Day: December 8, 2004

Alrighty – I have just patched my brain in, beam me the hell up – I have just discovered that I scooped CNN News with a link that I’ve been tossing around to people tonight.

Someone posted with this link, which helped to find this link. The event happened at 10pm, Ohio time, and we’ve been posting it before 11pm pacific.

Basically, at a concert in Columbus, featuring Damageplan (a metal act featuring former members of Pantera), an unnamed man jumped on stage and began firing what witnesses describe as an extended series of shots at various members of the band. Former Pantera and current Damageplan guitarist Dimebag Darrel was shot and killed. At least two others (and possibly as many as four) are reported dead; conflicting reports state that former Pantera and current Damageplan drummer Vinnie Paul is also among the killed, but it seems that he’s only wounded.

THURSDAY the 16th at 8 pm Andrea Papineau and Damon Morris bring us this month’s installment of THE SOUND AND THE WORD at the Misanthropy Gallery (http://www.misanthropygallery.com/, 440 W. Pender up the back stairs), featuring SHANE KOYCZAN (the word), C.R. AVERY (the sound), and more guests.

EDIT: the date was posted wrong – I’m actually ging to be at a friends fetish show, but hey! This is the best alternative to that that I can think of. so go anyways.

I recommend you do the same if you live in Vancouver. Misanthropy is turning into a nice place to visit and the people at such affairs are only short of having the word wonderful for blood.

and for today, from Mike, because Pearl Harbour should be remembered and for the veterans I thanked who thanked me back, here is WWII according to Hollywood:

and for those interested in vintage fashion

It’s been a long day, starting into action as soon as I opened my eyes and streaming onward until now, when I finally have a pause. Kyle was over first thing, calling from a block away just as I was to step into the shower. Dominique temporarily joined us minutes after his arrival, but we parted ways at the bus-stop as Kyle had a package to pick up at Metrotown. The service at the shop was poor and sloppy due to an unfortunate choice by the management to choose hipster looks over practical ability. We were left waiting for hours, surrounded by shoppers and christmas coated consumerism. Our eyes died, breathing false light for too many hours. Nicole came and joined us, stepping in with suggestions and acerbic wit. We left in time to see a shoplifter escape, running faster than the security women in their ill-chosen clunky heels and tight black suits.

Tonight there’s tree trimming at Alicia’s place and I’m trying to talk myself into going back out into the cold. I called my mother back, always a lengthy process, and the time on my bus transfer ran out. I have laundry I should do, though I could always do it on the weekend, and my room needs another hour of tidy. I’m vacillating. It would be good for me to go out, but I’m fighting against rather a lot of training that says I shouldn’t.

The police outside my building aren’t helping.