Pull the Plug/A Lighting Chance
An opinion piece that was published in The Other Press:
I find that the more time I spend at Douglas College, the more my resentment grows towards fluorescent light tubes. Glaring down from their parallel fixtures, they force harsh artificial light onto the students below. These lights are ruthless and unflattering, and like rows of soldiers with an ominous purpose they crush the attempts of personal beauty the occupants of their room have tried to conjure. Highlighting imperfections the students thought that they had hidden, the fluorescent tubes of terror prove that resistance is futile against such a secretly malignant, yet inescapable, force.
Perhaps it would not be so bad if the lights in one classroom were consistent. But instead, in any chosen room staff and students will find that different tubes emit a different shade of sickness. Take room 3343 in New West for example. A brighter, more yellow sheen is produced on the left side of the room, which gives any unsuspecting student a lovely aura of jaundice. Yet, on the right, a pinker hue awaits its victims, and with it the false appearance of facial rosacea.
With all this built up resentment towards this specific light source, one may think that I would wish them all an untimely end. However, considering that the lights are all shielded by a protective layer, (no doubt to save them from folk like me), the only other way to defeat them would be to wait until they burn out on their own. But that too poses no resolution, as fluorescent light tubes do not die without a fight. You will never see a tube succumb to old age peacefully, and they will flicker with protest for weeks and months. Not satisfied after a life of harshening features and offering eye-sore induced headaches, the incessant random strobe light effect of an expiring fluorescent tube will try to take the unfortunate people below with it by annoying them to suicide.
Sadly, the fluorescent tube is here to stay, our indoor, electrical society ensuring its survival. And as our dependence on artificially manufactured elements shines brighter, it brings to mind how we will never have a lighting chance against them.
Poem
This poem can be found in the self-published book, Passion Before Perfection:
Paper bulbs blossom into words.
Each leaf, a splintered thought that broke away
from the mind
that had the strength to plant it.
From idea to invention,
alphabet letters are scattered in the wind and left
to their own development,
having to contend with the jargon, slang and gibberish
that entangle,
and try to force the life,
from meaningful text.
Nurtured, and allowed to grow freely,
pollinated poetry will seed and spread
embedding inspiration
into the fertile beds of brain
that are open enough to allow
the winds of change to pass through.
Middle East Infection
The following article was published in The Other Press in October 2006:
Do not get me wrong…
I am a Canadian, and I support our Canadian military troops wherever they may be sent. However, this does not mean I support every mission that may be imposed on the young men and women that are serving a government that may be betraying them. I support the soldiers’ lives and rights, and both are being lost at an increasing rate throughout Afghanistan.
Perhaps the swirling sands of the Middle East have blinded the Canadian government, which would explain why Steven Harper has had to grasp onto George Bush’s hand to lead him though this political storm. But the news reports that relay from Afghanistan counter the Conservative’s call for a continuance of Canadian troops in the area. Even if the media were attempting to focus on any of the positive aspects of the mission, it would be hard to ignore the fact that swarms of the Afghani people are cheering when one of our soldiers is blown up by one of the terrorists that are supposedly plaguing their country. This is not usually how a public shows its gratitude for soldiers whom are giving their lives to aid in their “freedom”. The fact that we have witnessed Afghanis celebrating, instead of building memorials, in the wake of a soldier’s death is a not-so-subtle hint that the mission is fruitless…so why are we continuing to offer more lives to a war where gratitude is scarce and the end seems impossible?
Seeking out the Taliban in the dusty mountains of the Middle East may seem like the proactive approach; and, it would definitely correspond to our anthem’s call for standing on guard for our country, far and wide. But while all of our resources are being worn thin on the other side of the world, doesn’t that leave our homeland open and defenseless? With all money on military matters, do healthcare and other heavy hitting issues get postponed/cancelled?
With each passing day, Canada seems to forget that the continent that we reside in is called North America, not just America, and that the “True North, strong and free” included in our anthem is what separates us from the “rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air” of the United States’ “Star-Spangled Banner”.
Driftwood
The following poem was published in The Other Press in October, and can be found in the self-published book Passion Before Perfection:
Firm, streamlined features
caught up in a swirling storm
Branches fall
Chemically induced nature systematically destroys nature
and the broken nails
in the middle of it all
continue to catch on everything
that they can
Perhaps, they too are just attempting to ground themselves
The hail begins to pelt bodies
that would soon welt
All will not be calm this night
Windows shivering
with the fussing gusts
of an angry wind that will not relent
Rain gliding cars outside
reminiscent
of the ocean’s waves
that rolled across my ears
as I drifted off
amongst driftwood
in a tent on the beach
The storms had been subtle then
Now, at full bore
invading sleep
that they had welcomed
before
Textual Praise and Cursive Curses
Written word signifies the beginning (a birth certificate) and the end (a death certificate) of a human life. Between those two important documents, a person creates and comes into contact with volumes upon volumes of written words, words that have shaped the Earth enough for one to state, in truth, that he who possesses the power of prose is the closest comparison that we have to a physical god. The written word has been created and mastered by humans alone, and in turn humans have gone on to collectively conquer the world.
Text is the main factor that separates humans from other animals, and it has allowed humans to communicate with others in ways no illiterate creature ever could. Conveying its message to one person or millions, to those in the room or across the world, written and typed script has the ability to aid in great decisions, choices that some would say were only meant for the gods.
Writing has allowed us to document history, to create permanent records of lives and stories that were before at the mercy of verbal storytelling and memory. This provides someone with a basis for his or her culture and behaviours, and instils in them a sense of pride of family and country, helping to unite those under common ancestries. Words that withstand the test of time are important to those who must learn from the past to ensure earlier mistakes are not repeated. Just as the lasting quality of pen is preferred to pencil; mistakes cannot be erased, but will be learned from if they can be read and reviewed for hundreds of years.
Those that can provide people with written accounts of their work that endure over time can ensure themselves a sort of immortality. We remember Shakespeare for his many plays, but we will never know of the woman who served him lunch, or the man who lived beside him. Chopin is known for his beautiful compositions, but countless others died without recognition because they never utilized the power of permanence and paper. We hold our scribes and composers in high regard, up with our kings and conquerors, because a great writer does not die, but lives on in his words.
Every human has one last written document; one that once signed signifies the end of that person’s life. One day the Earth may share that same fate, and the stroke of a pen may bring about the execution of human civilization by way of nuclear or biological warfare. But even on that dark day we will not be questioning writing’s worth, because writing is the tool that has aided us in encompassing the ultimate power of creating or destroying anything that we can, even ourselves; and that is as close to godliness as you can get.
Titanic Thinking and a Body of Water
The following poerm was published in The Other Press in October:
Titanic Thinking and a Body of Water
Squinting against one thousand suns
that are glinting from one,
reflecting in water murky enough to stand in.
It’s a wonder any light escapes its surface at all…
The wind arrives and begins its stylist ways,
transforming a perfect hair-do back to its primal state.
Walking through fine sand, in the midst of expelled plumage
and vacant crustaceanic condos,
conversation always seems to ebb away with the tide
and thoughts are drawn into the water,
like the debris that thought it was finally beached
but was caught up in the waves once more.
Doomed, or blessed
to continue drifting,
occasionally reaching a temporary shore
until it becomes so smoothed and refined
by a relentless surf
that it is nothing more than a grain of sand.
No different than the millions of others surrounding it,
just younger,
and they have neither time nor patience for their fellow captive.
Although this may have been the most brilliantly beautiful of stones,
now, as a speck amongst specks, it loses the distinctiveness it may have once had.
It awaits the time when the water will have its way with it once more
and it will be pounded into oblivion…
…looking out as the seagulls
coast along the coast…
The present shakes its way back into consciousness,
and it is pondered
that these are just fruitless thoughts
when one is standing next to a body
that goes a thousand times deeper than any human could.
Words
The most human thing about being a human is the utilization of words in communication, effectively linking sound and language in order to aid in the verbalization of thought. Language, and the way it is used by individuals, is acquired from those around them, and from the environment that they are exposed to. As people are immersed in it everyday, language is something that is picked up quickly, and becomes a complex action that is simplified over a short period of time.
As humans grow and evolve over years, so does the language that they speak. New words and expressions are constantly being created. For example, with over 40, 000 words in the English language, statements are expressed at every moment that have never been uttered before. With that many words, there is no limit to the combinations that one person can articulate. Essentially, the more words you know, the better arsenal you possess to produce original statements. With this in mind, there are many phrases that could be used to portray what a word is, but really trying to explain what a word is in words is like a definition defining itself.
As fine-tuned as this method of communication is, there are still grey areas, and structure that requires abiding by limitations. If a picture were worth a thousand words, then most people would prefer to just display a photo rather than describe an image, which may span numerous pages of text. That is where verbal and written language lose their productivity. Finer thought may also be difficult to express through words, and all the while the mind may become distracted or preoccupied with adhering to specific guidelines regarding grammar.
Although other animals may have their own ‘languages’ of squeals and barks, humans are the only ones that have developed a system of syntax, and the only ones to have recorded their thoughts in written form. Being able to communicate this way has given us an edge over other creatures. To express abstract thought, and to plan beyond the season, are not concepts that other living things have the chance to indulge upon, and to truly live and move past mere existence is a luxury that we owe mostly to the deep thought that only a human’s complicated mind can generate; these thoughts are then reiterated through our refined system of words.
