More mangling

Hey!

On the verge of the new year, here's another deranged erasure poem. Enjoy!

 

**

 

"What? Who?"

 

What child

                                                            is sleeping?

            Angels?                                   Sweet.

            ) her                 at                     peek (

This                 is                     the

                        guard               and

Ha ha,

                                                            Mary

Not really the spirit

 I call this a deranged erasure poem.

**

 

"Em em em"

O

                         captive

mourn in lonely exile

until ——

 

 

                                                Free

thine own                   

                                    people:

            give them victory

 

 

                                                Cheer

our spirits:

disperse the gloom

            and dark shadows

shall come

 

 

Make safe

                        the path to misery

 

 

                                                Might

thy

                        times

                                                awe

                        thee

 

 

Forty years later

 

People of a certain age remember the moment they heard President Kennedy had been assassinated or where they were as they watched the moon landing. People from a younger generation remember learning that Kurt Cobain was dead or that Princess Diana's car had been involved in a fatal accident in Paris.

I remember the night John Lennon was murdered. For me, that was the day the music died.

I'm not a huge Beatles fan, and I'm aware that John Lennon had his own demons (you may recall, wincing, that one of my favourite Beatles songs is "Run for Your Life"). Obviously I never met the man. But I mark December 8 this year, and every year, to mourn someone who added to the net joy in the world. To mourn that that mission was intentionally cut short by a deranged mind. To mourn someone who in some ways inspires me every day.

Today I am grateful that the world contained a John Lennon for even the short time it did. And I commit again to my personal mission to be a force for peace and good. Even in the darkest times. Music represents my rage against the darkness.

There is always light if we turn our eyes to it. Shine on, John. Shine bright.

 

Got yer nose

Hey, folks. So here we are nine months into a pandemic, and at present the numbers and the trend are not good. Particularly when I live in a city with a mask mandate (as well as periodic reminders to maintain physical distance and wash hands regularly). 

After a few events of being out in public more than usual, I must issue this following warning.

Wear your mask. That means cover both your mouth and your nose.

Because today I am putting it out there. If I see your nose poking out uglily from the top of your mask and you're doing nothing about it ...

I might flick your nose!

That's it. Back to the advent countdown.

Hallowe'en roundup

 Howdy!

It's November and also Fall Reading Break at MacEwan. I'm making slow, cautious progress on various projects.

In the meantime, this is a post to record that we had 78 kids at our door for Hallowe'en. More than most people expected, and it was delightful to see people dressed up and smiling. Here are the communopoly pumpkins:

And best of all, there's still leftover candy to munch on.

Here's to getting through November.

L

Thursday, six weeks later

 

This pandemic takes its toll, it does.

 Meanwhile, apparently my burlesque name is Le Le la Cookie. So there is that...

Halfway check in

Greetings! For those celebrating, Happy Canada Day!

Today my iTunes records that I have 4,460 (out of 17,552) tracks unplayed. So I guess the lockdown has been good for something.

My reading isn't quite as advanced as my listening, but I've been enjoying lots of poetry lately. Also Miss Fisher mysteries (they were novels first!).

Wishing you happiness today and always. Today is a great day for practising gratitude.

This space left intentionally blank

In shock. Moments ago I learned my graduate supervisor and friend Dr Jerry Kachur died a few hours ago. What the actual.



Another reason 2020 can shove off now.

Listing slightly

Hello! Welcome to May. Much like April, but with more sunlight.

List-based challenges are popular right now, and most of them are uninteresting to me. Then someone started the “30-Day Song Challenge” on Twitter, and that felt like something I could pursue. So here goes ...

A song you like with a colour in the title: “Purple Rain” by Prince and “Bitterblue” by Cat Stevens

A song you like with a number in the title: “17 Days” by Prince

A song that reminds you of summertime: “Summer in the City” by the Lovin’ Spoonful

A song that reminds you of someone you’d rather forget: “Babe” by Styx

A song that needs to be played loud: “Girl Anachronism” by Dresden Dolls

A song that makes you want to dance: “Dance Apocalyptic” by Janelle Monae

A song to drive to: “Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas

A song about drugs or alcohol: “Burn It to the Ground” by Nickelback

A song that makes you happy: “Burning Bridge” by Kate Bush

A song that makes you sad: “And So Is Love” by Kate Bush and “Hey Jupiter” by Tori Amos and “Empty Garden” by Elton John and ...

A song you never get tired of: “You’re My Best Friend” by Queen”

A song from your preteen years: “Mickey” by Toni Basil

A song you like from the 70s: “Whenever I Call You Friend” by Kenny Loggins with Stevie Nicks

A song you’d love to be played at your wedding: n/a

A song you like that’s a cover: “Hush” by Deep Purple

A song that’s a classic favourite: “Hey Jude” by the Beatles

A song you’d sing a duet with someone on karaoke: n/a

A song from the year you were born: “Hair” by the Cowsills and “These Eyes” by the Guess Who

A song that makes you think about life: “Suspended in Gaffa” by Kate Bush

A song that has many meanings to you: “Mad World” by Tears for Fears

A song you like with a person’s name in the title: “Marlene on the Wall” by Suzanne Vega

A song that moves you forward: “Never” by Heart

A song you think everybody should listen to: “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel

A song by a band you wish were still together: “This Wheel’s on Fire” by Siouxsie and the Banshees

A song you like by an artist no longer living: “I Got a Name” by Jim Croce

A song that makes you want to fall in love: “Sweet Dreams” by Air Supply

A song that breaks your heart: “Every Time I See Your Picture” by Luba

A song by an artist whose voice you love: “Blue Moon with Heartache” by Rosanne Cash

A song you remember from your childhood: “I’s the B’y”

A song that reminds you of yourself: “Music” by Cat Stevens

What you see here is one version of the challenge. In a different month, I would likely choose different songs. This version seems a little 80s heavy. I do like that many songs could fit into multiple categories.

What would your 30-Day Song Challenge include?

Not long gone

Grades are due in a week and I'm struggling to get out of bed on any given morning, so what better time to start scanning some old old old scrapbook material? Exactly.

I found the image below in a folder of pages torn out from magazines in the early 1980s — magazines like 16 and Tiger Beat and People. This particular page is from Creem — remember that? Well.

I was trying to imagine where a page like this would be published in 2020. Surely we live in a kinder, less sexist time now. (Seriously! Read those image captions.) But B says no.

Anyway. Whether we're more enlightened or not now, this is an interesting artifact. Maybe I'll post some others. What's turned out to be most amusing about this project is not the pages I saved but their versos — all the ads from the 80s, prices, products, images, styles ... So. Much. Visual. Culture. And I have the soundtrack to support it.

Laters!

No fooling

Good morning!

The sun is rising gloriously despite an air temperature of minus twenty, so the world does in fact continue to turn. We will get through this together — although it is a kind of togetherness apart.

Anyway. You might have been waiting breathlessly to know how my music library was faring at the end of the first quarter of this bizarre year. Well, the bizarreness of the year has played to my advantage: I have listened to nearly half the tracks in my iTunes library so far. At midnight on 31 March, 9,861 tracks were unplayed (of 17,465). Listening to music for twelve hours a day means we go through a lot of tracks quickly.

Of course, some of those tracks have been played repeatedly, too, and the music in my Top 25 would surprise no one who has been paying attention over the years. Though maybe the lack of bus commuting and bicycling will eventually change that, too.

Back to your daily day now. And as John Irving urges us, keep passing the open windows.

Like forty years ago

Hello again,

Still procrastinating. Here's a photo from the very late 1970s, taken in my grandmother's kitchen in St. Albert.

I honestly wonder whether photos from the 1960s and 1970s (and later, I suppose) degrade with age. Or is it simply that my parents were truly terrible photo-takers? This photo lived on my mother's bulletin board in her kitchen for years.

Photographs are taking on an increasingly important place in my life as my memories became fainter and are overwritten by memories of memories and conversations about memories. In this image I can refresh my sense of that house, that era — details that feel scarce after so much time.

Marching forward

Hello again!

Just a quick update re stats because ... well, why not? And I'm procrastinating rather than proofreading.

Thanks to the extra day in February, I listened to a few dozen more songs yesterday and can now report that I have listened to almost one-third of the tracks in my iTunes library. So far I've played through about 5,150 songs. Of those, more than 500 have been played more than once. So, once again, statistically speaking, I am on the path to listening to all of my iTunes library before December. And yet history shows it's unlikely that will happen.

Anyway. The sun is returning and the sky is blue, so let us rejoice while we may.

Theatre Unseen

Hello!

Last Friday night B and I went to see The Invisible, a play presented by Catalyst Theatre. It is a dramatization of untold stories about women saboteurs in World War Two — as a musical. Here's the set (we had excellent seats!):

I enjoyed this play. Heroism in World War Two tends to be masculinized; representations of women who fought back against the Nazis are exceeding rare. The story is serious but is told with light and localized touches, which made the play feel highly topical. I would see it again and would definitely recommend it to anyone interested in women, the agents of ungentlemanly warfare, or musical theatre — but it closed in Edmonton last weekend.  Still, a lovely night out!

(And if this play's not for you, perhaps consider As You Like It, which is running on the Citadel's main stage right now...)

Knew you were waiting

So, it's February and we've been through Groundhog's Day and the Superb Owl (lol) already. Whoops.

Well, without further delay, here's the information you've been waiting for: by the end of the January, I had played more than 2,800 songs in iTunes, putting me handily on the way toward listening to all my iTunes tracks by the end of the year. And yet somehow I suspect I won't. (I also added a few dozen songs to my library in January. Eeeks!)

My most-played track in January was "Know Your Rights" by the Clash. As they say, it's never too late to have a happy childhood. 

And incidentally, the duet I reference in the title of today's post is a sweet one. Go listen to it now!

Laters!

With Renewed Clarity: 2019 in Review

Happy New Year! I hope that your final day of 2019 was bright and that you’re looking forward to a better year starting today. I know I am.

And now, without further ado, my annual review of books and music.

The Textual World

Without question, 2019 was the worst year I’ve had in reading since I’ve been keeping track — and possibly ever. If it were not for reading children’s novels for academic purposes, I doubt I would even have cracked one hundred books. As it is, my total is dismal: 116. Here’s the breakdown:

Books by women: 78

Books by men: 35

Mixed/Unstated: 3

For the first four months of the year, most of what I read was middle-grade or YA, in support of the seminar I was teaching. No seminar this term, and the publication I’ve been reviewing for since 2013 has shuttered, so who knows what I’ll read this year.

I read limited poetry but absolutely loved Kath MacLean’s Translating Air and Emilia Danielewska’s Paper Caskets. I continued to read anything John Scalzi published, and through his endorsement read Mary-Robinette Kowal’s Calculating Stars works — immensely satisfying SFF. I stumbled on a quirky cozy mystery series by Leigh Perry: preposterous in its premise, but spot on in its details about the life of contract faculty. The most unusual book I read was Bibliophile by Jane Mount, a book about loving books, embellished by art representing book spines. If you’re a bibliophile, it’s sure to speak to you.

Sadly, my own book was not printed in 2019 but should be available in the first quarter of 2020. Fingers crossed!

The Aural World

Well. After a second year of intentionally listening to music as albums rather than as singles, I can see some changes in my listening habits. All the dance classes I’m taking are also affecting what I listen to — as are sessions on the bike. But comfort listening still dominates my list. Unsurprising, given the year that was — and, more granularly, given my ongoing experience of bus commuting. Here are my top tracks:

“Not About You” - Haiku Hands

“Dance Apocalyptic” - Janelle Monáe

“Golubka” - Vopli Vidopliassova with Amarilyo

“Sueltala” - Jorge Luis Chacin

“You’re My Best Friend” - Queen

“Whenever, Wherever” - Shakira

“Wash and Set” - Leikeli47

“Burning Bridge” - Kate Bush

“I’m So Excited” - Pointer Sisters

“Voicemail for Jill” - Amanda Palmer

“Hot-n-Fun” - N.E.R.D (feat. Nelly Furtado)

“Take a Chance on Me” - ABBA

“Brand New Lover” - Dead or Alive [single edit]

“Sarah” - Sarah Slean

“Summer Night City” - ABBA

“Long Train Runnin’” - The Doobie Brothers

“An Everlasting Love” - Andy Gibb

“Hungry Like the Wolf” - Duran Duran

“Come Alive (War of the Roses)” - Janelle Monáe

“Dreams” - Brandi Carlile

“Samson” - Regina Spektor

“Sky Full of Song” - Florence and the Machine

“Salsa Caliente” - Grupo Bip

“Sweet Dreams” - Air Supply [album edit]

“Moderation” - Florence and the Machine

“Venus Fly” - Grimes with Janelle Monáe

“I’m Your Baby Tonight” - Whitney Houston

“Tiny Thing” - Jenson Interceptor

“Let Go the Line” - Max Webster

“Con Calma” - Daddy Yankee feat. Snow

Two shoutouts here: the glorious Janelle Monáe and the incomparable Amanda Palmer. You may recall that my birthday present last year was a pair of tickets to see AFP in concert while I was in Vancouver for Congress. I went with my research assistant and friend, Rebecca; it was a staggeringly impressive concert. I discovered Janelle Monáe in a more roundabout way but quickly embraced her — I played the Dirty Computer album all the way through twenty-six times. Expect to see more from both performers on future lists.

Meanwhile, in my ongoing quest toward completeness, I managed to play about 15,000 of some 17,250 tracks in my library, including every track tagged “Holiday” (meaning the household was subjected to A LOT of Christmas music this year). Just over 1900 tracks received at least five plays.

So that’s me. What caught your ears and eyes in 2019?

Once again, I wish you a brilliant, joy-seeking new year — and new decade. And here’s to fun with math!
 

1980s Victoriana

Greetings! It's nearly time for my annual state of text consumption post, but before we get to that, here's a quick retrospectacle of me in Victoria.

1. Dallas Road/Strait of Juan de Fuca, August 1987

2. Tofino, August 1989 (with bonus sand cat!)

3. Beacon Hill Park, probably 1987

I'm looking at photos frequently lately. Maudlin? Not exactly. I prefer proactive.
More soon!

Turning around

Last night B and I went to see Revolt, She Said. Revolt Again. A play by Alice Birch, it presents a series of vignettes about the way women experience the world of emotional labour, constant sexualization, gendered violence, and shaming. It was strikingly presented by Studio Theatre at the University of Alberta.

This image was taken as the lights came down at the opening. There was no intermission. The wings are open and, as you can see, there were no curtains. The actors could be seen in the wings changing costumes between one scene and the next, and as the audience was filing in, the actors were speaking, singing, chanting, and shouting. Quite avant-garde and provocative. I loved it! (And two of the set-change songs were by Amanda Palmer/Dresden Dolls — extra fun for me!)

It was not my intention to see this play on the thirtieth anniversary of the Montreal Massacre, but there it is. A fitting tribute to a day of remembrance. I'm so glad to have seen this play, and I hope many, many more people see it, talk about it, think about it — and act on those thoughts.

Time to roll this one out

When I defended my dissertation, I included a long quotation that I eventually began to regret including because it felt excessive. After the last few days, however, I think maybe it's not so excessive after all. Here it is:

[Alberta is] the noisiest province in English-speaking Canada. It is the tempestuous — and slightly smaller — brother or sister who is not going to be hushed, thank you very much. It has money in its pockets and it's going to make its opinions heard. If it loses the money, it's probably your fault. And it will get it back, and more, and you'll probably want some when that happens. Significantly, it will share its good fortune. It is headstrong but generous, and it does care about others in the family. And remember, it will pipe up, uninvited and unrepresentative though its message may be, so take with a grain of salt its claim to represent the entire West. (Gerald Friesen, "Defining the Prairies," 22)

Exceptionalism, huh. I love my province but not its cultural ideas.

Images of a simpler time

Hello!
Canada has survived its election more or less intact. So there's that to be grateful for.

Meanwhile, here are some images of a simpler time.

The first is my grade three class photo. It's amusing how little I've changed.

The second was taken by my cousin Wendy. She took many pictures of my brother and me while she was doing a post-secondary credential in photography. I remember Wendy explaining why she preferred to take pictures of the snow after the school kids had walked, run, and played all over it.

The world was likely no more desperate then than it is now, but life through the eyes of a child was simpler. Perhaps I can hold on to some childlike gentleness today.