Brush with Power...

When I was a horny university student (more than a DECADE ago; my how time flies!) I lived in the Place Vanier residence at UBC in Vancouver. In the summers I was trying to get relevant experience (ie office slave work) and kept running up against the "extracurricular activities" trap in interviews.

I don't know about the University students you know or knew, but the majority of my extra-curricular activities consisted of getting drunk and trying to get some attractive young lady I didn't know (or did, depending on how much whiskey was in my system) to retire to my boudoir for an evening of slap and tickle... Sometimes this clumsy approach even worked! Most times it didn't and resulted more in just SLAP!

This did not qualify as "extra-curricular activity" in the eyes of job recruiters. So I figured I'd need some "student politics" to pad my resume...I wanted a position that wouldn't require any actual work mind you...something that had the potential for a bit of fun... so I stood for House President at the end of my second year and was elected so that in my third year I had control of the house party funds and the house VCR for my third year. My neighbour across the hall also had the largest collection of Star Trek tapes I had ever seen, so my grades dropped accordingly.

So what did this mean? I had to attend a weekly meeting of other House Presidents that made up the Residence Council. This council had nine other house presidents, then the Secretary, Treasurer, VP and President. The President was this guy named Liam, whose only noteable characteristic was that he looked like the lead singer of The Pogues.



OK, maybe he had better teeth, but the ears and face were the same...

I would've forgotten all this except for one incident that became known as "Jacket-gate." This was to teach me the true nature of government.

Paranoia will destroy Ya!

Why does it feel like this SARS stuff is happening somewhere else? I mean is there some weird parallel universe that we're getting our news from?

I'm sitting across the table from my co-worker Dave at lunch on Thursday. We're sitting in the Food Court, which is pretty well the only source of food within walking distance. The real weirdness of North York is that you're in prime office locations, you know the ones that make you pay for monthly parking: I wish I'd got a job in the sticks somewhere...but there's no food within walking distances like downtown or Yonge and Bloor. So this little food court with only a handful of crap fast food is basically the only game in town. I practically live on their teriyaki chicken.

If you believe the tone of the news coverage in Toronto you'd believe that everyone would be in masks and that a plague had descended upon us and that judgement was nigh, but I digress...

I see zero evidence of paranoia in the crowded food court. No masks, no weirdness.

Dave and I are both eating teriyaki chicken. We eat at about the same speed (buzzsaw!) and the food is disappearing at a good pace. We're about halfway through when Dave stops eating, gets up excusing himself, and goes to the restroom. I'm sitting there eating the rest of my food. I notice Dave in the lineup at McDonald's, while his half-eaten teriyaki chicken is on the table in front of me...

Ever get that weird feeling, that compulsion to look at the accident that's messing up the on-coming traffic? I believe the term is rubber-necking. I complain about the bastards that do it when they're in the line ahead of me, but I do it myself...Well I'm getting this feeling now: I have to know WHY Dave isn't eating his teriyaki chicken.

Capitalism at its Finest

I am on BLOGSHARES!

I am indexed but not listed for trading (YET!)

You too can soon own a piece of the Kraut! (If Pet Rocks could sell, then so can ragingkraut.com!)

Last Time on Raging Kraut...

I'm feeling another serious entry coming on...

I'm trying my best to resist. Must. Be. Light. And. Funny...

I worry that I'm tapped out of subject matter. That the effin' war will take up the majority of the electrical impulses left between the dozen or so brain cells that are still firing in the hollowed-out cavity in the top of my skull.

I'm getting pissed off at the war coverage:

It's Private Lynch - not "Jessica" or "Jessie" or "'lil Jessie." She's not a lost little puppy who's been found: she's a soldier that has done her duty well - not well 'for a girl.' Am I the only damned feminist? Oh and she wants to be a kindergarten teacher. Very nice, but what does that have to do with anything?

Buzzphrases - how many times have the words "shock and awe" been rammed down our throats? Hell, they've even got me titling one of my entries "shock and awe"

The war coverage is so inept that they're resorting to covering the antics of their own reporters

Are we winning, are we losing? I dunno, and the TV can't tell me. I'm pretty well damn impressed considering that in less than a month the U.S. is getting close to Baghdad...But if I listened to some of the news commentary the U.S. should just give up and hand Saddam the keys to their cities. Oh, wait. Detroit's already done that...Well there's a lot about the 80's we'd like to forget.

I feel like the Grinch at Christmas (before the end of the story when they pussified him): "All the noise, the noise, the noise!"

Ahhhh, Christmas: only 265 more days to go!

Victory is mine!

I have defeated the mighty Michele from A Small Victory (it must have just been luck. I'm pretty sure she would make me pay in real life!)

Puny mortals! Mess with me if you dare!

Ray is a Purple People-Eating Magic Monkey ...with a Battle Rating of 9.1 To see if your Food-Eating Battle Monkey can defeat Ray, enter your name:

Spoilers

NOTE: IN THIS ARTICLE I'M GOING TO SPOIL THE ENDINGS OF THE FOLLOWING MOVIES - PRESUMED INNOCENT, CITIZEN KANE. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THESE MOVIES AND DON'T WANT TO SPOIL THE ENDINGS DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

My first room-mate after University was a guy named Dom, whom I'd been friends with for two years before we found a place (with his sorta-girlfriend/foul temptress Mel, but that's another story...)

Dom and I worked opposite shifts: I had a nine-to-five day job and Dom would work as a waiter (ie. nights, weekends etc.) so a lot of times we were home at different hours and would watch different TV shows, but one of the ones we could definitely agree on was Kids in the Hall.



It usually wound up that Dom and I would watch Kids in the Hall on CBC on Thursday at 8pm. This was the original run of the show so we'd be waiting all week for the next one to air. One Thursday I was out drinking and asked him to tape the episode for me...

I came home quite inebriated and found Dom chain-smoking and drinking a ton of coffee, typical Dom behaviour...

He hadn't taped Kids in the Hall. GRRRRR!
He proceeded to tell me about the skits GRRRRR!

DON'T CLICK IF YOU DON'T WANT THE MOVIES SPOILED:

Too Much Three's Company as a child...

So I'm having that dream again:

I'm Jack on Three's Company and I hear noises in Janet and Chrissy's room. I creep out of bed in the dark and wander towards their room. I have a Polaroid in my hands and am expecting to get some decent instant photos.

I wait for the right moment, kick the door open, but instead of Janet and Chrissy in a naked, wet embrace I see Mr. Roper.

He's wearing black leather chaps and nothing else (Aiii, my eyes!).

"I've been waiting for you Jack. Maybe you can tell me what to do with this?"

He's holding his plunger (no, not that one, the one from the show...)

-- I awake screaming and clutching the blankets. It was only a dream. It was only a dream. It was only a dream.




Well, my friend Jen was saying that I was getting too political.

Different isn't always better

The Canadian is a baffled man because he feels different from his British kindred and his American neighbours, sharply refuses to be lumped with either of them, yet cannot make plain the difference.
-- J.B. Priestly


This is my own personal belief as to why many seek to "be different" than Americans, or at least to be perceived as different. It leads us to strange places like:

- not ejecting Iraqi diplomats to keep "communication lines open", yet having an idiot backbencher advocate ejecting the American ambassador for telling us the truth about how our actions have hurt us in the States. Scarborough-Agincourt MP Jim Karygiannis is the latest moron to open his mouth: but he's not alone...

- Carolyn Parrish, the central Mississauga MP who touched off a firestorm by saying "Damn Americans, I hate those bastards", can't stop her WHINING. Yes, Carolyn it's all a "MEDIA CONSPIRACY" to discredit you and your destroy your incredible career as Minister of Foot-in-Mouth...I'm soooooooo happy I don't live in your riding...

The desire to distinguish ourselves as "not American" or "not British" used to force us from one to the other, siding as often as not with one against the other throughout Canada's history. Now the Liberal government has turned its back on both America and Britain simultaneously: an astounding trick!

If there was any benefit to doing this now I'd like someone to explain it. Please? How does this help us, especially since the U.S. takes in 84% of ALL Canadian exports..

Quotes

Time for a few quotes that have bearing on Canada's situation vis-a-vis (OOOO how pretentious a word!) the U.S. of A...


"Canadians have been so busy explaining to the Americans that we aren't British, and to the British that we aren't Americans that we haven't had time to become Canadians."
-- Helen Gordon McPherson

The beaver, which has come to represent Canada as the eagle does the United States and the lion Britain, is a flat-tailed, slow-witted, toothy rodent known to bite off it's own testicles or to stand under its own falling trees.
-- June Callwood

Americans are benevolently ignorant about Canada, while Canadians are malevolently well-informed about the United States.
-- J. Bartlett Brebner (1895 - 1957) professor of history, Columbia University

In politics, stupidity is not a handicap.
-- Napoleon Bonaparte

Last one I promise...