Jesus is magic and the root of all evil

I watched two very different things this weekend. The most recent was Sarah Silverman: Jesus Is Magic (imdb | rotten tomatoes), which I was a little disappointed by. Sarah Silverman is obviously very talented and funny and (at times) hot, but there were precious few times that I laughed. Some bits were so profane that she managed to get that slightly uneasy chuckle out of me, but that was about it. The best part of the DVD was the five-minute clip of her in The Aristocrats; everything else just seemed a little too contrived in its fearlessness.

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The other film I watched was a documentary on CBC Newsworld’s new series The Big Picture, where Avi Lewis watches a documentary with a bunch of people and then they all discuss it. Sounds boring, I know, but the topic this past week was Richard Dawkins’ documentary The Root Of All Evil: The God Delusion. A lot of the crowd — made up of regular folks but also “experts” like ministers, imams, professors, etc. — didn’t like the way Dawkins went about making his point, but most of the people either agreed in the end or made arguments so illogical that one could barely argue with them. One example from a minister and politician: “I think God is love; would you deny that love exists?” Well, I could declare that god is buttered popcorn; that doesn’t really prove much. But the real low point of the evening was surely Charles McVety, president of the Canada Christian College. Even the clergy were turning on him by the end. The whole thing plays again this evening on Newsworld if you’re interested, or you can view the debate online and witness the migrainish hilarity firsthand.

This coming Wednesday the topic is a Sir David Attenborough documentary about global warming. Should be a good one.

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Actually, I guess I watched a third thing this weekend: Jericho, the new CBS show about a small Colorado town that’s plunged into darkness, fear and uncertainty when a mushroom cloud appears on the horizon, roundabouts where Denver should be. By the end of the first episode they also learn that [spoiler alert] a bomb’s gone off in Atlanta, and that a small child can make a remarkably neat trach tube from a handful of pens and a rubber band in a matter of seconds. Anyway, it’s an interesting enough premise, but the show was prone to hammy acting, predictable scenarios (prodigal sons, lost loves, overturned prison buses, etc.) and speech-making that just bogged it down. I’ll probably give it another week or two, but it’s on a short leash.

[tags]sarah silverman, jesus is magic, cbc newsworld, the big picture, richard dawkins, religion, root of all evil, god delusion, charles mcvety, david attenborough, global warming, jericho[/tags]

96.74%

Scott Adams’ post on his Dilbert blog this morning nearly made me spit scrambled eggs. Same with The Onion.

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Another trip down memory lane today: a movie adaptation of The Stone Angel is being made, the Margaret Laurence book we read in grade twelve. The director claims there’s lots of sex; I don’t remember it being like that, but I guess it was 13 years ago.

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Okey doke, I’m off to write an exam. Wish me luck.

[tags]dilbert blog, the onion, the stone angel, exam[/tags]

84.07%

OK, the book-learnin’ is done. All that’s left now is to write the exam. I’m not worried; I reviewed the stuff over the last couple of nights and I believe we know this stuff better than we think we do. That’s the sign of a good prof. I could tell others in the class didn’t like her, but some people will always whine when they come up against a prof who expects a lot.

Oooh, and Thursday night’s pizza night. Sweeeeeet…

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In other news entirely, I just took a trip down memory lane courtesy of this post at Cinematical. It’s about an old Warner Brothers cartoon called Duck Amuck, which they describe thusly: “You can argue whether the film is postmodern, deconstructionist, ahead of its time … but it’s inarguably hilarious.” I agree; I used to watch it as a kid and think, “This is probably even funnier than I think it is.” I should watch it again the next time I’m home on the farm.

[tags]mba, exam, pizza, duck amuck[/tags]

Is that a vampire nun?

This post borrows liberally from two sites I pilfered from my brother.

First, after following the link in the weird little strip he designed, I decided to make my own. I suggest you do the same.

Second, this unsettling link from badscience — a site my brother pointed me to — talks about how the UK is changing regulation of homeopathic remedies to allow them to make medical claims without evidence. I’d hate to see Canada make a similar move, for fear that people would equate homeopathic remedies with actual medical treatment. More than they do now, I mean.

[tags]strip generator, badscience, homeopathy, mhra[/tags]

Coniption fit

In the summer of 1992 (I think…it might’ve been 1991) my friend Adam and I attended a rock music camp in Halifax. It was called Summer Rock, and lasted two weeks. I think they made it into a CBC TV show a few years ago. Anyway, we crashed on the floor of my oldest brother, TimmyD, who was attending TUNS (now called DalTech) at the time. The rock camp itself was…meh. The most interesting thing about it was that another bunch of teenagers calling themselves Thrush Hermit were there. It was weird to see them get a record deal long after I’d sold my drums for tuition money.

Two great things happened on that trip though:

First, it felt like the first time my oldest brother and I really hung out. He’s 6 years older than I, and when you’re a teenager your little kid brother isn’t who you hang out with. But I guess that summer when I was 16 or 17 I was a little less annoying or a little more interesting to be around, and we just hung out one weekend when Adam was away…we went to see Terminator 2 at the Park Lane theatre, went to his old computer lab at St. Mary’s and played computer games against each other from across the room (which was pretty killer technology at the time)…it all seemed pretty cool to a deeply uncool kid.

Second, Adam had his acoustic guitar at my brother’s place (I couldn’t carry my drums around with me, obviously, so I left them at the school where the camp was held). One night, for some reason, Tim decided to write some lyrics and pulled out a harmonica, and an impromptu jam session broke out in the tiny apartment on Tobin Street. At the time I used to carry around a little hand-held tape recorder, which Adam and I were constantly recording stuff on, and I left it running for most of the night. I couldn’t do much but throw in the occasional leg-slapping beat if the song called for it, but Tim & Adam turned out some truly…remarkable stuff. And by remarkable, I mean batshit insane. One song was described as “freestyle open-verse nebulous note lyrical associative disenchanted lyricism”, another was a country stomp, and there was even an attempt at Bee-Gees style disco. I caught everything on tape, and labeled the tape “Coniption Fit”. Yes, I know now that I misspelled “conniption”.

Adam and I went back to work on my Dad’s farm that summer after the camp, bringing the tape back with us, and listening to it almost daily as we descended into fits of laughter. That was our last summer working together, I think, and we soon graduated from high school and went our separate. From then on, as a matter of course, after each year or before each big move, I would throw out anything that I didn’t use or care about, but I always kept that tape. I kept it through four years at Dalhousie, then brought it to Toronto, to three different apartments, even after I no longer had anything that could play tapes, always meaning to convert it to CD (or, more recently, MP3). I never got around to it.

Then, last month, when my other brother was visiting, he mentioned that he could do it for me. I handed over the tape, and not long after he sent the converted wav file. I listened to it a few days ago, for the first time in years, and felt 16 again. Not that I enjoyed being 16; I disliked it intensely. But the memory of those two weeks is one of my happiest.

So thanks, Tim & Adam, for making something so hilarious with me in the room. Thanks, Andrew, for rescuing it for me. Here’s to friends and brothers, and better yet, the combination of the two.

[tags]brothers, friends, summer rock, halifax, dalhousie, coniption fit[/tags]

Telephone poles, excetera

It seems Aliant, phone provider for Atlantic Canada, has found a way to get another $2 million out of Rogers using just a comma. Those maritimers are sneaky. [via Rocketboom]

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Yourdictionary.com has published their list of the 100 most mispronounced English words. I’m guilty a few of these; I guess I have a ways to go with my grammar. At least I don’t say nucular. [via Yes But No But Yes]
[tags]aliant, rogers, mispronounced words[/tags]

"Jim Henson knew his place"

For the sake of my waistline, I really need my family to stop visiting Toronto. Last night we took another brother and his wife to Fieramosca — our second visit in as many Saturdays — and left the place stuffed, as always. The staff actually ribbed us a bit, saying “OK, see you tomorrow night!” as we left. Smartasses. I had the salsiccia e quaglia alla griglia, a sausage & quail plate that TimmyD got last week (which I just had to try), my brother had the linguine di mama ninetta (a favourite of T-Bone’s), and the ladies shared the seafood pasta for 2. The hostess Mani (sp?) gave us some Tiramisu to keep us busy while the ladies had their after-dinner glass of Amarone. 3.5 hours later, we managed to waddle home. Oy.

Sadly, we didn’t get to spend much more time than that with them. They arrived mid-afternoon, after trying to deal with some lost luggage, and after we got some food into them the ladies went shopping while my brother and I sat and Starbucks and caught up on things. Then we popped down to Henry’s to find them a new digital camera (and may have found one ourselves: the Canon S3 IS), swung by the condo to have a look, strolled down to Front Street and then came back up on the subway (fighting for seats with Indy fans) to relax before dinner. While relaxing we put it on Just For Laughs — there was really nothing else on — and saw a very bizarre, very funny ventriloquist act by Nina Conti…it was weird to see this beautiful woman do a surrealist comedy act with a smarmy monkey. Anyway. Good fun, but it’s too bad they could only stick around for half a day.

Now then…to find a salad…

[tags]fieramosca, henry’s, nina conti, molson indy[/tags]