Recently, I got my police background check.
At first glance, it costs $45. This is already ridiculous in the age of digital databases. I imagine that Canadian bureaucratic record keeping is an indoor ocean of little slips of paper. Seniors wearing old tyme bathing suits take handwritten requests and then dive for information.
Once I'm in the front of the line I give them my driver's license. The friendly person helping me returns with a forced smile.
"I have some... news."
"I like news!"
"There's a new RCMP initiative. Your birthday matches that of a known sex offender."
"Okay..."
"You have to be fingerprinted. (beat) But we don't have to keep the records of it. (beat) It's because of Homolka."
"Sorry?"
"Karla Homolka. She tried to change her name. Now they're checking birthdays. Did you ever change your name?"
"Nope."
"You'll still have to be fingerprinted."
"Awesome! Let's do it!"
"Well... we can't."
"???"
"It costs an additional $25."
"I just paid $45 using interac. What's another $25?"
"You can't pay with interac."
"???"
"It has to be in the form of a certified cheque made out to the Receiver General of Canada."
"The fuck?"
"And you'll have to make an appointment to be fingerprinted."
Fortunately, my saint sister is there with her two-year old. The bureaucrat assumes we are married and bumps me to an immediate appointment. My sister heads to the bank to get a certified cheque. As I fill out two more forms with my name and address.
"There's a charge for these forms."
"Okay."
"It's $23."
"I just paid $45 using interac. My sister is getting a certified cheque for $25, What's another $23?"
"No... our machine only recognizes a bank card once."
"???"
"You can't pay with interac."
"Credit card?"
So I pay with my credit card. My sister returns with the cheque and I get all of my fingers slathered in ink and recorded for the government. I hope the elderly divers find the right slips of paper so that I get these back in times.
Seriously though,
I need this police records check so I wasn't about to take my freak out moment but this process seems unfair. Obviously, I'm only noticing this because I got the shit end of the shitstick. The cost of my police check doubled because of my birthday? Shouldn't such a cost be shared by all taxpayers? Also, a certified cheque to the Receiver General? What is that?
Monday, August 16, 2010
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Good News
I am in need of good news.
It's an observation that has been around as long as mass media. "News" is skewed to show us a world filled with people dying from explosions and the failures of famous people. We are a tortured consumer society gawking at our human-made disasters. But sometimes, when I feel like a scarecrow losing my straw, held together by the thinnest of stitches, I look for something else. Not fluff but a joyful celebration. Someone is going to make a fortune with an online news source called "Good News", reporting stories like this:
One Year Old Child Invents Hug
A small child in Wasaga Beach (my niece) designed a new type of loving physical connection. In a spur of the moment decision young Andie turned the world of hugging upside down, taking the classic expression of love in a bold new direction. The child was walking outside, followed by the family dog who shares an undying bond with her since she's allowed to give him treats. When Andie was asked by her mother if she wanted to hug the dog the young genius responded with a gesture that still has local residents buzzing. Instead of using her arms in the traditional approach she walked to the side of the dog, bending at the waist and touching her head to the dog's back. She rested her forehead there, hands free, for a while to let the dog know that they shared a connection.
It's an observation that has been around as long as mass media. "News" is skewed to show us a world filled with people dying from explosions and the failures of famous people. We are a tortured consumer society gawking at our human-made disasters. But sometimes, when I feel like a scarecrow losing my straw, held together by the thinnest of stitches, I look for something else. Not fluff but a joyful celebration. Someone is going to make a fortune with an online news source called "Good News", reporting stories like this:
One Year Old Child Invents Hug
A small child in Wasaga Beach (my niece) designed a new type of loving physical connection. In a spur of the moment decision young Andie turned the world of hugging upside down, taking the classic expression of love in a bold new direction. The child was walking outside, followed by the family dog who shares an undying bond with her since she's allowed to give him treats. When Andie was asked by her mother if she wanted to hug the dog the young genius responded with a gesture that still has local residents buzzing. Instead of using her arms in the traditional approach she walked to the side of the dog, bending at the waist and touching her head to the dog's back. She rested her forehead there, hands free, for a while to let the dog know that they shared a connection.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Sleep Paralysis
The first time it happened I was about eighteen. I was lying on my back in bed and I couldn't move my neck. My eyes were open and I could look to my posters of batman and Jim Harbaugh. When my eyes shut I had a zoomed in image of a fat brown rat running in a metal wheel. I kept opening and closing my eyes. Unable to move. Suddenly, I was aware that I wasn't breathing. I tried to shout but I couldn't. I was frantically sending the message for my body to breathe, scream, move but nothing happened. Eventually I woke up.
This is what it feels like. Stop breathing. See how your body feels unnaturally quiet without the rhythm of breath? Then stare at your hand. Pretend you're telling yourself to make a fist but simply watch it ignore your command. That is the exact feeling.
Every six months I get one of these dreams. A few days ago I felt it coming on. I was trying to fall asleep when I found myself looking around the room -not breathing. When I try to will myself out of these situations ("scream!", "breathe!", "get up!") nothing happens. The solution is to relax. Ignore the illusion that I'm not breathing and go to sleep in the dreamworld. The rat has never come back.
*side note. I wanted a picture of a face screaming as it pressed into a sheet. What do I google image to find that?
This is what it feels like. Stop breathing. See how your body feels unnaturally quiet without the rhythm of breath? Then stare at your hand. Pretend you're telling yourself to make a fist but simply watch it ignore your command. That is the exact feeling.
Every six months I get one of these dreams. A few days ago I felt it coming on. I was trying to fall asleep when I found myself looking around the room -not breathing. When I try to will myself out of these situations ("scream!", "breathe!", "get up!") nothing happens. The solution is to relax. Ignore the illusion that I'm not breathing and go to sleep in the dreamworld. The rat has never come back.
*side note. I wanted a picture of a face screaming as it pressed into a sheet. What do I google image to find that?
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
serendipitous Montreal
Tired now. But if I sleep I may sleep through my bus leaving.
Old and new friends. Showed up as a comedy duo needing a third to complete the show. Made the 6 o'clock news in brief clip by performing in the afternoon for a CTV reporter in an empty theater. It looks like no one finds us funny.
The other night I could not find the theater only to hear my name being called. I was rescued by a face I had not expected to see in this city and brought to a magical, sweltering theater to find more pleasant surprises. Then I went to La Banquise and ate poutine.
I climbed a mountain and ended up in a cemetery, walking through a plantation of gravestones, finding myself on the other side consulting a public map that revealed how severe I was lost. Jean Brilliant is a hilarious street with the power to vanish and reappear at a more confusing intersection. At the peak of my misdirection I found forty dollars sitting on the sidewalk. They bought the delicious bagels I am smelling. Like it was planned.
This theater where I have slept turns into party central after a good show. It usually wraps up by 4am. I watched one of the owners clean this building from top to bottom like I have watched the Zamboni clear the ice.
At tonight's party, tongues loosened as alcohol was poured and I overheard discussions on food and incest. Conversation took a turn for the better when a wonderful small world moment led to a refreshing burst of honesty and reflection from a surprise speaker.
Old and new friends. Showed up as a comedy duo needing a third to complete the show. Made the 6 o'clock news in brief clip by performing in the afternoon for a CTV reporter in an empty theater. It looks like no one finds us funny.
The other night I could not find the theater only to hear my name being called. I was rescued by a face I had not expected to see in this city and brought to a magical, sweltering theater to find more pleasant surprises. Then I went to La Banquise and ate poutine.
I climbed a mountain and ended up in a cemetery, walking through a plantation of gravestones, finding myself on the other side consulting a public map that revealed how severe I was lost. Jean Brilliant is a hilarious street with the power to vanish and reappear at a more confusing intersection. At the peak of my misdirection I found forty dollars sitting on the sidewalk. They bought the delicious bagels I am smelling. Like it was planned.
This theater where I have slept turns into party central after a good show. It usually wraps up by 4am. I watched one of the owners clean this building from top to bottom like I have watched the Zamboni clear the ice.
At tonight's party, tongues loosened as alcohol was poured and I overheard discussions on food and incest. Conversation took a turn for the better when a wonderful small world moment led to a refreshing burst of honesty and reflection from a surprise speaker.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Throw that Fight
I attended the T.O. Jam festival this weekend. They provide the space and encouragement to make a video game in three day. It was held at George Brown in three fully equipped rooms.
Before the fest
The theme of the event was missing. Although I discovered most people ignored the theme and made a game they wanted. This was in keeping with the laissez faire spirit of the festival: do whatever you want but finish it.
We thought of a boxer who tried to "miss convincingly" to throw his fights. Our concept was to build a rhythm game (like Rhythm Heaven DS) combined with a puzzler (like Henry Hatsworth DS).
During the fest
-We worked in a beautiful college computer lab surrounded by thirty other programmers. Our team, Andrew Gardner and teh Andrew Gardner Group of Companies, sat side-by-side at one long table, working together but separately. Three was the perfect number for a team.
-The demographic was mostly young, male, awkward social skills and weak jokes. It was easy to overlook all of these traits because of the passion, camaraderie, and skill evident in each room. The people I met were kind, humble, and friendly.
-At the end of the second day they fed us free Chinese food. There was more than enough for everyone. I was impressed by the organization of the festival.
-Our first programmer, Andrew, had experimented with pygame. He built the rhythm component and a handler for cutscenes.
-Our second programmer, my brother Andrew, was new to pygame and was crafting our puzzler component. We made the mistake, mostly to my insistence, of picking a poorly-thought-out-overly-complex puzzle game. My brother figured out a brilliant, simple solution during the festival but there was not enough time to get it done for the final version.
-We had a vision that the graphics of the game should be raw, black and white sketches so the whole game would look like storyboards. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any of my talented artist friends. For me, the turning point of the festival was when I turned to my team and apologized for not being able to find a real talent to do graphics. My brother shrugged and said "you're our graphics guy." Then I really set to work.
-Deadline was 8pm. We ate free pizza, a raffle was held (two of us won headphones... what?), and we got to see everyone else's game. I wrote down the titles of my favourites. I'll do a follow-up post when they put them all online. There will also be an arcade where they play the games at a bar, showcasing each on on the big screen.
After the fest
-I laughed at my brother because his eyes erupted after the second day but mine also went extreme bloodshotty last night. I think I need a break from pixels.
Before the fest
The theme of the event was missing. Although I discovered most people ignored the theme and made a game they wanted. This was in keeping with the laissez faire spirit of the festival: do whatever you want but finish it.
We thought of a boxer who tried to "miss convincingly" to throw his fights. Our concept was to build a rhythm game (like Rhythm Heaven DS) combined with a puzzler (like Henry Hatsworth DS).
The story is set in 1885, following a kindhearted bare knuckle boxer who helps people by throwing his fights.
During the fest
-We worked in a beautiful college computer lab surrounded by thirty other programmers. Our team, Andrew Gardner and teh Andrew Gardner Group of Companies, sat side-by-side at one long table, working together but separately. Three was the perfect number for a team.
-The demographic was mostly young, male, awkward social skills and weak jokes. It was easy to overlook all of these traits because of the passion, camaraderie, and skill evident in each room. The people I met were kind, humble, and friendly.
-At the end of the second day they fed us free Chinese food. There was more than enough for everyone. I was impressed by the organization of the festival.
-Our first programmer, Andrew, had experimented with pygame. He built the rhythm component and a handler for cutscenes.
-Our second programmer, my brother Andrew, was new to pygame and was crafting our puzzler component. We made the mistake, mostly to my insistence, of picking a poorly-thought-out-overly-complex puzzle game. My brother figured out a brilliant, simple solution during the festival but there was not enough time to get it done for the final version.
-We had a vision that the graphics of the game should be raw, black and white sketches so the whole game would look like storyboards. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any of my talented artist friends. For me, the turning point of the festival was when I turned to my team and apologized for not being able to find a real talent to do graphics. My brother shrugged and said "you're our graphics guy." Then I really set to work.
-Deadline was 8pm. We ate free pizza, a raffle was held (two of us won headphones... what?), and we got to see everyone else's game. I wrote down the titles of my favourites. I'll do a follow-up post when they put them all online. There will also be an arcade where they play the games at a bar, showcasing each on on the big screen.
After the fest
Our work schedule:
-Day 1: 6pm - 4am
-Day 2: 10am - 4am
-Day 3: 10am - 8pm. We worked until the last minute.
-I arrived home around 11:30pm. Andrew came and we showcased the game to Liz. She beat it in four tries. It was exactly what we were hoping for.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Quoted
This is an interview I gave via email for an upcoming comedy festival that I'm performing in. Can you guess which chosen few of my many words ran in the article? Her questions, my answers.
How and why did you get into comedy?
It starts at the dinner table. The family laughs and a little attention monster is born, always feeding, never satisfied. I've always had supportive friends and family so I have had plenty of opportunity to develop my comedy barometer. In university, it was my sketch comedy and improv director, Mike "Nug" Nahrgang, who showed us how easy it was to craft a show, book a venue, and perform. Now I perform at the Comedy Bar with my sketch group Elephant Empire once a month.
Who do you think will like your routine?
It appears you’re connected with some of the other groups that are also coming to Guelph. Explain those connections. Will it feel like old home week, seeing some old buddies?
Don't you have an imaginary name that you feel an unexplainable attachment to? It started because stage names are fun. I force everyone in Elephant Empire (my sketch group) to choose one. That way I get to work with people like Mort Swindle and Claxico Anfrostellar and not with my boring friends. Also, it has advantageous in the Age of Google, search for my real name and you'll find a really popular car designer guy.
The article.
http://news.guelphmercury.com/arts/article/617442
Answer key:
"Between the slice-of-life appeal of Corner Gas and the silliness of Monty Python, we're closer to the latter. Although, I think I care more about my audience "getting it"." (paraphrased)
"I find myself laughing at reality then I remember it's real and I get scared. Like what Justin Bieber sings about. Sometimes I think tweenagers singing about love is a sketch I dreamed up. I still can't believe the Iraq War was sold on the punchline of weapons of mass destruction. Did that really happen? I guess laugh a lot at injustice. "
How and why did you get into comedy?
It starts at the dinner table. The family laughs and a little attention monster is born, always feeding, never satisfied. I've always had supportive friends and family so I have had plenty of opportunity to develop my comedy barometer. In university, it was my sketch comedy and improv director, Mike "Nug" Nahrgang, who showed us how easy it was to craft a show, book a venue, and perform. Now I perform at the Comedy Bar with my sketch group Elephant Empire once a month.
How would you describe what you do on stage?
We like imagination. Our sketches take place in outer space or quicksand traps often poking fun at people being petty. Between the slice-of-life appeal of Corner Gas and the silliness of Monty Python, we're closer to the latter. Although, I think I care more about my audience "getting it". There's a small part of me that always wants my parents to enjoy the show.
Who do you think will like your routine?
Our target demographic is the female, self-employed, small pet owners between the ages of 80-85. Seriously, everyone likes the lifeguard sketch. And milk. You will all laugh at milk. And the Benson family remix. I think you're all going to like it.
What kind of thing makes you laugh?
I find myself laughing at reality then I remember it's real and I get scared. Like what Justin Bieber sings about. Sometimes I think tweenagers singing about love is a sketch I dreamed up. I still can't believe the Iraq War was sold on the punchline of weapons of mass destruction. Did that really happen? I guess laugh a lot at injustice.
Have you been to Guelph before?
I've been to Guelph a few times. Jeff Bersche, one of the festival organizers, was my high school improv coach. Occasionally, I do improv workshops with his team.
Many of the people in this festival are some of my favourite performers in the comedy scene. I see most of them on a semi-regular basis. I've done shows with half of them. Three of them I play floor hockey with. Two of them I asked to open for me. One I saw earlier today to discuss her new improv project.
Do you think people laugh as much as they need to? Has the recession made us all a bunch of grumps?
I don't get to see the grumps. I get to see people who come to a comedy show, they want to laugh. I think the recession made people stay in, watching an extra video of a cat sneezing on YouTube instead of going out to a live show. But we can only stay in our caves for so long. I'm a firm believer that if you see us once you'll be hooked. I think any performer worth seeing thinks the same thing. We'll turn you into an addict, recession or not, you'll sell your child's bike to see us.
I guess Peter is your real name. Where did Nemo Dally come from?
The article.
http://news.guelphmercury.com/arts/article/617442
Answer key:
"Between the slice-of-life appeal of Corner Gas and the silliness of Monty Python, we're closer to the latter. Although, I think I care more about my audience "getting it"." (paraphrased)
"I find myself laughing at reality then I remember it's real and I get scared. Like what Justin Bieber sings about. Sometimes I think tweenagers singing about love is a sketch I dreamed up. I still can't believe the Iraq War was sold on the punchline of weapons of mass destruction. Did that really happen? I guess laugh a lot at injustice. "
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Text Search
The ability to run a search for words (try ctrl+f in your browser) has changed our relationship with the written word.
OCR (Optical Character Recognition -thank you Liz) has made it possible to text search books. That, more than anything else, will cause the death of the page and the rise of the ebook.
It's funny, my great great grand, to live in this technological time. Will you hold and read a paper book?
OCR (Optical Character Recognition -thank you Liz) has made it possible to text search books. That, more than anything else, will cause the death of the page and the rise of the ebook.
It's funny, my great great grand, to live in this technological time. Will you hold and read a paper book?
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