, the try and get you, smack you with a fat bill. They scan your bags not to stop terrorism, they scan to make coin. This customs agent, he will try and corner you: prove you need to pay, you: the under-the-radar video and photog have to parry and dodge his blows. He’s on the offensive, you have to defend.
Whether you have to pay a grand depends on the next 4 minutes of dialogue.

like they say in the schoolyard: its on

He saunters up to the counter, looking smug with his dashing moustache and customs uniform. He thinks he has this one in the bag. A little extra money on the side, maybe head to the bar tonight.
People in the lineup are looking over, the other customs agents at the scanner machine are smirking, the dude with the metal detector wand is leaning against the gate. They all know its On.
We face each other, shoulders squared off like this is some samurai showdown or high school arcade showdown.

Ok buddy, you think you can take me!? I’ll tear your face off.

“what you coming to Brazil for?” he grills me in broken english

nice right hook, but its a little slow. Homo

“touristo! tourism” – shooting a smile.

Block, counter. Gaurd up

he levels a bone chilling gaze at me: “Define Tourism”

Ouch, fiece punch high, tap “A” to get up!

crossing arms: “oh you know, travelllll, see some siiights, meet interesting peeeople, maybe meet some laaadies.”  - wink.

charmander is paralyzed!

Opens up my laptop. it comes out of hibernation. Have Adobe lightroom open.
“What is this?”

You know nothing. I’m sorry Espanol, your princess is in another castle

“It’s a computer.”

down, diagonal, forward + Punch: Hadoken!

That pissed him off a little bit. He picks up the camera.

Magicarp! hit him with a splash attack!

“Is there something wrong with my camera? You don’t like? Too big?” -Big smile.

Back, Down, Diagonal Foward and punch: Shoyruken!

“How much your camera cost?”

a trap. But i done my research. Anything over 3k and you got me.

“Oh about two thousand US”

Low kick countered, Back, Diagonal, Down, Diagonal, Foward and punch: Yoga Flame!

“…it looks new…”

Enemy is low on health

“It’s 3 years old. Christmas present from my mom!” -smile

Headshot! No scope!

“…ok…get your things, you can go.”

Finish Him

“Thanks, and hey! you have yourself a good night!”

Fatality! Flawless victory.

It’s all over. 2 people are seriously maimed from the collateral damage. The terminal is in shambles. Broken glass lies everywhere. holes the size of houses in the floor and ceiling from the wayward energy beams. Everyone has long since ducked for cover under the converyor belts and seats. The dust clears. It’ll be several minutes before the SWAT teams arrive. The champion reholsters his Revolvers, Puts the extra quarters in his back pocket, powers down from super saiyan. He looks over to the remaining airport staff: “you remember this day forever.”

He slowly repacks his belongings, whistling. Grabs his checked luggage, and saunters out of the airport. Whistling.

Chaco

The Mennonite colonies are almost identical to the little towns from “the village” except without actor Adrian Brody pretending to be handicapped.

each town less than 5000. in the middle of the north western wastelands of paraguay. All farmers. All go to the same church. All won’t talk to you unless you name ends in “Klassen” or “Neuman”. All have children that just stare at you silently and utter one word answers to your questions.

downright eerie.

Stayed with a cattle farming family for one night. with a fellow from the congo. Every book in their house what christian literature. Everything was dated from the 70’s.

downright eerie.

We chatted late into the night, me and Mr.Congo talking about Rwanda, the Tutsis and Hutus, what that means for the Congo etc. over a bowl of grapefruit. The family was floored that they had a real live black man in their living room. their daughter didn’t say a word. sheltered like you wouldn’t believe in this town. its like Abbotsford on steroids. We talked of genocide. The United Nations. Muslims. He speaks 6 languages. Crazy.

Oh: She was 18. blonde.

Glances were exchanged.

coaxed a smile out of her.

then i saw the gun rack. abort. abort!

In Asuncion now. Capital. video is going mediocre. schedules are too hectic.

listening to James Blackshaw and Major Lazer

Paraguay

me.
and 30 pastors.
crazy parties like you wouldn’t believe.

been filming in Paraguay at ICOMB (some words that stands for all the big-shot pastors of every country in the world get together and rave on mad drugs  for 3 days)

by rave i mean discuss church biz and by on mad drugs i mean eat a lot of farmer sausage.

So i had 4 (ish) videos to do:

1. 19 pastors, video them greeting the whole Menno world conference from their respective countries. (for a video celebrating the Mennonite Brethrens existance for 150 years)

2. video of Randy Friesen: Menno Missions kingpin greeting the whole world for MBMSI’s latest batch of DVD’s they are sending to the world.

3. Interview this guy named Victor Wall at a television studio.

4. Get footy and sick pics of Paraguay like this was the BBC and i was filming Baraka

So far on level of amazing the shots are:

1. eeh 8/10

2. mm 7/10

3. totally got effed and we are doing it next week. 0/10 fail.

4. been stuck in a university for the last 2 days. 2/10 fail.

this week: 3 and 4 NEED to happen

In other news:

Picture paraguay. if you can’t picture paraguay picture some other south american city of 1.8 million (or so). by that i mean houses made of red brick, its hot. 8pm.  still 18 celcius. I’m in a university. Think the UFV campus compressed down to 1/10th its size. there is lush vegetation in the form of trees and gardens all around the campus. everything is very compressed. tight walkways, some of the roofs are that corragated metal tin. The rooms are typical nearly 3rd world affair. Picture the house from Fight Club. Every time we use a toilet it needs to be fixed to allow the water to refil, the windows are streaked with grime, the walls should have been white. One time. They are a yellowish tinge. The fan in the ceiling has shed its plastic casing and has revealed its motor and electrical guts for all to see. it circles lazily in the ceiling casting running shadows along the tiled floor in the fading light of the day.

I’m on the top bunk reading “To Kill A Mockingbird” and listening to Bibio on my ipod. Mike, my chinese UBC engineering student partner is playing starcraft on his laptop beneath me. (no jokes) while we banter here and there about brazil, spiritualism and any other sort of thing that pops into our heads.

It is quite for a while. the sun skinny dips itself into the horizon. lazy minutes roll by. the world darkens.

“Hey Clint…”
“Yeah what?”

“…is that lightning?”

It looks like someone is taking wedding photos outside our window. Which is impossible because we are on the 3rd floor.
“hmm”

We take a look into the horizon and galloping towards us: a black wall,kicking out flashes of light like it was a mobile rave. We watch through the darkened, grime covered window for about a minute before heading out onto the balcony on the other size of the building. Mach 3 is how fast this storm is heading. this continental cloud landmass stretches across the entire horizon, looming. at the university: all is calm and quite.
“This is gonna be so, so sick.”

suddenly wind from a refrigerator blasts through our complex and doesn’t let up. 20km, 40km, rocking 60 at least has the trees going epileptic. lighting coming and it doens’t let up. 1 second space between hits. regular thunder battle rollin’ through town. the sky is black when it isn’t electric. closer. closer. closer.

I jump up onto a half-completed wall to sit and watch the show.
“man, haven’t seen a storm like this in a long time.”  -Clint
“I’ve never. ever. seen this.” -Mike

And then its on us. raindrops on steroids. near vertical. might as well have gone swimming. Fog outta nowhere, engulfs all. What once was a good view of the vistas and corrugated steel roofs of the slums has become a wall of white. lighting. too much. no delay between the hits just non stop rolling with it, a strobe light the size of a city. ghost forks snaking like cobras dancing through trees. no thunder. just light. nobody is touching down tonight, its all for show. no use trying to take pictures: all you would get is the purple white of burning ozone. every once and a while the maelstrom saves up a big one. the strobe light slows… slows…

then your blind.

it was midday for a second there except purple. nuclear winter. soaked now and can’t stop yelling into it. Clouds are so low you could scoop a handful of the stuff and put it on your dessert. Yelling at a ceiling 4 feet away and something up high, deep inside it, dead in the heart of that living, breathing thing yells back.

its 3am. time for bed. need to wake up at 6:30.

Last Sip

That last one, it always gets me: The one where you need to stare straight at the ceiling to get the final minuscule amount left. The one where the reward does not warrant the effort in the least, but still you try: arching your back like you were punched in the kidney, eyes glazed over and bulging as if you were being strangled, throat convulsing in desperate need to choke back the last. few. drops.

It’s already empty and you know it. It’s just the possiblity of more that goads you to try your luck. Then, once your finished you’ll smack the cup on the table with a hollow “clap” like a miniture hockey puck hitting the ice. You’ll let out rehearsed “aaah” and make a snapping sound with your tongue off your bottom row of teeth.

I can’t stand it when you drink coffee, but when you go for that last sip I want to cut your head off.

Listening to: DJ/Rupture

The Bible and eating Turkey

(sorry for the christian post. who wants to read that crap anyways?)

Here we go:

Eat your bible.

yup.

Gorge yourself on it.

It’s steak.
Its’ king crab.
It’s easy Mac.

Consume the Bible like your an angry furnace from a disney movie with red-hot flames bursting out of your robotic maw. 
 
It’s a massive BLT
It’s a hamburger, juicy sweet.
It’s fruit loops.

Tear the meat from it’s duminutive frame like a school of piranhas eviscerating a cow.

It’s warm brownies with vanilla ice cream.
It’s the biggest slurpy ever, on a hot day.
It’s  a massive Sushi platter.

But really it is most like a roast turkey

You ever carved a Turkey? You ever watch someone carve a Turkey? no doubt you had some turkey in the last couple days; it probably was great.
I had to carve the Turkey this year; my grandfather was out of commission, no relatives had arrived yet who were skilled in the art of carving so it fell upon me to carve the Christmas turkey. One thing you realize right away is that on that pan that comes steaming out the oven your only going to eat about 1/2 of what is on that plate. As you carve you throw away what seems an exorbant amount of refuse. Which is good, because no one wants to eat the bones, hardened cartilage, sinew, chunkcs of fat, joints, spine vertebrae etc. that is in that Turkey. We only want to the yummy, yummy meat. white or dark. take your pick. 

Hence; Carving

But that is too often our approach to the Bible: just keep the juicy, tasteful bits that we can suckle on, and throw everything else into the trash. Some of that other stuff, man that is just too challenging and tough, and hard, and not very tasty at all. Why not just stick with what we know and like and that makes us feel good: the loving, caring, personal aspects?  Why can’t we just keep eating the easily digestible parts? I have a sensitive stomach! I might throw up!

But the Bible is like a turkey, and you gotta eat that whole thing.

That stuff you don’t agree with, those parts that make NO SENSE at all, the things you have to spend hours studying to understand: eat it anyways. 

Tear.
It.
Apart. 

Rip open the carcass of that bird with your bare hands. Snap those glistening bones in half with your jaws, suck the spongy marrow from them.  Tear the cartilige from the joints; chew it around like gum in your mouth. don’t get distracted now, Slurp down those slimy chunks of fat though it might cause you to gag a little, you need this. your starving. Eat the heart. Let it stain your teeth red. Leave nothing. Break the neck, mince the vertebrae to splinters. Wolf down the skin. veins, coagulated blood. It dissolves like dust.  Eat it all like your a werewolf.  Tilt the pan up to the ceiling. Swallow the juices it has been simmering in, the light brown liquids running down your cheeks and staining your shirt. 

Your Done. It’s filling.
you demon you.

Middle East Conflict, Facts: Book Review + more!

Friday Night. Me and Matt are gunna shoot some guns… scratch that, were. then it got -7 and windy as sin. Now we are going to drive to Langley to pick up some people and watch the hot rock show in Langley tonight: Texas swing, Against Grey and the February’s playing at vineyard church.

This is as good as it gets folks: All of Langley is out for the show. Well… anyone in langley between the ages of 17-22 who is heavily affiliated with a Christian institution… So TWU students and kids that attend a youth group. Overall the highlight of the show was the people; you’ve never met angstier teens more anxious to start a slam pit. The music was ok. I’m not a fan of hard screamo so it wasn’t totally my thing. Neither was it really everyone else’s; its more of a way for people to not be lonely on a friday night. Bless those considerate christians and their non-offensive rock shows… Besides Drew Mckay’s guitar. 

From there: drive 6 people to their respective homes in Langley and Whiterock… and then pick up someone in Surrey and driving even more people back to Abbey. Decided to sleep in Abbey. Decided to read before crashing on the couch of Dallas. Decided to steal a book from his room. The above book looked interesting.

Review:
Randall Price loves Jews. He just loves Jews. I have never read a book that says so many good things about Jews and how they can and have kicked Arab culture all across the middle east. It makes me want to be a Jew. Prior to this book i knew very little about the historic (1900-present) history of the Israel-Palestine confict. Since i have no other literature to contrast this book with I can only assume it is highly biased. I feel it is anyways. More research is required. Similarities implied between Yasser Arafat/Hitler and Palestine/Nazi’s are FAR too common for me to take this seriously. You can only throw around the ace-card hitler so many times before it gets played out. A highly informal book however; if you have no idea at all why everything is so effed in that region of the world this book is a great set-up. Granted; you may come out of this literary excursion with a newfound love of the bad-assness of the Jewish military and their generals. This book is highly guilty of compressing 100 years of history into a formula of:

“Jews are innocent, peace-loving farmers who get persecuted by their Arab neighbours again and again until they can’t take it and stand up for themselves; when this happens they take on multiple countries at once in war and humiliate anyone who praises allah, once this is accomplished they go back to eating kosher. rinse and repeat.”

Overall: good read, informative. NEED to get a second opinion. use your brain.   

 

Listening to Coheed, Beirut and Empire of the sun

Thou Shalt Always Kill

Thou shalt not steal if there is a direct victim
Thou shalt not worship pop idols
Or follow lost prophets
Thou shalt not take the names of Johnny Cash, Joe Strummer, John Hartmond, Desmond Dekker, Jim Morrisson, Jimmy Hendrix or Sid Barrett in vain.

Thou shalt not think any male over the age of 30 that plays with a child that is not their own is a peadophile, some people are just nice.

Thou shalt not read NME
Thou shalt not stop liking a band just because they became popular
Thou shalt not question Steven Fry
Thou shalt not judge a book by its cover
Thou shalt not judge lethal weapon by Danny Glover

Thou shalt not buy Coca Cola products
Thou shalt not Nestle products

Thou shalt not go into the woods with your boyfriends best friend, take drugs, and then cheat on him
Thou shalt not fall in love so easily

Thou shalt not use poetry, art or music to get into girls pants…
…use it to get into their heads.

Thou shalt not watch Hollyoaks
Thou shalt not attend an open mic and leave as soon as you’ve done your shitty little poem or song, you self-righteous prick.
Thou shalt not return to the same club or bar, week in, week out Because you once saw a girl there that you fancied; that you’re never gonna f*cking talk to.

Thou shalt not put musicians and recording artists on ridiculous pedestals.

No matter how great they are, or were.
The Beatles were just a band.
Led Zeppelin , just a band.
The Beach Boys , just a band..
The Sex Pistols , just a band.
The Clash , just a band.
Crass , just a band.
Minor Threat , just a band.
The Cure , just a band.
The Smiths , just a band.
Nirvana , just a band.
The Pixies, just a band.
Oasis , just a band.
Radiohead , just a band.
Bloc Party , just a band.
The Arctic Monkeys, just a band.
“The next big thing”, just a band.

Thou shalt give equal worth to tragedies that occur in non-english speaking countries as to those that occur in english speaking countries

Thou shalt remember that guns, bitches and bling were never part of the 4 elements and never will be.

Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music
Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music
Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music
Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music

Thou shalt not Pimp My Ride.
Thou shalt not scream if you wanna go faster.
Thou shalt not move to the sound of the wickedness.
Thou shalt not make some noise for Detroit.
When i say “Hey”, thou shalt not say “Ho”
When i say “Hip”, thou shalt not say “Hop”
When i say, he say, she say, we say; “Make some noise.”, kill me.

“Ah, I’ve forgot were i was, hang on…”

Thou shalt not quote me happy.
Thou shalt not shake it like a polaroid picture.
Thou shalt not wish your girlfriend was a freak, like me.
Thou shalt spell the word “Pheonix”
P-H-E-O-N-I-X.
Not, P-H-O-E-N-I-X, regardless of what the Oxford English Dictionary tells you.

Thou shalt not express your shock at the fact that Sharon got off with Brad at a club last night by saying; “Izziiit”

Thou shalt think for yourselves.

And thou shalt always, thou shalt always, kill.

I’m a big fan of this song. Some people think its garbage but… I love it anyways.
“Thou Shalt Always Kill” by Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip

A Tale Of Two Cities: Review

 

“A Tale Of Two Cities” is one of those books. You know the ones i mean:  A much-lauded piece of literature that apparently means something, that has intrinsic historic value, that will better the lives and expand the minds of those who read it. This bad boy is the literary equivalent of Mozart or Bach. Apparently good for your soul. Apparently important to have read. Apparently. 

One thing I did not know about Charles Dickens prior to reading this book is just how dang funny the guy is. Seriously. Somehow he managed to write an entire story about the french revolution (thats what the book is about btw) and not once make it seem gloomy or depressing. Quite often while reading you must stop yourself and say: “wait, i just read a paragraph detailing the slaughter of every living person in a castle.” whoa. You would think after readin this book that everyone wore a smile during the French Revolution, and when it was all over gave each other a pat on the back and went home. OR that this one section of human history transpired entirely within the framework of a children’s television show. Either way, the blackest of comedy. 

But is it good? Well for one your going to be bored out of your mind. For about…. 5/6ths of the book. Only at the very end do all the story arcs occuring simultaeneously finally converge to create the raw human emotion that you’ve been looking for. In that way you can liken this book very much to the movies:  ”Snatch” or “Lock, Stock and 2 smoking barrels.” There is just so much stuff happening that seems unrelated that only in the very end does it all come together and you, the idiot reading, spends the next 3 hours going “oooooh”.

Yes i just compared Charles Dickens to Guy Ritchie.

Unfortunately for you: if you do anything other than read the book in it’s entirety you will walk away thinking it is the biggest piece of garbage ever written. Very similar with Lock,Stock: I had a number of friends over to watch it; They all had to leave prior to the ending. They all probably thought it was the dumbest most boring movie in existance. Same Deal. If your gonna read it, you gotta COMMIT son. 

So once it’s all said and done: Is the book worth reading? Probably not. It’s a great book but its just too much of a task to get through. The payoff is big, i must say. The whole Sydney Carton: ”It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” really gets you in the end. Brings some tears to the eyes. That alone makes most of the book worth it. It IS a great book. But after 9-12 hours of reading? no thanks. If i wanted to cry that bad I’d creep an ex’s facebook while listening to The Decemberists or Bon Iver. 

Overall: It’s a classic. But not enough return on the investment. 

 

 

Listening to Modest Mouse… and Bon Iver.