Month: October 2008

in the same boat

Jordan Neufeld, Ben’s brother responsible for Sticks and Stones, is having an Emergency “Help-Me-Pay-My-Rent-a-Thon”.

To recap: he’s off work on Stress Leave and the insurance company compensation has yet to arrive, so he and his partner Jessica have been living tenuously on her student loan in the meantime, but it doesn’t look like they’re going to have enough money to cover their bills at the end of the month.

How You Can Help:

Pre-order his book the Complete Sticks and Stones Collection 2005-2007, for $12.00 a piece, plus shipping.

“That’s over 200 comic strips packed into a little paperback book. Read a sample of the book here.”


Donate to the Sticks and Stone Hallowe’en Special Marathon!

“… a page of my Sticks and Stones Halloween Special every three hours. It’s going to be full color, so this will be interesting… It will probably take 3-4 days to do 24 pages. I’m planning on sleeping at night for a few hours here and there, but it really will be a marathon. Buy enough books, and you or your comic character could get a cameo.” Start at page one.

.. and Pass It On.

step taken

Scientists record ‘music’ from stars.

It’s done! It’s done, it’s done, it’s done! Karen only has a few things left to pick-up, we only have a queen-size mattress to somehow move, and that’s it. That’s it! Even Remi’s found a place to live for November. Tra-la-lee-lah-lay-dah-lee. It’ll be all wrapped up by the weekend. There is, of course, furniture to be shuffled around, boxes that need unpacking, clothes that need to find homes in drawers, but it’s all, finally, in one place, with no obstructions.

We sat on the floor last night in a puddle of clear space, mutually exhausted, (something I think everyone does when they move into a new home), somehow stunned, waiting for the soup to be ready, surrounded by boxes and upended furniture. Swamped by our day, he looked so tired I had to grin. “Welcome to the house,” I said, “Officially like.”

Already we’ve shoved the futon in her room and lined the walls with bookshelves, which opened up space, and the bones of our new home are starting to show. David has a job interview with Raincoast books today, so I don’t know how much he’ll get done while I’m at work, but whatever. It’s starting, and that’s positive enough. Plus, rock on Raincoast. Rock on.

Video: the secret lives of invisible magnetic fields.

only vincent price could say it with a straight face

Stephen Fry’s most excellent Twitter.

Today’s the day Karen‘s moving out. I adore her to pieces, she’s clever, fun and urban planner silly, but I’m terribly glad. I think she’s going to be much happier living by Main St, and I know that I’ll be much happier when my apartment isn’t stacked to the ceiling with boxes. Once her room is empty, we can move the double-stacked bookshelves in from the dining area, as well as the fourty boxes of books, move the futon in there too, and get a bit of much needed elbow room. Thankfully, today’s also the day where Ray and Nicole and David and I try to haul the rest of his things over, (except the Queen size bed, which we’ve put for emergency sale on Craigslist for as ridiculously cheap as my conscience would let me), finishing forever with the tiny purple room where he’s been keeping his stuff. He will be officially Moved In, with no more popping back to Arbutus for another change of clothes.

With that, I’ll finally be able to relax a bit, too, as David will take over a batch of the organizing and unpacking. When there’s space in the house to move, I won’t feel that every minute needs to be spent working to make it livable. (I almost cried, the other day, overwhelmed by how much needs to get done.) I can put that task aside and work on what matters more to my spirit and spend some time catching up on more virtual things, like processing my way through the vast collection of photos that I’ve been taking since Kyle generously sent me his spare. It’s been prickling under my skin that I haven’t even had enough time to make sure that I’ve got all our trip pictures off David’s laptop, let alone take a look at them. Prickling with great prickliness.

Past that, not a lot’s been going on. There hasn’t been time for anything else. We’re still sorting out what we’re doing this weekend for Hallowe’en, trying to figure out if we can even pretend to afford to go down to Seattle, while our finances are smeared like jet lag over too many bills. I have en eerie premonition that we might not even make it to local house-parties for a spooky lack of bus-fare. Vuullnaaavia! We neeeed youuuu! Oh, for a beautiful and silent clockwork assistant to help us in our time of woe. “Where can we find two better hemispheres, without sharp north, without declining west? My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, and true plain hearts do in thee faces rest. Within twenty-four hours, my work will be finished, and then, my precious jewel, I will join you in your setting. We shall be reunited forever in a secluded corner of the great elysian field of the beautiful beyond! ”

Diamanda Galas plays Vancouver Nov 29.

p.s. My spam is more refined than your spam. The latest subject line: “Lists for specialties such as: medical geneticists, neurological surgeons,psychiatrists and much more‏”.

thos wacky airship kids, whatever will they think of next

So this fellow I know, Robert, has this goth band, right, called Abney Park, and they dress up in distressed leather and wear goggles and pretty much represent all sorts of things that are good about Steampunk. Now, and this is where it gets good, Robert has done so well with this niche of a band that they were hired as the entertainment on the maiden voyage of the new commercial Zeppelin that is about to be launched in San Fransisco. All of this is very cool, very net chic, and very, very fun, but my favourite part of this particular gig so far, (as he tells me this is not the best thing, “not just yet, but I have a plan.”) is from the SF Chronicle article:

Please note, as well, that in the article, they describe Steampunk as “Jules Verne meets the Victorian Age”! Memory refresher: Jules Verne, 1828 – 1905. Victorian Age, 1837 – 1901.

file under: only in october

Video: Inside the LEGO factory.

One of the benefits of having David move in is better access to his obsessive movie collection. One of the downsides of this is some of what’s in his obsessive movie collection. (Which he put on the shelf in alphabetical order.) (Before you think I am ragging too much, I would like to point out that I have enough of my own OCD that I had to rearrange his DVD collection because he put it on the bookshelf wrong. I don’t care if it’s alphabetical, though I’ll smirk a bit and wave my hands around and mock him as any good girl should, but, no matter what order, They Should Be Stacked, it saves space. Argh, bargle, why oh why do I even care? Etcetera. Yes, it’s silly, but you’re not the one living with me, so whatever. Keep reading.)

Anyway. To begin our dirty exploration into his amazing collection of occasionally questionable cinema, we sat down last night and watched Neil Marshall’s Werewolf movie, Dog Soldiers with Remi, Karen’s very nice secondary, who’s been staying with us the last little while, and let me tell you now, it was Not Good. Initial Sex Scene Where Everyone Is Eaten! Gratuitous Dog Killing To Prove Bad-Assery! (Equilibrium, anyone?) Completely Obvious Betrayals Hinged Upon Even More Obvious Plot Twists!

It was, however, completely and utterly everything you might want out of a Werewolves VS. Soldier-boys movie. Neil Marshall brings a fan-boy’s love of the genre in a similar, though not quite as amazing, way his Doomsday did for Mad Max.* (I’m still not going to watch Descent anytime soon, though). The monsters were not CG, the improbable foreshadowing remained improbable, (there was no explanatory SCIENCE!!), everyone bonds through bantering which Does Not Suck, and there was satisfactory slavering, a fun death by tree-branch, lots of splattering blood, and an incredible moment of Cow From Above. There were moments where it dragged, mostly near the end where they ran out of people to slaughter, (but remember it’s spelled with laughter), and the remaining characters had to get all sensitive yet manly, but even so, it seemed pretty perfect for Hallowe’en. A solid four cheesy pumpkins out of five.

*if you haven’t seen Doomsday, you sincerely need to get right on that.

artpost: people I will always appreciate

via karen meisner of strange horizons:

Tilda Swinton, from her second State of Cinema address, San Francisco, 2006:

Can I be alone in my longing for inarticulacy – for a cinema that refuses to join all the dots? For an a-rhythm in gesture, for a dissonance in shape? For the context of a cinematic frame, a frame that – in the end – only cinema can provide. For the full view, the long shot, the space between… the gaps… the pause… the lull… the grace of living…

The figurative cinema’s awkward and rather unsavoury relationship with its fruity old aunt, the theatre, to her vanities, her nous, her beautifully constructed and perennially eloquent speechifying, her cast iron – corset-like – structures, her melo-dramatic texture and her histrionic rhythms. How tiresome it is, it always has been. How studied. The idea of absolute articulacy, perfect timing, a vapid elegance of gesture, an unblinking, unthinking face. What a blessed waste of a good clear screen, a dark room and the possibility of an unwatched profile, a tree, a hill, a donkey…

How I long for documentary, in resistance – for unpowdered faces and unmeasured tread – for the emotionally undemonstrative family scene – for a struggle for unreachable words, for the open or even unhappy ending? The occasionally dropped shoe off the heel, the jiggle to readjust; the occasionally cracked egg; the mess of milk spilt. The concept of a loss for words. For a State of Cinema – as the state of grace that it affords us – in which nothing much happens but all things are possible, even inarticulacy, even failure, even mess…


tilda swinton painted by (her partner) john byrne

looking for an upgrade from houseparty

What’s your Hallowe’en plans this year?

A lot of people here are talking about hitting up SinCity and Sanctuary, but when it comes to those two nights, I’m just done. Isn’t there anything else going on? I want dancing and fire breathing and circus acts and acrobats and fun, you know? Not mostly naked people in scanty costumes molesting each other in a drowning sea of goth. It’s okay sometimes, but not every year.

David and I are thinking we might pop down to Seattle to go to Angel’s party, (which I’d really like to attend), but it’s only one night, so unless we find something else too, we’d be stranded for the rest of the weekend. (Everyone else I know down there is going to Freaknight, the Crystal Method/Moby/Paul Van Dyk all nighter). Plus, of course, with David unemployed, we’re especially, painfully broke. We’ve got fifty dollars to live on until my next pay-cheque, and since I’m covering next month’s rent solo, it’s lucky we like lentils.

some known attendees: andrew, sara, me, david, mike levens, mike elliott, beth, ed, ryan


Amanda Palmer
Amanda Palmer and Zoë Keating play Vancouver

Wednesday, Dec 10
8:00pm – 11:30pm
Richards On Richards
(1036 Richards Street)
Tickets available through Ticketmaster and Zulu Records for $12 +tax.



Zoë Keating

In San Fran, no less.

As some of you aware, there’s a initiative measure on the 2008 California General Election ballot titled Eliminates Right of Same-Sex Couples to Marry. It’s called Proposition 8, and it’s the most unfair and hate-filled bit of judicial intolerance I’ve heard of in awhile. As far as I can tell, it’s another example of the last desperate gasp of people who don’t like change, who want time to flow backward, and the world’s progressive trends on equality to hit hard into reverse. No less than the mayor of L.A. and the California Teachers Association and California School Boards Association have donated money to fight it – http://www.NoOnProp8.com

The following video was taken by my friend, musician and writer Meredith Yayanos, who encountered a group of Pro-Prop 8 protesters in Oakland, California. She turned on her camera-phone when the protesters began to assault a counter-protester, a quiet, polite, calm man with an anti Prop-8 sign, as is his right. Unfortunately, that’s when they turned on her.

“Something to keep in mind: when I hit the record button, I hadn’t said a single word to anyone, or interfered in the rally any way. I stood a fair distance away from all of the sign-wavers (remaining at least four feet away from all of them…until they approached me). But as soon as they noticed me filming them, I was greeted with curses and threats of violence. “Get that shit out of here. I’ll knock it out of your hand.” None of these folks knew me, yet they instantly knew they hated me …”

Which soon became, “That’s when she attacked, clawing, grabbing and then shoving. I didn’t fight back; she was much bigger than me.”

I think it’s very important that you press play, read the entirety of her story, which is posted here in her journal, and pass it on.