Dan+Melissa engaged!

“No… wait. that’s not his truck.”

-all: “WHAT!?”

“Where is he?”

“oh, wait. text message: he’s just getting off the freeway.”

“you kidding me!?”

It’s 11:00pm on a friday night and I am crouched behind a corregated shipping container somewhere in Cloverdale, at the top of a hill; waiting for Dan and his soon-to-be fiance to arrive. It’s cold. It’s raining. I am covered in mud. My camera equipment is also wet, and covered in mud. I am part of the “the plan”

The Plan:
Set up pavilion in field.
Have 2 chairs in pavilion. Light many candles in and around the pavilion area
Have chairs in pavilion face large hill.
Rent Generator, Purchase copious amounts of Christmas lights. 30 strands?
spell out in 30ft block letters with Christmas lights: “Marry Me?”
When Dan, with signal given with flashlight, is about to ask the question: start generator and wow her with massive glowing “Marry Me?” text.
Take some pictures. (my part of the plan)

I have been out here for 20mins and I’m shivering, my shoes are wet, my nice pants are ALL muddy…
Nick and Mike have been out here since 7pm. setting up the lights. I’m such a you-know-what.

Nick and Mike discovered, in trying to set up the lights, that the effects of rain mixed with a steep incline equals an incredibly slick hill. They spent the better part of 3 hours stringing christmas lights across, (which i can testify to) probably the slipperiest hill in existance. By the time I arrived they were covered in mud. Head to toe. They even brought a toboggan, and it worked great. 

The Pavilion was a snap. (it’s actually the youth church creationfest tent) Simon had come by earlier and helped Nick set it up. What a guy. what character.

\\fast forward.

“thats Dan’s truck! its them! hide!”

 I can’t see anything. It’s dark out, I don’t have my glasses. 

“….they are sitting in the chairs….he’s talking to her…..they are hugging…..talking some more….”

I still can’t see anything from the top of the hill. 

“thats the signal! he’s shining the flashlight!”

Nick scambles out from our hiding place to start the generator. 

“God, please make this generator start. or this is going to really. really. suck.”

RoooooaaaaR! Generator On.

NOW i can see.

“he’s on one knee! he’s propsing!….. they are hugging now…….still hugging…..i think thats a yes……still hugging…..Is that a yes….?”

it was a yes. 

- Man this is what it is all about. Who gives up 5 hours of their time on a Friday night to set up an elaborate over-the-top scheme to help someone propose? After rain, mud and twisted knees we are all smiles. This was worth it. For a friend and brother this small task is nothing. everyone has gladly made themselves miserable just so someone can have a special moment. Which of your friends would do this for you? Which of your friends would you do this for? I hope the list is long; for both questions. 
I know this guy that talks a lot about being “others interested” -about putting your needs second to everyone else. About sacrificing for others. Maybe this is what it looks like. Maybe. 

Congrats to Dan and Melissa on the engagement! 

 

 

listening to shugo tokumaru

M83: Review

 

“DUDE I COULD SLAUGHTER EVERYONE IN THIS CLUB RIGHT NOW!” -Erik 

and that sums up M83.

Having never seen M83 live before i wasn’t quite sure what to expect. (For those of you who dont’ know what an M83 is, it’s a French… electronica? band that consists of one guy… his name is Anthony i think) He utilizes drum machines a TON in his songs and i wasn’t sure how it would carry over to a live performance.

Surprise! he conjured up a drummer, guitarist and keyboard player. Wasn’t expecting that. And this drummer. He stole the show. Towering above the audience and band in his clear plexiglas cage he embarked upon an assault on the drumkit the likes of which I have never yet seen. Clearly his girlfriend has been cheating on him, and he found out last night. He must have gone through 5000 drumsticks. It was carnage. The audience was awestruck. This was unexpected. 
- Any fears i had about the potency of M83 live have been remedied. This show was relentlessly epic. standouts for me were “teen angst” which whipped into a whirlwind of audio carnage almost to the point of unlistenability.  And then of course the encore of “Couleurs” which built and built and built into an unearthly roar until the audience was almost begging the band to stop.  

The opening band was good. Didn’t pay too much attention. Our group was preocuppied with a heated debate concerning the book of Mormon, the integrity McDonald’s, Satan, and the pitfalls of modern Universities. But they were good. If you know their name; let me know.

Overall:
M83: great on ipod, even better live.

God Bless The Internet

Seriously i love the internet. I bought almost all my christmas presents online, in the span of 2 hours!
what an age we live in, what a glorious time where all of my consumer needs are met here at my desk.

Amazon.ca : i bow to you; i shall slaughter a young calf in honor of the ease in which you have enabled me to purchase items.

paypall; to a lesser extent i adore you. You who enable those too fringe to be accepted mainstream marketplaces to sell their wares. You give the freaks a source of income. I respect thee.

listening to: telefon tel aviv!

The Irresistable Revolution: Review

Every State in the US was polled: the top 3 thoughts people have about Christians is this:
1. They are anti-gay
2. They are judgemental
3. They are hypocrites

If you don’t like Christians, you might want to read this book.
If you are a Christian and you still can’t stand Christians, then you definitely need to read this book.
If your a Christian and your facebook status for religion says something pansy along the lines of “I follow Jesus!”, “Jesus and me are tight!” “its not a religion its a relationship!” then you’ll adore this book… but it won’t really affect you in any way.

Synopsis:
Shane Claiborne is a Tennessee-raised, poverty-induced man living in a commune in the Ghettos of Philly where he and a ragtag band of ex-drug addicts, prostitutes, university students and business owners eke out a meager existence loving other people with everything they got while living in the conditions most people in east van cope with. Shane went to live with Mother Theresa in Calcutta for a while because she seemed to be having the best go at doing the whole “christian thing”. After this Shane visited Iraq while it was getting blown to smithereens, in the places where it was getting blown up, to meet with and chat with the families who were effected. Every once in a while they hit the deck. He’s been arrested over a dozen times protesting against abortion, war and child labour. He makes his own clothes. He has dreadlocks.

“the irresistable revolution” is basically a collection of Shane’s thoughts on a variety of subjects, highlighted by personal stories and great (fantastic even) quotes. The book follows his beginnings and growing disgust with the right-wing evangelical church up to his current life in the ghetto of philadelphia. The whole time you are punched, poked, prodded, stabbed, run through and gouged not by Shane’s blistering direct attack on your own life: but your own convictions as you begin to consider just what you life would begin to look like if you began even walking a foot closer to the life that Shane and these radicals lead. This book asks questions some of us don’t want to hear; and raises points and issues that most don’t want to address.
What would your life look like if you weren’t constantly worrying about your car? your shiny new mac? your $200 jeans and your $50 T-shirts? what if all you cared about was loving on other people? actually caring about them? What if God would handle the rest, all of it?
- In Shane’s case it seems you spend a lot more time helping drug addicts kick their habit and making prostitutes feel like human beings again than writing your term paper for your 4th year biblical studies class…
- You also seem to get arrested a lot more frequently by standing up for the rights of people who are marginalized.
Shane’s writing style is personal and very easy to follow along with. He is quite similar to Donald Miller of blue like jazz and to own a dragon fame. He is incredibely capable of making the reader feel involved in a conversation. Shane doesn’t claim to know all the answers, but he sure voices his opinions.

Personally this book was challenging. It forced me to re-asses what i was doing on a week-to-week basis to help in the lives of other people. Do i take the time in my week to make other people the focus?  (and no, going for coffee with your christian friend doesn’t count).
more disturbingly, this book also holds up a picture of the world in front of you and says; “see this? you gotta care about everything, man. not just the 50mile radius in which you live in. you got it easy! think bigger than the mall.” scary stuff. Now i KNOW not everyone has to be trekking through Africa, drilling wells and stitching wounds; but Shane very convincingly makes the case that if you call yourself a christian: the poor should be on your mind, and should be affected by your actions. all the time. not on your annual 2 week missions trip. As you can see; some who are in a comfortable place right now will perhaps be a little off-put by this book.

Overall:
I highly recommend this book. it’s wicked. it’s hip. It packs a punch.
-whether that punch breaks through the readers highly developed armor of western materialism and individualism is up to the reader.

Sidenote: Shane visited Northview Community Church last weekend as a guest speaker. His southern twanged accent is great. he likes to eat Indian food. He really does wear nothing but his own, hand-made clothes. He is a very good speaker albeit less interesting if you just read his book a day prior-most of his speaking content comes from the book. However one of his most interesting little facts about the world is this: for the amount of money North American spends in a year on bottled water – that amount could fund the drilling of wells which would totally eliminate deaths due to lack of water in the entire world. woah.

Listening to: black mountain, aphex twin, telefon tel aviv

Obama – Where Was I?

where were YOU?

A lot of people have claimed that the Election day of Barack Obama (whether you think he is the antichrist or the next MLKjr.) is one of those events that you will always remember where you were when it happened. Events such as a Limo getting into a car accident, some planes hitting a building… and now a black man becoming commander in chief. All tragedies in their own right, some would argue.

Myself? i can’t remember where I was when i heard about Diana’s car crash. I remember seeing it on TV and people talking about it, but i don’t think i really cared that much about someone dying in a car accident. Happens all the time!
The World Trade Center, now that i remember. i was listening to my clock radio tuned to none other than 104.9 XFM.
because it was cool.
my DAD listened to the Fox.
lets avoid the conversation that both radio stations essentially for 2 years were playing nothing but some sort of endless Nickleback, Creed and Theory of a Deadman Megamix. That was a dark time in the music world. Make no mistake.
So yes. XFM. Pepper and Crash? was that the morning show? I’m not gonna lie: Larry and Willie on the fox made pepper and crash sound like a bunch half-drunk frat boys somehow had broken into a radio broadcast booth and were attempting to tell every dirty joke they could before security caught them: Their morning show was garbage.

However this morning was different: Pepper was talking in a sullen, subdued voice… like he was talking about something that mattered to him. You would think he was explaining to his dad how that girl he was dating was actually still in high school; and yes, she was pregnant.
This was new. This was something to pay attention to! And so the soon-to-be-jobless 18 year old radio DJ’s were confronted with the difficult task of telling their listeners the news that America was under attack from what? they don’t know.

Thank you XFM. You reputable bastion of broadcast integrity, you hath informed me of tragedy.

Barack Obama.

snowboard premier: An event where hundreds of snowboarders (shredders) rent out and descend upon a movie theatre to watch the latest cinematic release of another crew of shredders (snowboarders). The movie is usually 30-45mins long and contains no content besides that of professional snowboarders professionally snowboarding. The music jumps between that of Gangster Rap, Techno Beats, and punk rock/heavy metal. Age of attendees is between 14-25. blood/alchohol levels also rise in direct correlation to age, as well as number of X’s on oversized t-shirt/hoody combo. Prizes are thrown into audience at end of movie, often by the same proffesional snowboarders featured in the movie itself.

Peter Line: Professional Snowboarder. The man is a dynasty. He is a founding member of Forum Snowboards and invented half of the tricks in snowboarding today. In the 90’s he was spinning cork before most people knew how to carve. For his part in “True Life” – (regarded as one of the greatest snowboard movies of all time) he was buttering into 7’s off tables, it would take another 5 years before people realized what buttering was. He rocked pink and rainbows on his board art before the gay/lesbian community had even copywrited the rainbow.

So prizes are being thrown into the crowd at random by the personelle onstage, things generally have degraded to the level of near-riot when the MC begins to drunkenly thank the sponsors: “like to thank Forum snowboards, Toyota, Foursquare…”

just then Peter Line grabs the mic from the sponsor and in a surprising act of political awareness, shouts;

“and thanks to America! for electing Barak Obamaaaaa”
- A great cheer erupts from the crowd of snowboarders, most of whom have no idea what Barak’s stance is on Foreign policy… or abortion… or anything for that matter. You might even argue that half of the people in attendance are under the impression that he is sponsored by the popular clothing company “obey”… Kinda like how Che Guevera is the lead singer of rage against the machine.

While many think no more of Obama than a trendy shirt that exponentially increases their game in bars and clubs… and regardless if very few actually know what his stance is on…anything: what matters is that for a moment, just a chronic-and-booze influenced moment, we were all unified in the glorious knowledge that somewhere. somehow. someone had just stuck it to someone. and they weren’t very happy about it all.

And thats how i found out that Obama was president.

listening to TV On The Radio.

Halloween

I’m at Ben’s house. it is a halloween party. The pumpkins are in the process of getting carved. I arrived late. Our stock of flammable/explosive devices is considerable. I arrive just as the mood of the party shifts to one of business.

There is something sacred in the tampering of screecharoos to make them into tiny sticks of dynamite:
it is ritual, it is culture. it is passed on from generation to generation, different geographical locations in North America have different methods. It is a right of passage.
We are in Ben’s shed. two are wrapping the screechers in tape, two are hammering. A single, dim incandescent light is all the illuminates the cobweb-filled shack. Tools hang from hooks on walls; our shadows dance across walls as the light swings precarious and flickers ominously. the *Crack *Crack *Crack of hammers echo around us like a jackhammer.
You wrap from the wick end first and spiral downwards, you apply a second piece of tape to the end, so the clay doesn’t come out. The more tape the better. The best tape is Duct. Second is Electrical. Third is packing tape. scotch rarely works. Some simply stomp the screecher with their foot: They have no respect for the craft. You hammer it flat, then flip it over and hammer the other side. hammer from wick side down to the end, then back up. Don’t hit with a glancing blow or you might tear the screecheroo open.
The men fall into an almost mechanical pace: tape is systematically wrapped and torn, wrapped and torn, wrapped and torn. screecher is passed to those hammering. passed to those hammering, passed to those hammering. Those hammering fall into a simultaneous pace, what was once discorded hammer falls of “tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap” becomes a single blow of “CRACK, CRACK, CRACK”
we are in Africa, beating our lumps of metal into machetes.
we are in Egypt, chiseling sandstone out of a quarry.
we are here, 800 years ago, smashing a rock into an arrowhead.
It is a breakneck pace, all must be finished; tunnel vision is experienced in the extreme. Some onlookers have never seen this before. They learn from watching; see what is done. If a male sees this ritual it is locked into his memory forever. At any given point at any time in his life in the future; if the situation calls for him to craft an explosive device from a consumer-grade firework: he will be able to.

Finally it is done. There are no more resources to consume. The tape has expired. The workers look up, blinking. as if emerging from a dark cave for the first time in years. The annual rites has been completed once again.

happy halloween.

Listening to FabricLive 41, mixed by simian mobile disco.