conflicted with the outside world

The freedom to inform and the right to know are not, by all appearances, equitably shared in the world. After centuries of dominance by monolithic political structures and dictatorships, we’re realizing that the Leaders of the Revolution, the helmsmen and fathers of the nation, are predatory vampires whose insatiable appetites have assisted us into a cesspool of human misery. To retain their power, these predators reign in disguise as Bunnies with tools of terror: an efficient system of physical and psychological torture.

Despite the appearance… a guy in a Bunny suit was beating a woman on a busy street corner, witnesses to the assault called police and some guys even boldly took pictures on their phones. Most in all probability just turned up the volume on their spanking new iPods to drown out the screams and kept walking to the mall. Not exactly knights in shining armour. In the face of the doubts and the uncertainties of this shameful scenario, you wonder about the challenges before it.

…You know, come to think of it, I never even thought Bunnies would be important enough to have their own day. I think this weekend used to be about Jesus or something, but like all things, everyone goes out of style sometime, man. Bunnies however are in. Their cute and cuddlesome appearance has therefore usurped Jesus and made this day their own. Along the same lines as how the fat-man and his army of elves and reindeer smuggled Christmas. All I have to say is good job to the identity who had it in on us, oh yes, of course, the Bunny. I love pointless trivial holidays, wait, my mistake, sorry their not holidays, their special days.

Easter to some is about a man who many years ago gave up his life to show us how we were living ours unjustly. Religious or not, Jesus existed and although his miracle performing skills are questionable, he was a great man who did a great many things for many people in need. In case you didn’t know, you can help people without having magic powers. Magic powers make it look only a little more decorative while doing it for the history books. On such days we should remember to realize how we should be at the very least celebrating good will towards our fellow being and we should be sacrificing certain things to help others. So I hope you had a Happy Bunny Day and your chocolate made with slave-gotten beans were consumed merrily as you danced the night away.

In case you have been pondering where I may have been, I’m turning whatever creative energy I have these days into learning Portuguese…

Nah. Not really.

Actually, I have learned a very clever trick so that I don’t embarrass myself while out in public—at least this works in certain situations. There is no possible way that I can keep from embarrassing myself on a fairly regular basis. I have come to accept that an embarrassment-free existence isn’t going to be possible so I just try to keep my personal public humiliations to a minimum by avoiding the public altogether.

I came to this realization just after I had arrived from my brief visit to Montreal. I visited many new locations and enjoyed even more fascinating sceneries. I also found that in Montreal, it’s not that a man happens to carry a purse that makes him a sissy but what's inside that probably does.

I myself have tried to be a real man and although I haven’t completely given up, you wonder how far off could that be before there are too many controls to manipulate, for one, my video game system. I still happen to drink regular coffee from a pot, if you happen to remember that, but more and more often it’s becoming a requirement to have more instructions than a kitchen remodelling job to have just a plain cup. I used to go to the barber shop for a haircut, now only the salons happen to exist.

The professed men’s magazines have articles about how to blow dry your hair and exercises that will make your derriere look more masculine. No wonder Hemingway blew his brains out. Guys who run with the bulls in this day and age probably carry purses and use their free hand to read text messages about hair growth products. Maybe now it’s called “Sauntering” or “sashaying” with the bulls. Maybe the bulls aren’t as tough as they used to be. I hope not because the old bulls would have eaten tall lanky wimps like me for breakfast.

This whole thing along with the very evident appearance and decorative arguments one hears everywhere, the media muzzle. It is all relegated to reflect – with more or less accuracy – the interests of prevailing economic, cultural, political, and social powers. Media manipulation and structured disinformation have become an organizing force, as demonstrated here or to more recent extremes, 9/11, and the extent to which world opinion has had its fill of that media phenomenon. It is all giving me a headache.

Personal opinion is literally submerged by the weight of information which has been culled, wrought and aimed at a public which is considered to be a rabble of cultural morons, incapable of personal judgement and unable to think otherwise than in accordance with the cannons of some source.

I’m not sure where this long inexorable slide into for example, metro sexuality—or whatever you want to call it—began, but taking it from one who's been there I happen to have a pretty good idea of where it will end. I see the Village People adopting a new character in their act that dresses in Kenneth Cole and has a fresh manicure. He can keep everyone’s schedules straight on his palm pilot. Considering this, I’d rather walk around with a tomahawk any day. America’s new male archetype will be the sissy in the Village People.

What’s next? Exposed midriffs or thongs hanging out of our pants? Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t equate homosexuality with being a sissy. I’m addressing the mindless pursuit of personal grooming that has gripped our culture. Both men and women I think are becoming more and more fatuous, boring, and indirectly heightened towards converging into one archetype: unintellectual twits with nice hair. I find it curious that in a culture where everyone is obsessed with health, no one seems the least concerned about the precipitous drop in our ability to carry on an intelligent conversation about anything other than working out or clothes.

If you happen to roughly know my history, I realize the inherent contradiction; this is my arbitrary shutdown into the realization of this principle strewn with obstacles in the shape of archaic, obscure, restrictions. Over the course of my life I have picked up bits of wisdom that I am now ready to begin sharing with the rest of the world. Much of this insight has been acquired through tremendous personal effort, trial and error, cliff notes, forged notes, cheat sheets, purloined answer keys, cassettes tapes, diligent study, over-the-shoulder peaks, night school, imitation, invention, improvisation, correspondence courses, group therapy, psycho therapy, private tutors, and home schooling. I offer this knowledge to you free of charge. That people are working out their bodies for an hour while they pollute their brains the next with People Magazine. It is the replacement of thought with higher grooming standards. That’s a shitty trade-off in my book.

So are we going to give up our weekends in favour of shopping vacations? I may have been had since I mentioned the consumer cultured Montreal in the first, but actually I was trying to figure out what to do with the dead hooker in my motel while worrying about paying for excess baggage on my return trip. Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery, but not in the face. I just put on an exfoliation mask.