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.

I would've told Greg Gutfeld to SMMFD,but I decided to do this instead...

There are many ways to say "F--- You" to someone.

This is one of them.

Hello Greg, Bill, et al...

First off: I used to watch your show, which was in my opinion very funny. Of course, I couldn't afford to stay up late or take an hour off my life watching a group of talking heads carrying on like a booze-soaked house-party. But I digress.

You may not realise this, but Canada has roughly 1/10th the population of the United States, hence the relatively small military that you see today.

Previous Liberal governments made it even smaller and at this time the current Conservative government is struggling to rebuild it.

You probably didn't know that at one time, Canada had the 3rd largest navy during WW2. (ref: http://www.civilization.ca/cwm/explore/military-history-research-centre/democracy-at-war/canadawar/democracy-at-war-royal-canadian-navy-rcn-canada-and-the-war)

You probably didn't even know that Canadians had made sacrifices liberating Holland and holding back enemies during the Korean War. (ref: http://archives.cbc.ca/war_conflict/korean_war/topics/112)

Right about now, 116 of my brothers and sisters have given their lives in the name of freedom and social justice in Afghanistan. (ref: http://cnews.canoe.ca/CNEWS/Canada/2009/03/20/8829441-cp.html) At the same time, resources have been stretched due to low manpower, the cost of fuel and equipment - the same problems that plague any operational military force. Yet when the Federal government had asked all the other members of the coalition operating there to help out, they received little support. Thus you have our head of the Army, Gen. Leslie, telling one of your Senate subcommittees that our soldiers needed at least a little break from the war.

And let's not get started on the local rulers: each one has an agenda that more likely doesn't include liberal democracy.

I know that you were trying to make light of a situation by implying that the meanest sons-of-bitches were softies at heart. But you did it wrong, and the timing couldn't have been any worse.

(I doubt that you actually air this show live at 3 a.m. - if you had recorded it in the daytime before the 4 soldiers got killed, I forgive you. Once. Never again.)

I hope you appreciate the sacrifices we Canadians made for YOUR freedom.

Yes, our previous government policies and the demeanor of some of our more liberal citizens may make the French seem butch in comparison, but as someone who has served in the military, a sacrifice is never taken lightly. And as much as we love to joke with each other about our shortcomings and psychoses, there are time at which we have to step back, take a deep breath and stand down.

You may have realised that you have created a storm among those Canadians who stand by their troops and the cause. If you still have problems understanding this, why not spend a week with our brothers and sisters in Kandahar, working through diesel fumes and dust, going out on patrols not knowing if IEDs may be lurking in any given stretch of road and know what trouble we have to face in order to complete a mission.

And if you ask politely, we might get together and sing "Kumbaya" before retiring for the night.

Don't ever let it happen again.

Respect.

Jacques Dray
Dartmouth, NS, Canada

And you wonder why some conservatives hate Fox News?

Meh. NEXT...

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.

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.

The Unknown Good Stuff In '06 and '07:How I Lived to be 44 So Far

In spite of what I had to go through these years, I feel a little more empowered and free.

No more would I need an excuse to get hammered on my spare time, nor find myself broke for any other reason than having to pay rent, groceries and utilities.

(Okay... I did have to get games for the Playstation, but that's another story.)

I could finally fit into my jeans. After spending so much time struggling to fit 38 inches into a 32-inch pair of dungarees, I had to tighten my belt quite a bit.

Poverty and starvation can do that. Trust me.

All kidding aside, I am in process of releasing all these years of anger and self-loathing that ironically have driven my previous endeavours, both legit and illicit.

The funny thing about creativity and maintaining muses is that there has to be something that nourishes the process and perpetuates the momentum. Sometimes, the spark would come from a single, repetitive act, an occurring ritual that would define a person's head space. Sometimes, there would be a chemically induced revelation, an alcoholic epiphany, a hallucinogenic awakening that would give birth to a song, a drawing, a rant on a blog.

As you can see, all my writings were done under some kind of influence. And sometimes, like DUI, there would be a little collateral damage.

Have my Muses abandoned me? Has the Fire been squelched? HELL NO!

I believe that through adversity and bullshit, I've become, if not stronger, at least more at peace, more considerate, maybe even more aware of what's around me.

Yes... there will be haters everywhere who will think that once you've got the Disease, you're lost forever. I don't subscribe to the Darwinist fascism of immediate disposability (except for some extreme circumstances). The Disease always has a source, and within that source lies the cure.

Yes, I was, I am, and I will always be an addict. Once you get a taste, the taste will linger as long as you're above ground. For every rush, there will always be the crash, and most true addicts would dwell on the former than contemplate the latter. With sobriety, though, there's no difference between the two - both have equal weight and are necessary to maintain balance and order.

I'll still love and hate as usual, except that my targets will be attainable. I realise that I can't change the world as much as I like - I have enough problem changing myself as it is right now. As for the bridges that I have burned behind me in my years as an addict, leave them be - God will sort out the rest.

In other words, I am still Jacques. Nothing more. Nothing less. And there's still work to be done.

The Occasional Rant: Swedes Pwned; Brit in Shit; The Perfect US President; Rah, Rah, Vlad Putin

This is only a test.

The following items will get the Jacques treatment...

1. Canucks dine on Swedish Meatballs in Prague. While browsing/wandering aimlessly in Mic-Mac Mall looking for something - anything - for my crib, I saw my fellow countrymen teach some Nordic youngsters on how we practice our religion. This may look like any other game played at an arena, on a frozen pond or a closed of section of roadway, but in Canada, the future of hockey always lie in our youngest players, and like they did for the past 3 years, the players delivered in OT, just as I stumbled into the Source store by Zellers - next door to the Payless shoe store. It was, without a doubt, the best 45 seconds of my life. Then I went to Winners to look at some coats.
   
   
2. Call her Brittle. Oh, what the hell... the last time I commented on Britney Spears, she was justifying her love on Justin Timberlake (always that Bastard Fuck, style mastery and apparent talent notwithstanding). Call me pervish, but I've always had a - er - soft spot for her Britness, the way she transcended her Whorish Virgin image to wade into the unforgiving, mutilating waters of adulthood. Fast forward to now, the PR halls of mirrors shattered into a million shards as confused babies get repossesed because the former Mrs. Federline lost it.
   The lazy wags, the sofa-king disingenious dishers of celebrity pornography are dining on the scraps, the feast piled even higher with the revelation that her sister Jamie Lynn had found herself in the family way. And right now, I find myself saying, "These girls are cursed."
   Somewhere in Cyberspace, there is a dead pool on the go...
   
   
3. President Who? Somewhere in the Blogosphere, the Partisan Hater Players are revving up their engines, pounding their chests and testing the Kool-Aid as the candidates in the upcoming US presidential primaries rework their speeches, work the crowds then rework their speeches a few more times before reworking the crowds a few more times for good measure.
   Don't get me wrong - I have no love for the Demonic Rats who seem to be stuck in their desire to either bring back, reinvent or even rename the Clinton Camelot (which wasn't too bad as long as you didn't get nauseous from the endless feel-good spinning), but for a potential Donkey Prez, I'd have to go for Hilary, mainly because she is the Devil I know. Whitewater? So what - it's mostly TP rather than OP. Lewinsky? Bad waste of a Cuban cigar and one hell of a dry-cleaning bill. But she did her work alongside Bill, and she does seem to know Canada well enough. Barack Obama, OTOH, does have youth, ideals and looks good enough for an appearance or two on Soul Train, but being well learn-ed via extensive homework without the gruntwork does not a good prez hopeful make. As the saying goes, old age and treachery will triumph over youth and beauty. 4 more years and maybe Barack will become a worthy opponent.
   The Republicans have Mike Huckabee, who unlike NY-based Hillary has some serious AK credentials. Aside from that fact, I have no other idea about where he stands. I prefer the once and future Mayor of NY Rudy Giuliani who had rallied together NY-ers and humans everywhere in the wake of 9/11. I'll forgive the Pachydermal prez hopefuls for their critique of our übersacrosanct Health Care - at least it keeps up from dying, eh? But how can anyone in the Red Party convince Amurricans who are growing steadily tired of the endless Iraqi tape -loop that it can lead the country into the deeper, darker heart of the 3^rd millenium? Rudy oughta do that - he should steal a few pages from Barack's song book. But, given my ignorance of the current US dog-and-pony show, I think that the best choice for prez is this man...
   He has the folksiness of a Fred Thompson, the quiet charisma of a Rudy Giuliani, the religious stability of a Mitt Romney, the youthful potential of a Barack Obama and the woman's touch of a Hillary Clinton.
   Sadly, he's already been taken. Good luck, neighbours.
   
   
4. Hot, steamy Putin. I just bought Time's Man of the Year edition.
   The one with the face of a Kremlin zombie.
   Vlad Putin. Man of the Year.
   Like... fuck off.
   He may have changed the face of Russia. The problem is that Russia should never be confused with a pluralistic, democratic nation.
   There is actually a name for a man who used to be a KGB agent back in the days of the Sovietsky Soyuz.
   It's called Communist. Look it up.

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.