I’m doin’ it. I’m taking the plunge. I’m shifting my paradigms. I’m, uh…folding my balloon?* I’ve decided to do as my brother is doing (as little brothers so often do)…I’m ripping all my CDs (I have around 500) to my 40GB Nomad, to go along with the ~1300 MP3s I already so that a) I can have my entire music collection in my pocket, and b) I can put my CDs in a box and save myself a ton of room). This is a huge thing for me. I’m about as emotionally attached to my CDs as a person can be to inanimate objects; this is like locking kittens in a cage in the basement. Kinda.

I got started today. I ordered a 120GB hard drive, with which I’ll store all my MP3s (not to mention pictures). Once it arrives I’ll start ripping and transferring to the Nomad. Hooyah.

* I dunno.

The Ballad Of Springhill

Weird. I’m listening to U2 singing a song about a town near where I grew up. It was written by Peggy Seeger about the coal mining disaster of 1958 (and previous disasters as well, I suppose).

It’s the same town that Anne Murray is from, but if I were from Springhill (and thank god I’m not…it’s almost as ugly as Sydney) I’d find it much cooler that U2 had covered a song about my town.

Movies to warm my heart

But, really, for completely different reasons. And hell, one of these isn’t even a movie.

  • We watched the first two episodes of Season Two of The Wire (imdb) and, despite struggling to figure out what the hell’s going on, fell right back in love with it. It’s hardly heartwarming, except for the fact that I missed this show terribly and now I have several more episodes on the way from Zip.
  • Last night we went to see Sideways (imdb | rotten tomatoes). Man, I never crave wine and after that movie…I was craving wine. Unfortunately we have none at home and it was late on a Sunday night; we considered going to 7 West for a glass, but we would’ve ordered some dessert so we thought it best to avoid temptation. Anyway, the movie: the movie, and the characters, seemed to me as close to art (in the classical sense) as a movie could get. By that, I mean that the characters — and the movie itself — are dense, and take time & patience to understand. They’re difficult and complex and transparent all at once. “Masterful” is about the only word I can think of.


An open letter to Bill Casey, MP (Cumberland-Colchester-Musquodoboit, NS):

Mr. Casey,

While reading a Chronicle Herald story on Bill C-38, I was greatly disappointed to find that you plan to vote “no” on Bill C-38. As someone who grew up in Cumberland County but now lives in another province, I’ve watched with a measure of pride as Nova Scotia has become more accepting of homosexuality, becoming more accepting and, I believe, progressive. However, my pride is now tempered by the fear that your decision will serve only to hold back the province — and indeed the entire country — from this next step in realizing what Canada should aspire to be: rational, intelligent, understanding and inclusive.

The old saw of “different but equal” is an unacceptable position. Orwell beat you to such doublespeak decades ago. Please, I implore you to look beyond what tradition dictates, to detach yourself from the politics of the moment and reflect on the history of such decisions. Think of how politicians in conservative regions of conservative provinces must have voted on human rights issues in the past, and of how history will remember them only for clinging to a bygone tradition in the face of evolving social justice.

Sir, while I do not know you personally, I have heard that you’re a good man, one who does his best to lead your constituents. I humbly ask that when it comes time to vote on this bill, you do just that: lead them. Whether you lead them forward or in a circle is up to you.

Plenty o' hornpipe? Maybe too much?

Exclaim magazine is dead on: the East Coast Music Awards focus too much on one particular style of music: Celtic folk. Growing up in Nova Scotia, I developed a healthy disliking for most maritimey fiddle-pop (Great Big Sea, The Rankins, etc.) because it drowned out practically every other genre of music, some of which I thought were worthwhile. Sure, for a while there Halifax was a little hotbed of indie rock when it became the first in a long line of “The New Seattle” cities, a title which Montreal now seems to be sporting. But by and large, the celtic mafia rules.

I mean, really. Would it hurt them to give an award to buck 65? Or Joel Plaskett? Christ, even The Trews would be better than Great Big Shite…