theMediaman.com

I don’t know what to talk about.

Not the war. It seems that everything’s been said. Everyone who hasn’t changed his or her mind yet… just won’t. Not until the end of the war or the end of the World. Either way, we lose.

It’s been a while since the beginning of the war, so I feel like I must make it clear again. I am not against a war with Iraq, so much as how Bush went about it. The issue is not over who should control Iraq, Saddam or Bush. The issue is that Bush refused to listen to the UN and decided to cowboy his way into History.

Not the Provincial Budget that was handed down yesterday. Not that it was unconstitutional nor why. Not that Eves and Ecker are buying our votes with our own money. And I definitely don’t want to talk about how it worked last time, nor how one of Livewire’s clients is a bedroom pal with the worst of the Tories.

Not television. I don’t have anything more to say about how brain-dead Reality TV is. I don’t want to talk about how annoying my co-workers are, talking around the watercooler about last night’s episode of “When American Popstars Survive Fear Factor”. I’m not talking about how I have to blast NIN through my headphones in order to drown them out, nor how I get an attempted shame-trip when I can’t hear someone who is sitting across the room paging me on my phone.

Not SARS, nor how it’s this month’s feature FEAR = CONSUMPTION = HEALTHY ECONOMY.

Not SUVs, gas guzzling luxury vehicles or fuckwads in Jettas who cut me off. Drivers in Toronto suck, simply put. That’s all there is to say.

Not how I was waken up by the nutzoid mother upstairs screaming at her kids to get ready for school. Nor how I decided today that there’s virtually no chance in Hell that any of those kids are going to grow up well-adjusted. I don’t want to think about the slim chance that they’ll be lucky and turn out like Paul… a sane person from an insane household.

Not my job. I’m definitely not talking about my job here. I’m writing this on my lunch break.

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I’m reclusive because I rarely find people who interest me more than they annoy me.

Since moving to Toronto, I’ve been bombarded by stupid people. I can’t stand them.

While I don’t condone what the Unibomber did, I see the people who spawned his insanity every day on my drive to work. Standing in front of me in line at Tim Hortons. In the next cubicle. On 54 of the channels I have to surf through before getting to Outer Limits reruns on the Space Channel.

If I seem pessimistic, it’s only because I’ve been taken off the only interesting Flash work I’ve been allowed to do in six months. Twice.

And whether I throw my insightful (read: insignificant) opinion into the ring or not, Bush is still fighting a war for “ficticious reasons”, Eves and the Provincial Tories will fool the sheep of Ontario once again and get re-elected, two hour Reality TV shows will continue to replace Prime Time sitcoms and dramas, someone will discover that SARS is a biological weapon… just a moment too late…, the rich will continue to change the climate by belching shit from stupidly expensive cars while driving their kids three blocks to school on a sunny morning, the mother in the house above me will continue screaming at her kids and I’ll still not talk about my job here.

It’s times like these when I feel powerless. Someone like Michael Moore keeps me going, knowing that even one man can give the Machine a real run for its money…

…but in the end, even he is not strong enough to be more than a thorn in the sides of the Stupid-Rich.

It’s times like these when I feel like that jackoff in the luxury SUV really may be more important than me… at least he seems to have the whole fucking world on his side.

What can I do? I guess, just keep writing. Someday I’ll see some key opportunity, or even produce one and then take hold of it.

Until then, enjoy your fucking World… it won’t be yours for long.

Whoa. On behalf of our producers Kathleen Glynn and Michael Donovan from Canada, I’d like to thank the Academy for this. I have invited my fellow documentary nominees on the stage with us, and we would like to — they’re here in solidarity with me because we like nonfiction. We like nonfiction and we live in fictitious times. We live in the time where we have fictitious election results that elects a fictitious president. We live in a time where we have a man sending us to war for fictitious reasons. Whether it’s the fictition of duct tape or fictition of orange alerts we are against this war, Mr. Bush. Shame on you, Mr. Bush, shame on you. And any time you got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, your time is up. Thank you very much.

- Michael Moore in his Academy Award Acceptance Speech, for winning Best Documentary for Bowling for Columbine

Thank you, Mr. Moore. Wherever you are.

Well, the war is on, and Terrorists and Human Rights Violators are lovin’ it!

Imagine being in China’s shoes. They have performed Countless violations of the Human Rights Codes over many years (”China human rights violations” returns over 180,000 results in Google).

They’ve started opening themselves up to the Capitalism of the West, by letting people like Rupert Murdoch set up monopolies under the People’s Republic’s jurisdiction. There’s also little doubt that the 2008 Olympic bid was bought, rather than granted to China. I wasn’t very gung-ho to have Toronto win the bid either, but I would rather have traffic horror for two weeks than be torn between supporting my country’s atheletes or boycotting the 2008 Olympics.

Now that the mighty USA, the country that helped create and host the United Nations, has turned its back. What’s to stop other countries citing this as why the UN holds no jurisdiction over them?

“The Great Country of The United States Of America doesn’t play by the UN’s rules, why should we?”

Once Dubya decided to go-it-alone, he undermined all the efforts of those peace-lovers who never again want to see a World War.

The invasion of Iraq is nothing more than a Corporate Takeover escalated to Political levels. Give a businessman the President’s seat, and he’ll treat the world like a company… except in the political arena, it’s called Totalitarianism. Bush is no longer anything more than another one of the bullies he claims to be cleansing from the World.

Quite frankly, given all the brushoffs and insults Dubya’s thrown at Canada over the last two years (and his HAS outdone ours, number and weight), I’m very proud that Jean Cretien in did not play the patsy and submit our troops to Dubya’s World Domination.

*urg*… St. Patrick’s day was great. Post-St. Patrick’s day wasn’t.

Of course, it didn’t help much that I only had four hours of sleep on Sunday, but yesterday I felt positivly dead. I probably should have taken a sick day, but it would be pretty obvious why I wasn’t at work.

The reason for my sudden resurgance in writing Journal entries is a compensation for giving up the battle with my co-workers. Previously, I was annoyed by those who bring lunch into Production, distracting me from one of the most productive times of the day for me… around 11:00 - 1:00.

I went through proper channels (talked to my Superior and asked for an email to be sent around), pleaded on a personal level (reasonable email to the entire Livewire staff), and even took friends’ suggestions on proactive methods to get my point across (hiding a poorly wrapped tuna and mayo sandwich somewhere near the desks of the biggest offenders).

While some of my co-workers have listened (Thanks, Lam), I’ve given up on the others. So to coincide with my new resolution to force myself to always eat lunch, I’ve been eating it at my desk while writing in my journal. This also helps me keep the length of these things down to a simple read.

Several months ago, I took flak for these things having time/date stamps during the workday. There was a valid reason for that (relating to exactly HOW Blogger records time/date stamps). This time, all my publishing will be done around 1:30 - 2:00, since I usually start my lunch after 1:00 every day.

I wanted to make this statement before, but I had to see if I was actually going to keep up with it this time. I’m happy to say that I am!

Unfortunately, I have to start all over again if I wanted to use this journal in order to become a Canadian Secure Citizen (looking for link… gimme a minute).

Wow! Gorgeous weekend…. or so I was told. I stayed inside most of Saturday and Sunday. As a geek, I see it as a real accomplishment to avoid beautiful weather. Unfortunately, while everyone is showing off their tans they got while chopping up driveway ice, I am as pasty white as ever…

…and good thing too! It’s St. Patrick’s Day! What kind of Irishman would I be to celebrate this holiest of holidays sporting a fresh, new, copper skintone?

Well, truth be told, I’m only 1/4 Irish, with the rest of my heritage being 1/4 English and 1/2 Scottish. For some reason, I feel my Irish background most… maybe it’s all the beer. My answer to the question, “What would you do if you won $1 million? My choice would be either to open a cult video store, or move to Ireland and open a local pub.

I don’t know about you, but after watching a few minutes of CNN, I really need a beer.