A Photo Essay: Festivus! For the rest of us.

For those of you who know him, it's no big surprise that we own what is perhaps the most dramatic Jack Russell known to man. Even more so than 'Eddie' from Frasier (just because he's obedient and can do a few tricks doesn't mean he's an actor). Oliver shows off his flair for the boards every single day with a tenacity that's only befitting to a terrorist...urm, terrier. So without further ado I present to you:
Festivus! For the rest of us, as enacted by Oliver J.

Muzak

Why are we such slaves to our emotions? Even the most stalwart amongst us falls prey to 'feelings' whether they be good or bad, it's one of those things that seem to always have a tenuous grip never willing to let go. Often when one's emotions club them in the back of the head leaving them an immobile pile on the floor they tend to turn towards music.

Bit silly innit? Whether it be a euphoric high or an epic low point there's always something that fits neatly into the 'soundtrack of our cutting edge lives.'* What ticks within us that finds the need to express ourselves through tightly written verses accompanied by some sort of instrument? When you think about it sounds absolutely absurd. Whilst going through the aforementioned highs and lows it's almost impossible to think coherently enough to be intelligible let alone eloquent. Perhaps it's because I strive to live my life as an emotionless android like Data that I generally view the whole process of song writing as suspect.

Come on, it doesn't really take much sleuthing to find terrible music written by people in the throes of some sort of emotional flux. Just scroll through a few random blogs and I'm sure you'll find some really poor emo which will make you want to gag. Leave the song writing to the professionals okay kids? Although it's innately within us, sometimes expressing it is best left to the professionals. Or those select few individuals out there who actually have talent.

I'm not a hater, because as I sit here and write I've got my headphones on and am listening to some music at a dangerously high volume. Fighting the urge to retreat with my baggage full of feelings and get lost in the sounds and words which I have no right over, but which have a hold over me. It's a bit strange that someone else's words and feelings can have so much resonance with another person, regardless of if they've ever met each other before or not.

I always want to jump in a car and start driving with a car full of people when I listen to Franz Ferdinand. Unfortunately there are a few things which are standing in the way of my doing that right now, lack of insurance, a car and a bunch of people.

*Care of edge102

More Randomness from the Hustings

Did any of you get a chance to see the creepy Paul Martin gingerbreadman picture in yesterday's Metro?

*shudder* It's put me off of ginger and any variation thereof for life.

I know. What the hell is going on, 2 posts in one day. The only explanation I have is that it's exam time, and I'm procrastinating.

Mike 4 Prez

I really like my Canadian history course. Because unlike Canadian politics, it doesn't focus on *yawn* federalism. Yesterday while sitting in the George Ignatieff theatre gearing myself up for another great lecture (my professor is amazing). I again realised that politics is much like high school. Sometimes humoursly so. My prof is an older man, who bears a striking resemblance to one of ammi's more affable uncles. So when he likened Michael Ignatieff to a media whore like former PM John Diefenbaker, I laughed. Laughed more than is appropriate for Canadian history, because its very nature is to bring people to tears.

Being a 'founding' member of the United Nations, you better believe that Canada was present, but completely invisible at the April 1945 UN conference in San Fran. We represented yo. Dief, who was a member of the Conservative party tried to poke himself into the negotiations which were being handled by Mackenzie King's Liberals. Long story short, Dief decided that it would be beneficial towards his cause to get into negotiations by having his face snapped up by the attending photogs. As my prof put it 'Much like my esteemed colleague from the depatment of Political Science is doing right now, using his face to further his cause.' I think Prof. Bothwell is perhaps a wee bit jealous? I've never heard anyone call him a cerebral sex symbol.

Then again, he is bald.

Possibly the hottest thing ever...

...to have come out of Sri Lanka, seconded only by my grandmother's chicken curry.*

Nigel Barker

My jaw has never literally 'dropped.' I don't get shocked easily and never when I'm watching television. Least of all America's Next Top Model. Last night when I got home from my night class I turned on the tube while eating dinner. (I know! What class. But that's what I'm all about.) Lo and behold I managed to catch America's Next Top Model on CityTV Vancouver (3 hours behind us). Long story short, this week's challenge was a 'Bollywood' inspired one, with Nigel doing the photography. Turns out that good ol' Nige is half Sri Lankan! My jaw literally fell open in shock. That's never happened before, nor do I ever want to repeat that performance.

And I think I have just officially outed myself for having some really dirty television watching habits. The horror.

*Seriously, the picture does him no justice...