A Romantic Hater's Valentine's Day Wish

"Love can be as sticky as a vat of molasses, as unpalatable as a hunk of spoiled yeast, and as all-consuming as a six-alarm fire in a bamboo and canvas tent." - Rod Serling, "Twilight Zone"


Happy Valentine's Day, Suckas.

The Occasional Rant - Well, I Knew It Had To End, Somehow.

There are a few things that are certain and guaranteed in life.

Death is one of them.

Paying taxes is another one (just ask any average working stiff about that).

Growing old is yet another one.

So I'm not shedding any tears for the demise of the "Trailer Park Boys" for the simple reason that the show has run its course.

I knew for the fact that one way or another, Ricky, Julian, Bubbles and company will grow up.

I knew that Season 7 would be the final one.

You could see the outcome in the last episode: the trio hardly smiled throughout the series, yet in the very last scene, they all found an epiphany, a closure, a new beginning.

It may also be because that final episode of that season featured one of the last appearances of Denny Doherty of the Mamas and Papas (and the "Theodore Tugboat" series, BTW).

There is something about the number 7 being the lucky number.

Maybe after 7 years of bad luck, the beleaguered denizens of Sunnyvale Trailer Park were just looking forward to moving on, beyond the bottle tossing, the dope growing, J-Roc's endless schemes and 'hood intentions, Lucy's fake boobs, stray kitties, Julian's ubiquitous rum'n'coke (check out the original "Trailer Park Boys" movie for the origin - it ain't that pretty), Randy's well-exposed cheeseburger-belly...

Maybe, it's because we all grew up, out and beyond.

We could all relate to the people at Sunnyvale: they were like us, with faults, shortcomings, dreams, ambitions.

But there could only be so many stories to create, tell, portray. Eventually, everything that had to be said and done, has been filmed, edited, released, syndicated, put out on DVD and shown again in edited reruns.

So, thanks and G-d Bless to all those who participated for one fucking hell of a good run.

TBP was part of the spirit of the age. Let's keep it that way.

Because, eventually, we'll soon get too old for that shit.

The Occasional Rant -... and you know why they call it the "Chronically Horrid"!

Now read this.

Last night, I told you that Hali's Ellen Page has taken home the Golden Popcorn for her portrayal of a pregnant teen in "Juno".

After experiencing serious pwnage by Marion Cotillard at the Golden Globes and the Oscars earlier this year, Ellen, in her own understated way, thanked the peeps that created the surreal comedic drama. Now that was a class act.

Now you would think that everyone in the Halifax Regional Municipality, from Musquodobit Harbour to Peggy's Cove and beyonder, would big-up the young, native Bluenoser for pwning bigger, more notorious starlets such as Jessica Biel ("I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry"), Katherine Heigl ("Knocked Up"), Amy Adams ("Enchanted") and Keira Knightley ("Pirates of the Caribbean") - who, with all due respect, each deserve a Popcorn for their troubles.

But, as of now, so-far, not much peepage from the media.

Now it's true that many people are getting bored of the smarmy ass-kiss atmosphere present in all award shows. But when one of our own shows up as a nominee, we get "googoo gaga" retarded. And right about now, one news outlet has the opportunity of saying in large print, "ELLEN HAS POPCORN!"

As of right now, the Chronicle Herald is the only paper in Halifax to do that.

In fact, it is the only paper in Halifax. Period.

To be fair, there are two other tabloids on the scene. The Metro was born out of the ashes of the late, lamented Daily News. The Coast offers an independent (read: "progressive") take on local-to-global issues. But neither of them could match the juggernaut that is one of North America's oldest dailies.

So why did the CH drop the ball when Ellen won?

It's one thing to respect your neighbour's privacy - Ellen is our neighbour, after all - but a least one passing acknowledgment should be in order.

Forget the fact that there's more on the go in Ms. Page's life and career. Forget the all the lesbian rumours. Even forget the fact that for many people, Ellen will still be known best as Treena Lahey, Hayley Stark or even little Maggie MacLean in the Canadian family series "Pit Pony".

What's really important is that Ellen gets some props from the only paper in town. And that paper ain't even saying a tiny "boo".

Oh well. Life goes on, even if it's depicted by the Chronically Horrid.

Next...

Where I'm at...June '08 edition

Well... another Sunday. Another start of a grueling work week.

And for some strange reason, I'm so amped.

So here are a few plans that need to be taken care of.

Prioritizing can be a bitch, but this is the best that I can come up.

And if none of this makes any sense, it's because I'm making them all up on the fly.

• Thank goodness for obsessive compulsion!
  I found out that I did back up my website on some DVDs after all!
  Now I've got to find a good, reliable and cheap server to hold all this stuff.
  The sooner I get it, the better.
  The problem is that money is always too tight, and settling in a strange city full of strangers require setting up a certain quality of life.
  So for now, world conquest is on hold.


• For those who do not yet know, I have a YouTube Channel called "The Jacques Treatment".
  It's just like this blog, but this time you get to know a little more about me and how I manage the method of madness.
  Currently, I'm mapping out a couple of projects with 3 cams, several pages full of scribblings and a fevered imagination.
  Not unlike this blog.
  So drop in, subscribe and hopefully we could all start a revolution, one vid at a time, one day at a time.
  And by the way - don't forget my friends. They're all waiting for you. Now.
  
  
• Last year, my bike was stolen.
  Since I sold my car back in '06, the bike had been my means of transportation, and has help me keep my weight down.
  But in early '07, some heartless fucker managed to bypass the Kryptonute locking system and jack my ride.
  This year, I'm being a little more careful.
  Even though my crib is a bit cramped as it is, I'm keeping my new ride inside.
  Which is all the better: the area, while not considered bad by urban standards, has its share of hooligans.
  The other day, the apartment building's front door's Plexiglas had been smashed. The adjacent window was also smashed.
  Who knows what kind of shit goes down in the hood, but I'm not budging for the next little while.
  After all, moving is quite expensive, and I'm trying to keep everything under budget.
  

Anyways... I'm tired, thirsty and ready to crash in a major way. Stay safe.

JacqueSnack - If J-Roc had a sister...

she'd probably be like this.

Snapshot: Page still pwns our hearts!

The lady who played la Môme Piaf pwned the Golden doorstop for best actress.

I was expecting Julie Christie, but Marion Cotillard looked nice.

Thank goodness I've quit betting a long time ago... the race is tighter than a dead miser's fist.

As for Ellen... keep on trucking and you'll be pwning, Kid.

The Occasional Rant - No Sleep! / Page Centre Stage / iPhone: the Prepaid Conundrum

And so here we go...

1. I'll sleep when I'm dead! I always have this thing about days when I don't have to go to work.
   
   I've made it a point to take advantage of the sunlight to do stuff, like making entries like this.
   
   The problem is, my body could only take so much abuse that as much as I want to get on to a second, third or fourth wind, my wee brain starts thinking otherwise.
   
   This usually happens when I work the graveyard or late evening shifts. After work there would be a lengthy period of decompression where I would gather my thoughts and make plans for the next day. This goes everything against all that I've learned in my 12-step programs.
   
   The more I worry, the more I do junk, then...
   
   zzzzzzz...
   
   
2. HEADS! The Wooden Monkey on Argyle might be getting more than a few more customers after tonight.
   Not all people running around with cameras will be tourists.
   And someone might wind up lurking area high schools for the next big thing.
   Ellen Page's star is rising fast. Faster than a Victoria-class sub in an emergency, faster than an old-school ICBM.
   On a personal level, the Monkey is a very nice place. Most of the dishes are natural, organic and locally produced. Last time I was there they had the veggie gyoza and this tofu cheesecake that is to kill for. What the hell is going to happen to the place when the stalkerazzi descend on Halifax like famished locusts?
   And I feel for some of the students at the schools Ellen attended. I fear that some goon from Access Hollywood or Extra will push for some dirt on the kid from people who may have had the slightest passing acquaintance.
   If Ellen were to win the Oscar, one can bet that there will be expectations galore. Expectations for bigger, more demanding roles. If she could take the heat, all the power to her and everything else. But people worry about what might happen if/when the hype hits the fan. And Hollywood, being a town of jaded elders, eats its young like candy.
   Thankfully, Ellen seems to have a good head on her shoulders, and she should keep it if the heat turns up.
   I still think that Julie Christie or Marion Cotillard will pwn the paperweight. I'll find out tonight.
   
   
3. iPhone - not a goddamn toy. For those people stateside who are hungering for Apple's latest gift to humankind, a word of advice.
   Don't try to aim for prepaid service.
   Especially if you have good credit.
   First, prepaid is more expensive than a contract service. You are actually paying more green for less service than you think. The lowest contract price actually offers you more than the lowest prepaid price (monthly prepaid plan rate + 19.99/month for data). Check that one out. Plus you get to do some roaming with a contract. Prepaid customers don't have that privilege. Sorry, boss.
   Secondly, and most importantly, you're getting the same damn service, security and responsibility as contract people.
   If you know that your credit is royally fubar, iTunes would let you know, then give you a choice of going to the nearest AT&T store or going prepaid. It's that simple.
   If I were you, I'd think before I run.
   The saddest thing is that living in Canada, I couldn't get my greasy palms on those babies, yet. Sigh.
   

And so, there you go. Lotsa luck, Ellen.

The Occasional Rant - Belated Happy 21, Treena Lahey!

Back from work. Tired and half-inspired. Here goes...

Belated Happy 21 to Ellen Page.

There's nothing too special about this lady Scotian
But in her craft she emits emotions
Like an alchemist conjuring strange arcane potions
Or Sheherezade working ever faster
To please an ever demanding master

But as I get ready to go to bed
After everything has been said and done
It doesn't matter what you've lost or won
From one jaded expat Torontonian
I salute thee, dear Ellen, thou lady Scotian.

I know it's kinda sucky and hokey. But I had a long day. And the next 2 days won't be any shorter.

At least my heart's in the right place.

And so, there you go.

007... and before I forget...

For the remainder of the year, I shall forgive everyone who had pissed me off for for any reason (real or imagined).

Starting in the New Year, though, the beatings will resume.