The mint brownie is gone. I gave it to my downstairs neighbour. I just ate the lemon loaf. A little stale, but not bad.
So: I'm pretty stressed out. And lots of the people I know seem to be stressed out. But we really shouldn't be. I mean, if we miss a deadline, it's not as if anyone will die. They'll just be, y'know. Pissed off that we missed a deadline.
Maybe I should take up meditation. Or start doing yoga again.
See? Now I'm stressed about not doing enough yoga. Damn it all.
Ran into some boys from the Arbour Lake Sghool tonight, and was recommended a drink: a stout beer with a shot of Wild Turkey and a shot of... dammit, I've forgotten the last ingredient. I shall have to try every possible variety of liquor until something tastes good.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Oh, and...
Fabulous linguistic discoveries of the day:
"Don't they know that smoking's a gamble? They can gamble on any streetcorner!"
- Jason Long, in a discussion of smoking in casinos
"The unceasing onslaught of fresh musical delights can overwhelm even the most devoted music fan."
- on the back of Have You Heard, a Starbucks-exclusive compilation CD
"Don't they know that smoking's a gamble? They can gamble on any streetcorner!"
- Jason Long, in a discussion of smoking in casinos
"The unceasing onslaught of fresh musical delights can overwhelm even the most devoted music fan."
- on the back of Have You Heard, a Starbucks-exclusive compilation CD
Caffeine Nation
I learned a lot about Starbucks tonight.
I learned that their big bucket 'o coffee is not called a "Travel Kit", but rather a "Coffee Traveller".
After confusing the barista at the Memorial Drive Starbucks by asking for a "Travel Kit", I learned that the Memorial Drive Starbucks was out of "Coffee Travellers".
I learned that, near my home, there are (at least) three Starbucks in a ten-block radius: the Memorial Drive, Bridgeland and Centre Street locations.
I learned that these three locations are buddies. Upon discovering they were out of "Coffee Travellers", Memorial Drive called Bridgeland to get the phone number for Centre Street, to ask Centre Street to prepare a "Coffee Traveller" full of "Home Brew" (which is more popular than "Dark Roast") so it would be ready when I arrived.
I learned that cute young baristas will take pity on a hapless non-coffee drinker and tell him that, yes, people do generally appreciate the inclusion of cream and sugar.
I learned that cute young baristas will accept the request for a "small but delicious variety of pastries" as a personal challenge. They will select, among others items, a slice of lemon loaf, a mint brownie and a raspberry-triangle-thing.
I learned that a "Coffee Traveller" and seven pastries cost $28 and change.
I learned that a "Coffee Traveller" contains more than enough coffee for five board members, who, despite the public announcement, were the only people who showed up for CYPT's Annual General Meeting.
I learned that caffeine and sugar greatly enhance the entertainment value of an AGM.
Those are the things I learned about Starbucks tonight. I have a slice of lemon loaf and a mint brownie in my kitchen, if anyone's interested.
I learned that their big bucket 'o coffee is not called a "Travel Kit", but rather a "Coffee Traveller".
After confusing the barista at the Memorial Drive Starbucks by asking for a "Travel Kit", I learned that the Memorial Drive Starbucks was out of "Coffee Travellers".
I learned that, near my home, there are (at least) three Starbucks in a ten-block radius: the Memorial Drive, Bridgeland and Centre Street locations.
I learned that these three locations are buddies. Upon discovering they were out of "Coffee Travellers", Memorial Drive called Bridgeland to get the phone number for Centre Street, to ask Centre Street to prepare a "Coffee Traveller" full of "Home Brew" (which is more popular than "Dark Roast") so it would be ready when I arrived.
I learned that cute young baristas will take pity on a hapless non-coffee drinker and tell him that, yes, people do generally appreciate the inclusion of cream and sugar.
I learned that cute young baristas will accept the request for a "small but delicious variety of pastries" as a personal challenge. They will select, among others items, a slice of lemon loaf, a mint brownie and a raspberry-triangle-thing.
I learned that a "Coffee Traveller" and seven pastries cost $28 and change.
I learned that a "Coffee Traveller" contains more than enough coffee for five board members, who, despite the public announcement, were the only people who showed up for CYPT's Annual General Meeting.
I learned that caffeine and sugar greatly enhance the entertainment value of an AGM.
Those are the things I learned about Starbucks tonight. I have a slice of lemon loaf and a mint brownie in my kitchen, if anyone's interested.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
bold art and hard sex
Somebody wrote that on my fridge with magnetic poetry. Two very admirable goals for life.
I went to see Dance Montage 2008 tonight (and arrived twenty minutes early - YES!), which is an annual showcase of short choreography. It was a mixed bag of performances, though lovely Léda Davies kicked some serious ass as both a dancer (in N'Bara Ta-Gan) and choreographer (for Wanderlust). Yay Léda!
Flipping through the program, I noticed that several dancers were pulling double-duty, performing in different pieces. And then I noticed that some dancers were pulling triple-duty. And then I noticed that a woman named Chelsey Higdon was performing in FIVE out of eleven pieces. Damn, girl, that's a lot of rehearsals.
Unsurprisingly, from where I was sitting, Chelsey was gorgeous. The pieces she performed ranged from belly dance to hip-hop to contemporary to ballet, and she figured prominently in each of them.
After Resistance (a pretty badass piece choreographed by Annalisa Whittle, in which the dancers were wrapped in elastics and manipulated them to great effect), I overheard the young woman next to me say, "Wasn't Chelsey great?"
I leaned over. "Is Chelsey the one who's dancing in, like, five pieces?"
"Yeah," she replied, with just a tiny note of jealousy in her voice. "And she's a first-year."
In the ballet piece, Aejopstux (again, quite good, choreographed by Carla French), there's a moment where Ms. Higdon is spirited away by the two male dancers, Joel Hathaway and Michael Myroniuk. The remaining nine female dancers bunch together in the corner and watch (again, with a hint of longing) as the pair of toned men vie for the attention of the lithe first-year pivoting between them.
Meta-Dance Montage? Hm.
I went to see Dance Montage 2008 tonight (and arrived twenty minutes early - YES!), which is an annual showcase of short choreography. It was a mixed bag of performances, though lovely Léda Davies kicked some serious ass as both a dancer (in N'Bara Ta-Gan) and choreographer (for Wanderlust). Yay Léda!
Flipping through the program, I noticed that several dancers were pulling double-duty, performing in different pieces. And then I noticed that some dancers were pulling triple-duty. And then I noticed that a woman named Chelsey Higdon was performing in FIVE out of eleven pieces. Damn, girl, that's a lot of rehearsals.
Unsurprisingly, from where I was sitting, Chelsey was gorgeous. The pieces she performed ranged from belly dance to hip-hop to contemporary to ballet, and she figured prominently in each of them.
After Resistance (a pretty badass piece choreographed by Annalisa Whittle, in which the dancers were wrapped in elastics and manipulated them to great effect), I overheard the young woman next to me say, "Wasn't Chelsey great?"
I leaned over. "Is Chelsey the one who's dancing in, like, five pieces?"
"Yeah," she replied, with just a tiny note of jealousy in her voice. "And she's a first-year."
In the ballet piece, Aejopstux (again, quite good, choreographed by Carla French), there's a moment where Ms. Higdon is spirited away by the two male dancers, Joel Hathaway and Michael Myroniuk. The remaining nine female dancers bunch together in the corner and watch (again, with a hint of longing) as the pair of toned men vie for the attention of the lithe first-year pivoting between them.
Meta-Dance Montage? Hm.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Mark Tardy Hopkins
Forgiveness is paramount!
---
I'm often late for things. Despite the fact that I usually get away with it, it's a problem.
Last night, I headed up to birds & stone to check out Amber Lights (written/produced by Simone Saunders and directed by Jennifer Roberts!). The show started at 8:00, and I left the house around 7:48 because... why? I think I was playing Spider-Man: Web of Shadows (a game that runs at a crawl on my poor computer) and forgot to eat dinner, so when I noticed the time, I paused to shove something down my throat on the way out the door.
I leapt into my car, slammed it into reverse and backed out of my spot, just like I've done a hundred times before. Only, this time, the parking lot was covered in ice.
Usually, I can swing out of my spot with a comfortable space between my car and its opposite, parked on the other side of the lot. This time, however, my car just kept swinging around, right toward my neighbour's rear bumper. I slammed on the brakes, and we skidded in Hollywood-style slow motion, stopping a hair's breadth before impact.
Adrenaline freshly pumping, I headed for Memorial Drive.
En route, I somehow managed to tear my right thumbnail - nothing too dramatic, just a sliver that I would have later cut off anyway, but enough that it hurt. The sliver refused to relinquish its death-grip on my thumb, and so when I pulled up to birds & stone (at what my dashboard clock told me was 7:58 pm), I spent a couple minutes resolving my thumbnail issue.
Feeling much happier about life in general, with the digital clock screaming 8:00!!! at me, I hurried over to the birds & stone entrance... and it was locked.
I was puzzled. Had I misread the showtime? Was the run over?
I mused that perhaps they had decided to use the 1st St entrance, rather than the 16th Ave, so I moseyed over. That door was unlocked, so I headed down the stairs, where I encountered a locked door right outside of where the box office should be.
I shrugged and knocked. After a moment, a young woman opened the door.
"Um," she said. "We're about to start the show."
"Great!" I replied. "Can I come in?"
She paused. "Do you have a ticket?"
"No."
"Uh," she said, glancing anxiously over her shoulder toward the theatre. "Look, I gotta be on stage. I need to lock this door."
"Oh! Okay..."
"Sorry man!"
Slam.
Belatedly, realising that I had just inadvertently stressed out one of the actors, I thought about wishing her a good show. The newly locked door didn't offer any suggestions on how, so I headed back to my car, bemused at my predictability, and drove home to write a blog post about my proclivity for tardiness. Annnnd then I got distracted and never got around to it.
Tonight, after getting my "bad-ass" haircut at Swizzlesticks, I headed up to 16th Ave for a dinner/CYPT meeting with Mat. We wrapped up around 7:05, which left me with fifty-five minutes to kill before Amber Lights, attempt #2.
Normally, in such a situation, I would either head home or order another beer, then rush for the theatre just in time to snag a seat. But I decided, no. Today I will be early.
Showed up at 7:15. Had a nice chat with Simone and her brother. Returned Downstage's projection stand to storage. Ran into some other friends. Got a seat in the front row.
Compared to my normal routine, it was pretty relaxed.
I doubt this is any kind of turning point, and I fully suspect that I'll continue to squeal out of parking lots, hoping that whoever I'm meeting is later than me. But, wow, wouldn't life be way calmer if I could start being early?
---
I'm often late for things. Despite the fact that I usually get away with it, it's a problem.
Last night, I headed up to birds & stone to check out Amber Lights (written/produced by Simone Saunders and directed by Jennifer Roberts!). The show started at 8:00, and I left the house around 7:48 because... why? I think I was playing Spider-Man: Web of Shadows (a game that runs at a crawl on my poor computer) and forgot to eat dinner, so when I noticed the time, I paused to shove something down my throat on the way out the door.
I leapt into my car, slammed it into reverse and backed out of my spot, just like I've done a hundred times before. Only, this time, the parking lot was covered in ice.
Usually, I can swing out of my spot with a comfortable space between my car and its opposite, parked on the other side of the lot. This time, however, my car just kept swinging around, right toward my neighbour's rear bumper. I slammed on the brakes, and we skidded in Hollywood-style slow motion, stopping a hair's breadth before impact.
Adrenaline freshly pumping, I headed for Memorial Drive.
En route, I somehow managed to tear my right thumbnail - nothing too dramatic, just a sliver that I would have later cut off anyway, but enough that it hurt. The sliver refused to relinquish its death-grip on my thumb, and so when I pulled up to birds & stone (at what my dashboard clock told me was 7:58 pm), I spent a couple minutes resolving my thumbnail issue.
Feeling much happier about life in general, with the digital clock screaming 8:00!!! at me, I hurried over to the birds & stone entrance... and it was locked.
I was puzzled. Had I misread the showtime? Was the run over?
I mused that perhaps they had decided to use the 1st St entrance, rather than the 16th Ave, so I moseyed over. That door was unlocked, so I headed down the stairs, where I encountered a locked door right outside of where the box office should be.
I shrugged and knocked. After a moment, a young woman opened the door.
"Um," she said. "We're about to start the show."
"Great!" I replied. "Can I come in?"
She paused. "Do you have a ticket?"
"No."
"Uh," she said, glancing anxiously over her shoulder toward the theatre. "Look, I gotta be on stage. I need to lock this door."
"Oh! Okay..."
"Sorry man!"
Slam.
Belatedly, realising that I had just inadvertently stressed out one of the actors, I thought about wishing her a good show. The newly locked door didn't offer any suggestions on how, so I headed back to my car, bemused at my predictability, and drove home to write a blog post about my proclivity for tardiness. Annnnd then I got distracted and never got around to it.
Tonight, after getting my "bad-ass" haircut at Swizzlesticks, I headed up to 16th Ave for a dinner/CYPT meeting with Mat. We wrapped up around 7:05, which left me with fifty-five minutes to kill before Amber Lights, attempt #2.
Normally, in such a situation, I would either head home or order another beer, then rush for the theatre just in time to snag a seat. But I decided, no. Today I will be early.
Showed up at 7:15. Had a nice chat with Simone and her brother. Returned Downstage's projection stand to storage. Ran into some other friends. Got a seat in the front row.
Compared to my normal routine, it was pretty relaxed.
I doubt this is any kind of turning point, and I fully suspect that I'll continue to squeal out of parking lots, hoping that whoever I'm meeting is later than me. But, wow, wouldn't life be way calmer if I could start being early?
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Murky
Missed a day! But forgiveness is paramount.
I did not expect to end up at Ming last night, and I did not expect to stay until 1:30 in the morning. Aren't surprises neat? Note to self: the Marco Polo is a damned tasty martini.
I feel swamped these days, in the literal "being sucked below the surface, into an asphyxiating quagmire of muck" sense. All of my jobs, all at once, seem to be screaming at me with urgent deadlines. It's all a bit deafening.
The trailer for Repo! the Genetic Opera brings me joy. I'm afraid to see the movie. What if it's not as good as the trailer? Tragedy!
I did not expect to end up at Ming last night, and I did not expect to stay until 1:30 in the morning. Aren't surprises neat? Note to self: the Marco Polo is a damned tasty martini.
I feel swamped these days, in the literal "being sucked below the surface, into an asphyxiating quagmire of muck" sense. All of my jobs, all at once, seem to be screaming at me with urgent deadlines. It's all a bit deafening.
The trailer for Repo! the Genetic Opera brings me joy. I'm afraid to see the movie. What if it's not as good as the trailer? Tragedy!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Audacious
A while ago, I wrote an article on sleep.
God, I'm optimistic sometimes. "If my work is keeping me up past midnight, it can wait until tomorrow." Pssh.
I need to stop writing articles with embedded resolutions. I don't make New Year's resolutions; why should I make promises I can't keep to an anonymous audience of magazine readers? It just makes me feel guilty when, once again, I find myself pulling an all-nighter.
Sigh.
Had a lovely evening. Caught up with various dear friends. Spoke French. Am exhausted and slightly drunk.
Should go to bed. Probably won't.
God, I'm optimistic sometimes. "If my work is keeping me up past midnight, it can wait until tomorrow." Pssh.
I need to stop writing articles with embedded resolutions. I don't make New Year's resolutions; why should I make promises I can't keep to an anonymous audience of magazine readers? It just makes me feel guilty when, once again, I find myself pulling an all-nighter.
Sigh.
Had a lovely evening. Caught up with various dear friends. Spoke French. Am exhausted and slightly drunk.
Should go to bed. Probably won't.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Naked Blogging
I used to write for fun.
I started writing when I was about 15, short stories mostly. I joined a superhero fiction community called The Parodyverse (still around, a decade later - crazy!), co-wrote a crazy stream-of-consciousness novel with Colin Horgan, planned for the story that would launch my inevitable authorial stardom.
These days - after years of creative writing classes, journalism, editing, dramaturgy and criticism - it's rare that I find the "fun" in writing. Sure, occasionally I'll get caught up in an exciting turn of phrase, delight at discovering the precise word to best express my message, but mostly... writing is a job. Pitches, deadlines, paycheques. Which, when I think about it, is kinda fucked.
Now, when I try to write creatively, when I even try to come up with an idea... I freeze. I'll use any excuse I can to get away from the keyboard, promising myself that I'll come up with a brilliant idea later.
Hell, it's taken me nearly two months to muster up the courage to write an original blog post.
In a lot of ways, my life is awesome. But I miss writing. I miss the fun, the discovery, the creativity. And I want to get it back.
That's why I started this blog. I want to write, unfiltered, whatever leaps to mind. I want to write often. I want some of the writing to be shitty and embarrassing, because experimentation and failure are the only ways to discover something unexpected and magnificent.
So here's the goal: I want to post on this blog every day. Whether it's rambling autobiography, or fiction, or poetry, or a cool link, or a newsletter. Every day.
(Because, y'know, I'm not busy enough.)
So. Day 1. That's a pretty good start.
Stay tuned for Day 2.
I started writing when I was about 15, short stories mostly. I joined a superhero fiction community called The Parodyverse (still around, a decade later - crazy!), co-wrote a crazy stream-of-consciousness novel with Colin Horgan, planned for the story that would launch my inevitable authorial stardom.
These days - after years of creative writing classes, journalism, editing, dramaturgy and criticism - it's rare that I find the "fun" in writing. Sure, occasionally I'll get caught up in an exciting turn of phrase, delight at discovering the precise word to best express my message, but mostly... writing is a job. Pitches, deadlines, paycheques. Which, when I think about it, is kinda fucked.
Now, when I try to write creatively, when I even try to come up with an idea... I freeze. I'll use any excuse I can to get away from the keyboard, promising myself that I'll come up with a brilliant idea later.
Hell, it's taken me nearly two months to muster up the courage to write an original blog post.
In a lot of ways, my life is awesome. But I miss writing. I miss the fun, the discovery, the creativity. And I want to get it back.
That's why I started this blog. I want to write, unfiltered, whatever leaps to mind. I want to write often. I want some of the writing to be shitty and embarrassing, because experimentation and failure are the only ways to discover something unexpected and magnificent.
So here's the goal: I want to post on this blog every day. Whether it's rambling autobiography, or fiction, or poetry, or a cool link, or a newsletter. Every day.
(Because, y'know, I'm not busy enough.)
So. Day 1. That's a pretty good start.
Stay tuned for Day 2.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Hopkins Happenings - November 2008
Hi everyone,
Time for the monthly update on my various and varied activities! November has already been pretty hectic (hence the delay in receiving this newsletter), and I've got a bunch of stuff coming down the pipeline, including:
The Canadian Festival of Spoken Word has been city-hopping for several years, and the 2008 edition landed in Calgary, bringing teams of slam poets from across the country to compete for the national crown.
I was lucky enough to MC two events in the festival - Opening Night on November 5 and Poetry Hotshots this afternoon at Cafe Beano. Both were fantastic events, and tonight four teams will go head-to-head for the grand prize, with special readings by D. Kimm, RC Weslowski and Regie Cabico. Should be a fun time!
Salon de la Conversation
For a couple of years, a group of French-speakers have been meeting at the Kensington Pub every Monday night to... well, drink beer and speak French. It's a great, friendly environment to brush up on your language skills and meet some cool people. Si vous parlez français, j'espère de vous voir au Kensington Pub lundi soir!
Doing Leonard Cohen
Body Language
Body Language, part of Downstage's Motel Series, features two performances: Do Me, by Jennifer Roberts, and Pouring the Liquid Unseen, by Marie-Ève Bonneau.
Do Me explores the dance of romance, as men and women clash, crash and unite in a series of vignettes. Pouring the Liquid Unseen invites the audience to a private transformative experience, which combines movement, dance, visual art and music for an intimate exploration of healing, improvisation and the fluidity of the human experience.
Two original works by extremely talented local artists. Check it out!
Sylvia Plath Must Not Die - Unplugged
Ooh, let's use the description I wrote for last year's Rodeo Guide!
"Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, two of the 20th century's most prolific and complex literary figures, are inexorably linked, as much by their mutual zeal for life as by their infamous deaths. The award-winning One Yellow Rabbit Performing Ensemble invites audiences to revisit its voyeuristic journey to another era, where cocktails are swilled and conflicted souls are expressed in a cathartic torrent of ink and emotion. "
Legion of Freaks
The event will be in support of our next production, Freak Show, taking place January 8-10 at the 2009 High Performance Rodeo.
For more details, call Charles Netto at 403.397.8559.
- - -
I think that's about it for November. There are a couple We Should Know Each Other parties on the horizon (#18 and #19, to be exact!), and if you'd like to attend, just drop me a line.
Oh, and - Hooray for Obama, boo on Harper!
Have a fantastic November, and I hope to see you around town!
Mark Hopkins
Time for the monthly update on my various and varied activities! November has already been pretty hectic (hence the delay in receiving this newsletter), and I've got a bunch of stuff coming down the pipeline, including:
- 2008 National SLAM & Canadian Festival of Spoken Word
- Salon de la conversation
- Doing Leonard Cohen
- Body Language
- Sylvia Plath Must Not Die - Unplugged
- Legion of Freaks
November 5-8
various locations
National Slam Finals: November 8, 8:00 pm
Central Library, 616 Macleod Trail SE
$10
So, um, this festival ends tonight. Sorry for the late notice!various locations
National Slam Finals: November 8, 8:00 pm
Central Library, 616 Macleod Trail SE
$10
The Canadian Festival of Spoken Word has been city-hopping for several years, and the 2008 edition landed in Calgary, bringing teams of slam poets from across the country to compete for the national crown.
I was lucky enough to MC two events in the festival - Opening Night on November 5 and Poetry Hotshots this afternoon at Cafe Beano. Both were fantastic events, and tonight four teams will go head-to-head for the grand prize, with special readings by D. Kimm, RC Weslowski and Regie Cabico. Should be a fun time!
Salon de la Conversation
Every Monday, around 8:00 pm
Kensington Pub
207 10A St NW
Kensington Pub
207 10A St NW
For a couple of years, a group of French-speakers have been meeting at the Kensington Pub every Monday night to... well, drink beer and speak French. It's a great, friendly environment to brush up on your language skills and meet some cool people. Si vous parlez français, j'espère de vous voir au Kensington Pub lundi soir!
Doing Leonard Cohen
November 25-29, 8:00 pm
Big Secret Theatre, EPCOR CENTRE for the Performing Arts
$20-$31
My fabulous employer, One Yellow Rabbit, re-mounts one of its most popular performances. Doing Leonard Cohen is an homage to the amazing poetry and prose of Leonard Cohen, including excerpts from Death of a Lady's Man, The Spice Box of Earth and Beautiful Losers. It's performed by the One Yellow Rabbit Ensemble, and after glimpsing their rehearsals, I'm pretty psyched to see the show. Big Secret Theatre, EPCOR CENTRE for the Performing Arts
$20-$31
Body Language
November 27-December 6
Thursday-Saturday at 8:00 pm
Motel, EPCOR CENTRE for the Performing Arts
$12
Thursday-Saturday at 8:00 pm
Motel, EPCOR CENTRE for the Performing Arts
$12
Body Language, part of Downstage's Motel Series, features two performances: Do Me, by Jennifer Roberts, and Pouring the Liquid Unseen, by Marie-Ève Bonneau.
Do Me explores the dance of romance, as men and women clash, crash and unite in a series of vignettes. Pouring the Liquid Unseen invites the audience to a private transformative experience, which combines movement, dance, visual art and music for an intimate exploration of healing, improvisation and the fluidity of the human experience.
Two original works by extremely talented local artists. Check it out!
Sylvia Plath Must Not Die - Unplugged
Saturday, November 29, 2:00 pm
Big Secret Theatre, EPCOR CENTRE for the Performing Arts
$14 in advance, PWYC at the door
The Rabbits are heading off to Toronto to perform both Doing Leonard Cohen and Sylvia Plath Must Not Die, and this is Calgary's chance to see a bare-bones performance of the poetic performance that debuted at the 2008 High Performance Rodeo.Big Secret Theatre, EPCOR CENTRE for the Performing Arts
$14 in advance, PWYC at the door
Ooh, let's use the description I wrote for last year's Rodeo Guide!
"Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, two of the 20th century's most prolific and complex literary figures, are inexorably linked, as much by their mutual zeal for life as by their infamous deaths. The award-winning One Yellow Rabbit Performing Ensemble invites audiences to revisit its voyeuristic journey to another era, where cocktails are swilled and conflicted souls are expressed in a cathartic torrent of ink and emotion. "
Legion of Freaks
Saturday, November 29, 8:00 pm
Royal Canadian Legion, Branch #1
116 7th Ave SE
Time for another Swallow-a-Bicycle party! Many of the details for this shindig still need to be pinned down, but for anyone who attended Lust After Sunset (or saw the pictures!), you know this party will be off the hook. We're going to have wandering freaks and weirdoes, live music and special performances. Watch for more details!Royal Canadian Legion, Branch #1
116 7th Ave SE
The event will be in support of our next production, Freak Show, taking place January 8-10 at the 2009 High Performance Rodeo.
For more details, call Charles Netto at 403.397.8559.
- - -
I think that's about it for November. There are a couple We Should Know Each Other parties on the horizon (#18 and #19, to be exact!), and if you'd like to attend, just drop me a line.
Oh, and - Hooray for Obama, boo on Harper!
Have a fantastic November, and I hope to see you around town!
Mark Hopkins
Monday, November 3, 2008
Overheard at Priape, near the dildos
A man behind the counter, on the phone:
"No, Mom, a cock-ring! It goes around your cock."
Kinnie Starr on cell phones
I also chatted with Kinnie Starr for FFWD, and this is how our conversation ended:
--
Dude, this phone is making my head turn numb. I gotta get off of it. I can feel the electrical current, like, eating my brain.
- Kinnie Starr, phone interview, October 2008
--
Dude, this phone is making my head turn numb. I gotta get off of it. I can feel the electrical current, like, eating my brain.
- Kinnie Starr, phone interview, October 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Patrick Lane on politics
I interviewed Patrick Lane for FFWD a few weeks ago, just before he came to town for WordFest. He was reading at an event on October 15, the day after the federal election. During the interview, I asked him what he thought of Stephen Harper's disparaging comments about the arts. His answer didn't make it into print, but I think it's worth sharing.
--
It's not really new, Harper attacking the arts. He really would love to see CBC disappear altogether, he'd love to see the Canada Council diminished.
I think politicians are afraid of art and artists. They unnerve them because they're unmanageable. They're a disorderly bunch who'll come out with anything, and this scares them. A guy like Harper, who's got such a need for order in the world... none of his candidates can even talk, right? Only Harper can talk. This is a control freak of mammoth proportions, and control freaks can't stand disorder. Artists offer them that, and it scares them.
Not just him - the NDP has never been a friend of the arts. I think of the NDP in British Columbia, who had an opportunity to really help out the arts, and they were actually afraid of it. They chose not to foster a healthy cultural community. They thought they were fostering a cultural community, but they wanted to exclude the arts.
--
It's not really new, Harper attacking the arts. He really would love to see CBC disappear altogether, he'd love to see the Canada Council diminished.
I think politicians are afraid of art and artists. They unnerve them because they're unmanageable. They're a disorderly bunch who'll come out with anything, and this scares them. A guy like Harper, who's got such a need for order in the world... none of his candidates can even talk, right? Only Harper can talk. This is a control freak of mammoth proportions, and control freaks can't stand disorder. Artists offer them that, and it scares them.
Not just him - the NDP has never been a friend of the arts. I think of the NDP in British Columbia, who had an opportunity to really help out the arts, and they were actually afraid of it. They chose not to foster a healthy cultural community. They thought they were fostering a cultural community, but they wanted to exclude the arts.
I've heard it before. I mean, I've been around for 70 years, I'm looking back to Mackenzie King. Louis St. Laurent was like this, Diefenbaker was like this, Trudeau was better, but everyone in Alberta doesn't have the greatest respect for old Pierre, not after the National Energy Policy back in the late 60s, early 70s. Mulroney didn't do anything for the arts. They make promises, Dion's made a few promises about the Canada Council, but words don't always get translated into actions after an election. "These are hard economic times, we can't just throw money here."
The arts is huge! 10% of the Canadian economy is based on the arts. It’s a multi-billion dollar industry. You’re a part of it, I’m a part of it, and for him to wander around, muttering about artists, it’s kind of embarassing. It really is.
I’m not frustrated by this, because I’ve seen it before, I’m just saddened that we have to keep on going through it. Other countries don’t do this.
- Patrick Lane, phone interview, October 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
