A Turn of Events & Metro Logs
It’s been awhile since my last entry, and it feels good to be using wordpress once again. To be honest, I’ve been busy. So busy in fact that I’ve begun to neglect aspects of my existence that I hold in highest regard. As always, I seem to spend my life in transit, sitting next to people who I don’t know and feel nervous around. Like many others I take the metro (subway) for 2 hours everyday.
One small benefit of long commutes is the chance to sit down and think without feeling the pressures of being unproductive. The only thing I try to produce during my commutes are cloudy thoughts and cynical critics of mass society. I try to sketch down my ideas and read them when I get home from work. More often than not they have little value, but sometimes I find the odd snippet that is funny and amusing. For example:
1. Running to catch a subway is so fucking cliché that I try to never do it. I just don’t want to be that guy on the other side of those doors who is standing there like an asshole, his greatest efforts running got him nowhere and he is now a mockery to everyone on board the metro.
2. I have a hard time understanding anyone that stills wears religious garments – it is such an explicit public declaration of faith that went out of vogue in the 17th century, I find it fascinating and terrifying at the same time. Unless they know something I don’t I’m inclined to call them crazy. Why hasn’t God told me what to wear?
I’m going to try and get back into this slowly. It’s been awhile and I would like to have a graceful entry. Now it’s time to drink some coffee and be productive.
Strange Job Interview
Well, I had a strange job interview yesterday. It was arranged with craigslist, a utility that is the best and worst way to find work. I was looking for something a little more professional than my last job, and applied to quite a few different places. When one of my contacts got back to me and suggested that I come for an interview ‘2morrow’ I knew it would be interesting.
After an epic journey into the belly of a rather seedy area of Montreal I arrived in front of their residential office. There was no business name and all the windows were covered, a promising sign. Defying my common sense I rang the door bell and was happy to see the smiling face of a young tattooed covered man. He told me to come in and make myself comfortable in front of one of the many computers. The environment was clean with lots of expensive cameras and equipment lying around. I knew before he told me that it was all used to make their ‘adult’ websites.
So I sat down and listened to him ask me questions about my computer skills. Yes, I am alright with photoshop, yes, I have a solid understanding of windows. Finally he requested that I preform a basic skill test, he pulled up a hardcore photoshop document and asked me to switch the position of some text. I quickly swapped ‘bizarre insertions!’ with ‘deep penetrations!’ and he seemed quite pleased. He then asked me to look at a photo-shoot and choose which pictures I thought were the best. It was at this moment that I started to really think about the idea of working in the porn industry. What would I tell my parents? Did I actually want to sit around and work with porn all day? Clearly the answer was no. I stopped and told him that I didn’t think this was for me. He understood, said thanks for coming out, and we went our separate ways. A strange interview.
Home at last…
This last month has been a bit of a blur. It started in Berlin, walked through Paris and ended in Montreal. I met new people every day and slept in shared accommodation with my fellow man. I was a part of the trend, you know… the one where you backpack through Europe and find yourself in a moment of intense and absolute self-realization.
I’ve had none of these moments. Mine is a story of isolation and bitterness with subtle fragrances of fleeting ambition. Meeting new people can be so draining, I exchanged stories with so many people, leaving a little piece of myself with each person I met. Now I am back in Montreal and enjoying the idea of permanence. It’s nice to have friends that you can keep.
I’ve started working with zest to create an album. It’s so much harder than it should be. Sometimes I have bouts of confidence, but in general, I find it hard to take myself serious. I often ask myself, ‘why do you feel important enough to presume that others would enjoy listening to the sounds you make.’ It’s a good question, but an attitude that successful musicians can’t take. The new Radiohead album is very nice, and it felt really good to buy it knowing that all the money would go directly to the artist.
Anyways, time for my morning routine, it’s almost 1pm. Time for sickening amounts of coffee, a glance at world news, and a bagel with cream cheese.
[Found the image below in a museum in Paris. I think it s especially creepy, and I am glad I come from a time where this sort of stuff does not make sense]
Amsterdam
Well, nothing much to say today except for the strange fact that I am writing this from the inside of the Amsterdam redlight district, enjoying the liberial laws of this great country. Marajuana, Bikes and nice beer with 24-hour shops. I want to move here…
Working Class Hero
Things are starting to settle down in Edinburgh and I am a few days closer to liberty. I have only five shifts left at my terrible job and I’ll soon depart for London. I’ve heard only bad things about London since my arrival and it will be interesting to see what it’s really like, I suspect it’s like here except much dirtier with different accents, and I would wager that the workers rights situation is even worse.
In my opinion, the United Kingdom is making a big mistake when it comes to labor policies. The UK is among the wealthiest of nations, yet the people here can still be forced to work over 50 hours a week with no extra compensation. The whole institution is ridiculous and is only going to get worse.
An interesting phenomenon is taking place here. There has been a massive influx of Polish workers, who now have the rights to work here because of the European Union. The Polish economy is not comparable with the UK’s, so many Polish people come here to find work and earn the ever-expensive British Pound. Unfortunately, the result of this circumstance has been overwhelmingly negative for everyone involved. On one hand, it seems that many British citizens have had no problem taking advantage of eager Polish workers who will work the worst jobs under the worst conditions. While this is good for the managers and owners of businesses, it is overwhelmingly negative for Polish nationals and the average citizen of the UK.
Because there are now so many Polish people working so many terrible jobs, the British government, under pressure from the business community, has become even more reluctant to adopt more strict workers rights. The result is that hardworking Polish people are being taken advantage of, and the average person in the UK has to live with the burden of having no concept of workers rights. On the whole it is a lose-lose situation. I myself have been a victim of this situation for the past three months (and I’m Canadian), and I can only hope that for the sake of the worse off, that the British government wakes up and fixes this situation by adopting more robust workers rights.
The Quest for Authenticity in the Age of Plastic
As I looked into her eyes it became clear that something was missing from her life, there, somewhere inside her body, was an empty space that had been mined of all its authenticity. Years of advertising and mass produced plastic trinkets had taken its toll; she no longer understood what it meant to be genuine. Wal-Mart, McDonalds, Suburbia, and Reality Television have a way of emptying heads and refilling them with plastic, taking away our human zest for individualism, adventure and significance.
Did you see that Britney Spears shaved her head? The Osborne’s swear a lot. Did you see who got kicked off American Idol last night? Paris Hilton is in jail again. The Hummer H2 is a huge SUV. Scary Movie 3 is so funny. Do you like my new shoes? This band’s tour has been sponsored by Honda. Wal-Mart sells DVD players for under $20 dollars. I’m going to a 5-star resort in Cancun for week. Sorry, I drink Coke not Pepsi.
What has happened here? Have we so easily succumb to the trivial whispers of the plastic life? There is more than this; there is authenticity and real feelings and events. Authenticity is not something that can be entirely bought from superficial profit seekers. It must arise from within, from a community with real people and places to go. Yet, amongst the ruins of authentic living there is a rising resistance. Some of those among us are starting to understand what they are missing.
One of the clearest examples of this can be found on those who wear vintage clothing. It is a reaction, ever so slight. It is something that cannot be fabricated overseas in China. Even Starbucks, so highly contentious, has built its image based on the authentic cafes of Milan. People want to be creative; they want freedom from the cookie cutter suburbs and the grinding sameness of corporate franchises.
I found this interesting quote yesterday, I think it may be one of my favorites:
-Walt Whitman-
I think I could turn and live with animals, they’re so placid and self contain’d, I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the earth.
End Times
I cannot help but feel some global tragedy is looming over us. This is a popular belief these days; it seems that people have come to accept that something will happen sooner or later. There is a certain excitement about it, for we all know that heroes are born during tragedy, will I be a hero, or will I be a face in the mud?
-At the movies, Sartre-
“She took my hand and held it in hers without a word. I was flooded by bitter joy and I understand, without having to look at my watch that it was eleven o’clock. From that time on we began to feel the minutes passing. That time we were leaving each other for 3 months. At one moment they threw a completely blank image on the screen, the darkness lifted, and I saw that Anne was crying. Then, at midnight, she let go of my hand, after pressing it violently; I got up and left without a word. That was a good job.”
I remember words that my mother gave me when I was young. I had broken both my wrists and was in the hospital enduring grueling pain. She sat down beside me and calmly told me to always remember that, “This too, shall pass.” At the time I took comfort in those words, those which I have come to fear more than any other. Grab the hands of the ones you love, because we must never forget that this too shall pass.
The moment has answered to me, and it has passed. It is time to finish my coffee and go to work. I’ll put a smile on and empty my mind; where I work, there are no thoughts allowed.
Cheap Trinkets
Everywhere the streets are bustling as people try to have adventures. My adventure today is a small one, I’m sitting in my normal spot, methodically sipping my coffee as the crowd walks by. It seems that each person has a destination, as I will in around 20 minutes when I leave for work.
The mix is strange; the crowd consists of tourists, performers putting up their promotional fliers, and disgruntled locals who are sick of all the foolish and shallow sightseers. Tourists do not seek real adventure, instead they seek reputation. They want so badly for everyone to know where they have been. They want proof in the form of souvenirs. Intelligent locals exploit this fact by selling tourists ‘local’ items that have been imported from China. These are usually nothing but cheap trinkets.
I am guilty too, except I don’t want cheap trinkets, even if I could afford them. Instead, I take pictures of things, hopefully things that are interesting in some way. I imagine that any important area of Edinburgh has already been photographed a million times by people with better eyes and cameras than me.
It’s time to have a destination. I’ve had my release and have mentally prepared for the grueling onslaught that will numb my mind for 11 hours. It will be nice when I can stop working to live.
Purpose and Absurdity
Absurd: wildly unreasonable, illogical, or inappropriate.
Purpose: The reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.
People of power
Nothing much to say today, went to work last night, going to work again today. 20 hours in two days… no overtime pay. Workers rights do not exist here, I’ll probably be doing 80 hours a week. People don’t seem to understand what living should be… embedded below is an interesting clip I stumbled upon. I think it speaks volumes, and although I am no anarchist, it is still amazing and inspirational.
