Fair is Foul and Foul is Fair

it would be nice to die in Venice

I don't know when each day ends. I only know that there are spaces of time that are blank. In between, after I have taken a last look at Isis, I lay me down and have hallucinations and travel to wonderful places and play with mythical creatures in a land where gravity doesn't exist. Then I wake up and I have to strain myself until I hear the relieving sound of my spine crunch, and then it's off to the shower to start things over again and hopefully not forget my vitamins.

enjoy it while it lasts

I want to move away soon to somewhere new, so that I can stop being used to everything I'd rather not be. I thank God the snow has melted and I am getting a taste of fall or spring or novelty in January, but part of me wants it to be next year already, just to see what happens. My friends are talking of moving away but also of how many problems that issue presents and how many decisions they'll have to make in the before then. I wish them the best but think nothing of their plans because I can be a pessimist and it's as if no one ever gets away.

overlooking something that's staring you in the face?

If I were to make it out or if I were to live I would probably live on my own unless I had a good deal and there were very rigid rules for the safe shelter I would call my abode. I want to live a calm collected life. I want to be normal. I wouldn't even mind being boring if I could survive and had someone to talk to every few days.

what it is really, or at least what it seems like

Right now I admit, I am frustrated. I am dealing with the little things that although they are just details seem to make everything impossible and inconcieveable. It's how to get from point A to point B when Searle's Chinese Box is in between the two and the person inside the box has no special interest in my demands over anything else they are presented with.

spirituality is one answer. which kind of problem were you looking for?

And which stage am I at today? Have I lost faith in God or do I have even more because I am that desperate for help? Veda, once you renounce materiality, how much do you engage your senses, and what are the bare necessities of life? Am I that wishful? Can anyone save me from my own free will? Can anyone save me from my memories?

a lobotomy.

I am anxious to hear back from unpaid job opportunities so that I can fulfill the requirements of my program and still graduate. I am really feeling more reinforced in the skepticism I had last semester of trusting these placements in the hands of our program directors. Even though it helps not a hair, there is something gratifying about being right about your own doom.

if you would just shut up, stop being so dramatic and take it like a man

But I have made my way alright on my own front. I'm working my two jobs on campus. Now I am a regularity there. I wonder if my face could be any more familiar. I wonder how many times I've borrowed tape off the librarian so that I can put up my posters to promote whichever job fair there is that I can never go to to find a job because I have classes despite being someone who really needs one. I'm getting so broke! The librarian is such a nice old lady who always smiles at me and the wrinkles in her eyes look so pronounced through her thick glasses. I wonder if she secretly wants to stab me with the scissors.

as long as no one gets hurt

I start a new job this week working for less than minimum wage for a charity for retarded kids in hopes that it will make me a few more bucks, give me more sales experience and possibly do some good. Funny how the jobs you apply for sometimes end up being different jobs. One is advertised in the paper, but it's only by calling the number that you're referred to a completely separate mission. Curiousity always gets me. The man that came to explain the canvasing position as it turned out to be (not the $20/hr sales position) was a nice chap who took my picture with a Mickey Mouse camera so that I could have a proper identification card. He explained that he's been doing this for five years and it gives him something to do now that his wife passed away over thirty years ago. He stayed in his car because he was attacked by a dog once and almost didn't survive. He explained this to me as my dog barked at him on the other side of the door.

that one is your left hand. keep track of it.

The good news is that James is alive! I didn't think I'd hear about them again, and as time passed, I thought things were either for the worse, or not bad enough. I thought the paper trail might die off. I thought: oh apparently disappointment isn't a news construct.

writers need fun too

I am jamming twice a week with my band and we are hopeful that we can play a show in March. We only had to wait in our cars watching the rain fall on the windshield as Frenchman amused himself with Suduko for two hours yesterday until one of the other band member, Skull, who has the key to the jam-hall found his way out of Hamilton, where there are several one-way streets with identical names from which you can never escape.

it's all ok though, at least once it's over

I struggle to keep my mind active and my hand warm and welcoming each day. I tell myself 2896 times that things will be ok. I've recently been thinking of someone who doesn't matter at all, but who nonetheless takes up a lot of space in my mind. As I said, curiosity always gets me. This weekend I'm performing in a church for my sister's benefit concert playing Rufus Wainwright's "Vibrate". She is raising money for an orphanage which she is going away to in Benin, Africa this summer.

you didn't tell me you were good at something

I handed in my donor report today and it looked really lovely after I printed it with my new Canon colour printer. I binded it for free in our school's office and got it in right on time. It had pictures and financial details and visions and promises and appreciation gushing from our fake CEO. Then we had a quiz on journalistic codes of ethics and I passed with flying colours but I still didn't get perfect. I felt in moral turmoil trying to decide some of the cases. There was a lot of gray area. The one question wasn't exactly like this, but pretty close:

You are a PR manager of a flower company who recently launched an event to raise money for breast cancer. A reporter does an excellent job covering the event. When it is over you send her a bouquet of flowers and a thank you card. Does this violate the journalist's code of ethics? Yes or no? As we answered in class: Fair or Foul?

look for beauty and intelligence from without

I know some of you are journalists so hopefully you're aware of these rules. Some of you are naughty, but that's ok as long as you know the journalist's ethics. Not that anyone follows them, especially mainstream media, because they are VOLUNTARY (and the world is corrupt).

However, I want to see if you can answer the above question according to the code. I know the answer that my teacher gave me, but I got this question wrong. I will give out rewards and do a hokey pokey dance every time someone gets it right.