July 5, 2004

Oh, Canada.

I've made mention of this a few times, but to reiterate: I don't do holidays. Sorry, no interesting Monday morning post filled with drunken patriotic glee. If you're into that sort of thing, well, I don't know, get a life or something. Instead, have a joke.

Once upon a time in the Kingdom of Heaven, God went missing for six days. Eventually, Michael the archangel found him, resting on the seventh day. He inquired of God, "Where have you been?" God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, "Look Michael, look what I've made."
Archangel Michael looked puzzled and said, "What is it?" "It's a planet," replied God, "and I've put LIFE on it. I'm going to call it Earth and it's going to be a great place of balance." "Balance?" inquired Michael, still confused. God explained, pointing to different parts of Earth, "For example, Northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth while Southern Europe is going to be poor; the Middle East over there will be a hot spot. Over there I've placed a continent of white people and over there is a continent of black people," God continued, pointing to different countries. "This one will be extremely hot and arid while this one will be very cold and covered in ice."

The Archangel, impressed by Gods work, then pointed to a large land mass in the top corner and asked, "What's that one?" "Ah," said God. "That's Canada, the most glorious place on Earth. There's beautiful mountains, lakes, rivers, streams and an exquisite coast-line. The people from Canada are going to be modest, intelligent and humorous and they're going to be found travelling the world. They'll be extremely sociable, hard-working and high-achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats and carriers of peace. I'm also going to give them super-human, undefeatable ice hockey players who will be admired and feared by all who come across them." Michael gasped in wonder and admiration but then proclaimed. "What about balance, God? You said there will be BALANCE!"

God replied wisely. "Wait until you see the loud-mouth, fat redneck assholes I'm putting next to them."

Dubya can bite me.

I suppose saying that I did absolutely nothing for the holiday is hyperbolic, and far be it from me to exaggerate... Yeah. I did read the new issue of Time magazine, featuring one of my favorite people in US history: Thomas Jefferson, who was totally the coolest Founding Father. He might be considered a conservative by today's standards, but goddamnit if he isn't the coolest conservative since... since... um... that one person.

I also made plans (yet again) to see Fahrenheit 911. Plans fell through (yet again). Waa waa waa my sister is sick and I have to babysit her. Your sister can bite a stray dog, get rabies and die. Fed up and refusing to make plans for the fourth damn time, I went to see the movie by myself.

Now, I assume that everyone who wants to see the film will, and those who don't want to see the film probably don't read this blog, so I won't give opinions or reviews or anything of that nature. I liked it. You'd probably like it too.

What struck me was the odd silence as the movie ended. As the credits began to roll, and the opening riffs of "Keep On Rocking in the Free World" permeated the theatre, everyone stayed in their seats, heads still staring at the now-blank screen. I happen to love Neil Young, or at least various parts of Neil Young's career, and would have stayed regardless, but when I started to get up, it felt--odd. No one else was standing up to leave. I sat down and noticed the reverential faces on the people near me. By the time "Toxic" came over the loudspeakers and the house lights came up, there was still over fifty people sitting in the audience, myself included.

As three teenage girls with scowls on their faces stood near the entrance holding cleaning supplies, the audience and I filed out of the theatre, deader than the corniest metaphor; there was complete and utter silence as the flourescent lights of the hallways made everyone look about ten shades uglier. Spiderman 2 was ending, and that boisterous crowd merged with our funeral march. Eerie feeling, like neon green koolaid and blood oil: didn't mix too well, but would have made a cool picture.

I came home to find that Michael Moore (via his mailing list) had emailed me, thanking me for my support and listing off the ten thousand records the movie had broken and whatever. It was nice timing on his part, especially since he plugged his new blog at the email's closing, and I recently finished a short story about blogs for that hot new zine that everyone's talking about.

And so, Michael Moore, I am one of the first to link to you. Please keep that in mind as you form your sidebar links, and in case you need ideas for your next feature project, might I be so bold as to suggest gay rights?
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.